Hello Dolly

by Reina M. Williams

  He could only hope Dolly wasn’t interested in him, though a part of him that needed to be ignored urged him to get as close to her as possible, get her interest and keep it. Fortunately, he was an old hand at walling off that part of him.

  “I could use a professional opinion,” Dolly said. “If you have time. I jumped into this on intuition, but I can afford to trust that.”

  She was luckier than most, then, or maybe her carefree, cheery demeanor hid a steely career woman. Which only made him want to know more about her. He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Luke,” Mrs. Davis said, prodding his arm. “Why don’t you and Dolly go in and I’ll get us cuernitos and coffee across the street?” It wasn’t really a question, as she was already waving and walking over to the bakery.

  “Brocas too, if they have ‘em,” he called to her. She fluttered a hand in response. She hadn’t even given him a chance to give her money or thanks. She was a sneaky one, his neighbor.

  “I’m glad there’s a good bakery in town. I already ate all the treats I’d brought from my local panadería.” Dolly unlocked the door, which creaked open. “Aunt June said they’re not doing much in that line, as pies, cupcakes, and cookies are more popular around here.” She tried to flip the lights, but nothing happened. Sighing, she faced him. “I must seem pretty incompetent to you.” Her tone hadn’t changed; she just stated it as if it were no problem. And why would it be? She didn’t need his good opinion. And he didn’t need hers. But he wanted it. Wanted to prove himself to her.

  He shook his head, at himself and these off notions he was having, but she seemed to take it as a “no” to her statement.

  Her smile returned and brought light into the space. “I sold my shop in California. But I kept the internet side—rare books and such—which I can do from here. Now that there’s decent internet here, so Aunt June tells me.”

  “She’s right. Will you be living above?” he pointed up. He’d seen inside the building when it was on the market. He liked old buildings, and it was to his advantage to be as familiar as possible with local architecture and structures.

  “Hoping so. This was kind of spur of the moment. I’d been planning for years on moving to Oregon, but... Aunt June’s my only family.”

  He waited to see if she’d say more, but she only shrugged a shoulder, as if her last statement explained it all. And maybe it did. He could see the resemblance in the energy and petite frames of Dolly and her aunt, who was the powerhouse seventy-something owner of the local café, Gallagher’s.

  Dolly reached into her purse, this time waving out a white cotton handkerchief, which she sneezed into.

  “Bless you,” he said.

  “Thanks. This place needs a good cleaning before I can ask you, or anyone else, to look at it. But first I need to see what confronts me.” She greeted this mess—the dust and grime, the broken bits of furniture, the sagging inner door—so cheerfully that he smiled, despite his efforts to remain passive toward her.

  “What?” she asked as she glanced at him.

  “Nothing.”

  “I hope you’re not laughing at this little woman taking all this on. This” —she threw her arms wide, her purse whacking her elbow— “takes a woman to tackle it.”

  “No argument here.” He bet she could take on the world and bring it to order, and quite a few to their knees. She sure could him with one of those smiles. He rooted his feet firmly in place. Not that he’d do that. Nope, not Luke Levi. He planned to stay on his feet, preferably walking far away from Dolly Gallagher.

  His chest lightened as she kept her gaze on him. He crossed his arms over his offending body, as if that could trap the feelings welling up there.

  She shook her head, her wavy curls teasing her soft skin. Or he imagined it was soft.

  Yep, the safest place for him was well away from Dolly Gallagher.

  Chapter Three

  The Sweet Things

  Dolly studied the woodwork of her new business, and home. Past all the dirt was a solid, beautiful old building. She saw it as it could be, with rows of shelves full of books, a reading nook, a few tables dotted around with unique literary-themed gifts, and a tea corner. What was better than tea and books?

  That man over there. She swatted the thought away as if it were a pesky fly. Which was all it was: a fly-by thought. She didn’t need to give it any space. She made a show of stepping around the room, avoiding Luke Levi.

  Tea and books, that’s what she’d been thinking. And how she needed to be sure not to step on any toes by selling items that the bakery or Molloy’s Miscellany sold.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked, not comfortable with the silence. And she might as well get his opinion, since he was here. “Good bones, right?”

