by Lori Wilde
To get the ATV rally in before it simply got too hot for such activities, Melody scheduled it first, attaching the races to the Cinco de Mayo weekend. Cinco de Mayo was a big holiday in South Texas and Ricardo’s restaurant was sure to be packed with visitors. The board members had brainstormed a name and voted to call the rally the Cupid Sand Fest.
For the weekend after Cinco de Mayo, she slated the masquerade stargazing party, reserving the McDonald Observatory for the private gathering and convincing Pierce Hollister to recruit the VIP celebrities as a draw for the event.
Finally, she scheduled the bachelor auction and the Sadie Hawkins dance for Memorial Day weekend. That Saturday also coincided with the annual Founder’s Day parade. The money raised by the auction was going to fund the expansion of Perfect Buddies Animal Shelter.
The night before the ATV rally, she was so keyed up that she woke at five A.M. Whenever she worked on ad campaigns, the closer the deadline loomed, the more problems she had with insomnia. Here, the stakes were even higher than with her career. The future of an entire town hung in the balance and they were counting on her to work miracles.
She was a bit worried about Luke’s team racing idea. The thought of using a random drawing to pair people up seemed risky. He was the one who was adamant about keeping the peace between Fants and Nielsons at all costs, rather than using the long-standing quarrel as an opportunity to both make money and open a dialogue in the community.
Wasn’t Luke concerned that the competitive streak inherent in any sport would only make things worse between the two camps? Then again, maybe the random drawing would end up being a good thing. A rousing fight could be the start to mending fences. Beefs were better resolved dragged out into the light, than continually swept under the rug. Just as long as no one got hurt.
And that was the kicker, wasn’t it? The Fant-Nielson feud already had too many casualties. It felt safer to ignore the hurt bubbling under the surface than to tackle it head-on. Which was why Luke’s idea of a random drawing was out of step with his stated mission of peacekeeping. Maybe this was his way of testing her theory.
Maybe the townsfolk were ready to let go of the Fant-Nielson feud and this could be a new beginning. The response she’d gotten from publishing Juliet’s letter on the town’s blog seemed to suggest that. Within twenty-four hours, two hundred and twenty-three readers had left comments, much more than she expected for her fledgling effort, and ninety percent of the comments agreed with Cupid’s reply to Modern Day Juliet. Letting her know that she was on track with her response that love and forgiveness were what mattered most.
It was a lovely sentiment, and even though she wanted to believe it was possible to mend the feud, she wasn’t counting on it. To that end, she’d hired muscle for Sand Fest in the form of Natalie’s husband, Dade, and his best friend, Red Daggett, both former Navy SEALs who’d started their own security firm.
Hmm, it was going to be an interesting day.
To burn off excess energy and calm down, she decided to take a quick jog. She donned white running shorts, put on a brand-new green T-shirt and her cross-trainers, and left the apartment.
As she jogged down the stairs, she couldn’t help glancing at the parking lot, illuminated by security lamps, in search of Luke’s vehicle. Had he spent the night at his condo since he had to be at Sand Fest so early in the morning?
Sure enough, there was his pickup truck. Her pulse quickened.
The first tendrils of sunlight were nothing more than vague wisps of orange brushing the edge of the sleepy navy blue night as she took off toward town. She’d forgotten how utterly peaceful it was at this hour, so quiet, cool, and serene. The complete opposite of New York City.
Surprisingly, that no longer seemed like such a bad thing. Over the past few weeks, she’d started remembering what she liked about small-town life. The quiet serenity offered respite to a world-weary New Yorker. The awe-inspiring landscape, a compelling mix of blue mountains and desert terrain. An interesting climate that could toast you hot in the day and send you shivering for a sweater in the night air. The town of Marfa, just a thirty-minute drive away, had a whole colony of Manhattan ex-pats. The way people truly relied on each other out here. They had to. They were so isolated. A strong community was their only option. In spite of the almost century-old grudge, the one way to get Fants and Nielsons to work in harmony was to have a natural disaster where they had to pull together.
As evidenced by Luke asking her to help save Cupid from the drought.
Maybe she and he could be the cornerstone of a new beginning for the town. It was a lovely thought.
She jogged the mile into town, ran past the botanical gardens. She had no sooner rounded the corner of the Bettingfield Livery Stables than a figure appeared from the shadows of the alley between the stables and the gardens.
“Eep!” she let out a terrified squeak and spurred into a sprint.
“Melody,” a familiar voice called out. “Don’t be afraid. It’s me.”
She put a hand to her throat, stopped, and whirled in the street to face him.
There was Luke. Wearing nothing but a pair of jogging shorts and Nikes.
Damn him. Couldn’t the man put on a shirt?
Her treacherous eyes zeroed in on the hard planes of his body, traced the honed ridges and lines. He did not carry one ounce of fat on his lean, muscular frame. Perspiration drenched his skin.
And she remembered, boy did she remember, exactly what it felt like to be underneath that man. And on top of him and in front of him and … and … Her mouth watered and she tasted salt as surely as if she’d licked his bare pecs.
