THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  “Kiss me first. Tell me later.” Her robe opened, making it clear she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

  “But—”

  She parted her lips and kissed him, her fingers threading through his hair. He stopped thinking.

  Pure instinct led him to pull on the robe tie till it came loose and his hands could explore and touch her achingly soft skin. He trailed kisses along her earlobe and down the column of her neck, and heard her moan. She reached under his shirt and flicked his pec with her finger.

  He heard himself groan. “Oh fuck, Gen.”

  She smiled. “Okay. But I prefer to call it making love.”

  He stood, lifting her up in his arms with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.

  Much later, he lay with a beautiful woman in his arms, and a lazy Sunday in front of him. Which meant he was an idiot for doing what he was about to do. He kissed the top of her head. “Hey.”

  She lifted her head from his chest and smiled at him. “Did you get your second wind?”

  She did make him smile more than anyone else in recent history. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m going to the cabin today.”

  She sat up. “What? Why?”

  “It’s what I do.”

  “It’s what you do. What does that mean?”

  He got out of bed and slipped on his boxers. “I need to be alone for a little while, to think.”

  “You can only think in the mountains?”

  “There’s a lot of maintenance I need to do at the cabin, and I haven’t been back there in months.”

  “But you’re usually gone too long.”

  “Not this time.”

  “Wallace,” she said, a little desperately, it seemed, “I’m afraid you’re going to talk yourself right out of you and me. You’re going to do me the great favor of not letting me fall for you. Guess what? It’s too late for me. I love you.”

  Those words shell shocked him, coming from her. But they were only words, he reminded himself. Words many girls had thrown his way before.

  Words he didn’t deserve. “Gen, don’t—”

  She grabbed his shirt, threw it on and climbed out of bed. “I’m not afraid. I love you, and you can’t stop me!”

  “I’m not trying to stop you.”

  “The hell you aren’t. You’re being an asshole. That’s not you.”

  “Maybe it is me.” Crap, why couldn’t she see that the past week and half had shifted the ground beneath them? Wasn’t it time to take a minute and take stock? Take a breather? Evaluate what they were about to risk losing?

  “I know what you’re doing. Are you picking Joe over me?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Yep, absolutely the wrong thing to say.

  Her blue eyes were blazing with fury. “Ridiculous? Who’s being ridiculous here? Joe will get used to the idea of you and me. We’re all grown-ups here.”

  He put his pants on. “I just need some time.”

  “Time away from me?”

  She was destroying him now, that agonized look in her eyes he’d do anything to avoid— anything but change who he was, because he couldn’t do that.

  “Not time away from you. I’ll call you.”

  “Don’t bother. Take all the time you want,” she said quietly.

  “I’m going to need my shirt,” he said, staring at it draped on her luscious body.

  That’s when his girl took off his shirt, rolled it up and threw it at him like it was a missile.

  He probably deserved that.

  10

  Genevieve never opened the bakery on a Sunday, and this was a good thing because now that she wasn’t going to spend the day rolling around in bed with the single most handsome man on the face of the earth, she had plenty of time to go kick her brother’s ass.

  A couple of hours later, Gen knocked on the door to her brother’s living quarters in the back of the small county airport where he both lived and worked.

  She heard him rustling around inside and knocked again. Louder.

  “For the love of God, stop the noise. I’m coming.” He opened the door, looking like a casualty of war. The Tequila Wars. “Are you trying to knock the door down?”

  “Bite me, Joe,” she shouted.

  He winced. “Yeah, I’m guessing this has something to do with you and Wallace. So come on in.”

  “Rough night?” she asked. “Your face looks fine.”

  “My face?” He walked to the refrigerator, and pulled out a carton of orange juice.

  She jammed her hands on her hips. “Wallace had a shiner this morning. Black and blue.”

  “I vaguely remember that and he deserved it.”

  “He deserved it? You appointed yourself judge and jury, did you?”

  Joe took a swig of juice directly from the carton and set it down. “I asked him to look after you, and he took liberties.”

  “He told you that?”

  Joe slowly shook his head. “He didn’t have to. I saw it in his eyes. I guessed. He’s my best friend, remember?”

  “Did you maybe think I had a say in this?”

  Joe pointed to her. “He shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. It wasn’t honorable.”

  “Oh, please spare me all your honor crap. If anyone took advantage, it was me.”

  Joe put his hands over his ears. “Shit! Stop!”

  “Wallace and I are two consenting adults,” she shouted.

  “If he wanted to date you, he should have cleared it with me first.” Joe put his hands down.

  “No Joe, he didn’t need to do that. I’m a grown woman and you’re going to stop interfering in my life. Why do you think I had to leave the state to be married? Could it be because no one I ever dated was good enough for you?”

  “Don’t put that on me! You married a guy you didn’t even know, because he looked like Wallace. Does that make a whole lot of sense to you?”

  Leave it to Joe to hit her where it hurt. Buckets. “I made a mistake. But I learned my lesson. I’m never settling again.”

  Joe slumped down on his couch. “You think you know Wallace, but you don’t. You have this dream in your head of this perfect guy. Do you think maybe you’ve idealized him a little? He’s not perfect, you know. Did you ever once to stop to think that’s not fair to him?”