  “Again, no argument here.”

  She turned but he was looking up. Just as well. Getting another peep at his intense eyes wouldn’t help her focus. It wasn’t helping, watching him, his solid frame and short, slightly unruly hair giving her the tingles.

  “Nothing more to say? You are a professional, right?” Her even tone hopefully softened any hard implication in her words, but if he wanted the job, he could give more of an opinion than to simply agree with her. She swiveled and took long strides to the old counter. Dusty, as everything was in here.

  “Yep. I examined the building when it was on the market. It’s solid. But I’m sure you know all that from the reports. They’re accurate. Mostly needs cosmetic work, some rewiring. The plumbing and roof are recent, so that’s good. Like you said, needs a lot of cleaning. Floor upstairs needs a section replaced, if I remember right.”

  He seemed to know what he was talking about, though she’d still rather work with someone else. She had a shop to get off the ground, and a new life to start. Those would take her focus, as they always had. She wasn’t interested in romance. Luke caught her gaze as she turned again. What was taking Mrs. Davis so long?

  “Great, good to know. When I’m ready for bids, I’ll check in with you.”

  His lips quirked to the side, almost a smirk. “Fine.”

  “Fine,” she echoed. “You’re not a local, are you? I used to visit Aunt June every summer, and I don’t think we’ve met before.”

  “Not a local, nope.”

  She waited, thinking he might say more. Most people liked to talk about themselves. Not Luke Levi, it seemed.

  He brushed a dust mote off his dark dress pants then straightened his tie.

  “Going to the Manning-Delgado wedding later?” she asked. “Seems like it’s the talk of the town.”

  Before he could say anything, Mrs. Davis popped in. “Of course he’s going.” Mrs. Davis handed a tray to Luke. “Here, take this, with those strong arms of yours.”

  Dolly’s gaze slipped to his arms. Mrs. Davis wasn’t lying. His arms appeared sinewy and sexy. Her chest heated. This was not happening.

  “I could’ve gone over, and then you wouldn’t have had to carry it at all. What do I owe you?” Luke asked Mrs. Davis as he took the tray.

  “Nothing.”

  “We’ll settle later.”

  “Let me pay,” Dolly put in.

  “Nope, thanks. I got it,” Luke said. She opened her mouth to argue, but his frown, complete with his dark brows furrowed, stopped her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Luke, are you going to fix up Dolly’s place?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t you want to sit to drink your coffee, Mrs. D?” He walked toward the door with the tray.

  “Oh, sorry, there’s nowhere to sit in here,” Dolly said. She liked being a good hostess, and here she was falling down at it. Since their meeting, Luke flustered her, but she refused to give in to those feelings.

  “Let’s go back across to the bakery,” Mrs. Davis said. “They’re trying out some new outdoor seating on their back patio. It overlooks Main Street and the river.”

  “Sounds lovely,” Dolly said.

  Mrs. Davis took her arm as they followed Luke. Dolly mo
ved to lock the door, but Mrs. Davis stayed her hand. “No one will break in while we’re across the street. Let’s keep up with Luke.”

  He’d stopped on the other side, waiting for them as he held the tray. He did have nice arms. She could be objective about it. They walked with him through the passage to the back, which opened to a cute patio shaded with vines, a trellis, and a canvas cover overhead. Luke set down the tray on one of the wood tables then he held out a chair for Mrs. Davis, who nodded her thanks as she slid in. Dolly sank into a chair, which Luke stood behind to help her push in. His gentlemanly ways made her legs soften.

  “No to-go items here?” Dolly asked as Luke passed around ceramic coffee mugs and set a creamer-sugar duo and plate of pastries on the table. Then he returned the tray to a stack above a wood-surround trash can and sat with them, brushing his hair away from his forehead. The strands seemed to fall forward, drawing her attention again and again to his arresting eyes.

  “They’re trying to be sustainable,” Mrs. Davis said. “Luke here is pushing for greener building. I support him one hundred percent.”

