by Maddie James
Emphasis on coffee shop.
Jillian nodded. “Yes, Sydney Schul. Oh, Kellerman now, right? I know who you are. Best scones of the south. .”
Sydney’s eyes grew a little wide. “Yes, that’s right. How did you...?”
The other woman, the shorter one with the strawberry-blonde hair stepped forward and took her hand then. Firm shake, meant business. Jillian liked her already. “I’m Suzie Matthews,” she told her. “Sydney and I are cousins and sometimes business partners.”
“And you are The Matchmaking Chef.” Jillian smiled. “I’ve seen every one of your shows. I love them!”
Suzie gave her a hesitant grin then. “Oh, yes. That’s me. You know me?”
Huffing a breath that lifted her bangs, Jillian said, “Oh my goodness, yes! I’ve watched you from the beginning. I loved that magazine spread in Southern’s Best showcasing your bed and breakfast, too. I mean, seeing that, it was one of the reasons I sought out Legend. I was looking for a small town, you know, and the pictures in the magazine, well. And speaking of Southern’s Best,” she turned to Sydney, “what a coup to land the Best Scones of the South title out from under Stone Kellerman, then to land him as your husband, as well. What a story! I mean, if that just isn’t...”
Pausing, she took another deep breath. Slow down, Jillian. Too much.
Sydney and Suzie stared at her.
“I’m sorry,” Jillian plunged in again. “I can talk too much sometimes, and too fast. It’s the New Yorker in me. But I’m learning to be slower. Here. In the south. Please, sit down, and let me get you a cup of coffee.” She headed behind the counter, cringing at her clumsy words.
“We just came by to say hello.”
And to check me out.
Turning, Jillian glanced back at the two women. Sydney was wringing her hands. Suzie stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Uh-oh. She faced them again. “Ladies, look. I know what you must be thinking.”
“What do you think we’re thinking, Ms. Bass?”
Oh dear, Ms. Bass?
She bit her lip. “Well, if I were you,” she squared herself in front of the women, “I would be thinking, who is this hussy coming in here and hedging in on our world? Our business? After all, she’s a total stranger. Not local. Sweeping in here and thinking she can win over our customers. Competition. That’s what I’d be thinking.”
This time she watched Sydney bite her lip. “Well, not really, I never thought that.”
The shorter woman scowled at her cousin, then stepped closer to Jillian. “That’s exactly what we’ve been thinking,” she said then, “right down to the hussy part.”
There was one brief second of silence, then all three women burst out laughing.
“Hussy,” Sydney repeated.
Jillian laughed louder. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that.”
“Have you ever been called heifer?”
“No!”
Suzie grinned. “Well, you’re in the south, honey, get used to it.”
“Oh dear...”
They laughed again, and finally, they all three stopped. Jillian decided this was her chance.
“Look, Sydney and Suzie. I have no desire to horn in on your business. What I’m eventually opening here is a candy store. Chocolates. And on the side I’ll offer the chocolate and coffee-flavored drinks. Just until I get my candy-making equipment here and set up in the back. So please, relax, okay? I really and truly wish that we can be friends. Truly.”
She felt like she was begging. Well, maybe she was, a little. She wanted and needed to make it in this town. Not that she was entirely certain why, she just did.
It was Sydney who stepped up to her then, reached for her hand, and gave her a firm handshake this time. “Well then,” she said, “welcome to Legend, Jillian Bass.”
Chapter Two
As the three women made their way to the front door of Bittersweets, Jillian realized they were talking a mile-a-minute, like they were old friends, rather than having just met five minutes earlier. Of course, she reminded herself, this was the south, not Manhattan, and friend factors took on different modes here.
So the chatter died, the two cousin’s made their way back up Main Street toward Sugar High, and Jillian started back inside her own establishment, then abruptly stopped, remembering she’d left a stack of mail in her car that she’d wanted to go through, and whirled around again right into. .
“Umph.” A chest. Man chest.
