She could write a book anyway. Take time off of her job to pursue other interests. She didn’t have to risk her peace of mind and her heart, did she?
Did she?
Still, as she sat crowded into the small plane with three others and two pilots, she couldn’t stop the tears. Tucker was down there, watching her fly away. Watching her leave him again.
She’d both hated to call him for a ride to the airport and craved one last sight of him. If she’d have been able to think of one other person in the wrecked wedding party that might have been able to give her a ride, she’d liked to believe she wouldn’t have bothered Tucker.
Using a shred of tissue she found in her purse, she mopped her cheeks and tried to stop thinking of the only man she’d ever really loved.
*
“You just left him?” Allison held a cup of strong tea cradled in both hands. “Even though he’d kissed the bejezzus out of you? Even though you’re probably still in love with him.”
Emma wiped at her eyes and went back to staring at her cup of coffee, the hum of the other customers at the coffee shop around her. “Yes. I left...and I haven’t stopped crying since. What is the matter with me?”
Allison took a bite of her bear claw, saying in a muffled voice, “You know what’s the matter.”
She swallowed her pastry. “Look you haven’t had a serious relationship in years—“
“I have a very busy job,” Emma defended. “Who can stay involved with anyone when they’re all over the place?”
“Very true.” Her friend continued munching her pastry. “All the more reason to quit the job. You’re tired of traveling, tired of living out of a suitcase. And you said so yourself—you can’t have a life or a relationship if you’re not even on the same continent. Quit the job. You’ve been talking about it off and on for the last six months.”
“Okay. You’re right about the job…, but this situation with Tucker isn’t…. It isn’t even about the job.”
The café door opened and shut behind Emma as another couple of patrons came in, patting frozen hands together as they huddled in front of the counter.
Emma looked up at Allison. “You think I’m just afraid of not—not making it with Tucker, don’t you?”
Allison gulped her tea before swallowing as she wiped her mouth. “What I think isn’t that important. You know why you left Cupid before and why you left this time. Don’t you think it’s time to face your fears?”
*
The blustery Texas February gale promised a rare snow for this late in the month. Heck, snow outside the panhandle was a Texas rarity regardless. Leaving his office, Tucker got quickly inside his Acura, the quiet chill matching the darkness of his thoughts.
He couldn’t stop thinking of Emma. Of the shuttered expression on her face as she walked away from him at the tiny airport almost two weeks ago. Common sense told him he ought to expect to hear from her divorce lawyer any day now.
Letting himself fall for her all over again had been stupid.
The short drive to his house was accomplished in only a few minutes and he turned down his street, knowing he needed to start thinking about dating again. Hell, he hadn’t even seriously thought about another woman since he’d laid eyes on Emma in their junior year. But he needed to distract himself, to find a way to consider moving on.
Frowning as he pulled into his driveway and waited for the garage door to lift, he saw a dark car parked in front of his house. Inside, he’d barely shrugged out of his overcoat when the doorbell rang.
Tucker went through the entry hall.
Pulling the front door open, he saw Emma standing there, hunched in a coat.
“Can I come in?”
“No. I’ve got my blonde wife and three kids to consider,” he shot back.
Emma smiled. “Don’t be an ass, Tucker. Let me in.”
Even though he was so mad he could shake her, a bubble of hope began to rise in him. She was here!
He stepped back, closing the door behind her. When he turned back to her, she stood still in his entry hall.
“I’m scared.” She took a deep breath, repeating, “Scared, Tucker. Aren’t you? We didn’t do too well at this marriage thing before. What makes you think we could make it work this time?”
He shook his head. “Maybe we can’t. I don’t think there’s a guarantee.”
Emma’s shoulders seemed to sag a little. “Then, why—“
“But maybe we can,” he interrupted. “Emma, we’re not the same kids we were ten years ago. We’ve grown up. Both learned a few things.”
Her gaze was glued to his face.
