by Maddie James
“Will you see him again?”
Crap. Where is this going? “Um. He said something about next week…”
She’d heard of pregnant pauses before and was never really sure that she had experienced one. But if there ever was a pause that was pregnant, this one probably was, because it felt like there was this huge belly of a pause hanging between the two of them.
He cleared his throat. “Wh…where did you have lunch? A restaurant in Legend?”
“Oh no,” she began, “my friend Suzie owns the Bed & Breakfast. You know of it? We had lunch there. In fact, I had lunch there every day this week,” she rattled on, “…because, well, Suzie is a…” matchmaker? No… “a really good cook, and I love her lunches, and sometimes she arranges lunch dates and…”
“I’ve heard of her. She’s a matchmaker.”
Shit.
“I’ll take you to lunch. How about if I take you to lunch sometime?”
Double whopper crap!
“I mean, as a thank you for taking care of the babies.”
“You’re paying me, Mack. You don’t have to take me to lunch.”
“But I would like…”
“I’m not sure your wife would agree.”
There. She’d said it.
Pause.
“Wife? Lyssa, there is no…”
About then, Buttercup yawned, flipped over, and yip-yipped in mid puppy dream. She twitched and her leg yanked up and back.
Lyssa laid a hand on the pup’s belly and crooned, “Sh, sweetie, it will be okay.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh. I was talking to Buttercup. Bad puppy dream, I think.”
“Okay, well, go to her. I’ll let you go.”
“She’s fine. She’s right here.” Oh, hell! “Um, I’m heading that way…”
Very awkward pause again.
“Lyssa, are my dogs in bed with you?”
She sat straight up. “No! Absolutely not, Mack. You gave orders to have them sleep in their crates and…” Buttercup whimpered again. Loudly. “Oh, I need to get to Buttercup. Talk to you tomorrow. Bye!”
She pushed the call button on the phone. “Damn, damn, damn!”
Plopping back against the pillows, she exhaled. Long.
Lunch? Did he ask her out?
The pups were in her bed! Could he tell?
And what had he said there at the end? Lyssa, there is no…
Wife? Was that what he was about to say? Then what about the picture? No wife? Too much to think about, to sort out.
****
Stepping through the vestibule of the Baptist church and into the bright sunlight, Lyssa grimaced and brought a hand to her eyes. Suzie was supposed to meet her at the corner. She sent her a text message in the middle of the service. They both attended early services, as was their custom. Of course, everyone in Legend knew of everyone else’s habits.
Suzie was a member of the Methodist Church, where the infamous Rev. Rock Peters presided; Lyssa was a member of the Baptist Church. The churches were within short walking distance of each other.
She didn’t see Suzie there yet, so she ambled down the steps and sidewalk and waited.
Yesterday was the first day since Monday that Lyssa didn’t have an email or text or voicemail or phone call from Mr. Mack Roberts. It was also the first day all week she’d not had a lunch date.
Okay, fine with her. She had managed to get all of her errands accomplished and took the pups on a very long walk. The day was so beautiful…too beautiful a fall day to stay inside. The three of them ventured up the walking trails on Legend Mountain. Even though she had her cell phone with her, she’d been without service for several hours, and wondered if she’d somehow missed a call or email or text from Mack.
Which was entirely unlikely, because the cell service stored those kinds of things for when service was engaged again.
But of course, it didn’t bother her one iota that she’d not heard from him. Not in the least, because, well, she didn’t have any kinds of feelings one way or the other for the man. It was business.
All business.
Who was she kidding?
She liked getting messages from Mack. Had enjoyed them all week, if she were truthful with herself, she looked forward to them, actually. Expected them, even.
If she only knew for certain about that wife business.
She toed some grass peeking up between bricks in the sidewalk.
In truth, yesterday had been all too quiet. And, well, rather lonely.
