Southern Spinster

by Cassie Mae

  Garreth’s lips were pursed, holding back his amusement at her fumbling around the room while an important part of the mystery was playing out. His smile made her smile, lit up her heart and brightened the room. Heavens, how she’d missed him. The day and a half without speaking to him felt like years, and she ached to joke around with him, watch his handsome mouth struggle to get words out, to feel him shake his nerves off and take the plunge into something he was afraid of.

  That man was the perfect blend of contradictions who made it easy to believe in fantasies. How in the world could she have hurt him like she had?

  The longer they stared at each other, the more their smiles faded—not entirely, but just enough for Maybelle to wonder if he was thinking the same things about her. She hoped he missed her, hoped he knew just how much he’d come to mean to her.

  A collective gasp fell across the room, chatter erupting and nearly pulling Maybelle’s attention away. A set of heels clacked against the floor, and Maybelle saw just enough to see Winter being pulled from the room, shouting acted curses at Alexis that ‘she’ll get that notebook and everyone will pay for this!’ or somethin’ like that. It ended in resounding applause, Alexis taking a bow with the actors. Maybelle clapped along, glancing at Garreth who lifted a shoulder with a grin, obviously not worried about taking credit for solving the mystery long before Alexis.

  The music picked back up along with the dancing and chatting. Maybelle took a deep breath, steeling herself, ready to be brave. She could ask him to dance, they could talk, she could reassure him that there was no competition where he was involved… but as soon as she’d taken a step, Alexis powered through the crowd and blocked her chances. Garreth was off onto the dance floor within a few short seconds, not a glance in her direction.

  She blinked, hot tears pricking the backs of her eyes. The lighthearted mood had slipped and been replaced with the unbearable sense of loss she was all too familiar with. Michael gave her a small smile before he left the room with the other actors, most likely to get ready for some kind of curtain call.

  With Maybelle leaving in the morning, she had no reason to sulk over what might have been this week. Garreth and Michael both lived hundreds of miles away from Alabama, and in the back of her mind, she knew that going in. But she also knew she’d been willing to uproot her life for any man who’d take her.

  Now with the job offer and the excitement that followed, she wasn’t so sure she was that person anymore.

  She found her brother, surprisingly not by the food, looking lonely and pitiful. She sidled up to him and nudged his elbow. He gave her a half smile before going back to his wallowing.

  “You ready for bed?” he asked after a minute. Maybelle was stuck in a trance, watching Garreth and Alexis. He was a great dancer, which was as surprising as it was attractive.

  She let out a sigh and nodded. With any luck, she’d have plenty of more nights like this one—dancing and laughing and wearing a gorgeous red carpet gown. Next time, she’d soak all of that in.

  Tonight, however, she allowed herself her own wallowing session of not getting to dance with a man she’d really wanted to.

  Maybelle stretched across the mattress, breathing in the softness and scents of the place before she had to leave in the morning. Her bags were already packed, set nicely near the door of her room, ready for Will to take to their car. She laughed to herself at her own joke. She’d help him out this time. Her excitement had kept her manners at bay when they’d arrived, but since Will would most likely be in need of a pity party, she’d do him a solid and carry her own luggage.

  A soft tap sounded through the room, and she wrinkled her nose and looked up from her pillow. She must be hearing things. The mansion was eerily quiet compared to the lively noise of Alabama, and Maybelle had on more than one occasion heard invisible people walking around.

  Well, that and the place is haunted. She had no doubt about that. She’d been seriously messed with over the five days spent in Frostville, and it had nothing to do with the murder mystery.

  Michael’s arms still felt strong and close as she lay in bed, but they didn’t feel… enough. But how could that be, when he was so obviously the choice for her? He wanted her, said so many times, and he was open to marriage and then the job opportunity lining up so they wouldn’t have states between them… Cupid was pointing her right to him, and him to her, and still, she wasn’t sure.

