“No…”
The woman showed no inclination to leave. Melanie got so few flowers, and never any that were delivered to her, that she almost forgot she was supposed to tip. “Just a moment.” She disappeared into her office and retrieved some bills from her purse. When she returned, Gail and the woman were still in awe over the flowers. Melanie handed the tip to the woman. She thanked Melanie but still waited expectantly.
“Well, aren’t you going to read the card?” she finally asked.
“Yes, later.”
“Come on, let’s give her some privacy. I’ll be back for the book,” Gail said, steering the woman toward the door.
With her heart tripping, she opened the card.
Please accept my heartfelt apologies for Saturday night. I hope these make up for my mistake.
The note was signed with Monroe’s bold scrawl.
The flowers included a mixture of roses, peonies, lilies and bellflowers, and the arrangement was absolutely gorgeous. What would make Monroe pick out such a lovely display of flowers for a simple apology?
He could have just left it at the apology in the drugstore, but the woman had said he’d stopped by earlier, so Monroe must have already ordered the flowers when she’d seen him.
Her mind wandered to memories of his hands on her body, and the heat she’d felt. She’d wanted more, wanted him to prolong that kiss. Sending him away had been difficult, nearly impossible. She’d had to pick that fight with him, just to keep from giving in.
Gail rushed back in the store. “So what’s going on?” she asked, the door banging behind her.
“I don’t know.”
Gail glanced at her skeptically. “Is more going on here than I know about?”
“Absolutely not.” But Melanie couldn’t help her heart melting.
“Anything happen Saturday when he took you to see Mrs. Eudora?”
“No, Gail, and stop asking questions.”
“Good thing blacks don’t blush, because you certainly look guilty.”
“Because you’re badgering me.”
“Is he trying to court you? Don’t do it. Don’t do it to save the plaza,” Gail muttered. “We’ll find a way. Don’t sacrifice yourself.”
“Oh, for… I am not sacrificing myself. There are limits as to how far even I will go.” Melanie couldn’t enjoy her flowers with Gail’s snooping. She’d had enough. She grabbed Gail by the arm and ushered her out of the store.
“Come by later for those books. Give me a chance to find them.”
With that done, Melanie glanced at her flowers again. She started to set them next to a book display, but she expected several people to come tripping in for gossip at any moment. Maybe she should take them to her office. As she was the only one working most of the day, she didn’t want the gorgeous blossoms hidden away. Moving the flowers out of sight wasn’t going to stop the gossip. She left them right where they were.
Perhaps Monroe wasn’t so bad, after all, she thought.
She glanced at the flowers again and her heart was warmed. She picked up the phone and dialed his number to thank him.
When Monroe stopped by the rehabilitation center later that day to see his grandmother, she was hanging up the phone.
“Didn’t you coach soccer for Eric’s son’s team?” she asked, a deep frown marring her features.
“I’m not coaching Courtney’s team,” Monroe said, knowing exactly where that conversation was headed.
“At least you could help out until they find someone. While you’re here at least. I know you’re not staying forever, but you’ll be here a little while.”
Coaching meant getting involved with the parents as well as the children. No, thank you. “My farm manager is away. I’ll have to pitch in more with the alpacas.”
“You can’t fool an old woman. Anthony’s cousin, Jewel, knows more about alpacas than you do. They don’t require much work. Besides, Anthony attends conventions all the time when you’re away and things run just fine.” She tore a slip of paper from a pad. “I have Joe Roberts’s number. He has a daughter on the team, too. It won’t kill you to pitch in.”
He ignored the slip of paper. “How are you feeling today?”
“I’d feel a lot better if I knew Courtney had a coach. Children in sports do better in school. Kids need to keep active to stay out of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble can she get into here? Besides, Melanie keeps her eye on the girl. I don’t have time to coach—I have to be available for interviews.”
“You’ll only coach a couple of hours a couple of days a week. You’ll have plenty of time left over for job hunting. It’s not like you’re hurting for money.”
