THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  “I admit she’s a hopeless romantic. But she gave Kailey a hard time. Did she tell you?”

  “Kailey didn’t mention it. All I know is Gen let Kailey in my house. Gen cooked and let Kailey pretend she’d done it. Doesn’t sound like Gen gave her much of a hard time.”

  Wallace quirked a brow. “Since when does Gen let anyone take credit for her cooking?”

  “Good point.”

  “She must believe Kailey.”

  “Yeah.” Joe supposed there was a point in there somewhere, but he didn’t want to think anymore. “How about some pool?”

  By the time Joe had been through two games of pool, one loss, one win, and four rounds of drinks he couldn’t have, he felt like an old man. His back ached, and every muscle in his body screamed in protest: get us some rest, you lunatic! Plane crash! Remember?

  He and Wallace left together, got in their separate trucks and Joe drove home. To Kailey, if she was still there. As he turned into his driveway and saw her sad excuse for a car off to the side, he realized up until that moment he hadn’t even been sure she would be. Inside, the TV was on to Sleepless in Seattle, the scene near the end on top of the Empire State Building. Which meant she’d rented at least one movie for herself. Her favorite. He’d been forced to sit through this movie no less than four times and it was a wonder he couldn’t recite the script by heart the same way she could.

  Kailey was sound asleep on the couch, one bare leg hanging off to the side, both hands tucked under her head like a pillow. They hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements, but he couldn’t leave her here all night. He snapped the TV off, and gathered her in his arms. She slept like the dead, so she didn’t wake at all as he carried her into the bedroom and laid her gently on his bed. He slipped off her boots and she nestled in, making a sweet sound.

  “I love you, Joe,” she said in her sleep and rolled onto her side.

  Well, damn. She always talked in her sleep, usually a lot of nonsense which didn’t make any sense to him: “Give me. No. Strawberry. What color? Hurry up. Paper. Sugar. Blue.” For the first time she’d said something that made sense, and was a bunch of nonsense at the same time. She’d never said those three words to him before.

  Saying them out loud would take the kind of courage he wasn’t sure she had.

  Still, the words did enough to him that he took off his jacket, shoved off his shoes and lay down next to her. He pulled her into his arms and let sleep take him away.

  5

  Kailey loved this dream. She told Joe she loved him a dozen times a day. He’d grown tired of hearing it, but she’d never tire of the way his eyes softened to a deep fathomless blue every time she did. Saying the words had become so freeing she couldn’t stop herself. She’d held them back for too long and now she couldn’t say them often enough. She’d tell him in line at the market, at the gas station, in bed, anywhere and in front of anyone. Eventually Gen grew frustrated, threw an oven mitt at Kailey and told her it was inappropriate to tell Joe she loved him when the oven was on.

  Okay, that made no sense.

  Kailey woke with a start. She was in bed but she couldn’t remember getting here. Joe was right next to her, still asleep. The digital clock on the nightstand read eight thirty a.m. and by some kind of miracle Joe was sleeping past six thirty. He had to be exhausted, or maybe it was his medication. She nudged him to make sure he was still among the living.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Go back to sleep.” Normally she’d snuggle back under the covers and curl into Joe. But no, this was the new and improved Kailey. She climbed out of bed. Darn. Still fully dressed. No real wonder, since she didn’t think she’d forget making love to Joe. Not a chance in hell, actually.

  She had time to play Martha Stewart. In the kitchen, she set the coffee to brewing, and took out the cinnamon rolls Gen had pre-made. The instructions read: bake at three hundred and fifty degrees for forty minutes, remove, let cool, then frost. To save time, Kailey put the rolls in as the oven was pre-heating.

  She had a load of Joe’s laundry in the dryer, so while the rolls were baking she took a basket out to the garage and took the clothes out. Dumping them on the couch, she started to fold in neat piles. The coffee ready, she poured herself a cup and checked on the rolls. They looked and smelled like little pieces of cinnamon dough raining down from heaven. Scrumptious. She was beginning to get a handle on this cooking thing.

