Sweet Town Love

by Maggie Ryan

  When at last she joined him in the bedroom and knelt at the end of the bed, he sat with his arms folded, sulking. Looking back, he had acted like a total tool. Oh well, there was nothing he could do about that now.

  "What's up?"

  "Didn't you hear me call?"

  "No. I was drying my hair." She shook her freshly brushed pigtails to emphasize this.

  A bad humor was on him, and her cute little smile did little to change his mood. She knelt forward, supporting herself on her elbows, a wicked twinkle in her eyes. "Would Daddy like a cuddle?"

  But Chandler just brushed her away and raised his knee, blocking her. He had received another offer just a few moments before, one that prevented him from thinking of anything else. Sydney sat back on her heels, puzzled.

  "What's the matter, Daddy?"

  "I've just been offered a job in New York."

  "You applied for a job there?"

  "No. Not exactly. I was referred by a friend."

  "What friend?"

  "Elizabeth."

  Sydney stiffened. He had sat for Elizabeth three more times after their first collaboration and Syd had never been happy about it. "Oh her. I didn't know you two kept in touch."

  "We don't. I haven't heard form her since the last sale."

  "Which she did really well by."

  "Didn't we all?"

  The damn dog was scratching at the bedroom door, whimpering and whining. Sydney slunk off the end of the bed, and after opening the door, scooped the mangy mutt up into her arms, showering it with kisses and cooing like a bird. In an instant this life became too small for him. The apartment was too tiny, the people too narrow minded, and his prospects, well, what prospects?

  "They asked me to go for an interview next Thursday."

  "And what did you say?"

  "I said I'd call them back later today."

  "And are you going?"

  "Maybe." It was a lie. Chandler had already decided to go really. He just hadn't found the courage to admit it. He knew she wouldn't go with him. He knew if he left it would be the end. And Sydney knew it too.

  She dropped Teddy on the end of the bed, got dressed, and then took the dog out for a walk.

  Chandler tapped the wheel of the Beemer and grit his teeth together. Damn it. It was time do or die. He squeezed the wheel of the Beemer with both hands, and finally made up his mind.

  Chapter 9

  The Dodo

  This time Chandler knew with total certainty that Sydney was here. Not through some mystic, sixth-sense cosmic nonsense, nor some heroic sense of smell; he had no nose and could never tell one girl's perfume from another. No. What gave her away in the end was that damned yippee dog, who started barking like a demon the second he opened the library door. Where Sydney went, the dog went. Stupid dog.

  Chandler didn't march up to her desk, but instead watched her for a moment through some double-paneled swing doors. And then there she was. Sydney stepped out from behind the desk wearing a little gray gym skirt, white blouse and a light gray cardigan. And like all good little girls, she wore sensible flat shoes and, of course, wore her hair in lovely little braids. Three years. He couldn't believe so much time had passed since last they spoke. He had called her, sure, but she never returned his calls, and he had written, but his Emails remained unanswered.

  No one could bear a grudge the way Sydney could. Her pouts were nothing short of epic. But if he resented her at all, all his animosity was gone in the instant he saw her exquisite, doll-like face. He wondered how she would react when he presented himself. Did she still bear him a grudge? And had she forgotten him in the experienced arms of this new older man?

  A group of school kids pushed their way through the swing doors, forcing him at last to step aside. If Chandler stood there much longer she was bound to see him, and he would feel like an gormless idiot if she saw him hanging back like a moron. He took a deep breath, and pressed forward.

  Sydney was reading the spines of some novels and at first wasn't aware anyone approached her, or if she did, she never showed it. He slowed down as he got closer. Now that he had found her, he felt ridiculously awkward, not a grown sophisticated man—the greatest success story of the Sanatana Publishing House in New York City.

  At last Sydney raised her eyes, and after the first flash of recognition her eyes grew cold, and she turned away from him and carried on with her indexing. "What are you doing here?" she said flatly.

  Chandler swallowed. "I wanted to see you. But you never answered my Emails."

  Sydney raised her eyebrows, as if to say, “Take the hint, asshole.” But she never said it. She picked up a handful of books and took them over to a shelf and placed them in their appointed slots. He stood, frozen to the spot for a moment, but then he followed her. He had come this far, he might as well see it through now. Right on cue, Teddy started barking from somewhere behind the counter, where no doubt she had him tied up. Thank God the little mutt was restrained, he thought. Chandler looked stupid enough without the added embarrassment of a crazy dog at his heels.

  "Are you going to give me the silent treatment forever?" he asked, as he caught up with her.

  "It hasn't been forever yet. Come back in a few more years when we're a bit closer to it."

  He laughed at her smart-ass remark. God, how he'd missed her. "Oh come on. You can't pretend you're not a little bit pleased to see me? I know you better than that, baby."

  She rounded on him. Her gentle blue eyes now shrunk into two slits of masked hurt. "You dare call me baby? You left me. You said there was nothing to discuss, bought a ticket to the north, and just up and left without a word. Well, as far as I'm concerned you can turn your sorry ass back the way you came and head straight back."

