by Annie Rains
“I’m ready if you are,” she said, stepping onto the porch and closing the front door behind her. She looked out into the driveway. “Oh, you drove something with four wheels today. I was ready for the bike, but I admit I’m kind of relieved.”
“The bike grew on you a little bit?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I could get used to it. My mother would probably kill you if she knew you put me on a motorcycle last night.”
“I was rescuing you from being stranded in a dark parking lot,” he pointed out.
“The lesser of two evils.”
Paris jumped ahead to open her door, winning a curious look from her as well as a new blush on her cheeks—this one not due to makeup.
“Thanks.”
He closed the door behind her and then jogged around to the driver’s side. Once he was seated behind the steering wheel, he looked over. “Looks like Jere got your car back okay.” He gestured toward her Honda Accord parked in front of a single-car garage.
“He left it and texted me afterward. No charge. He said he owed you.” Lacy’s brows subtly lifted.
“See, it pays to hang around me.” Paris started the engine. “I was thinking we could stop in and check on Mrs. Townsend first.”
Lacy pointed a finger at him. “I love that idea, even though I’m on to you, Paris Montgomery. You’re really just procrastinating because you’re scared of Mr. Jenson.”
He grimaced as he drove toward the Sweetwater hospital. “That’s probably true.”
They chatted easily as he drove, discussing all of Lacy’s plans for the library this summer. She talked excitedly about her work, which he found all kinds of attractive. Then he pulled into the hospital parking lot, and they both got out.
“We shouldn’t go see Mrs. Townsend empty-handed,” Lacy said as they walked toward the main entrance.
“We can swing by the gift shop before we go up,” he suggested.
“Good idea. She likes magazines, so I’ll get her a couple. I hope Abby and Willow are okay. It had to be confusing for them, watching their nanny being taken away in an ambulance.”
“The girls only have one parent?” he asked.
“Their mother isn’t around,” Lacy told him.
Paris slid his gaze over. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway. “What happened to their mom?” He’d heard a lot of stories from his foster siblings growing up. There were so many reasons for a parent to slip out of the picture. His story was rather boring in comparison to some. His parents didn’t like abiding by the law, which left him needing supplementary care at times. Then they’d decided that another thing they didn’t like was taking care of him.
“Their mother left right after Willow was born. There was speculation that maybe she had postpartum depression.”
Paris swallowed as they veered into the gift shop. “It’s good that they have Granger. He seems like a good dad.”
“I think so too. And what kid wouldn’t want to grow up on a Christmas tree farm? I mean, that’s so cool.” Lacy beelined toward the magazine rack in the back of the shop, picking out three. They also grabbed some chocolates at the register.
Bag of presents in hand, they left the shop and took the elevator up to the third floor to Mrs. Townsend’s room. Lacy knocked, and they waited for Mrs. Townsend’s voice to answer back, telling them to “come in.”
“Oh, Lacy! You didn’t have to spend your Saturday coming to see me,” Mrs. Townsend said as they entered her room. “And you brought a friend.”
“Mrs. Townsend, this is Paris Montgomery. He did CPR on you in the library yesterday.”
Mrs. Townsend’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even know I needed CPR. How embarrassing. But thank you,” she told Paris. “I guess you were instrumental in saving my life.”
“It was no big deal,” he said.
“To the woman who’s still alive today it is.” Mrs. Townsend looked at Lacy again, her gaze dropping to the bag in her hand. “What do you have?”
“Oh, yes.” Lacy pulled the magazines out and offered them to Mrs. Townsend, along with the chocolates.
Mrs. Townsend looked delighted by the gifts. “Oh my goodness. Thank you so much.”
“Are you doing okay?” Lacy asked.
Mrs. Townsend waved a hand. “The doctors here have been taking good care of me. They tell me I can go home tomorrow.”
Lacy smiled. “That’s good news.”
