THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  Her fingers reached up and brushed his lips, and suddenly it was unbearably hot in this back room. Gen reached up and kissed him so hard it almost felt like she was trying to flatten him. He didn’t even think, just reacted and pushed her up against the wall, his hands on her hips pinning her in place. Those same hands worked independently of his brain and searched along the hem of her dress, reaching under— touching soft skin, feeling, and forgetting. He kissed her long and hard. Gen made little moaning sounds that made him crazy, and he got lost in her.

  Until the bell jingled.

  First the horn, now a bell. Maybe next an anvil would fall on his head. He pulled back, leaving them both breathless. He held her little chin in one hand. “You have always been nothing but trouble for me.”

  “Aw, you don’t mean that.”

  “Hell if I don’t.” He smoothed her dress down, turned her around and slapped her little ass. “Now go see what your customer wants.”

  He followed Gen to the front of the store, eyes fixated on her swishing behind. Why didn’t more women wear dresses?

  “Well, hello there!” A man’s voice said.

  It was the damn dentist again. “Are you here for a reason?” Wallace asked.

  “He’s probably here to sample my pastries,” Gen said.

  “That’s a likely story.” Wallace stared down the man. He could swear Allen backed up an inch.

  “Of course that’s why I’m here. Everyone in town talks about them.” Allen smiled his idiotic smile.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” Wallace asked, moving towards him.

  The man stepped back. “Who said I was leaving?”

  “I think I did.” Wallace answered.

  “Would you like a sample?” Genevieve squeaked out.

  “Boy, would I!” Allen answered. “You never baked for me.”

  It sounded like the man had said Gen never baked for him. Wallace couldn’t have heard right. “You never baked for him?”

  “Nope,” Genevieve said, reaching under the display cabinet. “These small Bundt cakes are probably my bestselling item.”

  “I’ll take a baker’s dozen!” Allen said.

  Wallace hung back, watching Gen at work, smiling and talking about what she probably loved most in life— cooking and baking for those she loved.

  She’d baked him a birthday cake every year since he’d known her, and frankly, he’d often had to hide the cake from his own mother who didn’t bake half as well. Over the years he’d tasted Gen’s red velvet cake, chocolate praline, raisin cake, rum cake, and angel food cake. Each one better than the last.

  But she’d never baked for the dentist. Interesting.

  Wallace’s phone buzzed and he checked the caller ID. Finally, Joe was calling. Wallace leveled a warning look at the dentist, and stepped out of the shop. “Hey.”

  “Just checking in. These big guns over here sure like to fly at the drop of a hat. One of them woke me up at two AM just so I could fly him to New York to have a bagel. How’s it going? Did the ex show-up?”

  “Sure did.” Wallace glanced inside the shop. Gen was ringing him up now.

  “So what do you think?” Joe asked.

  “I think he wants her back. But the guy scares easy. We don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Good. My Mom would have a cow if they got back together. Guess it’s hard to forgive a man who married your daughter without inviting the family to the wedding. Plus, Gen cried buckets after that guy. Kept saying she made a terrible mistake, and something about Braveheart. But you know, after the first few minutes, I don’t really listen.”

  Wallace cleared his throat. “By the way, I may have sort of implied to the guy that Gen and I are together. Just to further discourage him.”

  Joe laughed. “Good idea. Did Gen start picking out china patterns yet?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know she had a thing for you. And if nothing else, the guy she married should have been a hint. She went for Wallace 2.0 since she couldn’t have you.”

  Until recently, he’d thought Gen to be long over her crush on him. She’d married a guy, after all. Now he didn’t know what to think.

  Sure, they seemed to click on a physical level at the moment, not that he was going to share that with Joe. The friendship he had with both Gen and Joe was far too important to risk with any kind of a fling. Which meant he had to stop kissing her.

  “Did she change her mind about the floor again?”

  “Tried to.”

  “So you finally decided to lay down the law? Don’t know what took you so long.”

  He wasn’t sure, either. “Well, it’s done now.”