Monroe didn’t want to be around the town folk.
“I’m about to worry myself to death. Doctor told me if I don’t stop stressing…”
“You know how to lay on the guilt. All right, already. But only until the regular coach can take over.”
“I’ll have Joe call you.”
“What happened to your limited visits?” he said, irritated. “People have no business calling you to worry you about soccer, of all things.”
“What else do I have to do? I can’t stay completely out of the loop.”
“Spend more time on physical therapy.”
“They work me to death as it is. I’ve got a torturer for a therapist. I need a break.”
“You can take a break when your therapist says you can take a break.”
Later that afternoon, Melanie’s aunt Thelma tore into the bookstore as if a strong wind were pushing her. “It’s been a zoo today,” the older woman said. She stopped at the counter and focused on the flowers. “You taking Courtney somewhere on spring break?”
“Can’t this year. Too busy.” Her aunt already knew that. But any excuse would do to get her in the store.
“Heard you were at the drugstore this morning.”
“I got alcohol for Courtney’s mosquito bites. I also picked up a card for Mrs. Eudora to lift her spirits. Looks like she’s going to miss Easter service this year.”
“You’re always doing something for that woman. Heard Monroe was talking to you. ’Bout scared poor Fanny out of her wits.”
“It doesn’t take much to upset Fanny. Where are you going with this, Aunt Thelma?”
She touched a petal on a peony. “Monroe seems to like you. Maybe if you cozy…”
“Don’t even think it, because I won’t consider it. Besides, he knows we didn’t cheat Mrs. Eudora. I’m sure he’s going to drop this business about her selling out.”
“Never know when something happens to put that notion in his head again. Not good for a man to stay single too long. He gets set in his ways. And just because Dorian was too stupid to know what’s good for her, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t benefit from it. You’re a better catch than she was. And if anybody gets him, it might as well be you.”
“Thank you for your generosity. Tell you what. Set him up with Gail.”
Her aunt scoffed. “They’d be at each other’s throats.”
“We can’t be in the same room without fighting. Besides, he can’t stand me.”
“That’s not what Fanny said.”
“What does she know?”
“You’re getting a bit snippety, too. You’ve been without a man too long. I’m going back to work.”
Melanie sighed. Underneath Monroe’s beastly behavior lay things Melanie had no knowledge of. She felt unnerved by the way something about him tugged deep within her. As if his behavior was the result of some inner turmoil.
Which was exactly where women went wrong. They were always thinking they could fix a man. He hurt. He lashed out. With my love I could save him. Melanie was too old to believe that lie. You had no control over another person. You could love them with all your heart, but their lives were the result of what was in their heart, not yours.
A customer arrived. She looked out the window. Several cars were parked at the gas station. One of them was
Monroe’s. She spotted him looking in the direction of her store as he began to pump gas. Melanie quickly turned away from him and toward her customer.
Monroe had barely made it in the house before the phone rang. It was Joe Roberts calling to thank him profusely for coaching the girls.
“Just two days a week,” Joe said. “If you can’t make it to the games, I’ll take care of it.” He cleared his throat. “Have you ever coached soccer before?”
“I coached a few years.”
“Well, if you could coach Tuesdays and Thursdays, it will take a huge load off me. Melanie’s the team mother, so I’ll call her to get things rolling. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your help.”
Monroe grunted.
“You can ride to practice with Melanie. She can show you the location of the practice field.”
I don’t think so. “Just give me the directions.”
Reluctantly, the man did so, then told him he’d stop by later on to talk about the girls’ playing positions.
Chapter 5
Melanie and Courtney were almost the first to arrive at practice; Monroe was already there. It was only April, but in South Carolina the day was hot. While Monroe took soccer balls out of a mesh bag, he watched Melanie stride toward him in black shorts that revealed long shapely legs. Her hourglass shape was made even more enticing with a thin blouse tucked into her shorts. He drew in a long breath. It was going to be a long game.
