Chance of a Lifetime (17 page)

Only, for Tannon, it wasn’t a game, and if he had anything to do with it, it wouldn’t be the last time he kissed the librarian.

His phone chimed.
I’m glad,
was her simple response.

He thought about it a while, then texted back,
I wish I were back in Harmony. What do you have for supper?

The chime came back fast.
Nothing. You’re too late. I ate it all.

How about Wednesday night?

Spaghetti,
she answered back.

Mind if I drop by?

He waited, wondering how long it would take for her to type a yes or no. Finally the phone chimed.

No. I don’t mind. I’ll make enough for two.

Tannon relaxed back against the mountain of pillows hotels feel obliged to provide. If he’d been a betting man, he would have laid odds that she wouldn’t want to see him again. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she just felt sorry for him with his mother in the hospital. Or maybe she wanted to tell him off in person. Kissing her had been a dumb idea.

I’ll be there at 7. I’ll bring a couple of desserts and let you pick.

He waited, but there was no answer. She’d probably gone to bed. Closing his eyes, he remembered her in her funny fluffy robe with her bare feet peeking out and her damp hair curling along her cheek and throat.

His last thought before he fell asleep was that he wished he were back in her crowded little apartment. Everything in the place seemed a part of her. If she’d only let him show up now and then, that would probably be all either one of them could handle.

“Good night, Emily,” he whispered as he drifted off.

F
EBRUARY 14

B
EAU WOKE UP ON
T
UESDAY MORNING DETERMINED TO
accomplish at least a few things on his list. He showered, dressed in clean clothes, then pulled the money from inside the lining of his shaving kit and headed out toward the bank. There was no need to take his car; the bank wasn’t more than a few blocks away.

He made it to the front porch of the duplex before he lost his nerve. He’d never been in the Harmony State Bank. Not once. He wasn’t even sure what to do. Maybe he would be wise to wait until Border was up and willing to go with him, but his partner probably didn’t know any more about banking than he did. Big might know, being older, but Beau didn’t want to ask him. Big had done so much for him, most without even knowing it.

“Morning, Beau.” Ronny startled him as she stepped from her side of the duplex.

“Morning,” he managed. “Where you headed so early?”
He didn’t really care where his next-door neighbor was going, but he had to say something.

She laughed. “You’re never up this early so I guess you wouldn’t know, but every morning I walk down to the Blue Moon Diner for coffee. I could make it here, but I like the routine of having coffee at the diner before heading into work.”

“Mind if I walk along? I’m headed to the bank.”

She laughed again, that sweet laugh that always made him smile. “Of course, but you might as well have coffee too. The bank doesn’t open for an hour.”

They walked along talking. Ronny wasn’t old enough to be his mother, but that didn’t stop her from mothering him. By the time they got to the diner, he’d asked enough questions that she was rattling on in detail about how to open a savings account.

To his surprise, Ronny picked a long table that would hold eight and took a seat.

Just after they ordered breakfast, two firemen came in and took a seat at Ronny and Beau’s table without asking. At first he thought they might be flirting with Ronny, but pretty quickly Beau decided they were just friends of hers. She was a nice-looking woman, but from what he could see, she gave off no signals saying she was looking for a man.

By the time the food came, the table was crowded with single people, most in their late twenties and early thirties. They all seemed to be great friends. None were faces he recognized from the bar. These were the morning people, he thought, the kind he’d see rarely in his life, he figured. In an odd way, he’d stepped into another civilization.

Beau was thankful that no one insisted he join the conversation as it gave him time to quietly study the group of friends. Friendly, he assessed, but not as loud as the bar crowd. More polite to the waitress, less flirty. No profanity. No sexual comments. No off-colored jokes. They talked of what was happening in town and the weather.

Beau decided that if someone hadn’t found a mate by thirty they all went back to being just friends. He was glad
when Ronny stood and motioned that it was time to go. The group was nice, but they would never be his people. His people thrived in smoky air and bourbon breezes.

They paid out and she pointed him toward the bank. As he walked away from her, he smiled to himself. He’d always thought she was a lonely person, but Ronny had her share of morning friends. Too bad she didn’t have a nighttime lover. Border swore she had once but Beau found that hard to believe.

Opening an account proved easier than he thought it might have been. Within ten minutes, his money was in the bank and he’d been given a card so if he ever needed cash he could just walk up to the ATM and pull money out.

As he was walking through the lobby, he thought he saw a blond ponytail. He could only see the back of a girl dressed in a western shirt, but the hair was the same as his dream girl’s.

Beau dodged through the bank, but by the time he made it out the door she was gone. He spent a half hour walking the streets of Old Main, but he found nothing. No girl. No Mustang. Feeling like a fool for aching for someone he’d only known for a few hours, he walked back toward his duplex. Border would still be asleep, which meant that Beau couldn’t play his music or even the TV, so he decided to stop off at the library and read for a while. The little librarian had introduced him to a collection of books about famous musicians.

“Morning, Miss Tomlinson,” he said as he pulled off his hat and smiled at her. He’d always thought she had a quiet kind of beauty. Her curly brown hair that never stayed tied back made her look younger, but her clothes made her seem older.

“Morning, Beau. How’s the career in music going? I promise one day I’ll come see you.”

“It’s going great.” He held out little hope that she’d come. Librarians and bars didn’t seem to mix.

