Baby, Don't Go (12 page)

Alicia’s blood pressure ballooned. She would never put herself in a subservient role to a man.

Her lips tingled. No matter how good a kisser he was.

She slipped away from the gathering feeling sorry for the women of Sweetness. By coming here for the sole purpose of finding a mate, they’d given up any leverage they might’ve had in the relationship. They were repeating their mother’s mistakes, setting women back decades.

And she intended to expose their folly for the sake of women everywhere.

15

“M
issed you at the barbecue yesterday,” Porter said over his coffee cup.

“It was a nice turnout,” Kendall added.

Marcus dragged his gaze away from Alicia at the grill back to his brothers sitting opposite him at a table in the diner. “I went fishing.”

“Catch anything?” Porter asked.

“As a matter of fact, I caught a keeper.”

“You don’t say?” Porter asked, his mouth quirking. “Tasty, was it?”

Marcus frowned. “I tossed it back.”

“That’s not like you,” Kendall said, smothering a smile. “Did something more interesting come along?”

He worked his mouth side to side. “Are you two idgets getting at something?”

Porter shrugged. “We heard you, um,
fished
Alicia out of the creek.”

Marcus tamped down annoyance. “The woman fell in and she can’t swim. I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“And then you took her to Clover Ridge to recover,” Kendall added with an arched eyebrow.

He shifted in his seat—Christ, had she told them about the kiss, too? “She invited herself along.”

“Guess you didn’t have a choice there either,” Porter said, shooting a glance toward Alicia, dressed in a short flowered skirt, T-shirt and high-heeled sandals. “She seems like such a bully.”

“My impression exactly,” Kendall seconded, nodding.

Marcus bit down on his cheek. “Could we get back to our meeting?”

Porter sipped from his cup. “You’re the one who can’t stop looking at her, bro.”

“I’m just making sure she’s not setting another fire,” he muttered, then nodded toward Tony who was bussing a table nearby. “Especially since my nephew now works here.”

Kendall glanced at his preteen son, then back. “Speaking of which, from the way he keeps staring at Alicia, I think he’s developed a crush on her, too.”

“Too?” Marcus laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“He’s talking about every guy sitting at the counter,” Porter said, nodding to the crowded stools. Then he grinned. “And you.” Marcus harrumphed.

“We’re just giving you a hard time,” Kendall said. “I think it’s great if you enjoy her company.”

“I wouldn’t call it enjoyable,” he bit out.

Porter grinned. “Even better.”

He gave his little brother a lethal look. “How’s the church coming along?”

Porter’s smile vanished. “The sections should be delivered the day after tomorrow.”

“Have you decided when you’re going to propose to Nikki?” Kendall asked.

Porter glanced to the table across the room where Nikki and Amy were having breakfast. “Not yet,” Porter said in a clipped tone.

Marcus sighed. “Could we get through one conversation without talking about women?”

“Sorry,” Kendall offered, although he looked anything but.

“What about the minister who performed the Sunday service?” Marcus asked. “Is he interested in having his own church?”

“Yes,” Porter said.

“Well?”

His brothers exchanged a glance.

“What?” Marcus demanded.

“Michael Mason is a great guy,” Kendall said. “And he really connected with the residents.”

“But…he stutters,” Porter added.

Marcus lifted his hands. “Okay…a little unexpected, but what does that have to do with anything?”

Porter sighed. “We have to consider all of his duties as a minister. If you were getting married, would you want the person officiating to stutter through the ceremony?”

Marcus frowned. “Since I’m not planning to get married, it doesn’t matter to me one way or another.”

“Still, you can see the position it puts us in,” Kendall said. “Frankly, I suspect it’s why Mason doesn’t already have a church of his own.”

“It sounds as if neither party is in a position to be choosy,” Marcus said. “Give the man a contract and let’s move on.” He looked down at the list in front of him. “Where do we stand on getting an ambulance for the clinic?”

“We decided to strike it off the list,” Porter said.

Marcus looked up. “What?”

“Right,” Kendall added. “We’re just going to order a bunch of rolling desk chairs to have on hand for emergencies.”