  Chandler scratched his forehead. After all, everything she had said was true. While he was thinking, she climbed up a ladder, giving him a glorious reminder of her cute little butt. While he stood there admiring the view, Sydney let her anger get the better of her.

  "Oh Shit! She hadn't paid full attention to what she was doing, and before either of them knew what was going on she was falling backwards. Quick as a flash he caught her, and her eyes locked with his. While she caught her breath, he set her to her feet.

  "Thank you," she said, in spite of herself.

  "You're welcome, little baby."

  She looked up at him with eyes that would have melted the heart of a tyrant. How badly he wanted to kiss her then. In three years he had never been so close to her as he was now, and yet still she was so far away. How beautiful she was, and how vulnerable. And then he remembered the other man, and he steeled his heart, and looked away. She wasn't his after all.

  As it happened, his silence had more appeal than his pleas. "So why are you here now? What brought you back?"

  What did he have to lose? He might as well be honest now. "I missed you. I wanted to see how you were getting along."

  "Well, now you see me." Her tone had softened a little, and she was looking at him more frequently. "Where are you staying?"

  "The Super 8."

  "Oh right. When did you get in town?"

  "This morning."

  "But you didn't come and see me?"

  "It's a long story."

  She looked down at her clumpy shoes and crooked one knee into another. She was confused and he knew it. "A long story involving another girl?" She averted her eyes, as if even now he had the power to hurt her.

  "No. No one. But what about you?" he said. "What have you been doing for the past three years?" It was a loaded question. He wondered if she would take the bait.

  "Working mostly. Getting over this scumbag who broke my heart."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes. You might know him. He looked just like you. Only he was much kinder and had a beautiful heart."

  "No—I can't say I know anyone like that." He bit his lip. Chandler was never a gambler, but this time the stakes were so high, he had to roll the dice. "Baby, I'm going to be serious now. I miss you. I
was a fool. I didn't know how much of a fool until I came back into town today."

  "So why did you leave me?" she asked, agitated.

  "I was missing something. Or at least I thought I was. You—you were always so clear about what you wanted. Me—I never was. I think I had to go to New York. I had to get answers to these questions because if I didn't, I'd have gone crazy wondering about it. But almost as soon as left, I knew I'd made a horrible mistake. I've missed you, baby. More than you can imagine. No, there hasn't been anyone else. How could there be? I gave my heart to you a long time ago—so it's not mine to give to anyone else."

  She looked up at him, her face a picture of skepticism. It was now or never. He took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. "But I loved you, baby, I do love you, and I'll always love you. I'm only afraid now that I've left it too late. Have I, baby? Is it too late?"

  "Three years, Daddy. It's been three years. That's a hell of a long time."

  "Yes, but now I'm here…" He paused, remembering the other man again.

  "Yes?"

  "Baby, I ran into Harry at the gas station. You remember him, don't you? Anyway he told me, well, he suggested you might have met someone—someone else."

  "What?"

  "A certain… older person."

  She looked confused for a moment, and then she began chuckling like a schoolgirl. "Oh, I know what you mean. Yes, there is a special someone in my life now."

  He took a deep breath. "So it's true then?"

  "Totally. And I have to say Buck has a very special place in my heart. I can't tell you how much I love him. There just aren't enough words."

  Something in her tone told him she was teasing him.

  "What is it?"

  "It's Buck. He's my granddaddy."

  "You mean, like—your real granddaddy?"

  She laughed. "Yes, of course he's real. He moved here when my grandma died to be closer to the family. And when my parents died—well, we take care of each other."

  "Your grandfather?"

  "Yes," she laughed. "He's a painter, you know."

  It was his turn to laugh. "Um, well yes, I had heard. Well then, baby—what do you say? Could you love me again? Could you be my little baby?"

  "Maybe," Sydney said, gently. She looked up at him, her searching eyes reflecting all the pain he'd caused her. "You really hurt me, you know."

  He was the penitent one now. "Yes. I'm sorry. And I'm asking for a chance to make it up to you. Do you think you could love me again, Sydney? Could we start over?"

  She raised her hands and wrapped them around his neck, standing on tip-toe like the little darling that she truly was. She looked up at the bookshelf.

  "Do you realize where we're standing, Daddy?"

  He put his hands around her waist, but he looked into her eyes, not over to the books. "Why don't you tell me, little baby?"

  "Do you remember Oliver Twist?"

  He smiled. "As a matter of fact I do."

  "How about a dodo?"

  "Rings a bell." He smiled. He had to kiss her now and claim her before she changed her mind. But he took his time. That sweet little mouth didn't deserve to be rushed. He put his head to hers, closed his eyes, and savored the moment. He was home now. In every way a place was meant to be a home. And he had no intention of ever leaving again. Chandler crooked his finger under her chin, and raising his lips to hers, gave Sydney a kiss to seal the deal.

  The End

  Adrienne Blake

  Adrienne Fox has published fiction in a wide variety of genres, from ghost stories to vanilla romance, and has recently branched out into the naughtier, and more exciting, world of erotic fiction.

  With a Bachelor’s Degree in Literature Studies, Adrienne has read widely and knows the secrets to a great tale, with passion and excitement being the key ingredients, along with a strong dynamic between the hero and heroine.

