by Jane Porter
“Lots of ice. Probably not the best day to be running.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“It was that or run stairs at the high school stadium, and those can be icy as well, so I figured I’d stick with the river trail.”
“In winter, wouldn’t running on a treadmill be safer?”
“Maybe, but it’d also be boring. I’ve never been a fan of hot, sweaty gyms.”
“I think you’re thinking of saunas,” he deadpanned.
Amanda laughed out loud, and he grinned, pleased by her response. “That was good,” she admitted.
His grin widened, even more pleased. “What are you doing later?”
“Working.”
“After work.”
“Not much.”
“Come over tonight. I’ll make dinner.”
“At your grandmother’s?”
“She has a kitchen.”
“Ha-ha.” She adjusted her cap. “But seriously, what will she think if I come over?”
“She’ll think I enjoy spending time with you.” His gaze met hers and held. “And I do.”
Amanda’s pulse quickened, her heart skipping a beat. “Bette takes these things seriously,” she said, fighting to sound normal. “She’ll think it’s going somewhere.”
“Maybe it is.”
She felt her eyes widen and her heart did that crazy leap thing again. He was smiling at her, and yet the expression in his eyes was surprisingly earnest.
She didn’t know whether she should giggle, blush, or lean in to kiss him. She clapped her gloved hands together. “Don’t you have that call today with Cormac?”
“I do. And why are you changing the subject?”
This time she couldn’t hide the heat rushing through her, warming her face. “Because I’m not sure what to say.”
“Say yes you’ll come to dinner. I’ll make my famous lasagna and garlic bread. You’ll love it. And if you don’t love it now, you will because it’s one of the few things I know how to make.”
“You’re making all kinds of assumptions, handsome.”
It was his turn to slowly smile, his straight white teeth flashing. “Am I?”
She shook her head and began jogging in place. “I’m getting cold. I have to go. And, yes, you’re handsome. I’m sure you know it.”
“It never hurts to hear.”
She groaned even as she laughed. “Look who’s become the funny man.”
“You make me happy.”
Her feet slowed. She stopped jogging. “Do I?” she asked softly, all laughter gone.
He nodded, and leaning forward, kissed her. “Yes.” He kissed her again, then tugged her cap lower, all the way down her brow. “Go home and get warm. And I’ll tell Gram you’re coming for dinner.”
Amanda had been to Bette’s house countless times, and knew her way around the house and kitchen, and yet it was suddenly completely different being there with Tyler. He made the rooms feel small, and overly warm, and she kept bumping into walls and corners of furniture—the couch, the sideboard, the dining room table. She didn’t feel any pain from the bumps, just klutzy. And giddy. And overly excited.
Tyler’s lasagna was good, very respectable, and while it was in no way the best she’d ever had, his garlic bread probably was. The outside was lovely and crusty while the inside melted in her mouth, all warm soft bread fragrant with garlic and real butter. She ate two slices, and then another, mopping up the red sauce from the lasagna, while silently telling herself she’d just have to run an extra fifteen minutes but it would be worth it.
After dinner, Bette settled in to her reclining armchair to watch her favorite show and Tyler took a seat on the couch, and then patted the cushion next to him, indicating that Amanda was to sit next to him. Amanda darted a look in Bette’s direction and Bette said loudly, “I know all about you two. Just ignore me. Pretend I’m not here.”
Tyler shrugged. “She said to ignore her.”
“As if,” Amanda muttered, taking the empty spot next to him, and then privately delighted when he slid an arm around her and pulled her even closer.
“Feel like you’re back in high school?” he asked in her ear.
Amanda fought a giggle. “I do. And it’s weird.”
“And nice.”
She couldn’t stop smiling. She didn’t even feel sixteen anymore, but closer to eleven. “So how did it go with Cormac today?”
“The call got postponed at the last minute,” he answered.
“That must have been disappointing.”
“A little,” he said.
She glanced up into his face. He didn’t seem worried. “Has it been rescheduled yet?”
“No.”
“You’re not anxious?”
“No. Because I’m going to stop by his office tomorrow to see him.”
Amanda went to bed humming songs from show tunes. She couldn’t remember when she last felt so happy. If this was love, no wonder people found it so addictive. She suddenly stopped pulling the throw pillows off her bed, freezing in place.
If this was love?
No.
That was just ridiculous. She wasn’t in love, or falling in love. She’d only met Tyler two weeks ago. She couldn’t be in love. She was simply infatuated. She had a crush. He was handsome, and athletic, creative and successful… as well as Bette’s only grandchild, and determined to move her away from Marietta.
Amanda climbed into bed, no longer humming. She pulled the covers up to her chin and held her breath, trying to ignore the hint of panic. She was nearing twenty-eight. She’d dated plenty of nice men, but she’d never once come close to falling in love, so why now? Why Tyler? What made him special?
Everything, answered the little voice inside of her.
Tyler continued to have a difficult time connecting with Cormac Sheenan. Either Cormac was constantly out of the office, or he had an incredibly efficient front desk receptionist who was operating under instructions to let no one past her.