“I saved a few books that were donated for the book sale. I thought you might like to have them. One is called
San Antonio Rose
and the other is about the history of country-western music.”

“I’d like that.” He waited until she disappeared in her office and returned with the books.

She handed him several more than two books. “You might want to look through these as well. You’re welcome to them if they interest you.”

“How much do I owe you?”

She grinned. “An hour of volunteering at the book sale. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough.”

He took the haul and looked around for a table where he could sit. The place was in shadow for a moment while his eyes adjusted, and then he saw her. The blonde with the ponytail. She was sitting in the center of the room absorbed in reading a book. A legal pad and several pencils were scattered in front of her.

“Miss Tomlinson, do you know who that girl over there is?”

“No, Beau,” the librarian answered without looking up from her work.

“You do see her, don’t you?” He had to ask. She couldn’t just be something he’d needed so badly that he’d dreamed up her and the old classic car.

“Of course. She comes in here now and then to study, but as far as I know she’s never applied for a card.”

Beau walked over and sat down next to her as if it were the only seat open in the place.

For a while, she ignored him, but then she accidentally bumped his leg with her knee.

When she did it for the third time, he laughed out loud.

The girl glanced at him and winked. Beau swore his heart stopped. She was even prettier than he remembered.

Her knee slid along his leg as she whispered, “I have to study now, but can I meet you tonight if you have the time.”

He didn’t trust himself to say a word, so he just nodded.

“Where?”

He tugged the pen from her hand and jotted his address down on her paper.

“What time?” she whispered.

Anytime after dark
, he wrote back. Then, before he did something crazy, he got up and walked out of the library.

The day seemed endless. Finally, Border started watching some movie on the old TV his brother had left and Beau moved to the porch despite the cold. He’d been playing for a while before the Ford convertible pulled up in front of the duplex.

He set the guitar down and walked out to the car. She moved over and he slid behind the wheel. Without a word, they headed for moonlight. He was in heaven again and he didn’t care how or why it was happening.

He drove out beyond the lights of town or any farmhouse and stopped the car. Without hesitation, he pulled her close and kissed her full-out. She pulled the leather strap that held his hair back and dug her fingers in as if she were starving for the feel of his hair.

This was no first kiss of two kids just learning. This was full-grown passion and they both knew it. He’d been thinking about her all day. Thinking what he’d say and how he’d act, but now she was in his arms and he couldn’t seem to think at all. As she opened her mouth to his kiss, he moved his hand inside her coat and covered her warm breast with his cold fingers. The feel of how perfectly his hand covered her made him light-headed.

She leaned back laughing softly as he took his time feeling of her small breast before kissing her again. She smelled of Ivory soap and starch, all fresh and clean, and she tasted of heaven. The air was near freezing around them, but all Beau felt was her against him.

He wasn’t sure what would have happened next if a car hadn’t blinked in the distance. By the time it neared, she’d moved back to the passenger’s side of the car and he’d started driving again. After the car passed, he wasn’t sure what to do so he just drove with the heater and the radio
turned to full blast. She didn’t move back over to his side and he wondered if he hadn’t gone too far. She probably thought he was some kind of animal. After all, they knew next to nothing about each other.

Finally, he turned around and headed back to Harmony. When he parked in front of the duplex, he turned off the car and faced her. “W-what’s your name?”

“My daddy calls me Trouble.” She laughed. “What do you think?”

Closing his eyes, Beau thought about his dream of making it big in the music world. Out on that back road, he’d almost given it all up for a girl he didn’t even know. Maybe she’d have been worth it, maybe not. “Trouble fits,” he whispered.

He opened and closed his hand atop the steering wheel. Even now he wanted to touch her. No, he wanted more. The longing to feel her move under him was driving him mad. And what did he know about her? She had a daddy. She had money. The Ford was a cream restoration. She lived around here somewhere. That’s it.

“You feel it too,” she whispered. “That pull. That need. Like we’re addicts within reach of a drug whenever we’re near each other.”

“Y-yeah,” he answered without looking at her. “I-I felt it the m-moment I-I saw you.” No memory would ever be so pure in his brain.

“All I know about you is you play and sing beautifully, and you stutter. The stuttering doesn’t bother me, by the way. Doesn’t dilute the attraction.”

She took a deep breath. “How about we just take a drive now and then? No touching. Not even any talking if you like. Just driving for a while, until we get used to each other. Right now I feel like if we get too close for too long we might both spontaneously combust.”

“I-I don’t know if I’d care but y-you’re p-probably right.” He stepped out of the car. “I-I’m at the bar Saturday night.”

“I know. Look for me when you walk out. If I’m there, I’m there.”

He watched her until the taillights of the old Ford vanished, then turned and headed toward the duplex. On the porch, the guitar stopped him and he found himself picking out a haunting tune. For once, the words didn’t come, only the music danced in his head. Finally, he grinned thinking he knew one more thing about her. She had more sense than he did. She’d stopped.

As always, he reached into his music for comfort. The beat pounded against his heart making him not feel so lonely. He played letting the melody drift out over the wind and blend with the sound of the evening train rolling through Harmony and the hoot of a night owl in the hundred-year-old elm. All the sounds around him, all the feelings, all the words he’d never be brave enough to say moved with his fingers across the strings of his music and he knew with no doubt that a part of him would love Trouble for the rest of his life.