“Aw, Nick, I wanted to stay with you,” Jessica whined.
“Well, maybe if you behave yourself I might bring you back a little something, how’s that sound?”
“Okay, I guess.” Her bottom lip just about dragged in the dust as she moped while gathering up a couple of toys. It soon turned to delighted shrieks however when Nick lifted her into the air and helicoptered her a couple of times before setting her lightly over the fence into Tess’s backyard who’d come to the door to see what the fuss was about. Waving, she ushered Jessica into the house, no doubt for another baking marathon, and round of afternoon soaps.
Nick’s lower abs, exposed in the lift, had stopped Sara’s breath. Then he turned and caught her staring. Blushing hotly, she backed away from the window and grabbed up her purse and keys.
Idiot.
She was acting like a teenager with her first crush for crying out loud. She’d known he had a muscular build—but—Wow.
Embarrassment had her hurrying out the front door, intent on getting to her car before Nick decided maybe they should ride together. She’d just gotten the key in the ignition when he came striding around the corner of the house.
Opening the passenger door, he asked, “Hey, can I catch a lift?” and slid into the seat, slamming the door shut behind him before she could reply.
“Cripes, you call this thing a car? There's more room in a tin can,” he grumbled, jamming the seat back as far as it would go and his head still brushed the roof. With shoulders jammed against the window and his knees bent at an awkward angle, he looked like a pretzel. “How safe is this contraption anyway?”
Sara couldn’t help it, she snickered at his predicament. “Beggars can’t be choosers, and besides…you shouldn't cast stones on poor Mirabelle. You'll hurt her feelings.”
“You named your car? Why am I not surprised?” he grunted, trying without much success to shift to a more comfortable position. “Look, my truck’s in the shop and I figured since you were going anyway?”
Deciding to let him off the hook—the poor man looked like he was in enough pain—she relented. “Okay, you can come, but no more nit-picking remarks about my girl here, she’s sensitive.” Patting the cracked vinyl dash, she peeked at him as he fought to reach his seatbelt, when had her car become so small?
His big body crammed in this close had her nerves springing around like Mexican jumping beans. There were laws about distractions while driving, weren’t there? The thought of him among all the sewing do-dads in Annie’s store was enough to threaten the eruption of a mile-wide smile. “Are you sure you want to come with me? I’m going to be a while. I need to stop at the post office to check on a parcel first, and then I’m meeting my friend over at the Craft Shack, you won’t like it.”
* * *
A light, summery fragrance filled her little car, teasing him with the scent of her. She wore some kind of summer dress that left way too much skin showing for his peace of mind. He itched to touch her right where it ended, halfway up her mouth-watering thighs. Thin straps showed off creamy shoulders, and the front crossed and tied in a neat little bow on the side—begging him to pull the strings. This wasn’t one of his brighter ideas. He’d started out with the notion of getting to know her a little better, maybe finding out what their story was. But now, sitting beside her in the too small car, his thoughts were definitely not of the ‘let’s be friends’ sort.
“There’s no rush. But on the way home could you drop by the hardware store?” Listen to him, sounding all domesticated.
“You really want to trail behind me all day? What are you, a masochist?”
Yep, I’m starting to think so.
The smile she sent his way showed a hint of teeth, proving he got to her at least half as much as she bothered him. Good.
The geriatric car groaned to life, spitting and gurgling, happier to be spending its days sunning on the warm asphalt drive than lumbering across town. Nick was just relieved when they pulled up in front of the post office without him having to push. An obvious landmark in the little community, its rosy brick facade cast a benevolent shadow over the main street.
He followed Sara out of the rattletrap, startled to hear a voice calling out to her from across the road.
“Good morning, Sara, beautiful day, isn't it?” A buxom blonde was sweeping the sidewalk in front of a hair salon, aptly named Hair Affair.
Shading her eyes from the morning light, Sara waved and called back, “Hi, Jenny, it is a lovely day. I'll have to come see you soon for a trim, before it gets too warm out.”