A swift welcoming breeze blew toward him, and instead of cooling his ardor, he smelled the aroma of her perfume wafting in the air. He wanted her even more. Once again he stared at her, transfixed. Her hair was unbound and it shifted in the wind. He wanted to reach out and touch the silky strands.
Monroe cleared his throat and glanced away. “Who’s minding the store?”
“Carla Woods, one of my employees.” Melanie shuffled papers in her hand. “I have the list of players for you. The addresses and phone numbers are included,” she said, handing him a clipboard with all the pertinent information.
Her hand hovered in the air and he lifted an eyebrow. For a moment he wondered what she was waiting for, until he remembered the clipboard. Feeling foolish, he took it from her and mumbled a brisk thanks.
Quickly he looked over the list of names and the positions the girls played. One by one, the girls began to arrive. In fifteen minutes, he started the practice while anxious parents looked on.
First he had the girls do an exercise routine they were unfamiliar with. It was obvious Carsons and Hickses were on the team. The girls Courtney stood with were probably Carsons, so he guessed the girls standing off from them were the Hickses. He quickly jotted down which were which on his clipboard. He didn’t want them playing according to the feud.
“Okay, I want you to line up by numbers.” The girls moved reluctantly because now they were mixed. He made sure every Carson stood next to a Hicks. Monroe clapped his hands. “Move it. There will be no feud on the field. You’re a team. Period.” He didn’t give a second thought to the parents standing on the sidelines looking outraged.
The Carson parents were standing to one side of the field and the Hickses were standing to the other, divided just the way the kids had been. He noticed that Melanie stood on neutral ground; doing what, he didn’t know. She didn’t seem to take sides. In the beginning, he’d thought to leave the team in the exact positions their coach had placed them, but the players seemed so mismatched for their positions, he changed the lineup. If the coach didn’t like what he did, he could always change it back. But just watching those girls fumble in positions they weren’t suited for was enough to make Monroe’s stomach roil.
A ray of hope brightened Melanie’s day. Maybe having the team play together as a unit would help solve the problem with the feud, at least with the kids.
But one by one, the parents wandered over to Melanie.
“Why is he changing the playing positions?” Elmore asked. “My granddaughter always plays forward.”
Melanie shrugged. “I’m not qualified to judge. But Mrs. Eudora said he’s coached for several years. So he must know what he’s doing.”
“He’s only going to be coaching a little while. Doesn’t make sense he’s changing things around.”
“They haven’t won a game yet. They can’t do any worse than they have been doing,” Melanie murmured. She met Elmore’s irritated black eyes.
“You trust him?”
“He’s all we have. Unless you have some other suggestion. He doesn’t have to coach the girls. And he’s certainly taking the duty seriously.”
Elmore grunted and meandered over to the other Hickses. As they huddled, Aunt Thelma approached Melanie.
“Those Hickses always got to be complaining about something, don’t they?” she said.
Aunt Thelma was forgetting that the Carsons had come over to complain, too. “Everybody’s complaining.”
“He’s Mrs. Eudora’s grandson. We’d best not make him angry.”
“If that’s the case, we’re already in trouble. He’s always angry with me.”
“Ah. You’re just a cream puff. Nobody can get mad at you.” She nodded toward Monroe, who was frowning down the field. “Even sourpuss over there.”
Melanie swatted a fly away from her face. “The worst that could happen is we’ll lose another game.”
“The girls are certainly used to that. Would be nice if they won for a change. Good for their self esteem.”
Monroe had players pair off and practice drills. Then he worked with players one by one, while the others scrimmaged.
“You must be feeling really good with that pretty bunch of flowers he gave you.”
“You’re still on that?”
“I don’t know what you’re so secretive about. It’s not like you get them every day.”
“Nothing goes on that the whole town doesn’t debate, does it?”