  “I’m all in favor of it,” Dolly said, sipping the coffee that she’d splashed some milk in.

  She noticed Luke took his black. He bit into a broca, the sugar topping dusting his short beard, giving a hint to what he might be like ten years down the road, a silver fox.

  She laughed at herself. Really, it was more like something on a little kid—sugar on your face—but there wasn’t anything boyish about Luke. He was very much a man. She took a big bite of cuernito, the croissant-like crackle almost making her moan out loud. There was nothing like a good pastry, and clearly, Maya Perry had the secrets. Thank goodness, because Dolly didn’t bake pastries, but she didn’t want to give up her favorite sweets, either.

  Now she laughed out loud, as she saw her chest sprinkled with golden crumbs. Luke glanced at her, his mouth turned down. Oh well, guess he didn’t have much of a sense of humor. With a napkin, she brushed the crumbs to the plank floor of the patio.

  “Luke helped with construction here,” Mrs. Davis said before popping a bite of cuernito in her mauve-lipsticked mouth. Her hair, silvered light brown, caught a breeze from the river, the curls lifting.

  Dolly studied the patio again. “Impressive. Local materials?”

  “As much as possible,” Luke responded. “Some reclaimed, as well.”

  “I’d love to do something like that at my place,” she said then realizing that meant working with Luke.

  “See, I told you Luke is the right person for you.” Mrs. Davis’s contented, almost smug expression left Dolly speechless, no easy feat.

  “I’m sure Ms. Gallagher can make up her own mind, Mrs. D,” Luke said in a firm, though gentle, voice. Oh, right, they were neighbors, these two, so he was probably used to her ways.

  Dolly, though, still felt the slight awe of the woman that she had as a child. Not only was Mrs. Davis a retired teacher, a friend of Aunt June’s, and a leading citizen of the town, but also, she was Betty Davis—not the Bette Davis, as she would say—but as formidable and able to do a darn good impression, too. You simply didn’t mess with Betty Davis, a lesson Dolly had learned at a young age.

  So Dolly was suitably impressed with how Luke handled his neighbor.

  “No one’s saying she can’t,” Mrs. Davis said with a hint of acerbity. She dabbed her lips with her napkin. “By the way, Luke, who are you taking to the wedding?”

  “What?” Luke dropped his pastry to the plate.

  “Who’s your plus one?”

  “You are, Mrs. D.”

  Mrs. Davis leaned forward and patted his hand. “Now, Luke, you know I’m going with Kenny.”

  He slumped and crossed his arms. “News to me.”

  “Oh, dear. I’m sure we talked about it.” Mrs. Davis touched her cheek with her finger then pointed it, as if she’d had a brilliant idea. “You can take Dolly. You’ll be his guest, won’t you, dear?”

  Dolly’s inability to speak continued. Her cheeks heated. Talk about embarrassing.

  “I’m sure Ms. Gallagher has a lot to do today. Or maybe she’s already going with Mrs. Gallagher?” The hint of hope in his tone hollowed a hole in Dolly’s stomach.

  Not that she wanted to be his guest. She did have a lot to do. Words still wouldn’t come. She rubbed her stomach.

  “No, June would’ve told me. Besides, she’s got to already be at the church helping,” Mrs. Davis continued.

  “I...I do have a lot to do,” Dolly whispered. Why was her voice so weak? She was just tired, that must be it. It had been a long drive yesterday from Ashland, where she’d stopped to visit a friend.

  “But then you and Luke could talk over the work, there at the reception. It’s the event of the season here, and Middleton Ranch is gorgeous. You’ll love it, Dolly. The house is due to be on the National Historic Register. And it’ll be great way to meet just about everyone in town. Luke, what better way for her to meet everyone, right?”

  He ran a hand over his beard. Dolly sipped her coffee, trying to collect herself.

  “I’m sure Mr. Levi and I can talk another time. You can’t expect him to settle for taking me when he was all set to escort you, Mrs. Davis.” Dolly tried to keep her tone light.