“Sure thing, anytime, honey. And you’re more than welcome to bring him with you.” She cast admiring eyes up and down Nick’s body, and practically purred. “I’m great with men.”
After another short wave, Sara sent him a look, and brushed by to climb the stairs entering the post office.
Nick gave the woman across the street a smiling shrug before turning to stare at Sara’s ass as it twitched back and forth like an angry cat until it was out of sight. He trailed her into the building, not sure why her panties were in a knot. But then, he’d be the first to say he didn’t understand women. He’d always enjoyed them. How they looked, how they smelled, and even how they cried at the drop of a hat, but he’d never understood their way of thinking.
He could have been crossing the street right now to cozy up to that cute little blonde, instead here he was, trailing after Sara like a sad-eyed puppy dog.
Pathetic, Kelley.
Entering the lobby of the old building, he found her standing near a guy wearing a baseball jersey for the Yankee's.
Seriously. Everyone knows the Red Sox rule, dude.
His annoying chuckle irritated Nick all the way across the room. When she smiled at something the chump said, his hackles rose in tempo with his pace. Nearing them, Nick could hear him asking her, “Does that guy know you, Sara? He looks like he’s about ready to rip my head off.”
Good call, buddy.
Forcing a polite smile as he joined them, one hand moved possessively to the small of her back.
She edged sideways, golden eyes still sparking with annoyance as she shifted, trying to dislodge his hand—unsuccessfully. “This is my neighbor, Nick. Don’t worry, he always has the brooding thing going on. Smiling would crack his jaw, I’m sure.”
With a knowing smirk towards where Nick had placed his hand, the guy held his gaze in a contest of wills. “Ty Garrett, if you live in the neighborhood you must know my aunt, Tess. She rents a lot of the houses around there.”
What was he doing? If she wanted to date every single person in this town, it shouldn’t matter to him. He was only here temporarily, long enough to finish his therapy and maybe try to get his shit together. She had friends here, good people who seemed to care for her and her little girl. He had no place in that.
“Yeah, she’s a nice lady; I’m actually staying in one of her houses.” Cursing himself for an idiot, Nick looked down into her rosy face. “Listen, I'm going to walk over to the hardware store. I’ll meet you at the diner in about half an hour, okay?”
* * *
Sara watched his smooth stride away from her side, glad Nick's warm hand had dropped away from her back. Really, she was.
“Are you two—?”
Rattled because she’d forgotten Ty standing beside her, Sara turned away, determined to get a certain dark-haired devil off her mind. “No. Nick is helping your aunt with a few repairs around my house, that’s all. We’re friends.”
And they were. He’d proven himself to be a good man. Always patient with Jessica. Fixing things around the house, like her rickety stairs. Or the day he’d stopped into the kitchen for a glass of water, seen her dripping tap, and fixed that too. All things Tom would never have dreamed of handling himself. And there was nothing wrong with the view either as Nick worked his magic with her yard, his muscled arms and legs bunching and flexing at his every command. On warm days, his shirt would stick damply to his chest, highlighting his abs
and muscled back.
The man was seriously H O T.
In another time and place, she might even have been tempted, but after all the trauma of her life with Tom, she wasn’t that girl anymore. Except, she couldn’t seem to forget about that darn kiss.
“All right, so how about going out with me Friday night for dinner and a little dancing then? Come out and play, Sara, you won't regret it.” Ty’s warm voice broke through her meandering thoughts.
He was a good-looking man, came from a great family and had been asking her out for months now, with no success. Maybe she needed to try again. And it certainly had nothing to do with her silly attraction to Nick. As a matter of fact, the more she thought about it, the more it made perfect sense. She was lonely.
Already regretting it and not sure why, Sara nonetheless gave him the answer he was looking for. “What time?”
Chapter Five
Sara pulled up to the curb in front of Grits and Grace, and turned off a grumbling Mirabelle, all the while arguing with herself over saying yes to a date with Ty. She wasn’t ready to jump back into the dating world. It’d taken her months after Tom to get to the point where she could even converse normally with a man.
