Tension tightened every muscle in his body. After all the domestic battles and accusations with Adriana that had spewed forth as though from a broken sewer pipe, he used to think of Maddie and calm down. Knocking up Adriana may have been a mistake, but making his baby was the best thing he ever did. Whenever he was home, he’d take the tiny bundle in his arms and rock her to sleep, holding her well into the night. Calmness would flow through him and fill in all the gaping wounds. If he was on the road, he’d pull out Maddie’s pink, stuffed lamb named Smiley from his overnight bag. The innocent scent would reassure him. Maddie made the ceaseless arguing and Adriana’s endless affairs, careless nights, and drama-filled days all worth it. He would do anything for Maddie, which was why he was pouring money into a dilapidated old home in Harmony and speed hunting for a wife.
He needed a real, live Mother Goose. That was what his brain told him. His body had other ideas. But he could do this…for Maddie and for himself. He didn’t need to entertain fantasies about Bertie and her curvaceous figure and how great her breasts felt smashed against his chest or how she always smelled of blooming gardenias. He didn’t need to recall how she tasted like cinnamon and sin when he kissed her.
He needed to find someone fast, before Bertie found her hands full of more than mere fabric swatches. Keith slammed the book closed. A couple of patrons glanced up from their laptops and gave him curious stares. He leaned back in his chair, locking his hands behind his head, plotting ways to get back at Aunt Francesca for forcing him into this predicament in the first place. He hated ultimatums and hers was a doozy. How the holy hell was he supposed to find someone to marry in a slow-moving, sleepy, small town? Or even the surrounding cities? Raleigh wasn’t exactly a hotbed of great entertainment and nightlife. They still rolled the sidewalks up around midnight. And finding someone to agree to marriage in the short span of three months—which would include dating, meeting the parents, and convincing Maddie it was all for the best—was beyond ludicrous. He didn’t think his fucked-up life could suck any more than it already did, but he guessed he was wrong. Way wrong.
Keith fished for his cell phone and texted, Luv u Maddie Poo! and then added a goofy smiley face. He knew she didn’t have her phone with her, or he hoped she didn’t because the boarding school didn’t allow access to cell phones until after dinner. But he wanted his message to be the first thing she saw when she turned on her phone. Gathering the stack of books he chose to purchase, he headed for the register when a perky Barnes & Noble employee stopped to ask if he needed help.
“Did you find everything okay?” she asked, smiling, her cornflower-blue eyes twinkling.
“Yep. A little light reading.” He chuckled, indicating the heavy books on economics and stock options he held in his hands.
“Allow me.” She reached for the stack of books, brushing his fingers in the process and blushing a pretty shade of pink. “Everyone has their passions. For me, it’s cookbooks. I love to bake,” she said as she turned toward the front of the store and the register counter.
Suddenly Keith felt as if a dark cloud had lifted and the sun’s rays beamed through the roof of the store. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the perky blond. She wore blue Keds on her feet. He raised his gaze to the acoustic tile ceiling and let out a huge breath. Thank you, Jesus!
His long stride ate up the space between him and the answer to his prayers. “So, Gail, is it?” he asked, checking out her nametag. “What else do you like to do besides read cookbooks? I bet you’re a fantastic cook,” he said, pouring on all the charm ever instilled in him from too many boarding schools. Cute, flat-chested Gail gave a light laugh.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say fantastic, but I do make a mean batch of peanut butter cookies. I’m afraid I have a bit of a sweet tooth,” she ended in a shy voice. Keith stared to see if a halo glowed around her head.
“Don’t we all,” he mumbled.
“But I really love my job.” She continued to speak in a soft, well-mannered voice as the scanner pinged at the barcodes. “I’m head of the children’s department, and we have story time, plays, and all kinds of fun activities to get the kids interested in reading.”
Keith froze, listening for the Hallelujah chorus. “Excuse me?” He’d missed something very important, spilling from her perfect, pale-pink lips.
She gave a nervous laugh. “Nothing. I was asking if you had any children…Mr…?”
