Drive Me Wild

by Melanie Harlow

  “So what was the plan, you were just going to keep me stranded here until your feelings for me went away?”

  “I really didn’t think it through, Blair. All I knew was that I couldn’t let you go.”

  “But you did,” I reminded him, poking his chest.

  “I did. Because I freaked out. I thought I might have gotten you pregnant, and that triggered a real shit show in my head.”

  “I know. That was a scary moment, I agree.”

  “Then I freaked out because I’d never told anyone about the miscarriage, and there I was spilling my guts to you.”

  “I was glad you did,” I said softly, looking up at him. “It helped me understand you better. I don’t think you’re any less of a man for being sad over the loss, Griffin. I don’t think anyone would think that.”

  He was silent a moment, then he rolled onto his back. “You’re probably right. But it never felt like something I could talk about. Until you.”

  I threw an arm and leg over him and pressed my cheek to his warm, bare chest. “I know you’ll never be a talker like me. But no more hiding the big stuff, okay? That’s the only promise I’ll ask you to make.”

  “No hiding things? And I get my second chance?”

  “No hiding things. And you get your second chance.”

  “Then there’s something I need to show you.” He sat up, bringing me with him.

  “What is it?”

  He switched on the bedside lamp, got out of bed, and went over to his closet door. “I swear, this is the last thing I was hiding.”

  I gave him a strange look. “Okaaaay.” Then he opened the closet door, and I gasped. “My dress!”

  “I rescued it from the dumpster.”

  Scrambling out of bed, I went over and looked at it, all wrapped in dry cleaner plastic, looking as fresh as the day I’d bought it. “I don’t believe it!”

  “I remembered how you were wearing it the night we met. And how you said to me that you couldn’t let it go because it made you feel beautiful and hopeful. Like your life was just beginning.”

  My throat closed up, and my eyes filled. “That’s right.”

  He drew me into his arms. “I want you to feel that way again.”

  “I do.” I laughed, even as tears leaked from my eyes. “I honestly do.”

  “Good.” He lifted me off my feet and carried me back to the bed, turning off the lamp before stretching out above me. “Because I’ve gone and gotten my heart set on you, Blair Peacock Beaufort. And I come from a long line of men who are awfully stubborn once they get their hearts set on something.”

  I wrapped my arms and legs around him. “I’m so glad you were there that night, to catch me when I fell.”

  “I’ll always be there to catch you,” he whispered as his body began to move above mine in the dark. “In my arms is where you belong.”

  Twenty-Five

  One Year Later

  “Blair! You ready?”

  “One minute!” I hurried out of the bedroom and saw him standing at the top of the stairs, keys in his hands. “Sorry,” I said breathlessly. “This thing takes a minute to get on. Can you zip me up?”

  “I’m better at unzipping this dress, but sure.”

  I laughed, turning my back to him. When I was all zipped up in my strapless white gown, I faced him again. “I’m lucky this thing still fits. How do I look?”

  “Like a debutante ready for the ball—or at least a photo shoot.”

  “Is my tiara on straight?”

  He pretended a close assessment. “It’s perfect.”

  “Is my lipstick smudged?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good.” I looked him up and down, and my entire body tingled. “You look cute too.”

  He glowered at me. “You know how I feel about cute.”

  I laughed. “I can’t help it. The baseball uniform gets me. I know you weren’t actually wearing it the night we met, but I think for the photo shoot, it’s perfect.”

  The Bellamy Creek Gazette was running a series on how local couples had met and fallen in love, and Cheyenne had submitted our names and the details. The editor had gone crazy for the story of how I’d gotten myself stranded here after my car broke down and then fallen for the mechanic who fixed it. She especially loved the detail about my wardrobe, and how Griffin had caught me when I fainted. She wanted us to re-enact the scene.

  The only difference, besides putting Griffin in his Bulldogs jersey, was that she wanted the photos taken in a different location—rather than in front of the credit union, where it had actually happened, the editor wanted the photographer to snap us in front of the shop I’d just opened up: The Bellamy Creek Boulangerie.

  I’d cut the ribbon over the Fourth of July weekend, and business had boomed from the start. Betty’s apple pie was a huge draw, of course, but with Mr. Frankel’s blessing, I’d tweaked things here and there to make it my own. After tasting it, he told me Betty would have been proud. I also served all kinds of cakes and pastries, strata and quiche, rolls and doughnuts, muffins and scones, along with coffee, tea, fresh lemonade, and mimosas on weekends.

  Frannie and her family had come down for the ceremony, pushing their new babies in a double stroller—twin girls they’d named Audrey and Emmeline. It meant everything to me to have her there, since she’d been so supportive of me throughout the previous year.

  As promised, I’d stayed on at Coffee Darling throughout her entire pregnancy, taking over full-time while she was out on maternity leave. It hadn’t been easy, because at the same time, I’d been in the process of buying the old Main Street Bakery in Bellamy Creek, lining up the financing, designing and overseeing its renovations, and planning for a summer opening.