She was perfectly satisfied with the status quo, thank you very much. Well okay, maybe not exactly…satisfied, per se. But she could certainly make do without men. Walter, her battery-operated boyfriend worked if she found herself desperate. The problem was Sara hadn’t realized until The Kiss, how much she’d missed some of the intimacies to be found between a man and a woman. Maybe it’d do her good to go out and test the dating pool. Have some fun, before her ovaries shriveled up like year old prunes.
Ignoring Miss Doom and Gloom going on inside her head, she pushed open the door of the diner, smiling as bells above sang out a tinkling welcome. Stopping for a moment, she was hit with a sensory overload of frying bacon, coffee, the clang of the till and chatter of happy patrons. Popular with the locals, it was much like stepping into a past era. A beautifully preserved Jukebox stood sentinel in a corner of the room, a slightly scratchy rendition of Teddy Bear emitting from its large speakers. Red leather seats, Formica tabletops and black and white checkerboard flooring were all straight out of a fifties sit-com. Looking for Nick, she found him at one of the window booths. He reminded her of bad boy, James Dean as he sat there with an arm over the back of the booth, flirting with Grace Martin, the diner’s owner.
One of her favorite people, Grace was every bit as tall as she was round. She epitomized the old adage, Never Trust a Skinny Cook. Blessed with a face that never seemed to age, she was one of those people you meet once and feel like you’ve known forever. Her diner was the perfect place to sit, have a thick slice of homemade apple pie topped with a generous scoop of slowly melting vanilla ice cream, and catch up on all the juicy gossip which made small town living so unique.
As she slid into her seat across the table from him, Nick cast those gorgeous lake blue eyes in her direction, and the sparkle lighting their depths reeled her in effortlessly—the man was lethal.
“Well, well, if it isn't my, Sara Sunshine. Where you been hiding, girl? Old Gracie hasn’t seen you in far too long. And where is little, Jessica Bean?” Grace’s smoky voice drifted over her like a warm blanket.
Dragging her gaze away from Nick, Sara smiled at her friend. “Hi, Grace, and you’re right, it has been too long. Jessica is over at Tess’s house, probably baking up a storm.” They both grinned, aware of Tess’s infamous messes whenever she got it in her head to bake. No dish was safe. “I wanted to drop in and see Annie for the paint I’d ordered, and thought I’d better stop for some of the delicious food you always spoil me with.”
“Well darlin’, I'll get right on that, but first, who’s this young stud muffin? He’s been busy trying to sweet talk me into running away with him,” she smirked, her cheeks rushing up to meet her eyes. “It's about time sugar-pie. I was beginning to think you needed me to find you a nice young man, but looking at him, you did a fine job all by your little lonesome.” Grace grinned at Nick, and Nick grinned back, looking already half in love, and he hadn't even tasted the food yet.
“Oh no, it's nothing like that.” Her cheeks warm, she hurried to clarify, “Nick's my neighbor. He’s been doing some repairs on my house for Tess.” She caught a look that flickered across his face. How did he expect her to introduce him? She squirmed in her seat as his gaze dissected her for a long moment, his eyes now deep, reflective pools.
Then his mouth quirked, “Sweetheart, you’re going to give Grace here the wrong idea. You know I'm at your house more than I'm at my own.” He lifted one of Sara's hands and ran his thumb in a slow caress over the tops of her knuckles, causing goose bumps to erupt and her nipples to tighten.
Oh, man.
Pulling her over-sensitized hand out of his, she crossed her arms over her chest and chastised, “Nick, quit goofing off and let’s order. I'm starving.”
His low, “Me too, honey, me too,” sent quivers of lust shooting through her belly. She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about food anymore.
Grace gave them both a “get a room” look, but thankfully refrained from commenting on it. “Okay chickies, specials today are Broccoli and Cheese stuffed Tilapia, My Grace of God Meatloaf, or a Sloppy Joe Grilled Cheese. And for dessert, we have To Die for Strawberry Rhubarb Pie or Momma's Recipe Pumpkin Bread Pudding with a warm caramel sauce drizzled over the top.”
