Live and Let Love (4 page)

She had to force herself not to gape and stare. Although she supposed he was probably
used to women watching him with their tongues hanging out.

She wiped her hands on her apron almost mechanically and floated to the counter, hardly
aware of how she’d gotten there. “You’re looking for Salemo’s? You must be Aldo’s
cousin.”

Who knew a Salemo relation could be God’s gift to women? Short, stocky Aldo, with
his cook’s belly and love of fine food, had never thought to warn them. He’d certainly
told them enough stories about others of his cousins, like hairy-backed Ilari, nicknamed
Gorilla for obvious reasons. Those stories hadn’t exactly inspired her to hope one
of Aldo’s male kin would render her, or anyone else, weak in the knees.

The man before her nodded, still smiling and holding her gaze. “Con Russo. Aldo’s
embarrassed, directionally challenged cousin.”

She laughed to cover her sudden case of nerves around him. “Don’t beat yourself up.
People get lost on the orchard roads all the time.” She extended her hand. “Aldo warned
us to be on the lookout for you. I’m Willow Pierce. And this is my assistant, Shiloh.”

When he shook Willow’s hand, hers disappeared into his large, square, warm one. He
held hers firmly, confidently, almost as if he wouldn’t let her go—reminiscent of
the way Jack used to.

Perversely, though she enjoyed the feeling of her hand in his way more than she should
have, the hair on her neck refused to lie down and behave itself. What in the world
was going on with her? She had Jack on the brain today. Hardly surprising, but …

This was crazy. Just the day and the season talking. And a single woman’s reaction
to a man with fantastic dark hair and Jack’s laugh and eyes.

He broke the connection too soon, dropping her hand to shake Shiloh’s with the same
firm grip and flirtatious smile he’d given Willow. Shiloh smiled back at him like
a girl dazed by a movie star. The man knew his effect on women and wasn’t afraid to
use it, that’s for sure.

Willow cleared her throat and Con dropped Shiloh’s hand. “You almost made it to Aldo’s.
He’s our neighbor. For some reason, GPS can’t seem to direct people all the way to
his driveway. It likes to drop people in the middle of the road at the edge of his
property and give up.”

She pointed out the window. “Go back down our driveway. Take a right at the bottom.
Drive about half a mile and take the first driveway on your left. You’ll know you’re
in the right place when you see grapevines and tall metal roosters.”

“Roosters?” He sounded almost disturbed by the word.

She nodded, not knowing what someone could have against roosters. “Aldo loves them.”

“Ah.” He still didn’t look happy about the roosters.

“You don’t like roosters?”

“Not generally.” He winked at her. “They like to crow too much for my tastes.”

She laughed. “Yeah, they do that.”

There was an awkward silence while they stared at each other. Finally, he tapped the
glass on the candy counter. “It smells fantastic in here. And these look delicious.”

“I just made a batch of caramel sauce. It perfumes the air even better than baking
bread.” She couldn’t look away from him.

Con studied the candy in the case between them.

“Would you like to try one?” She couldn’t believe she sounded so eager. “We’re generous
with our samples.”

He hesitated.

“Seriously,” she said. “Have one. I insist. You should have some sustenance in you
in case you get lost again.”

He laughed again, Jack’s laugh, and her heart stood still.

“In that case, I’ll have one of those.” He pointed to his choice. “One of the dark-chocolate
ones with the salt on top.”

When she saw which one he wanted, her knees nearly buckled. “The Lucky Jack?” It took
her a second to find her voice and composure. This man who reminded of her of Jack
also liked what he’d liked.

This is just a simple coincidence. Lots of people like dark chocolate and salt. It’s
not a big deal.

She took a deep breath and kept on smiling. “Good choice. Lucky Jacks are one of our
most popular candies.” Her eyes misted just a bit before she pushed thoughts of Jack
aside.

“I named them for my late husband. They were his favorite.” As she grabbed a tissue
and plucked a caramel from the case she thought she could have bitten her tongue.
It probably sounded as if she was making sure he knew she was single. Which hadn’t
been her intention at all. Or had it?

As she handed him the piece of candy their fingers brushed and she felt that shimmy
of pleasure at his touch again. She could have sworn the brush was intentional. She
suddenly wished she’d fixed up more and that her hair wasn’t up in the tight ponytail
she wore it in while working in the kitchen.

As he tasted her wares she watched, feeling like a child waiting for approval.

His eyes rolled upward and he sighed. “Delicious.”

His accent was truly scrumptious.

“Flatterer,” she said, just the way she’d have said it to Jack.

Con shook his head. “Would I lie?” He winked at Shiloh. “My cousin is having a big
dinner at his place tonight, some kind of apple growers’ party. Will you two be there?”

“We will,” Willow answered before Shiloh could chime in. Almost instantly Willow regretted
she’d be there with Shane.

“Good. I’ll see you this evening then. Thanks for the directions.” He nodded and turned
to leave.

“Wait!” Willow reached into the candy case and put a half-dozen Lucky Jacks into a
small white paper sack for him. “On me.” She held them out to him. “A welcome gift.”

He looked touched as he took them. “Thanks.” And then he left.

She and Shiloh ogled him as he walked out of the shop. Willow had to remind herself
to keep her tongue in her mouth. It wasn’t because Con was handsome that he enthralled
her. Or not
just
that, anyway.

He reminded her so much of Jack. It was almost eerie. And didn’t make any sense. He
even walked with a confident stride like Jack’s.

The door closed behind him.

“I think that guy’s my new old-man crush.” Shiloh turned to Willow. “Did you notice
the way he was dressed? Like he just stepped out of a fashion shoot.” Shiloh sighed
dramatically, teasingly. “His sweater looked so soft I wanted to reach out and touch
it. And him. He looked hard and yummy beneath it.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Willow said. “But believe me, he is
not
an old man.”

He was most definitely in his prime.

Willow walked around the counter to the door and watched him get into his car and
disappear down her long driveway. When he was out of sight she stepped onto the patio,
listening to the dry cornstalks rustle in the breeze.

She hadn’t felt a buzz of attraction like this for a man since Jack died. And she
didn’t understand it, felt almost treasonous for feeling it today of all days. Was
she reacting to Con Russo only because he had something of Jack’s spark?

As she turned to go back into the shop, Aldo’s black cat crossed her path. Now there
was an omen she didn’t need.

CHAPTER THREE

Willow walked back into the shop, only peripherally aware of Shiloh watching her with
an expression of curiosity. She couldn’t stop staring at the door. Jack was dead.
No matter how much she wanted him back, he was gone. She didn’t have the power to
raise him from the dead. And she certainly never expected to meet someone like him
again.

“Are you all right?” Shiloh sounded amused. “You look dazed. And dreamy. You aren’t
going to start doodling Con’s name on napkins now, are you?”

Willow shook her head and managed a small smile. “He reminds me of Jack. Crazy, huh?
It must just be the day.”

“Wow, boss,” Shiloh said. “Jack must have been hot.”

Willow laughed. “Not like Con, but I thought he was sexy.”

“I wouldn’t know because you’ve never shown me a picture,” