by Lori Wilde
“I didn’t,” she denied, and thought about deception and sticky webs woven.
“I could have sworn I saw you slip one into the slot.”
“Not me.” She shrugged, tried to ignore her racing heart.
“You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I saw a letter in your hand.”
“You might want to get your eyes checked. I have zero interest in writing letters to Cupid.”
“So there’s no old lost love you want to reclaim?” he teased.
“Nope.”
“If you didn’t just mail a letter then why are you standing beside the letterbox looking guilty?”
“I do not look guilty.” Her stomach contracted. Forget that. She went on the offensive, answering a question with a question. “What are you doing here?”
He stared at her for a long moment, before his hot gaze flicked low to take her in with a leisurely eye stroll. She suppressed a shudder, wishing she wore a down ski suit instead of white capri pants, sandals, and a lavender paisley-patterned handkerchief halter top. Melody concentrated on not breathing so he couldn’t watch her breasts sliding up and down, but she couldn’t hold out for long. Finally, she breathed in a gulp of air.
His eyes darkened. “Maybe I’m here to ask Cupid’s help with my love life.”
She snorted. “Praying that you don’t catch herpes?”
“Ouch.” Playfully, he clutched the left side of his chest. “Stab me through the heart, why don’t you?”
“You have to have a heart to get stabbed in it.”
“You’re saying I’m heartless?”
“I’m saying you wouldn’t know real love if it bit you in the butt.”
He raised an eyebrow, one side of his mouth quirking up in a sardonic expression. “And you would?”
Honestly? No. Her workaholic tendencies saved her from that fate. “More so than you.”
“Because you volunteer for the committee that answers the letters to Cupid?”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“Are you making fun of me?”
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Why so sensitive?”
“Who says I’m sensitive?”
“Okay, insecure. Like that better?”
She bristled. “I’m neither sensitive nor insecure.”
“And yet you’re calling me out on love.” He canted his head.
Damn, why did he have to be so gorgeous? “Why are we talking about this?”
“Because we’re in a garden in moonlight. Sounds almost biblical. Can you imagine Adam and Eve’s conversations?”
“I see no point in doing that.”
“Really?” He gave her The Look, and doffed his Stetson.
That patented expression had made her weak-kneed in ninth grade. The one he’d no doubt perfected in the crib and was at least partially responsible for the hordes of women who threw themselves at his feet on a daily basis. The Look was part come-hither, part I’ve-got-eyes-only-for-you, and most potently of all, I’m-such-a-bad-boy-in-bed-when-I-make-love-to you-you’ll-know-you’ve-been-well-and-truly-fu—
It wasn’t an idle promise. She’d been to bed with him. He could back up that smile. Stop thinking like this!
“No secret Garden of Eden fantasies?”
“Nope,” she fibbed.
He leaned in and set a tripwire of goose bumps detonating over her skin. “I’ve come a lot closer to love than you have.”
“Uh-huh.” She backed up a step, shook her head. “Sure you have.”
“Well, maybe I haven’t so far, but I want to.”
A short bark of laughter shot from her lips. “That’s rich.”
“What?” he said. “You sound skeptical. I’m serious.”
“Since when have you ever been hard up for love? You can have any woman you want.”
He closed the gap she’d created between them, narrowed his eyes. The moon shone down, bathing his blond hair in a gossamer glimmer.
Her pulse revved. Involuntarily, she placed a palm over her chest. Seriously? You’re letting him affect you that much?
“Not any woman,” he murmured.
She hardened her chin. “What would your girlfriend say about that?”
He looked puzzled. “What girlfriend?”
“You had lipstick on your neck at the board meeting this morning and hay all over your clothes. I just assumed she was your girlfriend.”
“Oh that.” His eyes twinkled. “You’ve been going around thinking I had a girlfriend? No wonder you’ve been standoffish. It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t owe me any explanation. We’re not dating.”
“The lipstick smear came from Carly’s daughter, Haley. That little girl is a pistol. She’s three going on thirty. Carly and her family were in town, visiting from Marfa. Haley got into her mother’s makeup, realized she was going to get a scolding, and hid out in the hayloft. Uncle Luke volunteered to coax her down.”
She could see him crawling into a hayloft, convincing a little girl she wasn’t in trouble and to come on out. Her insides went all gooey at the image. The lipstick had come from his niece. She couldn’t help smiling. “Really?”
“What?” He pretended to be offended. “You thought I was bedding you one week and a week later going at it with someone new?”
“I’ve heard the talk around town. You do have a reputation as a ladies’ man. It was not an illogical assumption.”
He leveled her a hot look. “I’ve enjoyed being a bachelor, no doubt about it, but when I’m with a woman, I’m with her. Got it?”
“Why should I care?” Dammit, why did her voice have to sound so reedy, needy? “We’re not together.”
“We could be.”
“A lot of things could be. For instance the government could do away with the IRS.”
“Creative way of saying it’s never going to happen?”
“We’ve had this discussion already.”
