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1-800-CUPID_A Sweet Contemporary Romance Novella

Page 3

by Josie Riviera


  She retreated a step. “Tony’s Pizza on Main Street is always open. You can spot the red and green awning a mile away.”

  “Are you saying no, Candee?”

  “Is my refusal a deal breaker, Teddy?”

  “Not if I can get this property for under fifty thousand dollars.”

  “If you decide to bid, you’ll have to wait three weeks to find out if you’ve won.”

  His gaze lingered on her face. “Some things are worth waiting for.”

  Chapter Four

  Teddy’s cell phone buzzed on the nightstand in his hotel room. Awake anyway, he answered it and heard a recognizable woman’s voice.

  “Teddy?”

  “Yvonne?” He peered at the clock on the nightstand. “You realize it’s three a.m.?”

  “Are you awake?”

  He pushed a hand through his hair. “Should I be?”

  “It’s nine in the morning here in Madrid.”

  “I’m not in Spain,” he countered.

  “Such a shame you aren’t with me.” A long feminine sigh. “I’ll never get used to the time difference. Look, my network in the States wants me in Madrid another few weeks to cover the recent drought. Water levels in the reservoirs are abnormally low, and they’re aiming for a human-interest story to boost ratings and land a prime-time slot.”

  Teddy had met Yvonne—an attractive woman with honeyed skin, her thinly arched black brows offset by a pixie cut of platinum-blonde hair—when he’d been offered a weekly television segment featuring tidbits on flipping homes. His fifteen minutes of fame had lasted, well, fifteen minutes. His relationship with Yvonne was going on five months, although he hardly ever saw her. Her job involved a great deal of travel, and he wasn’t diligent about keeping in touch with her. He wasn’t adaptable to the ever-changing elasticity of dating a woman he saw only twice a month.

  He extended the expected congratulatory remarks. Compliments were a prerequisite when dating Yvonne Evette. She was a career woman bent on reaching the top, although what ‘the top’ was had yet to be determined. Currently, it meant an anchor position on a major American network.

  After good-byes, he clicked off his phone and shifted restlessly on his narrow bed. The previous morning when he’d arrived at the Roses Hotel and realized the four-star rating wasn’t accurate, he’d debated about sitting on the bed, much less lying on it. Still, he’d pulled back the bedspread, flopped down, and peered at a stain on the ceiling, trying not to ponder how it got there, for it certainly wasn’t a water stain.

  Now, in the darkened room, he punched a pillow and rolled onto his side.

  Night after night since his brother’s death, sleep had been elusive.

  That’s what happened when two brothers grew up together facing the shared futility of scarcity and endless beatings from their drug-addled father. Nothing was left of the Winchester heritage except the old Florida farm, the rundown homestead sitting on two acres of land at the end of a county road. And no matter how wealthy Teddy became, his roots were fixed in poverty.

  Fortunately, his brother Christian had held onto the farm after Christian’s wife died a year earlier, refurbishing the place and attempting to grow citrus fruit. The crops hadn’t produced one grapefruit, as far as Teddy knew. Neither he nor Christian had the knack for farming, and Christian had always struggled when it came to financial success.

  Lately, Teddy found himself talking to his late brother: Christian, should I do this, should I do that? I’m a bachelor. Am I the best choice as Joseph’s legal guardian?

  Christian had been an exemplary father. How was Teddy expected to fill those impressive shoes? Perhaps he should marry, he pondered, providing a stable home for Joseph as his brother had done.

  Turning onto his back and linking his hands behind his head he thought about Yvonne—her suggestive words, her open invitations, her sultry voice. However, he didn’t want Yvonne. His mind traveled instead to Miss Candee Contando, the beautiful realtor with the creamy complexion, a mass of red hair framing her face and long legs that went on forever.

  Her realty skills were non-existent. When he’d pressed her for details about any property under fifty thousand, she’d hesitated for a lengthy spell before answering. When they’d stood together and stared at the Victorian, he’d had to fight down the impulse to kiss her while holding her hand. She was gorgeous and witty, with a cool no-nonsense façade. And somehow, he knew she’d require a sizeable amount of convincing to date him.

