Kisses Between the Lines: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 2)

by Lucy McConnell

  “A nice mix. And was there…chemistry?” She peered over her cup.

  “Hah, scoop monger.” Lindy couldn’t help a smile. “Yes, there was chemistry. But he was a gentleman, and warm, and mmm. But it was all on the up and up. Betty happened to be in the car next to us.”

  “Ah, enough said. Speaking of, she stopped by yesterday with fundraiser flyers about Armand. Not sure why she felt the need to personally come by, but I can guess.”

  “Yeah, I just saw Britta’s email. Not sure how he’ll take the rescheduled reading, but I’ll let him know. Looks like I’ll have to call him this morning, with it being urgent and all.”

  Shennedy laughed. “You sound…happy.”

  “I am, Shen.” She paused for a moment. “Talk about a surprise. Everything is going so well, it’s almost surreal. I told him about Damon last night.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  “I feel like I’m getting closure on him, on the whole experience. And ready to move forward, but to what, I don’t know.”

  Shennedy glanced at her from the side. “I’ll tell you what I think— ” A bzzz sounded from Lindy’s phone. A glance at Shennedy. “It’s Damon.”

  She read aloud:

  I wanted to be there in person to ask you this but it’s once-in-a-lifetime. It’s the Harbeson position. It’s what you’ve wanted and I’ve spent months making it happen. Jed Harbeson asked for you specifically. With salary, bonuses, vacation, and flex-schedule, just like you asked. Call me as soon as you can, it starts in ten days, he leaves for a safari trip soon after that and wants to see you in action. I can’t tell you how amazing it’s been to be a part of making your dream come true. I hope you feel and can trust my sincerity, Lindy.

  Shennedy stared. “Well. There you are.”

  Lindy let out a breath and slowly placed the phone on the counter. “Amazing. I can’t believe he worked it out. That is incredible. Jed not only refused to consider me organizing his sales seminar tour because I’m a woman, he threw out the whole work-from-home option for qualifying employees. Of course, I never thought he’d go for it in the first place. It was my pie-in-the-sky dream.”

  “Then why’d you do it?”

  She shook her head. “Damon and I had attended one of those ‘make your dreams a reality’ seminars with all the psychology behind it. Pretty powerful some of it, but the bottom-line is they give you a Be Bold challenge. That was mine— ask for my dream position, pie-in-the-sky salary, all the bells and whistles, and watch what happened. Talk about crash and burn. But now, I can’t believe he worked the deal— that’s serious money and perks. As in, it’s a miracle. But that’s Damon for you. What do you think?”

  Shennedy folded her arms. “Besides the fact he’ll never make it as a Hallmark card writer, it’s the same old Damon.”

  “Typically, I’d be right with you. But now, I don’t know. His texts, his persistence, it’s different. He’s done some surprising things lately. No, don’t worry. There’s nothing that can start between us. This isn’t about us. It’s about the change. This is seriously an incredible gesture, like he’s saying sorry and wants to make that up to me. Shouldn’t I take that into consideration?”

  “Sure it can seem that way, and with most people I would agree. But Damon is Damon. He’s a business man, start to finish. If he cooked this deal, there’s something in it for him.”

  Lindy nodded. “That’s likely true. But I don’t have a problem with it being a win-win. That’s good business. He spent a lot of time obviously, and who knows what else, to get Jed to change his mind. And the fact that he remembered my dream, that’s…”

  “savvy— ”

  “— touching. Shennedy, I’m not going back to him, okay? And, I’m not going to go the other way, either. I’ve spent months trying to move forward and in the past week or two I’ve been feeling relief, even healing. This opportunity, it’s a shock on both levels. To possibly get closure with Damon, and have some kind of future ahead. Not just some kind. The future I’ve always wanted.”

  Shennedy smiled. “But is it still the kind of future you want?”

  Lindy looked at the text message again.

  Shennedy stood with her cup. “And Lindy girl, he is not looking for closure.”

  Ugh. Lindy tapped the phone to her chest. What did she do now?

