Finding the Spark: A Rosewood Short Story (A Rosewood Novel Book 3)

by Andrea Laurence

Vera grinned. “That sounds perfect.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  She had a date. Vera Reynolds had a date! She almost couldn’t believe it. The joy nearly lifted her up off the ground like she was walking on air. Giddy didn’t even touch how she was feeling. She hadn’t felt like this since Herman asked her out. The night air was electrically charged with the potential of the future. She could almost feel it dancing across her bare arms, making her skin prickle with goose bumps.

  “Vera?” Bert asked, looking very serious all of a sudden. His dark eyes focused on her with an intensity she’d never seen from him before. In a quick moment, the good-natured, flirty Bert had vanished and the man that desired her more than anything else was left in his place.

  “Yes?” she asked, surprised by the uncharacteristic breathy quality of her voice.

  “Would it be too forward if I kissed you?”

  Vera knew that if she overthought it, she would ruin this. Francine’s warnings or her own self-doubts would creep in and she’d never get a second chance at this perfect moment. Instead of answering his question, she acted. Placing her hands on his slightly stubbled cheeks, she pulled his face down until her lips could meet his.

  The thrill that ran down her spine was immediate and powerful. Bert’s lips were soft and inviting, tasting sweet like banana pudding. His strong arms wrapped around her, tugging her body close to his. She melted into him, all of her resistance disappearing the longer they touched.

  It had been so long since she’d been kissed like this. After forty years of marriage, Herman’s kisses had become polite greetings, not passionate embraces. She knew exactly what Francine meant when she talked about her marriage being a far cry from their wilder days, but it seemed for Vera, at least, those days were back. Bert’s kiss brought to mind steamy evenings in the backseat of a boy’s car at the drive-in... The exciting thrill of her honeymoon in Gatlinburg... She suddenly felt like a girl again and she never wanted to let that go.

  A loud pop startled her out of the romantic fog she’d been lost in. Vera’s heart was racing in her chest as they leaped apart and both turned to look in the direction of the noise. A second loud pop sounded, followed by a burst of red and blue flames across the dark sky. The fireworks show had officially begun.

  “Come on,” Bert said, taking Vera’s hand.

  They continued on the path until they reached the clearing in the trees where they could see the fireworks show unobstructed. Bert stood behind Vera, wrapping his arms around her waist so she could lean back against him. She sighed contently in his arms, watching the fireworks and breathing in the scents of freshly mowed grass and Bert’s Old Spice.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered as she watched white twinkling lights fall to the ground like wilting daisies.

  “Not as beautiful as you are,” Bert countered.

  Vera thought about saying something inane, perhaps deflecting the compliment the way she always seemed to do, but something stopped her. “Thank you,” she said instead. She felt beautiful in his arms. She no longer cared what Francine or anyone else, thought. This was her life and she was going to make the most of it.

  When the last of the fireworks subsided, the crowd in the park cheered and Bert finally let her go to applaud along with them. Taking her hand, they walked back to the Jaycee’s Building. People were flooding from the building with their lawn chairs and empty casserole dishes. It made Vera sad to see the night was winding down. She wasn’t ready to let tonight end. She wasn’t ready to say goodnight to Bert just yet.

  Vera spied her bowl and spoon on the dessert table. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Bert, but the banana pudding is no more. I was hoping there would be enough for you to take some home.”

  “That’s a damn shame,” he said, eyeing it with disappointment. “It was one of your finest, Vera. I’m not surprised every bit of it is gone.”

  Perhaps she didn’t have to say goodbye quite yet. “Actually,” Vera said with a sly smile, “it’s not all gone. I had enough left over to make a second, small dish of it. It’s at the house, though.”

  One of Bert’s bushy white eyebrows rose curiously at her as she spoke. “At the house, you say?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she confirmed with a nod. “Would you like to come by my place tonight for some coffee and banana pudding?” As she said the words, she stroked the skin on the back of his hand in a suggestive motion.

  “I most certainly would.” Now it was Bert’s turn for his face to turn a little red. “But, uh,” he hesitated. “I thought we were taking things slow, Vera?”

  “We are. I’m just inviting you over for coffee and dessert. But,” she added with a naughty smile, “if there’s enough banana pudding left over later when we’re done, you can lick it off of me as slowly as you’d like.”

  Ready for More? The Fun in Rosewood Continues…

  Chapter One

  “Now those are some nice looking buns.”

  Madelyn Chamberlain looked up in time to see Emmett Sawyer walk past her bakery. He was up early for a night owl—or perhaps he was up late for him—but as always, the shaggy, laid-back owner of Woody’s, the local bar, was looking casually delicious. He managed to make a simple t-shirt and jeans look sexy. Of course, it helped that his well-worn jeans fit him like they were custom made. Just the sight of him wearing them caused an uncharacteristic tingle to run through her body. “They sure are,” she muttered to herself.