His brothers collapsed in gales of laughter, high-fiving each other. A hot, angry flush worked its way up Marcus’s face. He set down his pen and folded his arms. “If you two have something more important to do, I’ll let you get to it.”

Kendall wiped his eyes. “Lighten up, Marcus.”

“Yeah,” Porter added. “We’re just having a little fun.”

Marcus felt his mouth quirk, then he conceded a wry smile. “Okay, okay, get it out of your systems.”

He drank from his coffee cup until his brothers recovered, sneaking glances toward the grill to make sure all was well.

So far, so good—the smoke alarm hadn’t sounded a single time since opening. Alicia seemed particularly focused this morning—on everything except him. Like Porter, he’d noticed the counter was especially crowded with workmen who seemed happy for a front row seat to watch Alicia navigate in her short skirt and high-heeled sandals and an apron that was, in his opinion, too tight for safety’s sake. What if it caught on fire, or she needed to make a sudden move? Yet she seemed oblivious to the dangers the constricting garment posed as she chatted with the men.

“Things seem to be running well around here,” Porter offered.

Marcus pulled his attention back to his brothers.

“The D.O.E. rep should give the diner high marks this time,” Kendall added.

“Let’s hope everything else holds up,” Marcus added, glad they were back to business. He brought up the subject of constructing a city hall building and endeavored to keep the conversation on track even if his mind wasn’t.

Yesterday on Clover Ridge he’d allowed Alicia to goad him into kissing her, and he’d paid for it all night, tossing and turning. This morning he’d removed her bracelet from under his mattress and shoved it in his pocket, determined to return it to her, hoping that ridding himself of it might rid him of constantly thinking about her.

“Don’t you agree, Marcus?”

He jerked his head up. “Say again?”

Porter quirked his mouth, then pushed back his chair. “Never mind—we’ll let you get back to work.”

Kendall stood and nodded to the papers they’d brought with them. “Yeah, Porter and I got this covered.”

Marcus frowned. “Wait. Where will you both be this afternoon?”

“On the church site,” Porter said, as if he were repeating himself.

“And I’m going to start surveying for a city hall building next to the bank,” Kendall said in a tone indicating he also was restating something he’d said moments earlier.

Marcus nodded. “Okay. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can get away from here.”

Porter glanced toward Alicia, then back. “Take your time, brother.”

Kendall grunted. “Yeah…take your time.”

Porter grinned. “And let us know if you need help downloading a special ringtone.”

Marcus scowled at both of them as they walked away, pleased with their silly selves.

Then he glanced toward the counter where Alicia was talking to Shawn Taylor, one of the more randy workers. And she was apparently unaware that when she bent over like that, she was giving the man an eyeful of her mouth-watering cleavage.

His frown deepened—or maybe she was fully aware.

Irritation brought him up out of his chair. He felt an obligation to his employees to protect them from the likes of Shawn Taylor. He walked over to the counter and took the order pad from her manicured hand.

“I’ll handle this one.” Just the brush of her soft fingers reminded him of the hold she’d had on his waist yesterday riding the four-wheeler. His body reacted to the sensory recall accordingly. He gritted his teeth as the memory of that heated kiss flooded back to him, flanked by the image of her topless, her skin shimmering with water droplets.

Marcus swallowed a curse. The woman was torturing him—he had to get out of here as soon as possible, back to a real day’s work to distract his frustrated body.

Alicia reached for her pad. “I was in the middle of taking Shawn’s order.”

He held it out of her reach. “Why don’t you give Gina a hand at the grill? I’ll take Shawn’s order. He’s in a hurry since he has to be on the job site in twenty minutes, right, Shawn?” He gave the man a pointed look and Shawn dipped his head.

“Right, boss.”

From the reluctant way Alicia turned away, he had a feeling she’d been enjoying the exchange. But surely one of the women would inform her that Shawn Taylor was a man to be avoided.

“What do you want to eat?” Marcus barked to pull Taylor’s gaze away from Alicia’s retreating backside. He picked up a pen and put it to the pad, then frowned.

