Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology

by Zoe York

  She smiled. “My point is, Rudy knew you, he knew the things you loved, he loved those same things with you. He was all about giving people a place to get together and have fun and enjoy each other and the town. It sounds to me like he would have definitely played mini-golf with you if it had been here.”

  Evan shook his head slightly. “You realize that you’re saying nice things about Rudy and you’re assuming that he was a different guy than the one you knew.”

  “I know,” she said. “He really did change.” She looked a little sad, but she smiled. “I’m glad he was happy here. Evan, there’s no way he would have wanted you to be anything other than the guy he got to know and love. And I hate that you don’t think you take things seriously. You take this town and your friendships seriously, you’ve taken Rudy’s trust seriously, you take your role as the guy who makes everything more fun seriously.”

  He leaned in. “Ditto,” he said. He swallowed. “You and I are very much alike.”

  She nodded, her lips pressed together.

  “So you don’t think I should be using the money on scholarships and helping add on to the medical clinic and reroofing the nursing home?” he asked. Damn, he really wanted to build that mini-golf course suddenly.

  She laughed. “Of course you should do all of those things too. But geez, you have ten million dollars. You could do all of those things ten times each.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “But make sure you invest some of it. You’d be surprised how fast you can spend a couple million dollars.”

  “Especially when you’re giving it away a couple of million dollars at a time, right?”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  But he could tell she knew what he meant. “You think Rudy didn’t know that you’d blown almost your entire trust fund on donations to charities?” he asked.

  “He knew?”

  “And he loved it, Cori.”

  Her smile got wobbly.

  “Mud pies.”

  She blinked at him. “What?”

  “You should have a place where the kids can make mud pies. Something fun and goofy and pie related.”

  “At the shop? Ava will have a coronary.”

  “At the Parking and Pie party,” he said.

  Her voice got softer. “What are you talking about?”

  He couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned over, put his hand on her neck and pulled her to stand. Then he brought her up against his body, his hand in her hair. “I can’t do this anymore,” he told her, staring down into her eyes.

  “Do what?” she whispered.

  “Hold you back. Squelch your ideas. Tell you to put things on hold and that they’re not your domain.” He kissed her hot and hard, then pulled back. “You are amazing, Cori. And your dad knew that about you. He really did. I think he realized that he wanted you to keep being you, doing what you do, too. And okay, you aren’t supposed to make the pies or wait on the customers, but you should definitely throw that party, and put a photo booth in, and have themes like sweetie pies and kiddie pies—”

  “And bacon pies?”

  “You have more than just Nutella and bacon?”

  She nodded. “Bourbon apple and bacon. And—”

  He cut her off with another kiss. “Fuck yes, you should do bacon pies,” he told her when he pulled back. “And anything else you can dream up.”

  “But that’s not my area. I can’t screw up the trust.”

  “Your area is the business. The money. Anything that helps increase that should be your domain.”

  Her eyes widened. “A loophole, Counselor?”

  He grinned. “Something like that.”

  “And that’s okay?”

  “It’s more than okay. You have to do it.”

  “Which thing?”

  “All of it.”

  She paused. Then lifted a hand to his face. “You should never say all of it to me,” she said quietly. “All is a lot with me. I’m best in small doses.”

  That was the second time she’d said that about herself. “Well, I think you’ve finally found someone who can take it all. Who wants it all. All at once.”

  “You sure?” Her voice was almost a whisper now.

  “I love that you can’t even make plain popcorn,” he told her, unable to hold any of these feelings back any longer. “That you can’t not add garnishes to everything. You immediately added caramel to Hank’s coffee. You immediately added color to the shop. You immediately added charity to your park party idea. You always, instantly, make things better.” He paused and took a breath. “You’ve made me better.”

  Her eyes were shimmery and she lifted her other hand, bracketing his face. “You were amazing way before I got here.”

  He shook his head. “All the things I’ve done, the fun, the parties, the meetings at the pond, paperwork in the park, were all efforts to be a guy people wanted to have around. It was a conscious thing. Something I’ve been working at. And not feeling particularly successful at, to be honest. But you…you don’t even have to try. And you do it in little ways. You add bacon to pie. You add sprinkles to coffee. You let the guys who spent too much time in that shop, give input on the curtains—yes,” he said when she opened her mouth, “—I heard about you bringing them fabric swaths to look at. You’ve asked around town about whose furniture and appliances are in the shop and you’ve put their names on the stuff. And yes,” he said again with a smile at her surprised look. “I heard about that too. You’ve made your sisters have dinner with you every night and every night they find something on their pillow when they go to bed—a quote, a flower, a chocolate, a bath bomb. Noah told me about that,” he said, before she could ask. “You’ve made people smile all over this town, Cori, and it’s just by being you.”

  She licked her lips, tears in her eyes. “I do try at some of that,” she said quietly. “The stuff on their pillows…I do that so they want me around even when I’m talking about photo booths in the pie shop and planning parties in the park and driving them crazy.”

