by Dianne Miley
At last, the swan waddled off toward her sandwich. Its beak peeled off the wrapper as if it had done this dozens of times, and snatched a bite of the stolen meal.
Once it began feasting, her handsome savior retrieved her purse and water bottle. She cringed as he gathered pink lip gloss, Juicy Fruit gum, and violet eye liner from the grass and stuffed them into her tiny purse. Thank goodness her tampons were hidden in a zippered pocket.
The sting of humiliation vanished when he smiled at her keys. Was that a dimple in his right cheek?
“Chevy fan, huh?” He grinned.
Definitely a dimple. “Uh, yeah. I have a Camaro.”
He nodded his approval and dropped the keys into her purse.
Butterflies danced in her belly. The attraction frightened her. She’d had male approval before.
“I drive a Chevy too.” Brett spoke with one eye on the swan, reminding her of the way her high school prom date had eyed Layla Gallagher. Laura had refused to visit the No-Tell Motel with Ronny Tillman, so he’d left with that tramp.
Laura had walked home alone, three miles on dark country roads.
She pushed away the memory, but she let Alton Moyer creep back into her mind. Creep was the operative word. Her thoughts fast-forwarded to Jake, convincing her men couldn’t be trusted. Fresh anxiety made her grip the railing around the gazebo.
“Are you okay?” Brett asked from the grass below.
“Uh, yeah,” she stammered, watching him skeptically as he monitored the feasting swan.
Brett had taken Sally Hunter to prom. He dated her after they graduated. Rumor had it that sometime over the summer he’d told her he couldn’t afford to date anymore. He needed the money for his race car.
Sally left for college that fall and never returned. Brett worked for his father a while, and left for college the next year. Or so she’d heard.
It didn’t matter why he’d come back. She certainly wasn’t interested in a guy more devoted to his car than his woman.
Literally risking his butt, he headed toward the swan to scoop up her hairbrush and wallet. He crammed them into her purse and tried unsuccessfully to zip the gaping leather.
A giggle bubbled in her throat. His sheepish smile dimpled that smooth cheek. His short dark hair shone in the sun as he climbed the steps and handed her the bulging purse. She couldn’t breathe.
Deep blue eyes sparkled at her. His skin glowed, but he’d missed a smudge of grease below his ear. She wondered how that earlobe would taste. Where had that thought come from? Her face burned as she slipped the purse strap onto her shoulder.
“Thank you.”
His smile flashed white teeth between full, moist lips. Kissable lips. And she wanted to kiss him right now.
“You’re welcome.” Sexy beyond belief, his caring smile subdued the laughter in his voice. “Sorry I couldn’t save your sandwich.”
“But you saved me from the evil swan.”
His laugh tickled her ears. The perfect gentleman, he looked into her eyes, not down her shirt. Thank heaven because he might see her heart pounding against her chest, making her hope he was different, tempting her to take a chance.
She backed away. Why did Brett have to be here now, when she needed to be alone? She couldn’t handle another tall-dark-and-handsome today. Especially not one as kind and virtuous as Brett Mitchell, disguised as a guy who cared.
Lilacs For Laura
Lilacs For Laura
Chapter 2—Tongue Lashing
Brett studied the flustered young woman. Tousled blond hair, wide blue eyes, and slightly-open pink lips gave her a heart-stopping beauty. He could eat up those lips, but had lost all interest in food. That was a first.
Girls like this didn’t stumble into engineering classes, and certainly not into the garage. He had to get to know her.
“So much for my lunch.” She nervously twirled her hair.
The swan gulped down her grilled chicken, lettuce, tomato and a dry brown bun. Maybe she’d stick around for a tasty sandwich.
“Lucky for you, I have an extra.” He pointed out a large, wrapped package on the gazebo bench. Lucky for her, it wasn’t health food, either.
“That’s an extra?” She furrowed lovely brows.
“Yeah. I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.” Two minutes ago he’d devoured one sandwich and relished biting into the second. Now he’d rather watch her luscious lips wrap around it.