  “Maddie, do they have nuts in them?”

  Emmett disappeared from sight and Maddie turned to look at Miss Dotty as she perused the bakery case. Apparently Miss Dotty had been referring to the honey buns, not Emmett’s well-fitting jeans. “No, if you want nuts, get the sticky buns instead. They have toasted, candied pecans.”

  “Oooh... sticky buns.” Miss Dotty moved to the next case and got engrossed in the daily selections.

  Maddie was always dumbfounded when customers came in and stared at the choices as though they weren’t the same every day. When she bought The Rosewood Bakery from the late owner’s daughter, Maddie worked with her father to put together a solid business plan. Part of that was being smart about supplies and offerings. When she reopened as Madelyn’s Bakery & Tea House, she decided to serve a standard set of baked goods available on a regular basis. Each day, in addition to any custom orders, she featured one special item, like lemon tarts or chocolate éclairs.

  It’d worked well for her so far. Some people came in and got the same treat every day. Others came in the same day each week for their favorite special. She normally sold out of the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake bars by noon every Tuesday. They did well enough that she was considering adding them as an everyday offering.

  Miss Dotty, a daily visitor, had a sweet tooth and no desire to actually bake anymore.. Each day, the older woman would wander into the shop and stare intently at the display case, spending upwards of fifteen minutes in the shop. And no matter how many questions she asked or how many other items she eyed, she always left with a cinnamon roll.

  “You know, I think today I’ll just have my usual,” Dotty decided.

  Maddie smothered a grin. “Sure thing.” She slid the back of the case open and pulled out a cinnamon roll. She already had a small pastry box ready to go by the register. “That’s three-fifty.”

  Miss Dotty fussed in her purse for a few minutes, and then finally pulled out a few rumpled bills. There seemed to be an endless supply of wadded up bills in the bottom of Miss Dotty’s leather Coach bag. Surely Miss Dotty could afford a wallet, but it seemed that everything just gathered in the bottom; a stockpile of tissues, pennies, receipts and stray dollar bills.

  Maddie was handing back her change when her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Pepper Anthony, came into the bakery. Pepper worked at the hair salon next door.

  “Morning,” she said, moving past Miss Dotty to peruse the treats.

  Although they were almost family, Pepper and Maddie weren’t close. According to her brot
her Grant, it was her fault because Maddie was a stuck-up brat. But it wasn’t her fault she had high standards she held everyone—herself included—to. There was no good reason why someone couldn’t put their very best effort in every day, be it in their appearance, their job, or their attitude. Some people were just too lazy to make the cut. And she felt no reason to play nice with people she didn’t have an interest in.

  Of course, now that those people were her customers and some of them would soon be members of the Chamberlain family, Maddie had to find a way to be nice to everyone. And she was trying. But it was hard. For all the grief she got from people for being mean to them, she’d had her fair share of mistreatment from others. Being a young, single daughter of the great Chamberlain family had made her a target of gold-diggers and haters alike. Only people like her best friend Lydia Whittaker understood what that was like.

  “Hey, Pepper,” Miss Dotty said as she dumped her change into her purse and scooped up her cinnamon roll box. “Do you have any openings this week?”

  “I’m not sure, Miss Dotty. I’ll have to check my calendar,” Pepper said. “I’m taking some treats over to the firehouse right now, but if you want to come by this afternoon, we’ll see what we can find.”

  “That sounds good. I think I need a new look.”

  Maddie got a large cardboard container out for Pepper’s order. Regardless of how they felt about each other, Pepper was a good customer. Maddie’s brother Grant had a sweet tooth and Pepper wasn’t inclined to bake, so she stopped in fairly often to get treats for him and the other firemen.

  “I like your look,” Pepper said. “What’s prompting the change?”

  “Well,” Miss Dotty said with a conspiratorial look in her eye, “I think I want to start dating again.”

  Maddie froze in her tracks. Miss Dotty was a widower in her late sixties. Her stroke several years back had taken her from eccentric to downright kooky. Maddie kept waiting for the day Miss Dotty decided to streak nude through the square. The idea of her dating was a little disconcerting.

  “Ever since the bachelor auction last Valentine’s Day, I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at romance again. I was disappointed, of course, when you outbid me for Grant, but I know he’s too young for me. I need to find someone like Bert. He and Vera have really hit it off.”

  “Bert and Vera are dating?” Maddie couldn’t help but ask.

  “Yep,” Pepper answered. “For about two months now. They got together at the Fourth of July picnic and have been nearly inseparable since then. You haven’t heard?”

  “No,” Maddie said. She didn’t like Pepper’s tone, implying she was stupid somehow for not noticing. Did people not realize that she’d spent all summer getting her new business going? She’d completely overhauled the old Rosewood Bakery. Madelyn’s was on a whole other level. It was elegant and refined, featuring a new selection of French pastries she’d mastered while studying in Paris. The interior was redone with intricately designed blush and cream wallpaper and new wainscoting—which hadn’t put itself up, thankyouverymuch. The crystal chandelier was imported from Marseille.

