Sweet May

by Reina M. Williams

  “Wouldn’t miss it. We’ll show these folks a thing or two.” Mrs. G’s voice wavered and she leaned back, her hand at her eyes again.

  Mandy hopped up and hurried to her side. “You sure you’re all right? How about I help you lock up and get you home?”

  “You’re a sweetheart.” Mrs. G patted her hand. “All right. Will you let me treat you to a movie and cheesecake?”

  “I never say no to that.” She held Mrs. G’s hand as she rose. The older woman seemed steady now, and she slid her hand away and bundled up.

  Soon, they were out on the sidewalk, arms looped together. Frost patchworked on the sidewalk, yet it wasn’t really worry for Mrs. G that kept Mandy close to her. Mandy had never known her grandparents, and her parents had each passed by the time she’d gone to college. They’d made as warm and happy a home as she could ask for, and now some of that same cozy contentment embraced her here in Loving.

  They entered Mrs. G’s house, where Mandy was renting a room until something else came up, and unbundled, hanging coats and scarves on the rack by the door. The old two-story house radiated warmth and smelled like Mrs. G’s morning coffee laced with cinnamon. Soon, Mrs. G had a pot of decaf ready, while Mandy had a tray with slices of Las Tres Hermanas’ cheesecake. The rich confection used local cheese, and even the graham cracker crust, with homemade crackers, originated with local wheat and honey.

  The two settled into the cushy sofa, and Mrs. G asked Mandy what movie she wanted to watch. The photo of Mrs. G with the Manning brothers, one of those that crowded the table behind the loveseat, caught Mandy’s gaze.

  “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers,” she said, more than ready for the bass-baritone of Howard Keel, perfectly matched with Jane Powell’s melodic voice. Not to mention the dance sequences, which had Mandy practically swooning while watching. She hadn’t been a dance major in college for nothing.

  Mrs. G streamed the film, meanwhile chatting about the various stars, which led into a discussion of women in Hollywood and the outdated aspects of the movie. Mandy could talk old Hollywood for days, and she did on her blog. Her favorite dance number came up. The pain of her injury, the one that had derailed her dance career plans, no longer ached, either physically or emotionally. She could still dance, and she could still be happy. And she still wanted to find home.

  Chapter Three

  Flint, already dressed for the wedding today, knocked on Mrs. G’s door. The morning sun melted away the frost from last night, but he still harbored a chill from his uncharacteristically restless night. At least he was on track this morning, decisively planning his day, with a visit to Mrs. G first on the list. After picking up a box of pastries at Las Tres Hermanas to share with her, that was. Then he and Mrs. G could talk about this date with Mandy. Because he wasn’t about to mess this up. First impressions and all that.

  He’d already had a first impression. He gripped the box tighter. Get ahold of yourself, Manning. Stop channeling Ethan. Though that might not be so bad at this point, since Ethan had bucked up and finally told Autumn West, their friend from childhood, how he felt about her, and now the two were nearly inseparable. He wouldn’t have thought it of Autumn, who was practical and unsentimental.

  And who loved to get the best of him. A thought rippled in his mind—could Autumn be setting him up to get pranked by Mandy? No, that would be too elaborate of a scheme, though he wouldn’t put it past Autumn. He couldn’t see someone with Mandy’s open expression and seeming kindness being in on something like that. Besides, from what he could gather last night from Ethan and Autumn, Mandy and Autumn were just acquaintances. He’d be concerned that Autumn was hiding something, but his twin brother couldn’t lie to him.

  He knocked again, about ready to find that key Mrs. G kept hidden, as it was taking so long to answer the door.

  “Coming!” a woman’s voice called. Too young to be Mrs. G. The curtain on the side window twitched then the door opened.

  He stepped forward, and nearly tripped, as the door only cracked enough for a face to peek out. He almost dropped the box and his cheeks heated. Mandy.

  “Good morning. We weren’t expecting you.”

  “We?” Quit acting like a kid, Manning.

  “Mrs. G and me.” Her serene yet amused expression made his heart gallop in his ears.

