The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane (Life in Icicle Falls) (11 page)

The Red Barn was an old converted barn, and the inside was decorated appropriately, the lobby occupied by a life-size plastic Jersey cow. Framed photos of barns around eastern Washington hung on the walls. The dance floor was huge, but it was crowded with patrons from neighboring towns like Peshastin and Cashmere, a veritable beehive of dancers and drinkers. Nearly every table between the bar and the dance floor was occupied, if not by people then by the drinks they’d left behind while they hit the dance floor, and there wasn’t a seat to be had at the bar. The old hardwood floor was a swirl of denim skirts and jeans as dancers whirled around the floor in a cowboy cha-cha.

Todd attracted other women’s attention like a magnet attracted nails, and Cecily was very aware of the glances, the winks and the outright drooling going on as they found their way to the last vacant table in a far corner. Hardly surprising, considering those dark brown eyes, the
let me kiss you senseless
lips and the strong jaw. And then there was that nice set of pecs and the lean torso. He was a fine specimen, all right.

On the outside. She hoped he proved to be as perfect on the inside.

So far, so good. If he was at all aware of the female attention he was garnering, he didn’t let on. Instead he focused solely on her as they settled at their table.

“So, how about I go order us a couple of Cokes?”

She cocked her head. “No alcohol?”

“Alcohol makes for sloppy dancing,” he said. He ran a hand along her arm. “I did promise to give you a tango lesson a long time ago. Remember?”

She remembered. She’d been on the beat-up leather couch in his shadowy back room, recovering from an encounter with an angry dog, and Todd had been close enough to put her on sensory overload. He seemed to have a gift for doing that.

“This isn’t exactly a ballroom,” she said, looking at all the couples now country two-stepping around the old wooden floor.

“No? Wait and see,” he said. “Be right back.”

She watched as he threaded his way between tables. Women’s heads swiveled as he passed, and their men frowned. Cecily realized she was frowning, too. Being with Todd Black would require constant vigilance because there’d always be other women waiting to take him away.

Do you know what you’re doing?
she asked herself, echoing Luke’s question.
Yes,
she answered,
this time I do.

Her pal Juliet Gerard was out on the floor with her husband, Neil. Once the dance ended and Juliet caught sight of her, she came over with Neil in tow. “You should’ve told me you were coming here tonight,” Juliet scolded. “You could have come with us.”

“I didn’t know myself until a few minutes ago.”

Just then Todd returned with their drinks and Juliet’s eyes got big. “Oh.”

“Hey, Todd,” Neil said, shaking hands with him. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad,” Todd said.

“You guys wanna join us over at our table?” Neil motioned to a table where Chita, from Cecily’s book club, was sitting down with her new husband, Ken Wolfe. “We can always drag up a couple more chairs.”

“We’re good here,” Todd said, “but thanks.”

Neil shrugged. “Suit yourself. See you at practice next week.”

“Practice?” Cecily asked as the two made their way back to their table.

“He’s on my softball team,” Todd explained. “The Falls Neanderthals.”

“Catchy. Do you all wear caveman jerseys?”

“Now, there’s an idea for next year,” he said and guzzled down some of his pop. A new song was starting, and he set the glass down. “Come on. Let’s two-step.”

Once on the dance floor, he showed her that he knew what he was doing, leading her through several fancy moves.

“Okay, that was impressive,” she said as they walked off the floor.

“I can be impressive when I want to be,” he said.

He could be impressive without even trying. Cecily was well aware of two women at a nearby table eyeing him as though he were the last piece of chocolate on the planet. “How is it you’re still single?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said.

“I asked you first.”

He took a drink of his pop. “I’m cautious.”

“And why is that?”

“Don’t want to get burned.”

“Have you been burned?”

“Once or twice. Okay, now it’s your turn.”

“Wait a minute,” she protested. “You didn’t go into very much detail.”

He leaned an arm on the table and regarded her. “Why do women always want details about stuff like this? It’s kind of ghoulish, doncha think?”

“No.”

