THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  He walked back up to the top of the hill and the tasting room, where he found his mother and Genevieve embracing. They were both crying. Fantastic. When would he learn that delegate might as well be a four letter word for him?

  He cleared his throat.

  “We’ve had a wonderful talk,” Mom said. “You come by anytime, sweetheart. Say hello to that brother of yours.”

  “T-thank you, Mrs. Turlock. I’m going to bake you the best organic coconut flour and agave sweetened wedding cake you’ve ever tasted.”

  “Oh, I know you will, sweetie,” Mom said.

  “So— yeah. Thanks, Mom, for this.” He put an arm around Gen, who was sniffling into a tissue.

  They walked to his truck and he opened the passenger door for Gen. When she didn’t move, he lifted her and her quivering shoulders into the seat. Then he buckled her in, and went around to the driver’s seat.

  He slid the key into the ignition. “I’m going to assume it didn’t go well.”

  “She’s in love,” Gen sniffled. “And it’s such a beautiful thing.”

  Of course it was, and he wouldn’t expect Gen to think anything less. Which meant his idea to have her talk to his mother was insane to begin with. “Yeah.”

  Gen hit his shoulder. “What’s wrong with you? Why would you want me to talk her out of getting married? Don’t you get it? You can fall in love with someone after you’ve known them for a few days, or you can love someone for half of your life without them ever knowing it.”

  She killed him, as certain as if she’d put the knife in his heart. “Aw, Gen.”

  He slid over, unclicked her seatbelt and yanked her into his arms because he couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take those tears slicing through his heart. She was hurt, broken, her marriage in ruins.

  “Oh, Wallace.”

  Her head was on his neck and he could feel the salty wetness of her tears. Killing him slowly. “I know you’re heartbroken over your divorce, but it will get better.”

  She sobbed even harder against his neck, proving once again he was useless at comforting women. But for once in his life he wished he could do something, anything, to help Genevieve. She didn’t deserve this. He could only crush her against his chest as they sat in the cab of his truck, and wait for the sobs to subside. She felt so soft against him, and if he were being honest he didn’t mind this part.

  After a few minutes her sobs ebbed, but Gen didn’t move from his arms. She sort of nestled in, and made a little sound in her throat. It sounded kind of sweet, and it did something to him.

  Something a little bit crazy, because when Gen lifted her head he caught her staring at his lips. He didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly his mouth was on hers and she tasted sweeter than he ever imagined. Gen, who baked cakes and pies and pizza for him, and who seriously tasted better than any of those things.

  His hand trailed through her hair and he grabbed a handful and held her in place, kissing and tasting, unable to get enough of her. Gen moaned against his lips and her mouth opened under his. He didn’t know how long they sat there, because it got a little bit wild and he couldn’t seem to pull her close enough.

  Like she felt the same way, Gen literally crawled into his lap. She had her fingers in his hair too, drawing him closer, almost into her, and holy shit had she always kissed like this? He hadn’t felt this turned on in his entire sorry life, and he ignored the little small voice in the back of his mind asking him, begging him, to stop. Gen put her hand under his shirt, and the small voice became a huge red flag waving in the distance.

  And then he heard a horn.

  His own damn horn, because when he’d reached to palm Gen’s ass he’d hit it on the way. He stopped moving and felt Gen smile against his mouth. But this wasn’t funny. Not at all. He moved Gen off his lap and slid her back into place on the passenger side. He fastened her seat belt, ignoring the little sound she made when he did.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “I’m not,” Gen said.

  He didn’t look at her the rest of the way home.

  5

  Wallace had just kissed the breath right out of her! Oh sweet baby, that man could kiss. She’d only been that close to him once, when she was eighteen and Wallace had thrown her into the pool, then jumped in after her.

  She’d emerged from beneath the water and tried to climb onto his back to dunk him. It didn’t work because he was stronger than a tree. Then she’d noticed Joe give her a dark look.

