by Parin, Sonia
“A dress. You were supposed to get jeans, and you could have if you hadn’t been so fussy.”
Elizabeth tugged at the hem of her new dress. It felt girly, the pretty floral print not something she would normally have worn or have been allowed to wear…
Joyce laughed. “Eddie can’t complain. Until she met Theo, she was rarely seen out of her jeans, now it’s the complete opposite. Still, we’re going to have to do something about getting you into denim…”
And she’d let them because it would be fun.
Elizabeth tuned out, her eyes skating over the crowd. She’d lived in the city all her life, yet she’d never ventured inside a pub, and she’d never been to the same café twice. And here she was, on the way to becoming one of the regulars at The Gloriana and Joyce’s Café.
When the set ended and the band took a break, Joyce signaled she wanted to make an announcement.
“I’m not taking any more bets. The book’s closed.”
Feeling another wave of heat sweep through her, Elizabeth’s eyes strayed toward the bar. Again, Mitch held her gaze for what seemed like an eternity, and then he turned away to take an order. Nothing but coincidence, she told herself.
“How will we know if he… you know… if he breaks his oath?” Hannah, the breakfast chef, asked.
Both Eddie and Joyce laughed. “Everyone will know. There’ll be an extra twinkle in his eye.”
Elizabeth took a sip of her drink and tilting her head, she tucked a stray lock behind her ear, at the same time slanting her gaze toward the bar. Mitch was pouring a beer. He handed it over to the customer and before he turned to the next customer, he looked her way.
Okay. That was the third time. But then, what did she expect when she too was looking at him. He was probably wondering why she kept glancing his way. In fact, warning bells were probably ringing in his head, like a stalker alert…
“A twinkle. That’s hardly proof,” Elizabeth said. “What if he’s simply happy about something else? Like… finding his favorite pair of socks? You know how socks go missing all the time.”
Eddie smiled. “Joyce, do you want to do the honors or shall I?”
Joyce nodded. “It’s taken us many hours of patient scrutinizing, but we finally cracked the code.” Joyce rolled up her sleeves and leaned forward. “If you look at Mitch now, you’ll see he’s busy. He’ll be like that all night, serving drinks from one end of the bar to the other. People will come and go, but there’ll always be someone staking a claim on his attention, sitting somewhere in the bar. You just have to follow his gaze and see where it lands. Like now. See, he’s looking this way, so I’m going to tag the area like a crime scene. Next time he looks this way, I’ll pay closer attention and see where his gaze lands.”
Elizabeth took a quick sip of her drink, and then held the cold glass against her cheek. “He could just be looking because…” she shrugged, “It’s like working at a computer for long hours. You have to take a break and look into the distance to rest your eyes.” She considered switching seats, but she couldn’t think of an excuse.
“Wait for it… wait for it,” Joyce said and drummed her hands on the table. “Here it comes. Bingo! He’s looking this way.”
Elizabeth ducked her head and searched her bag. She always carried so much stuff, surely there had to be something in there she could pull out. A much needed… candy wrapper. Book. Lipstick.
“Hannah, is there something you’d like to tell us?” Joyce asked.
“Who? Me? He wasn’t looking at me.”
Maybe she should go up to the bar and warn Mitch to stop looking her way because if he didn’t, everyone would think they were having sex tonight.
“I’m sure he was looking at Elizabeth,” Hannah said.
Elizabeth looked up, a lollipop in her hand. “Me? Why? Oh, you know what... he paid for jam today and I didn’t give him the change—” Because he’d taken off like a bat out of hell. “Actually... he’s probably still trying to figure me out.” She shrugged. “Guys don’t react well to crazy women who struggle with Puff Doughnuts.” She waved her lollipop. “I’m getting better. Look, I keep this in my bag in case I get a sudden craving for sugar.”
“Hannah,” Eddie said, “I think you’re right.” Eddie leaned over to Joyce and whispered something in her ear.
“Oh, yeah...” Joyce laughed.
“What?”
“Eddie just said Mitch is probably wondering where you got the rhubarb from.”
It didn’t occur to ask why he’d be interested. She was simply too relieved to realize the spotlight had shifted, the conversation then meandering off in another direction. And then Joyce clapped her hands.
“Hey, Trent Peters is taking the stage.”
“What’s his special talent?” Hannah asked.
“He can give Mitch a run for his money in the bad boy department. He has a knack for making several women feel they’re the center of attention. Just watch him, by the end of the song he’s going to have you thinking you’re the one.”
“He’s never had that effect on me,” Eddie said, “Then again, I never look at his eyes.”
“That’s because you’re too busy looking elsewhere. The way he stands, all loose limbed...” Joyce shivered.
They all turned to admire his lanky physique. Elizabeth tried to pay homage and show an adequate amount of reverence to his obvious good looks. Trent Peters had the package deal, but once again, her thoughts strayed to an unshaven, ruffled haired—
Time to own up to the fact that she was attracted to Mitch Faydon.
That put her in a bit of a jam...
A real pickle.
Fleeing from a bad relationship, jumping straight into another one was the last thing she should be thinking about.