  When she thought of Armand and their time together, last night and throughout the past days, contentment and happiness flowed through her. But now this. A possible new job, and Damon, and what to do for her future. A melancholy seeped in, then confusion, and desire for avoidance.

  It should be a no-brainer. At least about the job. Damon, on the other hand. Too many feelings accompanied that name, many of them conflicting. Why did he need to be so persistent? Why couldn’t he simply let her go? Damon always knew a good bet, he had a knack. And that meant he knew Lindy was good for him. But was he good for her? Had he truly changed his ways?

  Enough. She would have to think about it later. Much later.

  Lindy glanced at the phone and remembered Britta’s email. First things first. She needed to tell Armand the new plan. Was it too early to call him? A smile tugged at her lips thinking of the evening before, talking so closely, Armand’s tender kiss on her hand. Well, ready or not…

  “Allo?”

  “Armand? It’s Lindy.”

  “Ah, Lindy, mon cher ami. I was just thinking of you. Driving in this beautiful morning and wishing for your lovely company.”

  A sudden thrill shot through her. He had been thinking about her, wanting her there on the drive. Yes, she would love to be there with him, the sun through the windows, talking about everything and nothing…

  “Allo? Are you there?”

  “Oh, yes, here, sorry. I just wanted to say, well, first, thanks for a truly enjoyable evening last night. You not only braved a drive-in movie but, well, I appreciated the time we had to talk. To connect.”

  “And I. You are easy to talk with. I hope we can do so again, soon.”

  “Me too.” Was her voice getting breathy? Focus, Lindy. “So, the second thing, not to be too official, but it seemed pretty urgent. Britta wanted to be sure you got the email from the Harvest Hurrah board. About the fundraiser?”

  “A fundraiser? No, I haven’t checked the email.”

  “Well, apparently as the visiting international darling, you’re to do a book signing and rescheduled reading on the last night of the hurrah. It should be a big ta-doo, and help them sell a ton of tickets.”

  Pause. Then soft angry words in French. “Britta tells this to you? And has she announced I will do this?”

  “Well, yes, the rest of the email says she’s been putting up flyers and posted it on community promotions— what’s wrong? It’s the same thing you were going to do before, of course they would reschedule it. You’re a big deal, you know?” She added a smoothing laugh.

  Another awkward pause and French muttering. “We will see. I will deal with this myself. Tell Britta I will call her tomorrow.”

  Lindy felt her hackles rise. “Armand, whoa, wait just a minute. I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but as your stand-in assistant, I think I can say this is a big deal to Britta, in case you haven’t understood. She’s put a ton of time into this, the whole town has. Meetings and stores and promotion. This fundraiser is a huge event for this town, and especially for Britta.” Your family member. “And frankly, the first cancellation didn’t do her any favors.”

  More silence.

  “Look, I’m not trying to be impertinent, I’m simply making you aware. From a publicity point of view, I think Britta needs you to follow through on what you originally agreed to do. Is that a difficult thing?”

  “It iz more complicated than you know. I will talk with you later, okay? I must think for a while. Take care, Lindy.”

  Click. She looked at the phone. What was that all about? Why was he so avoidant about this— was it the fundraising, maybe feeling like he’s being used? Or about the
reading, or the signing, or both? Did he not like being told what to do?

  Again, this other side of Armand— angry, vague, self-focused. Well, when he came back, she would get to the bottom of it. Yes, she had spoken firmly, maybe too much, but someone needed to say it. If he backed out on the rescheduled reading, Britta would be in a hard spot, again, not to mention that it wouldn’t help the fundraising efforts either. Of course they would reschedule, didn’t he understand how it worked? Didn’t he care about that, or were they too small-town to matter?

  Lindy spent the rest of the day contemplating the situation while cleaning Shennedy’s home then switching to finish at This & That. Without Armand, the ticky-tack details were all she could tackle, or wanted to. Moving the smaller pieces, cleaning the walls, tagging and pricing individual spoons and cups until it almost made her crazy. Knowing she could relieve the burden from Shennedy helped her feel a sense of accomplishment. But the truth was, she missed his company. She missed him. Even with his confusing and frustrating behaviors, a connection between them flowed, surprising and fulfilling.