“Hey Suze! Syd! Wait!”
“Wha—?”
Somewhere in the confusion, her ankle twisted, a sharp pain cracked up the inside of her foot, and she went down to the concrete sidewalk in a little heap.
“Oh, hell. I’m sorry.” A man’s voice said.
“Ow.”
“Are you okay?”
Hands. Man hands. Not too big, not too small. Nice. Helping her up.
“Oh, ouch.” Damned ankle.
Then another set. Two men?
“Oh, thank you.”
She righted herself, reached down to inspect her right ankle, then glanced to the two men before her. One was familiar, and he was looking off behind her down the sidewalk. Suzie Matthews’ husband, Brad. Yes, that was him, owner of the Lodge. Let no one say that she had not done her homework before moving to Legend.
Her gaze swiveled then to the man standing next to Brad. The one who had a gentle squeeze on her elbow, and who was steadying her as she stood perched on one foot, her right ankle poised in the air while she prodded to see if she could feel pain.
How she took all of this in within the few short seconds of her banging into the man, tumbling to the ground, and being snatched back up again, she didn’t know. But she had.
“Oh, thank you,” she said again, now looking directly into the man’s eyes. Which were brown. Darker than a milk chocolate and lighter than semi-sweet. But just as tempting as either.
“I should look where I’m going,” she added.
Finally Chocolate Eyes spoke to her. “Actually I love a cute meet like this. You know, helping a damsel in distress? Are you okay? What’s your name?”
A bit taken aback, she stammered out, “Jill. Jillian. You?”
He smiled, and she lowered her right foot to the ground. She needed it to anchor herself from what that smile did to her insides.
Ouch. That hurt a bit though.
“I’m Scott.” He pointed to his left. “You might already know this guy. He’s Brad, my brother.”
Ah, she didn’t do her homework so well after all. Brad Matthews had a brother? “Actually I’m new in town.”
Brad thrust out his hand. “Glad to finally meet you, Jillian. I’m Brad Matthews, and the woman heading that way is...”
Finally Jillian felt coherent enough to speak in sentences. “Yes. Your wife. Suzie Matthews and her cousin Sydney too. They just left here.”
“Oh?” Brad’s eyebrow rose.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And...?”
She figured she knew what he was fishing for. “And all is fine.”
Physically, Brad’s stature seemed to lower, and he exhaled. “Good.” Then glancing back up the street toward his wife, he shouted again. “Hey, woman!”
Jillian, teetering on her toe, not fully putting weight on her foot and still being semi-held up by the brother, whose fingertips were rather hot on her elbow she might add, watched Suzie whip back. She let out a little squeal, grabbed her cousin by the arm, and ran back toward the trio.
“Scotty!” She practically leapt into the man’s arms. He let go of her elbow, and Jillian, well, taken off guard a bit, stumbled backward again, and into the doorway of Bittersweets.
“Well, hell!” Brad shouted.
Sydney lunged to grab her before she went all the way down.
Suzie froze in mid-hug with Scott, who sported a wide-eyed startle on his face. Jillian wasn’t sure if it was from the fact that she was a clumsy fool, or that Suzie had a death-grip around his
neck.
She figured it was par for the course. This ankle was going to hurt, come hell or high-water. Not a good scenario for opening up a new business, and one where she had to be on her feet a lot.
Darn it.
“Oh, crap. I am so sorry!” Suzie released Scott and helped to right Jillian, who hopped on one foot again. “Are you okay?”
“Well, it’s the second time she’s been taken down in, oh…” Scott glanced at his watch, “two minutes, I’d say.” Then he moved toward her. “Here. Let me.”
And before Jillian could even fathom it, Scott Matthews had picked her up, carried her into Bittersweets, and set her down in one of her café chairs. The crowd followed.
“We need to prop that ankle.” Suzie scooted another chair.
“Pillow. She needs a pillow or something.” Sydney skittered off, glanced about, and came back with a rolled up apron.
