Love Notions (2 page)

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Authors: Mary Manners

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BOOK: Love Notions
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“I’ve been back nearly two years, building my architectural business. I like it here. How about you?”

“I like it here, too, and I’ve come home to stay.” She turned from him as her cheeks flamed and swept a hand over the small display of brochures that highlighted the book discussion group she planned to host. Holding her voice steady was a struggle. He turned her insides to a gloppy mess of gelatin. “Hence this shop…it’s always been my dream.”

“Pretty lofty dream.” His lips pursed into the “come at me” grin that had earned him a month’s worth of days in detention. “Have any others tucked up your sleeve?”

“Maybe…do you really care?” For a distraction, she did a quick sweep of the floor, searching for the spider. Nowhere in sight…must have managed a clean getaway. She prayed they didn’t meet up later in a dark corner of the stockroom.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” Riley stepped over to the magazines, plucked one full of cabin designs, and thumbed through it. “I thought I saw you moving into Heart’s Haven yesterday—cottage seven.”

“That’s right, but how did you know?”

“I’m in cottage eight—right next door.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way.” He folded the magazine and slipped it into his back pocket. “Put it on my tab. Nice digs here at this shop, by the way. Too bad you’ve poured so much time into a project that’s most likely not going to last.”

 

****

 

“What?” Jami raked a hand through honey-blonde hair that kissed her shoulders. Eyes, blue as sapphires, widened as if they’d devour him in one easy gulp. She was like a sleek panther—small, compact, and deadly. Her glossed lips pursed into a neat little bow as her chin dipped in a defiant pout. “Of course Nana’s Novel Notions is going to last. I’ve spent nearly a year conducting research, and I’ve crunched numbers a hundred times.”

“Cute name. Very…original.” He dismissed her latter comments as he took the wadded paper towels from her hand and, without so much as easing up on his toes, swiped the offensive spider web from the ceiling. “Is this what you were after?”

“Thanks.” She watched as he tossed the towels into a nearby trashcan. “But I don’t understand what you’re getting at. Why won’t my shop succeed?”

“It’s simple.” He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and tried his best to deny the fact that standing so close to her, inhaling the subtle scent of her floral perfume, turned his pulse to a ticking metronome. “How carefully did you read your lease before signing on the dotted line?”

“Carefully enough.”

“So, you’re familiar with the clause about a buyout?”

“Of course, but that will never…”

Riley sensed the exact moment realization dawned. Her chin shifted up and her gaze narrowed dangerously. He backpedaled to lean against the wall, grinning. “Light bulb moment, huh?”

“Don’t tell me.” Jami blanched, sputtered as she lunged toward him, and jabbed an accusing finger at his chest. “Not
you
.”

“Yeah, me.” He snatched a mint from the ceramic bowl on the checkout counter to his right. Yeah, he’d toyed with the thought of asking her to the prom after the Jacob debacle, but she was so perfect and polished—so completely out of his league at the time—that he hadn’t bothered to chance the humiliation of being turned down. She avoided trouble while he was the very definition. Plus, his parents had fallen on hard times, both laid off from their respective jobs within two weeks of one another. The only tux he could afford back then was borrowed from his dad. Upon inspection, the suit was a little too long in the legs, a little too short in the arms, and about two sizes too small.

But he still remembered the shimmer of blue draped over the back seat of Jami’s car when she and her grandmother found him stumbling along the side of the road, the gash in his head pouring blood. As her grandmother sped the length of the boulevard to Angel Fall’s Hospital while Jami pressed wadded tissues to his forehead to staunch the flow, Riley imagined the fabric caressing her curves and skimming her calves as she spun to music. What he wouldn’t have given for the chance to wrap his arms around Jami’s waist as they glided together across the dance floor. Yeah, the battle with the barbed wire had launched him a bit out of his head.

“Are you OK?” Jami’s voice drew him back to the present. Her blue eyes searched his.

“I’m fine.” But he wasn’t…not really. She’d loosed something that had been lodged inside him, and he didn’t like the wash of emotions the memories elicited, not at all. Because he definitely wasn’t a misguided kid anymore. He’d worked too hard to shed the confining skin, to leave the past behind and dive into the future. He cleared his throat and held steady to Jami’s gaze as he stiffened his resolve. “But don’t get all worked up about the prospect of a buyout. It’s just business, baby.”