  “No, I—”

  Joe held up a hand. “No one man can be everything for a woman. And you picked Wallace, the one guy who feels like he has the responsibility of the entire world on his shoulders. The one guy who would never want to let you down. You kind of set him up to fail, little sister.”

  “No! I did?” She felt sucker punched. Gutted. Is that what she’d done? How had she not seen this coming?

  “He hasn’t got the best track record with relationships.”

  “Neither do I. But we’re right for each other, I know it.” She sat down next to Joe. “I love him.”

  Joe drew her into a hug. “If it helps, I can see that he loves you. He’s never had that look in his eyes before.”

  “What look?”

  “Kind of shocked, stunned. Like he wasn’t sure what hit him.”

  Gen hit Joe’s shoulder. “You hit him.”

  Joe laughed. “Only because he let me. Believe me, I couldn’t have done it otherwise. Especially drunk off my ass. But that’s the kind of guy he is.”

  “The best.” At least they agreed on something. “And now he’s gone to Miwuk.”

  Joe made a face. “You’re not going to be the clingy kind of girlfriend, are you?”

  “I let him go, didn’t I?”

  “Let him? Wallace isn’t like your old boyfriends. You’re not going to be able to lead him around by the nose. You haven’t thought much about what you could both lose, have you? If you two break up, things will never be the same again. Even worse if you should get married, and then divorced. How are the rest of us supposed to deal with that?”

  On
e divorce. One divorce and she had a pattern. “Don’t you think I’m worth the risk?”

  Joe sighed and stretched his arms out on the couch. “Yeah. It doesn’t matter what I think. You made that clear.”

  “It matters.” Gen couldn’t help the whine that crept into her voice. She wanted Joe to believe she was worth it too.

  “Of course you are. Dad wasn’t the only one who thought so, you know.” Joe grinned.

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  Now she only needed to know what Wallace believed.

  * * *

  Every single foot of elevation took Wallace further away from the guilt settling in his bones. By two thousand feet of elevation, he’d finally dispelled the image of Genevieve, buck naked after she’d ripped off his shirt and thrown it to him. Somewhere after Twain Harte, he’d forgiven himself for not asking Genevieve to come with him. The purpose was peace and quiet, after all. By the time he reached Miwuk Village, he’d come to the realization that he was a man who needed to be alone sometimes. And that was okay.

  But by the time his truck reached the end of the long secluded lane on which his cabin sat, he was damn sure that he was head over heels in love with Genevieve.

  The issue was what he would do about that.

  The cabin waited for him with several feet on snow blocking the entrance. The steps leading up to the doorway had several feet on each one. Beautiful. He took out his shovel and got busy, working up a sweat.

  Several hours later as night fell, he’d had a good work-out and opened his front door. It was so cold inside he could see the cloudy puffs of his breaths. First order of business was to turn on the gas pilot light, which he did. Next the water heater. He went to his stocked wood pile in the garage, got some aggression out by chopping logs, and started the fireplace going.

  With the fire roaring, the cabin began to warm and he was able to peel off his jacket and hat. So far, it was going well. Several hours now, and he’d only thought of Gen a handful of times. Unless maybe that wasn’t good. He had no real measuring stick to compare.

  Between the drive, shoveling and wood cutting, he figured he’d turn in early. But first, to check in with little brother. He picked up his land line since he hadn’t been able to get good reception on his cell and dialed Scott, because he hadn’t checked in with him since he’d started at the Academy. Scott had simply been born a rescuer. No matter where he landed, he always found the strays and brought them home. Both people and animals.

  “Who the hell is this?” Scott answered the phone.

  Still had the manners of an alley cat. “Who do you think, smartass?”

  “I thought the caller ID said Wallace Turlock, but my eyes must be deceiving me.”

  “It’s me.”

  “Aren’t you at the cabin?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then why are you calling me? I didn’t expect to hear from you this month.”

  “Figured it was okay to call my brother.”

  “Sure, but no one ever hears from you in January. It’s like you disappear off the face of the earth.”

  He scratched his jaw. “Am I that bad?”

  “Depends on what you mean by ‘bad.’ We know you like to be alone sometimes, and we let you be.”

  Never mind that he questioned how healthy all the alone time had become, but apparently he’d trained his family. Or maybe they just didn’t miss him.

  He talked for a few more minutes with Scott and once he was certain all was well, they hung up. He couldn’t help but be a little protective of Scott, who as the youngest didn’t even remember their father. Often Wallace considered it was better that way. Unfortunately he remembered their Dad all too well. He used to take off for entire weekends at a time, coming back in a snit. Even when he was home, he was never really present.

  Crap. He’d turned into his father.

  Had he? Nah, it couldn’t be. Maybe they had some characteristics in common, like a love for solitude. Well, they weren’t the only two people on the face of the earth who liked some alone time. He was almost sure of it. No, he wasn’t a jackass who would leave a wife and three boys just to feed some selfish inner need.

  He was just the jackass who would walk away from the woman he loved so he could stick to his routine. Shit.

