Melissa drove through town and over the Rose Bridge heading home to her son and mother. That was the normal now, and she would continue to make the very best of it.
As she turned down the street, her house came into view, but something was not right. There was a black pickup truck parked across the street. She’d never seen the truck before, and in a small town, little things like trucks parked on streets stood out. As she pulled into the driveway, she noticed a man was sitting in the truck, and he was looking her way. He rolled down the window as she climbed out of the car.
The ache in her chest became a flurry of panic. Her mother and son—what if something happened to them? Why was this man parked outside her house?
She knew it wasn’t the best idea to even leave the security of her car, but motherly instincts took over.
Melissa hurried from the car and straight through the front door of the house. As she stepped over the threshold, her grip on the door handle slipped. The door slammed into the wall, and she fell to her knees.
“Melissa!” she heard her mother’s voice ring through the house.
When she looked up she saw her mother and Jonah standing above her. They were fine.
But there was someone else standing above her looking down at her on her knees, which now ached against the tile floor.
Jesse Charles?
Jesse reached a hand toward her to help her up. She took his hand and stood.
“Are you okay?” His voice was soft.
“Yeah.”
Melissa gave a glance to her mother and son, who stood there smiling.
Her mother moved closer to her. “Why were you busting through the door? My goodness, girl, what were you thinking?”
“There’s a truck…outside.” She caught her breath and turned back to Jesse. “Why are you here?”
“Melissa!” her mother scolded. “Is this how you greet your guest?”
“Guest?”
He was flashing that brilliant smile again. “I had a few days off from my tour, and I thought I’d drop by for a visit.”
“How did you find me?”
“I texted myself the picture the other night so I had your phone number.” He looked at her son and then back to her. “I’m sorry to have just dropped by.” His smile had gone. “I should have called.”
Jonah moved in between them. “Mom, he came to take you to dinner.”
“Dinner? I can’t go to dinner. I have tests to grade.”
“Oh.” Jesse tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “I really should have called.”
“Nonsense,” her mother injected. “Melissa, a nice man stopped by to take you to dinner. You go. Those tests will wait.”
She was very sure she had crossed over into some parallel universe. What was Jesse Charles doing in her house?
“The man…outside.”
“Bodyguard.” He grinned, but there was a flush to his cheeks. Did that embarrass him?
“You brought your bodyguard with you?”
“What if you really didn’t want to see me and met me at the door with a shotgun?”
“Maybe you’d deserve it.”
“Melissa!” Her mother’s voice again rose in pitch and volume.
She felt the heat creep into her cheeks now. Here she was, thirty-five years old, and her mother was scolding her.
“I’m sorry. This is just about the oddest thing that has ever happened to me.” She took a deep breath. “You came to take us to dinner?”
Jonah reached for her hand. “Mom, he came to take you to dinner.”
She looked down at him, and he was smiling again. What was it about this man that could make her son smile so much?
“Grandma and I will be fine,” he assured her. “We have lots to eat. You go with Jesse.”
Jesse stepped in closer to her. “I won’t keep you long, I promise. I know you have a lot of work to do.”
Melissa’s emotions were conflicted. She had a duty as a teacher to finish those tests and to get to bed on time. She had obligations as a mother to keep silly delusions out of her son’s head—such as his mother going on a date with some younger man, who just happened to be one of the most famous men in America. But on the other hand, here was a man, standing in her living room, gazing at her with the most hypnotic grey eyes. She wanted to spend some time with him. After all, she already knew how he kissed.
She took a deep breath and placed her hands on her jumpy stomach. She looked down at her outfit. How was it that Jesse Charles stood there looking at her with dreamy eyes as though he hadn’t even noticed the vest she wore had adorned frogs?
“Let me get changed.”
Melissa quickly changed into a nice pair of jeans and a pair of shoes she wouldn’t normally wear in November, but this certainly wasn’t her normal weeknight. She fussed with her hair for only a moment—there just wasn’t much more she could do with it. She added some lipstick and decided that if he’d seen her fresh off work, falling through the front door, and he’d still smiled as though he wanted to continue an evening with her, then it was good enough.
Jesse was on the couch helping Jonah with his math homework when she walked out of her room. The moment he saw her he stood. Somewhere the young man had been taught manners. That was a plus.
He walked toward her. “You look wonderful.”
She wasn’t sure how he’d noticed. He’d never looked at her body, only her eyes.
“Thank you.” Her voice waivered. That wasn’t a good sign.
Her mother opened the front door. “I called Mama’s and talked to Ramone. He has a table for you already.”
One thing about Patsy Bartlett, she was always thinking one step ahead.
Though the residents of Aspen Creek were used to the occasional “famous person” coming over from Aspen Hills for the quiet serenity of their small town, someone as popular as Jesse Charles, was going to cause a stir.
“Thank you.”
She pulled her jacket off of the rack by the door, and Jesse moved in to help her. “I hope you don’t mind, but would you drive? If we take my truck, he’ll have to go with us.” He nodded toward the man sitting in the truck out front of the house.