  “Get away from me, you temptress,” Wallace had said, and shrugged her off.

  He’d swum over to Susie Mcallister because she had bigger boobs and also, she wasn’t Joe’s sister. The bitch.

  Wallace was too old for her, Joe had said. Four years! Joe wanted her to leave Wallace alone and stop gazing at him all moony-eyed. Wallace was twenty-two-years-old, Joe had said. Did Genevieve know what twenty-two-year-old men did with their girls? No, but she would have loved to find out. Of course, Joe wouldn’t let her.

  But now, she was a twenty-eight-year-old woman who knew exactly what men did with their girls. Joe was out of town and Wallace right next to her. It felt like the whole world had smiled and said, “You’ve suffered long enough, Gen.” He wouldn’t look at her, but a man’s body couldn’t lie about the way he felt and Wallace was no exception. He wanted her too. Maybe even as much as she wanted him.

  He pulled over in front of her house.

  “About that kiss,” Genevieve started. You can do that again. Joe won’t know because I won’t tell him. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Plus, it’s none of his business.

  He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

  “Okay.” She opened her passenger door. “Are you coming in?”

  “I’m going to drop by the office, and check on a few bids. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Gen watched him drive off, and then went next door to check on Mrs. Paulsen.

  “Hello, sweet thing,” Mrs. Paulsen said, and then waved her inside. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”

  “I was, but it’s going to be all right. Finally.” She had a good sense about this. Wallace had feelings for her, beyond friendship. That was at least a step in the right direction.

  “Do you need anything?” Gen asked.

  “Some of those tiny cinnamon rolls you make?”

  “I’ll bake some for you tomorrow.”

  After she’d made sure that Mrs. Paulsen had the essentials— milk, butter, eggs, bread, chocolate— Genevieve went home and left another dish of water out for the Cat from Hell.

  Back inside, she checked her email. Lots of junk mail, a few dirty email chain jokes from Mom and nothing else of interest. Then she spied an email from Allen, a pithy one in which he gave her his flight information (did he seriously think she would pick him up?). Then Gen noted the email had been sent yesterday morning, and that his flight had arrived two hours ago at SFO.

  She worried a nail between her teeth. This was certainly going to complicate matters. What would Wallace think? What if he thought she was shallow and devoid of common sense for marrying Allen just because he looked like Wallace?

  A little tick started in her eyebrow, a nervous twitch she’d occasionally struggled with as a child and hadn’t for years. Not until Allen.

  She’d been such an idiot marrying him, but it hadn’t entirely been his looks. He’d sort of swept her off her feet, like Wallace had never done. Mostly because he didn’t have to, but still. Allen had his redeeming qualities, but in the end she hadn’t loved him.

  Not like she loved Wallace.

  Her doorbell rang and the twitch in her eye woke up like it anticipated being reunited with its long lost friend. And yes, her eyebrow was right. Allen stood outside her front door. She and her twitching eyebrow opened the door.

  “Hey, babe!” Allen said, as if he was home late from work and had forgotten his key.

  “What are you doing
here?”

  “Aren’t you going to let me in?” He smiled with his perfect veneer teeth.

  “All right.” She moved and let him through the door. “I don’t understand why you’re here.”

  “Didn’t you get my email? Didn’t your mother tell you?”

  “That’s another thing. Why are you calling my mother and not me?”

  Allen bowed his head. “I made a mistake. I’m big enough to admit it. When I asked you to move with me to Austin, when I suggested we make it legal at the dentist convention in Reno, I was being selfish. I should have realized how close you were to your family, and I should have done a better job of getting to know them. So that’s what I’m trying to do now.”

  “Allen, it’s too late.” Even her eyebrow thought so, as it seemed to nod more so than twitch.

  “It’s never too late!” His smile faltered for a moment. “You’re not remarried, are you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then it’s not too late!” He grabbed her by the shoulders.

  Wallace chose that moment to walk through the door. He took one look at Allen and roared, “Who the hell are you?”

