by Susan Crosby
Not a question, but a declaration. “Is that an invitation?”
He smiled slightly. “Would you like to spend tomorrow with me?” he asked but didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he moved closer, cupped her face and kissed her, a long, deep kiss that started slow and warm, then turned intense and hot.
“You always taste like dessert,” he said, brushing his lips against hers.
“Without the calories.” She enjoyed the feel of him against her body, against her lips. His hands were busy, too, pulling out the band holding her hair back in a ponytail, threading it with his fingers.
“I’ll be flying to Atlanta on Monday, Felicity.”
Disappointment slammed into her, shattering all the pleasure he’d just stirred up. She couldn’t find any words. Was he leading up to ask her to go to his hotel with him tonight? Or spend the day in bed with him tomorrow? You have one chance, Felicity. Is that what he meant?
Could she resist him? Should she? She didn’t want to be another in a long line of conquests, but she wanted him to be the one. Her first. She knew that down to her core.
Now he was leaving, and she was struggling with what to do about her attraction, and her personal convictions. She’d always felt that waiting for marriage to have sex for the first time was the right thing to do, a gift she would give only to her husband. But Michael brought out urges in her, strong urges. And she wasn’t sure she could resist.
She took a few steps back, turning her back on him, heading to the cabinet where she kept her purse, giving herself thinking time and space. “I thought you still needed to talk to your cousin Sawyer before you could leave.” Or had he already but hadn’t told her?
“I’ve been putting it off.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want to go home.” He’d come up behind her, curved his hands over her shoulders. “I’m coming back,” he said, his breath warm against her hair. “I just need to take care of a few things I can’t manage from here.”
“Of course.” She pulled her keys from her pocket. “Ready?”
They walked to her condo hand in hand. The scent of impending rain hung in the air. She wondered if it would interfere with whatever he planned for them Sunday, make them stay home and inside.
“Thank you for walking with me,” she said when they reached her front door. “I enjoyed the company while I worked, too.”
“I don’t know how often I should do that with your giving me samples to taste. And if I don’t stop snitching extras.”
“Did you? I didn’t notice.”
“Hence, the word snitching.”
She was so tense she couldn’t muster a smile. “What time should I be ready tomorrow?” she asked, staring at his chest. She heard a matching tension in his voice. She didn’t want to see it, too.
“How about nine? I’ll take you to breakfast at Estelle’s first.”
“It’s a date. Or—” She stopped, hesitated. Would he return to Red Rock after tomorrow, truly? Or was he just saying that as a way of letting her down easy? Or maybe getting her into bed?
She made her decision—or rather, the decision seemed to make itself. “I could stay with you tonight.”
Silence crackled in the air. She barely breathed. His reaction came slowly, too, his hands tightening on her shoulders before turning her to face him.
“We met yesterday,” he said, his eyes searching hers.
“You’ve never slept with a woman you just met?”
“You’re different.”
Was he turning her down? Rejecting her never-before-given offer? Of course, he didn’t know that—
“You’re different in a good way,” he added. “We’ll stay in touch.”
Okay, Felicity, stop being such a baby, she told herself. He was right. They’d met yesterday, for heaven’s sake.
She put on a smile. “Of course you’re right. It’s very sensible not to rush.”
“It’s not because I don’t want to.”
“You’re absolutely right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, good night, then.”
That had been the most awkward conversation she’d ever had, she decided as she closed the door behind her. She covered her face with her hands, embarrassment filling her from head to toe. She couldn’t have been more obvious. She hadn’t quite begged him, but he must have known how much she wanted to sleep with him.
And he’d turned her down.
So much for the hard and cold Michael Fortune, whose heart had never been unlocked.
Just like yours. No one had unlocked hers, either, and she’d never been accused of being hard-hearted. It was just a matter of finding the right person.
Felicity went into the kitchen for a glass of water. What a difference a night could make. Last night she’d rushed upstairs and awakened Sarah-Jane to tell her she’d met the man she would marry. Tonight Felicity didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to share her embarrassment at offering herself—and being turned down.
A text notification chimed on her phone. Staying with Wyatt tonight. SJ
Felicity sighed. What a waste of an empty house.
Chapter Five
“Well, lookee here. The Suit’s come back.” Estelle plunked her fists on her hips and grinned when Michael and Felicity came into the diner, both a little damp from a light rain. “And he’s brought Miss Felicity.”
“Good morning, Estelle,” Felicity said pertly.
“Mornin’, honey.” She aimed her gaze at Michael. “Still haven’t invested in any Wranglers. You must be leaving town.”
“Nothing gets by you, I see,” Michael said.
“Your cousins are here. Wanna join ’em? They haven’t got their food yet. We can switch their table.”
Asher and his son, Jace, were seated with Sawyer toward the back of the room. Michael hesitated. He wanted an excuse to come back to Red Rock. If he spoke to Sawyer today, he wouldn’t have a reason—
But they waved him over, and there was no way he could say no. Tables were exchanged with a minimum of fuss. Felicity had met Asher and Jace but not Sawyer.