  “What are you doing here?” He wished he could swallow back the words.

  “I’m renting a room. I guess I could ask the same of you.” She seemed to be gripping a robe or some hot pink garment to her.

  He gripped the box, trying to focus on something other than imagining what was under that garment. The color seemed to echo on her cheeks and he realized he was staring. At her chest. Real smooth, Manning.

  “Can we start over?” he croaked out, averting his eyes to the side window.

  “Sure.”

  That was all she was going to say? He glanced at her and couldn’t help but return her grin. He made a slight bow and held up the box. “Good morning. Glad to see you again. I bring treats. May I come in?” So it wasn’t his most charming effort, but it had the right effect as the door opened wide. He stepped in.

  “You may. As you see, we’re not quite company-ready.” She held the top of what was indeed a robe with one hand and waved the other along her curvy side.

  Instead of the box, he was ready to drop to his knees. But he wouldn’t. Begging this woman for he-didn’t-know-what...okay, he could think of a few things...was too much too soon. As was the race happening in his chest, and the heat waving up his back, reaching around as if to embrace him completely.

  “Who is it?” Mrs. G called from upstairs.

  “Flint,” Mandy said. Even when she spoke loudly, there was something soft and amused in her tone that made him smile.

  He thought the older woman chuckled, but at this point, it could be any of them. “Invite him for breakfast. Be down in a moment.”

  “Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Mandy asked with a sweet lilt in her words.

  “Like nothing more.” Again, he could think of a few somethings, but he really needed to focus on not continuing to make a fool of himself around this woman. Each moment with her made him more sure that he needed to work to get to know her and not be his usual carefree self.

  He followed her into the kitchen, which was warm with scents of coffee and muffins. Sure enough, the pot was full of dark brew, and what looked to be blueberry muffins stood on a cooling rack.

  “Help yourself to some coffee and a muffin. I’ve got to get dressed, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Before she could turn, he caught her gaze. It was as if he’d been lassoed and he found he enjoyed it, very much. Who’d have thought?

  “Uh...can I do anything?” He’d almost said “for you” but fortunately he’d stopped himself.

  “Well, I hope so.” She grinned. “I bet you can do all kinds of things.”

  She threw him so far off his game he wasn’t even playing anymore. Flint Manning, failing at flirting. It would be a sad day, if he weren’t bubbling with happiness at being near Mandy. At the high likelihood she was flirting with him.

  “Can’t take that bet, ‘cause I don’t like losing.” Most of all, he didn’t want to lose a potential chance with her.

  She dropped the grip on her robe and placed her hands on her hips, not in a challenge, but in a casual, let’s see what you’ve got, cowboy move. His mouth watered and he tried not to stare at the flash of peachy, delectable skin that showed. He could show her whatever she wanted. Okay, slow down, Manning. Mrs. G is on her way in.

  “Good to know,” Mandy said. “I’d love a cup of coffee with a sugar and splash of milk. And a surprise treat, if you please.” She gave an adorable kind of curtsey move that stilled him and made him riveted on her as she turned and strolled out.

  If he’d been wearing his hat, he’d have taken it off and slapped his thigh with it, exclaiming at his sheer good fortune. He hoped. He was getting ahead of himself. But wasn’t he one to g
allop ahead?

  “Good morning. What’s got you grinning?” Mrs. G patted his arm.

  “Brought you some treats.” He set down the box on the table. “How about you take a seat and I’ll get you coffee and a plate?”

  “I say yes.” She slid into a chair at the table. “Is there any other cause for this visit than you love me and knew I’d be too busy to cook myself some breakfast this morning?”

  “Mandy made the muffins, then?” he asked.

  “She did. She’s a sweetheart. And excited to go to the wedding reception. You’ll take good care of her, I know.”

  “Wouldn’t do any less. Is she straight and single?” He might as well get to the point. He placed a mug of coffee in front of Mrs. G and slid a plate next to it.

  Then he started on setting the treats and some muffins on a platter. His chest tightened as the silence lengthened.

