Miss Goody Two-Shoes: Contemporary Romance

by Charlotte Hughes

  “We can, baby,” he said at last. “We can.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The bedroom was dim except for the light that spilled out from the closet, casting a soft glow on the embracing couple and leaving everything else swathed in shadows.

  “Are you okay?” Kane asked, speaking against her parted lips. The last thing he wanted to do was make her nervous. He was nervous enough for both of them.

  Mel gazed into his dark eyes. “I’m fine.” Under other circumstances she would have been a wreck, but the deep caring she saw on Kane’s face convinced her she was doing the right thing.

  “You should know something,” he said. “I know we’re using protection and all, but I’m clean. I’ve had all the tests, and I do mean all of them.”

  Mel smiled tenderly, loving him for caring enough to reassure her. He kissed her again, this time hungrily. Mel felt herself being lowered onto the bed, felt the mattress dip beneath his weight as Kane joined her and gathered her up in his arms. She responded, parting her lips when he prodded them open with his tongue. Her head went into a slow spin.

  “Everything’s perfect,” he said and captured her lips again.

  # # #

  When Mel opened her eyes sometime later, she found herself cuddled up to Kane. As though sensing she was now awake, he opened his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” he said.

  She suddenly felt shy with him. “How long did I sleep?”

  “Couple of hours. I figured you needed it. I drifted off a couple of times myself.”

  She gazed back at him. There didn’t seem to be anything to say.

  Kane sensed her uncertainty. “Any regrets?”

  She shook her head. “Do you have regrets, Kane?” she asked, scared that he might.

  He gazed at the ceiling. “I haven’t deflowered many virgins in my time. I wouldn’t like to think I might have forced you into a decision you wouldn’t have made under normal conditions.”

  “I wanted us to make love, Kane, and I’m not sorry we did it.”

  Relieved, he hugged her to him. “I keep thinking Harper would have been a better choice.”

  “Harper? I thought you—”

  “I know what I’ve said about Harper, but he’s in a much better position to offer you marriage than I am.”

  “Is that what this is about? You think I expect you to marry me now that we’ve made love? Do you think I’ll pressure you into something you’re not ready for?” Mel rose up and searched for her clothes. She was hurt.

  Kane reached for her, but she shrugged him off. “All I’m saying is, you deserve a good man to take care of you.”

  “Who says I need taking care of, Kane Stoddard?”

  “You want a family, don’t you? You want security and stability and all those things. I’ve never been any of those things.”

  Mel retrieved her underthings, blushing wildly when the sheet fell and exposed her breasts. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of what I want?”

  “Everything I’ve ever touched has turned rotten,” he said.

  “What is this?” Mel asked, wondering why he was tormenting himself so. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

  “Because,” he said simply. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you, and I’m scared.”

  Mel sat there wondering if she’d heard him right. He’d said he was in love with her. Her heart swelled with emotion. “Why are you scared, Kane? Because you think I’ll try to talk you into having children when you’re not ready?”

  He shook his head. “I’m scared because you deserve nothing less than that, and I’m not able to give it to you right now.” He sighed and stacked his hands beneath his head. “When I was in prison, I couldn’t wait to get out and do the things I wanted. I had everything planned. I was going to come here and find a job—”

  “It’s only been a couple of weeks, for heaven’s sake.”

  “When you’ve lost years of your life, two weeks is a lot of time to waste.” He looked at her. “That’s not all of it, though. I want to get my life on track because I have so much I need to make up for. I really was a sorry cuss before I went to prison, Mel. Leavenworth was not my first time behind bars. Why do you think it was so easy for a jury to convict me? They took one look at me and knew I was a punk.”

  “That’s in the past,” she said matter-of-factly. “The Kane Stoddard I know is a caring, giving man. You’ve got a few things to work out, but hey, we all do.”

  He pondered her words. “Is that how you see me? Caring and giving?”

  “Absolutely.”