“Jace is a cotton candy fan,” Felicity said of the four-year-old. “He likes the blue raspberry.”
“Can we go to the candy store today, Daddy?”
“I believe it’s closed.” Asher looked to Felicity for confirmation.
“You come in next Saturday, and I’ll make sure to have cotton candy for you,” she said.
Michael watched and listened, not contributing to the conversation that ensued, trying to decide his next move. Sawyer hadn’t cut ties to his father’s company completely. Officially he still held the title of director of publicity and marketing. Michael wondered how long that would last—and how long Uncle James would tolerate Sawyer working from Texas. At some point, things were bound to come to a head.
Of course, the situation might be easier to figure out if James would just say why he’d given away so many company shares to a woman unknown to the rest of the family. A mistress? Former mistress? Polygamist wife? Blackmailer? Who was she? And what did Aunt Clara, his wife, think about it all?
“I’ve been waiting to hear from you, Michael,” Sawyer said above the din of the Sunday morning breakfast crowd. “Figured I was next on your list.”
“Let’s not talk business. I’m enjoying my pancakes.”
“Nothing much to talk about. I bought a ranch with my brothers. I’m not going back to Atlanta. That’s it.”
“You’re still working for the company.”
“For now. I don’t know for how long.”
Michael wanted the conversation over—and a reason to come back. “I’m going home tomorrow morning. I’ll try to get more information for you. When I return, let’s get together, you, Ash, Wyatt and me.”
“You won’t change our minds,” Asher said.
“Maybe.”
Asher shook his head but smiled. Felicity had taken Jace to the jukebox to pick out a couple of songs. The ease with which she interacted wit
h the boy was enviable. Michael had no rapport with kids. None. His sister Wendy’s baby was cute—from a distance—especially now that she was almost one and didn’t need to be held all the time. His sister Jordana’s baby was only a few months old. He’d avoided holding that one, too. Felicity made it seem easy.
She made everything seem easy, in fact. Here she was, holding Jace’s hands and dancing to the cowboy music, her skirt swaying around her shapely legs, not caring if anyone watched. Creating a memory with the boy, Michael imagined. “I danced with the pretty lady from the candy store,” he might say later.
Memories. Felicity seemed full of them, golden memories of her childhood. Michael had few. He’d suppressed his anger at his parents, his father mostly, for spending so little time with them, for not doing the same kinds of things that his friends did with their families. If it weren’t for his mother, he wouldn’t have any memories at all of Christmas. Even birthdays were no big deal. A check was deposited in his bank account. Or a car given. Or a trip to Europe. Nothing truly personal or thought out.
He remembered vowing once as a teenager, when it hadn’t even entered his mind that he wouldn’t marry or have children, that when he was a father, he’d do things differently. That idea got lost somehow through the years.
“So,” Sawyer said, drawing Michael’s attention back. “The pretty confectioner Felicity. How’s that working for you?”
“Fine.”
Sawyer and Asher exchanged humorous looks.
“You watch her like a hawk,” Asher said. “I’ve never seen you do that before.”
“She’s watchable.” Finished with his meal, Michael set his knife and fork on his plate carefully, precisely, reining in his irritation with the direction of the conversation.
“He’s got Red Rock fever,” Asher said, elbowing his brother. “We’ve been here for a month and haven’t been infected yet, but he got it on the first day.”
“I don’t need a lecture on what a good girl Felicity is,” Michael said, “and how I’d better not break her heart.”
“No podium here,” Sawyer said. “Or soap box.”
“I’m enjoying her company, that’s all.”
“If you say so.”
Annoyed, Michael gestured to Estelle that he wanted the check. She came right over.
“You’re leaving already?” She tore off the tab and handed it to him as Felicity and Jace returned.
“I’ve got a full day planned.” He peeled off some bills and handed them to her. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks. Where’re you two headed?”
Michael finally understood why everyone knew everyone else’s business. They flat-out asked. “San Antonio.”
“Yeah? To do what?”
“I’ve never seen the Alamo, nor have I been to the River Walk. Rain’s supposed to let up shortly.”
After a minute Estelle leaned close but spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. “My guess is Felicity’s seen them both a dozen times.”
Chided for his apparent lack of creativity with regard to their date, Michael just gave her the eye. After a few seconds, she chuckled and left, not the least bit intimidated.
Felicity piped up. “It’ll be fun going with someone who’s never been before.”
A long moment of silence ensued, then Asher and Sawyer started laughing. “You’re way too good for him,” Sawyer said.
Which was the truest thing anyone could’ve said, Michael thought. She was pure at heart. What was she doing with a man who discarded women easily, even callously, who was willing to play hardball with vendors, and even worse with competitors? Felicity often gave her lovingly prepared candy away.
“Don’t be mean to him,” Felicity said to the cousins, her smile easy. “He has qualities you’re not aware of. See ya, boys. So long, Jace.”