  As a British author, she likes nothing more than to pound away at her laptop on those cold rainy days, dreaming of ever more passionate encounters to entertain her readers and bring a little spice into their lives.

  I Belong Here

  By

  Misty Malone

  Chapter 1

  Sheriff Matt Byler made the turn off of Route 6, glad to be about home. It had been a long day and he was looking forward to a quiet evening. He had some leftover pot roast from his mom, and his mouth had been watering all afternoon. He loved his mom’s pot roast, and the idea of a quick meal after a long day sounded wonderful.

  As he turned off the main road he was a little surprised to see the car behind him turn off as well. There were only nine houses on this road, and he not only knew the people who lived in all nine of them, but the vehicles they drove, as well. Someone must be getting company. His mind wandered back to the pot roast waiting for him at home, until he passed all six of the houses at the end of the road.

  The car was still following him. The other three houses on this road were his own, followed by Theodore Winston, an older gentleman who had recently moved to an assisted living facility, and Louise Prescott, a retired widow who had flown to Florida two weeks ago to spend the winter with her daughter. She usually spent the winters down there, but she left a couple weeks earlier this year so she could spend some time with her grandson, who was in the army and about to be sent to Germany for a year.

  Matt pulled into the garage, but rather than go into his house, he walked out to the end of the lane to get his mail. While looking through his mail, he looked toward the car, and noticed it pulled into Mr. Winston’s lane. It pulled around behind the house, however, so Matt couldn’t see it. He checked his watch. Whoever it was would more than likely find no one at home, and would be leaving within a few minutes. He turned his attention back to his mail. After checking it thoroughly, he slowly walked around the house to the back door and unlocked it. He stepped one foot inside the kitchen and set the mail on the counter, while listening for the sound of the car returning.

  He looked toward his neighbor’s house again, but there was no car coming back down the road, so whoever had pulled in was still there. How long did it take to realize no one was home, and leave? He was becoming concerned. Not only was Mr. Winston a good neighbor, but how would it look if he, the local sheriff, stood idly by while his neighbor’s house was being vandalized? He glanced at his watch again, and reached a decision.

  He started walking, and five minutes later he was standing in Mr. Winston’s lane, ready to check out the mystery car. It was still there, setting in his drive, but he didn’t see the driver. No one was standing at the front door, so he went around to the back of the house. Again, there was no one around. He became a bit more alert as he walked around the corner of the house, and froze. He found the visitor, but certainly not where he expected.

  The visitor, who he could now tell was a female, appeared to be stuck, half in and half out of a window. A bucket sat underneath the window, but she had apparently lost her footing and slipped. The bucket was flipped on its side, leaving her stranded, with nothing to get her feet on to push her way into the house.

  She was squirming and flailing, trying to get in, or maybe back out. He wasn’t sure which. Regardless, she wasn’t having any luck going either way. It was pretty obvious to him what was happening, but he would keep an open mind and give her the benefit of the doubt, at least for a short time. Besides, the view she was presenting him with wasn’t at all hard to look at. It was a rather nicely shaped, rounded bottom. He found himself wishing all break-ins could be this inviting.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” he said calmly. “Anything I can help you with?”

  “You are so not funny,” said an angry-sounding lady. “Would you please help me out here?”

  “Maybe. Mind if I ask what you’re doing, and what kind of help you’re looking for?”

  She sighed very dramatically. “Okay, you’ve had your laugh. Now could you please help me get in here?”

  Matt’s eyebrows raised. “You wa
nt me to help you inside?”

  She sighed loudly again before answering. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Actually, ma’am, I might mind. Why do you want inside? What do you want to do?”

  “I hardly see that that’s any of your business. Now, are you going to help me inside, or are you going to continue being a jackass and just stand there?”

  Matt’s smile quickly turned to a frown. “Okay, I’ve tried to be patient, but you’re starting to push my buttons now. I don’t care for your attitude, or that kind of language, especially from a young lady. Now, you don’t belong here. What’s your name, and what are you doing here?”

  “Like I said, I hardly see that that’s any of your business. Damn pervert. Now, you’ve stared at my ass long enough, so would you please just help me in?”

  “And like I said, I’m trying to be patient, but you’re making that very difficult. Let me introduce myself. My name is Matt Byler, Sheriff Matt Byler. I will ask you one more time. Who are you and why are you trying to break into this house?”

  There was a lot of noise and much more wriggling, as the mystery lady tried to turn enough to look at the man she’d been conversing with. “Seriously, you’re the sheriff?”

  “Seriously. Would you like to see my badge?”

  “No, I believe you.” She paused, while she tried again, unsuccessfully, to wriggle into the house. “Well, shit.”

  Now it was Matt’s turn to sigh. “Miss, I really don’t like to hear that kind of language.”

  “Is it illegal?”

  “Well, no, of course not.”

  “Then I think you need to get over it, and help me out.”

  He swallowed, and tried to gain control of his temper. “While it’s not illegal, I don’t like hearing it, and I really don’t think you want to upset me any more right now than you already have. Now, I’ll ask you one more time, what is your name, and why are you trying to break into this house?”