by Nora Roberts
started down again. “You made her day.”
“It’s making mine. See you later.”
When he walked back into the work space, Matt raised his eyebrows. “Moving in on the local talent?”
“One step at a time.”
“She’s a looker. Got herself a very complicated life, bro.”
“Yeah. Good thing I’ve got tools.” He picked up the nail gun. “And know how to use them.”
He thought about her throughout the day. He couldn’t think of a woman who’d intrigued him more—the contrast of the sad, cautious eyes and the quick smile when she forgot to be careful. The seamless way she handled the kid. The way she looked in snug jeans.
It all worked for him.
He almost thought it was too bad the job was moving along so smoothly. A few glitches and he’d have more time to see her for a few minutes every day.
But Ada Mae was no Bitsy. When she decided on a tile, on a color, on a fixture, she stuck.
He had time to go home, clean up, change. A man didn’t take two pretty females out for pizza smelling of job sweat and sawdust. It would be an early evening, he calculated, with a three-year-old along. Which was probably for the best. He could put in a couple of hours on his own job.
In fact, he thought he might move his focus to the bedroom. A man didn’t bring a pretty female home to bed when that bed was an air mattress on the floor.
He fully intended to bring Shelby home to bed. When she and the room were ready for it.
He drove into town, snagged a parking spot on the street just a few doors down from Pizzateria. And deemed his timing perfect when Shelby got out of her minivan two spots up.
He strolled up as she lifted Callie out of the car seat.
“Give you a hand?”
“Oh, I’ve got it. Thank you.”
“Hey.” He heard the tears in her voice even before she turned with Callie in her arms and he saw them welling in her eyes. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Oh, it’s just—”
“Mama’s happy. She has happy tears,” Callie explained.
“You’re happy?”
“Yes. Very.”
“The combination of me and pizza doesn’t usually bring women to tears.”
“It’s not that. I was just on the phone. We were a little early as Callie was so anxious. And the realtor called. The house up North, it’s sold.” One of the tears spilled down her cheek before she could brush it away.
“Happy tears,” Callie announced. “Hug Mama, Griff.”
“Sure.”
Before she could evade, he had both Shelby and Callie wrapped in a hug.
He felt her hold stiff for a moment, then just melt.
“It’s just such a relief. It’s like a mountain fell off my shoulders.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “We’re definitely celebrating. Right, Callie? Happy pizza.”
“We don’t like the house. We’re glad it’s not ours now.”
“That’s right. That’s right.” Shelby took a breath, leaned in just one more moment, then straightened. “We don’t like the house, not for us. Now somebody who does like it has it. Very happy pizza. Thank you, Griffin.”
“You need a minute?”
“No. No, I’m good.”
“Then give me the girl.” He hefted Callie into his arms. “And let’s get this party started.”
12
The kid was a charmer, entertained and engaged him—and flattered him by insisting on sitting next to him in the booth.
He might have had a moment or two wishing the mother would flirt as overtly as the daughter, but a man couldn’t have everything.
It was a nice break to his day, between the job and the project.
When the manager came out, pulled Shelby from her seat for a hug, he examined his reaction.
Not jealousy, not exactly, but a kind of inner “Careful there, buddy” as he waited to see just what was what.
“I kept missing you.” Johnny Foster, a man with a sly smile and an easy manner, kept his hands on Shelby’s shoulders to take a long look. “But here you are now. Didn’t realize you knew Griff.” Johnny slung an arm over Shelby’s shoulders as he turned to Griff. “Shelby and I go back.”
“My cousin Johnny, here, and my brother Clay used to look for trouble together.”
“And found it as often as possible.”
“You’re cousins?”
“Third, fourth, what is it?” Johnny wondered.
“Third, I think, once or twice removed.”
“Kissing cousins,” he said, and gave her one, lightly. “And you’re Callie, and aren’t you as pretty as a strawberry float. It’s nice meeting you, cousin.”
“I’m on a date with Griff. We’re going to have pizza.”