  He didn’t know the reason for his next decision. He only knew he wanted to see her again.

  He’d visit her office first thing Monday morning with some excuse, and then invite her to lunch. Perhaps he’d bid on the property with her assistance.

  Envisioning Candee’s beautiful face, he drifted off to sleep.

  “Pizza?” Desiree repeated. “The guy’s taking you out for pizza?”

  Candee smoothed the collar of her royal-blue silk blouse. She wore an outfit appropriate for dinner at the fancy country club her sister belonged to—the silk blouse and a black pencil skirt, and black stilettos.

  “If you recall,” she said, “I’m not going.”

  “Was he bald?”

  Candee sipped her water. “No. His hair is dark and wavy.”

  “Short?”

  “Wrong again. He’s at least six feet tall. If anything, he’s exceptionally handsome.” Her heart gave a peculiar little pitch as she remembered his outrageous smile when he’d asked if she wanted to join him in the basement.

  “Married?”

  “No, although he talked about his nephew.”

  Desiree reached for her crystal wineglass filled with a local red wine. “Rich?”

  “I checked his business listing on the Internet. R and T Realty in Miami is legit.”

  A teasing smile tilted Desiree’s lips. “Then why would you refuse his offer to go out for pizza?”

  Because all her energies were focused on the Victorian house, Candee wanted to say. Because she wasn’t ready for a relationship.

  “Because he’s placing a bid on the Langrone mansion so he can tear it down,” she responded aloud.

  Desiree beckoned to a waiter who immediately splashed more water into the women’s glasses. “Has he lost his mind like you have?”

  Candee assessed her perfectly coiffed sister. Desiree was her usual stunning self, her blonde hair caught at the crown of her head with a glittering rhinestone fastener.

  Forking a piece of lettuce, she replied, “Perhaps that’s how these high-roller investor types go about flips.”

  “Once the house is torn down, what’s he going to do with a vacant five-acre lot?”

  “He didn’t explain.” Candee pushed her half-eaten meal of salad, grilled salmon and roasted red potatoes aside. “Who spends thousands of dollars to tear down a beautiful piece of property which should be preserved, not destroyed?”

  Desiree finished her wine and set her glass to the side. “His reasons might be good ones.”

  “Well, he won’t have the opportunity to tell me. I won’t be seeing him again.”

  “Give him a chance. He sounds utterly gorgeous. Call him.”

  Candee leaned back and crossed her arms. “I’ve never called a guy in my life.”

  “Your life, your decision.” Desiree’s gaze traveled through the expansive dining room. “Did I mention the club is having a Valentine’s Day silent auction and dinner dance? I remember how beautifully you helped me decorate the dining room two years ago. We filled champagne glasses with candy hearts—and the chocolate fondue was fabulous!”

  Candee faked a glibness she didn’t feel. “You’re referring to the night my ex walked out on me for another woman.”

  “You’ll be happier if you don’t dwell on the past,” Desiree said. “Besides, you’d discussed ending your relationship with George two months before the actual breakup. Focus on what’s ahead and let the past stay where it belongs.”

  Before Candee could answer, Desiree
trilled a giggle and waved. “Scott’s here, the man who took me out last night.”

  Candee peered over her shoulder. “The guy with the blond crewcut sitting alone at a table near the bar?”

  “Yes. I mentioned we were eating here tonight, and he said he might join us for dessert, and then we discussed he might bring a friend … umm … for you. The friend’s name is Allen Allen.”

  “You planned to set me up on a blind date?” Candee half-stood. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “What’s wrong with meeting a man for coffee and dessert? Maybe we can double date for the Valentine dance.”

  “The dance I’m not attending,” Candee reminded.

  Desiree peered in Scott’s direction. “I don’t see anyone with him.” She frowned, then pulled her vibrating cell phone from her handbag. She flashed Scott a smile and read his text aloud. “Allen heard the weather might take a turn for the worse, so he decided not to come.”