  “Great. Hey, thanks for looking out for little sister, bud.”

  “Welcome. As usual, she’s a handful. You owe me.”

  “Gotta go.”

  He hung up, and turned to go back in the shop, nearly running into Allen. “Watch it.”

  Allen didn’t flinch, to his credit. “I can see you’re the jealous type, mac. But don’t worry, I’m only here to enjoy wine country for a bit. Gen’s made it pretty clear you’re her new Wallace. For now.”

  Wallace frowned. “What do you mean, ‘new Wallace’?”

  But the dentist was already getting into his car, a black Beamer he’d parked in the red zone. Wallace happened to have a silver Beamer himself, one of Billy’s over the top Christmas presents four years ago. Not that he’d ever drive it around town so that people might realize he had money. He was a truck man anyway, but figured the Beamer might be a good safe car to own should he ever have a family.

  The dentist was a piece of work, but basically harmless. Wallace would keep an eye out, but at this point he probably didn’t have to sleep on Genevieve’s couch another night. Who knew what she had planned for him tonight? She worried him all right, but for entirely different reasons now.

  6

  When Wallace was eighteen and in his senior year, Gen said something that woke him up.

  He’d come over to the house to see Joe, who wasn’t back from football practice yet. Mr. and Mrs. Hannigan were still at work and Gen was baking. Chocolate chip cookies if he recalled, and Gen gave Mrs. Fields a run for her money even back then. He and Joe had often been her willing taste testers.

  Like that afternoon. He had followed Gen into the kitchen where he’d been fed one warm oozy melted chocolate cookie after another. Followed by a milk chaser.

  Funny, Genevieve’s mother was an accountant who as far as he’d known had always worked outside of the home. And then there was Gen, channeling her inner Donna Reed. He didn’t get it.

  “Can I ask you something?” Gen had said around a morsel of her cookie.

  “Ask away.”

  “What’s a sixty-nine? Today at school Harry said he’d like to do a sixty-nine with me sometime. Is that some kind of game?”

  He’d nearly spilled his milk. “Who’s this Harry and where can I find him?”

  Gen looked puzzled. “He’s Desiree’s big brother. Why do you look so mad?”

  Gen was fourteen then, an innocent beauty. If Wallace let Joe take care of this, good ol’ Harry might be quietly dismembered and never seen again. He had to take care of this Harry on his own and tell him to stop soiling the minds of the innocent.

  “It’s not something he should be talking to you about.”

  She made a face. “It’s dirty, isn’t it?”

  He sighed. “Yeah. Don’t hang around with that guy anymore.”

  “But he’s Desiree’s brother.”

  “Stay far, far away from him.”

  “Have you ever played sixty-nine?”

  Like any eighteen year old boy, he had high hopes. “No, and let’s not talk about it anymore. It’s sex, okay? That’s all you need to know.”

  She’d been so sweet and innocent. He figured it was because Mr. and Mrs. Hannigan refused to pay for cable television.

  Two years later, Mr. Hannigan was killed in Afghanistan and everything
changed in the Hannigan household. Joe, who had been adrift after graduation, joined the Air Force, following in his father’s footsteps. Gen, who had been Daddy’s girl, walked around town like her arm had been cut off. She wouldn’t leave her mother’s side for about a year.

  After Joe left for basic, Wallace would come around every week and make sure both Gen and her mother had everything they needed. Joe had asked him to, sure, but the truth was he’d have done it anyway. He was working for a contractor in town at the time, learning the ropes. He’d bring over dinners that his mother had cooked, and they were always appreciated by Mrs. Hannigan.

  She was a true southern lady who prided herself on her hospitality. She would often speak in southern phrases he barely understood, such as ‘you’re as busy as a cat on a hot tin roof’ and that he shouldn’t worry because soon Billy would ‘have enough money to burn a wet mule’. She’d tell him that his visits made Genevieve ‘happy as a tick on a fat dog’. Thankfully she never said ‘bless your heart’, which by now he realized meant ‘you must be damn stupid’.