“Mornin’,” he said, the dry heat instantly evaporating the moisture from his body.
“It’s not nice to pop out of an alley at someone. You just about gave me a heart attack.”
“This is Cupid, not Manhattan. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of.”
You. You’re the one who scares the crap out of me. Not wanting to lose momentum, she jogged in place. “I’m surprised you’re not getting ready for the rally. It starts at eight.”
“I could say the same thing about you.”
“I was feeling restless. Jogging calms me.”
“Same here.” He walked closer.
The sun was up enough now for her to make out the sprinkling of hairs on his chest. Her finger itched with the memory of what it felt like to skim through those wiry strands.
Luke lowered his eyelids, took her in with a long, lingering gaze. A fine bristling of beard stubbled his hard chin. “You look sensational.”
Her pulse fluttered at the hollow of her neck. Stupid pulse. She hoped he didn’t notice. “Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the condo and get ready for the rally.”
He didn’t move, just stood grinning as if she was a prize in his box of Cracker Jack. That’s when a terrier mixed-breed trotted from the alley and veered over to plop down at his feet.
“You’ve got a dog?” She slowed from jogging in place to shifting her weight from foot to foot.
“Nah, he’s just a running buddy. Lives over on First Street.”
The terrier licked Luke’s bare leg.
“Can I pet him?”
“I dunno. Can you?”
She reached down to scratch the dog behind the ears. The pup democratically transferred the love, licking the back of Melody’s hand. “Good boy,” she cooed.
She raised her head to find Luke studying her with lust on his face, and a sweet shiver went down her spine. Goose bumps. She pointed her feet toward the mountains. “Well, it’s been nice chatting with you—”
“Wait.”
Against her better judgment, she lingered.
“Let’s jog back together,” he proposed.
“What are you going to do about him?” She indicated the terrier.
“Digger, go home,” Luke commanded.
Digger trotted off.
“Now, whe
re were we?”
“Going our separate ways.”
“How are we going to do that? You’re jogging back to the condo. I’m jogging back to the condo. We’re headed in the same direction.”
She glanced around. “You could give me a ten-minute head start.”
“Why would I do that?”
“People might see us together.”
“So?”
“We don’t want to set tongues wagging.”
He took a step closer. “We don’t?”
“No. You’re the one who’s adamant about not stirring up the Fant-Nielson feud. Although if you don’t want to stir things up, why are you for planning a random lottery drawing for teams in the side-by-side race? Fants or Greenwoods could be teamed with Nielsons. It’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Call it an olive branch. It’s my way of dipping my toe into the turbulent waters to see if maybe your way will work.”
She canted her head. “Seems more than a toe-dip.”
“It’s not as bold a move as it sounds. Think about it. Only the Fants and Nielsons who are open to the possibility of team racing with each other will even enter the contest in the first place. And on the whole, Greenwoods are not as invested in the feud. They take the Fant side because they feel obligated. If we end up with a few Fants or Greenwoods paired with Nielsons and all goes well, it’s a starting place.”
“And it if doesn’t go well?”
“Then my point of view will have been vindicated and you’ll have to stop doing things like publishing that divisive letter you put up on the Web site.”
“You saw that, huh?”
“I’m the mayor. I know everything that goes on in this town.”
“So you know who Modern Day Juliet is?” She dared to hold his gaze.
“I have an inkling.” He didn’t blink.
“No kidding?” she challenged, juggling fire. Did he suspect what she was up to? Was he going to call her out on it?
“About the jogging,” he said. “Most people are still in bed. If we hurry we’ll miss the bulk of the busybodies.”
“Ha. In this town all it takes is one big-mouth busybody and everyone knows your business.”
“That would be the end of the world?” He leaned in closer and his masculine musk surrounded her.
“Yes, everyone would assume we were seeing each other.”
“And?”
“We’re not seeing each other.”
“I’m looking at you right now. And it seems you’re looking right back. I’m enjoying the view.” His rakish gaze slid down her body, lingered on her breasts before strolling back to her face. “How about you?”
“Which is why we can’t jog together.”
“You’ve got a ruthless streak, you know that, Ms. Spencer?”
“I prefer to think of it as coolly detached.” If he only knew how her hot and sticky body was singing, Merge, merge, merge.
“Detached, huh?”
Her stomach flopped over. “As a Zen monk.”
He took another step toward her. He was close enough to touch. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Believe what you want.” Jog away. Go. She stayed.
“C’mere.” He crooked a finger at her.
“What?”
“Lean in a minute.”
“Why?” She leaned away from him.
“Stubborn as ever. Always gotta do things your way.”
Yes. “Listen, I need to go.” She started to trot off, but he snagged her elbow, stopping her in mid-stride. Instant heat fled through her body and she wrenched her arm from his grasp.
“Easy,” he said in that smooth voice of his. “I’m not trying to manhandle you. There’s a price tag sticking out of your T-shirt. That’s all.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks burned. She ducked her head and reached around to feel for the tag.
“I’ll get it for you, Melly.” His fingers were on her neck, his touch sending provocative signals straight to her groin.