  He moved his hand to her cheek, his thumb stroking over her cheek. “I love and hate that you don’t realize how much people want you around.” He took a deep breath. “I want that in my life—that make-every-single-little-thing-even-better—and it makes me look at the little things I can do. I don’t need to throw big elaborate parties or help organize street dances or put in a mini-golf course. I can make someone’s day with something a lot simpler than that.”

  “You make my day every time you smile at me.”

  He felt his own smile drop. He put his forehead against hers and gave a little groan. He needed someone he could make happy just by being himself. She was right, Rudy had known him. And loved him. And all they’d really done was sit and talk. Cori was a lot like her father. “I need you, Cori.”

  Cori took a deep breath at that and then pulled back. She gave him a big smile. “I’d better go.”

  She started to turn, but he tightened his hold. “What are you talking about?”

  She took another breath and smiled, though her eyes still glistened with tears. “I always leave at the high point.”

  Uh-huh. He pulled her back to him and put his lips against hers. “I get it. You get out while people are still feeling good, before there’s a chance for it to go bad. But you don’t have to do that here.”

  “Things are good right now.”

  “Yeah, they really are. But,” he added, “this is not the high point of this afternoon.”

  “No?”

  “No. That’s going to happen about thirty minutes after I get you into my bedroom and out of your clothes.”

  She hesitated then, her eyes going wider. Finally, she said, “Thirty minutes after?”

  “I have a lot of things to do before…the high point.”

  She blew out a breath and seemed to make a decision. “Make it twenty minutes and I’m in.”

  He grabbed his bag, stuffing the rest of his paperwork inside, and then took Cori’s hand
as she scooped up the pie. They started across the park.

  Evan called Claire as they hurried across the wet grass. It was still misting slightly, and Cori could only imagine how curly her hair was getting.

  “Hey, reschedule my afternoon. I’m heading home early.”

  Cori didn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but he disconnected as they stopped at the corner to let a car pass.

  “She’ll think you’re taking Ava home,” she said.

  He paused, one foot off the curb, and turned to her. “She thought you were Ava when you stopped at the office?”

  She nodded.

  “And you didn’t correct her?”

  “Of course not. Ava’s supposed to be making the pies,” she reminded him. “And it would be weird for your girlfriend’s sister to be seeking you out in the middle of the day.” She ignored the pang in her chest. Anyone who saw them together would be able to tell she was crazy about this man, but none of them would know it was her. It didn’t matter. She knew how she felt. Evan knew how she felt. At least mostly. The whole world didn’t have to know.

  But she kind of wanted them to.

  Evan just looked at her for several seconds. Then he said, “Go to the wedding with me this weekend.”

  She hadn’t been expecting that. She’d been expecting it doesn’t matter what they think or just a few more months. Not an invitation.

  “What wedding?”

  “A friend’s from law school. He’s getting married in Great Bend. No one from here will be there.”

  She thought about that. “I can be with you but be Cori?”

  He lifted a hand to her face. “God, yes. Please.”

  She gave him a bright smile. “Okay. Yes.”

  He grabbed her hand again and they started across the street at a much faster pace this time. Cori was breathless by the time he tugged her up the front steps to his porch. She barely had time to take in the details of the yard or the wraparound porch or the huge picture window before he had the door open, her through it, and his bag tossed to the side.

  “Clothes off,” he said as he ran a hand through his wet hair and toed off his shoes.

  Cori set the piece of pie on the little table inside the door and turned a full circle, studying his house. It smelled like him. She took a huge deep breath as she made note of the living room to the right, with the big, stone fireplace, the dining room to the left and the door that had to lead to the kitchen. The staircase was almost directly in front of them and she assumed that led to the bedrooms. What was down the hallway just to the right of the stairs?

  “Cori.”

  Her name was low and firm and she turned to face him. He had his shirt unbuttoned and there was heat and amusement in his expression. And she decided she didn’t care about that hallway. Or anything else.

  “Clothes off,” he repeated.

  She balanced on one foot as she pulled off one of her boots, then the other, watching him watch her. She pitched them toward the door. Or she thought she did. She couldn’t look to see where they’d landed because Evan was walking toward her, definitely more heat than humor in his eyes now, and she couldn’t look away.

  He stopped in front of her and reached for the zipper on her hoodie, drawing it down quickly and pushing the sweatshirt off her shoulders. It hit the floor at her feet leaving her in only her purple tank and her white denim skirt. His eyes lowered to her breasts and he breathed, “No bra. Thank God.”

  Cori grinned at that. “I was—”

  But she didn’t finish the thought as Evan whisked her shirt up and over her head.

  “Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered, shrugging out of his own shirt as his gaze took her in.

  And suddenly, she got nervous. She never got nervous about sex. Sex was something she was good at. And enjoyed. Sex and fun. She never doubted herself in those two categories. But since she’d come to Bliss, the fun had gotten complicated. She had to loop other people in, consider their opinions, plan ahead. The photo booth was over the top, her sisters weren’t into the kid pies, there were doubts about the park party. Cori had never had to think it all through before and she’d never had to run things past someone else. Either they were into what she was doing or they weren’t. But she couldn’t just go on without her sisters. And she couldn’t leave. And she sure as hell hoped Evan wasn’t going to leave right now. Of course it was his house, but…

  “Do you have any whipped cream?” she asked, making her voice playful as she stepped forward to run her hand over his chest. His hot, hard, naked chest. She drew in a breath as lust rippled through her.

