Chapter Seventeen
Brooklyn
“What was that for?” Brooklyn asked quietly, barely able to breathe. If he kissed her again, her knees would buckle, and she’d slither down the steps like warm caramel.
“I—I couldn’t help myself.” His gaze deepened. He traced the outline of her lips with his finger, making them tickle and tingle. His arm around her back held her close, protected, safe. She could get really comfortable in this space—with him. “I’m beginning to understand the magic of this town.”
The reminder of why she was here, to show Asher how special Eureka Springs was and how it shouldn’t change one bit, fell on her like a wet washcloth.
His eyes dipped to her mouth, and she quickly stepped back before he could tempt her into losing her mind and her good sense over him.
Asher’s hand slipped across her body as she pulled away, sending fireworks exploding over her skin. She couldn’t do this right now. She couldn’t fall for a handsome man who was going to leave one day. “So, the, uh, point of this stop was to explain that we live with our past here. It’s a part of each of us.”
“I’ll bet Halloween is fun.”
She smiled over her shoulder. “We have a zombie fest. You’re going to love it.”
“I’ll have to fly out.”
She stopped moving, feeling like a music box that had run out of spring.
“What?” he asked, concerned.
“For a minute, I forgot you were leaving.” She frowned. “We should move on.”
“Lead the way.” He stepped aside, allowing her to go down the steps first. They stepped out from behind a tree, and the sun blinded them both for a moment. Its warmth didn’t compare to how her lips had felt when he’d kissed her.
She needed some space, a chance to set her thoughts straights. Because right now, all they were doing was circling around Asher. Being in his arms had felt like coming home, which was ridiculous, because the whole point of this tour was to show him what a home was really like.
They got to the bottom, and she made up her mind. “So that’s it.” She grabbed for the smile she used when a customer was out of sorts. Saying goodbye to him right now was the safest thing to do. And Brooklyn was nothing if she wasn’t cautious and safe.
“That’s it?” He looked up the street.
“Well …” She folded her arms, felt silly, and then let them hang at her sides. “If you’d like to see the best version of yourself, have Agnes at Le Chapeau find you a hat. It’s transformative.”
“Really?” He narrowed his eyes.
“It’s not something I can explain. You have to experience it for yourself.”
“And you’ve done this?”
She nodded eagerly. “There’s a whole side of me you haven’t even begun to see, mister.”
He laughed, the sound like an elixir for her troubled mind.
A smile tugged at her lips. A real one. There were a lot more shops—a lot more stories to share. She longed to walk through each one with him. To see what he thought of Art’s paintings. To share a cream puff and then taste it on his lips after.
She shook herself. What she really needed was a dose of reality. They both did. “There’s more. But you’re not here forever, so you get the condensed version.”
Her reminder that they were on opposite sides of a fence did the trick, and he frowned. He was firmly planted on the change side and she was entrenched on the no-change side, and they weren’t supposed to meet. The fence was supposed to keep them apart. But the more time they spent together, the shorter the fence became.
Asher tucked his hands in his pockets. “Well, thanks for the tour. It was enlightening.”
“What was your favorite part?”
His eyes took on a bit of mischief, and she instantly regretted asking. “Never mind.”
She held up a palm even as her cheeks flushed.
His eyes gleamed. “I think I know what your favorite part was.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “But I’ll be a gentleman and not mention it.”
Her laugh was breathy. “Would a gentleman point out that he was being a gentleman?”
“Most certainly.”
She laughed and shoved him away, enjoying the feel of his solid body under her hands.
Her phone dinged. Shaking her head, she checked the screen. “Holy chocolate pop!” She stared at the AOL return address, not believing that after all this time, she finally had an answer from Thomas. This was big. So big it was colossal. “Um … I have to go.” She took two steps away.
“Is something wrong?” Asher touched her elbow, bringing her eyes up to meet his.
“I think … I think something is about to go right.” She grabbed his arm. “At least, I hope so.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
She looked down at where her hand held his arm. She hadn’t thought about touching him; it had just happened because she’d gotten too familiar with him. “No. Thanks for the offer. But I really have to go. Can you find your way back?”
He tipped his head back and laughed. “It’s one road. I think I can find my car.”
She grinned, the sound of his laughter wrapping her up like a warm hug.
He’s leaving, she reminded herself.
“Okay, then. I’ll see you later?” She wanted to—even if it was just a few minutes here and there. Another day like today and she’d fall for him. Heck, she might have already. She waved and dashed down the street to the Sweet Shoppe.
“I owe you a funnel cake!” he called after her.
“This tour’s on the house!” she yelled over her shoulder. Her chest was warm, but it was all from Asher and not from running up the hill. The closer she got to the store, the more excited she was to share the news with Grandma and Crystal.
“Look what the wind blew through our door.” Crystal put her hands on her hips. “Date over already?”
Brooklyn ignored Crystal’s hint for information and searched for Grandma. Whatever she could tell them about her time with Asher wouldn’t compare to having a long-lost love show up on their doorstep.
Well, the kiss might overshadow that. It was pretty epic.