She’d landed in this quaint little town with only one thought in mind. To be happy and that meant revamping her life by doing what made her happy. It sounded simple enough. Eventually, she supposed the real Elizabeth Charles would step out from the shadows and shine. But what if she already had? And what if this new, improved version would like nothing better than to walk on the wild side and take a chance on someone, give in to the wanting stirring inside her?
She turned toward the bar. She had a good thing going in Eden. She’d landed on her feet and had found new friends and a new purpose. Why complicate something that was already working well for her? If this new Elizabeth came with an inbuilt buffer, a thicker skin, something, anything to guard her against the pain of heartbreak and disappointment, then maybe...
She shook her head.
This wasn’t the time to take unnecessary risks…
* * *
“There’s a nip in the air,” Joyce said and turned up the collar of her jacket.
Elizabeth stepped out of the pub. Wrapped up in a blanket of lusty warmth, she didn’t feel the cold. “Thank you all for celebrating with me tonight. Even if it is a little premature.”
The Wright sisters hugged her again. “We’ll be spreading our toast with rhubarb jam tomorrow morning.”
Joyce came up to her, her lips quirked into an impish smile. “Elizabeth, don’t make me lose my bet.”
“What?”
“You girls ready?”
Elizabeth swung around, the sight of Mitch sending her stomach into a swan dive.
“We’ve got fences to check tomorrow morning, so we’ll be getting up at the crack of dawn,” Sophie said, “You’ll need to drop us off first. Then Eddie and then Elizabeth.”
Mitch opened the back and front passenger doors of his four-wheel drive. “Eddie’s crashing in her old room at the pub tonight. So it’s just you three girls.”
“I’ve got my car,” Elizabeth said and dug inside her handbag for her keys.
“That’s not the way it works. You drink, you don’t drive.”
“I only had two drinks.”
Mitch shrugged. “Makes no difference.”
“What about you?”
“I worked tonight. No dr
inking.”
“You’ve been inhaling alcoholic fumes all night… and… and I can’t leave my car here.”
Mitch snatched her car keys from her. “I’ll drive it in tomorrow and you can give me a lift back to town. Now come on. I’m beat.”
“You take your road safety very seriously,” she said and jumped in the front passenger seat because Sophie and Helena had already taken their places in the back.
“Yep. And we brook no argument.”
* * *
Helena and Sophie chatted nonstop all the way to their place, making his silence that much more obvious. Then again, he had to focus on driving. He had the two-lane road all to himself, but out this way, cars and wildlife could come from out of nowhere when least expected.
The twenty-minute drive out to the Wright farm felt like an eternity. Mitch tried to mentally prepare himself for the drive back to Rosebud Cottage by scratching around for a few ready-made conversation fillers.
He really hadn’t wanted to do this tonight, of all nights when he had his head full of… Elizabeth. Mitch had tried to switch with Markus and then with Matthew, but neither one had been open to bribery. As far as they were concerned, it was Mitch’s turn to play taxi. Again.
“Say your goodnights, girls. We’re coming up to your place.” The words tumbled out just as he’d rehearsed them for the last ten minutes. Once the girls got out, he’d be alone in the car with Elizabeth. He’d spent the night in a trance, spellbound by the sight of her, obsessively checking to see if she was having a good time while keeping an eye out on anyone who might be showing an interest in her.
Trent Peters had been the first to ask about her, followed by several others. His first instinct had been to lie and say she wasn’t available. Realizing he had no right to stake a claim on Elizabeth when he was still determined to steer clear of all women, he’d shrugged and had said he had no idea. But his tone of voice had said it all. Stay away from her, or else.
He brought his four-wheel drive to a stop.
“Sophie, Helena, try not to make a racket going in. Last time your dad came out with a shotgun.”
“He likes keeping you on your toes, Mitch. Have a good night you two.” Sophie and Helena walked arm in arm toward their front door.
Turning to smile at Elizabeth, Mitch put his car into gear. Return trips always felt quicker. This should be a breeze, he thought.
“This is the first time I’ve been out and about at night. It’s so dark out here,” Elizabeth said.
“No street lights.” He swallowed and told himself to stay relaxed and not get tongue tied again.
“I’ve never seen so many stars.”
“If you look long enough, you’ll see satellites crisscrossing the sky.”
“Really? I’m going to have to do a bit of stargazing when I get back to the cottage.”
Okay, so far so good. But he could’ve done without that mental image of Elizabeth standing on the veranda gazing at the night sky. He wanted to tell her it wouldn’t be any fun unless she could lean against someone…
“You left without getting your change today.”
“Keep it for next time.” He considered putting on some music but then she might think he wanted to avoid talking to her, or that he wanted to set the mood… which he did... because it was his natural tendency. “Are you going to stick with it? Jam... making jam... jam making.” Steady your breathing, Mitch. He shifted in his seat and tried to quieten down his mental dialogue. At the rate he was going, he wouldn’t be surprised if he started talking out loud to himself, issuing prompts…
She laughed. “I’m playing it by ear. It sort of fell on my lap.” She brushed her hands along her thighs. “I’m still not sure if I know what I’m doing.”
His heart started playing an erratic beat.
