Crazy Little Thing Called Love

by Molly Cannon

  “You accomplished that much. Come on. Let’s get back to the house where it’s warmer.” He stood up and held out his hand to drag her to her feet.

  She wasn’t going to argue with that plan. “Why were you chasing me down in the dark anyway?”

  “Well, I heard an engine earlier.”

  “That was probably me and my golf cart.”

  “But by the time I got down there I couldn’t see anything.”

  “What about your trusty lantern?”

  “I doused it when I heard a commotion way downstream. That must have been you, but I thought it might be some teenagers coming over to mess with me and the ham.”

  “Is that why you planned to stay out here?”

  “I heard rumors, but I mainly don’t like to leave the pit unattended.”

  “So, you thought I was a gang of teenage boys. Congratulations. You successfully foiled my attempted prank.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t taken the long way across the creek to get here I would have known right away it was you. Didn’t you bring a flashlight?”

  “It fell in the water. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “You could teach some of those early world explorers a thing or two. It’s what, thirty yards from your side of the creek to mine. Yet you managed to go about forty extra yards out of your way.”

  “I guess you aren’t interested in the food I brought with me?”

  “Who said I’m not interested?”

  “You’re too busy yanking my chain about how I got here instead of worrying about what delicacies I have in this backpack. That’s not like you, Donny Joe. Your appetite is your most reliable character trait.”

  They reached the house, and he hopped up onto the old back porch. “I apologize. And I’m tickled that you brought me some chow. What did you bring?”

  “Chow? What is this? A cattle drive?”

  “Are you going to feed me or what?”

  She followed him inside the house and found that he’d made it quite cozy. His sleeping bag was rolled out on an air mattress and he had several battery-powered lanterns sitting around, giving the room a golden glow. An inviting fire burned in the fireplace.

  “Welcome to my bedroom,” he said with a flourish. He took two steps to the right and grabbed a blanket from the back of an old wooden chair. He flapped it once and let it settle down to the floor. “And this is my dining room. Have a seat.”

  She looked down at her wet muddy clothes and announced, “I think I better get out of these.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he lowered himself to the blanket. “By all means. Don’t let me stop you. I’d hate for you to catch your death before the big Grand Opening.”

  She placed the backpack on the blanket and then stood up, removing her coat. He watched like she was performing the most erotic strip tease instead of shucking off a few muddy layers. She started on her shoes next. Particularly the one that had been submerged up over her ankle in the creek. She wasn’t sure she could feel her toes any longer. The shivering hit her just as she got her soggy socks off. Shaking like a leaf she hobbled over to the fireplace and spread her socks out to dry.

  Donny Joe was on his feet in an instant. He pulled the blanket closer to the fireplace. “Hey, you’re freezing.”

  “I’ve been warmer.” She smiled, thinking her lips might be a nice shade of blue.

  He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the blanket. “Why didn’t you say something, woman?”

  “It’s s-so silly. I accidently stepped in the creek when I got out of the canoe. I’m s-sure I’ll be fine now that I’m out of th-those wet th-things.” Her teeth chattered uncontrollably even as she assured him she was fit as a fiddle.

  “You should have told me, Etta.” He tone was stern as he sat her on the blanket and put her bare feet in his lap. He started rubbing them vigorously, getting the blood flowing again. Then he massaged her calves, digging his strong fingers into her tight muscles, his hands running up and down her legs.

  And suddenly she wasn’t cold anymore. She felt warm and lazy and without thinking snuggled her feet more securely into his lap. His hands froze and their eyes met as she discovered the effect she was apparently having on him, too. Quickly, she pulled her feet away, feeling like things were spinning out of control.

  “Thanks. I’m so much better now, and you still need to eat.”

  He wasn’t quite through, though. He got up and found another blanket, covering her feet and tucking it tightly around her. Then he picked up the backpack and settled down next to her. Closer than he needed to be, strictly speaking. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  “It’s just leftovers from supper. I didn’t know if you had a chance to eat, and I felt some responsibility since you were over here cooking the ham for the Inn. I mean, since my menu was such a flop, you were pretty much forced to do this.” She let her words trail off, knowing she was jabbering away, trying to fill in any empty spaces that might feel awkward. Like the one that yawned before her right now.

  He gave her a moment to wind down. “I was starving, Etta. You’re my very own angel of mercy. I was just about ready to dive into a can of sardines and a box of crackers, so I can pretty much guarantee that anything you brought will beat that by a country mile.”

  She smiled. “Exactly how long is a country mile?”

  “Oh, I’d say about the same distance it took you to row across the creek tonight.”

  “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

  “What fun would that be?” He pulled out a small box covered by a blue plaid cloth napkin. The box held several containers and he opened each one like it was Christmas morning and Santa had decided he’d been a very good boy indeed.

  “It’s not fancy. That’s chicken and dumplings. The other one is applesauce cake. Daphne and I made it together. And the other napkin has some cornbread wrapped in it.”

  He found a spoon she’d included and without any formality used it to take a big bite. “Oh, man, this is amazing.” He let out a moan before taking another big bite, and then he pounced on the cornbread with equal enthusiasm. “You are a woman after my own heart.”