Jillian protested. “I’m really okay. Truly. It’s just a little twist.”
Brad leaned over, inspecting her angle. “I don’t know, Jillian. It looks like it’s swelling.”
“Ice! We need ice. I’ll get some.”
“Truly,” Jillian begged, “It’s fine.” She wiggled her toes in her sandals. This was embarrassing. Would they think her clumsy and incompetent? Oh, goodness. “Really, it’s okay. See? I’ll stand up and prove it to you.” So she did just that. Pushed back from the table and stood.
Then immediately yelped and sat back down again.
“See? Where is your ice?” Suzie stood with her hands on her hips.
“In the back,” Jillian relented.
All three of them then, Suzie, Sydney and even Brad, moved to the back room. Exhaling deep, she looked up at Scott, the last person standing. “Sorry. I’m a klutz.”
He grinned. “No, I think it was me, and then it was my sister-in-law. I don’t think you had a thing to do with it.” He glanced at her ankle then dragged a chair over to sit. “Mind if I take a look?”
She shrugged, still embarrassed. “I don’t mind.”
Carefully, Scott unclasped the leather buckle strap that went around the top of her foot. He then removed her sandal and set it on the floor. What happened next was simply amazing. At least, Jillian thought, for herself.
With his big hands, Scott cradled her foot. Slowly, he grazed his palm over her ankle, the warmth of skin radiating through to the bone. He caressed and thumbed over a slight puffy area on the inside of her foot.
It all felt heavenly, sending warm and fuzzy, and a little bit naughty sensations up her leg and pointing to....
Well, she wasn’t going to think about that. Not at the moment, anyway.
“Looks like it’s starting to bruise just a little right here.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off her foot yet. His forefinger made a little circle above her arch. “See?”
Um, Scott, please stop that. That sort of feels real nice.
She leaned closer, and as she did, he lifted his gaze to connect with hers. Jillian’s heart did a little jump at the contact. And when Scott didn’t immediately tear his gaze away, she prayed that she could hold the stare as long as he could.
“Ankle still hurting?” he whispered.
“What ankle?”
Scott chuckled and held her small foot in his big hands tighter. “This one.”
Finally she did break away. “Oh. Oh!” Suddenly self-conscious, she looked totally away.
“Of course. Yes. It feels much better now.”
A ruckus erupted coming through the door. “We have ice!”
Her glance skipped back to Scott’s face. He smiled and pushed away. She watched as Suzie and Sydney took over, elevating the foot, getting the ice pack just right, bringing her water and Ibuprofen, and pretty much cooing over her.
The men stood back and watched.
“Thank you, ladies. This is truly so very nice of you. I appreciate it so, but really, I’m good now.”
Finally, the women stopped their pampering madness, stood back, and surveyed their handiwork. “Call me if you need anything, you hear me?” Suzie looked her straight in the eye. “I’m in the book.”
“And I’m just down the street.” That, from Sydney.
“Thank you,” Jillian told them. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. And you both have businesses to run. I promise I will not bother you unnecessarily.”
Suzie batted at the air. “Oh, pooh! It’s what we do.”
That’s right. I’m in the South now.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“Now, we need to be off. Scott, you ready for breakfast?”
Scott nodded. “Absolutely,” he latched once more into Jillian’s gaze. “Nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Take care of that ankle now.” Then he did something that she thought extremely interesting. Scott Matthews leaned into her and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Right at the left corner of her mouth. She hoped Suzie and Sydney didn’t see the obvious sparks that crackled off of that little kiss. Because she felt them really good, they had to be visible, right?
“Ciao, babe.”
“Um. You, too,” she squeaked out, watching them all head out the front door.
****
Later that morning, after Suzie had fed them all a huge country breakfast of blueberry pancakes, complete with powdered sugar and special-order maple syrup, plump sausage links, sunny-side up eggs, and cinnamon coffee, Scott pushed back from the table and looked over his family.