“Morgan. But call me Keith. All my friends do,” he said, ramping up his famous Morgan smile. “And yes, I have a very precocious daughter. She’s ten going on twenty-one,” he added with a chuckle.
“Oh, well, maybe our reading program will interest her. Maybe your wife could bring her in.” Adorable, cookie-baking Gail said “wife” with the right amount of hesitation topped with curiosity.
Keith handed over his credit card. “Maddie’s mom died when she was four.” Gail’s cornflower-blue eyes flared wide with horror.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t know.” Gail handed back his card and Keith signed the receipt. “But maybe I can bring her to one of your reading circles. When are they scheduled?”
Plain vanilla Gail graced him with a beatific smile as she handed him his bag of books. “Follow me and I’ll give you a schedule.”
“That’d be great.” Keith fell into step beside her. “Better yet, why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee while we discuss it,” he said to a beaming, sensible, khaki-wearing Gail. “How do you feel about Disney movies?” he asked, leading the way to the coffee bar.
“Who doesn’t love Ariel in The Little Mermaid?” his perfect little homemaker said.
***
WELCOME TO HARMONY,
NORTH CAROLINA
POPULATION 11,339
WHERE EVERYONE SINGS AND
LIVES IN HARMONY
Liza Palmer’s blue BMW idled outside the city limits of Harmony. She drummed her fingers on the leather steering wheel, contemplating her next move.
It would be easy to pull back onto the narrow highway and drive those few short miles to her parents’ house. The house that Liza used to call home. But now she had no idea what home meant. Not since she’d been fired. Fired. Her. She closed her eyes as a fresh wave of pain washed over her.
She’d left home four years ago as one of Harmony’s rising stars. After graduating top of her class at law school, she’d landed a very prestigious job at a law firm in Chicago, where she’d earned her stripes and made partner in only three short years. She’d always been driven to reach her goals, even if it meant stepping on a few toes along the way. However, she had no idea how much it hurt until someone stomped on hers. Now, she felt lost…and betrayed. No shiny orange carrot to chase. Just an empty, hollow feeling that settled in her chest.
Numb to the core, she’d driven away from the Windy City with no direction in mind and had been wandering for over two weeks until she found herself staring at Harmony’s welcome sign. Liza lowered her window and inhaled the fresh smell of pine mixed with green grass. Something she never smelled or even saw trapped in the high rises of her big-city world. She gave a long sigh. All roads led to home. But not for long. She simply needed enough time to start the healing process and to figure out what she wanted to do next. Yes, home. Maybe she’d curl up on the screened porch with a good book and give her mother all kinds of smothering time. Nothing sounded better. She’d give it two weeks—infinite possibilities.
Liza pushed the familiar beat-up door to the Daily Grind and stepped inside. Not much had changed, except maybe a few more displays of packaged snacks on a rack. Flavorful coffee smells permeated the air. Earl was busy behind the counter filling some tall guy’s order. Liza moved toward the cooler on the back wall where she spied slices of Annie Mae’s homemade cheesecake and cups of banana pudding. Her favorite. It had been a long time since she’d indulged her sweet tooth. She
opened the cooler and grabbed one of each. Maybe she’d save one for later…then again, maybe not. She moved toward the counter, hugging her loot, when the tall guy ordering coffee turned with two cups in his hands. He looked familiar. She peered at him until realization struck.
“Hey. Aren’t you the Prince?” she asked, placing her goodies on the counter. He went still and his dark, hooded eyes moved over her with unhidden masculine appreciation. It happened all the time.
“Yeah, Keith Morgan. And you?” he said in a nice, raspy voice.
For once, Liza felt nothing. She hadn’t driven halfway across the country to start up a fling. Not even with Keith Morgan, ex-pro tennis player, looking every bit like sex on a stick, with his wavy, dark hair and rock-hard body.
Earl chuckled behind the counter. “Hey there, Liza. You just get into town?” He jerked his head toward Keith. “Our famous new resident. He bought the old Victorian over on Carver. Gonna fix it all up and guess who’s helping him?”