  It was exhausting—but Griffin had been my rock. We dated long-distance all through the fall and winter, trying never to go longer than a week without seeing each other, although it hadn’t been easy. The drives were rough, especially in bad weather, and Griffin always insisted on being the one to trek through the snow. He’d had to hire another mechanic to cover Saturdays so he could spend them with me.

  But he never once complained. He knew how important it was to me to establish myself independently, to work for myself, support myself, feel steady on my own two feet. He understood me, and I fell more in love with him for it every day.

  By springtime, we knew we couldn’t be apart any longer. After talking it over with him and asking Frannie’s advice, I made the decision to approach the older couple who owned the Main Street Bakery and offer to buy them out. They were thrilled with the idea, since they’d been wanting to retire to Florida for years and just needed the push to do it.

  I’d moved in with Griffin in May, and I’d never been happier. Glancing over at him as we drove to the shop, I felt a rush of affection and gratitude. I reached out and took his hand.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I’m just in love with you.”

  He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “I love you too.”

  “You must, since you agreed to this photo shoot. I know you hate being the center of attention.”

  “Well, you said it would be good for business. After what you did for mine, how could I refuse?”

  I smiled. Griffin had invested the loan Mr. Frankel had helped him get in tools, training, advertising, and more help at the garage, and it had paid off. Andy had the social media accounts up and running, and Darlene picked up baked goods from me every morning to serve in the lobby. Swifty Auto was still the bane of his existence, but it wasn’t the threat it had been before.

  Life was good.

  For now, we were still living above the garage, although we sometimes talked about the day when we’d be able to afford a house. Griffin wanted some land, I wanted a little more kitchen space, and both of us wanted a family, but we weren’t in any rush (much to Darlene’s dismay).

  We’d learned some things from each other over the last year. I’d learned not to ask so many questions
and let things unfold a little more naturally, and Griffin had learned to ease up on his need for control and to trust his feelings.

  “Looks like the photographer is there already,” I said as we pulled up in front of my bakery. As always, I had to pinch myself when I saw its black-and-white striped awning, the elegant script on the valance, the polished wood of the front door, the two little café tables in matching windows on either side of the entrance.

  Inside, the kitchen was full of light, and every morning I woke up excited to put on the coffee, get the ovens going, and greet smiling customers who left their homes to come taste what I created. It meant everything to me.

  It was hard to believe it was really mine—any of it, the shop, the man beside me every night, the love we shared, the life ahead, this place I called home, this hope in my heart.

  It was better than a fairy tale.

  “So you think we got the perfect shot?” I asked as Griffin pulled away from the shop.

  “Considering that she took at least a hundred pictures, I hope so. We can’t be that un-photogenic. Well, you can’t.”

  I took his hand. “That was fun, wasn’t it? I hope we get on the front page.”

  “Everyone will think we’re married again.”

  “Oh my God, remember that?” I laughed, recalling the way the rumor had spread. “As if that could have actually happened.”

  “People like a good story.”

  “Yes, they do. Hey, where are we going?” I asked when he drove past the garage without stopping.

  “I thought maybe we’d take a drive.”

  “Dressed like this?” I looked down at my gown.

  He shrugged and gave me a little sideways grin. “I have a surprise for you.”

  I gasped. “I love surprises!”

  “I know.”

  “Can I try to guess what it is?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “If you want to.”

  Craning my neck to look out the windows on all sides, I tried to figure out what direction we were headed in. “Are we going to your mom’s house for dinner?”

  Griffin grunted. “Do you know me at all?”

  I giggled as he got on the highway out of town. “Hmmm. The pond?”

  We sometimes took a picnic over to the pond for a date night, just like we had the first week I was here. Those evenings lying in the back of his ’55 Chevy under the stars were better than any I had ever spent dancing with millionaires in hotel ballrooms.

  “Nope,” he said.

  “Hmmm.” I tapped a finger on my chin, confused when he exited the highway, looped around, and got on again going the opposite direction. “Did you miss your turn or something?”

  “Did you know,” he said, “that tonight marks exactly one year since you blew that tire on Main Street?”

  I gasped. “Does it really? One year to the day?”

  “I checked the original invoice.”

  “You still have the original invoice?” My voice was high-pitched with excitement.

  “Of course I do.”

  “I don’t even think I ever saw it because you wouldn’t let me pay for the repairs.”

  “I didn’t want your money,” he said, pulling onto the highway shoulder. “I wanted something more.”

  My heart was pounding hard as he shut off the engine. “Griffin, what is this?”

  “Stay there.” He jumped out of the driver’s side and came around to me, pulling the door open and lifting me down, just like he had that first night. But this time, he kept his hands on my waist. “I didn’t know it then—in fact, I would have argued with anyone who tried to tell me—but I wanted you to change my life. We joke a lot about me rescuing you that night, but now I see it was the other way around.”

  I smiled up at him. “But I was the one with nowhere to go.”

  “You did have somewhere to go. But you followed your heart instead.”

  “Sort of.” Giggling, I lifted my shoulders. “I followed a sign, remember?”

  “I remember. And I hope you’ll follow it again.”

  For a second, I was even more confused. Then I looked beyond his shoulder, and I saw it—the billboard.

  My jaw dropped, and I sucked in my breath.