  It warmed him inside. “When you say it like that, I almost believe it.”

  She touched his cheek with her hand. “Then I suppose I’ll have to say it to you every day.”

  He closed his own hand around hers, brought it to his face, and kissed her open palm. “Would you believe I want to make love to you again?” he said softly.

  She arched one brow. “So soon? What about—” Her face grew pink. “You know.”

  He grinned. “I bought an extra one just in case.”

  # # #

  Kane squared his shoulders and walked through the front door of Gould’s Graphics and Printing. A frustrated Mrs. Gould stood at the counter with a high school girl, trying to explain how to write up a job order. In the next room he could hear the steady clack- clack-clack of the printing press. The woman frowned at him, and Kane knew she recognized him.

  “Is Mr. Gould in?” he asked, thinking he stood a better chance with her husband.

  “He’s busy. May I help you?” The woman looked harried and impatient to be about her work.

  “I was in the neighborhood and decided to check back and see if you’re hiring,” Kane said. He had two interviews in town, but neither of the jobs sounded promising. This one, he knew, could lead to something.

  “We’re not hiring, Mr. Stoddard. I believe we covered that last time you were here.”

  So she did remember him. “That’s too bad, Mrs. Gould. From what I hear, you’re up to your eyeballs in work. I also hear folks are taking their business to Pelzer ’cause you’re so far behind.” The woman’s face grew red, and he figured he’d gone too far. “Shame of it is, I could help you out of your bind. There isn’t anything I don’t know about running a print shop.”

  “Yes, I believe you learned it all behind bars,” she said coolly. “Which is why I can’t believe Melanie Abercrombie has opened her doors to the likes of you.”

  Kane felt his face grow hot. He placed his hands palms down on the counter and leaned closer. “Look, Mrs. Gould, I’ve already paid for one crime I didn’t commit. Now, as far as Miss Abercrombie is concerned—”

  “She’s a fair and decent human being,” the woman said.

  “Funny you should say that, Mrs. Gould, ’cause that’s exactly what Mel said about you and your husband.”

  The woman pulled herself up to her full height. “What do you want from me, Mr. Stoddard?” she said at last.

  He gave her a sincere smile. The poor high school girl looked as if she’d rather be someplace else. “Just the chance to prove myself; nothing more, nothing less.”

  Mrs. Gould looked torn. She eyed the stack of work orders beside her. The phone rang, and she snatched it up and mumbled an apology for a job that had taken longer to complete than she’d estimated. She hung up the phone and all but glared at Kane. Finally, she sighed, and her massive chest heaved with the effort. “You realize you’d be on probation the first two weeks? I make no guarantees after that.”

  Kane knew he could impress the hell out of them in that length of time. He held out his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mrs. Gould.”

  The woman hesitated, and then put her own hand in his. “Be here at eight o’clock sharp tomorrow.” She turned away, letting him know their conversation had come to an end.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Surprise!”

  Kane stumbled to a halt inside the kitchen door as Mel and Wilto
n cried out their greeting and threw handfuls of colorful confetti in his face. He caught a glimpse of a large sheet cake on the table with the word “Congratulations” spelled out in red letters.

  “What’s this?” he said. “It’s not my birthday.”

  “Mrs. Gould called me at the store and said she’d given you a job. Congratulations, Kane.”

  “Mrs. Gould called you?”

  “Uh-huh. Seemed very happy to have you aboard, as a matter of fact.” That wasn’t exactly true, Mel realized. Ann Gould had wanted to find out all she could about Kane. Mel suspected she was having second thoughts about hiring him, but after she’d bragged about Kane for twenty minutes, the woman seemed satisfied with her decision.

  Kane gazed back in disbelief. He had taken a two hour motorcycle ride to celebrate his victory, but he could still remember Mrs. Gould’s reluctance to hire him. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same woman here?”

  Mel chuckled. “Don’t let that perpetual frown fool you,” she said. “Mrs. Gould is actually very nice once you get to know her. I told you she’s in my Sunday school class.”