“Hey.” He spread his palms wide. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Well, I could, but it’s not going to stop you, is it?”
“Probably not.”
What did he mean by that? Melody straightened, put starch in her spine. “Good luck with your love quest.”
She turned to go. He moved quickly, blocking her path. In spite of his blondness, he looked dark and edgy.
“What do you want, Mayor?” Her heart skipped a beat—or three.
“You know.”
She moistened her lips. “Not gonna happen.”
“Why not?” he asked cheerfully. “Do you remember the time—”
“Nope,” she cut him off. If her old boss could see her now, he’d be impressed at how easily she dispensed with the truth.
“Under the bleachers—”
“Wasn’t me.”
“I could have sworn it was you.”
“You’ve had so many girlfriends, it’s no wonder you can’t keep them all straight.”
“Is that why you pulled the plug on us? You were worried about all the women I’ve been with? I always use a condom, I swear, and I get a medical checkup once a year.”
A faraway look came into his eyes. What was he thinking? She gulped and drew in air but couldn’t seem to fill up her lungs. “You never did answer my question. What are you doing here?”
“Taking a walk, just like you.”
“Have you been stalking me again?” she teased.
“I saw your car was still parked in the Chamber of Commerce parking lot. I wanted to apologize about this morning. I acted like a jerk, plus there was something else I wanted to discuss with you. So I walked over from the courthouse, but you weren’t there. I was headed back to my car when I saw you going into the gardens.”
“Luke,” she whispered, turned away. “Please.”
He took her elbow, turned her back to face him, dropped his Stetson to the ground, rested his forehead on hers. “Please what?”
“Melly.” He pressed his lips to the smooth spot between her eyebrows.
She wrenched away from him, rushed for the exit. “I have to go.”
“Wait,” he said, coming after her. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”
She didn’t wait. In fact, it was all she could do not to run. He took two long-legged strides, caught up with her, fell into step beside her.
“Really,” she said. “I have no need for an escort. As you’ve pointed out to me before, this is Cupid, not New York City. Safe as can be.”
“That’s not entirely true. There’s javelinas and mountain lions and—”
“Lions and tigers and bears, oh my. I’m a big girl, Luke. I can take care of myself.” But even as she said it, she couldn’t help feeling safer just having him beside her. She was afraid of those little javelina suckers.
“Uh-huh,” he said.
Terrific. What now? She couldn’t think of a thing to say. Only the sound of their footsteps on the soft asphalt punctuated the quiet. Finally, she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“What was it you wanted to discuss with me?”
He stopped in front of La Hacienda Grill; the restaurant lay empty, but the air was still thick with the smell of enchilada sauce. She stopped too, caught sight of their twin reflections in the window. He towered a good five inches over her five-foot-seven stature.
“This.”
“Wha—” Before she realized what he intended, Luke pulled her into his arms, tipped her backward, and kissed her.
Chapter 13
AFTER the kiss, Luke had been the one to walk away.
How rude was that?
She’d been resisting him and resisting him, but then after he’d taken her lips by force, he stopped abruptly, readjusted his Stetson, and left her standing there on Main Street without another word.
Okay. Fine. He’d gotten his point across. She knew exactly what she was missing. Her life would be thinner for it, but oh well, such was the way of the world.
“Melody?” Her mother’s voice broke through her reverie.
It was noon on Wednesday. She had walked into the community center and plunked down in her customary seat without even greeting anyone. That’s how befuddled he’d left her. “Yes, Mother?”
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She smiled perkily.
Her mother eyed her suspiciously, but didn’t say anything else as she reached for the bag of letters and upended it in the middle of the table.
Melody straightened. Her letter was easy to spot in the red silk envelope, which was why she used it, of course. She reached for the letter. “I’ll get us started.”
Her mother gave her a strange look because Carol Ann was always the one who got things under way and kept everyone on task.
Melody bit down on the inside of her cheek. By taking the lead, was she giving herself away? Quickly, she put the letter back. “Just trying to help.”
“No, go ahead,” her mother said. “It’s nice to have someone else get us started for once.”
“Before we start, there’s something I wanted to speak to you guys about.” Melody toyed with the envelope, tapping first one edge and then another against the table.
“What’s that?”
Melody paused, looked around at the group, and prayed she wasn’t going to sound as obvious as she feared. “I’m planning on starting several social media sites for the town of Cupid.”
“You mean MyFace or SpaceBook or whatever it’s called?” Great-Aunt Delia asked.
Lace chuckled. “It’s MySpace and Facebook.”
Great-Aunt Delia waved a hand. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, Auntie, like that. Anyway, I was thinking about what you said about Grandma Rose coming up with the idea of putting the letterbox in the garden during tough economic times and how it really increased tourist revenue. What do you all think about doing the modern-day version of that by putting the letters on Facebook or a Web site blog about Cupid?” Melody proposed.
“We talked about using the Internet before to answer the letters,” her mother said, “but remember we decided against it because of the manpower that would require, and it would reduce tourism if people didn’t have to come to Cupid to post their letters here in order to have them answered.”