  It had once advertised the best apple pie in the Midwest since 1957, with a cartoon drawing of the pie and the diner’s logo. Now it had only four words on it:

  WILL YOU MARRY ME?

  Griffin got down on one knee and took a small ring box from his pocket, and I covered my mouth with both hands. My eyes blurred with tears.

  “That sign changed everything for me,” he said, his voice cracking. “I don’t know what my life would’ve been like if you hadn’t seen it.”

  “Or if I paid more attention to potholes,” I squeaked, my throat tight.

  “I will happily spend the rest of my days fixing all your blown tires if you’ll let me. And now, for once, it’s my turn to ask a question.” He opened the box, and a diamond winked at me in the light of the setting sun. “Blair Peacock Beaufort, will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” I shouted, jumping up and down, my tiara coming loose on my head. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  Grinning, he plucked the simple, classic solitaire from its satin cushion and slipped it on my finger. Then he rose to his feet and embraced me, lifting me right off my feet. I threw my arms around his neck and held on tight as happy tears dripped down my cheeks.

  When he finally set me down, I looked at the sign again and shook my head. “I just can’t believe it! Was Mr. Frankel in on this?”

  “Of course he was.”

  “Who else knew?”

  “Cheyenne, my mother, Althea Bond at the jewelry store, McIntyre, Cole and Mariah, Moretti and Beckett—”

  “Oh my God, you told everybody!”

  “I had a little trouble keeping it secret,” he admitted. “I was really excited.”

  “I can’t believe they all kept it from me!”

  Griffin shrugged. “Turns out, they can be trusted when it really counts.”

  My heart spilled over with joy, and I rose up on my toes to kiss him. “This is the best day ever.”

  He laughed. “You say that all the time.”

  “Because you keep giving me all the best days!”

  “This is only the beginning, Blair.” He kissed me, soft and sweet. “I promise you, the best is yet to come.”

  THE END

  Thank you so much for reading Blair and Griffin’s story! I hope you had as much fun taking their journey as I had writing it. If you didn’t get enough of them, sign up for my newsletter, and the first thing you’ll get is a Drive Me Wild bonus scene and recipe!

  Click here to sign up!

  Next up in the Bellamy Creek series is Cole and Cheyenne’s story, MAKE ME YOURS—it’s coming your way on November 23rd! In the meantime, bake some of Blair’s creations (recipes follow) and check out the Cloverleigh Farms Series, which begins with Frannie and Mack’s story, IRRESISTIBLE. This sweet and sexy single dad romance will have you swooning and smiling from cover to cover!

  Blueberry Lemon Thyme Scones

  Ingredients

  3 3/4 c. all-purpose flour

  2 tsp. salt

  2 Tbsp. baking powder

  1/2 c. sugar

  1 tsp. lemon zest

  1 pint blueberries

  2 1/2 c. cold heavy cream

  Glaze:

  1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves

  1 c. powdered sugar

  4 Tbsp. lemon juice

  1 tsp. lemon zest

  1) Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

  2) Mix together the flour, salt, baking powder, lemon zest and sugar.

  3) Add the blueberries and incorporate into dry ingredients so they are evenly distributed. Add the heavy cream and mix just until it comes together in the bowl.

  4) Turn dough over on table and fold a few times.

  Note from Blair: “I like to knead until the blueberries start to break up, resulting in a nice jammy scone.”


  5) Shape into a ball and pat down to form a 10" circle. Cut into 8 slices and place on parchment sheet. Make sure the scones have at least 1/2" separation between them. Bake at 375 degrees for about 20 minutes.

  Glaze: Mix all ingredients together and spread on scones once they have cooled.

  Lemon Lavender Shortbread

  Ingredients

  2 c. all-purpose flour

  1/2 tsp. salt

  1/2 lb. unsalted butter

  1/2 c. sugar

  1 tsp. vanilla

  2 tsp. lemon zest

  1 1/2 Tbsp. lemon juice

  1 Tbsp dried lavender

  1) Preheat oven to 300 degrees.

  2) Spray 8 or 9" round cake pan. Line bottom with parchment.

  3) Beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add vanilla, lemon zest, lemon juice, and lavender. Mix until well combined.

  4) Combine dry ingredients. Add flour mixture and mix just until combined. Spread mixture into prepared pan.

  5) Bake at 300 degrees for about 25 mins or until edges are golden.

  Glaze:

  1 c. powdered sugar

  2 Tbsp. unsalted butter at room temp

  1/8 c. lemon juice

  Beat ingredients until smooth.

  Once cooled, spread glaze over top and sprinkle with more dried lavender.

  Spinach, Caramelized Onion & Gruyère Galette

  Dough:

  1 1/4 c. all-purpose flour

  1/4 tsp. salt

  8 Tbsp. cold unsalted butter

  1/4 c. sour cream

  1 Tbsp. lemon juice

  1/4 c. ice water

  Put the flour and salt in a food processor and pulse in chunks of butter until it’s pea-sized. Combine cold water, sour cream and lemon juice in separate bowl. Add to flour mixture and pulse just until it comes together. Cover in plastic wrap and chill for an hour.