  Her own heart swelled at his words. It was ridiculous how happy it made her to feed this man. It wasn’t as if other people didn’t appreciate her cooking. They did. Regularly, at her restaurant and too many other times to count. But Donny Joe always acted like she’d done him a great honor whenever she prepared a meal. And he savored each bite as if it might be his last.

  Maybe it was just part of his charm. He had an uncanny sense of knowing what made a woman happy. Not women in general, but individually. When he talked to a woman she felt like he knew her, understood her, and genuinely liked her. It was a rare gift.

  But then again she was a chef, so it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what would flip her switches. Love me, love my food. But the odd part was—and she wasn’t sure when she’d come to this conclusion—the odd part was she couldn’t detect a single false note with Donny Joe. Sure, his central goal in life was to charm the socks off of every woman he met, but there was no law against that. As long as a woman understood the game, no one got hurt.

  She stood up. “Donny Joe? I brought something else, too. Something just for you.”

  It was time to raise the stakes.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  What is it?” He kept eating. It might be more difficult to get his attention than she’d thought.

  She walked over to her discarded coat and unzipped the side pocket. The thin, mangled Valentine card rested neatly inside. It seemed like such a silly gesture now that she was faced with actually giving it to him. And as long as she let him finish eating she could probably get her message across without it. All she had to do was turn around and finish the strip tease she’d started earlier. But she’d started on this course and she might as well see it through. Taking a deep breath she took out the card. Besides the drawing of Gabe it had a picture of a silly cupi
d on it wearing a diaper and a sash that said “BE MINE.” She’d written “To: Donny Joe, From: Etta” on the back and inked a line reading “XOXOX” under her name. Nothing earth-shattering.

  Bravely, she turned to face him. He was the boy she would have never dared approach when she was younger, yet he was the man she’d learned to depend on for all sorts of things in the last few weeks. “Here, Donny Joe. I wanted you to have this.”

  She held it out to him, and he set the container of chicken and dumplings on the floor beside him. “A Valentine?” He turned it over, reading both sides. Then he laughed and looked at her like he didn’t know what it meant. “That’s real nice. Thanks, Etta.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s not a declaration of everlasting love. Daphne had an extra card left over from her school party.”

  “But it’s from you.” He stood up and moved closer. “So, what are you declaring, Etta?”

  She grabbed the card and turned it to face him. “Aren’t you fluent in Valentine language? See? XOXOX—kisses and hugs.”

  “You want to give me kisses and hugs?” He was much closer now, and she met his gaze directly.

  She shrugged. “I’m not asking for hearts and flowers.” She wandered over to his sleeping bag, trying to make her intentions clear.

  He let her go without following. “So, what are you saying? You and me. Right here. Right now. You think this is a good idea? Why do I think this is something that’s going to come back and bite me in the rear end later?”

  She laughed. “When did you get so cautious, Donny Joe? I thought you were a man of action.”

  He ran a hand through his tawny hair, obviously taken aback. “I’m trying to be levelheaded. We still have to work together.” He crossed the room to stand in front of her. The firelight turned his hair to rich gold and his green eyes glinted with obvious desire. But still he didn’t make a move. Then he put his fingers under her chin, tilting her head back, studying her face. “Are you sure about this, Etta?”

  “Please don’t try to make this complicated, Donny Joe. I like you, and I want to sleep with you. Isn’t that good enough?”

  A shadow crossed his face. Maybe it was only the flickering flames, but then he winked and smiled that ever-loving smile. The one that made all the girls swoon.

  “Sure thing, sunshine.” He sat down on the sleeping bag and pulled her into his lap. “I’ll take the first kiss now, please.” Docilely, he waited until she obliged, but as soon as her lips met his, he took over. He kissed her like he couldn’t get enough of her. His mouth was demanding and hungry on hers, moving from her mouth to her neck and back again. She couldn’t think. Hot, crazy feelings swamped her, threatened to plow her underground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on while he had his way with her. Holding on while the insanity of it, the pure pleasure of it all seeped into her bones, melting her inhibitions like butter under the noon day sun.

  He arranged her on top of the sleeping bag and started working on her buttons. He unbuttoned one shirt only to discover another underneath. And a T-shirt and a camisole under that. “Good Lord, woman. If your idea was to get seduced you might consider wearing fewer clothes next time.”

  She smiled, wondering already if there would be a next time. “It’s cold outside. I needed layers. You aren’t going to let a few layers slow you down, are you, lover boy?”

  “Never fear. I’m motivated to keep working at it. And undressing you with my eyes will now be my new favorite hobby. It will go on, and on, and on.”

  “Oh hush. Please kiss me, Donny Joe.” He seemed happy to oblige, and when he wasn’t doing that he laughed and explored and found new territory to nibble and lick and tease. She’d never laughed while she was making love before, but Donny Joe made love the same way he lived his life. He enjoyed himself, playing and teasing, but never let her doubt for a minute how much he wanted her.

