Brooklyn moved to the back counter to lay the fudge in a box. Crystal was there, sealing her order with a shop sticker.
“I love it when it’s busy.” Crystal winked. “We might make enough for that new mixer this year.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing.” Brooklyn grinned. She placed the fudge on the scale and removed a sliver to get the right weight.
The door dinged above the chatter. “Ooooh, there’s a nice-looking fella.” Crystal nodded to the door. She finished wrapping her order and headed for the register.
Brooklyn hardly had time to look up and glance at the man standing in the doorway. He was backlit by the sun, so she couldn’t make out his features. It didn’t matter, though; she could already see what Crystal was talking about. Nice broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His dress shirt fit just right to show off his muscles. She boxed the fudge and hurried to the register. “I’ll bet his clothes cost more than our mixer,” she said softly as she crossed paths with her cousin.
Crystal giggled. “I wouldn’t mind a closer look.”
Brooklyn fanned her face once and then focused on her job. Behind the handsome stranger, another group tried to get through the door, but there just wasn’t room in the shop. They formed a line out the door, content to wait.
Mark had taken up residence at the one and only table they had. It was small, a circle made out of wood and placed on a wire frame. There were two chairs. If business was slower, she would have sat down and chatted with him for a while. He was a loner type, but he’d seemed to warm up to Brooklyn a few months ago when he’d told her about his family. It was a sad story.
Over fifteen years ago, he was a truck driver, and when he was home on Sunday’s, they’d head out to a church his wife had found. He thought everything was fine until he went on a long haul one weekend and came back to find that his wife and daughters had moved out. They’d been chosen by the church leader to create a new nation, and he had not been picked. He always seemed kind of broken. Not because the preacher had double-crossed him, but because his wife had agreed to leave and taken his daughters away. For all he knew, they were still up there in the hills. His girls would be seventeen and twenty now. She wondered if he rode around the county on his bike like he did, hoping to bump into one of them. She gave Mark a smile that she hoped told him she cared before jumping back into work.
Brooklyn did her best to shorten the line while keeping an eye on the new guy. He certainly wasn’t from Eureka Springs. Unless he’d graduated high school years ahead of her and just came back. No. He wasn’t that old. Now that the light was better, she could see that he wasn’t much older than her. Blond hair, the color of fresh straw, shone under his ball hat.
Hmm, a mystery man.
Their eyes met briefly, and she quickly looked away. Butterflies flitted around her stomach. That wasn’t good. She wasn’t a tummy-flipping-over-a-guy kind of girl.
Chatter was happy, and sugar cravings abounded. As luck would have it, she ended up helping the handsome stranger. Crystal walked behind her and pinched her side out of jealousy. Brooklyn restrained herself from sticking out her tongue. It was all in good fun, but she had to act a little professional. “What can I get for you today?”
“I came for fudge. My secretary demands it.” His voice was deep and clear like Beaver Lake, and it rolled over her like a spring fog, sending goose bumps over her skin.
“It is the best in the world,” she quipped. Thankfully, she’d delivered that line so many times she didn’t have to think about it. The thing she was currently thinking about was the cleft in his chin. She’d probably seen two in her whole life as deep as his, and that little line was fascinating.
His jaw was strong and straight and could have been chipped right out of the side of the mountain like a piece of quartz. He had on a ball cap and sunglasses, which he left on in the store. Crystal wore sunglasses inside when she had her eyes dilated. Maybe he’d come down after an ophthalmology appointment.
Maybe she needed to stop thinking about his life and focus on his order.
“Yes, I saw the sign that claimed it was the best in the world.” He nodded to the window.
“It’s not just the sign. Everyone claims it’s the best,” she fired back with a wink. Several of the regulars called out their agreements. The line outside had been able to make it inside, so the place was once again packed shoulder to shoulder.
“You should try some.” Crystal put a square of red velvet fudge on a piece of wax paper and set it on the counter. “Samples are on the house.” She smiled and went back to cutting fudge for her customer.
Several more people in line asked for samples now that they knew they were free and available. Brooklyn pinched Crystal and gave her a look-what-you’ve-done glare. She handed out several tastes to people while the stranger made up his mind. Their noises of appreciation were enough to make her grin. She loved putting smiles on people’s faces and continually glanced out of the corner of her eye to see if the cutie was listening. He chewed his sample slowly, thoughtfully. But he didn’t smile, which made her pause. What kind of a person didn’t grin at free fudge?
Finally, she was able to get back to her handsome customer. Not that she was one for having a fling with a tourist. But if she was going to break that rule for any stranger, it would be a guy like him.
“This is good.” He said the words so blandly that he barely placated her claim to greatness. “Is it just the two of you who run the shop?” He turned quickly to the side and concentrated on the nameplates in the display case.
“Us and Grandma Julie.” There was no leaving Grandma out. Today was her day off, but she’d still gotten up and dusted the store before heading to the grocery. Being in the shop was like medicine: if she didn’t get her daily dose, she went through withdrawals. Maybe that was more like illegal drugs, but the idea was the same. She couldn’t be away from this place any more than she could stop the springs from flowing.