“This is the place for it. We’re going to find some time and catch up,” he said to Shelby. “All right?”
“All right. Clay said you were manager here now.”
“Yeah. Who’d have thought? Y’all get your order in?”
“Just a minute ago.”
“You watch over there, Callie.” He pointed to the counter where a man in a white apron ladled sauce on dough. “I’ll be making your pizza myself, special. And I’ve got some tricks. Meant to tell you, Griff, whatever y’all did with the furnace worked like a charm. Hasn’t given us any trouble since.”
“Good to hear.”
“Pizza coming up.”
Shelby slid back into the booth. “It sounds like you and Matt are fixing something somewhere all over the Ridge.”
“That’s the plan. The guy who can fix your furnace when the temperatures dive, or your toilet on a Sunday morning when you’ve got people coming to dinner? He’s a popular guy.”
She laughed. “And who doesn’t like being popular? Busy, too. How do you manage to make yourself popular and do all the work on the old Tripplehorn place?”
“Being popular’s the job. The house is the project. I do better with the job when I’ve got a good project going.”
“Mama, look!” Callie bounced in her seat. “The cousin man’s doing tricks.”
“And he’s learned some new ones,” Shelby commented as Johnny tossed up dough, did a quick spin, caught it.
“Looks like we’re having magic pizza.”
Wide-eyed, Callie turned to Griff. “Magic pizza?”
“Pretty sure. Don’t you see that magic dust flying?”
With eyes like blue saucers now, she looked back at Johnny, gasped. “It sparkles!”
The power of a kid’s imagination, Griff thought. “You bet. When you eat magic pizza, it turns you into a fairy princess in your dreams.”
“It does?”
“That’s what I’ve heard. Of course, you’ve got to eat it, then when your mother says it’s bedtime, you’ve got to go right to bed, and wish for it.”
“I will. But you can’t be a fairy princess ’cause you’re a boy. That’s silly.”
“That’s why I’m the prince who slays the fangbeast.”
“Princes slay dragons!”
“I don’t get that.” Playing it up, he let out a sad sigh, shook his head—caught Shelby smiling at him from across the table. “I like dragons. You might be able to squeeze in another wish and get yourself your own dragon. You could fly on him over your kingdom.”
“I like dragons, too. I’m going to fly on mine. Her name’s Lulu.”
“Can’t think of a better name for a dragon.”
“You’ve got a way,” Shelby murmured, and Griff grinned over at her.
“Oh, I’ve got lots of ways.”
“I just bet you do.”
He decided it was the best hour of his day, sitting in the noisy pizzeria, entertaining a little girl and making her mother laugh. He didn’t see why it wasn’t something he couldn’t work into his regular schedule.
Everybody could use some magic pizza now and then.
“This was so nice,” Shelby said
when he walked them back to her car. “You sure made Callie’s first date one to remember.”
“We’ll have to have a second. Are you going to go out with me again, Callie?”
“Okay. I like ice cream.”
“That’s a real coincidence—I’m starting to think we’re made for each other. I like ice cream, too.”
She gave him what he could only term a femme fatale smile from under her lashes. “You can take me on a date with ice cream.”
“Now look what you started.” Amused, Shelby hauled Callie up into the car seat.
“How about Saturday?”
Busy strapping Callie in, Shelby glanced back. “What?”
“How about an ice cream date on Saturday?”
“Okay!” Callie bounced in her seat.
“I have to work,” Shelby began.
“Me, too. After work.”
“Well, I . . . I guess. Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t. Don’t forget to make your wish, Callie.”
“I’m going to be a fairy princess and ride my dragon.”
“Callie, what do you say to Griffin?”
“Thank you for the date.” In joyful innocence, she held out her arms. “Kiss.”
“You got it.”
He leaned in, kissed her. Laughing, she rubbed his cheek.
“I like your scratchies. They tickle. Kiss Mama now.”
“Sure.”
He figured she’d offer a cheek, and didn’t see why he had to settle. A man could move fast without seeming to, especially when he’d thought it through.