Instead of food orders, the sheet of paper was covered with names and what looked like notes of some kind—
Susan Sosa, receptionist, sweet but desperate (relatable)… Traci Miles, hair stylist, hopeful but idealistic (makeover)… Rachel Hutchins, feminist beauty who wants kids (more here)…

Marcus turned his head to follow Alicia, inadvertently catching his own eyeful of her rear end. Marcus bit down on the inside of his cheek to steel his body’s response even as warning bells chimed in his head. What was this woman up to?

16

A
licia’s pulse jumped as she walked away from Marcus, but she tried to act cool. There wasn’t anything blatantly incriminating written on the notepad…was there? Just a few jotted thoughts here and there to jog her memory later when she blogged about her conversations with the women of Sweetness.

She chanced a glance back. He was staring at her with a quizzical expression. Darn those amazing blue eyes—it was as if the man had X-ray vision.

She offered him a carefree little smile, then turned to Gina at the grill, who was flustered, trying to flip fried eggs.

“Can I help?” Alicia asked.

Gina sighed. “I keep breaking the yokes. I told Marcus I’m no cook.”

“You’re doing fine,” Alicia soothed, noticing the way Gina kept looking over her shoulder to a certain table where a certain male customer sat alone, perusing the menu. “Friend of yours?” Alicia asked.

Gina blushed. “Scott Bloom. He asked me to keep score when he and another guy were playing horseshoes yesterday at the barbecue.”

Alicia schooled her face to hide her reaction to the dubious distinction. “Oh.”

Then Gina nodded toward another waitress. “But Teri flirted with him like crazy, brought him sweet tea refills while I was tied to the scorekeeper’s table. How could I compete with that?”

“Indeed,” Alicia said in what she hoped was a sympathetic tone. Annoyance skipped along her nerve endings at the realization that a woman had to go to elaborate lengths to get a man to notice her. Or in her case with Marcus Armstrong, to get a man to kiss her.

She darted a glance in his direction and wondered if he’d given that kiss a second thought since pulling his lips from hers. She was starting to regret mentioning it in the blog entry about “Matthew” she’d sent to Nina last night. It had seemed triumphant at the time, but now it felt…indiscreet.

Marcus lifted his head and caught her gaze and Alicia quickly looked away, tingling all over. “Why don’t you let me take over and you get back to the floor,” she suggested to Gina. “Marcus is finished with his meeting now, he’ll help with the grill.”

“Do you think he’s going to find a cook?”

Alicia turned an egg and winced as the yoke broke, sizzling into a crispy mess. “I hope so.”

Gina scooted away and Alicia sighed at the number of orders hanging from the exhaust hood. She’d much rather be talking to customers and getting more fodder for her blog.

“Sausages and fried eggs,” Marcus said near her ear, causing her to startle.

“Got it,” she murmured, her cheeks warming.

“You’re jumpy today,” he said mildly, as if he was fishing.

She shrugged, her gaze darting to her notepad he set on the counter. “Just frustrated with these eggs. Any luck finding a cook?”

“Still working on it.” Then he tapped the notebook. “What’s with all the notations on customers?”

She shrugged again, carefully. “Just my way of trying to remember everyone.”

His eyes narrowed. “It seemed more personal than that.”

“Not at all,” she said in a breezy tone. “I thought it would be good for business since I’m an outsider.” Then she picked up the notebook and slid it in her apron pocket. But she didn’t like the way he was looking at her, as if he didn’t trust her. Well, he
couldn’t
trust her. But he didn’t know that.

And she didn’t feel guilty because she suspected Marcus Armstrong didn’t trust anyone. The way he watched her like a hawk, she’d never get the chance to talk to customers and ferret out stories for her blog. Never mind that the way he watched her messed with her concentration. She had to get rid of him for a while for her own self-preservation.

“Look, boss—I’m sure you have other things to do. You hired me as manager, so let me manage. Things here are under control.” Then she wet her lips and leaned in close. “Unless you just
want
to stay?”

He stared at her mouth—was he thinking about their kiss?—then pulled his head back. “That’s not it at all.” He frowned. “And don’t call me boss.”

She batted her lashes. “Sorry.”