“Yes, it is. And I’ll be caring for the girls again on Monday. A little flutter in the heart won’t keep me from doing what I love.”
Lacy’s gaze slid to meet Paris’s as worry creased her brow. He resisted reaching for her hand in a calming gesture. His intentions would be innocent, but they could also confuse things. He and Lacy were only out today as friends. Nothing more.
They stayed and chatted a while longer and then left, riding down the elevator in silence. Paris and Lacy walked side by side back to his truck. He opened the passenger side door for her again and then got into the driver’s seat.
“I’m glad Mrs. Townsend is okay,” Lacy said as they pulled back onto the main road and drove toward Blueberry Creek Road, where Albert Jenson lived.
“Me too,” Paris told her.
“But what happens next time?”
“Hopefully there won’t be a next time.”
“And if there is, hopefully you’ll be around,” Lacy said. Something about her tone made him wonder if she wanted to keep him around for herself too.
A few minutes later, he turned onto Mr. Jenson’s street and traveled alongside Blueberry Creek. His heart quickened as he pulled into Mr. Jenson’s driveway.
“I can’t believe he walks from here to the library,” Lacy said as he cut the engine. “That has to be at least a mile.”
“He’s always loved to walk.” Paris let his gaze roam over the house. It was smaller than he remembered and in need of new paint. The rosebushes that the Jensons loved so much were unruly and unkempt. He was in his seventies now though. The man Paris knew as a child had been middle-aged and full of energy. Things changed. He looked over. “All right. Let’s get this over with. If he yells at us, we’ll know he’s okay. The buddy system, right?”
“Right.”
Except with each passing second spent with Lacy, the harder it was for him to think of her as just a buddy.
* * *
Lacy had never been to Mr. Jenson’s home before. She’d known that the Jensons kept foster children once upon a time, but it surprised her that one of them was Paris.
“Strange, but this place feels like home to me,” Paris said as he stood at the front door.
“How long did you live here with the Jensons?”
“About six months, which was longer than I lived with most.”
“Makes sense why you’d think of this place fondly then.” She wanted to ask more about his parents, but it wasn’t the time. “Are you going to ring the doorbell?” she asked instead.
“Oh. I guess that would help.” Paris pushed the button for the doorbell with his index finger and let his hands clasp back together in front of him.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think Mr. Cool was nervous,” she commented.
“Mr. Cool?” He glanced over. “Any relation to Mr. Clean?”
This made her giggle until the front door opened and Mr. Jenson frowned back at them.
Lacy straightened. From the corner of her eye, she saw Paris stand more upright as well.
“Mr. Jenson,” Paris said. “Good morning, sir.”
“What are you doing here?” the old man barked through the screen door.
“Just checking on you. You missed a class that I put together just for you.”
“I hear you were trying to kill people at the library yesterday,” Mr. Jenson said, his frown steadfast. “Good thing I stayed home.”
“Mrs. Townsend is fine,” Paris informed him. “We just checked on her at Sweetwater Memorial.”
“And now you’re checking
on me?” Mr. Jenson shook his head, casting a suspicious glare. “Why?”
Paris held up his hands. “Like I said, I missed you in yesterday’s class.”
Mr. Jenson looked surprised for a moment, and maybe even a little happy with this information. Then his grumpy demeanor returned. “I decided it wasn’t worth my time.”
Lacy noticed Paris tense beside her. “Actually, the class is free and taught by a professional,” she said, jumping in to help. “We’re lucky to have Mr. Montgomery teaching at Sweetwater Library.”
Mr. Jenson gave her a long, hard look. She was prepared for him to take a jab at her too, but instead he shrugged his frail shoulders. “It’s a long walk, and my legs hurt yesterday, okay? You happy? I’m not a spring chicken anymore, but I’m fine, and I’ll be back on Monday. If for no other reason than to keep you two off my front porch.” Mr. Jenson looked between them, and then he harrumphed and promptly slammed the door in their faces.