  Then she heard Joe getting up, before the rolls were ready. The water went on in the shower, and she cranked up the oven temperature to four hundred degrees. The rolls would now hurry on up and be ready and warm when Joe got out. So far, so good. The clothes all folded, she moved to his dresser to put them away. Socks, socks, and more socks. Did the man have enough white socks? Kailey would have to say yes. They weren’t all going to fit in the drawer. She dipped her hand in to shove some socks to the side, and felt something that didn’t seem to belong. Pulling it out, she saw the distinctive shape of a ring box.

  Her heart stuttered to a stop, and then started up again in triple time. Bing, bing, bing went her heart. God, please let this be for me. But Joe hadn’t given her any indication he’d ever been this—serious. Obviously, he’d changed his mind at some point because he’d never given it to her.

  Or you changed it for him.

  Did she have the right to open it? Screw rights! She lifted the lid of the box to the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen. It was as though Joe knew exactly what she’d want, or maybe she hadn’t known what she wanted until she’d seen what Joe picked out for her. This was it. A simple and unusual setting in a circle, with one large diamond in the center and several small rubies surrounding it. Joe realized more than anyone else how much she loved color. It was perfect. He was perfect.

  And she’d ruined it. She slipped the box back under the mountain of socks.

  “What are you doing?” Joe asked from behind her.

  She startled, turned and pressed her back up against the dresser. “Putting your clean socks away.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” He moved towards her, dressed in nothing but a bath towel wrapped low around his hips.

  “I know. I want to.” Completely unfair, because his naked body always rendered her a little speechless. He had such a perfect form—a hard and chiseled chest, strong muscled forearms more from lifting engines than weights—and washboard abs. Right now his form was battered, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the bruising covering his shoulders and pecs.

  He came within inches of her and her hands went up instinctively to touch and caress the bruising. Then he reached behind her and opened the drawer to pull out a pair of socks, never taking his eyes off her.

  Her hand went up to touch the stubbly hairs on his jawline. He hadn’t shaved yet, and it was almost like he remembered how much it turned her on. She caught him staring at her lips.

  The acrid smell of smoke wafted into the room. “My rolls!”

  She ran back to the oven, but it was too late. Her, or rather Gen’s scrumptious rolls were now tarry black circles of hell. “Oh, no. They’re ruined!”

  Joe shoved open a window and joined her at the oven. “You made these?”

  Kailey wanted to cry, but she bit at the quick of her nail instead. “Yes, actually, I warmed them up. Gen made the dough.”

  “Ah, I thought so.” His lips were quirking like he wanted to laugh.

  “Joe, don’t you dare laugh at me!”

  “I’m not.” His eyes flashed a heat that had little to do with anger and he pinned her against the counter, one arm on either side of her. “Do you remember what I like for breakfast? Because it’s not cinnamon rolls.”

  Boy, did she remember. Morning sex. Oh yeah. “Now? I’m good with that.”

  He kissed her then, long and hard. Her hands threaded through his damp wavy hair, and she got wet in anticipation.

  Joe pulled back from the kiss and squeezed her ass. “Right. I’ll get dressed and we can go to the diner for some
flapjacks.”

  * * *

  Kailey didn’t mind Em and Silas and their greasy spoon diner, but she’d never grown accustomed to the stares she got. Today she’d dressed in the most conservative outfit she had: a pink and white sundress she’d found at the thrift shop and bought to match her hair. She’d covered her pink streaks with a backwards Giants baseball cap, and removed her nose ring.

  “You’re looking good, Joe. Not at all like a plane crash victim,” Em said when she came to their table to take their order.

  “You mean survivor,” Joe corrected her.

  “Of course,” Em said and turned to Kailey. “And who do we have here? Hi, honey.”

  “Em, you remember Kailey,” Joe said.

  “Hi,” Kailey offered with a half-smile.

  “Kailey?” Em’s eyes widened. “You look so different.”

  “Um, thanks?” Kailey smiled a little bit bigger. Maybe different was good this time.