Which only seemed to irritate him more. “All right, I’ll leave you in charge, but only if you promise to stay away from the grill.” He flagged down Sheila, then removed the spatula in Alicia’s hand and handed it to the waitress. “There…now I won’t have to worry about the place going up in flames while I’m gone.”

“But I’m not a very good cook,” Sheila protested.

“Alicia can tell you what to do,” he said with a wry smile, “as long as she doesn’t stand too close.” And then either consciously or subconsciously, he took a step back.

Anger sparked in Alicia’s stomach at his patronizing behavior, but more than anything she wanted him to be gone so she could talk to customers more freely and show the man that a woman could run this place. So she pasted on a smile and said, “You can go…we’ll be fine without you.”

Marcus frowned again, then he pulled out a ring of keys and handed them to her. “Okay, you can lock up.” Then he inclined his head and turned to stride out of the diner, settling a frown on Shawn Taylor and tapping his watch as he walked by.

When the door closed behind him, Alicia fought a nagging sense of emptiness—the bustling little diner was suddenly a less appealing place to spend the day. She pushed aside the disconcerting tug and reminded herself why she was there. With Sheila working diligently—if not confidently—at the grill, Alicia floated around the diner doing whatever she could to help the waitresses and busboys.

Kendall’s son Tony seemed especially eager to please on his first day. She stopped by Nikki and Amy’s table to brag about Amy’s son, then moved on to others, striking up conversations with women who revealed they were in the original group who’d arrived from Broadway in search of a new start and, yes—a man.

Poor Susan Sosa was once again seated alone, casting longing glances toward a man Alicia confirmed was the woman’s beloved Kenny…a guy who seemed completely oblivious to her presence.

Alicia felt a pang for the woman’s desperation. How horrible to be in a position to so want a man’s affection. Alicia was glad she’d never bought into the idea of having to have a man in her life in order to be happy.

On her waist her cell phone vibrated. She glanced at it in case it was Nina calling and was surprised to see her father’s name appear on the screen. She smirked at the timing—speaking of not having a man in her life. But since Robert so rarely called her, she was immediately concerned. After glancing around the diner to make sure everything was running smoothly—and gloating a bit because it was—she stepped into the kitchen to take the call privately.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Good to hear your voice, sweetheart.”

She gripped the phone tighter. “Is something wrong?”

“Can’t a father call his daughter just to say hello?”

“Of course,” she said on an exhale.

“You sound like you’re in a cave.”

She looked around the industrial kitchen. “Actually, I’m on assignment. I can’t talk long.”

“Ah—undercover again? I hope it’s not something dangerous.”

Inexplicably, Marcus’s kiss came to mind. “No…not so far.”

“Where are you?”

“In a little town in the North Georgia mountains.”

Her father laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No,” she said, then wet her lips. “Actually, I’m not too far from Mom.”

A scoffing noise came over the line. “I heard she was in Atlanta shacking up with a youngster.”

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” she asked mildly. “How
is
Miranda?”

“Energetic,” he said with a sigh that sounded more sad than satisfied. “What are you doing in the North Georgia mountains?”

“I’m running a diner.”

He laughed. “Now I know you’re kidding—who’d let you near a hot stove? Oh—” He caught himself. “I guess if you’re undercover, no one knows you’re a firestarter?”

She frowned. “For your information, everything is running very smoothly.”

Alicia heard a noise behind her. She turned to see Tony Armstrong standing there, his eyes wide.

She covered the mouthpiece on her phone. “Do you need something, Tony?”

He jerked his thumb toward the dining room. “You’d better come. I think they’re going to fight.”

She frowned, then uncovered the mouthpiece. “Dad, I have to go. I’ll call you soon.” After stowing the phone, she followed Tony in the direction of the raised voices.

Female voices.

Two of the waitresses, Gina and Teri, seemed to be in some kind of disagreement.

“I’ll take Scott’s order,” Terri said, elbowing Gina out of the way.

“No,
I’ll
take Scott’s order,” Gina said, applying her own elbow.

Scott sat at a table between the women looking like an unwitting bone, while the crowd around them craned for a better look. Alicia hurried over and positioned herself between the two women, offering a smile.