“Well, then let’s go into detail about
your
past. How is it that a beautiful, smart woman like you is still single?”

“Bad choices.”

His brows drew together. “Didn’t you say you used to own a dating service?”

She should never have started this conversation. “I guess it was easier to match up other people than myself.”

“Because?”

“Because?” she repeated. No one had ever asked her that before.

“Yeah, because. Why do you think that was?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. She was like the matchmaking equivalent of a doctor who smoked—knew better but still did dumb stuff anyway. She hoped being with Todd wouldn’t turn out to be yet another dumb move.

“So, what, were you out there searching for Mr. Perfect?”

“There’s no such thing,” she scoffed. She’d seen enough to know that.

“You’ve got that right. There’s not,” he agreed. “Or a Ms. Perfect, either. Just the one person who’s perfect for you.”

It was precisely what she’d thought herself, but it seemed like such a non-Todd thing to say. She could feel her mouth dropping.

“Hey, don’t look so surprised. I’m not a total Neanderthal.” The band had switched to Gloriana’s “Good Night,” and Todd nodded at the rapidly filling dance floor. “Come on. It’s time you learned how to tango.”

“To this?”

“Trust me,” he said and held out his hand.

She didn’t trust him at all. Didn’t trust herself, either. What was she doing? She took his hand and took a jolt to the heart.

Out on the floor he pulled her close so they were chest to chest. She was going to ignite here on the dance floor. “Start on your right foot,” he said, his breath tickling her ear as he started moving her backward. “Two slow steps. One more and then side and touch,” he finished, guiding her through the moves.

She’d done some dancing, so after a couple of missteps it wasn’t hard to catch on to what he was doing. Then, just when she’d mastered the first basic step, he brought out a new one, moving back and pulling her against him, reminding her of his muscle and male strength. All her female parts did a happy dance.

“Not bad,” he whispered and kissed her ear.

Not bad at all, she thought as he guided her backward again, weaving them through the swaying throng. No one else was doing a ballroom dance, but that didn’t faze him. Todd Black obviously liked to go his own way.

And he did it beautifully. With each step she was increasingly aware of his hand on the small of her back, the closeness of his body, the beat of the music like a shared heartbeat between them as they moved in unison. By the time the song was over, her whole body was humming.

And he was still holding her. “You’re good on the dance floor, Cecily Sterling,” he murmured. He nibbled her neck before turning her loose, and she wandered back to the table, feeling completely off-balance.

She was even more off-balance later that night when he took her to his house and proceeded to show her some more moves, this time on the couch. Her body was having so much fun, it refused to listen to her brain as Todd’s seduction special moved her down the track toward utter conquest. Finally, her sensible self pulled the brakes.

She squirmed away before every stitch of clothing she owned could go missing.

“Hey, now,” he murmured, “that’s not very friendly.”

“That’s about as friendly as I want to get until I’ve figured out what this is.” She still wasn’t sure if he was serious or simply looking for sex.

“How about instead of analyzing this to death, we enjoy the ride,” he said, closing the distance between them. He pushed aside her hair and nuzzled her neck.

She shut her eyes and went surfing on the next wave of pleasure. Mouth dry, she swallowed, then said, “We should talk about some things.”

“How about you talk and I listen,” he said, as his lips began moving south.

“How do you feel about kids?”

Todd’s journey stopped. “Kids?”

“Yes, kids.”

“They’re okay.” He tried to kiss her again.

“Spoken like a true family man,” she said. Men didn’t have biological clocks. Or if they did, theirs were set for a lot later in life.

He sat up and looked at her, his expression serious. “So, is this kid thing some kind of deal breaker?”

“Could be. I don’t want to wait forever to have a family, and I don’t want to bother with someone who isn’t ready for a commitment.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I wasn’t ready for a commitment,” he protested. “But usually you take this stuff in steps.”

“Okay, how about Step One—marriage?”

“I’m not against it. But I’m not in a hurry, either. There’s plenty of time to worry about that after we know where we’re going.”

