Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel)

by Scott, Lisa

  She needed to meet with the girls to figure this one out.

  THE THREE of them were tucked in a booth in the back of the Jelly Jar.

  “Wait, now you’re setting Brad up with the Woman of the Month?” Tonya looked confused as she finished off her milkshake.

  Jeanne waved her hand. “Of the month, of the week, whatever it takes.”

  “Seriously?” Kate asked. “Why? Why now?”

  Jeanne shrugged. She wasn’t sure she could fess up.

  Tonya narrowed one eye at her. “You say you don’t want him—but we know you do. And now you’re trying to set him up.” One eyebrow popped up. “The lady’s protesting a bit too much.”

  “What’s going on?” Kate asked. “Really.”

  She sighed long and hard. “Fine. I’ll admit it. I love him. There, I said it.” She covered her eyes. “And I slept with him last night.” She peeked through her fingers.

  Kate dropped her fork, and Tonya let out a whoop.

  “Hot damn, girl!”

  “I knew you’d break sooner or later, living under the same roof. It’s practically a law of nature,” Kate said, putting her arm around Jeanne. “Enough alone time in a room with a hot guy, and you’re done for.”

  Jeanne stirred her drink with her straw. “Yeah, well it was short-lived. We got in a big fight this morning about the whole baby issue. It will never, ever work between us.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to shake away the memories. Then she plucked an ice cube out of her soda and started chewing on it, nervously.

  “I can’t have him, and the sooner he isn’t available, the better for both of us. Trust me. So please, think. Who would be perfect for Brad?”

  “Besides you?” Kate asked.

  Jeanne dropped her head back against the seat. “No, I’m anything but perfect. I want kids, he doesn’t. Case closed, no room for compromise. I finally got it into my thick head that this is a dead-end relationship, and I need to do a U-turn and fast.”

  “If you say so.” Tonya shrugged. “Well, if you’re serious, I got a new girl down at the salon a few weeks back. Lily Phelps. Just moved here to be with her grandma. You know, Nancy Phelps, just outside of town?”

  Kate and Jeanne nodded.

  “Guess she broke her hip and needs someone to help care for her, so Lily came to town. She’s been going on about her sorry love life since the day she got here.”

  Jeanne tipped up her chin. “Is she pretty?”

  Tonya snorted. “Do bees like honey? Are perm fumes noxious? Do I have a sweet tooth worthy of the Guinness Book of Records?”

  “All right, all right, I get it. She’s pretty,” Jeanne said.

  Tonya frowned. “And curves I would kill for.”

  Jeanne crossed her arms and looked down at her non-existent chest. “Tonya, you have more curves than the Charlotte Speedway.”

  She grunted. “Not like Lily. We’ve picked up quite a few new male clients thanks to her.”

  Jeanne narrowed her eyes, fighting back the acid roiling in her stomach just thinking about Brad dating this curvy, pretty Lily, a woman kind enough to come here and care for her grandma, and hot enough to lure men from miles afar like a bowl of fresh catnip.

  But what was Jeanne going to do? It was hopeless. Maybe someday she’d be over him. If she saw him happily engaged or married, wouldn’t she have to be happy for him? Wouldn’t she have to move on and wish him the best, and maybe put together a real future for herself? “Oh heck, go ahead and ask her if she’s interested.”

  Tonya and Kate gave each other a look.

  “I’m serious.”

  Tonya shrugged. “Okay. Let’s all meet out Saturday night at The Hideaway. You bring the man.”

  “It’s a date. For Brad, hopefully,” Jeanne said. Guess she was just going to have to get used to that pit in her stomach, ’cause it wasn’t going away. It was getting worse.

  BRAD WAS stuffing a stack of boxer shorts in his duffle bag when Jeanne came home. Damn. He’d hoped to finish this before she got back. And slink off like a coward. Well, whatever it took.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m going to sleep at the office.”

  “The hell you are.” She took him by the hand and led him to the couch.

  He looked at their hands locked together, and she pulled hers away.

  “Last night was a big mistake,” she said. “We both know that. It won’t happen again.”