She found Grandma in the corner, stacking jars of homemade fudge sauce. “Grandma!” She sprinted over and took both Grandma Julie’s hands in hers.
Grandma’s eyes grew wide. “What on earth? You’re flushed.” She put her hand to Brooklyn’s forehead, checking her temperature.
“She doesn’t have a fever, Grams. She’s been cozying up with that developer,” Crystal called.
Thank the heavens the shop was empty. “Who told you?” There was no sense denying it had happened.
“Robert Merrick.”
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. Robert was the trolley driver who passed the soldier’s steps fifty times a day. He had eyes like an eagle and didn’t mind pointing out things of interest to those on his trolley—even if the interesting moment was Brooklyn snuggled up to a certain hottie.
Brooklyn berated herself for falling under Asher’s spell. She’d gone into a trancelike state up there on the landing. Other people in town had talked about things like that happening, but she hadn’t experienced it herself until now.
She wondered if it had more to do with the soldier or if it was because of Asher.
“Did he kiss you?” Grandma grabbed on to both her arms. The woman lived for a good romance story.
Brooklyn groaned. Of course she would zero in on the one thing Brooklyn wasn’t ready to talk about. Maybe would never be ready. Her lips were still tingling from the contact, and the butterflies in her stomach were overreacting.
“I have something I need to talk to you about.” She ran her sweaty hands down her jeans. Now that the moment had come, there was so much to confess to that it tied her tongue and her thoughts in knots.
“Don’t stand there hemming and hawing—spit it out.” Grams gave her a little shake.
Brooklyn blurted the most important information out fi
rst. “Thomas is coming.”
Crystal slapped her hand on the counter. “Shut the front door!”
“I swear. I just got his email. I ran all the way here.” Sure, that was why her cheeks were in high color—not because she’d spent time with a single, attractive, successful male who happened to hold her close in the most delicious way.
Grandma sagged. “Thomas? My Thomas?”
Brooklyn made eye contact with Crystal and they exchanged an excited glance. My Thomas indeed. Grams carried a torch for this guy even if she wasn’t going to admit it.
“Yes.” Brooklyn took Grandma by the arms and helped her to the table in the window. Crystal came to stand behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder while Brooklyn took the chair across. She tapped her phone and slid it over to them. “I wanted to know if he’d lived through the war. I was curious, I guess.”
Grams smiled up at her. “You get that from me.”
Brooklyn patted Grandma’s rose-soft hand in agreement. “I found him on a list of survivors—they have a site for reunions and such. Anyway, I sent out a couple emails, trying to get hold of him, and he wrote back.”
They bent over her phone, scanning the short message. Grandma’s hand covered her mouth.
“You’re not upset, are you?” Brooklyn asked, leaning over the table. Now that she was sitting here and worry lines framed Grandma’s eyes, she wondered if she’d done the right thing.
Grandma closed her eyes, thinking for a moment. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“Like what?” asked Crystal.
“Old.” Grandma laughed at herself. She swiped at a tear. “When I think of him, he’s young and strong. What will he see when he comes but an old lady?”
“Grams, no!” Brooklyn picked up her hand. “You’re beautiful.”
“Besides, he could be bald.” Crystal stood tall. “And have a pot belly and dentures. You’re way hotter than that.”
Brooklyn and Grandma laughed, though Grandma’s laughter died off quickly.
“It’s true, though—you have all your teeth,” Brooklyn teased.
“Oh—you two!” She pushed off the table, her jaw set. “There’s nothing I can do about the extra thirty pounds or the worry lines y’all etched into my face. And since he didn’t tell me when he’s coming, I can’t put on my good blouse.” She charged toward the kitchen. “Don’t you dare tell a soul about any of this. There are still people in this town that remember when he was here, and I’ll not have them sticking their noses in my personal affairs.”
“Okay,” the girls squeaked in unison.
“If you need me, I’ll be making marshmallows.”
The door swung shut behind her, leaving Brooklyn and Crystal staring at it.
“She’s freaking out,” said Crystal. She made her way behind the counter and rinsed out a rag to wipe things down.
“Well, yeah! She’s making marshmallows—for the love. If I’d known it was going to drive her into desperate acts, I would have …” Brooklyn stopped.
Crystal cocked her head. “Would you have not contacted him?”
Brooklyn groaned. “I probably still would have done it. Darn it all. I get my hopeless romantic streak from her, too.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Do you think she’s mad at me?”
“Nope. I think she’s scared spitless to see this guy.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Brooklyn folded her arms and laid her head down, blocking out the world.
The door chimed, but Brooklyn kept her head down. A lot had happened this afternoon.
“Uh, Brooklyn?” asked Franz from the funnel cake stand.
She popped up and smoothed down her hair. Thanks to Robert Merrick, the trolley driver, there were enough rumors floating around about her already. She didn’t need to act depressed in front of anyone. “Hey.”
Franz held a giant plate, and the smell of fried food breezed through the door with him. He grinned. “Hey.”
“Hi there, Franz. How’s things going?” called Crystal.
His attention shifted to Crystal in that way that guys had when they were interested in a woman. Like a fox eyeing up a sweet little mouse.
Brooklyn twisted in her seat to find Crystal giving Franz the same hungry look. Well, well, well.