  Another year passed, and one hot summer Saturday night in July there had been at a party at the Anderson’s house and he’d walked in late. The first woman he’d spotted was dancing in the middle of the living room to the beat of “Jump Around” with a kind of rhythm particularly enticing to a horny guy. He figured he hadn’t seen this girl in town before. Probably one of the University students. Dressed in cut-off shorts and boots, she had curvy legs ending in a world class ass begging for a love bite. He’d made up his mind before she turned around he’d give that girl a shot tonight. He was feeling lucky.

  Then she turned around and called out, “Hi, Wallace!”

  He’d felt it like a kick to the groin. His shot— the woman with the kissable ass— was Gen. Something in him shifted and stirred. He pushed those feelings and raw emotion back down, and flew into protection mode. He knew what he’d wanted to do to Gen a few minutes ago before he knew it was her, and there were other guys here who wouldn’t stop until they had her in their back seat.

  He scanned the room, and caught kids drinking alcohol, smoking weed. Nope, no place for Gen.

  He walked up to her, and she’d tried to grab his arm and get him to dance with her.

  “Let’s go. You shouldn’t be here.” Especially not dressed like that.

  “What? Why not? I’m having fun.”

  “Underage drinking. It isn’t safe.” He grabbed her wrist. Sure, it made him feel like an old man. Like he was forty instead of twenty-two, but Genevieve didn’t have a daddy at home anymore and now Joe was off fighting the real bad guys. He could at least take care of a bunch of horny teenaged boys.

  She came willingly at least. “Desiree, I’m leaving! With Wallace!”

  “Woot!” Desiree shouted from the crowd.

  Once in his truck, she buckled up and turned to him. “I’m hungry. Let’s go to the diner.”

  “I was going to take you home,” he said, turning the key in the ignition. “Your mother will be worried.”

  “It’s eight o’clock on a Saturday night! Bless your heart, you think you’re going to make me leave the party and then drag me home?”

  “No need to be rude.”

  “You owe me.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I was having fun and you ruined that.”

  “Fine, the diner it is.” He drove her there, being careful to always walk in front of her and open doors. This not only made him look like a gentleman but it was also a good way to avoid staring at her ass.

  He should have taken her home to change first, but he wasn’t that noble.

  Mr. Peterson’s long-suffering wife slapped down menus. “We’re closing soon. Hurry up and order.”

  He ordered a burger. Naturally it took Gen nearly twenty minutes to decide and order, causing Mrs. Peterson to scrunch up her eyebrows.

  “I’ll take the french fries fried in peanut oil. Salt on the side. I’ll salt them myself,” Gen finally said.

  Mrs. Peterson left in a huff.

  “Why did you drag me out of the party?” Gen asked.

  “I told you. Underage drinking.”

  “So it didn’t have anything to do with the way I’m dressed?”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” he lied.

  “I wish you’d stop worrying about me,” she said, playing with her silverware. “It’s too late anyway.”

  “Too late?”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Too late. I’m not a virgin.”

  Why hadn’t he seen that one coming? “Stop. I don’t need to hear this.”

  “I’m tired of you treating me like I’m a little girl. I’m a woman.”

  “You’re a woman,” he said slowly.

  “I’m only telling you this because I’m not interested in boys my age. I want a man. A real man.” She studied him.

  She wasn’t sweet and innocent anymore. How had it taken him so long to notice?

  Yet it hadn’t taken long enough.

  From that moment on, he’d had to practice averting his eyes every time Genevieve looked tempting, which had become increasingly too often. She had boyfriends— a bunch of losers, all of them. There didn’t seem to be a guy in town worthy of Genevieve. Joe thought so too, naturally. Together they both managed to dissuade anyone without the best of intentions. Unfortunately that meant she hadn’t dated anyone for long.

  He caught a bit of a break when Genevieve went off to culinary school for a couple of years, visiting town sporadically on the weekends. Out of sight out of mind definitely worked for him. During that time he dated a lot of women, and found he had a particular skill at picking out the irrationally jealous ones, because no matter who they were or where they came from each one of them disliked Genevieve intensely.