  “The guy’s name really is Allen Allen?”

  “He practices law in a neighboring town. He and Scott went to school together.”

  Candee was no longer listening. She was peering out the nearest window, assessing the weather. The earlier light drizzle was turning to sleet, and she thought it prudent to leave sooner rather than later. Within a few minutes she was pulling on her jacket, a faux fur capelet, and Desiree was sharing Scott’s table with him.

  As Candee prepared to exit, she walked straight into a tall attractive man wearing navy pants, a striped polo shirt, and a gray sport coat.

  “Candee? What are you doing here?” Teddy’s gaze slid slowly up her, from her stilettos and slim-fitting skirt to her silk blouse, finally stopping at her face.

  She fingered her gold cross earrings. “May I ask you the same question?”

  “My partner has a reciprocal agreement with private clubs around the country. Since you refused my pizza offer last night …” He gave an appreciative male smile. “You know, you’re a knockout when you’re all dressed up.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks. “Thanks for the … compliment?”

  “I mean, you’re a beautiful woman whether you’re wearing jeans or—”

  Now the flush warmed her ears. “Well, thanks again. I was just leaving.”

  “Me too. I ordered takeout food and forgot forks.” He flourished a bag with the country club’s logo as proof, then glanced out the window by the front door. “Roses certainly has unpredictable weather.”

  “It’s not usually like this.” She attempted to brush past him. “Whereas Florida’s weather is predictably hot and sunny.”

  “Especially Miami.” He grinned. “Where are you parked?”

  “I came with my sister, Desiree, who’s ditched me. She prefers to drink coffee with her latest conquest, a new lawyer at her firm.” Candee glanced over her shoulder at the bar area. Desiree was watching her, and she grinned and offered a thumbs-up.

  Candee didn’t respond, turning back to Teddy. “She and her newest conquest had planned a blind date for me, although Allen Allen, another lawyer, decided I wasn’t worth the effort of driving in bad weather.”

  Teddy’s dark eyebrows quirked. “This guy’s first and last name are the same?”

  “Yes.” She surprised herself by adding, “It would have been my first date in two years, although I would’ve refused.”

  “His loss is my gain. I’ll take you home.”

  Absolutely not.

  “No, no.” Candee shook her head while securing her capelet. “I planned to call a taxi.”

  Teddy gestured toward his pickup truck. “I’m parked at the curb. And your vocabulary might improve if you substituted yes for no once in a while.”

  “I can’t. Really—”

  “Say yes.”

  No use in arguing with him. His references had checked out and he wasn’t a total stranger. She smiled. “All right. I don’t live far from here.”

  “Much better.”

  With his hand on her elbow, he guided her outside to his truck, opening the passenger door and helping her up and in. Her tight skirt didn’t allow for much climbing, and she shifted into the seat, hoping her skirt wouldn’t ride up her thighs.

  It did, judging from his appreciative smile, he noticed.

  “My address is 121 Juniper Street,” she said, after she’d adjusted her skirt to a more proper length.

  “I’ll plug it into my cell phone.”

  She glanced at his profile as he slid into the driver’s seat. Way too attractive, she thought, in a roguish way.

  “What about your silverware for the takeout?” she asked.

  He flashed a boyish grin, displaying even white teeth. “The club’s signature hamburger can be eaten with human fingers, and there’s a supply of paper napkins in my truck’s glove compartment.”

  “You’re well-equipped.”

  For a fleeting second, his gaze turned somber. “I try, although sometimes life throws some unexpected curves.”

  At close range, she noted a scar below his right eye. It certainly didn’t affect his good looks, but she wondered if it indicated some of those unexpected curves life had thrown at him.

  Chapter Five

  The sleet came faster, making visibility difficult. Still, Teddy seemed to recognize where they were as they neared the turn-off for Thompson Lane.

  “You know the code for the lockbox, right?” Teddy asked.

  “Yes, I have it memorized,” she said.