Lacy turned to look at Paris. “Are you sure you’re remembering him correctly? I can’t imagine that man was ever very nice.”
“Did you see him smile at me before he slammed that door though? I think he’s softening up.”
Lacy laughed, reaching her arm out and grabbing Paris momentarily to brace her body as it shook with amusement. Once she’d realized what she’d done, she removed her hand and cleared her throat. “Okay, our well-check visits are complete. Mrs. Townsend and Mr. Jenson are both alive and kicking.”
“I guess it’s time for me to keep my end of the deal now,” Paris said, leading her back to his truck.
Lacy narrowed her eyes. “But my reunion isn’t until next Saturday.”
“Yes, but I’m guessing you need to go shopping for something new to wear, right? And I can’t wear jeans and an old T-shirt.” He opened the passenger door for her.
“You can wear whatever you want,” she told him as she stepped inside. Then she turned to look at him as he stood in her doorway.
“I want to look my best when I’m standing beside you. And I hear that Sophie’s Boutique is the place to go if you want to dress to impress.” He closed the door behind her and walked around to get in the driver’s seat.
“Are you seriously offering to go dress shopping with me right now?” she asked once he was seated. “Because guys usually hate that kind of thing.”
Paris grinned as he cranked the truck. “Sitting back and watching you come in and out of a dressing room, modeling beautiful clothes, sounds like a fun way to spend an afternoon to me.” He winked before backing out of the driveway.
For a moment, Lacy was at a complete loss for words. “I mean, I’m sure you have other things to do with your Saturday afternoon.”
He glanced over. “None as fun as hanging out with you.”
She melted into the passenger seat. No one in her life had made her feel quite as interesting as Paris had managed to do last night and today. Just the opposite, the Ladies’ Day Out group, while well-meaning, had made her feel boring by elaborating on the truth.
Paris made her feel other things as well. Things that were too soon to even contemplate.
Chapter Five
Every time Lacy walked out of the dressing room, Paris felt his heart kick a little harder. The dresses in Sophie’s Boutique were gorgeous, but they paled in comparison to Lacy.
“You’re staring at me,” she said after twirling in a lavender knee-length dress with small navy blue polka dots. “Do you like this one or not?” She looked down. “I kind of love it. It’s fun, and that’s what I want for my reunion.” She was grinning when she looked back up at him. “I want to dance and eat all the foods that will make this dress just a little too tight the next morning.” A laugh tumbled off her lips.
Paris swallowed, looking for words, but they all got stuck in his throat. His feelings for Lacy were snowballing with every passing second—and it scared him more than Mr. Jenson did.
“Well?” she said again.
“That’s the one for sure.” He tore his gaze from her, pushing away all the thoughts of things he wanted to do to her in that dress. He wanted to spin her around on the dance floor, hold her close, and kiss her without apology next time.
Next time?
“Oh, wow! You look so beautiful!” Sophie Daniels, the boutique’s owner, walked over and admired Lacy in the dress. “Is that the one?”
Lacy was practically glowing. “I think so, yeah.”
Sophie turned to look at Paris. He’d met Sophie before, and she’d flirted mildly with him. He hadn’t returned the flirting though because, beautiful as she was, he wasn’t interested.
But he couldn’t deny his interest in Lacy.
“Now it’s your turn,” Lacy said.
Sophie gestured to the other side of the store. “I have a rack of men’s clothing in the back. Let’s get you something that will complement what Lacy is wearing but not steal her show.”
“As if I could steal the attention away from her,” he said while standing.
Sophie’s mouth dropped open. With a knowing look in her eyes, she tipped her head, signaling for him to follow her while Lacy returned to the dressing room to change.
“You seem like a nice guy, Paris, and Lacy deserves someone who will treat her well,” Sophie said to him over her shoulder as she led the way.
“It’s not like that between us.” He swiped a hand through his hair. “I mean, Lacy is terrific, but the two of us don’t make sense.”