“Well, I can't turn down meatloaf, and the bread pudding sounds perfect. What do you think, Sara?” Nick asked, skimming a knowing look at her arms.
“I think I'll stick with a nice salad, maybe with some grilled chicken on top. I need room for your strawberry pie, Grace; you know I can't leave without having some of that.” She laughed.
“No wonder you’re so skinny, child. You need food if you’re going to put some meat on those bones.” Shaking her head, Grace waddled into her kitchen, no doubt intent on performing gourmet miracles.
* * *
Now that they were alone, Nick sat back enjoying the easy ebb and flow of conversations around him. A cute old couple in a booth across from theirs sat on the same side of the table sharing a mountainous piece of pie. A man about his age rested his back against the wall in the corner by the jukebox, green eyes flashing as he talked on his cell phone. And a group of men, ages ranging from fifty to about a hundred by the looks of the one shrunken old guy, were solving world issues at a booth in the back. One of the servers, he guessed a lifer by the coordinated ease that she lined loaded plates along her bony arms, sassed Grace at the kitchen window and got an earful for her trouble. He grinned, it’d been a long time since he’d felt so relaxed in a public place.
Even after being back as long as he had, he still sometimes suffered from flashbacks and night sweats, and knew he was one of the lucky ones.
Seeking lighter thoughts, he turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him, nervously twisting her cup in its saucer. He liked that he made her nervous. Lord knows, she did things to him, also. Things best not thought about in public places.
A painting of Grace's diner on the wall behind her caught his eye. The Cascade Mountains made a perfect backdrop for the little cafe. Its brick façade, complimented by baskets of summer flowers hanging between the windows, and on the walkway below, managed to convey a feeling of welcoming warmth. Squinting to make out the name, S. Reed, in the bottom corner, Nick realized he was sitting with that gifted artist right now. “Did you paint that, Sara? It’s brilliant.”
Flushing at the sincere compliment, she nodded. “When we first moved here, Grace and Tess were kind enough to take us in under their wings. I wanted to give a little something back, so I did a painting for each of them. Grace has had plenty of offers, but refuses to part with it. She said it's going with her all the way to the Pearly Gates.” Her eyes lit up with laughter, her glistening lips tilted upward full of warmth and fondness.
She should do that more often. Smile. It
lit her up from the inside out, making her truly gorgeous. She was attracted to him. The signs were there in the blooming color on her cheeks whenever she looked at him. How her gaze met his, and then flitted away.
And then there was that kiss.
He knew about passion, had been in his fair share of relationships. Hell, he’d even been married once. But their kiss? It’d done something to him. Purely, in a field of its own. He’d even forgotten there was a kid in the house, for crying out loud. And when she’d kissed him back? He couldn’t have recited his own name, even at gunpoint.
The white picket fence and two-story house thing complete with wife and kids had never been for him. He’d seen, first with his parents, then later in his own life, happy-ever-after was mostly a lark. Didn’t happen, at least not very damn often. And the kids were almost always the ones to pay the harshest for those screw-ups. He swore that wasn’t going to be him. Not again. He was fine on his own, anyway. It was better this way. And if he was a little lonely occasionally, he could call a friend. He had his dog.
He was good. Fine. Perfect.
Thinking he should come clean and explain his short-term presence in Tidal Falls, Nick began, “You know…”
At the same moment, Sara confessed, “You know, I’m a…”
They both stopped. Looked into each other’s eyes. Smiled.
“Ladies first.” He offered, more than happy to put off mentioning his looming departure.
“I was just going to say I think I'm something of a closet romantic. I think it’s what drew me to this town. Everyone I’ve met has been kind-hearted and welcoming. I appreciate it so much.”
“What about your husband? You must miss him.” The more he came to know her and her daughter, the more he wanted her to confide in him. Tell him the truth about what was going on so he could help her. But watching her shoulders slump inward and her face lose its animation, he was sorry he’d brought it up.
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