She stared at his biceps. Then her gaze snapped back to the sandwich, as if she realized he’d caught her gawking.
“You’re welcome to have it.” He wagged the Italian sub toward her. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Well, yes.” She tugged the wallet from her purse and her hairbrush fell to the floor. She scooped it up before he could.
Why did women carry all that crap?
“How much do I owe you?” she asked.
“Nothing. I insist.” Although mildly offended, Brett admired her determination to take care of herself. Not to mention her organizational skills. She rearranged her purse until it no longer bulged.
Handing her the sandwich, his fingers grazed her warm skin. Tingles shot clear to his toes.
“Thank you.” She seemed hesitant to accept the handout.
“Have a seat, before your lunch break’s over.”
She smelled like the park’s blooming lavender flowers. Bending to sit, she smoothed her skirt over her curves, sending his pulse into overdrive.
It took every effort to resist staring. His yearning blazed into desire, and he didn’t even know her name.
“I’m Brett, by the way.”
“Yeah, I see.” She nodded toward his name plastered on his shirt like a neon sign.
“Oh, yeah.” He cringed, hating the uniform more than ever.
“I remember you from school. I was a year behind you.”
“Oh.” She went to school with him? Better yet, she remembered him? “I’m sorry,” he fumbled. “I was preoccupied with cars back then.” That hadn’t changed, but how could he have overlooked this beauty?
“I’m Laura James.”
His eyes bugged out. “Rachel’s little sister?” The quiet, horse-riding girl in a ponytail and jeans?
“Yeah.” She nodded uneasily. The sisters had similar hair and features, but wild Rachel was tall and slender. Shy little Laura was downright voluptuous.
“Nice to meet you, Laura.” He held out his hand in courtesy, but really just wanted to touch her again. Her eyes widened as she took his hand. Did she feel the sparks too?
“What happened to your hand?” She stared at his swollen, bleeding knuckles.
“Oh.” He’d completely forgotten. “Smashed it at work. No big deal.” Funny, it was a very big deal twenty minutes ago.
She lifted his grease-stained fingers, tenderly inspecting the afflicted knuckles. Her touch had him drifting to heaven.
“You’d better bandage that so it doesn’t get infected.” She dropped his fingers, leaving his hand cold.
“Yeah.” He noticed a bandage on her finger. “And what happened to you?”
“Oh. I pricked myself on a rose.” Her eyes dimmed and her voice grew heavy. “Well, actually a thorn.”
“You work at the flower shop?”
“Yes. Rosebuds is my family’s business.” As she smiled, her eyes deepened from blue to violet.
“What beautiful eyes,” he blurted in amazement. “I’ve never seen that color before.”
She blushed and looked away, skittish like a frightened rabbit. Brett mentally kicked himself.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he stammered. “Please, go ahead and eat.” He offered an apologetic smile.
Uncertainty shadowed her expression. Finally, she took a dainty bite with those delicious lips.
The smell of fresh bread created a low grumble in his belly. He hoped she didn’t hear it.
But her gaze shot up at him. She quickly swallowed. “You’re still hungry.” She lifted the paper around the sandwi
ch.
“No, I’m fine.” His stomach growled loudly in protest.
“I can’t eat your lunch.” Her face appeared stricken.
“Tell ya what—let’s split it,” he suggested.
She paused a second before saying, “Okay.” She turned her shapely knees toward him, offering the sandwich on her lap.
He reached for the untouched half. Her slightly curved belly narrowed to a slim waist. He dragged his eyes away before he dared look further up.
Then he slid toward the end of the bench. Laura released a breath. So she felt the magnetism too.
They ate silently. Brett’s stomach quieted, but his heart raced. Watching her eat, he enjoyed the food like he’d never imagined. And he always enjoyed food.
She placed the last morsel in her mouth. After washing it down with a sip of water, she wadded the paper and stood.
“Thanks, again.” She motioned toward the north end of the square. “I’d better get back to work.”
“I’ll walk you there.” He stood quickly. “I hear the swans can be brutal.”