“Hey, Earl. Can I have a skinny latte, please? Large.” Then she turned back to the Prince, now leaning against the snack display, wearing a curious expression. “Liza Palmer. I’d shake your hand but looks like it’s full.” She indicated his coffees to go. “I followed your tennis career, hated to see you retire.”
His lips curled into something resembling a smile as a look of pain flashed behind his eyes. “Thanks. You still live in Harmony?” he asked.
Earl handed Liza her coffee and she fished for her wallet inside her Louis Vuitton cross-body bag. “Not any more. Just visiting. Who’s helping with your home? Some big designer from Miami, I bet,” she said with a chuckle, handing Earl some bills. Liza remembered that Keith had lived and trained in Miami for years.
“No.” Keith shook his head.
“Now, why would the Prince go and do something like that?” Earl interjected as he opened the register drawer. “We’ve got the best right here in our own backyard.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Harmony didn’t have the best of anything, except maybe Annie Mae’s homemade desserts.
Earl half hooted, half laughed. “Oh Liza, Harmony may not be like your town, Chicago, but we hold our own.”
“Ah, the Windy City. Came home to thaw out?” Keith gave her a wink.
“Yeah, something like that. So who’s working on your house? I can’t think of any—”
“That’s funny,” Earl chortled. “Like you’ve been away that long. You know it’s Bertie.”
“Oh no.” Liza slid her gaze to Keith. “Really?” The Prince didn’t appear embarrassed, just uncomfortable. He nodded, confirming Earl’s gossip. Liza couldn’t stop herself. She threw her head back and laughed out loud for the first time in weeks. “This I’ve got to see.”
***
Keith said nothing as the pretty blond with the long ponytail had a good laugh at his expense. What strange luck today. First, sweet Gail who loved children and baking cookies, and now this big-city, edgier blond who loved to laugh…at him, and probably chewed small children up and spit them out for lunch. Plain Gail would be better mother material, hands down. Sharp Liza would be good company and maybe a good date, another distraction. And he could use all the distractions he could find. So far, he hadn’t found a cure or an escape, because he still wanted Bertie Anderson in a really bad, bad way. Keith dragged his mind out of the gutter and refocused on laughing Liza.
“If you’re finished doubling over with laughter, maybe you’d like to share one of those desserts. If you can manage to give one up. You’re clutching that bag as if you’re gonna get mugged.”
“Oh no. You’re not getting any of my dessert. I’ve waited way too long.” Her head shook, making her ponytail swing across her shoulders. “Who’s the other coffee for? You got some hot date waiting in the car?” she teased with a smirk on her face. Clearly she had read some of the tabloid stories.
“Nah, but I am meeting someone.”
Earl leaned over the counter. “You don’t know the half of it, Liza. The Prince here has to find a wife and he’s only got three months. Francesca Balogh, his aunt, has apparently laid down the law.”
Thanks, Earl, for spilling the beans. How the hell did he know the story? Geez, he was well aware that Harmony was small, but he didn’t realize that he’d be the hot topic on everyone’s tongue. Keith guessed that made him the official town idiot. Of course his affairs would be fueling the town gossip, this being Mayberry and all. Screw it. The whole town was bat-shit crazy.
“What?” Liza looked as if she might burst from laughing. “Surely, he jests,” she said in a tone of disbelief.
Keith shot Earl a glare. “Nope. It’s so out there, they could write a sitcom around it. Come on and I’ll give you all the hilarious details.” He gestured with his elbow for Liza to follow him out.
She trotted after him. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Man, I’m glad I came home.”
***
Keith climbed the stairs to the second floor of his home looking for Bertie. Liza followed close behind. They’d both finished their coffees and shared Liza’s cheesecake on a park bench in the middle of town square, down the street from the Daily Grind. Keith found Liza to be funny and insightful. He only confirmed what Earl had told her. He didn’t elaborate on his fucked-up life or the fact that Francesca threatened to fight for Maddie.