Instead of getting annoyed, Tyler poured his energy into a new, secret project, as well as a new game he’d wanted to work on for quite some time, but TexTron hadn’t been enthused about new games. They just wanted to capitalize on what had already been created. Well, he didn’t have to answer to TexTron anymore. He didn’t have to answer to anyone anymore, which meant he could devote hours every day to his project, as well as coding and designing, and all the things he’d once loved to do before running the business got in the way of creating.
Tyler wasn’t the only one immersed in work. Time seemed to fly by for Amanda. Her days were spent at the salon, and her evenings were more often than not spent with Tyler. Some nights they stayed in Marietta, while other nights they headed to Bozeman or Livingston. Amanda enjoyed showing off the neighboring communities, but was always glad to return to Marietta. It was small, but it was home.
Except it wasn’t his home, she knew, glancing at Tyler one night as he drove them home from Bozeman where they’d gone to watch the Montana State Bobcats play Eastern Washington. “When do you plan on returning to Austin?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “There really is no reason to be there anymore.”
She processed this for a moment. “What about your house?”
“I’ll have to sell it.”
“The house isn’t ready to sell though, is it?”
“No.”
She wanted to ask more questions. She wanted to ask if he had a time frame for putting the house on the market. She wanted to know if he was planning on eventually returning to California—it was where he was from, after all—or if he was going to stay in Montana longer. She didn’t want to worry about the future, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to manage her feelings. She was becoming so attached, and Amanda was beginning to think of them as a couple. Was that a mistake? Was he just killing time with her, or did he have deeper feelings? It had been so long since she’d dated anyone seriously that she couldn’t even remember
how this worked. All she knew was that it felt right being together. She wasn’t a different person with him, she was just a little happier, and a whole lot more content. But if he wasn’t going to stay in Marietta long-term, maybe she needed to do a better job protecting her heart?
He must have picked up on her pensive mood, because he lifted her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her fingertips. “What’s wrong?”
It was such a sweet gesture, and the fact that he could read her so well, put a lump in her throat. She’d really fallen for this guy, hadn’t she? “Can you see yourself in Montana long-term?” she asked carefully, as he put her hand on the stick shift, his fingers laced through hers. “I know your father didn’t have fond memories of Marietta, but what do you think of it? You’ve been here a couple weeks now. Is it a place you could live?”
He hesitated. “If I had work here, I could see trying it for a couple of years.”
“But only a couple of years.”
He hesitated again, even longer this time. She could tell he was choosing his words with care. Clearly, he did not want to offend her.
“I have never lived in a place that wasn’t urban,” he said. “I was born in the Bay Area, I thrived in the Bay Area, I like cities.”
“The traffic doesn’t bother you? The smog doesn’t bother you? Having people constantly on top of you…”
“No.” His shoulders shifted, his expression rueful. “I know cities aren’t for everyone, but I find them energizing. I wake up ready to get to work, get things done.”
“You don’t think people in smaller towns feel the same way?”
“Good question. Maybe they do. But, in general, small towns have never been for me.”
Amanda bit her tongue to keep from saying more, even as disappointment filled her. She should have expected this. He’d never once said anything about wanting to spend more time in Montana. He’d merely said he wanted his company back, and instead she’d created an elaborate daydream, picturing him settling down in Marietta, working at Cormac’s headquarters on Main and Fourth Street, and the two of them figuring out their relationship. In her mind it was idyllic—him, her, working, happy and fulfilled. In Marietta. She realized now it was a mistake. She didn’t even have to read romances to live in fantasyland.
He shot her a side glance. “You’ve gone awfully quiet.”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“How different we are.” She forced a small, tight smile. “You don’t like small towns. I don’t like big cities—”
“I said in general I didn’t like small towns. I didn’t say I didn’t like Marietta. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m enjoying my visit.”
Visit. Visit as in visitor. He wasn’t staying.
“I’m enjoying it so much that I just bought tickets this morning for us to go to the St. Patrick’s Day Ball at the Graff Hotel Saturday night. I know Gram was wanting to go, and I thought I’d check with you and see how you felt if she went with us?”
Amanda didn’t know how to answer. Her emotions were all over the place. She’d never been to any of the balls or parties at the Graff. The ticket prices were usually too steep and she didn’t have a significant other to take her. Instead, she did the hair for all those going, and suddenly she felt a little bit like Cinderella being invited to the ball herself. “Of course I would want you to take Bette,” she answered huskily. “She’s far more deserving than me.”
“But dancing with her isn’t the same as dancing with you,” he teased.
She felt the corners of her lips lift. He made her smile even when she didn’t want to. “Does she know yet?”
“I wanted to get your approval first.”
“You never have to do that. She’s your grandmother.”
He gave her hand a squeeze as he shifted down, slowing to brake at the stop light on Highway 89 near the new development on the edge of Marietta. “But you’re my girl.”
Her heart skipped a beat and she turned to look at him, her gaze locking with his. Even in the shadowy light of the car, she could see the intensity in his expression. “Am I?” she said, trying to sound light and flirtatious, but instead the words came out a little too rough, and raw. Maybe it was because she cared so much about his answer.
“I’m not interested in anyone but you, Amanda.”
“We had a rocky start.”