  “Yes, she is. You interested in her?”

  “I am.” The seriousness in his tone surprised him. Mandy was an all-around shock. He’d always been one for the unexpected.

  “Glad to hear it, as long as it doesn’t involve trifling. She deserves better.”

  He deserved that. Not recently, but he’d been known to not handle dating in the most considerate of ways. Heck, he’d been what Mrs. G would call a cad, in her Clark Gable impression to diffuse the admonishment of it.

  “I hear you. I plan on treating her as well as I know how.” He started with making her the cup of coffee she wanted, and setting a muffin and a cardamom morning bun on a plate. Something had made him buy extras at the bakery, and now he virtually patted himself on the back.

  Mandy walked in, and he nearly dropped the coffee pot, but managed to finish pouring himself a cup. He stood still, unable to keep his eyes from her. She wore some sort of watercolor-like floral dress, almost sheer, with a cream slip of a dress underneath. Somehow, it made her skin glow and highlighted her ample take-him-to-his-knees curves. Her brown hair waved around her face, which now showed a smile.

  “Thank you,” she said to him as she sat and inhaled the aroma of the coffee before doing the same with the morning bun. “What a great surprise!” She took the empty plate meant for him and placed a muffin and a winter squash puff pastry square on it. “Join us?”

  He nodded and sat next to her, between what he knew now were his two favorite women in the world. He was a goner and he’d enjoy every moment he was given of it all, even if it were only today.

  He sipped his coffee, for once at a loss for words. Mandy bit into the bun, moaning softly. He’d be glad of the cover of the table over him if she kept that up. Mrs. G snapped his attention away from the brink of the inappropriate abyss when she cleared her throat. He’d improved, anyway, and would keep reminding himself that he could even be friends with Mandy, if that were all she wanted. She was his kind of person, that was sure.

  Mrs. G rose. “Well, I’ve got a busy day ahead. Gotta get over to Dolly’s and help the bride, as well as checking in with all the wedding prep. What are you two up to?”

  He loved Mrs. G for creating the assumption that he and Mandy might be spending the whole day together. Bonus, big time, and he could kiss Mrs. G for it.

  Mandy’s brow crinkled. “I thought you might need my help?” she asked Mrs. G. “I’m all ready.”

  “You’re a dear, but everything is on the go. I know you’re worried about last night, but I just had a checkup with Dr. George. Just need some new glasses is all but haven’t wanted to go into Missoula to the eye doctor. Still, maybe keep your phone handy just in case? How about you keep Flint here from pulling some sort of nonsense on the groom’s car or whatever stunt he was planning.”

  Both women glanced at him with a hint of censure in their ripple of amusement. “Me? I wasn’t planning anything, scout’s honor.”

  Mrs. G huffed. “You were never a boy scout, Flint Manning.” She set her dishes in the sink.

  He shrugged and turned to Mandy. “But maybe you’d like to keep watch over me, just in case?” He tried for a devilish grin, but wasn’t sure he’d pulled it off, as she still knit her brows.

  “I never was the babysitting kind.” It was an offhand remark, and she sipped her coffee.

  Fair enough, though her tone and implication stung a bit. “Ouch. How about some pre-wedding festivities, then?”

  She cradled her mug in one hand and touched his arm with the other. The electric effect made every nerve ending in his arm warm, causing him to feel as if he were soaking in a hot spring, relaxed and happy.

  “Need a bandage for your ouch? I can play nursemaid. But festivities sound even better.”

  His words stopped again in the face of her flirt, and the images it produced. “As you wish.” He might end as battered as Wesley in The Princess Bride after taking a tumble down the hillside, and he didn’t care.

  “Inconceivable!” She laughed, and he joined her, happy in her joy, and finding a possible fellow movie fan.

  “I can see you two will get along fine. Thanks for breakfast and I’ll be looking for you at the wedding reception.” Mrs. G kissed the tops of each of their heads in turn.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he and Mandy said at once.

  Mrs. G waved over her shoulder. The front door shut and Mandy said, “Jinx. You owe me a lemonade.”