  Just because they wouldn’t end up together didn’t make him want her any less. He needed to get out. “Last night was pretty great, J. It’s hard to be around you.”

  “But you know and I know it is never going to work out between us.” She lowered her voice. “I understand that now. Really. I know where you’re coming from. We slept together, we got that out of our system, and now we can move on.”

  He was silent, not quite believing what she was saying.

  “It’s true. I was wrong. I don’t want you, Brad.” She wouldn’t look at him.

  It took a moment before he could say, “For real?”

  She nodded. “And we can’t destroy our friendship and our business relationship. So, there’s no use running away from each other.” She stuck out her hand. “Friends?”

  He shrugged. “Guess it’s gonna have to be.”

  He looked into her eyes but didn’t see the sparkle he loved so much.

  Then she smiled wide. “Now what about Mr. May?”

  He blinked. “I thought I’d have to harass you into it again. Wasn’t sure I was up to that this month.”

  “Nope. I said I’d do it. How about this Friday?”

  PRETENDING TO BE excited about Mr. May the rest of the week was taking its toll. While Jeanne got ready for her date, Brad sat on the couch watching a ball game. She did her best to seem enthused, as though her night with Brad had been tucked away and filed under memories to be forgotten. Hopefully, the one-two punch she had planned this weekend would put this nonsense to rest. She’d go on a date tonight and then introduce him to Lily tomorrow. Game over.

  He kept glancing into the bathroom. “Do you always take this long to get ready? I could have replaced all the plumbing in there in the time you’re taking.” There was a teasing note to his voice.

  “Surely one of your old girlfriends got ready in front of you before.”

  “Guess I never paid attention. Does this mean you’re really interested in this guy?”

  “This means my hair isn’t wavy enough to be cute and isn’t straight enough to look good. So I have to use my flat iron. Then there’s the makeup, multiple wardrobe changes. Be glad you’re a guy.”

  “I’m sure your date will appreciate it.”

  “I hope so.” Truth was, this was just show for Brad, so he’d think she was game. She had zero desire to go on this date.

  JEANNE COULD’VE written one hell of an online dating profile for Mr. May. Zed Martin was tall, knew the stats for NASCAR’s top twenty drivers—a real turn-on for half the gals in North Carolina—but also canned peach preserves and rescued abused Rottweilers. And he was hot to boot. Damn. A manly, sensitive, jam maker was about as common as a purple unicorn in these parts. She should be batting her lashes and showing some thigh.

  But nothing.

  After two drinks at the bar, she grabbed her purse. “Zed, you know that obnoxious saying, ‘It’s not you, it’s me?’ We’ve got a major case of that going on here. Tell Brad we had a nice time, but just didn’t hit it off.”

  Zed crossed his arms, an amused smile creeping onto his face. “You’re not even going to give me a chance to charm you over dinner?”

  “I just don’t want to waste your time. You’ve got at least four women in this bar watching your every move.”

  He hitched an eyebrow. “Hadn’t noticed. I’ve been watching you.”

  She sighed. Clearly her hormones had packed up and left her if she wasn’t responding to this kind of attention. “There’s a blonde at ten o’clock licking her
lips as we speak.”

  He laughed softly and shook his head. “So, you’re not joking. You’re really not into this?”

  She pressed her eyes shut, paused long enough to see if any kind of longing was kicking in, then said, “Nope. Long story. Like I said, it’s not you, it’s me.” She hopped off the barstool. “No, go on, have fun. But don’t tell Brad I didn’t make it through dinner.”

  “I’ve never forced myself on a woman, and I’m not about to start. No worries. I’ll tell Brad we had fun, but no sparks. Although it’ll be a lie on my part.”

  She shook his hand. “Nice meeting you, Zed. Hope sparks fly with some of these gals.”

  “They usually do. Nice meeting you, Jeanne. Call me if you change your mind. I’m sure I could reignite my sparks for you real fast.”

  She could feel his gaze on her as she walked out of the restaurant, but knew he’d have some company very soon. She drove to the movie theatre in Whitesville, ordered a large popcorn since she hadn’t had dinner, and then suffered through a weepy romance while notching up her cholesterol level. Neither left her feeling good. She made sure the lights were out in her house before she crept in after midnight.