  Allen stepped behind Genevieve, and threw up his hands in the air. “Tell him, Genevieve, for the love of all that’s holy! I’m a dentist and my hands are my livelihood. I’m her husband!”

  “Ex-husband,” Genevieve said and then waited for recognition to dawn in Wallace’s eyes.

  But nothing happened. “Gen, do you want this man here?” Wallace demanded.

  “Not really,” Gen squeaked out.

  “Then pal, let me show you the door.” Wallace opened it again with a flourish.

  “I see what’s happening here.” Allen stepped from behind Gen. “You two are—”

  Gen started to say no but at that moment Wallace said, “Exactly.”

  Gen’s eyebrow flew into overdrive. She stared from Allen to Wallace, wondering why neither one of them had noticed it yet.

  “Ah,” Allen said. “Why didn’t you say so? And what’s your name, you lucky dog?”

  Wallace stared at him like he was a piece of gum stuck to his boot. “Wallace.”

  Allen walked towards the front door. “Of course. Well, have fun being Wallace. It was the best two months of my life.”

  Wallace raised a brow to Allen as he walked out, then he slammed the door. He turned to Gen. “You okay?”

  Her eyebrow calmed down, and she went into Wallace’s arms. “Yes. Thank you. I’m glad he’s gone. Did you notice anything special about him?”

  “Yeah, now that you mention it.”

  Gen waited for a beat.

  “Are you sure that guy’s not gay?”

  * * *

  Wallace had finally laid eyes on Genevieve’s ex-husband. He guessed the guy was all right looking for a chump. A little bit too good looking in a smarmy kind of movie star way. He was about as tall as Wallace, same color of hair and eyes, but he dressed like a male model. His hair was trimmed perfectly short with square angles. And that ridiculous smile! Should any man in his right mind smile that much? Wallace didn’t think so.

  Not to mention the fact that he’d hidden behind a woman. If that was the kind of man Gen wanted then he was completely confused. Plus, he felt out of sorts. He would normally be at the cabin, and now that Gen’s renovation was complete and his crew had a job out of town, he had nothing to do.

  The morning after he’d met the dentist, he set about looking for work to be done at Gen’s house. He replaced all the floor boards in the kitchen, and tightened doorknobs. For a moment he considered replacing Gen’s bathroom vanity and then stopped himself before he ripped it all out.

  Now that he had some extra time he drove to the property on the outskirts of town. He pulled over the side of the dirt road in his truck, grabbed the flyer and hiked a few feet up.

  Enjoy the peace and tranquility of the country while being just only minutes from the town. The Redwood Retreat is just the place to build your dream home. Filtered vineyard views and a wooded setting create privacy and cool breezes. Hiking trails adorned by Redwood, Madrone, Oak and Bay Leaf trees along with natural ferns.

  Somebody definitely knew how to cleverly word an ad. But it was indeed a breathtaking view up here. Not like the Sierras, far from it, but the valley had its own charm. He’d also be closer to home and his family which had its own set of attractions and detriments. A few months ago he’d told himself that this year he’d make a decision about where he would move. To decide if he was going to be the brother that lived in the mountains full time. He could easily move his office and follow the work. Not to mention there was plenty of work in the mountains. People retiring from their corporate Bay Area jobs on a regular basis and building their dream homes in the beauty of the Sierras.

  It would depend on where his future wife wanted to live, of course. But since she was nowhere to be found, he’d have to make the decision on his own and learn to live with it.

  He drove to Gen’s shop around noon just to make sure the dentist wasn’t hanging out and making himself comfortable. That’s when he found out apparently everyone in town had already met the guy.

  “So Wallace,” Ophelia said to him, “What do you think of this Allen guy? The dentist? Doesn’t he look familiar?”

  “Not unless you count the back end of a donkey.”

  Ophelia burst into laughter. “Oh, stop it!”

  “Stop what?” Wallace asked.