No matter. All that silence—no calls, no lunches, no people contact—allowed her to think. Ponder. Wonder. Consider. And just plain old muse away her day.
“Hey, girl.”
Lyssa jerked out of her rumination. Suzie stood square in front of her.
“Oh! Hi. Got your message. What’s up?”
“Saw the good Reverend earlier.” She grinned and Lyssa wasn’t sure she was ready for the reason behind that grin. “He wants to have lunch again. Tomorrow, at noon. Can you make it?”
Shit.
Damn.
She was going to have to stop saying shit—and damn—if she was going to start dating a preacher.
But, did she really want to have lunch with Rock Peters?
Or, would she rather settle for another nice, long conversation with Mack Roberts, puppy daddy?
“Well?”
She met Suzie’s gaze head-on. “Sure. Why not?”
Chapter Six
The activity inside Mack’s head, and the demeanor of his body, were in total opposition of each other. His brain raced in thought and question, while his gut flooded with emotion as he strolled the boardwalk.
Hell, he hoped he’d made the right decision. Having just briefed his team, after treating them to a very nice dinner at the beachside restaurant, The Green Flash in Mission Bay, he ambled toward his hotel. A cool breeze tickled the back of his damp neck, causing him to chill.
He hadn’t realized he’d been sweating until the wind gusted up behind him. He reached up and rubbed the dampness away.
“Hell,” he whispered. “I hope this is the right move.” The evening had been more nerve-wracking than he had anticipated.
Tired of being away from home, he was leaving earlier than planned, eager to get back to Tennessee. It would be a good test for his team.
And for him.
He had to learn to trust more than he had of late. Might as well start tonight. His guys were smart and capable. There was no reason for him not to.
And then, there was Lyssa.
Stopping mid-stride, he thrust his hands deep into his trouser pockets and glanced back toward the ocean. He’d been living his life solo, not reaching out, uneager to build relationships, and putting most people at arm’s length, for a couple of years now. He supposed that was normal for anyone who had lost someone they loved tragically and without warning. Caroline had been his life, all he had.
But she was gone, her life snuffed out way too soon. She would always be a part of him, but he couldn’t continue to live in the past. It was time to push forward.
He was ready.
He’d start with his team. And after that? Well, perhaps he could venture out in other ways.
“Lyssa.” Her name rolled off his tongue as he whispered it. He didn’t know her and, at the same time, he did. The thing he did know was that he wanted to know her better.
A lot better.
“Shit.”
Their last conversation had nagged at him all day, like there was some closure he needed to bring to it, but he wasn’t quite certain in what way.
Then it dawned on him.
A statement had been left without response. A reply unsaid and left adrift, that he needed Lyssa to hear.
It was late and he didn’t feel like conversation, but he couldn’t let this stir over night. He should probably call but decided against it. An email might be okay, but a text message would be short and to the point and likely she wouldn’t be able to miss it
as easily.
So he pulled out his phone and typed in the words he wanted to say.
****
I don’t have a wife, Lyssa. She died two years ago.
Unsure how she’d missed that text message the night before, Lyssa sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the words. No wife. He was a widower. And he wanted her to know that.
Unfortunately, that didn’t make what she had to do today any easier. In fact, she had convinced herself over the weekend that Mack Roberts was a client only, the pups’ daddy, and that was it—even though just the day before, she’d held a glimmer of ache inside her when she thought of him. A thrill had raced through her each time he’d texted or emailed. And a strange and fulfilling warmth had filled her when they had finally talked on the phone.
She had hoped she’d been wrong about the picture in the entryway, and that, maybe, the spine-fluttering she had felt whenever she thought of him was just a passing fancy.
No. Not true.
And now it was confirmed. There was no wife.
She wouldn’t wish losing a spouse on anyone, and obviously, since there was a picture still in his home, Mack’s wife was not forgotten. But Lyssa embraced an odd sensation of relief at her new-found knowledge…then, she thought about the upcoming lunch date and grimaced.