 

 

 

 

2

 

“I’m not your baby.” Jami strode behind the counter and snatched a mint of her own. She unwrapped it and tossed it into her mouth, letting red-hot peppermint burn over her. She had to chew on something and it was the mint or Riley. She turned her back to him, taking a moment to straighten a small display of inspirational notecards. “Don’t call me that.”

“Gets under your skin, doesn’t it?”

“Not much has changed. You’re still incorrigible.”

“Maybe by your standards, but not by mine. But if it’s a crime to have a dream—to pursue that dream—then I’m guilty as charged.”

“Well, by
your
standards, Nana’s Novel Notions might just be business—a
project
— but, to me, it’s everything.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so.”

“Well, I have a project, too. Did you notice the architectural firm next door?”

“Yes, of course I did. Designs by Riley…” Jami did a quick spin, turned back to face him, dropping a notecard. It fluttered to the floor and slipped beneath the checkout counter. “Oh, no. Not
that
, too.”

“Yes, that, too. And I have plans to expand. This complex is perfect, and I’m going to do my best to make it happen—soon.” He nodded to emphasize. “I’ve dreamed of building an architectural firm my whole life. I have goals too, you know, and Angel Falls is the perfect venue to bring them to fruition.”

“You can’t. You wouldn’t. Not now.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

“I can give you a million reasons.” Jami sighed and swiped hair from her brow, wishing the AC repairman would materialize and rescue her from this infernal sauna. Even the candles on display were beginning to wilt. By the grand opening, they’d be little more than a puddle. The scent of warm apple pie mingled with pine, making the shop smell more like Christmas than the dog days of June. “Look, it’s too hot in here to argue, and I don’t even know why you’re being so…unneighborly.”

“Unneighborly?” He laughed out loud. “Is that what you’d call it?”

“I would.”

“I surrender.” Riley held up both hands. “You’re right. It
is
too hot in here to continue this…discussion. Let’s take it back to the Haven. I’ll drive.”

“No, thanks.” She’d rather hitch a ride home in the jaws of an alligator. “I rode my bike.”

“Which bike?” Riley eased over to the display widow and peered into the quiet boulevard. “That cute little neon-pink retro Schwinn parked out front—the one with a basket hooked to the front handlebars and a miserably flat rear tire?”

“What!” She pushed past him to the shop door, her mood further deflating as her gaze swept the length of the bike. “Oh no! How did
that
happen?”

“Looks like you ran over a sea of glass.” He motioned to a flurry of shards scattered over the concrete, sparkling like jagged diamonds beneath the late-June sun. “Creates a little emergency, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t.” Jami tapped her nails on the polished window as her breath fogged the glass. “I’ll just walk.”

“Nine miles?” Riley’s laughter echoed off the honey-tanned shop walls. “In that case, you might make it home by midnight.”

 

****

 

“This isn’t the way home.” Jami leaned forward in the passenger seat of Riley’s truck and pointed west into a halo of late-afternoon sun. “Heart’s Haven is
that
way.”

“I know how to get home.” Riley adjusted the radio dial and lowered the driver’s window so a breeze rushed through the cab. He loved the lush smell of Angelina Forest pine that made everything seem fresh and new. It reminded him that he was new, too. It would serve him well to remember that and rein in his emotions before he fell too far into old, destructive habits. He’d started off on the wrong foot with Jami—again—and he planned to rectify that. “I have to make a quick stop.”

“Does it have anything to do with that cooler nestled beside my bike in the bed of your truck?”

“Maybe.”

Her lips curved into a scowl as her nose wrinkled, making a cute smattering of freckles more prevalent. “It’s not holding Bambi, is it?”

“No.” Riley grinned as he changed lanes. “I gave up my hunting days after that accident and the dozen painful stitches—not to mention the tongue-lashing I got from my dad and the tears from my mother. Dad took my license, too. I have a job now—and a generous income—so I figure it’s safer to buy my meat in the grocery store.”

“Well, I’m a vegetarian…sort of.”

“Figures.” He turned the corner and headed down Pleasant Ridge toward Mrs. O’Leary’s house. “Though I don’t know how someone can
sort of
be a vegetarian.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Jami shrugged. “I try to travel the vegetarian straight and narrow. It’s just that I crave a burger every now and then.”