  Kane took a closer look at the cake. He raised his eyes to Mel’s radiant face. “How did you have time to bake this?” he asked.

  “She didn’t bake it,” Wilton said. “She raced to the Thrifty Sack and bought it ready-made.”

  “Well, I blew up the balloons,” Mel said, pointing to a batch of red and white balloons tied to one of the blades on the ceiling fan.

  “Who helped you?” her father asked.

  Kane was still gazing at her warmly. “Thank you,” he said. “I can’t remember when anyone has ever done something so nice for me.”

  Mel realized it was the second time he’d said those same words. It made her wonder if he’d known any nice people growing up. “Well, you’ll have to wait until after dinner to have a piece of the cake,” she said. “Otherwise, it’ll spoil your appetite.”

  “My appetite is just fine, Miz Abercrombie,” he said, his tone making it obvious to Mel he wasn’t talking about food. She’d opened her mouth to reply, when someone banged on the front door.

  “Wonder who that is?” she said. The banging became louder.

  Wilton and Kane hurried into the living room after her. It sounded as though someone wanted to tear the door down. Kane rushed forward. “Let me get it,” he said. Mel beat him to it.

  Harper Beckwood rushed through the door with the speed and commotion of a freight train. “Where is he?” he demanded of Mel. “Where is that sorry, no-count—”

  “You looking for me, Beckwood?” Kane said, closing the distance between the man and himself.

  Harper glared at him. “I should have known you’d get her in your bed,” he said. “It’s all over town how the two of you are doing it right under her daddy’s roof.”

  “Harper!” Mel’s face flamed a bright red.

  “Now, wait a dern minute,” Wilton said, his own temper rising.

  Harper swung his gaze in Mel’s direction. “What’s gotten into you? You’re nothing but a—”

  Kane grabbed him by the shirt collar. “Don’t say it, Beckwood,” he warned, his tone deadly.

  “What do you care? You’re the one who turned her into a whore.”

  Kane was filled with a rage like he’d never known. Without hesitating, he punched Harper right in the nose. The man stumbled backward, falling against the coffee table. Kane went after him.

  Mel screamed. “Stop, you’ll break the furniture!” she cried, trying to think of a way to prevent a fight.

  Kane was prevented from moving when someone grabbed the back of his collar. Surprised, he glanced back and found himself looking into Wilton’s face.

  “You lookin’ to go back to prison?” the older man demanded. “If you mess up that man, that’s exactly where you’re going.”

  Kane looked from Wilton to a shocked Mel, then finally to Harper, who hadn’t had the good sense to take off his suit coat before a fight. His anger cooled. Finally, Kane dragged the other man to his feet. “Get the hell out of here, Beckwood,” he said, his breathing ragged, “before I change my mind.”

  With his nose bleeding profusely, Harper staggered away, ignoring Mel’s offer to put ice on it. Kane turned to her, opened his mouth to apologize, and then hesitated when he saw the fear in her eyes. Without a word she rushed down the hall to her bedroom.

  The tension later at the dinner table was thick enough to chew. Kane glanced across the table at Mel and Wilton and saw they were as uncomfortable as he was. Mel picked at her food as if the thought of eating it was more than she could bear. Finally, she shoved her chair from the table.

  “Would you excuse me?” she said. “I’m not very hungry.”

  Kane watched her walk away. He put down his fork and tossed Wilton an apologetic look. “’Fraid I’m not hungry either.” He pushed away from the table and left the kitchen.

  Kane knocked on Mel’s door a moment later. She looked surprised to see him. “Can we talk for a minute?” he said.

  She opened the door wide for him to pass through, then closed it and made her way to the ruffled bed where she grabbed a throw pillow and pretended to study the fine lace stitching. “I’m listening,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I got carried away with Harper,” he told her. His dark earnest eyes sought hers.

  She leveled her gaze at him. Her expression was tight with strain. “Carried away? Is that what you call it?”