“A part of me feels I’m making it all up as I go. What if I wake up tomorrow and see fingers pointing my way accusing me of being a fake? Also, sticking with the jam making means growing the idea into a business and I don’t have the first clue about expansion and marketing.”
Self-doubt was unfamiliar territory for Mitch. He’d always been sure of himself. Then again, he’d never had to make any major decisions in his life. Thinking he should say something supportive, he fished around for a tried and tested platitude, or something with a positive spin. “That’s an advantage. You have a fresh perspective. You can... do things your own way. Be a daredevil.” Okay, you can stop now, he told himself. “No one’s going to judge you. Or say you’re doing the wrong thing.”
The passenger window rolled down. “Sorry, I need some air.”
To clear away the crap he was feeding her?
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Just after midnight.”
“It’s Saturday,” she said under her breath and rolled the window further down.
“Do you need me to stop the car?” She’d only had a couple of drinks. Maybe she suffered from motion sickness. No, that couldn’t be it. They were on a straight road. “I’ll pull over.” When she didn’t object, he wondered if she’d heard him. What if he pulled over and she panicked? He slanted his gaze toward her and saw her fanning herself. Oh, crap. He pulled over and, jumping out of the car, he went around to her side and opened the passenger door. When he leaned in to ask if he could do something, she flung her arms around his neck.
Was she having a panic attack?
“Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Lately, I’ve become... impulsive.”
He noticed she didn’t let go. And just as well, because he wanted to draw her against him, and he did, but then he stopped. “So, this is an impulse and now you’re wishing you hadn’t given in to it?”
She laughed. “The idea sort of gathered momentum when you stopped the car.”
She didn’t sound flustered. “I’m glad I did.” But, now what? He gave himself a mental kick. He was Mitch Faydon. He knew what came next. Then again, Elizabeth seemed to know what she wanted and how to go about getting it. Maybe he should leave matters in her capable hands, let her take the lead. He might actually like where she led him…
It sounded like a plan to him. His body was in gear and raring to go and his mind had already switched into automatic mode, powering down on non-essential thinking, shutting the door on any thought that might muddle him.
He had half a mind to pull back and give her some breathing space, but then she pressed her sweet body against his, her hands sweeping across his shoulders to his chest, roaming around like an explorer mapping out new territory.
She set the rhythm and he followed, giving and taking, stroke for stroke, the build up making him strain to the point that he had to mentally pull back and wonder if this was really going where he thought it should go.
“Mitch, I’m not going to stop. I can’t believe I just said that…” Her breath hitched and with a small nod, she leaned in and met his mouth, her lips brushing against his with unexpected confidence, then plunging into a deep kiss, the sort that sparked flames and led to hot, hungry sex.
He hauled her against him. Elizabeth gave a moan of satisfaction, her hands making quick work of unfastening his belt.
It took him by surprise.
Mitch Faydon taken by surprise?
“I hope you know what you’re doing—”
She shook her head. “No. No talking.”
She sounded sure of herself and Mitch didn’t have it in him to do the thinking for her. Only one thought sparked in his mind. In all his years of living in the country, he’d never once had sex under the stars, by the side of a road.
“We should go somewhere.”
She shook her head. “Here. Now.”
Her command made it past the cloud of chemistry bubbling inside him, swirling around them, both arousal and desire laced with urgency, leaving no room for practicalities.
“I’ll figure it out,” he said.
“What?” she asked against his mouth, her hands easing onto his shoulders, and then moving alon
g to his chest then up to the collar of his shirt, pushing it back, her fingertips brushing his skin, sending wave after wave of white-hot shivers around his body.
With a soft growl, Mitch reached down the side of the seat and, taking hold of her waist, he pulled the seat adjustor, sending them both toppling back. Elizabeth pressed her mouth against his neck and laughed.
“I didn’t think this far ahead,” she said.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
And so did she. Her body curled up against him, engaging all his senses, making him aware of an unfamiliar need. More than the usual surge of sexual need or the hurried demand for physical release. Something entirely different surged inside him. A need to connect in some way…
Mitch held his breath, taking stock of where they were, what they were doing, but then the gentle brush of her hand across his cheek drew him down. His mouth sought hers and plunged them into a rhythmic kiss that moved them past any sense of awkwardness and into something that felt oddly familiar, almost as if it was meant to be.
“Protection,” she murmured against his neck.
“Back pocket.”
Chapter Eight
It took Mitch a moment to put all the pieces together and come up with…
“Somewhere there’s a village missing an idiot.” He brushed his hand across his eyes. “And here I am.”
From their first encounter, Mitch had known Elizabeth was going through some sort of transition. A journey of self-discovery. He was sure he’d said something along those lines. So he had no reason to plead ignorance. She was vulnerable. And…
He’d taken advantage of her.
Unless… She’d used sex as a way to achieve whatever she’d set out to prove.
I need to do this for me…
He remembered her saying that when they’d first met. And last night, making the first move, leading the way, setting the pace... Had that been her way of taking charge and doing something for herself instead of…
“Being told what to do,” he said under his breath as if a light switch had suddenly been flipped on and he had full insight into the workings of her mind.