  He chuckled. “In my family, it was a root beer. How about we play tourist and get huckleberry sodas at this farm stand out on the old highway.”

  “You did promise me festivities. That’d be a good stop.” She finished off her bun and sipped her coffee, her enjoyment showering him in star-like shimmer.

  Yep, he’d taken off into the love universe, to borrow his brother Grant’s phrase about his trek into romance. Flint needed to come back to earth, though, and make sure Mandy wanted to orbit with him.

  Chapter Four

  He came out of nowhere she sang from “Wonderful, Wonderful Day” in her head as she and Flint cleaned up after they’d finished breakfast. The hint of attraction that nudged her yesterday had shouted at her today when he’d walked through the door, all adoring gaze and treats, literally and figuratively. She’d wondered for a moment when he’d started off kind of rude, but he’d quickly walked back from that in a way that gave her hint more than a clue. So she’d brought out her flirt game, a bit heavier on the sultry than she’d intended, but he didn’t seem to be taking it the wrong way, like so many men did.

  His presence by her side and since he’d walked in the door caused a cocooning sensation that wrapped her in safety. Safety could be sexy, and it also made her want to know this man. Reports of him continued to prove misleading.

  He put away the last dish and faced her, smoothing his light lavender-pink dress shirt. She liked that he was secure enough to wear a color the boys she’d known in high school tended to put down as “unmanly.” Some men never grew out of that phase.

  “How much have you gotten to explore the town since you moved here?”

  She wondered how he knew when she’d moved here. Maybe he’d asked Mrs. G or someone about her the way she had about him. “Not much. I’ve barely been here two months.”

  “I know.”

  She shot him a raised brow with a quirk of her lips.

  “I mean...” He put up his hands, as if in surrender. “So, I asked my brother and Autumn about you.”

  She let her smile free. “And I asked Mrs. G about you.”

  “All good, I assume.” He winked and edged his hand across his collar.

  “I wouldn’t go as far as that...” She patted his chest in a quick move and walked away. Her hand tingled from the feel of his hard chest and his warmth. She needed to get a grip on herself. She couldn’t explain the draw to him, and common sense told her to slow down.

  His footsteps followed hers across the kitchen. His fingers grazed her arm and she turned to face him. Words suddenly failed her as his minty, coffee-laced breath washed over her. More than her hands were tingling now. She wanted him to kiss her, b
ut it was too soon. He met her questioning look and his gaze said it all: he also felt the connection between them. He also wanted to kiss her. But he was waiting for permission. She shook her head in a quick movement. Not yet.

  He stepped back, his fingers lingering on her arm. The warmth of his touch stayed and her sense of safety increased. Those rumors she’d heard were way off. Flint was a gentleman.

  “I...” He shook his head. “I apologize for the unwanted touch.” He still grinned, a bit sheepishly now, and his words rang with sincerity. No petulance in sight.

  A sense of lightness infused her torso. “Thank you.” His touch wasn’t unwanted, but she preferred to take the physical a bit slower than he seemed to be going. “Can we start with a hand hold?”

  His smile beamed brighter. “I’d like that.” He followed her lead as they donned coats.

  She locked up and faced the sunny day. Offering him her hand, she practically danced down the steps with him, their fingers intertwined.

  “How about a walk through the town first, and then we can grab sodas before the wedding? How do you feel about hand pies?”

  “If it’s pie, I will try.”

  “My kind of woman.” He squeezed her hand as they walked toward the river. He stopped on a path that followed the waterway into downtown. “I like you, Mandy. I want to get to know you better. How do you feel about that?”

  “Good. I want to get to know you better, too.” A cool breeze made her step closer to him. “Now, are you gonna show me this town?”

  He linked her arm in his. “‘We’re going on the town,’” he sang in a voice to rival Howard Keel’s.

  If she could swoon, she would. Instead, she leaned into him as they headed down the path, joining his song from the old Gene Kelly musical. “Can you dance too?” she asked as they reached Main Street.