As angry as Francesca’s high-handedness made him, Keith didn’t want to fight her. Deep down, underneath all the anger and the hurt and the loss and the self-pity, he knew Francesca was right. He knew he needed to gain control of his life and the life of his daughter before it was too late—before Maddie was all grown and before he missed being a real father to her. And as repugnant as it all seemed, that meant making this insta-bride thing happen.
Liza could’ve been a contender, but she laughed in his face, as was her habit, and basically told him no fucking way. And yes, she’d dropped the f-bomb. So, Keith believed he met Gail today for a reason. Now, if he could only shake the feeling that pursuing the little bookworm was a terrible mistake.
In the upstairs hallway, he followed the sound of music and the unmistakable smell of vinegar. He stopped in the doorway of the room that would soon be Maddie’s.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Bertie jumped at his voice and almost fell off the ladder she’d climbed to attack the ancient floral wallpaper. Keith sprinted into action just in time to slap his hand around the back of her thigh to keep her from tumbling. The ladder wobbled and then settled back in place.
“Jesus.”
“You scared me half to death!” Bertie said. “Don’t you know better than to sneak up on people?” She held a scoring tool in one hand and the top of the ladder with the other. Part of her hair had slipped from the claw on top of her head and was plastered to her damp neck. She no longer wore the lacy tunic but a form-fitting, pale yellow T-shirt. Keith’s hand touched bare skin below her short khaki cargo shorts. Her soft thigh burned the inside of his palm, and he itched to slide his hand up to discover what kind of panties she wore. Fingers pressed into her flesh and lingered a moment too long. Bertie’s indignant expression hurtled into one of heated surprise.
“Oh my. Bertie, don’t you look darling?” Liza purred from the doorway, and Bertie jumped again at the sound. This time Keith grabbed her around the waist and hauled her off the ladder before she fell off. He held her against his chest for a second—or twenty—enjoying the feel of her breasts and the hint of gardenias from her warm skin. Crap. He needed to get a grip.
Bertie’s sanity prevailed. “Liza. What are you doing here?” She pushed hard against his chest with one hand while regaining her balance in her funky-colored clogs.
Liza strolled forward in black cords and brown riding boots. She held the coffee he’d bought for Bertie, which minutes ago he’d nuked in the microwave before heading upstairs. “Delivering a hot c
up of coffee. Looks like you’re gonna need it,” she said, sounding amused.
With narrowed eyes, Bertie glanced from Liza’s self-assured stance to Keith’s blank face. He fought to keep the mask of indifference plastered in place. These two women had history. He’d be smart to find out what it was.
“Well, you didn’t have to come all the way from Chicago to deliver coffee, but I sure do appreciate it,” Bertie said with thick Southern sarcasm, taking the cup from Liza’s hand.
“Like what you’ve done with the place.” Liza’s gaze roamed the half-stripped walls and the plastic-covered carpeting. “Real nice…uh…homey touch,” she said, pulling a strip of loose paper from the wall and dropping it on the floor.
Bertie pierced Liza with a scathing glare.
“Uh, Liza, would you give me a minute? I need to have a word with my decorator,” he said.
“Designer,” Bertie said through clenched teeth.
“Sure, sugar…anything for you.” Liza trailed her fingers down his arm. “I’ll see you downstairs.” She sauntered from the room, taking her big smile and cocky attitude with her.
“If you’re done scaring me to death, I’ve got work to do.” Bertie placed the coffee on a card table next to the ladder and wiped her hands down her smudged T-shirt.
Keith returned his attention to Bertie. “You’re not going back up that ladder,” he said, punching off the music from the iPod sitting in its docking station on the card table. “What the hell are you doing anyhow? I hired you to decorate, not do manual labor.”
“Stripping wallpaper. I don’t have a paper hanger right now, and all my painters are busy working on the outside.”
“Where’s Barney? Your partner-in-crime?”
Find My Way Home (Harmony Homecomings) Page 8