  “The two of you,” Mrs. Davis said with a waggle of her fingers. “I’m sure Luke would much rather have you on his arm, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’d take you both if I could,” Luke said with a small smile. He shrugged. “But you’ve thrown me over for Ken, as usual.”

  Dolly stifled a laugh at his mock pout. She sensed this must be an ongoing tease between the two.

  “And I’m giving you a wonderful alternative, if Dolly will say yes. But you aren’t being the gentleman and asking.”

  He let out a breath and faced Dolly. He really was much too handsome in a rugged sort of way. Not at all like the men she’d dated. Men who were just friends. People she could keep at a distance.

  “I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to the wedding today, Ms. Gallagher. Will you?”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I don’t ask if I don’t mean it,” he said, his frown back.

  She supposed it wasn’t a bad idea. It wasn’t as if they had to act like they were on a date or anything. Just two people attending a wedding together. Talking business.

  “Then thank you, yes. What time should I be ready?”

  “I’ll pick you up at three-thirty, if that suits?” He glanced at his watch.

  “All right. You know where my aunt’s house is?”

  “’Course.”

  What was she going to wear? She didn’t have all her things yet. The moving truck wasn’t due until tomorrow. She’d be storing everything in Aunt June’s garage until she got her place ready. She couldn’t remember exactly what she’d packed in the Prius.

  Mrs. Davis touched her back. “Dolly, let’s get you home so you can get ready. Would you drop me on your way? Luke, I’ll see you at the wedding.”

  Dolly didn’t have it in her to argue, so she let herself be led. With a nod and a thanks to Luke, she followed Mrs. Davis back out to the street.

  She locked up the building, trying to take mental notes on what cleaning supplies to bring, and where she could start, but her head ached slightly. Opening the passenger door for Mrs. Davis, she tried to smile. Mrs. Davis slid in and Dolly went around to start the car. They drove down and around to George Street, which led to Aspen Street, where Mrs. Davis, and Luke, lived. It was a wide old street with a beautiful grove of aspen trees and neat lawns fronting old bungalows and a few Craftsman-style homes.

  When she pulled into Mrs. Davis’s driveway, the older woman turned to her. “You sweet things enjoy yourselves, promise?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Dolly said. She wasn’t feeling so sweet, and she didn’t think Luke Levi fit that description either.

  Mrs. Davis waved and Dolly waited until she was safely inside before she pulled out and drove the
other way, back to Willow Street.

  Her first day in town and she’d be going to church twice, and to a wedding reception, all with a Montana man who made her feel...more than she wanted to. So much for the slow pace of small-town life. And so much for avoiding Luke Levi.

  Chapter Four

  In the Evening Air

  Luke pushed down the urge to check his appearance in the rearview mirror. Making a special effort for Dolly Gallagher wasn’t necessary. He looked fine, he was sure. Hopping out of his truck, he walked up the path to Mrs. Gallagher’s front door. He ran a finger around his collar before he rang the doorbell. His suit felt slightly uncomfortable, maybe because it was over ninety degrees. No one should be wearing a suit and tie in this heat.

  When Dolly opened the door, his comfort level went completely haywire. She wore a light peach dress that hugged her curves yet covered her up and had some sort of swingy skirt. The color made her pale skin seem even more smooth and soft.

  He stammered something unintelligible, trying to get words out. Feeling like an inept teenager when he was a man of forty wasn’t good.

  She smiled and set a paperback book on the table by the door. “Thanks for picking me up. I know Mrs. Davis wrangled you into this,” she said as she locked the front door and shifted a light scarf over her arm. “I mean, I don’t know, but it seems like... Well, I should have started with hello.” She laughed as he held the door to his truck for her.

  “Well, hello, Dolly,” he said.

  “There, now we’re over the awkward start.”

  He wasn’t. Her smile pierced his chest like a sunbeam on a cold day, which he ignored. But the warmth crumbled his inner walls faster than unstabilized adobe in a storm.

  “Aunt June says the wedding is at the Catholic church? I don’t think I’ve ever been there. Every summer... Oh, wait, I have been there. Aunt June has friends on the altar guild. It’s been a long time, and some of those summers run together.”