by Annie Rains
She moaned softly as the hot water lapped against her skin. “This is heavenly,” she finally said once she’d taken a seat inside. He was still holding her hand, and that was heavenly as well. They leaned back against the spring’s wall, and both of them looked up at the stars.
“Anywhere I’ve been in my life,” Paris whispered after a moment, “I’ve always been under these same stars. I’ve always wished I was somewhere different when I looked up, but tonight, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He looked over, his face dangerously close to hers.
She swallowed. “Are you going to kiss me again?”
His blue eyes narrowed. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”
“Ever since that first kiss.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth. Her lips parted for him. Then he leaned just a fraction, and his lips brushed against hers. He stayed there, offering small kisses that evolved into something deeper and bigger. One of his hands slid up her thigh, anchoring midway. The touch completely undid her, and if they weren’t in a public setting, she might have wiggled until his hand slid higher.
“Are you going to apologize again?” she asked once he’d pulled away.
He shook his head. “I’m not sorry.”
“Me neither,” she whispered. Then she leaned in and kissed him this time. Who was she these days? This wasn’t like her at all.
They didn’t stop kissing until voices approached the hot spring. Lacy pulled back from Paris. Another couple appeared and headed toward the spring. They stepped in and sat across from Lacy and Paris.
“We have to behave now,” Paris whispered in Lacy’s ear.
“Easier said than done.” She grinned at him.
“And I’m not leaving until this little problem I have has gone down.”
“What problem?” she asked, looking down through the clear bubbles. Then she realized what he was referring to, and her body grew impossibly hotter.
They returned to looking at the stars and talking in whispers, sharing even more details about themselves. Lacy could’ve stayed and talked all night, but the hot spring closed at ten p.m. When she finally stepped out of the water, the cool air was a harsh contrast.
After toweling off and changing in the dressing room, Lacy met Paris outside and got into his truck. He drove slowly as he took her home, their conversation touching various subjects. And the more she learned about Paris, the more she wanted to know.
Finally, he pulled into her driveway and looked at her.
“I’m not sure you should walk me to my door,” Lacy said. “I’d probably end up asking you if you wanted to come inside.” She nibbled softly on her lower lip. “And, well, that’s probably not the best idea.”
“I understand.” He reached for her hand. “Thank you for the best day that I can remember.”
She leaned toward him. “And the best night.”
She gave him a brief kiss because there was still the risk that she might invite him inside. She was doing things that were surprising even herself. “The library is closed tomorrow. I can make lunch if you want to come over.”
He hesitated.
“I mean, you don’t have to, if you have something else to do.”
He grinned. “I have work to do tomorrow, but a man has to eat, right? Lunch sounds nice. I’ll be here.”
“Perfect.” She pushed the truck door open before her hormones took over and she climbed over to his side of the truck instead. “Good night, Paris.”
“Good night, Lace.”
Chapter Six
Lacy wasn’t thinking straight last night. Otherwise, she would’ve remembered that a few members of the Ladies’ Day Out group were coming over for lunch after church. No doubt they wanted to nag her about one thing or another. Today’s topics were most likely the dating site and her reunion.
Then again, that was all the more reason for Paris to join them for lunch. His presence would kill two birds with one stone. She didn’t need a dating site. And she and Paris were going to have an amazing time at her reunion next weekend.
She heard his motorcycle rumble into her driveway first. She waited for him to ring the doorbell, and then she went to answer. Butterflies fluttered low in her belly at the sight of him.
“Come in.” She led him inside the two-bedroom house that she’d purchased a couple of years ago. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
“Well, sounds cliché, but I’ve learned that home really is where the heart is,” he said.
She turned to look at him, standing close enough that she could reach out and touch him again. Maybe pull him toward her, go up on her tiptoes, and press her lips to his. “By cliché, you mean cheesy?”
Paris pretended to push a stake through his heart. “When you get comfortable with someone, your feisty side is unleashed. I like it.” He leaned in just a fraction, and Lacy decided to take a step forward, giving him the not-so-subtle green light for another kiss. He was right. She was feisty when she was with him, and she liked this side of her too.
The sound of another motor pulling into her driveway got her attention. She turned toward her door.
“Are you expecting someone else?” Paris asked, following her gaze.
“Yes, sorry. I didn’t remember when I invited you last night, but I have company coming over today.”
“Who?” Paris asked.
“My mom.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“And my two sisters, Birdie and Rose,” Lacy added. “And my aunt Pam.”
Paris started to look panicked. “Anyone else?”
“Yeah. Um, Dawanda from the fudge shop. They’re all part of the Ladies’ Day Out group. I got a text earlier in the week telling me they were bringing lunch.”
“Well, I’ll get out of your guys’ hair,” he said, backpedaling toward the door.
She grabbed his hand, holding it until he met her gaze. “Wait. You don’t need to leave. I want you here.”
Paris grimaced. “Family mealtime has never really been my strong point.”
Lacy continued to hold his hand. She wanted to show the women outside that she could find a guy on her own. She didn’t need FishInTheSea.com. She also wanted to show them this new side of herself that seemed to take hold when she was with Paris. “They’re harmless, I promise. Please stay.”