“Sure.” Again her voice rattled in her throat.
She’d never minded her small car until that very moment. The once very pretty, black Toyota Camry looked dull and old. She’d never needed anything more, even if the winters were tough. But it was paid for.
Jesse opened her door and waited for her to slip in behind the wheel before he shut it and walked around to the other side to get in.
“So Mama’s? Is that Italian?”
She chuckled. “If you could call it that. Premade noodles and sauce, but Mama Lombardi says it’s homemade.”
“I see.” He buckled his seat belt. “But your mom must like it?”
“They have a good pizza.” She turned the key to start the engine. and it hiccupped. She tried again, and this time it started.
Melissa backed out of the driveway and headed down the street toward the bridge. She noticed in the mirror that the truck, which had been parked out front of her house, was following them.
“Is he going to follow us to the restaurant?”
Jesse turned back and looked. “Yep. That’s how it works.”
“So you’re never alone?”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “No.”
That was as pathetic as it came in her book. Sure, she always had Jonah and her mother nearby, but on Sunday morning even she’d head down to Molly’s for a cup of coffee after church for a moment to herself. What would it be like if someone had to follow your every move?
Jesse pulled a CD from the holder attached to her visor. “Tim McGraw?”
“What?” She glanced toward him and then back to the road. “Oh, yeah.”
“Country girl?”
“That’s my preference.” An uncomfortable tightness grew in her chest.
“I saw them in Vegas, he and his wife
. Nice people.”
The thought caught her as funny. “I’ll bet you’ve met a lot of people.”
“Sure. Most of them are shallow and all about themselves. I like things more laid back.”
“Well, you’re in the right place for that. Aspen Creek is almost too laid back.”
“Do you really think so?” He adjusted in his seat. “On my way into town, I saw a tanning salon, an ice rink boasting of hockey tryouts on a sign, a yoga studio, and a gourmet coffee place. This isn’t what I’d have in mind for small town. Oh, and that sign as you drive in,” he paused and looked at her for acknowledgement, and she nodded. “Cade Carter is from here?”
“He coaches the football team.”
“Isn’t that something? I remember that game when he got hit. Ended his career.”
She turned down Main Street. “I suppose that depends on how you look at it. Without that injury, he wouldn’t have come home to fall in love with the girl he grew up next door to, and they have a beautiful son and one on the way.”
“Hmmm.” Jesse looked out the window and then back at her. “And Lillian Rose? She’s an actress from early Hollywood, right?”
Melissa couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. The bridge we crossed to come into town is named after her family.” She stopped at the stop sign and pointed out the window. “And, do you see that house up on the mountain?”
“Yeah, I see it.”
“That’s where she was born in a blizzard. Her father died in the blizzard, and her mother eventually married her uncle. Huge love story there. But right below it, oh midway down the mountain, do you see that big, red barn?”
Jesse moved his head around to get the best view. “Okay, I see it.”
“That’s my grandfather’s land. My mother grew up there, and I lived there for years myself.”
“That’s cool.”
Melissa pulled into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant, and the black truck pulled in right beside her.
Jesse took a deep breath and let his shoulders drop. “I like it here. L.A. is just fully of people trying to impress other people.”
“I think you’ll find that wherever you go.”
“So far, this is more my pace.” He smiled and climbed out of the car.
Before she could unbuckle her seat belt, he was at her door opening it for her.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Ramone Lombardi walked out of the door on the side of the restaurant and waved. “Ah, your mother said you’d be coming, and you had a very special guest.”
“Ramone, this is Jesse.”
Jesse held his hand out to shake Ramone’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“Oh, what a gentleman. Come, I have a table set up for you.”
He led them through the side door and through the kitchen. Ramone hadn’t said anything to Jesse about knowing who he was, but he had kept his composure and guided them to a table just off the kitchen where they wouldn’t be bothered by the other diners.
The booths had high backs, and unless someone came right to the table, no one would even know they were there. She owed her mother for that. Melissa knew what the scene would be otherwise. There would be mass hysteria in the small town. In fact, as soon as the word got out that he was in their small town, she assumed there would still be some pandemonium.
As she sat down in the booth, she looked at the man next to her. There still was no reasoning behind why she was sitting in a restaurant with him. The flash of a smile which had crossed her son’s face was the only reason she was out with the stranger who had stalked her from a text message.
The thought was funny to her, and Jesse must have noticed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Did I laugh out loud?”
“With your eyes,” he said as he settled into the booth.
She sighed and settled into the booth, pulling her jacket from her arms and wiggling out of it. “Sorry. I’m still not sure why you’re here, and why I’m sitting in some booth with you. Do you take out all the women you sing to?”
His lips pursed as he pulled his jacket off. “I’ve never pulled anyone up on stage before.”
“I find that hard to believe,” she said defensively, though she didn’t mean to be so snide.