“Ladies, there’s no need to argue— Ow!”

A shoving match ensued, with Alicia caught in the middle. One of the women pushed her out of the way. She slipped on a French fry and went down, her cheek glancing off a chair. Pain lit up her face as she sprawled on the floor.

Everything went quiet as both waitresses gasped, then bent over to help Alicia in such haste, they banged heads—hard. They each staggered backward and went down. Then Tony’s face appeared over Alicia’s.

“Are you okay, Miss Alicia?”

She nodded and extended her hand when he reached out to help her up, but suddenly Shawn Taylor, her customer from the counter, was there.

“I got this,” he told Tony, and the boy deferred to the man’s considerable bulk.

Alicia allowed him to help her into a chair. He thumbed the tender skin of her cheek and winked. “Gonna have a shiner later.”

She grimaced. “Great.”

Nikki appeared and leaned down to scrutinize Alicia’s face. “Do you have a headache?”

“No.”

“Blurriness of vision?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Alicia pushed to her feet, uncomfortable with the attention, especially from Shawn Taylor, whose body language seemed suddenly proprietary.

Nikki nodded. “Stop by the clinic later if you need something for swelling or pain.” Then she turned to tend to the waitresses being helped to their feet by the man they’d been arguing over.

“Look what you’ve done!” Gina said to Teri, her eyes flashing as she rubbed the goose egg on her forehead.

“Me?” Teri shrieked. “You were the one who started it!”

“Silence, ladies,” Alicia said, her voice lethal. This time they listened. She had every right to fire them, but she was uneasy about the fact that she was only posing as their boss, that she’d be leaving soon, and she didn’t want to do something that would affect them after she was gone. Aware of their audience, she leaned in and whispered, “Both of you, take a break to cool off, then get back to work.”

The women slunk off, eyeing each other angrily. Alicia had a feeling there would be more drama to come.

And her first day alone as manager went downhill from there.

If trays of spilled food, a broken dishwasher and running out of hamburger wasn’t bad enough, in the peak of the afternoon heat, the air conditioner went out. With each crisis, someone offered to get Marcus, but Alicia resisted, handling things her own way even as her frustration mounted. By the time she turned the closed sign and walked to her room, she was exhausted, but she made herself write a blog entry before she took a shower.

Nina was calling before she toweled off.

“You were really caught in the middle of a cat fight?”

Alicia surveyed her bruised face in the mirror. “Shall I send a picture of my black eye?”

“Absolutely! This is a good storyline—readers will come back to see which woman gets her man.”

Alicia frowned. “The point is how unhealthy this atmosphere is for women—every woman here feels like she
has
to have a man.”

“Oh?” Nina asked. “And is it rubbing off?”

Alicia’s pulse quickened. “Of course not.”

“Not even after kissing Marcus, or as you refer to him in your blog, Matthew?”

Alicia scoffed. “That was just for the sake of the story.”

“Too bad, because the people at the syndicate are really liking the blog entries about the interplay between the two of you—they’re ready to negotiate.”

Alicia’s face split into a grin. “That’s great news!”

“Yes,” Nina agreed. “Consider yourself officially on assignment. Stay as long as you need to finish a few story arcs.”

Alicia worked her mouth back and forth. “Well, I guess if this editor likes the false chemistry I’ve created between me and Marcus so much, I
could
keep working that thread.”

“You could,” Nina agreed. “The reason you’re at this level, Alicia, is because you understand the importance of sacrifice. Keep those blog entries coming.”

Alicia disconnected the call and rummaged for clean clothes in her borrowed wardrobe. Her stomach churned with excitement—
not
at the prospect of staying longer in Sweetness, of course, but at the prospect of having a nationally syndicated blog.

With a national web presence, she’d be able to reach a larger audience and warn exponentially more women about matchmaking towns like Sweetness, Georgia, run by chauvinists like Marcus Armstrong.

He needed to be brought down a notch.

In fact, she practically had a
duty
to sleep with the man.

But even as her chest thrummed with the thrill of the challenge, she worried her lower lip. She’d essentially had to double-dog-dare the stubborn man to kiss her.

How would she ever get him into bed?