  Another tap filtered to her ears, and she growled at the ceiling, frustrated at the mansion’s way of keeping her awake with her thoughts. “Can I not get an hour of sleep, for pete’s sake?” she hissed in the dark. The mansion answered with another tap.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

  She huffed and twisted in her bed, snagging her pillow and getting ready to stuff it over her face when she heard a distinct whisper.

  “Maybelle?”

  She jerked up, searching the darkness, but couldn’t find anyone. That was Garreth; she knew it, and maybe her darn subconscious was working overtime.

  “Hello?” she asked. Will’s snores were rumbling in the next room, and she pricked her ears to hear over them.

  “Uh… it’s me. I’m at the door…”

  Her heart buzzed, jolting her from her in and out sleep. She scurried to the door of her suite, forgetting completely that she was in nothing but a silky slip. It wasn’t until she opened the door to Garreth and his eyes widened and face reddened that she remembered.

  “Uh…” He cleared his throat, meeting her eyes and smiling. “Hey there.”

  “Hey there.”

  He stood, saying nothing, shaking like an earthquake. Her heart sang at him just being at her door, at him making this move, no matter what he had to say to her. She loved when he broke through his nerves and did something bold. It helped her feel brave—and a bit humbled that she’d never had a problem with knocking on doors, proclaiming feelings, or striking up simple conversations.

  “Garreth?” she said after a few silent seconds.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  He shut his eyes, nodding. “Right, right. I just…” He took a steadying breath and looked at her, courage in his eyes. “I wanted to say something.”

  “Okay,” she said, bracing herself. She hoped he’d say he liked her, that he missed her these past two days, that he wanted to see her after this week. But she’d learned long ago that she shouldn’t hope for such impossible things.

  “I was an idiot,” he said, his words rushed, like he needed to get them out or he never would. “I should’ve known someone else would’ve been drawn to you. I mean, you’re Maybelle Monroe. You’re fun and exciting and you make people feel happy just by being around, and I’m sorry I overreacted the other night. It’s just that… it’s happened so many times. So many. I can’t fight a battle only to lose again.”

  “I get it, believe me—” she started, but he held his hand up.

  “Sorry, I just… I have to get this out or I’m not going to ever say it.”

  She zipped her lips and tossed the key. Unlike with so many other men, she enjoyed hearing every single word that came from him. Every awkward, stuttered, heartfelt word.

  “This week’s been a challenge for me, before I even got here. But, I don’t regret it. Meeting you, spending so much time with you, has all been worth it.”

  Her heart flew to the sky and her breath slipped away with it. She blinked, hope igniting somewhere beneath her skin. He didn’t look finished, and she held back how much she wanted to reciprocate.

  “But…” he started, and she held her breath. No buts! This was their moment, wasn’t it? This was the moment they’d tell their grandchildren someday.

  Geez, Maybelle, there you go again with your nonsense fantasies.

  “But…” she prodded. He gave her a nervous half smile.

  “But, I’d regret it if I left tomorrow without asking you this one thing.”

  Yes, yes…? She waited with bate
d breath, heart thumping in her ears. She scolded its pounding, hoping she could hear him over the racket.

  He took a deep breath, lifting his broad shoulders, and held out a hand. “Will you dance with me?”

  An unfiltered laugh spilled from her lips, and she quickly shut the door behind her so she didn’t wake Will. “We have no music,” she said, but she took his hand anyway, warmth spreading through her as his fingers laced with hers. It felt right again, whole, home. Her senses came alive every time his hand was around hers.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” he said, reeling her in. “But I’ve heard that people dance with no music all the time.”

  “No,” she gasped, grinning through the joke. His hand fell to her waist, slipping against the silk and wreaking havoc on the butterflies in her belly. The first turn turned her stomach and completed her fantasy of how she’d wanted this night to go.

  As awkward as he was with most everything else, that was how smooth a dancer he was. Garreth spun her, held her close, and looked at only her eyes. She may have felt desired in Michael’s arms, but she felt treasured in Garreth’s. It was a feeling she hadn’t yet experienced with any man before, and she worried she’d never want to be without it from that moment on.