  Chapter 14

  BRAD WAS WAXING his truck Saturday morning, wondering when Jeanne was going to wake up and how much fun she’d had the night before. She sure had looked dynamite, and she hadn’t come home early, so that was saying something. Then she sauntered outside in low riding jeans and a short top that revealed a flash of skin. Damn. He almost dropped his rag. He’d meant to kiss that sexy belly button thoroughly the other night, but he’d been busy with other things. Now, he’d never have another chance.

  “So? How’d it go?”

  She shrugged. “Nice guy, but no sparks.”

  “Then we’ll look ahead to June. I promised you a great guy, and I’m going to find you one.”

  “Super. Can’t wait. Until then, a bunch of us are going out tonight.”

  She tucked her hands in the pockets of her worn jeans and smiled, rocking back on her bare feet. He’d meant to kiss those toes of hers, too. Too late now.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’ll be fun,” she said. “Tonya and Kate and some other gals are coming. Please say yes.”

  He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Sure.”

  At least with witnesses, he could keep his hands off her. Because his brain had forgotten to pass on the message to his hormones that he and Jeanne were just going to be friends.

  HE WALKED into the bar, and his gaze immediately fell on her, laughing over a joke with her friends. He sucked in a breath and slapped on a smile and walked up to the group. “Looks like I missed a good one.”

  He thought he saw a look pass between Tonya and Kate, but couldn’t be sure.

  “I was recounting my bad set ups,” Jeanne said. “Lily here is new in town and hasn’t heard the horror stories yet.”

  He looked over at the petite, raven-haired girl in a tight tank top and even tighter jeans. She certainly had the body to fill them out. But standing there next to Jeanne and her long, lean, graceful figure? Hell, a contingent of Playboy models probably couldn’t distract him. But he stuck out his hand anyway and smiled.

  “Hi Lily, I’m Brad.”

  Another look between Tonya and Kate. He was sure of it. Did Jeanne just flash her eyes at them, too, he wondered?

  Lily turned her big amber eyes up at him and smiled. “Hi, Brad. My, you sure are a tall drink of water.” She giggled a flirty little laugh and covered her mouth. “Gosh, you can tell I’ve been living with my grandma. That’s something she’d say.”

  “Brad’s six-foot-four,” Jeanne said, looking at him and then snapping her gaze away.

  “That’s a whole lot of good-looking man.” Lily quirked an eyebrow as she stared at him. “Maybe I should’ve gotten myself to Willowdale a lot sooner than this.”

  Brad tried not to laugh. She was laying it on thicker than his beef gravy.

  “Lily’s working at my salon. Doesn’t she have the prettiest eyes?” Tonya asked.

  “She sure does,” Brad said, forcing another smile. “What color are they?”

  Lily laughed, kicking back one foot. “What color would you say they are? Three guys at a bar once got in a fight trying to decide. I think the guy who guessed cognac won.” She shrugged.

  Everyone was quiet until Brad said, “Wow. Well, I’d say cognac is a good guess.”

  “I need a refill,” Jeanne said, heading for the bar.

  “Yeah, me too,” said Kate, and Tonya followed.

  Damn. He hadn’t seen this coming. He was being set up. Jeanne was trying to shake him off. She’d been serious about moving on.

  He smiled at Lily, who was still beaming at him, rubbing her finger along the rim of her wine glass. At least she was cute. Very cute.

  He propped his arm up along the wooden fence that lined the room, like a corral. Part of the hokey Western theme. “So, how come I’ve never met you before, Lily?”

  “Just moved to town. I work with Tonya, and I guess she felt sorry for me, being single and new here. So she dragged me out tonight.” She looked him up and down. “I’m glad she did.”

  Any other guy would have been doing a mental high five. But not him. However, having a girlfriend—even something casual—might make things easier between him and Jeanne. He sighed and gave in to the inevitable. “Can I get you a drink?”

  She clasped her hands in front of her and grinned up at him. “That would be great.”

  TRYING NOT TO cry in a bar is really hard, Jeanne thought, unable to keep her eyes off Brad and Lily. It was like watching a car crash. She couldn’t look away. Felt just as bad, too.