  He’d finished building the cabin shortly after Joe returned from his last deployment, and every January he started his trek to the mountains. He never once took a woman with him. He told himself it was his time to clear his head, make plans for the New Year, and evaluate his next steps. Deep down he began to question whether it was such a good thing to spend so much time away from people and in solitude.

  Whether maybe he was deciding his own fate by limiting his options. By choosing to be alone. He did occasionally try to picture the woman he wanted to be with for the rest of his life, and to see her clearly in his mind’s eye. His wife, his friend, his lover and confidante. But it never worked.

  Instead, each time he tried he only saw Genevieve’s face.

  7

  Gen had a great recipe for beef stew!

  She dropped by the market and found the perfect piece of meat, then ran into Ivey Lancaster, Brooke’s best friend, in the vegetable aisle. “Hey, Ivey. I’m making beef stew tonight.”

  Ivey picked up a small red potato. “I think these are the best ones for stew. Jeff loves beef stew. I’ve ruined it a couple of times, but I’m getting the hang of it.”

  Gen held back from offering cooking lessons, because she was forever doing that and no one ever took her up on it. “I’ll give you my recipe.”

  Gen spied Ivey’s cart, because she’d long believed you could tell a lot about a person from the food they ate. Ivey had butter, which made her okay in Gen’s book. Not too many people had the nerve to buy butter anymore. But she hadn’t expected to find— was that an early home pregnancy test?

  Ivey smiled. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

  Gen squealed. “You think you’re pregnant?”

  “Shhh. Don’t say that too loudly. But maybe.”

  The two hugged right next to the green beans. “I hope so,” Gen said.

  How romantic. Ivey and Jeff were high school sweethearts and even though they’d spent some time apart, they were back together now and more in love than ever. This meant it was possible for her and Wallace. Entirely possible.

  It was a different world now. They were both grown-ups, Wallace had finally noticed she was a flesh and blood woman, and Joe would have to get over himself.
And those kisses. It had never been as hot near her ovens as this afternoon. Wallace had pushed her up against the wall and his hands— they were so talented, and not just with a hammer. They’d touched her in all the right places. Then her darned bell had interrupted, and Allen had shown up at the shop. Maybe tonight she and Wallace could take up where they left off.

  Whether or not Wallace wanted to talk about their first kiss, he’d given her a few hints tonight that he wasn’t the confirmed bachelor everyone assumed. He’d obviously considered getting married. The problem was he’d never had the chance to find out how good she could be for him.

  Genevieve wanted babies too, about five or six. But she was getting ahead of herself. She hurriedly checked out and ran home, because, if she recalled, beef stew might take a while. It needed to simmer so the flavors could engage and get to know each other. Maybe while it was cooking she and Wallace could do a little bit of simmering of their own.

  She ran inside, tore open the recipe book and gathered all her ingredients. Seasoned the meat, then rushed out to leave a dish of water for Satan and check on Mrs. Paulsen.

  “Who’s that handsome man I saw at your house?” Mrs. Paulsen winked. “Was that Wallace Turlock?”

  “He’s the love of my life.” Might as well be honest. She would need to let Wallace know too, maybe tonight if she could gather her courage.

  “Do tell. Well, I knew his father. The sonofabitch.”

  “Wallace is nothing like him.” Gen waved and ran back inside. She browned the meat in butter, and started boiling a pot of water.

  Finally, Wallace walked through her door. It was so much like being married to him that her heart fluttered. This was how it should have been. How it would be, soon enough. “I’m making you beef stew.”

  He groaned. “I was kidding.”

  “You don’t like beef stew?”

  “Sure, but—” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Okay. Sounds good.”

  “You just relax and I’ll take care of everything.”

  Except he didn’t look relaxed. His jaw was tight when he joined her at the breakfast bar and straddled a chair. “I’m thinking I’ll go back to my place tonight.”