  Pulling off her jeans and investigating the dimples above her knee like he was a detective searching for clues. He was thorough while tracing the line of her thighs up and up, allowing his fingertips to skim skin just under her panties. She arched her back, reaching for his touch, moaning his name. He smiled and caught the sound, claiming credit for what he was doing to her with another kiss. She grew impatient and pulled his shirt over his head. And stopped to stare. He was a stunning man. The firelight only highlighted his muscled body. His flat stomach, his beautiful broad chest, those strong arms tapering down to wide wrists and fine hands capable of manufacturing magic. He rolled away from her and removed his jeans. Her underwear disappeared, too, and then he was poised over her, all laughter gone for now.

  She was blanketed by his long lean body and it felt like being on the edge of a glorious danger, a magnificent risk. It felt like the perfect place to live the rest of her life. Her own body hummed with need, wanting more of him. He kissed her jaw and pushed inside. Her thighs fell open to welcome him, while she wrapped her legs around his. Her toes scraped down the back of his calves, finding more skin on skin contact. She met each thrust more than halfway. She closed her eyes, lost in the flood of sensations, but then she opened them again to see his face. He whispered meaningless sounds, murmured naughty suggestions, and moaned something that sounded like her name. They were caught up in a race now, moving together, but he seemed determined to have her finish first. She gave up, surrendered all control as he pushed her over the finish line. His deep bellow proved she hadn’t left him far behind. He collapsed on top of her, and she savored the weight of his body on hers. He tried to move, but she trapped him with her hands, rubbing her hands down his back and over his round rear end.

  “I’m squashing you.” His voice was a low rumble in her ear.

  “You’re helping me come back down to earth. After that I might just float away.”

  He lifted his head so he could look at her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m better than okay.” She lifted her arms above her head, stretching and brushing her sensitive breasts against his chest. Shivers rocked her whole body. “I’m magnificent.”

  “Yes, ma’am, you are.” His eyes were smoky, hot, and possessive.

  She’d been referring to the way he’d made her feel, but she took a deep breath and simply let his words sink into her pores. She accepted every message he was sending as the gospel truth. On this night, wrapped in his arms, she was a magnificent woman.

  And she’d barely gotten started.

  Much, much later she lay across his chest feeding him cake. He kept finding inventive ways to show his gratitude so it took a ridiculously long time between bites.

  “Mmm. God, that’s delicious. If you ever make this for another living soul I’ll be insanely jealous.”

  “There’s still half a cake at the house. At least there was when I left. Mr. Nelson might have eaten the rest. I wonder how much he was eating when he lived alone, because now he eats everything that isn’t nailed down.” She suddenly worried that she shouldn’t have mentioned Noah Nelson. She didn’t want anything bad to creep into her night with Donny Joe.

  He must have sensed her concern. “It’s okay. I’m honestly not mad at him or anything.”

  “But this afternoon you seemed upset to see him.”

  “It’s just that he’s been practically stalking me all these years, trying to make amends. He feels bad for letting me take the blame all those years ago, and no matter what I do he won’t quit feeling guilty about it.”

  She scowled. “He should feel guilty about it.”

  “It got worse after his son got killed in Iraq.”

  “Oh, and he was one of the boys you took the blame for?”

  “Yeah. It’s like he thought his death was some kind of punishment for the way he’d lived his life. But I can’t take it anymore. I can’t be his penance year after year.”

  “Gee, now I feel bad.”

  “You don’t have to. I liked that you came to my defense.” He pulled her to him and kissed her sweetly. “So anyway, when I found out he’ll be
living next door now, my first reaction was to say hell no.”

  “That’s understandable. So, I shouldn’t fire him or poison his food.”

  He shook his head. “No, that would make Beulah very sad. She seems to be fond of him.”

  Etta widened her eyes. “You noticed that, too? They spend every waking minute together. I’m pretty sure there is something brewing. Can I still be mad at him for the way he treated you?”

  “It all happened a long time ago, and it seems pointless after all he’s done to punish himself.”

  She rested her chin on his chest. “I don’t know if I’m ready to let him off the hook. Maybe I could nurse a tiny little grudge on your behalf. It will be our secret.”

  His fingers played with her hair. “If you insist. Hardly anyone’s ever taken up for me like that before.”

  She propped herself up on one elbow. “Really?”

  “Well, your grandmother did, and mine did, too, in her own way.”

  “What was she like?” He’d never said much about her.

  “Nothing like your Grammy Hazel or Beulah, I can tell you that.” He put his hands behind his head. “She was a mean old woman who lived life by her own set of rules. She chewed tobacco, swore like a sailor, and drank a fifth of whiskey every week. But she took me in when my father dumped me on her doorstep, and gave me a home and food to eat. Most importantly, she loved me when I didn’t think another soul on the planet gave a damn what happened to me.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Around Daphne’s age. I was almost nine.”

  She tried to picture him at that age. “Is that why you’re so sweet with her?”

  “Who, Daphne? She’s just a kid. You think I’m sweet with her?”

  “You know you are. You’re letting her follow you around like a puppy, she’s taking you to school for show and tell, and now I just heard you’re coaching her soccer team.”