He set his hands on her hips, glided them up her back with his eyes on hers. He watched hers widen in surprise—but not protest. So he went with it.
He dipped down, took her mouth with his as if they had all the time in the world. As if they weren’t standing on the sidewalk of High Street, seen by anyone who passed by or glanced out a window.
It wasn’t hard to forget where they were when her body melted against his, with her lips, warm and soft, yielding.
Her mind just emptied, every thought—past, present, future—flooding away as sensation flooded in and swamped her. Her body went limp even as it leaped to life. Her head spun in long, lazy circles as if she’d had just a sip too much of good wine.
She smelled soap and skin and the hyacinths in the whiskey barrel across the sidewalk. And heard what she realized later was the hum of pleasure in her own throat.
He let her go as smoothly as he’d taken her. His eyes stayed on hers again, watchful.
“I thought so,” he murmured.
“I . . . just . . .” She realized she couldn’t quite feel her feet, had to fight the urge to look down to make sure they were still there. “Have to go.”
“See you later.”
“I . . . Fingers on noses, Callie.”
Callie put her fingers on her nose. “Bye, Griff. Bye!”
He waved as Shelby closed the door, hooked his thumbs in his pockets when she walked around to the driver’s side. And couldn’t stop the grin when she staggered, just a little.
He waved again when, after some fumbling, she started the engine, pulled away.
Yeah, definitely the best hour of his day. He couldn’t wait to do it again.
• • •
SHE DROVE HOME with extra care. She really did feel as if she’d had a bottle of wine instead of a glass of Coke with her pizza. And that hum kept wanting to come back to her throat, a kind of echo to the butterflies dancing around in her belly.
Callie started nodding off on the short drive home, the excitement of the day taking its toll. But she perked up again, a little on the hyper side, when Shelby parked.
She’d let her daughter run down again, she thought. It wouldn’t take long. And she had to be coherent, put all this business aside. She didn’t have time for flutterings or hummings.
Shelby didn’t have to do much more than listen as Callie frantically relayed the details of her date to her grandparents.
“And we’re gonna have an ice cream date on Saturday.”
“Is that so? Well, this sounds pretty serious.” Ada Mae shot Shelby a speculative look. “Maybe your granddaddy should ask this boy his intentions.”
“And his prospects,” Clayton added.
“I’m their chaperone,” Shelby said cheerfully. “Oh, I saw Johnny Foster. Didn’t have much time to talk to him as they were busy. He’s the one who tossed the dough. He made the magic pizza, right, Callie?”
“Uh-huh, and Griff said I can ride a dragon, and he’s going to kill the . . . what is it, Mama?”
“I think it was a fangbeast.”
“He’s gonna kill it dead, and then we’ll get married.”
“That must’ve been some pizza,” Clayton commented.
“You can be the king, Granddaddy, and Gamma’s the queen.” She ran in circles around the room, twirling, jumping. “And Clancy can come, too.” She threw her arms around the old dog. “And I’m going to wear a beautiful dress, then it says kiss the bride. It tickles when Griff kisses, doesn’t it, Mama?”
“I—”
“Does it?” Now Ada Mae wore a smug smile.
“Uh-huh. When is it Saturday, Mama?”
“Soon enough.” Shelby caught Callie on the fly, gave her a spin. “Now we’re going up. You need your bath before you go dreaming and getting married to handsome princes.”
“Okay.”
“Go on up, put your clothes in your hamper. I’ll be two seconds. She had the best time,” Shelby said when Callie ran for the stairs.
“How about you?”
“It was nice. He’s so sweet with her. But what I wanted to tell you both is right before dinner, I got a call. The house sold.”
“The house?” Ada Mae looked blank for a moment, then plopped down in a chair as her eyes filled. “Oh, Shelby, the house up North. I’m so glad. I’m so glad of that.”
“Happy tears.” Shelby pulled out one of the tissues always in her pocket. “I did the same. It’s such a burden lifted.” She turned