Paris shifted on his feet, and she was pretty sure he was going to turn down the invitation. “You didn’t take no for an answer when you wanted me to teach the computer class at the library,” he finally said. “I’m guessing the same would be true now, huh?”
She grinned. “That’s right.”
“You’re a hard woman to resist.”
“Then stop trying,” she said, going to answer the door.
* * *
The spread on Lacy’s table was fit for a Thanksgiving dinner by Paris’s standards. Not that he had much experience with holidays and family gatherings. He’d had many a holiday meal with a fast-food bag containing a burger, fries, and a small toy.
“I would’ve brought Denny if I’d known that men were allowed at lunch today,” Mrs. Shaw said, speaking of her husband. She seemed friendly enough, but Paris also didn’t miss the scrutinizing looks she was giving him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He was dressed in dark colors and had tattoos on both arms. He also had a motorcycle parked in the driveway. He probably wasn’t the kind of guy Mrs. Shaw would have imagined her sweet librarian daughter with.
“Good thing you didn’t bring Dad,” Lacy’s sister Birdie said. “He would’ve grilled Paris mercilessly.”
“Paris and I aren’t dating,” Lacy reiterated for the tenth time since she’d welcomed the women into her home. She slid her gaze to look at Paris, and he saw the question in her eyes. Are we? When the ladies had come through the front door, they’d all immediately began calling him Lacy’s secret boyfriend.
“Sounds like I’d be in trouble if you and I did get together,” Paris said. “Your dad sounds strict.”
Lacy laughed s
oftly. “Notice that my sisters and I are all still single. There’s a reason for that.”
Lacy’s other sister, Rose, snorted. “Dad crashed my high school prom when I didn’t come home by curfew. Who has a curfew on prom night?” Rose slid her fork into a pile of macaroni and cheese. “I thought I’d never forgive Dad for that. I liked that guy too.”
“What was his name again?” Mrs. Shaw asked.
Rose looked up, her eyes squinting as she seemed to think. “I can’t remember. Brent maybe. Bryce? Could’ve been Bryan.”
“You couldn’t have liked him too much if you can’t remember his name,” Mrs. Shaw pointed out.
Everyone at the table laughed.
“Don’t you worry, Rose,” Dawanda said, seated beside Mrs. Shaw. “I’ve read your cappuccino, and you have someone very special coming your way. I saw it in the foam.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to keep him away from my dad until the wedding,” Rose said sarcastically, making everyone chuckle again.
Whereas some read tea leaves, Dawanda read images formed in the foam of a cappuccino. She’d done a reading for Paris last Christmas. Oddly enough, Dawanda had told him he was the only one whose fortune she couldn’t read. Dawanda had assured him it wasn’t that he was going to fall off a cliff or anything. His future was just up in the air. He had shut his heart off to dreaming of a life anywhere or with anyone.
He didn’t exactly believe in fortune-telling, but she was spot-on with that. Some people just weren’t cut out for forever homes and families. He guessed he was one of them.
“Dad’s first question any time he meets any of our dates is ‘What are your intentions with my girl?’” Rose said, impersonating a man’s deep voice.
“He actually said that while sharpening his pocketknife for a date I brought home in college,” Birdie said. “I didn’t mind because I didn’t like the guy too much, but what if I had?”
“Then you would’ve been out of luck,” Lacy said on a laugh.
The conversation continued, and then Mrs. Shaw looked across the table at Paris. “So, Paris,” she said, her eyes narrowing, “tell us about yourself. Did you grow up around here?”
Paris looked up from his lunch. “I spent a little time in Sweetwater Springs growing up. Some in Wild Blossom Bluffs. My parents moved around a lot.”
“Oh? For their jobs? Military maybe?” she asked.
Paris shifted. Ex-felons weren’t allowed to join the military. “Not exactly. I was in foster care here for a while.”
“Foster care?” Mrs. Shaw’s lips rounded in a little O. “That must’ve been hard for a young child.”
Paris focused his attention back on his food. “I guess I didn’t really know any different. Most of the places I landed were nice enough.” And there’d been somewhere he’d wished he could stay. Six months with the Jenson family was the longest amount of time he’d ever gotten to stay. It was just enough time to bond with his foster parents and to feel the loss of them to his core when he was placed back with his real parents.
He picked up his fork and stabbed at a piece of chicken.
“And what brought you back to Sweetwater Springs? If I recall, you moved here last year, right?” Dawanda asked. “You came into my shop while you were staying at the Sweetwater Bed and Breakfast.”
Paris swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat. He didn’t really want to answer that question either. He looked around the table, his gaze finally landing on Lacy. “Well, I guess I decided to come back here after my divorce.”
Lacy’s lips parted.
Had he forgotten to mention that little detail to her? When he was with Lacy, he forgot all about those lonely years in Florida. All he could think about was the moment he was in, and the ones that would follow.
“That sounds rough as well,” Mrs. Shaw said.
Paris shrugged, feeling weighed down by the truth. “Well, those things are in the rearview mirror now.” He tried to offer a lighter tone of voice, but all the women looked crestfallen. Mrs. Shaw had already seemed wary of him, but now she appeared even more so.