  It happened three more times the same day. Everyone thought it was funny that he couldn’t think of who the dentist might resemble. Genevieve turned pale every time it happened and quickly found something to do.

  This morning she’d wanted to talk about the kiss again, and he’d told her he needed his toolbox. Then he’d pretended he couldn’t find it until she had to leave to open up the shop.

  Well, if she wanted to talk about the kiss, he wanted to talk about the dentist. He leaned across the countertop. “What’s going on here?”

  Gen wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Well, here’s the thing. It’s just that, you know, don’t you see it? Allen kind of looks like— you.”

  Now it was time for him to laugh. “Are you kidding?”

  “No, I’m not. You’re both so similar and I really can’t understand why neither one of you sees it.”

  “I don’t see it at all. I’ve got brown hair and so does he. So do my brothers, and I’m guessing about three fourths of the population.”

  Gen sighed. “But you both have the same green eyes, same height, same jawline— same mouth.”

  He shook his head, unable to accept or believe he looked like a male model. It was damned insulting.

  “Now granted, your personalities couldn’t be more different.” Gen packaged up some rolls for another customer and rang her up.

  “Thank you for that. If I ever hid behind a woman, I might have to kill myself.”

  The doorbell jingled as the last customer left and the shop was empty again. All except for him and Genevieve, who looked sexier than sin wearing a floral dress and her store apron, a frilly white thing. Too late he realized she might want to ‘talk’ again, and him with his toolbox out in plain sight.

  “Wallace?”

  “Look—”

  “Why didn’t you ever marry?”

  He took a breath. “I guess I never met the right woman. I’m not sure there’s one alive that would put up with me.”

  “Hmm. I doubt that.”

  “Do you? I’m not romantic. Remember?”

  She reached under her counter and started folding boxes. “You would be, with the right woman.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What about Debbie?”

  “Debbie talked too much.”

  “And Ashley?”

  He met her eyes. “Same problem.”

  “Seems to be a common occurrence. What about—?”

  He put out his hand to stop her. “Do not ask me about every single one of my ex-girlfriends.”

&nbs
p; She looked away. “Sorry. A few of them seemed nice.”

  “Maybe you should have dated them.”

  He could have a little bit of fun here now, and see about this crush Genevieve seemed to have on him. Again. “Actually, my wife will need to be a big, strong and stout woman.”

  Ground control to Major Thomas. We have achieved lift off. Gen’s mouth gaped open. “Why?”

  He leaned on the counter edge. “Because of all the work-outs I’m going to put her through.”

  If he wasn’t mistaken, Gen blushed a little bit. “How do you mean?”

  “If she can run a mile in three minutes, that’s a good start.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Three minutes? Isn’t that way too fast? How fast of a mile can you run?”

  “Seven minutes, but that’s not the point. I don’t want my wife to die an early death from cardiovascular disease. That would make me sad. Do you want that for me?”

  Gen looked indignant. “Of course not!”

  It had become difficult not to smile. “So if you see any big women around, wide shoulders and say about six feet tall or so, send them my way.”

  “Will your wife need to cook?” She put her hands on her hips.

  “Sure. Beef stew, probably, and meals that stick to the ribs.” He patted his stomach.

  “I want to show you something.” Gen took his hand and walked to the back of the shop and her ovens. Where the magic happened.

  “Try this.” Gen reached for a rack. “These have been cooling.”

  “You know I’m not much of a sweets guy.” It felt like a sauna back here, something he’d never noticed before.

  “Trust me. These aren’t too sweet. They’re the perfect combination of flour, butter and sugar. Like shortbread. Not too much, and not too little. Just right.” She held out a bite-sized pastry to his lips.

  He took a taste and the pastry almost melted in his mouth. “Um. Okay. That’s good. Really good.”

  “Yeah?” She smiled.

  He’d always loved Gen’s smile. Probably because it was so achingly— real. Unlike the women who usually smiled at him and appeared to be secretly planning his demise. Gen wasn’t trying to look enticing, but she somehow managed anyway.