  Tonya nudged her with her elbow. “You okay?”

  Jeanne nodded then shook her head and shrugged. “It’s for the best.”

  Kate put her arm around her and squeezed.

  “I’ll be okay, guys. I’ve hit bottom, but I’m still standing.” Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d believe it.

  “Jeanne, there you are!” Her sister Becca pushed through the crowd with her boyfriend in tow.

  “Hey, Becca.” This is interesting, Jeanne thought. She and Rick hardly ever got out. Good for them.

  Becca held up her left hand, wiggled her fingers to show off her sparkly new ring, and squealed. “Rick proposed, and I just had to find you and tell you.” She wrapped her arms around Jeanne and squeezed the breath out of her.

  “Shut your mouth! I can’t believe it!” Jeanne closed her eyes and squeezed back. “I’m so happy for you!”

  And she was. Someone should have a happy ending, and her little sister certainly deserved it. She opened her eyes and spotted Brad across the bar watching her. A shiver shot through her as his gaze sucked her in. She looked away and examined Becca’s ring.

  “It’s gorgeous. When are you going to get married?” Jeanne asked, doing her best not to imagine her and Brad starring in this very same scenario.

  Becca clasped her hands under her chin. “In August. And we want you and Brad to cater it.” She bounced in place, smiling.

  “Wow, that’s just three months away.”

  “I know. There’s a lot of work to do, but we can pull it off.” She wrapped her arms around Jeanne in a death grip. Then Becca waved Brad over.

  He walked their way, Lily on his heels. She’d already dug in her talons and didn’t look like she was gonna let go. Can’t blame her. Jeanne gritted her teeth, even though this was what she’d been rooting for just moments before. Self-inflicted schizophrenia, that’s what this was.

  “Hey Becca, what’s going on?” Brad asked.

  She flashed him her ring.

  “Damn girl, that’s great. Congratulations!” He hugged her and shook Rick’s hand.

  “You two have to cater the wedding. It’s this August.” Becca didn’t seem to notice the new 36 DD accessory attached to his side.

  Brad looked at Jeanne then back at Becca. “Of
course we will. We can have it right in our banquet room. It’ll be the bash of the summer, I promise.”

  She hugged him again and then hugged Jeanne, and Jeanne couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten so many hugs in one night.

  “Oh, if only you two could be next …” Becca’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m going to get some champagne.” Then she skipped off to the bar.

  Lily’s glance darted between Jeanne and Brad, and she wrapped her hand around his bicep. “Brad and I are going out tomorrow.”

  Brad’s eyebrows arched, and he looked down at her. “We are?”

  “Yes. I just decided.”

  She giggled, although it sounded more like a cackle to Jeanne, even though the girl seemed sweet as pie. Yeah, rhubarb pie without any sugar …

  Brad caught Jeanne’s eye again, but she snapped her head away. So many looks were darting and zooming around the room like frightened swallows caught in a barn.

  Brad paused before he said, “Sure, why not? Let’s go out. It’ll be fun.”

  Jeanne tried to take a deep breath, but the air wouldn’t fill her lungs. So this was it. It was happening. He was moving on from her.

  Exactly like you said you wanted, fool!

  Jeanne blinked and tried to make her lips move into a smile. She had no idea if she’d pulled it off.

  “That’s great news.” She motioned over her shoulder. “I’m going to go. I’ve got …” She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “I’ve got to go buy Becca … a wedding magazine or something. A congratulations card.” She pushed past the throng around her, trying not to run, praying her wobbly knees wouldn’t give out on her—or the cheap heels she’d bought in Whitesville. Never could resist a sale.

  She turned and looked back. Tonya and Kate were heading toward her. She shook her head, and they stopped. She wanted to be alone. No one could soothe this hurt. She was going to have to work through it herself. If that was even possible.

  She drove straight home and flopped on her bed without changing out of her clothes. She pulled the sheets around her and remembered Brad and her wrapped up in them just a week ago. That brought a fresh round of tears. Will he even make it home tonight? She didn’t know which would be worse, having to face him, or knowing he was with another woman.