“What’s she like?” he asked, still not making eye contact.
Brooklyn blinked in surprise at his question. She’d kind of thought he was going to ask another question about her, flirt a little. That’s the way these little back-and-forths usually went. “Um—she’s pretty much amazing. Why?”
“I’m trying to get a feel for this place.” His eyes roamed over the wood paneling and then the rough-hewn floor. She got the feeling he didn’t approve. It wasn’t that he scoffed outright; it was more in the way his attention moved so quickly, like not one thing was worth spending much time on.
Crystal perked up. “Are you a reporter?” They often had travel journalists come through town. The write-ups were generally generous—there was something special about Eureka Springs—and they were good for business.
He shook his head. “I’m in land development.”
Brooklyn’s grip on the spatula handle tightened. They’d had these types come in before, sticking their noses into the place, wanting to know yearly revenue and overhead, pretending to be sweet and interested in the girls when they were really interested in snatching this place right out from under them.
What they really wanted was to take her legacy and turn it into a franchise.
So much for his good looks. He could keep his cleft chin and his scrumptious-looking lips to himself.
“Look, this shop isn’t for sale. It’s been in the family for four generations, and it’ll be here for five if I have anything to say about it.”
His eyes dropped to her left hand. Her bare left hand—no wedding ring.
“I didn’t say I was passing it on tomorrow,” she clarified.
His cheeks flushed at having been caught looking. He jutted out his finely shaped chin, drawing her eyes to that cleft again. Why was it so darn interesting to look at? It wasn’t like it made him Mr. Universe or anything. It gave his face character. That was all.
“I wasn’t going to—” he started.
Mark was at the guy’s side, his eyes narrowed and his whiskers quaking
. “I believe the lady told you to buzz off.”
Brooklyn’s face heated. She’d said no such thing. Crystal’s hand went to her arm in a silent show of support.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” the man snapped at Mark. “And I certainly wasn’t going to make an offer on your store,” he said to her and Crystal.
He spoke with such derision that Brooklyn was offended—in a completely new direction. “What’s wrong with our store?”
“For starters, it’s out of date.”
Crystal huffed next to her. “It’s called vintage.”
“It’s called worn out.” He looked down and scuffed his highly polished shoe over the floor. He tucked his hands in his pockets. His tone was light, like they were having an everyday conversation and he hadn’t just insulted her favorite place in the whole world. “You need a complete makeover. I bet your kitchen could use one too.”
Murmurs started in the crowd.
“Our kitchen is stunning, thank you very much.” Brooklyn shucked off the plastic gloves and threw them in the garbage. Her palms were sweating and needed air.
His eyebrows rose above his glasses at her tone. Like he was surprised she was mad at him.
Mark stepped closer, growling as he did. “Stop picking on the fudge girls, man, or you and I are gonna take a walk outside.”
“I was being honest,” he said with an added cup of righteous indignation. Like his opinion should carry so much weight.
“You were being mean,” said the woman standing behind him in line.
Brooklyn glanced around to find the whole place watching their interaction. Thank goodness no one was filming it. The store didn’t need that kind of publicity. In fact, the store didn’t need this guy and his bad juju filling up the space. She folded her arms. “I don’t think we have any of the fudge you ordered today. We’re sold out.”
His forehead wrinkled, and it was kind of adorable and sexy all at once. Not that she thought he was any of those things. “I haven’t told you what flavors I want.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, daring him to name one flavor on the counter and see what would happen.
He drew his thick eyebrows down. “You’re refusing service?” He glanced at the people around them. “Can you do that in Arkansas?”
She had no idea. They had a sign up in the front window, small and indiscreet, that said they could refuse to serve anyone, but they’d never put it in practice.
“Watch her,” gruffed Mark.
The man eyed Mark up and down.
Brooklyn held her breath as the tension grew thick as cookie dough. This new guy would demolish Mark, and she really, really didn’t want Mark to get hurt on account of her stubborn streak.
She was on the verge of backing down and sending the man out the door with a free quarter pound, when he smirked—at her. “That’s okay. I’ve figured out what I came here for.” He swaggered out the door as if he owned the whole darn town.
She glared after him and let out the breath she’d been holding.
“It’s okay,” Crystal said. “He won’t be back.”
Brooklyn shook out her fingers. “I don’t know why he got to me so bad.” Usually, she could handle a developer or potential buyer checking in with a lot more grace. There was just something about this guy that irked her. She turned her attention to Mark. “Thank you so much. You’re the hero in all this.” She reached across the counter and patted his arm.
Several people nodded and smiled. One woman patted him on the back. His story would be told all over Eureka Springs by sundown.
“I’m giving you fudge.” She smiled. “Name your flavor.”
He grinned, large enough to reveal his gold tooth. “I didn’t do much, but I wouldn’t say no to that cherry cheesecake over there.”
Brooklyn chuckled, feeling the heat seep out of her cheeks and neck. “You bet.”
She cut a generous portion and put it in a box with a small plastic fork and knife. Mark took it with a thank-you and headed out the door.
She and Crystal picked up where they’d left off helping customers, but Brooklyn’s mind wouldn’t leave the stranger alone. She came up with a half dozen things she should have said and stewed in her own thoughts until she was thoroughly exhausted.