Closing her eyes, she willed herself not to tremble. She could not afford to let him know how much he affected her. It was hot enough around here without adding an accelerant to the bonfire.
She felt a tug on her T-shirt, heard the faint snap of the bit of plastic that held the tag in place.
“Got it.” He exhaled.
She turned to face him. He tucked the tag into the waistband of his shorts like he was a Chippendale dancer and it was a dollar bill, and the way he was looking at her made her want to strip those running shorts off him and press her body against the length of his hard ridges.
Stop drooling.
A gray Chevy Volt cruised up, Eloise sitting behind the wheel. She stopped, rolled down the window. “Morning, Melody.”
“Eloise.” Melody nodded, smiled.
“Luke,” Eloise said. “Might I have a word with you?”
Yay, an escape route. She took it. “See you at the Sand Fest, Mayor,” she said, and ran away as fast as she could.
LUKE WATCHED MELODY’S sweet little rump jog away and with a sigh, turned to Eloise. “What is it?”
“Get in.” She nodded at the passenger seat. “I’ll give you a ride.”
“The conversation is going to be that long?”
“It is.”
“Do we really have to have it?”
“You need to know what I think.”
“You know, Eloise, you’re not my mother.”
“No, she’s off living in Florida with her third husband, but I’m here. Get in.”
“Were you this bossy to Mayor Thornton?”
“I didn’t catch Mayor Thornton smoking cigarettes behind the barn with my son Kenny.”
“That was twenty years ago.”
Eloise waggled a finger. “And you’re still just as naughty.”
Luke got in and she drove off. They passed Melody on her way up the mountain. Eloise tooted the horn. She waved.
He turned to watch Melody toil up the hill, wished he was toiling with her.
“We could give her a ride.”
“She can’t be privy to our conversation. We’re going to be talking about her. Stop watching her boobs bounce.”
“How do you know I’m doing that?”
“You’re a healthy heterosexual male, aren’t you?”
“Last time I checked.”
“It was a rhetorical question.”
“So what’s up?”
“You apparently.”
Luke’s cheeks burned. “Eloise!”
“I finished setting up your random lottery.” She said the word “random” like it tasted bad.
“Thank you.”
“I’m not proud.”
“No, but you’re loyal. I appreciate you putting your ethics aside to do this for me.”
“Did I have a choice?”
“Sure. You could have told me to go butt a stump.”
“And then you would have just done it yourself.”
“I would have.”
“That would be usurping my job. I’m your assistant. That’s what I do. Assist.”
“If I killed someone, would you help me hide the body?” he teased.
“Don’t push your luck.”
“This is going to work.”
“I’m glad you’re so optimistic.”
“I’m also confident it’s eventually going to rain and when it does, if I don’t have her locked in, Melody is going to leave.”
“Are you sure you really want to go through with this?” Eloise asked.
“Is that why you’re here? To try to talk me out of it?”
“She’s just going to break your heart.”
“Probably.”
“It’s my duty as your surrogate mother to point that out.”
“Duly noted. Consider me sufficiently warned, Mom, and feel free to say ‘I told you so’ when it blows up in my face.”
“I’m not that gloaty, am I?”
He held out his palm, tilted
it back and forth in a balancing gesture that said it could go either way. Eloise was right on all accounts. Manipulating the lottery was an underhanded move and Melody was, most likely, going to break his heart.
“As long as you’re sure the potential reward is worth the risks,” she said.
“When a guy’s dream woman is within reach, he’s gotta try.”
Eloise pulled to a stop in front of his condo. “But would hooking up with Melody ultimately be a dream or a nightmare considering your families’ animosities for each other?”
That was the question.
Luke scouted around for any sight of Melody jogging up the mountain. No sign of her yet. He had to have her and that’s all there was to it. But with the dark past of the long-standing family feud, they had a long, rocky road ahead of them unless he could ease the relatives into the notion of union between the Nielsons and the Fants.
The rigged drawing was his first foray onto that particular battlefield. If that went well, he would take another tentative step and then another. Yeah, it’d take a while, but he was a patient man. He’d waited fifteen years for her, what were a few more weeks?
Because he had to convince her that happily-ever-after was a real possibility and the first step on that journey was to get her into his bed again.
After that, he’d worry about how to prove to her that she belonged here in Cupid right by his side.
Chapter 14
SAND FEST was held fifteen miles north of town. They’d had to go that far to find sand dunes land large enough to accommodate the event that neither a Fant nor a Nielson descendant, nor someone with allegiance to one party or the other, owned. Neutral ground. The only safe bet.
Melody stood at the registration tent, surveying the crowd and sizing things up.
Riders signed in at the registration table, while pickup trucks, pulling trailers loaded with all-terrain vehicles, drove through the entrance gates in a continuous stream. Some had arrived the night before, sleeping in motor homes and travel trailers parked to the side of the rally grounds.
Dads revved engines. Moms smeared sunscreens on their children. Teens were already zipping four-wheelers around the dunes, chasing each other and having a blast. Senior citizens found strategic spots to set out camp chairs and sheltering umbrellas.