  “I’m gonna admit to somethin’,” she said after a moment. Garreth’s grip tightened on her hand, and he nodded.

  “Be my guest.”

  She loved his comfort in dancing. It was like when he was mystery solving; it came naturally, and she wondered what other comforts he kept hidden beneath the surface, or if she could become one of them.

  “I came here lookin’ for a husband,” she said, her cheeks warming when his gorgeous mouth split open and let out the most genuine laughter in the world.

  “Stop laughing!” she hushed him with a playful slap to his shoulder, then leaned down to kiss it better. He gave her a giant grin when their eyes met. “I know,” she said, “it sounds absurd, but I was desperate.” She thought back to that night at her kitchen table, finding Frostville and its seeming answer to all her problems. A frown pulled at her mouth when she thought of Alabama and how no one and nothing was waiting for her down there. “It’s easy to believe in miracles when you’re so often overlooked.”

  Garreth shook his head, his hand tentative and soothing on the small of her back. “That still just baffles me. That anyone would overlook Bells Monroe.”

  “Or Garreth…” She paused, searching her brain but coming up short. “Oh shoot. I just realized… I have no clue what your last name is.”

  He let out another laugh, one that would wake Will if they weren’t careful. “Burk.”

  Maybelle Burk, she mused before silently scolding herself. She hadn’t even known it until now. How did she fall so fast yet again?

  “Goes to show how stupid I am,” she said. “Can’t know someone in a week, right?”

  He shrugged, tilting his head back and forth. “Maybe…”

  It killed her that he didn’t immediately elaborate. Did he think he knew her? It felt like he did, or that he knew enough, at least.

  “Go on,” she urged.

  “I think it takes years to truly know someone,” he said. “But to fall for someone? That can happen a lot quicker.” His dark eyes sparked. “Definitely within a week.”

  “You think so?”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Well… with my wife… it happened instantly.”

  Maybelle felt the air shift, but not necessarily in a bad way. She was touched he was so willing to talk about his previous experience with love. Perhaps that was a sign of being ready for a new one.

  She wouldn’t know, but she liked being a part of it.

  A small sigh floated out of her lips and she let her head fall to his shoulder. He moved their cadence to a slower, more relaxed beat, and he brought their hands close to his chest. His pulse pounded against her palm, and she memorized the feel, counted the beats, smiled against his cotton pajama shirt.

  “But yeah…” he said, his voice deep and low in her ear, “there are things you should know before you get married. Like if they want kids.”

  She chuckled softly with him. She’d thrown that question on the fire right away with Michael, but she hadn’t with him. She wasn’t sure why that was… the conversation never turned that corner, perhaps? But in his arms, she felt like she didn’t need to know. She didn’t want to. It may ruin things, like it had with Michael.

  “Do you…?” he whispered after a moment.

  “What’s that?”

  “Want kids?”

  She leaned back, looking into his eyes. They stopped dancing, the sound of nothing buzzing her ears. He’d wanted kids with his wife, but that was a long time ago. What if, like Michael, he’d reached the point in his life of acceptance?

  Something clicked in her brain. So what if he had? This was her decision, what she wanted, and he wanted to know. And even though she was thirty-six, hadn’t had any real relationships, and her career was creeping up on the priority scale, she couldn’t picture her life without children without feeling an overwhelming sense of loss.

  She looked him straight in the eye and smiled. “Absolutely.”

  His lips turned up, and he placed a shaking hand on the back of her head. He tucked her against his shoulder, breathing out a minty sigh.

  “Me too.”

  True to her word, Maybelle loaded up her last suitcase into the trunk of Will’s car, giving the mansion one last look before they drove off and left the chilly north for sunny south.