Tucker leaned back against the door. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had to do some serious growing up in the past decade. I’m betting you did, too.”
“That’s true.”
“I’ve had to work with surgeons who were jerks, with patients who don’t take care of their health and expect me to work miracles. I now take care of the health of a small town. I manage an office and deal with staff.” He took a breath and blew it out. “And all that time, I kept thinking of you. Sometimes I hated you. I never actually wished you dead, but I wouldn’t have minded a little harm coming your way—“
Emma grinned. “It did and I wished you harm, too, so that’s all fair.”
Taking a step away from the door, he demanded, “Why did you come back? Just to ask me questions and make more of a case for divorce?”
“No. I—I cried all the way home when I left.” She made a wry face. “The people next to me on two different flights asked if I was okay.”
Emma shook her head a little. “I wasn’t, Tucker. I wasn’t okay. I left because…this is crazy. I was scared. I shouldn’t feel anything for you anymore. We were in the past. It shouldn’t feel like we’re a couple. Like we belong together anymore.”
“But it does,” he finished for her. “Doesn’t it? Feel like we belong together?”
She looked down at the tiled floor of the entry. “Yes.”
Tucker waited, knowing she had more to say, wanting to catch her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
“Nothing feels as right as you,” Emma met his gaze. “I think—I think I’m through running, Tucker. I want to feel you holding me. I want to learn how to listen when you’re annoyed.”
She took a deep breath. “I want to be with you.”
Not even waiting for the end of her declaration, Tucker stepped forward and took hold of the woman he loved. “Let’s get through this mess together, sweetheart. What do you say?”
Emma smiled at him through the moisture in her eyes. “I think that’s really why I came back to Cupid. For you.”
~~********~~
True Love Wears A Tutu
by Kathy Shaw
Prologue
Taking one last satisfying pull on his stogie, the Tooth Fairy stubbed the cigar out in the ashtray in front of him. He squinted through the growing cloud of smoke wafting around him and tried to focus on the Boogie Man giving this month’s personnel report—except his left wing kept fluttering up on its own accord and tickling his ear. He’d given up swatting it back into place an hour ago.
The Boogie Man, who in the real world was a seventy-five year old grandmother from Cleveland, reported the newest personnel changes to the members of the Enchanted Corp with her usual animated gusto. Her enthusiasm was only interrupted by the occasional need to dab at her drooling snout with her lace-trimmed hankie. Yet it was her sweet sing-song voice, so completely incompatible with the seven-foot, furry black exterior, which always caused new members of the Corp to do a double take when they met Mildred aka The Boogie Man.
The long-standing joke around the conference table was that centuries ago Big Foot got giggy with the earliest predecessor of today’s Brillo pad and Boogie Boy was born.
“Lastly,” Mildred paused to swipe at slobber stringing from her yellow fangs, “I want to congratulate Clarence, our former Easter Bunny, on completing his task. Also, please welcome
Bruno from Venice as our newest Easter Bunny. May your time here be both brief and fulfilling.”
The Corp members seated around the conference table applauded loudly.
“Now, everyone calm down,” Mildred said with a wave of her massive paws. “We still have to select our new Truelove Fairy.”
At the mention of the Truelove Fairy, a red velvet body suit complete with matching tutu and heels popped into view beside the podium. A second later, a lotto machine materialized behind the Boogie Man. High velocity air exploded through jets within the cylinder, turning the lotto balls into white frenzied blurs looking for escape.
Finally, one ball shot into a clear pipe extending out the side of the cylinder, and then landed with a soft thump on an awaiting cushion.
Mildred giggled like a school girl—which was very disconcerting considering her outward appearance—when she read the name on the white ball. “Tessa Somerset, a high school English teacher from Cupid, Texas.”
“The Truelove Fairy is one of my favorites,” gushed the Parking Angel as she opened the leather-bound ledger in front of her and began to scan the pages. “Let’s see who her true love is!”After a quick search through the Sidekick ledger, the Parking Angel squealed out a name. “Jack Dugan, the head football coach at the school where Tessa works!”