Sophie started sifting through the men’s clothes on the rack. “Why not? You’re both single and attractive. She avoids the spotlight, and you kind of grab people’s attention wherever you go.”
“I do?” he asked.
Sophie stopped looking through the clothes to give him another knowing look. “Opposites attract is a real thing, and it makes perfect sense.” She pulled out a dark purple button-down shirt that would match Lacy’s dress. “Do you have black pants?”
“I have black jeans,” he told her.
She seemed to think about this. “Yes, black jeans will work. You just need to dress up a little bit. You’re a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, so let’s keep the jeans.” She nodded as if making the decision. “You, but different.”
“Me, but different,” he agreed, taking the shirt from her. That’s how he felt with Lacy. He was still him but more grounded. And Lacy was still reserved but also coming out of her shell, and he loved watching it happen. “Do you have any bathing suits?” he asked on a whim. “One for me and one for Lacy?”
Sophie’s eyes lit up, a smile lifting at the corners of her mouth. “Of course I do.”
“I’ll take one for each of us then. And this shirt for the reunion,” Paris said.
Sophie gave him a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll take care of it.”
* * *
Lacy felt like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. She loved the dress she’d picked out, and she’d enjoyed the way Paris had stared at her as she’d modeled each one before it.
They left the boutique and walked back to Paris’s truck. He opened her door, and she got in, tucking her bag in the floorboard at her feet. “That was so much fun. Thank you.”
He stood in the open doorway of his truck, watching her. His gaze was so intense, and for a moment, her heart sped up. Was he going to kiss her again?
“I want to take you somewhere else,” he said.
She furrowed her brow. They’d already spent nearly the entire day together, not that she minded. “Where?”
He placed a second bag in her lap and winked before shutting the door behind her and walking around the truck.
Lacy peeked inside the bag and gasped as he opened his own door and got behind the wheel. “This is a bathing suit.”
“You said you always wanted to go to the hot spring. You and I are on one big adventure today, so I thought it’d be fitting to end our expedition by doing something on your bucket list.”
“I don’t actually have a bucket list,” she noted, looking do
wn at the bathing suit again, “but if I did, this would be on it. I can’t believe you got me a bathing suit.” Underneath her bright pink suit in the bag was a pair of men’s board shorts. “Are we really going to do this?”
Paris looked over. “Only if you agree. Will you go on a date with me to the hot spring?”
A date? Had he meant that the way it’d sounded? Because a date implied that they were more than friends, and that’s the way she felt about him right now.
* * *
The night was alive with sounds of nature. In the past hour, the sun had gone down behind the mountains, and stars had begun to shimmer above as darkness fell.
Lacy came out of the changing room with her bathing suit on and a towel wrapped around her waist. Paris was waiting on a bench for her, bare chested and in a pair of swim shorts.
Her mouth went dry. This wasn’t her. She didn’t visit hot springs with gorgeous men. Her idea of fun on a Saturday night was curling up on her front porch swing with a good book. This was a nice change of pace though, and with Paris beside her, she didn’t mind trying something new.
“Ready?” he asked, standing and walking toward her. He reached for her hand and took it. The touch zinged from her heart to her toes, bouncing back up through her body like a ball in a pinball machine.
The sound of water grew louder as they approached the hot spring. They were the only ones here so far this evening, which she found odd and exciting.
Paris stood at the steps and looked at Lacy. “You’re going to have to drop that towel,” he said, his gaze trailing from her face and down her body toward her hips.
“Right.” She swallowed and let go of his hand. She was about to remove her towel, but he reached out for her and did the honors. There was something so intimate about the gesture that her knees weakened. The towel fell in his hand, leaving her standing there in just her suit. She felt exposed and so alive.
He met her gaze for a long moment and then folded the towel and left it on a bench. Turning back to her, he reached for her hand again. “Careful,” he said quietly, leading her down the steps and into the water.