  “Mind if we stop there first? I’d meant to check the water heater yesterday. In the excitement of falling through the floor, I forgot.”

  She caught her lower lip with her teeth to stop from blurting out. He wanted to see her Victorian again?

  “The weather—” She gestured theatrically to the icy roads.

  “I have 4-wheel drive.”

  “Did you offer me a ride tonight in order to get into the house again?”

  He slowed the truck, studying her for a couple heartbeats, and she attributed his silence to his interest in the Victorian. “I had no idea you were dining at the country club this evening,” he said.

  There was enough truth in his statement to make her cheeks burn. Still, she persisted. “But when you did, you seized the opportunity.”

  He offered a disarming chuckle. “Perhaps that was my second thought.”

  She couldn’t help a reciprocal grin. Truly, the guy was impossible. “And what was your first thought?”

  He glanced at her, and for a moment, she was caught in the spell of his irresistible dark eyes. “How lucky I was to see you twice in two days,” he said softly.

  A faint smile touched her mouth. She stared out the windshield at the falling sleet, trying to decide if he was harmlessly flirting with her or telling the truth.

  “There’s no electricity at the house, Teddy. It will be freezing and dark.”

  “There’s a gas fireplace in the living room. I called the gas company this morning. The meter is running as the gas was never switched off.” The truck slid on the slick road. He reduced his speed again, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the taillights ahead of them. “And I keep extra flashlights and candles in my truck.”

  “Are you always prepared, regardless of the circumstances?”

  His lips twitched. “I try to think of everything.”

  When they reached the circular driveway, he inched his truck along it and slid to a stop. At night, the Victorian loomed majestic and mammoth, set against the stormy winter sky. She imagined smoke curling from all five chimneys, the welcoming fireplaces blazing in the enormous hearths.

  “This house is a proverbial jewel in the rough,” she murmured.

  “Yes, it is.” Teddy’s expression softened. He got out of the truck, hoisted a knapsack over his shoulders, and then opened the passenger door for her.

  “I could get used to this,” she said.

  He assisted her out of the truck and took her hand. “Used to what?”

  “Being treated like a lady.


  He blinked. “Is there any other way to treat a woman?”

  Unfortunately, yes, there were plenty of other ways.

  She drew in a sharp breath, remembering the verbal abuse she’d suffered with George. How he’d yell to silence her when she didn’t agree with him; his chiding, “Come on, can’t you take a joke, Candee?” after he’d made fun of her cooking, or her clothes, or her mannerisms. Their relationship had sent her into a tailspin of self-doubt and self-preservation.

  Teddy interrupted her musings. “Shall I carry you up the stairs and over the threshold?”

  “I can walk perfectly fine on my own.”

  She took one step and skated forward.

  He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Just in case, I’ll keep you steady.”

  “Stilettos weren’t made for walking,” she joked, accepting his embrace and leaning into his solid chest as her heels crunched along the crusty ice.

  He chuckled. “I’m not complaining.”

  They walked to the house under an onslaught of bone-chilling, wind-blown sleet.

  Teddy was proving to be a gentleman, she mused, holding her securely and concerned about her welfare, in a fast-paced era where common courtesies were oftentimes forgotten. Gratefully, she smiled up at him.

  When they reached the porch, she punched the code into the lockbox, extracted the key and unlocked the door.

  He flicked on his phone flashlight and steered them to the living room. “I’ll get the gas fireplace running and then we’ll have dinner.” He pulled a blanket from his knapsack and set it on the floor, gesturing her to sit. Then he placed his gray sport coat beside her.

  “You can’t light the fireplace and you shouldn’t eat in here. The bank owns the house—we don’t.” She removed her capelet and installed herself on the blanket with her legs straight out, her tight black skirt tucked securely around them. “There are laws, Teddy …”

  “If anyone asks, you’re my realtor and I’m the man buying the house.”

  “And as your realtor, may I remind you that you’re making a mistake by even thinking about purchasing a home in such poor shape? This isn’t a wise investment for a house-flipper.”

 

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