Where She Belongs (6 page)

A
s Shelby entered the B and B, eager to get to her room, owner Martha D'Arcy appeared in the foyer carrying an enormous bouquet of yellow roses in a slender crystal vase. “These are for you, Mrs. Kincaid,” she gushed. “Aren't they lovely?”

Breathtakingly so.

Shelby cradled the vase and inhaled the sweet fragrance. “Who sent them?”

“Can't say that I know, but there's a card tucked among the greenery.”

“So there is. Thank you.” Probably Richard had sent the bouquet. No one else would send her flowers.

Mrs. D'Arcy gave Shelby the once-over. “Looks like you've had a busy day. Painting, huh?”

“I got the primer coat on one room.”

“I don't envy you the job. My husband and I did most of the work on this place. Never again. 'Course, we're not as young as we once were.”

“Guess I better get cleaned up.” Shelby fished her room key from her bag as she headed for the stairs. “Thanks again.”

Inside her room, tastefully furnished in a blue and white Victorian motif, she set the vase on a bedside table and opened the card.

Hope this makes up for breaking our “not-a-date.” My time hasn't been my own today, but I promise we'll get together before you leave. Brett

She smiled and read the note again. Her tired achiness seemed to disappear as she breathed in the aroma of the roses. It'd been a long time since anyone had given her flowers. Except at Gary's funeral, but that wasn't the same.

She popped into the shower, emerging twenty minutes later refreshed by the steamy water.

And hungry.

The Dixie Diner, the town's greasy spoon and only a short walk away, would have to do for tonight. She tucked her e-reader into her purse, slipped on flip-flops, and headed downstairs.

As she crossed the B and B's parking lot, a hunter-green Jeep Cherokee pulled up beside her. The driver, wearing an OSU ball cap, leaned out the window.

“May I give you a ride?”

Of all people.

“What are you doing here?”

AJ shrugged. “Thought you might want to treat me to supper.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“It's your turn.”

She almost smiled. Almost. But his expression told her she hadn't hid her amusement soon enough.

“I'm mad at you.” She meant to sound mad, but somehow the words came out pouty, almost flirtatious.

“What did I do now?” His tone made it clear he wasn't taking her supposed anger very seriously.

“The gravel.”

“Oh.” He drew out the syllable and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I told you not to.”

His eyes, dark pools beneath the bill of his cap, looked mischievously into hers. “But I bet you're glad I did.”

He had her there. Maneuvering around the ruts had
not
been fun.

“Are you getting in?”

Gracious, the man was persistent. She pointed at the Dixie Diner's neon sign. “I'm only going over there.”

“Have it your way.” He eased onto the main street, then pulled into the restaurant's lot.

By the time Shelby had reached the diner, he had parked and was waiting for her at the front door.

“You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?”

“I'm just a hungry guy looking for a bite to eat.” He opened the door and followed her inside.

The place hadn't changed much in the years Shelby had been away. A Formica counter and round stools stretched along one wall. Back-to-back booths, covered in red vinyl, lined the windows. A teenaged girl in khakis and a red shirt pulled two menus from a nearby stack.

“Hi, Coach.” She looked with curiosity at Shelby. “Table for two?”

“What do you say?” AJ nudged Shelby with his elbow. “You aren't going to make me eat alone, are you?”

“I should. But you look so pitiful.”

“You really do, Coach.”

“Just take us to a table, Jillian.”

The teen giggled. “This way.”

“Are you ready for exams?” AJ asked as he settled on the bench seat. After removing his cap, he ran his fingers through his short hair.

“I hope so.”

“You'll do fine.” He turned to Shelby. “Jillian earned a full-ride scholarship to Dartmouth.”

“That's impressive.” She smiled at the teen. “Have you selected a major?”

“I've been accepted into the honors history program.”

“Wow! Congratulations.”

“I owe it all to Mr. Sullivan. He wrote the most amazing recommendation letter.”

AJ spread his hands. “I only told the truth. You're the one who did all the hard work.”

Jillian beamed, then left to welcome a family entering the diner.

“She seems like a sweet girl.”

“She is. Hardworking too.” He opened the menu. “Any idea what you're getting?”

“The only thing one should ever get at the Dixie Diner.”

Their eyes met as they simultaneously recited, “The Dixie Deluxe.”

Shelby laughed. “Are they still the best burgers in town?”

“Even better.”

AJ ordered the signature cheeseburger with fries and chocolate milkshakes for both of them. The place was surprisingly busy for a Monday evening, and AJ seemed to know practically everybody who walked in the door.

“One of the perks of teaching,” he said with a characteristic shrug.

Shelby gave up on keeping names straight with faces as AJ introduced her to the other diners who stopped by their booth. Not surprisingly, a few of the older folks knew her grandparents and were interested in Shelby's restoration of the old homestead.

She could splurge for granite counters in the kitchen if she had a dollar for every time one of them said something about how AJ's grandfather must be spinning in his grave. AJ seemed bothered by the comments too. Though he responded with good humor, the light in his eyes dimmed a little each time.

Funny, Nate Jeffers had said something similar that first day at the house. Come to think of it, so had Paul Norris.