The Parking Angel gave one last romantic sigh as she shut the ledger and leaned back into her over-sized chair. “Ahhhh, true love.”
“Yeah, well, friggin’ hearts and flowers to everyone,” the Tooth Fairy said sarcastically, scratching his two-day stubble. “But if we’re done here, I’m late for a poker game in my real life.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Meeting adjourned.” Boogie Man rapped a gavel against the podium, and then spoiled the whole Monster-under-the-bed thing she had going with a chirpy “Toodles!”
***
What the hell had she been thinking?
When Carrie, Cupid High's drama teacher, had come running toward Tessa in a full-blown panic, she would have agreed to anything just to calm her co-worker down and avert everyone's attention away from them.
Tessa Somerset couldn't stand to be the center of attention—ever!
Now look at her. She was stuffed into a two-sizes too small ballerina costume, complete with a tutu stiff enough to support a stack of bricks. If she took even a half breath, her boobs would pop out over the bodice like a jack-in-the-box wound too tight.
Funny, the "fairy suit" hadn't been difficult to put on. But the moment the last hook snapped into place, the bright red material molded to her skin like she'd been shrink-wrapped in it. She could actually make out the indention of her belly-button just above the super-starched tutu.
And then there were the six-inch stiletto heels—that just happened to be a perfect fit, thank you very much—that accompanied the costume. They were probably considered lethal weapons in some states.
She looked more like a hooker fairy in search of a street corner than the Be-Mine fairy in this year’s Valentine play. Only a town named Cupid would have a Valentine Festival.
Tessa groaned again as she reached for the row of hooks and eyes running down her left side. She had to get out of these clothes!
There was no way in hell she was taking one step outside of the dressing room wearing this "Look-at-me! Look-at-me!" getup—much less strut across stage in front of a packed auditorium of ogling parents. Nope, Joyce was just going to have to find a replacement for her replacement.
Moments later, Tessa was still wrestling—without success—with the fastenings running down her side when Carrie rushed into the dressing room. "You're off the hook. The original fairy just showed up, in the real costume and ready to go on. Gotta go."
Thank God!
Tessa barely noticed Carrie leaving as waves of relief washed over her. She inhaled deeply, taking her first calm breath since she'd foolishly agreed to step into the MIA-fairy's slippers—or in this case, stilettos. But not too deeply, there was still the imminent threat of baring more than the obscene amount of cleavage already exposed.
Suddenly, the most important thing in her world was escaping the "fairy" suit. She needed to feel the comforting shelter of grays, browns and pale pastels.
She attacked the fasteners with renewed vigor.
*
Jack Dugan had a game plan—scoring with Tessa Somerset.
Actually, his game plan had a lot more to do with scouting than scoring. He wasn't just looking for a quick score. Tessa intrigued him on many levels.
Hence, the need for a game plan.
Of course, being Cupid’s football coach, he knew getting a win took time and a multi-faceted strategy. Luckily, he was a patient man. At least, when it came to the sexy-as-hell English teacher, Ms. Somerset. He'd had his eye on her since the beginning of the school year. Now that football season was over, he intended to focus all his extra-curricular attention on Tessa.
He fully expected to have to drop back and punt once or twice during their interplay, but he knew before the final whistle blew on their game, he'd be victorious. Her goal-line defense didn't stand a chance against his unstoppable red zone offense.
Hell, he was even looking forward to the contest of wits ahead of him. Instinct told him Tessa would be a formidable opponent.
She was skittish, yet there was something about her that warranted a closer look. Something about her needled at him.
She had just the right mixture of intelligence, spunk and down-home humor that intrigued him. From the moment he'd met her, he'd known she was a bright, compassionate woman.
It was also obvious she was a straight-up-the-middle runner. Unlike some women who made a man dizzy trying to keep up with their continuous flea-flickers and stunt plays, a person always knew right where Tessa stood and her intentions.