“It wasn’t that rocky.”
“No?”
“No. I pretty much fell for you the moment I laid eyes on you.”
The ball at the Graff was equal parts fun and fabulous, but maybe that was because Tyler looked dashing in his dark suit and tie, while Amanda felt like a princess in her gorgeous vintage 1950s ball gown, light gold fabric shimmering in the light, the full skirt swirling around her legs reminding her of the short-lived months she’d been able to take ballet before her mother pulled her out due to financial difficulties. But she felt like a ballerina tonight, with just a little Hollywood film star thrown in for glamour. By Marietta standards she was overdressed. But then, by Marietta standards she was always overdressed, and it didn’t bother her because she enjoyed dressing up, and this was home, and if she couldn’t be herself here, then where?
The Graff ballroom was awash in green, with shamrock garland swags over each of the ballroom windows and more garlands over each of the ballroom doors. The tables, too, were dressed in green, with festive emerald fabric topping the white fabric below. The centerpieces of white roses, carnations and shamrocks were so charming that Amanda suspected Risa had designed them, and she paused near a table to admire how the glowing votive candles reflected the shamrocks’ green glitter.
“Ah, this is lovely,” Amanda said, her gaze sweeping the room. “I’m so happy to be here. I’ve always wanted to come to one of these fundraisers.”
“I tried to bring you,” Bette said. “But you didn’t want to be my date.”
“I didn’t want to be a pity date,” Amanda corrected with a quick smile.
“No pity dates here tonight,” Tyler added. “Not when I have the two most beautiful women in the ballroom on my arms.”
While servers made the rounds with festive cocktails and green beer, Amanda pointed out various people to Tyler that she thought he should know, or might recognize the name, such as Sage Carrigan O’Dell, who’d founded Copper Mountain Chocolates, Paul and Bailey Zabrinski, owners of Big Z Hardware and Lumber on Main Street, and then Risa and her gorgeous husband, Monty, with Amanda adding that she was sure Risa had done the flowers for the party tonight. “Risa is involved in every charity event here in town. She’s so quick to donate time and materials. Whenever I need anything for a special event donation, she always says yes.”
“Sounds like a wonderful person,” Tyler answered.
“Oh! And there’s Rachel Vaughn, her husband Nate is co-owner of the Bar V5 Dude Ranch. We have a number of successful dude ranches in the area, but the Bar V5 is one of the most successful. You might have seen Rachel’s bakery on Main Street. Copper Mountain Gingerbread and Dessert Factory? That’s my go-to place for birthday cakes. I love their cakes.”
“But Main Street Diner for pies,” Bette interjected, tapping Tyler on the arm. “That’s where I got your apple pie.”
Amanda nodded. “I agree. Ownership of the diner has changed several times over the years, but they have the same cook in the back, and she comes in at four every morning to get the baking started.”
“You can tell the cowboys in the room, can’t you?” Tyler said, nodding at the crowded ballroom where Marietta’s finest mingled, voices a hum of conversation and laughter, guests wearing everything from suits and tuxes and formal gowns to crisp plaid shirts and starched, ironed Wranglers.
“Not necessarily. Our mayor loves to dress up in Western gear, and wear his most expensive boots, but he lives on Bramble and wouldn’t know a heifer from a steer.”
Amanda then gestured toward a group of men in tuxedos with glamorous wives, women Amanda k
new quite well as she did the hair for all. She’d started with McKenna years ago, and then McKenna Douglas Sheenan recommended her to Harley, Taylor, Whitney, with the most recent being Jet, Harley’s youngest sister and the wife of Shane, the brother the town called ‘the lost Sheenan.’ “And those fellows over there, they were all raised in Paradise Valley, and could probably ride before they could walk. Those are the Sheenans.” She gave Tyler a faint smile. “Cormac is the fair one in the middle, his wife Whitney works at Sheenan Media as well. The rest of the Sheenan brothers are dark. Only four of the six are here tonight. Brock, the oldest, is the one on the far left, then Cormac, Troy and Trey.” She held Tyler’s gaze. “Want me to introduce you to them?”
“No.”
“Not even Cormac?”
“I might approach him, but I can handle it on my own.”
“I’m not saying you need me.”
“I know. But I just have to do this my way.” He turned to his grandmother. “How are you doing, Gram? Still good standing, or would you like to sit down?”
“I’m ready to sit,” Bette said.
“Let’s find our table.”
Reaching their table, Bette was delighted to discover that it was filled with her closest friends from her bridge club and birthday group. She went around to each of the ladies, exclaiming over their dresses, admiring fun shamrock rhinestone pins and earrings. She hugged and kissed them all, and Amanda grinned, happy to see Bette so radiant. Amanda truly felt as if her night had been made.
“Did you do this?” she asked Tyler, glancing up at him.
“I thought she’d get a kick out of being with her friends.”
“She’s having the time of her life.”
“I’m glad. She deserves to be spoiled. I should have been doing these things for her years ago.”
“But you are now, and that’s what matters. Now tell me, how did you pull it off?”
“I bought a table and then reached out to each of her friends on movie day.”
“You went to the movies with everyone again?”