  But Evan flattened his hand over hers, stopping the motion. “No, I don’t.” There was something in his eyes and voice that tightened her nerves even further.

  She focused on his chin rather than his eyes. And thought about how his slight beard would feel rubbing over her breasts and stomach and inner thighs. Yeah, that was better. Concentrate on the sex. “How about chocolate sauce?” She forced playfulness into her voice.

  “Cori.”

  When she didn’t look up right away, he tipped her chin up with a finger. “We don’t need whipped cream and chocolate sauce.”

  She gave him a smile that was only half-forced. “Whipped cream makes everything better.”

  “It makes it different. Like sprinkles in coffee.”

  Cori wet her lips and nodded. “Right.”

  “Well, I don’t want this changed. I want this straight-up, you and me, all of the delicious stuff under the whipped cream.”

  “The garnishes are what make one dish different from another,” she said quietly, also recalling that conversation with him in her kitchen. She wanted to be different for him. She wanted to stand out. And she only knew one way to do that—the same way she always tried to stand out—go over the top.

  Evan ran his hand along her jaw to the back of her head. He pulled her close and leaned in, his voice husky. “You are the perfect combination of ingredients from the bottom to the top, Corrine Michelle Carmichael. I don’t need one extra thing.”

  No one had ever said something like that to her. She doubted any of the other men she’d ever been with had ever thought something like that. She’d met one boyfriend camping. Another skiing. Another at a charity fundraiser. A couple at bars. But nearly everything they knew about her was about the things she did. The activities and the causes and the fun. Because they didn’t talk. They partied. But Evan knew so much more than that. And she’d been wearing rain boots and mud and he still wanted her.

  Yeah, this was a different dish, no matter what condiments came to the bedroom with them.

  She rose on tiptoe and kissed him, sliding her hand into his hair. That was, evidently, enough encouragement, because he turned her and started walking her backward, toward the stairs. His tongue was insistent against hers, his hand gripping her hair gently, his other hand at her hip, steering her. She glanced at the piece of pie on the table by the door. Maybe they should grab that and bring it along. Just in case…

  He nudged her to take the first step up the staircase, and she took the first two backward before he stopped her. She was just high enough to put her breasts at mouth level for him and he leaned back to look.

  “God, I love your nipples,” he said, almost reverently. Then he took one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip, then sucking.

  Heat and need blossomed in her core and she moaned.

  He pulled back, reluctantly, his eyes on her breasts again as he said, “Okay, keep going. Second door on the left.”

  Okay, they’d leave the pie. She walked backward up the steps, aware of every bounce her breasts made, the ache between her legs also climbing as she went.

  Once they were in his room, Evan pointed at the bed. “Naked. Spread out. Now.”

  A shiver of desire went through her and she could have sworn her nipples tightened even further. She did love that commanding voice of his.

  She watched as Evan kicked off his jeans and dropped his
boxers. She blew out a breath at the sight of him fully naked. He was gorgeous. Wide, defined shoulders, thick biceps, sculpted abs, tight ass, big, long fingers and feet. And a thick, hard cock that made her inner muscles tighten and her belly heat.

  “Too many skirts on,” Evan said huskily, taking his cock in hand and giving it a stroke.

  Cori felt a little dizzy and wondered if her blood was all re-routing south the way men said theirs did. She swallowed and unbuttoned her skirt, letting it fall.

  “Panties too, Miss Carmichael,” Evan said, taking a step toward her, a wicked, sexy smile curling one side of his mouth.

  Miss Carmichael. Yes sir. She pushed her panties to the floor and kicked them away.

  “Bed. Spread out. Wide.”

  She did as she was told. She would have felt, strangely, a lot less exposed if she had some flavored body powder on or something. Not that it would have covered anything, but it would have been distracting, at least. The way Evan was looking at her, she didn’t think she’d have a freckle or a wrinkle unstudied. And she couldn’t help but think that this might be the first time she’d ever really been naked with a man.

  There was no liquor, no toys, no dirty talk, no lingerie. They weren’t in a shower or on a table or in the back seat of a limo. There was nothing adding to the moment—or distracting from it being just the two of them in a bedroom on a plain old bed. And it made her feel more exposed than she’d ever been.

  Evan climbed onto the bed beside her, just looking, his gaze roaming over her from head to toe. “Dammit, Cori, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Her feelings of vulnerability increased. More so than being handcuffed to a bedframe, more so than the experiment with nipple clamps, more so than the time she and Brad—or was it Brian?—had done it on a pool table in a back room of a bar. No one had been around, but there had been the chance of getting caught.

  Now with Evan, just the two of them, no garnish, no timeline, no leaving town tomorrow…and she didn’t just feel vulnerable. She was. Because he knew her. He knew things about her past that none of her other boyfriends ever had. He knew the ways she’d disappointed her father and family. He knew the things she wasn’t good at, the way she kept people at a distance, her insecurities.