Jesse folded his jacket and set it on the seat next to him. He then rested his arms on the table and leaned in. “Why is it so hard to accept that a man wanted to have dinner with you?”
“Because the man is you, and the woman is me.”
“So.”
“So?” She looked around and noticed that a few of the wait staff had noticed who she was with, and Ramone shooed them away. “So, I’m probably fifteen years older than you, for one.”
“I’m twenty-six.”
She did the math. “Okay, seven, but…”
“But what? I think you’re wonderful.”
“You just met me.”
“And at one time in your life hadn’t you just met your husband?”
The wind was taken out of her sails with that. “Yes.”
“A stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet.”
Suddenly she felt as though her teacher credentials meant nothing, and this “kid” knew more than she did. “Why me?”
Jesse sat back against the booth. “Why did I pull you on stage?”
“Yes.”
“Because you didn’t fit in the audience.”
Melissa pushed her shoulders back. “What does that mean?”
Jesse smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I mean, you’re not a fan of my music.”
“And you’re here to try and make me a fan?”
He leaned in again. “Not of my music.”
Ramone approached the table. “How about a beer?”
Jesse looked at her for her decision, and she felt panic rise in her chest. “How about a Coke.”
“I’ll have the same,” Jesse said.
Ramone gave a nod and walked away.
Jesse eased back against the back of the booth. “You don’t drink?”
“Not with men I don’t know.”
Jesse gave a slow nod. “Are you going to give this a chance?”
“Dinner?”
“Any of it.” Jesse reached across the table and took hold of her hands. “Listen, I don’t want you to think any more about this than us getting to know each other. I saw you. I like you. I want to get to know you.”
“Jesse, I haven’t dated anyone since my husband died.”
He sat back again. “Maybe would could be friends.”
She was being foolish. Perhaps she did deserve to be scolded by her mother.
Ramone returned with their drinks, and they agreed on a pizza for dinner.
“So,” Jesse began and then took a sip of his Coke. “You’re a country fan?”
She smiled. “My father and my husband were big Johnny Cash fans.”
“Man in Black. You can’t go wrong with Cash.”
Melissa considered him for a moment. “You like Johnny Cash?”
“He’s classic. He’s one of the foundations of modern music.” He leaned on the table again. “Imagine if the world hadn’t had Johnny Cash, or Elvis Presley, or even Glenn Miller. If the classic tones of Beethoven and Mozart hadn’t led to something new…” He sat back in his seat and let out a breath. “It’s all combined. Without one, you don’t have the other. To not appreciate one…well, that’s just sad.”
She hadn’t expected such passion from him. “And Justin Beiber?”
“That is one talented S.O.B.”
She laughed at that. Talk about a controversy when you got two thirteen year olds going at it in the hall.
“What made you want to sing?”
He sipped his Coke, and his lips pursed. “My mother. She married a musician, and then had a kid with a musician. She saw easy street if she made her kid one, too.”
“You didn’t choose this?”
He shrugged h
is shoulders. “It’s all I’ve ever known. I was auditioning for things by the time I was eight. I auditioned for The Guys when I was ten. They hired me when I was twelve. I sang with them until I was eighteen, and then I went solo. The rest is history.”
“I forgot you sang in a boy band.”
He winced as if the title hurt. “Yep. Seems like a long time ago.”
“What would you rather have done?”
This time he smiled, and she knew that was half his charm. She was fairly sure he knew it too. “I would have like to have played baseball.”
“Professionally?”
The smile began to diminish. “No. Just little league. You know, with kids from school. Dirt lots, faded baseball caps, ratty glove.” His eyes glazed over when he spoke of it.
“You never got to do that?”
He picked up his drink again. “No. Mom was looking for a record contract and where she went, I went.”
Melissa’s heart ached for him. Sure, Martin wasn’t around to do those things with Jonah, but he played basketball. One spring he’d played T-ball, and he’d already asked if he could try hockey when the season started the following year.
“Are you happy?”
“Sure.” He said the words, but Melissa didn’t buy it.
Ramone set their pizza down on the table and hurried away, again shooing his young wait staff.
Jesse served her a piece and then himself. “This looks great.”
“Best in the county.”
He took his first bite. “Yep, that’s good.”
“So how did you know I wasn’t at the concert to listen to you?”
“Because your eyes were on the crowd. You didn’t always sing along, but you smiled. So it wasn’t as if you’d been completely forced there.”
“You can really see people like that?”
He swallowed his bite and wiped the cheese from his chin. “There are the hard core fans, the ones who feel as though they personally know you. There are the ones who come scantily dressed, hoping you’ll take them backstage, and then usually get drunk and go home with someone they don’t know. There are the kids, like Jonah, who just enjoy the music. I like them the best.” He smiled. “But then there are those who are there only because someone dragged them along. They are miserable, and they do make eye contact with you. Only it’s a demented look as though you’ve wrecked their life.”
Unexpected Admirer Page 4