  “We’ll have the flapjacks and a side order of bacon,” Joe ordered for them.

  Em took their menus and left, throwing another curious glance in Kailey’s direction.

  “Great. She doesn’t like me.”

  “Who says?”

  “She gave me a weird look.”

  “She’s more of an A’s fan.” Joe tore open a sugar packet. “Lifer, actually.”

  Kailey removed the hat. Sports rivalries had nothing on pink hair. “You know, when you said you wanted your favorite breakfast this morning I wasn’t thinking you meant flapjacks.”

  “What were you thinking?” Joe grinned.

  He knew exactly what she was thinking. “The breakfast we had every morning when I lived here last time.”

  “Seems like someone cut me off from those benefits, if I’m remembering right.” He gave her the sexy sideways look as he stirred his coffee.

  “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

  “Because you seem to be forgetting it.”

  “I’m not forgetting it.” Kailey poured creamer into her coffee and watched the clouds form. “I want to move past it. I’ve changed.”

  “No one said you had to change. Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Let’s see. Trying to act like you love to cook, taking out your nose ring, and covering up the pink hair.”

  He always noticed far too much. “This is a conservative town.”

  Joe drank from his coffee, then set it down and eyed her. “And I’m not particularly conservative, and I think you know it.”

  “Can I help it if I want the people here to accept me?”

  “They will. Be yourself.”

  For as long as you’re here, seemed to be the unspoken words. She somehow had to prove it to him. She could stay this time, even if she had to force herself to stay. Anything would be better than losing him.

  “I’m going to take a job at the Curl Up and Dye. If she still wants me.”

  His eyebrow quirked up. “What about the Housewives job next month?”

  “Thank you for reminding me. I should give them a call so they have time to find someone else.” She pulled out her phone.

  “Kailey—” Joe’s tone had a warning in it, which wouldn’t work on her. She happened to love his bossy voice.

  “I know what you’re going to tell me. Don’t quit.”

  “I was going to say don’t quit because of me.”

  She put her phone away. “I’ll call her later. I didn’t tell you, but I kind of planned our day.”

  His lips were twitching again. “What did you plan for us?”

  “The Founder’s Day stuff. It’s going on all weekend.”

  “I know.” He slid her a look. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

  “Why not? People come from all over the state.”

  “The Wine Festival in August is better. And bigger.”

  She decided to take it as a good sign. Maybe Joe trusted she’d still be here three months from now. “We’ll go to that one too.”

  “But Founder’s Day is mostly a bunch of skits and silly re-enactments. A whole lot of wine booths and tasting. I haven’t been to it in years.”

  “Then it’s time you give it another shot.” Like me. Give me another shot. “What do you think?”

  Em set their orders down. “Two orders of flapjacks and a side of bacon.”

  Once Em had left, Joe studied Kailey. “We’ll go if you want. Now shut up and eat.”

  6

  Joe pulled into the lot at Skyline Park and prepared to shell out twenty bucks for the privilege of parking there. This wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted Kailey to see this town landmark, when it was overrun by community organizers and vineyard growers. But he wasn’t naïve enough to believe she might still be here six months from now in the autumn season. Even if he’d rather go back home and take a slow tour of Kailey with his tongue, he would go along with her plans. She was killing him a little bit with her efforts to blend in, to be liked. He wanted people to love her too, but they’d have to accept her as she was, pink hair and all.

  First, he’d like to see her accept herself and understand she didn’t have to change for anyone. Least of all him.

  That part would be an uphill battle, but then again he’d never liked easy.

  The Founder’s Day celebration usually included crowds from other parts of the state and he doubted many would notice her pink hair. He wasn’t convinced anyone in Starlight Hill would care about pink hair, although Kailey seemed to agree. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards one of the stages. This ought to be good. Ed from the hardware store was playing town founder Hubert Hill. Joe found seats on the third row for him and Kailey.

  “But Father,” said Paul, Ed’s youngest son, who was now playing Hubert’s son. “I thought we came out here for the gold rush.”