Jack would bet a dollar to a donut hole that if Tessa Somerset said something, she meant it.
Granted she had never invited him for tea and crumpets—or whatever English teachers serve, but she'd never told him to go away and leave her alone either. Which meant there was hope.
Jack turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips, then stepped out into his private locker room just off his office.
Maybe that was the attraction. Maybe it was more of the challenge of the chase and not the woman that had him so interested.
A vision of Tessa's long, blond hair, her light-blue eyes and her come-hither curves that she thought she hid beneath her dull, loose-fitting clothes flashed across his mind.
Then again, maybe not.
Jack mentally shrugged. It didn't matter what fired his interest. It just was.
Yep, he was definitively stoked when it came to Tessa Somerset.
With his mind on his impending pursuit of Tessa, he mindlessly reached for the clothes he'd hung on the hook beside the shower stall—and came up empty-handed.
Jarred from his thoughts, he glanced around for his clothes. Nothing.
Great! Somehow he didn't think showing up wearing only a towel and a smile was the way to get in Tessa's good graces.
He knew he'd hung his still-in-the-cleaners-bag jeans and shirt on the hook this morning. He was even pretty sure they had been hanging there when he stepped into the shower.
Damn, he didn't want to put on the sweaty T-shirt and warm-ups he'd worn all day. He and the kids had run lines and then played basketball until time to shower. Only he didn't shower after every PE period like the kids. Needless to say, at the end of the day, he and his clothes reeked.
Now fresh out of the shower, he loathed the idea of putting on his smelly, sweaty gym clothes. He reached inside the small wicker hamper where he'd thrown his nasty clothes just moments ago and came up empty-handed—again. Even the week's worth of gym towels he forgot to take home last night were gone.
What the hell?
A parade of goose bumps prickled up his spine as the theme song from the Twilight Zone whistled through his mind. He spun around, thinking one of the other coaches was playing a joke
on him. The small, private bathroom was empty, save for him. He even stuck his head out the door and glanced around his office.
Nobody.
"Weird," he muttered as he eased the door shut and turned to face the small locker room.
That's when he saw it. A black sweater encased in a clear plastic bag hanging on the same hook where he'd hung his jeans and shirt earlier that morning.
"How the hell…" Jack crossed the space between him and the clothes in two strides.
There was a note pinned to the plastic.
TRUELOVE WEARS A TUTU
Jack stared at the note for a long moment before turning his attention to the clothes inside the clear bag. The black, turtle-neck sweater and wool slacks seemed to be the right size. There was even a smaller bag with black silk boxers and a pair of black socks. Not that he was too impressed with the small red hearts that dotted the boxer shorts and toes of the socks, but he could live with them. Knowing he was the only one who would know what decorated his shorts helped ease the screams of what little fashion sense he possessed.
Only half-registering the black boots sitting on the bench below his new-found clothes, he dropped his towel and began to dress. The whole black thing was a little over the top for him, but what the hay. He was naked and desperate!
*
Tessa peeked out the side door of the school and sighed in relief. Finally, the employee parking lot was deserted. Well, almost deserted. Jack Dugan's pickup was parked a few yards from her tan Civic, but there was no sign of him anywhere. He'd probably hooked up with Samantha, the school librarian after the play for coffee and nookie—cookies, she meant, cookies.
She mentally shook her head, chastising herself for her petty thoughts, then tried to refocus on the problem at hand. She didn't have time to think about Jack Dugan and his Casanova ways, not that she cared. She needed to get the hell out of Dodge, or in this case Cupid High School—and fast!
Taking a deep, bracing breath, she tugged the Dracula cape she'd swiped—borrowed, she meant, borrowed—from the wardrobe room tightly around her shoulders and then made a mad dash toward her car. She was almost there when the interior light of Jack's pickup came on. Skidding to a stop, she cursed under her breath.
Return to Cupid, Texas (3 Valentine Novellas) Page 7