He’d not seen Brad for years, about six to be exact. They’d both been busy building careers, and his brother had been busy building a life and a family. Yes, his brother had built a quite fine life for himself, despite their parents’ dysfunction.
Him? Well, he’d built a career, but as for relationships, he’d collected them and dismissed them when they got in the way.
Made life easier. At least for him.
Again, he perused the happy family in front of him. The house was warm and cozy and the setting ideal. Suzie was a businesswoman as well as a chef, with the B&B and her cookbooks and television show. Brad had his own little kingdom at the Lodge, which they would head off to later. He was eager to get to his cabin. But first, he needed to spend this time with his family. The first family time he’d had in a long, long time.
Family time was something he had avoided ever since the big family trip of all times.
But what could it hurt? Not like he was going to get so attached he wouldn’t go back to Italy, right? He’d be gone again in a couple of weeks. That was just enough time for his boss to cool her heels a bit and for him to lay low for a while.
He’d get his job back...eventually.
Legend was a quaint, appealing place, and even though he was too much of a gypsy, the thought of settling in here with the fam for a while was rather nice.
A diversion of sorts.
And Suzie? Well, she was a dream wife for Brad. He’d only met her briefly at the wedding; had flown in and out so quickly when Brad had called to tell him he was getting married. The impromptu wedding had happened during his busiest season. He didn’t feel like he knew her well, but well enough, since they talked occasionally on the phone and had exchanged tons of pictures and conversations through Facebook. He felt like he knew Petey already, but meeting the young boy in person had nearly melted his heart.
The child reminded him so much of he and Brad when they were young—stocky build, freckles, sandy hair, and brown eyes. His hair might be a bit lighter than Brad’s, but he attributed that to Suzie’s strawberry-blonde genetics.
“Uncle Scott,” the boy began, while sidling up to him at the table, “want to walk down to the lake with me? Dad says that maybe we can take the boat out and do a little fishing later.”
Fishing? Scott looked to Brad. “Seriously? I was thinking about that earlier. I’ve not been fishing in way too many years.”
Brad nodded. “Seriously. It’s become a habit for me.” He grinned. “Guess I’m getting to be an old man. Remember when Grandpa could
n’t go a day without heading to the creek? I’m sure some of it was to get out of the house, but there is just something calming about wetting a line.”
Calming. He could sure use that. Life had been way too hectic of late.
“Oh, pooh, Brad! Scott doesn’t want to go fishing.”
“Well, as a matter-of-fact...”
She turned and grinned, leaning into the table. “He wants to stay here and tell me about the chocolate business. I’m fascinated. I want to hear more.”
That was actually the last thing he wanted to talk about. Glancing to his brother, he hoped to shoot him a “get me out of this” look. And his brother obliged and stood.
“No work talk. We agreed, right Suze? I want to show Scott the lake.”
Scott watched her push back, a slight pout on her face as she looked at her husband. “Oh, all right.” Then she reached for his hand and patted the back of it. “You boys go off and play. I’ll clean up the kitchen. I have to think about dinner now.”
The thought of dinner when his belly was bursting with late breakfast was almost unpleasant. “Ugh. In that case, I do need to go walk off some of this meal.” He stood and gave his sister-in-law a peck on the cheek. “Your cooking is to die for,” he whispered. “I’m going to gain ten pounds in the next two weeks, I can tell.”
Suzie blushed then gave him a hug. “It’s so good to have you here, Scott,” she whispered in his ear.
She had no clue how good it was for him.
****
It was way too late for her to still be at Bittersweets, but you know what they say about start-up businesses. You eat, sleep, and drink them for a couple of years or more to get things off the ground. To say that she was driven was an understatement, because she, Jillian Bass, was driven.
This had to work. It was her dream, it was her tribute to her grandmother, it was her life. She’d lived high society, and it had never fit. She’d worked corporate, and that didn’t work for her either. As the only child of a publishing mogul, and the sole heir to her grandmother’s fortune, you would have thought she’d just be content to sit back, let the money roll in, and live.