  And that was just the beginning. She was working on opening a tea shop in the room over the bakery and was already hosting princess-themed birthday parties there. She didn’t have time to worry about what others were doing, especially when it came to two old people making out like teenagers all over town. “I don’t work in the beauty shop, so I’m not privy to the town gossip. Not that I really care.”

  “You should care,” Miss Dotty said. “You might be young and beautiful now, with your choice of suitors, but that won’t always be the case. Someday you may end up like me—an old, withered up widow with needs. Bert and Vera have given me hope that maybe that itch can get scratched.”

  Oh dear Jesus. That was the last image Maddie wanted in her head. She took a deep breath. No, no. She was not going to let those pictures settle into her brain. It was bad enough when she found out that Bert had been responsible for the demise of Rosewood Bakery’s previous owner, who’d died from a heart attack after joining him in a night of passion.

  “What can I get you today, Pepper?” Maddie said, trying desperately to shift the subject away from senior sex.

  Pepper turned back to the case with a twinkle of amusement in her dark eyes. She seemed to get some pleasure out of Maddie’s discomfort. Someone should enjoy it, she supposed. “Give me a blueberry and an apple cinnamon muffin, a slice of the orange pound cake...”

  “That’s Grant’s favorite,” Maddie piped up brightly.

  Pepper looked at her with a deadpan expression. “Yes, I know. A cinnamon roll,” she continued, “and a Bavarian cream horn. That’s for me, so could you put it in a separate box?”

  “Sure thing,” Maddie said, although she didn’t really want to. Her pastry boxes were custom made, pink with embossed gold lettering on the top. They weren’t cheap. Every time she handed one out, she watched that money slip away. She probably needed to invest in some bags for smaller items and some plain boxes, saving the nice ones for more important things. She just hated to do it. It was one of the touches that made Madelyn’s special and it was good advertising. Advertising her father insisted she didn’t need, given she was the only bakery in town.

  Shaking off her father’s doubts, she boxed up Pepper’s order and rang her up. She ignored Pepper and Miss Dotty’s idle chatter while she ran Pepper’s credit card. She was about to slip the signed receipt into the cash drawer when the chime on the front door announced another customer. It was quite the busy Thursday morning.

  Maddie looked up in time to see Miss Francine, the owner of the local flower shop, Petal Pushers, rushing into the door. She came by every morning with a bouquet of fresh flowers that Maddie displayed on the counter. She was clutching a bouquet of pale pink hydrangea and white dahlias, but she didn’t seem particularly interested in the flowers.

  “Oh my heavens, have y’all seen it?” Miss Francine was red-faced and absolutely horrified. She thrust the bouquet across the counter to Maddie and shook her head in dismay. “It’s disgraceful.”

  “Seen what?” Miss Dotty asked.

  Miss Francine took a moment to recover before she could speak of the dreadful thing. “Someone has spray painted a giant penis on the side of the Piggly Wiggly.”

  Keep reading by downloading the next book!

  Stirring Up Trouble

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  Also by Andrea Laurence

  Romances in Rosewood

  Facing the Music

  Feeding the Fire

  Stirring Up Trouble

  Millionaires of Manhattan

  What Lies Beneath

  More Than He Expected

  His Lover’s Little Secret

  The CEO’s Unexpected Child

  Little Secrets: Secretly Pregnant

  Rags to Riches Baby

  One Unforgettable Weekend

  The Boyfriend Arrangement

  Secrets of Eden

  Undeniable Demands

  A Beauty Uncovered

  Heir to Scandal

  Her Secret Husband

  Brides and Belles

  Snowed in With Her Ex

  Thirty Days to Win His Wife

  One Week with the Best Man

  A White Wedding Christmas

  Hawaiian Nights

  The Pregnancy Proposition

  The Baby Proposal

  Other Titles

  A Very Exclusive Engagement

  Back in Her Husband’s Bed

  Seduced by the Spare Heir

  Saying Yes to the Boss

  Expecting the Billionaire’s Baby

  The Baby Favor

  Jingle Spells

  More Than Men

  Sexy As Hell

  The Walking Sexy

  Sexy in a Bottle

  The More Than Men Sexy Tr
ilogy

  About the Author

  Andrea Laurence is an award-winning author of contemporary and paranormal romance. She has been a lover of reading and writing stories since she learned to read at a young age. She always dreamed of seeing her work in print and is thrilled to share her special blend of sensuality and dry, sarcastic humor with the world. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she’s constantly trying to develop a taste for sweet tea while caring for her collection of animals including a Siberian Husky that sheds like nobody’s business.

  www.andrealaurence.com