“And since my husband isn’t here to ask”—Mrs. Shaw folded her hands in front of her on the table—“what are your intentions with my daughter?”
“Mom!” Lacy set her fork down. “Paris and I aren’t even dating.” She looked over at him. “I mean, we went on a date last night. Two if you count that night at the park.”
“Last night?” Birdie asked.
All the women’s eyes widened.
“It wasn’t like that.” Lacy looked flustered. “We didn’t spend the night together.”
Mrs. Shaw’s jaw dropped open, and Lacy’s face turned a deep crimson.
Guilt curled in Paris’s stomach. Lacy was trying her best to prove herself to everyone around her. Now her family and Dawanda were gawking at her like she’d lost her mind. It was crazy to think that she and Paris would be dating. Sophie Daniels had told him at the boutique that opposites attract, but he and Lacy had led very different lives.
“Sounds like you’re dating to me. Are you going to go out again?” Rose asked.
“Well, Paris offered to go with me to my reunion,” Lacy said.
Mrs. Shaw’s smile returned. “Oh, I’m so glad you decided to go! That’s wonderful, dear. I want all those bullies to see that you are strong and beautiful, smart and funny, interesting—”
“Mom,” Lacy said, cutting her off, “you might be a little partial.”
“But she’s right,” Paris said, unable to help himself.
Lacy turned to look at him, and something pinched in his chest. He’d tried to keep things strictly friendly with her, but he’d failed miserably. What was he going to do now? He didn’t want a relationship, but if they continued to spend time together, she would.
“So, Paris, how did you get our Lacy to agree to go to this reunion of hers?” Mrs. Shaw asked. “She was so dead set on not attending.”
“Actually, Lace made that decision on her own,” he said.
“Lace?” Both Birdie and Rose asked in unison.
The nickname had just rolled off his tongue, but it fit. Lace was delicate and beautiful, accentuated by holes that one might think made it more fragile. It was strong, just like the woman sitting next to him. She was stronger than she even knew.
“Well, I’m glad she’s changed her mind. High school was such a rough time for our Lacy,” Mrs. Shaw said. “I want her to go and have a good time and show those bullies who treated her so badly that they didn’t break her.”
Paris glanced over at Lacy. He wanted her old classmates to see the same thing.
Mrs. Shaw pointed a finger at Paris, gaining his attention. “But if you take her, it won’t be on the back of that motorcycle in the driveway. Lacy doesn’t ride those things.”
“Actually, Mom, I rode on the back of it with Paris two days ago.”
Mrs. Shaw looked horrified.
“Maybe he’ll let me drive it next time,” Lacy added, making all the women at the table look surprised.
“Lacy rode on the back of your bike?” Birdie asked Paris. “This is not our sister. What have you done with the real Lacy Shaw?”
He looked over at the woman in question. The real Lacy was sitting right beside him. He saw her, even if no one else did. And the last thing he wanted to do was walk away from her, which was why he needed to do just that.
* * *
An hour later, Lacy closed her front door as her guests left and leaned against it, exhaling softly.
“Your mom and sisters are great,” Paris said, standing a couple of feet away from her. “Your aunt too.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “You almost sound serious about that.”
“Well, I’m not going to lie. They were a little overwhelming.”
“A little?” Lacy grinned. “And they were subdued today. They’re usually worse.”
Paris shoved his hands in his pockets. “They love you. Can’t fault them for that.”
The
way he was looking at her made her breath catch. Was he going to kiss her again?
“I guess not.”
“They want what’s best for you,” he continued. Then he looked away. “And, uh, I’m not sure that’s me, Lace.”
She straightened at the sudden shift in his tone of voice. “What?”
He ran a hand over his hair. “When we were eating just now, I realized that being your date might not be doing you any favors. Or me.”
“Wait, you’re not going to the reunion with me anymore?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I just think it’d be better if you went with someone else.”
“I don’t have anyone else,” she protested, her heart beating fast. “The reunion is in less than a week. I have my dress, and you have a matching shirt. And you’re the one I want to go with. I don’t even care about the reunion. I just want to be with you.”
He looked down for a moment. “You heard me talking to your family. I’ve lived a different life than you. I’m an ex-foster kid. My parents are felons.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t even make a marriage work.”
“Those things are in the past, Paris. I don’t care about any of that.”
He met her gaze again. “But I do. Call me selfish, but I don’t want to want you. I don’t want to want things that I know I’ll never have. It’s not in the cappuccino for me, Lacy.” His expression was pained. “I really want you to believe me when I say it’s not you, it’s me.”
Her eyes and throat burned, and she wondered if she felt worse for herself or for him. He obviously had issues, but who didn’t? One thing she’d learned since high school was that no one’s life was perfect. Her flaws were just obvious back then because of the back brace.
She’d also learned that you couldn’t make someone feel differently than they did. The only feelings you could control were your own. The old Lacy never stood up for herself. She let people trample on her and her feelings. But she’d changed. She was the new Lacy now.
She lifted her eyes to meet Paris’s and swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. “If that’s the way you feel, then I think you should go.”