A smile lit her face. “No thanks, I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t mind, really.”
But she moved down the steps, fast.
“Maybe I’ll see you here on Monday,” he called after her.
She looked back with a reluctant smile, and her eyes shone blue in the sun. Did they change with the light or her mood?
Long hair swayed above her kicky skirt as she cut to the sidewalk near the road, avoiding the park and the swans. She ran past the old-fashioned barber shop, a clothing store for old men, and the dinky shoe store. In front of the tiny café—the one and only place in town to grab lunch—she hustled over the bridge and past the tearoom for little old ladies. Then she disappeared behind the huge bushes with purple flowers.
He breathed in her scent one last time before checking the clock on the town hall. He’d been gone almost forty minutes.
Reality smacked him in the face. Why did he meet her now? When he planned to leave this boring town the first chance he got?
Maybe he should let her be. Starting a relationship would only hurt them both.
Just like he’d hurt Sally Hunter. And she’d hurt him.
He couldn’t stay here, working for his father. And he couldn’t find a job in his field—not in this small town.
Dejected and confused, he walked to his car and prepared for the tongue-lashing that was sure to come.
****
Laura rushed from the gazebo with time to spare. Brett Mitchell awakened desires she didn’t know she had. His valiant rescue had hooked her from the beginning. The sincerity in his eyes and the warm magnetism of his touch reeled her in.
Once she realized her heart was on the line, she’d choked and squirmed like a fish out of water and fought to get away.
Warning bells blared in her head as she ran across the street and neared the bridge. Handsome, charming men couldn’t be trusted. They cheated, lied, and broke your heart.
Away from the shade of the gardens, sunshine warmed her like Brett’s touch. Their chemistry had sparked so suddenly, and so strongly, she’d nearly dissolved right on that bench. Thank goodness he slid over before she’d done something stupid.
She didn’t want to believe he was like the others. Yet he’d hurt Sally. So Laura ran when she really wanted to stay. She whizzed past the barber shop where her father had gotten his first haircut and quaint shops where merchants knew their customers by name. Past the cozy café that served better lunches than any fast-food joint, she approached the bridge over Crystal Creek. The rough cobblestones forced her to slow down.
Brett’s parting words echoed through her mind.
‘Maybe I’ll see you here on Monday.’
He had looked at her in a subtle, flattering way. He didn’t leer like Jake Santos, Alton Moyer, or Ronny Tillman.
On the other side of the bridge, she glanced back at the south end of the square. Beyond the lilacs, white gingerbread framed the empty gazebo. With surprise at the depth of her disappointment, she moved on.
Aromas of cinnamon, vanilla, and yeast beckoned from the tea room and bakery north of the bridge. Resisting temptation, Laura hurried past the display window filled with chocolate éclairs, not wanting to ruin her figure.
As she passed the window of Myrtle’s Dress Shop, a sapphire blue dress caught her eye. What was it about that color?
Mayor Daniels burst out the door with a Cheshire cat grin.
“Why, Laura, good to see you!” he boomed.
“Mr. Mayor,” she stammered. “I was going to stop and see you this afternoon.”
“Oh? Don’t tell me your sink’s still backing up—” He switched into landlord mode.
“No, no. The plumber fixed it just fine.”
“Good. I spend more time keeping the town’s tenants happy than I do running town hall,” he grumbled.
Her stomach flipped. She opened her mouth but the words wouldn’t come out. She had to do this.
“Sorry, dear.” He patted her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. Rent’s what pays my salary and keeps our taxes low. I realize that. So what can I do for you, Laura?”
She blinked. “I...I have to give up the apartment.”
“Give up the apartment? Honey, you worked your fingers to the bone fixing up that apartment. It’s perfect for you—right above Rosebuds . Why on earth would you give it up?”
Regret filled her heart and her throat constricted. “Business has been slow since that fancy new flower shop opened in Springfield,” she rasped. “I’m taking a pay cut until business stabilizes.” The words sounded hollow, but she had to hope the business would recover. She stared at her lavender-polished toes.