She was meeting up with the good Reverend in about two hours.
Now, she wasn’t sure she was up for it.
She huffed out a breath. What to do? What to do?
Standing, she closed the cell phone and slipped it into the side pocket in her purse. She moved to her dresser to finish her outfit with a pretty turquoise necklace. She went through all of the motions of getting dressed, including applying makeup, and straightening her pantyhose, and trying on three different pair of heels to match her outfit.
All the while her thoughts meandered; of what she might expect at lunch today with Rock Peters, and of how all she really and truly wanted to do was sit down and have a genuine, face-to-face conversation with Mack Roberts.
That notion warmed her heart.
“He’ll be home tomorrow,” she whispered, bending to adjust the strap of her left shoe.
She’d found the perfect pair, not too sexy, but a nice medium heel of turquoise, which matched her necklace, that contrasted nicely peeking out from beneath her wide-legged black pants.
Tomorrow. Mack would be back then to retrieve the pups. For any number of reasons, that made her at the same time apprehensive…and excited.
****
“All right, we’ve got fried chicken, parmesan mashed potatoes with just a hint of rosemary, and a fresh cucumber and tomato salad with blue cheese crumbles. Sweet tea, of course. And I have a nice mango sorbet that I made yesterday for dessert. If you get through all that, I’ve got cinnamon coffee brewing.”
Lyssa studied Suzie’s face. There was some expression there she couldn’t put her finger on. Then she frowned. “I recommend you eat light today, Lyssa.”
She played her gaze over the spread on Suzie’s bar. “Looks like you have plenty. You make enough for you, Brad, and Petey, too?”
Turning, Suzie went to the sink. “Oh, sure, there is plenty for leftovers.” She rinsed out a dish and placed it in the strainer. “But Lyssa, there is something else I need to tell you.”
Having just plucked a grape tomato out of the salad, Lyssa lifted her gaze to her friends’
as she popped the nugget into her mouth. “Oh?”
“Yes.” She nodded, while working her hands over a kitchen towel. “Lyssa, you have two lunch dates today. The second one came up rather, um, unexpectedly. But I didn’t think you would want to pass it up.”
Lyssa felt her right brow arch. What? “Two?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Can’t tell you.”
“Can’t?”
“More like won’t. Look, I promised.” Finally Suzie met her gaze. “Hey! Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“With your eyes all scrunchy and everything.”
“If my eyes look at all scrunchy, it’s because I feel like I’ve just been thrown a curve ball.
What gives? When did this new date come about? I mean, I’m trying hard to be all mentally psyched for the good Reverend, and now…?”
Suzie took her hands and coaxed her to a bar stool. “I know, sweetie, but the whole purpose of this is for you to meet men. Plural. The opportunity for this date came up last night. He could be a little later than planned, he wasn’t exactly sure what time he could get here, so we have plenty of time to do the good Reverend and then get ready for Monday Suitor Number Two.”
Do the good Reverend. Not!
“I’m not doing anyone, Suzie. At least not yet.”
“I wouldn’t pass up the chance, my dear, if you got it.”
Lyssa gasped. “What in the world are you saying, Suzie?”
Suzie tossed her a smug look and glanced at the kitchen clock. “We have ten minutes. I need to plate the salad. Why don’t you go do a makeup check.”
Lyssa gasped her arm. “Wait. What are you telling me? That I should go out and have sex with one of these dates?”
“Not saying anything of the kind.” She patted Lyssa’s hand. “I’m just saying if the opportunity presents itself, you may want to consider taking it. Having sex might ease the tension of this quest you are on to find a man. And after all, let’s face it; you’re not getting any younger…”
That cut right through her. “I am not an old maid!”
Suzie swatted in mid-air and headed toward the fridge. “Of course you’re not! But I do know you’ve said it has been a while and all I’m suggesting is…well, don’t let a good opportunity pass you by.”