When there was a lull in customers, Crystal grabbed a bottle of glass cleaner and went to the other side of the counter. Brooklyn headed for the fridge, hoping a can of soda would perk up her mood. She could use a sugar rush to get her through the evening shift. “Want one?” she called over her shoulder.
“Sure.” Crystal spritzed and wiped while Brooklyn popped the tops of the cans.
“Can you believe that guy?” she asked as she set Crystal’s drink on the counter. “Walking in here like he had every right to buy our shop.”
Crystal blew a piece of hair off her face. “Yeah, I can. We had a store full of customers. Business looked real good today.”
Brooklyn leaned her hip against the back wall. “He should be here now.” The shelves were picked over and the beautiful displays of fudge were hacked into, some of the remnants no more than a quarter of an inch big. She took a long pull from her drink before setting it down and taking mental inventory of what she’d need to pull from the stock in the back.
“What I don’t get is why you’re still thinking about him.” Crystal moved to the next glass section. “Unless you thought he was something special.”
Brooklyn garbled a response. “Special? Not in the least.”
“He was hot, though.”
“Well, there’s no denying that. But hotness does not make a man.”
“No, but it can make him kissable.”
“Stop.” Brooklyn wadded up a piece of wax paper and threw it at her cousin.
“I saw you eyeing him up while he was in line.”
“Well, yeah. Along with every other woman in this place. Including you.”
Crystal shrugged. “I love me a good set of shoulders. Hmm-mm.”
That got a laugh out of Brooklyn.
“Have you checked your email today?” Crystal easily changed the subject.
“I haven’t.” Brooklyn grabbed her phone and tapped on the icon. “You’d think we’d have heard from this grandson already. It’s been a couple weeks.”
“Was that the only contact information? Maybe we should make a call or something?”
“No, it was just the email. But I’m going to run a search for his name in Seattle and see if anything comes up.” She snagged her soda and headed for the small table in the front. She’d take her break now, and Crystal could take hers in a bit. Neither of them kept an accounting of time off—they just did what needed to be done, including looking out for one another’s well-being. If Crystal was sick, there was no question that Brooklyn would work double shifts to cover for her, and vice versa.
She stared out the window for a moment, watching the black-and-chrome bikes headed up Main Street. There was a parade scheduled for 6 p.m., and the windows would rattle with the noise from their engines.
In her mind, she could see the developer strutting out the door, and she looked for him on the street. Maybe he was scoping out other businesses too. Maybe he’d be in town for a while. The thought left her feeling light-headed and hot all over.
She pushed thoughts of him away and focused on finding Thomas Ward. Besides the mention on the vets page, there wasn’t much. She glanced through the links, feeling desperate to find Thomas—though she couldn’t pinpoint why.
“There’s an AOL email address on a MySpace page for Thomas,” she called across the room. “I’m not even sure if it’s him, though; the picture is grainy.”
“It’s not like you’d know what he looked like.”
“True. I’m sending an email to this guy.” She took a moment to tap out the you don’t know me part and explain herself, then asked if he was the Thomas Ward who had proposed to Julie Drury over forty years ago.
“Will it even get through? Who has AOL email addresse
s anymore?” asked Crystal. “Or a MySpace page? Don’t they harvest those for fossil fuel?”
Brooklyn snorted at the joke. “I dunno. But it’s the only shot we have.”
Crystal sat down across from her. She fiddled with the cleaner bottle. “I’d like to see Grams with someone. She seems lonely here.”
“She has us.”
“We’re not her age. She needs to connect with people. Really, deeply, emotionally connect. I read an article the other day that said women need an emotional connection every day or their health deteriorates.”
Brooklyn lifted her eyebrows.
“It’s true.” Crystal leaned forward. “I have you and you have me, but Grams needs someone her own age. Someone she can complain about her hip to and they get it.”
“What about the group that she plays dominoes with at the Highbury Hotel?”
“It’s not the same thing.” Crystal sighed.
“I know.” Brooklyn closed her eyes and prayed the email would find Thomas, that they’d be able to make this work, and that somehow, love would come to Eureka Springs.
Chapter Four
Asher
Asher stormed the streets of Eureka Springs for a good hour while he waited for Mrs. Morgan to get back from the grocery store. Actually, he wandered the street. As far as he could tell, Main Street was the tourist area of town, with an eclectic collection of shop fronts, restaurants, and hotels all laid out side by side.
There were two hotels downtown, one advertising a séance that guaranteed he could meet up with his dearly departed. He decided to pass on that. The other hotel had pictures in the lobby of the famous people who had stayed there and a museum-like display of a gang of bank robbers foiled by local citizens. He shook his head at the pictures. If you’re going to rob a bank, don’t do it in a town where every man wears a sidearm.
He glanced around, unable to see any locals armed today.
There was also a ghost tour advertised on another building. That sounded interesting. He’d done one of those in Park City, Utah, and in Williamsburg, Virginia, and learned a lot about the histories of the towns. He may just have to come back for that one night.
Her Billionaire Mistake (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 1) Page 3