“You seemed to have a good idea where you were going a minute ago,” she said.

That made him smile. “I sure did, and you didn’t seem to mind coming along for the ride.”

She pulled away again. “I don’t want to get taken for a ride,” she told him. “I’ve been there, done that, and it wasn’t fun.”

He sobered. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not out to hurt you, Cec. I know how that feels. But I also know what it’s like to grow up with your parents living in two different homes. I don’t want to rush into anything and wind up like my parents. All they did was fight, and it wasn’t fun for me or my brother when they finally split.”

“My parents loved each other,” she said softly. “It can be done.”

“I realize that,” he said with a nod. “Let’s just take this slow, okay?” he added and moved in for another kiss.

She stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Good idea.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean everything.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“But we’re done now, aren’t we?”

Not only good-looking, but smart, too. She smiled sweetly at him. “Yes, we are.”

Once Cecily was home and in bed she had a lot to think about. She was ready to be in a relationship with Todd, but was he ready to settle down? Would he ever be? She didn’t want to wait in limbo with no wedding ring in her future and no family. Todd seemed to be balking at both.

But she’d dumped a lot of heavy stuff on him way too early. She could hardly blame him for balking. He was right; they needed to take it slow.

And if he doesn’t want to take this where you do, what then?
asked her sensible self.
You know the signs. You’ve seen them before. The man is allergic to marriage.

Allergies can be treated,
she insisted.
He can change.

So can a poopy diaper, but who wants to?

Still, she and her hormones had taken a vote, and the decision had been unanimous in favor of Todd.

Her sensible self, who hadn’t been allowed a vote, now demanded,
What are you doing?

YOLO,
she told that pain-in-the-patootie sensible self.
You only live once, and I’m going to take a gamble on this man. I think it will pay off.

Okay, but don’t come crying to me when you have to deal with the fallout.

This time there’d be no fallout. She hoped.

* * *

Bailey had counted on not seeing Brandon. He was in town for only two days. A girl could avoid seeing anyone for two days, even in Icicle Falls.

Not when that girl worked at the Icicle Creek Lodge. She’d left work before the late Friday check-ins and Olivia had given her Saturday and Sunday off, so she came in on Monday hoping against hope that Brandon and the irresistible Arielle had checked out the day before. But, no, here they came just as she was settling in behind the reception desk, the woman carrying nothing but her purse while Brandon lugged a suitcase, a backpack and a shopping bag from Hearth and Home.

Bailey blinked in surprise as she took in the competition who’d walked away with
her
prize. The woman was blonde, and that was about all Bailey could say for her. Well, okay, she had big boobs, but heck, they didn’t look that much bigger than Bailey’s. She had a hooked nose, a sharp chin that made Bailey think of witches and a haughty smile. She knew how to dress; Bailey would give her that. Her blue sweater was cashmere, and she couldn’t have paid less than two hundred dollars for those jeans. Weren’t artists supposed to be poor and struggling?

“Bailey,” Brandon greeted her as he set the luggage down. “I’m glad we got a chance to see you.”

The irresistible Arielle raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Bails and I have known each other since we were kids,” Brandon explained and made the introductions.

Arielle was underwhelmed.

“Did you enjoy your visit?” Bailey asked, at a loss for anything else to say.

“It was okay,” Arielle said with a shrug.

Had she cast some sort of spell on Brandon? That was the only explanation Bailey could come up with for his fascination with her.

“The place grows on you,” Bailey said. Except she hoped it wouldn’t grow on this woman. She’d probably kill every flower in the window boxes on the downtown buildings with that vinegary frown of hers.

“I guess,” she said. She turned to Brandon, and the vinegar turned to sugar. “We should get going, babe.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said and picked up his load again.

“Nice to meet you, Bittie,” she said to Bailey and swept off.

“It’s Bailey,” Bailey called after her, but Arielle wasn’t paying any attention.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Brandon said to Bailey.

She was something else, all right.

Eric appeared at that moment, and the two men gave each other a bro hug, complete with slaps on the back.