What in the world…
The doorbell chimed.
“Places!” Suzie shuffled back toward the bar and salads. “Chop chop! Go check your face, and I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
Lyssa was sure this was the strangest conversation she’d ever had. But never mind, the good Reverend was making his entrance. And suddenly, she just wasn’t sure she was up for it.
She took off for the powder room to check her makeup, mumbling a new mantra, “Eat light…eat light…have sex…have sex….”
Chapter Seven
Rock Peters’ teeth actually glistened. At one point in the lunch conversation, Lyssa was certain a little starburst sparked off of them when he smiled.
Too damned perfect.
This man was just too damned perfect!
She couldn’t find fault with his conversation. He knew how to take a turn, reply, ask the right questions, and make her feel special. He leaned in and hung on to her every word, like she was Gandhi, or something, and spouting some thoughtful and philosophical prose.
She had to admit, that one thing in and of itself was a complete and utter turn-on.
Not to mention the fact that when he leaned forward and spoke to her, he did so in a very low and deep voice that rolled over her like thick hot fudge, enveloping her in an alluring layer of warmth and, oh yeah, sexual appeal. She nearly forgot he was a preacher!
Of course, she was certain there was nothing written in The Good Book that prohibited a preacher from being alluring and sexy. She was pretty darned certain that having some sort of charisma was a perk in his profession. Speaking and listening was his thing. They probably had to take classes and such about it in preacher school, she imagined.
Obviously, they had classes in etiquette and dressing for success, too. This man was a dream. And Lyssa was hard-pressed to pull herself out of his trance. In fact, she’d practically forgotten about Monday Suitor Number Two.
He was still talking, and she was extremely engaged in the deep blue of his eyes, and paying not one iota of attention to the conversation, when he repeated, “Ms. Larkin, I believe your purse is wiggling.”
She paid a casual glance to her small cloth clutch, sitting on the table at her right elbow.
Indeed, it was wiggling.
“Oh. Vibrator. Um, I mean, vibrat-ing. Cell phone. Incoming call. It will stop in a sec.”
And it did. “I’m choosing to ignore it.” Her gaze hooked into his and she smiled.
Rock grinned, one corner of his mouth turning up.
Lyssa cleared her throat and looked to her plate, a little embarrassed. She’d all but devoured her chicken breasts and potatoes parm. When had she done that? Heat rose to her cheeks.
What did this mean?
Could this? Could he?
Then Rock Peters reached out and grasped her left hand and pulled it across the table.
“Lyssa,” he began, “there is something I want to make clear. I am extremely enamored with you and I…”
“Twirrrp! Twirrrp!” Her purse both jiggled and trilled this time.
Jerking, she laid a hand on the purse. “Vibrating voicemail.”
“Indeed.” He chuckled. “You are a delight, Lyssa Larkin. But perhaps you should check it.”
Shaking her head, she replied, “No. I will later.”
“Are you sure? It could be important.”
“Oh, no. Probably a client.” Client? Mack? No… Stifle that thought.
“Well, if you are sure.”
She settled her gaze on him and smiled. “I’m sure.”
Squeezing her hand, he beamed back. “Lyssa, I was about to say that I would love to spend more time with…”
“BadadadaDA!”
Rock’s blue eyes disappeared behind closed lids. Lyssa slipped the purse off the table and put it under the chair. “You were saying?”
“Email?”
“Text message.”
“Someone is persistent.”
She shook her head. “I’m sure it’s not the same person. Coincidence.”
“BadadadaDA!”
“A lot of coincidences. Perhaps you should look.”
“No, it’s…”
“Lyssa, I would prefer not to have the interruption, so if you could…”
“Ding. Ding! Ding. Ding!”
“Email.” They said simultaneously.
Lyssa kicked the purse and it slid across the slick hardwood floor and under a china cabinet. She’d just have to fish it out later. “There. Out of ear’s reach.”