  “Son, take a look at these vines. What do you see?” Ed asked, twitching his eyebrows. The guy needed acting lessons.

  “Grapes?” the kid asked, leaning in.

  “That’s right! Grapes.”

  “But where’s the gold?”

  “Son, look closer. There’s gold there in these grapes!” Ed’s waved his arms around dramatically.

  Cue laughter from the audience. Everyone laughed, including Kailey. Not Joe. He’d seen this skit before, and it hadn’t changed much in the last ten years. The scene continued as the entire family joined Hubert on the stage. One rough winter, hard work and attention to the vines, more land, more money. In his later years Hubert was elected town mayor. Then he was on his death bed, sobbing like a girl when they’d named the town after him.

  Finally, what felt like a decade later, the skit was over.

  “It was hysterical,” Kailey said from next to him.

  “Glad you enjoyed it, but I think Ed needs acting lessons.”

  “Ed?”

  “The guy who played Hubert.”

  Kailey giggled. “No, it was perfect. Acting lessons would have ruined it.”

  “Where to now?” Joe grabbed her hand.

  “More skits! I want to find out all about this town through performance art.”

  He grunted, though he shouldn’t be too surprised. Kailey liked campy stuff. “First, let’s go by Billy and Brooke’s booth. Wallace and Gen might be there.”

  They weren’t, but Billy and Brooke were behind their booth like two movie stars. Someone had hung a sign on the front of their booth which read, ‘No baseball talk today.’ Looked suspiciously like a girl’s handwriting.

  “Hey, buddy.” Billy handed Joe a glass of red. “Good to see you out and about.”

  Joe handed it to Kailey, and watched as her eyes grew wide staring at Billy. She liked to think of herself as a baseball fan, even if she preferred the ‘other’ team. “Billy, meet Kailey. She’s a fan.”

  Billy flashed his megawatt smile and shook her hand. “Great to meet you.” He pulled Brooke close. “This is my fianceé, Brooke.”

  “Hi!” Brooke reached out to shake Kai
ley’s hand. “Hey, great hair.”

  “Yeah, I was just going to say that,” Billy said.

  “I want pink streaks,” Brooke whined.

  “Do it!” Billy kissed Brooke.

  “Brooke used to be one of my best customers.” Joe turned to Kailey. “Jumping out of planes.”

  “You’re kidding,” Kailey said to Brooke. “Why would you jump out of a perfectly good plane?”

  He’d trained Kailey well, and it made him smile. “Some people find it fun.”

  “I haven’t been for a while. I’ve been too busy with opening the vineyard and stuff.” Brooke gazed longingly at Billy.

  Joe was pretty certain what all that stuff involved. The kind of stuff he’d much rather be doing right now. “You’ll have to wait. I need to fix the plane.”

  He pulled Kailey away when more tasters came, and they wound up making rounds of all the skits. Hours later he’d seen more fake beards, bad acting and talk of grapes, grapes and more grapes. Someone shoot him, please.

  He turned to Kailey. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve suffered enough. I don’t know if you heard but I was in a plane crash.”

  She laughed. “Let’s go home and have breakfast for dinner?”

  He loved the gleam in her eye. “Breakfast is good any time of the day.”

  Because he’d parked with a bit of a hike, he made her wait by the curb for him while he got the truck. A few minutes later, he’d pulled up to the curbside but Kailey didn’t notice him. She stood there staring at something off to the side, an odd dazed look on her face. Concerned, he hopped out and walked closer to see Kailey watching a mother and her child.

  “What did I tell you?” the mother shrieked.

  “Don’t dwop it,” the little girl sobbed.

  “And what did you do?”

  “I dwopped it. I’m sowy, Mama.”

  “Now you can’t have ice cream. I’m not a millionaire, you know.” The mother threw down her cigarette and stomped it out with her heeled boot.

  Joe walked to the ice cream vendor and pulled out his wallet. He bought two popsicles and handed both to the little girl, watching her eyes light up. “Here you go, kid. One for each hand.”