  Gen. He shouldn’t have left at all, dammit.

  But he couldn’t understand this thing between them. She was right in that everything had changed. He’d always thought love would grow gradually, and not hit him over the head like a sledgehammer. But that’s how he felt— dazed, confused. He’d never been one to make sudden decisions, but he’d fallen into bed with Gen without thinking. He’d never let emotions rules him. But he loved her. Maybe he always had. She was feisty and funny, smart and independent. Kind. He had a sudden image of her lying next to him, smiling, hair wild, face pink from exertion.

  She was so freaking beautiful.

  He must have drifted off on the couch thinking about Gen, because when he woke up dawn was breaking.

  He walked over to the floor to ceiling window he’d designed to face east so he could watch the sun rise over the Sierras. The sun was a crimson and yellow explosion of color this morning as it made its way up the mountain crest. And that was the thing about the mountains— a person could see better from up here.

  At least that’s what he kept hoping.

  * * *

  Wallace had been gone for a few days, and Gen couldn’t stop baking. It was her therapy, day and night. She had enough Bundt cakes, cupcakes and donuts to last should Armageddon come. A good thing, too, because what kind of world would it be without cake?

  She hadn’t stopped thinking of Joe’s words. If Joe was thinking she and Wallace had too much to lose, there was every possibility Wallace thought the same. But after all she’d been through she couldn’t let him give up now.

  She’d made a mistake with Allen, but at least she’d realized it quickly. She’d returned from Austin, bought the bakery from Mrs. Lewis, and stewed for a while wondering how she could best get Wallace’s attention. He had broken up with Ashley, so the timing was perfect. And then Gen had an inspiration— remodel the shop, so that she could hire Wallace. She’d see him every day, and eventually he’d notice her.

  She’d worn her sexiest dresses, and tried to flirt with Wallace. If any other woman had picked up his nail gun and asked if he would nail her, would he look alarmed, grab it out of her hands and tell her to get back to work? Not likely. And while she’d still been wondering how to hit him over the head with it, Wallace seemed to think he’d be done within a week. That wouldn’t do at all, so she started changing her mind and delaying progress.

  Now he’d noticed her— noticed she was a woman— oh boy, had he noticed. But where was he? In the mountains! He wasn’t fooling her, or anyone else. The man was running away from her.

  She missed him so much, his touch, his smile, his hands. His extremely talented mouth. All that missing had put her in the foulest mood of her life. This had to be shocking, since Genevieve Hannigan didn’t do foul mood. Her mother had raised her to be a well behaved southern lady, one who said ‘bless your heart’ which every southern woman knew was code for ‘shut your mouth’. Then Mama and Daddy had transplanted her to the west coast and expected Gen and Joe to keep their southern ways. Maybe she still had a trace of her southern accent left, but she’d lost some of the southern lady charms Mama had hoped she wouldn’t.

  At least people were mostly leaving her alone, like they were afraid if they asked too many questions she might hit them with a stick of butter. Or worse, cut them off from her pastries. Naturally, everyone in town had already heard all about her and Wallace. They were a thing. And then they weren’t a thing. Or were they? Everyone was dying to know, Desiree told Gen.

  But were too afraid to ask.

  It made sense, since she had doled out quite a few ‘bless your hearts’ in the past two weeks. And every time she did, the person reacted as though they’d been slapped. They were onto he
r.

  Without a doubt, dough was a woman’s best friend, and today more than ever. She pounded a hunk of it— which for the moment was Wallace’s handsome face — into submission. It took a licking. Then she smoothed it down, because she really did love the idiot. She sprinkled some flour over it, rolled it into a ball and then began the process all over again. She was beating Wallace for the fifth time when the doorbell chimed.

  Ed from the hardware store held up both hands defensively. “Now, don’t get upset. But I need a cake. Today, if you can.”

  “Perfect, Ed! Nothing like coming in at the last minute. I hope you’re not picky about what kind.”

  “No, no, whatever you have.”

  “I suppose you want it decorated too?”

  He cringed. “It’s my wife’s birthday. I forgot. Can you? Please?”

  Gen felt her eyes narrow to little slits. “Well, bless your heart. I’ll do it for your wife.”

  “Thank you,” Ed said and slinked out the door. “I’ll be back later.”

  Great, so now she had a cake to bake. Unless she wanted to get creative and use what she had available. Ed really was a piece of work, but then again so were most men. Men were nothing but vile creatures put on this earth to torment the women who loved them.

  As if he heard her thoughts, Allen walked into the shop.

  “What do you want?” Gen greeted him.

  He took a step back. “I just came by to say goodbye.”

  “Good. You’re finally leaving.” That sounded a little too mean, and somehow she heard her mother’s voice all the way from Alabama imploring her to behave like a lady. She corrected herself. “I mean, bless your heart, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I doubt that but I have to get back to Austin.”

  Gen nodded. “It’s for the best.”

  “I never really told you the truth about why I came here,” Allen said.

  “I thought it was to get me back.”

  “Partly. I mean, I thought it was worth a try. But the truth is I wanted to know what I’d done wrong.”