  Last night had been exactly what she’d been looking for, and she thanked Cupid for it. Garreth and her had danced in their pajamas, talked about life and love and loss, and they’d ended on a good note. If last night was all they’d have, she thought she would be okay with that. They’d both agreed that a week wasn’t enough time at all to get to know someone after all.

  Michael had been mysteriously absent this morning, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. The attention he gave her was flattering, made her feel worth more than she was, but she realized that she didn’t need someone to make her feel that way to be happy. It was nice, but she could find that happiness herself, she was sure of it. And she planned on finding more ways to find that joy without it revolving around things out of her control, like relationships with men.

  A car door slammed to her right, and her heart picked up pace as Garreth made his way toward her. Her mouth formed an uncontrollable smile, and she playfully swayed her hips as she walked toward him, meeting him in the middle.

  “Hey there,” he said, his attempt at her accent nearly spot on.

  “Hey there.”

  “How long a drive do you have in front of you?”

  “Too long,” she admitted with a laugh. “You?”

  “Not long enough. I like long drives. Gives me time to think, process…” He frowned, but she liked that he was near the mansion. Maybe there was a chance of meeting up if and when she came back to style for Winter.

  She glanced to the massive mansion doors, Winter perched on the bottom step, Will awkwardly running his hands up and down his thighs as he made his way to her. He’d better ask for her number.

  Oh, that reminded her. “So, do you—”

  “So, I wanted—”

  They both stopped their overlapping sentences and laughed. Maybelle waved him to go ahead.

  “I… Well, I wanted to thank you,” he said, his hand reaching for his elbow, scratching away. “I was dreading this week, but with you, it was fun.”

  She snorted. “Minus the part when you caught me with—”

  “Yeah.” His cheeks ran red, but then he shakily chuckled away his embarrassment. “Let’s just forget about that.”

  She frowned. She didn’t want to forget; she wanted to apologize, but the look on his face told her that bringing it up anymore would taint their goodbye, so she held her tongue.

  Garreth took a deep breath, his broad shoulders lifting and reminding her of how they felt unde
r her palms while they danced in the dark hallway of the fifth floor. She imagined she’d revisit that night a million times over.

  The corner of his mouth pulled up and he took a step toward her, his arms spread. She jumped right into them, hugging him tightly, memorizing his freshly showered smell, tumbling her fingers over the soft cotton of his shirt, and counting the beats of his heart, ingraining it into her brain.

  He held on for much longer than was socially acceptable for only friends, one hand curling around her shoulder, the other holding the small of her back, pressing it so their belly buttons aligned. Butterflies soared through her, but there was dread in their wake, of not knowing when she’d see him again—if she’d see him again.

  At the first sign of tears prickling, she pulled away, shoving them down as she smiled up into his beautiful face. She’d thought him handsome from day one, but getting to know that kind soul behind the deep chocolate eyes had made him so much more attractive, and she wondered for the thousandth time why he’d felt second best, when there was no way he could’ve been.

  “Well…” he said, scratching at a most likely non-existent itch again.

  “Well…” she echoed. How did she part with him? Tell him to keep in touch? Oh, she hadn’t gotten his number. She quickly patted her dress in search of her phone.

  He gave her a grin and sighed. “Have a good life, Maybelle.”

  She stopped her search and blinked at him. He was doing his classic pinch of the eyes and shake of the head, and she hoped he’d backtrack and not leave her with such a hard goodbye. But he only turned on his heel and sped walked to his car, mumbling something under his breath. Maybelle stared, hand still poised near her bosom where she kept her phone when her dresses came sans pockets. There was still time to get his number, try to stretch out their interactions beyond this magical week, but doubt rooted her to the cement.

  He’d told her he wasn’t going to compete for her heart, and maybe he’d let her go already. Last night had been a dance between friends, and her heart crumbled like grated cheese on one of her brother’s famous pizzas. She’d let it happen again. She’d fallen for someone indifferent to her. The only difference this go around was Garreth hadn’t been indifferent at first—only after she’d messed it up.