“Oh, I’m not suggesting we change that policy.” Melody ran a fingernail under the flap of the red envelope. “Just that we pick a few select letters to feature every week. The ones we think have the most universal appeal and post the answers. Just to get a wider audience.”
“It sounds all right to me,” Great-Aunt Delia said. “What do you girls think?”
“I say let’s get behind anything that can boost tourism.” Lace bobbed her head.
The rest of the group nodded. Everyone seemed to be of the same opinion, including her mother, who added, “Who’s going to be in charge of that?”
“I vote Melody,” Great-Aunt Delia said. “It was her idea and she’s the one who’s going to set up the Face thingy.”
“What about when she leaves?” her mother asked. “Who’s going to handle it then?”
Melody cocked her head. “You know, I can still handle that from afar. You guys pick the letters you want to feature and e-mail them to me. I’ll put them up on the Web site. It wouldn’t take much time at all.”
“Perfect,” Great-Aunt Delia exclaimed. “All in favor of Melody picking and posting the letters online raise their hands.”
It was unanimous.
Melody suppressed a smile. Her plan was working out perfectly. She took the letter from the envelope, unfolded it, and read the letter she’d dropped in the letterbox the night before.
“Gosh,” Lace said. “That letter could have been written by you, Melody, fifteen years ago, before—”
“We all know what happened.” Her mother pursed her lips. “No sense in dragging up the past.”
“But the letter has universal appeal,” Melody said. “It’s just the kind of letter I’d be interested in featuring. Lovers torn asunder by a family feud.”
“Well,” Lace said. “You’re the expert. What is your response to Modern Day Juliet going to be?”
“I’d like to hear that.” Great-Aunt Delia took a sip of her iced tea and gave Melody an appraising stare. “Are you going to tell her that love is worth any cost? Even the risk of losing your family over it?”
Melody met her great-aunt’s eyes. “I’m going to think it over carefully, but I’m probably going to tell her that if your family truly loves you, they will accept the man you choose, no matter what his bloodline.”
“HAVE YOU SEEN this bullshit?” His father carried his laptop computer into the barn where Luke was shoeing his hardest-working quarter horses.
Luke raised his head from where he was bent over the horse’s back hoof. “What is it, Dad?”
“Your little girlfriend’s got a Web site set up about the town of Cupid.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, Dad, and I think a Web site is a great idea. Don’t know why someone around here didn’t think of that sooner.” Luke tossed aside his tools, stretched out his back.
“Yeah? Well, she looks to be airing your dirty laundry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Here.” His father thrust the laptop at him. “See for yourself.”
Blowing out his breath and hanging on to his patience, Luke accepted the laptop, squinted against the sunlight’s glare off the screen. He didn’t see what his father was talking about at first. The Web site was pretty. There was a snapshot of Cupid in more prosperous days, before the drought. It looked lively, inviting. The way Luke thought of his hometown.
“I think she did a good job with it,” Luke said. “I
don’t see what you’re complaining about.”
“That letter.” His father leaned over his shoulder to tap the screen. “On the blog.”
Luke clicked the tab for the blog. Read Melody’s announcement about the Cupid legend and how each week they would be featuring one of the letters to Cupid on the town blog. Okay. No biggie. Might be a good idea.
And then he read the letter from Modern Day Juliet.
“See now?” His dad elbowed him in the ribs. “See what I’m talking about. This letter is about you and Melody.”
“No it’s not. This was written recently, by some local young woman,” Luke said, but an uneasy feeling nagged at him. Melody wouldn’t write a fake letter, would she? Not after she promised to stay away from the family feud. But by publishing the letter, she was stirring things up anyway. She could have picked any of the hundreds of letters written to Cupid every week, and yet she’d chosen this one. She was pushing her agenda, no doubt about it.
“That’s worse,” his father said. “That means the feud is gearing up again with a whole new generation.”
His father was right. That’s exactly what it meant.
Luke pulled a palm down his face. Part of him wanted to storm into Melody’s office and demand to know what in the hell she was thinking. Another part of him wanted to call a town hall meeting and put everyone on notice. He was not going to put up with any kind of feud-related crap. But his gut told him to stay his course. Keep quiet for now. Making a big deal out of the letter was only bound to feed the flames of hostility. He would watch things closely, but stand back and to see if it burned itself out.
And it probably would.
Just as long as Melody didn’t keep kindling the embers.
OVER THE COURSE of the next three weeks, Melody worked overtime to set up a series of events that would hopefully bring tourists back to Cupid, and for the most part, she managed to do it all while avoiding being alone with Luke. Since he rarely went to the Chamber of Commerce except for the weekly board meetings and she worked out of the condo a lot, they ran into each other only a couple of times. And she almost convinced herself they really could work together without sexual attraction tripping them up.
Besides the Web site and blog she set up for the town, she also created a Facebook page for Cupid, a Twitter account, and a YouTube channel. Then she recruited students from Sul Ross to film the upcoming events and run the social media sites.