  Lindy pushed those thoughts aside and finished a chunk of the back areas. By evening, a hot shower and pajamas sounded perfect. She and Shennedy ordered chicken pot pie from Chip’s and settled on the comfy couch for a good TV show. About ten o’clock, Lindy channel-checked for something else to watch and hit the evening news. The same old thing, gloom and doom. She sighed and was about to change the channel when the anchorman showed a P.R. headshot of Armand.

  Lindy jerked forward.

  She shushed Shennedy while the anchorman talked of Armand’s U.S. book success over the past few years with his 1940s male detective series. Video footage showed Armand signing books and smiling at the people coming to his table.

  “That’s him!”

  Shennedy shot her a look of, are you back in junior high?

  The long line could clearly be seen, but as the anchor shared, not a mob turnout as had been predicted, like at his last book signing a year ago. A different clip showed his previous signing where security had to keep back the pressing middle-aged women. The anchor added that it was too early to predict the success as there were many stops to go on this 15-city tour.

  Armand suddenly came on screen, being interviewed by a perky blonde.

  “And where is your next book signing— Chicago?”

  “No, actually, next it is at Echo Ridge.”

  “As in, upstate New York?”

  Lindy gasped.

  “Yes, I am part of the town library fundraiser. My cousin, Britta, owns the library. It iz a big fair, the Harvest Hurry. With the ticket money they add more books and space to help the children. So I help with that. I’m very proud of her, it iz a good cause.”

  Lindy clapped her hands. “Unbelievable.”

  Shennedy looked over. “What? That he said hurry instead of hurrah?”

  “No, that he said it at all! I talked to him on the drive down and he was furious Britta had roped him into this. But he did it.”

  She sat back. Well, that was something. Maybe he was in for the reading after all. Although technically he hadn’t said that. But still, it was a 15-second plug for the Hurrah on national news.

  Shennedy nodded mischievously. “Well, well. A good-looking, talented man who takes the what-for from a woman who is not even his girlfriend, yet, and acts on it.” She turned to Lindy. “That’s something to consider.”

  Lindy threw a couch pillow at her. “The only thing I’m considering is how to get your shop ready to roll on Wednesday. And maybe whether it’s my turn on the personal assistant list to cook dinner for him tomorrow night.” She tried to hide her happiness that Armand had just given Britta some great exposure, even when he likely didn’t want to.

  Standing up, Shennedy laughed. “I thought you wanted to impress him. Take my advice, order in. Better yet, take him to the church potluck.”

  “No such luck. He won’t be home until tomorrow night.” Lindy ignored a wave of anxiousness to see him. Goodness, she was a grown woman not a teenager. Still, tomorrow night seemed a long time away.

  Time enough to consider what to do about the Jed Harbeson job, and Damon. And Armand. Somehow this needed to work out but exactly how, Lindy had no earthly idea.

  AS WAS TYPICAL, THE nondenominational church overflowed with people to hear Pastor Louis and his meaningful sermons. Lindy glanced around the quaint chapel, looking for Shennedy but in reality, Armand as well. Although he had clearly stated Sunday night was the earliest he would return, she still hoped. Last night’s media shout-out made her anxious to thank him, especially after her boldness about his role in the fundraising efforts. Shennedy waved her to a front pew just as the service began.

  Today’s message was on a season for change. As Pastor Louis shared opening thoughts Lindy felt the personal application of it. He quoted Ecclesiastes 3:1, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”

  She sensed the same process happening in her life.

  One season had been college, another starting life in L.A. And now, here in Echo Ridge. This wasn’t merely a transition place, but it had become a second home. At times, more of a home than she had left behind. Thoughts of her contemporary apartment with its stainless steel fridge and granite counters reflected her life there. She’d rarely cooked in that kitchen, barely spending a few hours each evening at the apartment. Here, Lindy liked being in Shennedy’s home and the antique shop. Even the quilting bee. Each day surrounded by meaningful things, and connecting people. Emotionally, she had shifted.

  What was next? Could she go back to that steel and granite life, and possibly do it differently? Or did she belong here, but doing what?

  After the closing prayer, people chatted and filed into the adjoining hall for the potluck dinner. Buffet tables held an aromatic array of casseroles, salads, side dishes and desserts. People mingled with the hum of conversation expected of a group connected to one another through the years. Lindy munched on spinach dip and bread when she saw him.

  No. Armand was here?

  He was corralled by no less than five women, of all ages, smiling and listening as one woman from the library board chattered away. Almost at the same moment, he caught her stare and smiled deeply. Lindy made her way carefully, not wanting to attract attention. Just as she went to speak, Pastor Louis approached the gaggle of women.

  “My dear ladies, how are we today? And this strapping young man, the famous writer of detective stories, and now a visitor in our neck of the woods?”

  Armand shook his hand amiably. “Yes, I visit for a short time, my relative Britta?”

  “Oh yes, she runs the library and does a fine job. The fundraiser is going well already. And you’re to be a part of it, is that right?”

  He smiled awkwardly. “Well, we are all to do our part, I believe.”

  “Quite so, quite so. I look forward to hearing more about your books.” He leaned in closer. “They are one of the few I can read as a man of the cloth, you understand. But now and then when it gets a bit on the violent side, I turn the pages. No offense, my son.”

  Armand patted his shoulder. “None at all.”

  A member called to the pastor and he took his leave while the women in the circle digested this morsel of gossip. Lindy took the moment to steal next to him.

  Her smile could not be helped. “How did the signing go?”

  “It went well, I believe.” With a slight whisper he added, “And how are you, looking, how you say, tres charmant.”

  Lindy pressed her hand down the cream-colored dress and matching short waist coat, warming slightly. “I have to tell you, I’m thrilled about your announcement.”

  “What announcement?”

  “That you’ll do the book signing and reading for the Harvest Hurrah.”

  “Thiz I did not say.”

  Lindy’s face fell. “But on the news...”

  Armand glanced around quickly. “I told to them the fair and I w
ould support it. After that, we shall see.”

  “What do you mean? But Britta thinks…I don’t understand.” Her eyes grew wide. “You aren’t going to cancel are you?”

  He turned slightly, smiling and nodding to someone who had caught his attention, then said quietly, “I don’t know what you mean. I cannot predict the future. And I made no such announcement on the news.”

  Betty Harmon broke closer into the circle. “Are you talking about the news clip last night? I saw it, and Ruby and Darla saw it too, most everybody in the town, you wonderful man. That’s why I think the media vans are here.”

  “What?” Armand visibly jerked.

  “Oh, my, yes. They were parked in the Kenworth’s parking lot this morning. I think Darla said that Miriam said they were looking to stay at the bed and breakfast.” She nudged Armand. “Apparently, somebody gave our small town a great big advertising push— thank you very much— and now the whole town will be ecstatic about the coverage, don’t you think?” She turned to a red-haired lady for validation.

  Armand looked visibly worried. “If you will excuse me, I apologize.”

  While the women excitedly chatted between them, Lindy followed and grabbed his elbow, speaking in a low voice. “We may only have known each other a short time, but I get you, and what you’re thinking. And I’m saying, Don’t even think it. You’ve disappointed people once. The tickets, the fundraiser, the library— it’s all riding on you following through.”

  Expressions of confusion and pain came and left as swiftly as she spoke. Then he turned and walked out of the hall.

  Lindy stood speechless, watching him leave.

  Monday came in a dreary gray with low-hanging clouds that refused to disperse. Lindy felt the stratus weight as if it lay on her shoulders. Driving to the antique shop she knew, first and foremost, Damon needed an answer about the job, but what answer to give him? Even with a few days, nothing had come clear to her. Maybe it was a joke, or a fluke text. There had been zero follow-up and that was totally unlike Damon. Perhaps it had been meat on a stick to see if she would bite. Or to see if that would make her contact him.