“Of course you do. But I would have guessed you’re more of a filet kind of girl.” He tapped the gas pedal, pushing the speed limit along the deserted road. “Or maybe even caviar.”

“Fish eggs? That’s even more disgusting than Bambi.” She shook her head. “Besides, caviar is expensive.”

“I didn’t figure that would be a problem for you, seeing as how your grandmother indulged you with everything you ever wanted. That dress alone must have cost her a month’s salary.”

“It wasn’t
that
expensive.” Jami clasped her fingers, gnawing her lower lip. “And I worked hard to help out and earn my keep after my parents died. Oh, by the way, my cheerleading paid off with a free ride to Texas A&M so I could earn a business degree. What about you?”

“I don’t look good in a tight little skirt.” He imagined she did, though. Actually knew it for a fact.

“Very funny.” She waggled a finger at him. “Anyway
, that’s
how I afforded college—that scholarship and a part-time job shelving books at the campus library. So, say what you want about the merits—or lack thereof—of cheerleading. It worked for me.”

“Sounds too exciting for words.”

“Right. So, hop down from your high horse and grab a ring buoy before you drown in a sea of pity.” She grabbed the dash as he took a corner a little too fast. “You’re not the only one who’s had it rough.”

“You’re right.” He glanced at her, a needle of guilt piercing him. “And I deserved that. I’m sorry about your folks. I know it’s been hard for you.”

“I’ve managed just fine.” Jami’s gaze drifted from him to the whitewashed, clapboard house at the top of the street’s quiet cul-de-sac as the car slowed. “Is that…?”

“Yep, Mrs. O’Leary.” The elderly woman sat in a wooden rocker, her shock of white hair curling in the breeze. She broke into a gap-toothed smile as Riley downshifted and turned into the blacktopped drive.

“Is that you, Riley?” she called.

He leaned his head out the window as he spun the steering wheel, angling to park along the length of the porch. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And you brought a friend, too,” Mrs. O’Leary stood as Riley parked the truck. “All I can make out is a pretty wave of blonde hair. Who is it?”

“Jami Mitchell. You remember her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Excellent student. One of the best.” She leaned on the porch rail, motioning as her voice, worn with age, cracked. “Come in dear and have some tea and cookies. This is such a treat. Riley didn’t tell me he was bringing company.”

“I snagged you some of that mixed-berry yogurt you like and the rest of the things on your grocery list.” Riley switched off the ignition. “And I picked up a handful of surprises, too.”

“Thank you. That’s perfect. My daughter’s coming from Dallas this weekend for a visit. She’s bringing my little grandson, too.” Mrs. O’ Leary turned as Riley eased from the truck and rounded the bed to grab the cooler. “She’ll be tickled pink.”

“Good. I’ll just carry this in and put it away for you.” He paused at the passenger window and nodded toward Jami. “You remember Mrs. O’Leary, don’t you?”

“Honors Calculus. You gave her fits our junior year.” Jami sighed. “She was old as dirt back then, the poor woman. She retired that spring.”

“That’s right. My teammates and I caused her a boatload of stress. Now, I’m making up for my transgressions.”

“So, you’ve grown a conscience?”

“You could say that.” Riley jostled the cooler onto his hip. “There are worse things to grow. Come on inside and keep her company while I stash this stuff in her refrigerator. It’s not often someone ventures out to sit with her.”

“Except for you, right?” Jami opened the passenger door.

“Uh-huh. Every Thursday.”

“Well, of course I’m game. Someone who taught as long as she did…I’m sure she has endless entertaining stories to tell—including an arsenal about you.”

 

 

 

 

3

 

“Would you like me to read, Mrs. O’Leary?” Riley’s voice, low and steady, drew Jami’s attention as she settled into a wing-backed chair near the living room window. “Or would you rather have a go at it, Jami?”

“Me?” She shook her head. “No, you go ahead.” Her mind still reeled with the idea that Riley wanted to pray, that he so easily and comfortably shared his desire to speak to God. Was this the same guy who, through their high school years, had been tight-lipped to the core, sharing his thoughts and opinions mainly with his fists? What had happened to the old Riley—the in-your-face obnoxious know-it-all-bully she’d sat through classes with during high school? Maybe she was dreaming.

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