  “You heard what he called you. Did you expect me to just stand there and do nothing?”

  “Maybe Harper’s right.”

  “Mel, no!” Kane went to her, grabbed both shoulders, and shook her slightly. “Don’t say that, babe. Don’t even think it.”

  “I fell into bed with you quick enough, didn’t I? What’s it been, two weeks we’ve known each other?”

  His eyes beseeched her. “I’ve known you a helluva lot longer than two weeks, Melanie Abercrombie.”

  “Letters don’t count,”

  “Letters do count. And I know things you didn’t tell me in those letters. I know you can’t stand to wake up to a dirty kitchen and that you don’t talk to anybody until you’ve had at least two cups of coffee. I know you love tomatoes and would eat them for every meal if they didn’t make your face break out. I know you buy all the latest fragrances in bubble bath, but seldom take time for anything more than a quick shower. I know—”

  “You’ve made your point, Kane.”

  He raised up. “Good.”

  “But that still doesn’t change how I feel. I need more time. I want to know if what we have is real.”

  He looked hurt. “I’m sorry if you’re feeling guilty about us making love,” he said. “You certainly hid it well. Looked to me you were enjoying it as much as I was.”

  He didn’t give her a second chance to respond. He jerked the door open and let himself out.

  # # #

  Wilton was drinking coffee and reading his newspaper when Kane made his way into the kitchen the following morning. “Where’s Mel?” he said, accustomed to finding her at the table in her bathrobe. He wanted her to be there to share his excitement of getting ready to go to his new job.

  “She’s having coffee in her room this morning,” Wilton said. “I wouldn’t bother her if I were you. Harper called while you were in the shower. He had to go to the emergency room for his nose. Said they took X-rays and found it broken in three places.”

  Kane paused in pouring his coffee. “I only hit him once.” Wilton merely shrugged. “Are you mad at me, too?” Kane asked the man.

  Wilton shook his head. “Naw. The way I figure, any man who calls my daughter what he did deserves a broken nose.”

  # # #

  Kane arrived at Gould’s’ Graphics and Printing at precisely eight clock. He found Mrs. Gould at the typesetter, frowning and looking harried even at this early hour. “We’re swamped, and I don’t have time to train you right now,” she said.

  He wan
ted to tell her he didn’t need training, then decided it would be better to show her instead.

  “Just go in the back and see if you can help my husband,” she told him.

  Kane pushed through the heavy curtain that separated the front office from the work area. He wrinkled his nose when he smelled onions coming from somewhere. The room was spacious, surrounded by shelves of brightly colored paper. There was a drafting table of sorts where he assumed the arts and graphics were done, on top of which rested several Styrofoam coffee cups and a dried-up doughnut. One of the cups had spilled onto the table and the coffee left to dry. Next to the automatic folding machine a cutting table was littered with bits and pieces of paper in an assortment of colors. He wondered when the floor around it had been swept last. A mountain of work orders sat on another table, where someone had left a half-eaten hamburger with onions.

  Kane decided he was going to have to work late to get the place in order.

  He found Mr. Gould sipping coffee and tinkering with one of the presses while the other one ran at full speed. The man was a head shorter than his wife and looked to weigh a good fifty pounds less. He smiled when he spotted Kane.

  “You must be Mr. Stoddard,” he said, offering his hand. “My name’s Sam. You want a cup of coffee?” When Kane shook his head, the man went on. “You’ll have to excuse the mess. I been so snowed under, I haven’t had a chance to pick up. The missus would have a fit if she saw it. Which is why I don’t allow her back here.” He paused and took a sip of his coffee. “She and I have an understanding. I stay outta her business, and she stays outta mine. You ever been married, Mr. Stoddard?”

  Kane liked Sam Gould immediately, and he realized the only other time he’d felt that way was when he’d met Wilton Abercrombie. “Call me Kane,” he said. “And no, I’ve never been married.”