His face went blank, like he couldn’t come up with anything to say. Brooklyn eyed the giant funnel cake, worried he’d drop it and run. He tried to fold his arms, then remembered he held something in his hand and shifted his feet. “Business is good. How about this place?”
“We’re getting along. The UFO convention this weekend should be good.” They prepared several alien-themed treats that sold out fast.
He bobbed his head. Then, as if he remembered he should use his words, he added, “Yeah, us too.”
The amount of awkwardness in the air was enough to choke a person. “What brings you by?” Brooklyn prompted.
He wrinkled his brow and looked at her like she’d asked a dumb question.
She stared pointedly at the plate he carried, and he came to himself. “This is for you.” He set a giant funnel cake on the table. It was their deluxe cake with whipped cream, chocolate and caramel sauce, powdered sugar, and strawberries.
Her stomach rumbled. It looked so good. “I didn’t order this.” Funnel cakes were for special days, like birthdays and bets. Like the one she’d made with Asher … Oh! Tiny beads of happiness spilled through her from her head to her toes.
A loud bang came from the kitchen, like Grandma had slammed a pot down on the stove. She and Crystal ducked but didn’t say anything.
Franz glanced at the door and then turned back to Brooklyn. “There’s a note.” Franz pointed at the napkin hanging off the side. “I gotta go. I closed the shack to deliver this.”
Brooklyn shook her head. “I’m sorry. I hope this didn’t mess up your day.”
“Are you kidding? Best tip I ever got.” He patted his shirt pocket that bulged with bills.
Brooklyn’s eyes bugged out. “He paid you that much to deliver this?”
He nodded. “Yep. Said it was worth every penny, too.” He smiled. “I think someone’s got a crush on a fudge girl.” He waved to Crystal. “I’ll see you at Tappers?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
He waved and sauntered out.
While part of Brooklyn wanted to dive into the whole Franz romance thing, the bigger portion of her was curious about the note from Asher.
It had to be from Asher.
She prayed it was from Asher.
If this was some kind of a prank from someone, she was going to be really upset.
Crystal ran over, flapping her hands like a fangirl. “Read it. Read it. Read it.”
Brooklyn couldn’t help laughing. Her head floated way above the clouds. She pulled the napkin out from under the cake. The wax paper had protected it for the most part, but the corner had a grease spot.
The tour was worth a hundred funnel cakes, but I could only get this guy to deliver one.
You’ve shown me your town; how about seeing my vision?
Dinner tomorrow night? My place. 6:00 p.m.
His number was at the bottom.
She fanned her face with her free hand.
Crystal slapped her shoulder. “You’re going!”
Brooklyn let the napkin rest in her lap. She leaned her head on her hand and sighed. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Give me one good reason.”
“He’s a short-term implant.”
“Okay, that’s a pretty good reason.” Crystal pulled out the other chair and sat down. “But it’s also in the pro column, if you ask me.”
“Tell me, oh wise one, how falling for a man who won’t be here for the zombie crawl is a good idea.”
“Well, because life is short. And because you don’t know what his plans are long-term.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “People change their minds all the time. And because you don’t want to end up like Grandma,
wondering about him forty years later.”
“Okay, that one rang true.” She picked off a piece of the funnel cake, dipped it in the whipped cream on the top, and popped it in her mouth. “I’m going. But only so I can lay this whole crush to rest.”
Crystal grinned. “You’re crushing pretty hard, huh?” She snagged a section of funnel cake and made a mess of herself trying to eat it.
“He listens. And … he makes me laugh. There’s just something about laughing with him that’s different.”
Crystal grinned. Chocolate sauce dripped down her chin, and she had whipped cream on her nose.
Brooklyn rolled her eyes.
A wooden spoon smacked the side of a pan in the kitchen, making them both jump. They knew better than to try to talk to Grandma when she was in a marshmallow mood. It was best to let her work through this for a while. She’d come out when she was ready to talk.
“You know what? I think I’m going to eat this upstairs.” Brooklyn grabbed the plate and dashed for the apartment. “Good luck with Grandma.”
Crystal shook her fists at her. “You owe me one.”
Brooklyn cackled until she shut the door. Instead of going to the kitchen to sit at the table, she went to her room and put the cake on her desk. For a moment, she stared at her phone. She needed to do this. Needed to face her fears of love and abandonment.
Why did it have to be so hard?
Why did it feel like such a risk?
Even adding his name to her contact list was a giant step forward for her. She didn’t put just anyone in there, and now he was a big enough part of her life that she had to keep track of his information.
Brooklyn: Thanks for the cake. It’s delish!
The three dots started going almost the second she hit send.
Asher: You earned it.
She replied with a smiley face.
Asher: Dinner?
She moaned as she typed: Love to.
Asher: Great. I’ll send a car to pick you up.
She blinked at the screen. Was that a thing? Not in her world, but whatever. If he wanted to send a driver, she wasn’t going to say no. She stared at her closet. Did a driver mean she had to dress up? Shoot.
Her Billionaire Mistake (Billionaire Bachelor Mountain Cove Book 1) Page 11