“How long do you think that’ll be?” he asked with concern.
Looking up hopefully, she answered, “Six months or so?”
His features fell. “I can’t hold it that long. Council will have my head if we lose six months rent.”
“I understand.” She didn’t want to, but she did. Unlike most towns, Crystal Falls was run like an efficient business. And she knew all about that.
“When are you moving out?” he asked gently.
“If you’ll prorate the month of May, I can be out this weekend.” Her heart twisted.
“Of course,” he replied, but furrowed his brow as if to say, that bad? “Fortunately, my nephew has been waiting for an available apartment. With the apartments on the square being the only rentals in town, most young people move to Springfield.”
“Yes, I know.” Only too well.
“He’ll be thrilled to get an apartment that’s fresh and updated. He expected to wait until one of the elderly tenants passed on. Most of them have cats, and need to be aired out.”
“I know.” Laura frowned. She had that exact experience, but still missed the lady who’d been her friend since childhood.
Looking suddenly ashamed, the mayor must have read her thoughts. “I’ll issue a refund check this afternoon.”
“Thank you.”
“Now take care of yourself, dear.” He looked at the dress she’d been staring at. “That blue would be perfect on you.” With a wink, he continued down the sidewalk.
Yes, it would.
Impulsively, Laura pushed open the heavy door. Classical music flooded the sidewalk, along with smells of starched fabric, fresh linen, and lavender potpourri.
Myrtle Winthrop’s face lifted in a pinched smile like the cameo on her collar.
“Why, Laura, how can I help you?” Her high-pitched voice turned sickly sweet. Hands folded in front of her, she wore a lacy white blouse and full black skirt. Her shoes pointed straight ahead in unison as if glued together.
Trepidation filled Laura’s chest. Myrtle irritated her, but she did run a reputable business.
“Hi, Mrs. Winthrop.” Laura forced a smile. “May I try on the blue dress in the window?”
“Oh, that’s a lovely dress for a young lady like you.”
She measured Laura’s figure with her eyes. “A size 6?”
“Uh, yes.” She felt more violated than impressed.
“Well, you should fill it out nicely.” Myrtle shot her an appreciative glance. “You have a lovely figure.”
“Thank you.” Laura might have been flattered if the woman wasn’t such a hypocrite. How differently she acted with the prospect of a sale.
The dress fit her perfectly—the style, the cut, the length—especially the color. After changing, she took it to the counter and dug out the money left from her last paycheck.
Her last paycheck. Today’s check would barely cover her car expenses. She’d sent the rest to the garden wholesaler.
Eyeing the dress, she knew she shouldn’t spend the money on something so impulsive and unnecessary. But she needed a boost today. It’d be a long while before she spent impulsively again.
Myrtle took her good sweet time unfolding a box. “Did you know Mayor Daniels just bought a ruby necklace?” She tucked tissue into each fold of the dress. “And the police chief’s wife has a birthday coming up. Ruby is her birthstone.” In a conspiratorial tone, she said, “Those two have been awfully chummy lately.”
“Maybe he bought the necklace for Mrs. Daniels.” Laura hated Myrtle’s manufactured gossip.
“Her birthday’s in September. Sapphire, you know.” She let out a tiny gasp. “Why that’s just what you need.” She pulled a necklace and earrings from the glass case beneath the cash register. “These go splendidly with your dress. And compliment your eyes.” Her voice dripped honey.
Eyes! That was it. The dress was the color of Brett’s eyes.
“No, thank you.” Her lunch break was ticking by fast. She tapped her foot.
Finally Myrtle closed the box. Laura snatched it up and beat feet for the door, wishing she hadn’t bought a dress the color of Brett Mitchell’s eyes.
She had to forget him and concentrate on saving Rosebuds .
“I see the chocolate éclairs are on special,” Myrtle called after her. “I know how you love those.”
“I’ve got to get back to work.” Laura was mortified. How did this snoop know her weakness for éclairs?
Heaven forbid if Myrtle ever had any real dirt on her.