When she was a teen, Anderson “Sully” Sullivan had been the scapegoat for all her rage. As the years passed, that rage simmered
into bitter enmity for the faceless monster who had driven her beloved grandparents to their deaths.

That same monster had punished AJ from beyond the grave by leaving his grandson a property he considered worthless. Simply because AJ chose to teach high school students—apparently very well—instead of practicing law. How cruel.

When the waitress brought the check, AJ picked it up, but she quickly pulled it from his fingers.

“My turn, remember?”

“Come on, I was teasing about that.”

“I insist.” She dug out her credit card. “I also insist on paying you for the gravel.”

“There's no need.”

“You won't win this one, so don't even try.”

“It was a gift.”

“One I can't accept. How much was it?”

“You're not going to change your mind, are you?”

“Nope.”

He leaned forward, arms crossed on the table. “How about I ask you to do something else instead?”

“Like what?”

He lowered his voice. “Figure out a way to give it to Jillian.”

“The hostess?”

“She's a great student, but things have been hard for her family the past couple of years. The scholarship is a big help, but you know how it is. There are other expenses that won't be covered.”

Shelby leaned forward too, leveling her voice to his. “You could have just given her the money in the first place rather than using it to buy gravel for my drive. I wish you had.”

“I bought the gravel as a kind of, I don't know, peace offering.” His mouth twitched, deepening the adorable Cary Grant cleft in his chin. “Her parents won't take charity. Besides, it's hard for me to do something for one student if I can't do it for all of them.”

“I'm glad to help, but I don't know why they'd take money from me if they won't take it from you. I'm a total stranger.”

“You're probably right. I'd just like to find a way to make things easier for her.”

Throughout the conversation, their whispers had drawn them close enough for her to see the dark ring around his brown irises. His aftershave teased her nostrils, and without realizing it, she leaned closer.

His eyes widened, and she sat back as heat warmed her cheeks. Whatever had just happened shouldn't have. But she wasn't sure what had.

Mindlessly stirring her milkshake with her straw, she took a deep breath. “I'll try to think of something.”

“Thank you, Shelby.” He drummed a fast rhythm on the table. “This has been a fun evening.”

“For me too.” Surprisingly, she meant it.

Outside the diner, the evening's first stars glimmered in the darkening sky. AJ settled his cap on his head. “How about I walk you home?”

“You mean over to the B and B?” Shelby pointed to the looming house. Electric lanterns shone white ambient light along the eaves of the wraparound veranda. “That's really not necessary.”

He patted his stomach. “It'll give me a chance to walk off that cheeseburger.”

“Oh yeah, a one-minute walk is quite the workout,” she teased.

“Two minutes. I'll have to come back for my Jeep.”

She shook her head and headed for the sidewalk. He hesitated half a second then caught up with her. After all, she hadn't said no. A nearby street lamp came on, casting a soft glow on the golden highlights in Shelby's hair as they passed under it.

When they climbed the steps, Mrs. D'Arcy greeted them. Rocking in a white wicker chair, she held up a glass of iced tea as if to make a toast. “So you were the one,” she said to AJ.

“The one what?” Placing his palm on his chest, he glanced from Mrs. D'Arcy to Shelby and back again. “What did I do?”

Mrs. D'Arcy gave him a knowing look. “Sent that enormous bouquet of yellow roses to our Ms. Kincaid, of course. I wish you could have seen her face. She was impressed.”

“Oh no, the flowers weren't from him.” Pink spotted Shelby's cheeks. “AJ and I are just . . .”

Friends
. With a sinking heart, he waited for her to say the inevitable, but she appeared to choke.

Taking a breath, she shrugged. “We're just acquaintances.”

Even worse.

AJ's heart plummeted. He didn't know what he had expected. Until this moment, he hadn't realized he expected—or wanted—anything. True, thoughts of Shelby seemed to pop into his head too often, but that was only because of the work being done on the house.

“I should go,” he said. “Thanks again for dinner, Shelby. I had a nice time.”

“So did I.”

“You don't need to sound so surprised.” The words came out more gruffly than he intended. He jutted his chin as Shelby's eyes widened, then grew cold. The easygoing atmosphere between them now seemed charged with uncertainty. An enjoyable evening sabotaged by a bunch of roses.

He needed to get out of there.

“Good night, ladies.” He bounded down the broad steps and jaywalked across the street. After getting in his Jeep, he drove slowly past the B and B. Shelby stood on the porch, staring at him. He waved. She slowly raised her hand, but she didn't smile.

It was just as well. Especially since she apparently had a boyfriend. Somebody in Chicago, probably, though it seemed strange she never mentioned being involved with anyone. Stranger still that she was so gung ho to make this major move if she was in a relationship.

Though how serious could she be about someone when a wedding band still adorned her finger?

His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the display before pressing the answer button.

“Hi, Gran.”

“It's Candace.” His grandmother's live-in nurse had called from the landline. “I think you better come.”

AJ leaned against the highboy dresser near Gran's bed and tracked the uneven rise and fall of her chest beneath the multicolored quilt. He had stood vigil through two grueling nights and into this afternoon, only eating when Candace insisted.