Felicity turned Michael’s mood around instantly once they were on the road to San Antonio, entertaining him with stories of her childhood. As the youngest sister of three, she was babied by everyone, which was why she’d loved her summers with her aunt, who gave her some freedom and expected independent thinking and behavior.
“I don’t recall babying Wendy, who is the youngest,” he said. “I’m thirteen years older, though, so I was gone to college about the time she started kindergarten. We didn’t hang out a lot.”
“Do you think birth order matters?”
He’d considered that before, questioned the value of the idea. “Yes, but also gender and how many other children there are. And parental expectation. Maybe that more than anything.” It certainly had been true in his case.
He pulled into the entrance of one of the most beautiful hotels on the River Walk in San Antonio. Felicity sat up a little straighter and looked around.
“We have an appointment here,” he said, coming to a stop by the valet’s stand.
“I hope it doesn’t involve food because I’m still full from French toast and bacon.”
He leaned across the console and kissed her. “This day is all about you.”
She looked at him with the same tenderness that Sarah-Jane had given Wyatt that first day. Fire flared in Michael’s core, then spread. He enjoyed the warm feeling until the valet opened the passenger door with a hearty “Welcome!”
You have all day, Michael thought. Just kick back and enjoy it.
He had her wait a distance away while he checked in with the concierge, then they took the elevator to the sixth floor. She was wide-eyed.
“You haven’t asked any questions,” he said as they walked down the hall.
“I love surprises!”
He hated them himself.
He opened a door and let her precede him into a tranquil room, the hotel’s famed spa.
“You’re scheduled for an hour-long massage, with additional time just for your hands.” The delight on her face told him he’d made the right choice. He wondered if what he had planned after the massage would make her as happy.
“Aren’t you joining me? A couples massage?” she asked, looking bewildered.
“Maybe if we were further along in our relationship...”
“But I understand we stay modestly covered the whole time.”
“I think you’ll relax better without me there.”
She seemed disappointed. How could she be disappointed? She stared at his chest, something he was coming to see was a tactic she used when she didn’t want to see his reaction to something she wanted to say.
“It would’ve been really memorable,” she said, then she put her head back and made eye contact. “Thank you. This was very thoughtful of you. How will you spend your time?”
Trying to figure out where I made my mistake, and whether the second half of the date will leave you just as disappointed.
“I’ll go for a walk.”
She looked around. “So, you were just joking with your cousins when you said we were going to the Alamo and the River Walk for our date?”
“I didn’t say that.” He bent close, making her come even closer, not wanting to leave her with tension lingering between them. This was supposed to be a day of fun. “I said I’d never seen them.”
She finally smiled. She kissed him goodbye, then off she went, looking over her shoulder at him and laughing like some kind of woodland sprite.
He carried that fanciful image with him until he saw her again.
* * *
“My bones have turned to rubber,” Felicity said to Michael when she emerged from the quiet depths of the spa later. “You may have to carry me.”
Before she knew it, she was scooped into his arms and carried out the door.
Felicity gave a little shout and grabbed him tightly. She’d never expected anything so spontaneous from him—or playful. He wouldn’t set her down, either, not until they were inside the elevator. There he kissed her—or maybe she kissed him first.
“My hero,” she whispered against his mouth. When they’d first pulled into the hotel parking area, she’d thought he’d chang
ed his mind and was going to accept the offer she’d made last night. Not just accept it, but turn it into something even more wonderful, far from the curious eyes in Red Rock.
Not that she didn’t enjoy the massage and the thoughtfulness behind it. But from the moment they’d pulled into the hotel, she’d gotten her hopes up, and some of her fears, too. The letdown might have been worse except who could think about anything at all during a massage?
She’d also tried to analyze him the entire time she was on the table. When it came to dating, this is what he did. He had a lot of money and he was willing to spend it to make a woman happy. The problem was, it took little effort to do that. Make a call or two and something was arranged.
Not that she didn’t appreciate what he’d done, because she had. And it seemed important to him that she acknowledge that.
“Feel my hands,” she said as they waited for his car to be brought up. “They did a paraffin dip on them. I have no aches and silky soft skin. You are the best—” She stopped herself from saying boyfriend. “The very best.”
“After I left you there at the spa, I wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing.”
“I feel really good. Thank you.” Which was the truth, after all.
A few minutes later they were on the road.
“You don’t want to know where we’re going next?” he asked.
“You have good instincts. I can wait for the surprise.” She angled toward him. “Do you usually go on dates?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
“I mean like this one. Where you plan something. Where you do dinner and a movie. Or do you go to events?”
“I never thought about it that way. Both, I guess.”
“Do you always do the asking?”
“Not always.”
“So the women you date are forward?” She wanted to know if this was his usual way of courting, or if he was doing anything different for her.
He eyed her. “You are definitely from Red Rock.”
“Meaning what?”
“You ask lots of questions.”
“How else do you get answers?”
“You intuit. You assume. You guess.” A hint of sarcasm coated his words.
“And frequently be wrong.”