“When you get a man like Monroe, it’s news.”
Melanie started to say he wasn’t her man, but after her parting shot, Aunt Thelma rejoined the other Carsons.
Monroe was a hardworking man, Melanie thought. He put a lot of effort into the girls’ practice. They’d never worked out so hard, and after that first set down about the feud, not one of the girls complained. Clearly they sensed he knew what he was doing.
The powerful muscles in Monroe’s legs moved with easy grace as he charged up the field to counsel a player. Melanie’s skin flushed hot and cold just watching him.
He wore blue shorts and a white T-shirt. The white shirt contrasted starkly with his bronze skin, and his muscles rippling under his shirt quickened her pulse. He put a lot of energy into that game. She wondered if he was as thorough and energetic in bed.
Suddenly he looked at her and Melanie held her breath. His gaze traveled to her mouth, rendering her immobile until he focused on the girls again. Melanie fanned herself with the paper in her hand.
Monroe called the practice to a halt forty-five minutes after the regular practice time. One by one, the girls sidled over to Melanie to complain, but not one word was mentioned to Monroe.
“I’d like to throw in an extra practice this week,” Monroe said to the parents. “I realize we can’t practice any more during the week, but Friday should work. Any objections?”
Nobody commented. “Good. I’ll expect the players here at regular practice time.” He focused his gaze on the girls. “I noticed several of you were late. If you plan to play in Sunday’s game, be on time.” The crowd grew so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Melanie’s phone was going to be ringing off the hook tonight, but now everyone walked slowly to their respective vehicles.
Carsons even parked in a separate area from the Hickses. Melanie had always thought the feud was ridiculous, but never more than that day. She was almost embarrassed to have Monroe looking on. Melanie was packing things in her bag and was getting ready to leave, when Monroe stopped her.
With a towel, he wiped the sweat off his face. “So how
many complaints did I get?”
Melanie chuckled. “You don’t want to know.”
His laughing rumble was deep in his throat. And Melanie realized how much his face changed when he laughed. She’d never seen him laugh before.
“You should do that more often,” she said.
He looked at her, a question on his brow. “Do what?” he asked.
“Laugh.”
He scowled. Melanie took in the strong lines of his body. Long and powerful. That was a description she hadn’t thought of before. He was strong and masculine. Get your head together, right now.
“Be interesting to hear your conversations tonight,” he said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.”
“If anyone has a problem, tell them to call me. My shoulders are big enough to handle it.” His shoulders were indeed quite impressive now that he’d called her attention to them.
“I can handle my own problems. I don’t hide behind a man.”
He looked her over from head to toe.
“I’m still debating whether I’ll make you eat crow,” Melanie said. “I like the fact that you don’t put up with the feud. Perhaps you’ll have more success than I did.”
Monroe’s intense gaze made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
Melanie’s breath caught in her throat. “The flowers were beautiful, and a kind gesture.”
Monroe nodded. “I won’t lie and say I regret kissing you. I want to kiss you now every bit as much as I wanted to then.”
The warmth that stole over Melanie’s body was unbidden and unwanted. It angered her that he could twist her stomach into knots with just a few words.
“Let’s get something straight,” she said more sharply than she intended. “That’s not going to happen again.” She grabbed her catchall bag, looped it on her shoulder. “I have to go.”
“Running, Melanie?” his voice taunted her from behind.
Turning, Melanie squared her shoulders and faced him once again. “No. I don’t run from anything.”
With the windows rolled down to catch the fresh breeze, Melanie drove home with only half her mind on the deserted side road. Unfortunately even the cool breeze didn’t still the exaggerated beat of her heart. She was running. Scampering away from what she felt for Monroe. A man could yank a woman’s chains in so many directions she didn’t know which way was up. Melanie wasn’t ready for an emotional investment. But even as mere acquaintances, Monroe was getting to her. She still wanted him.
Sweet Southern Comfort Page 6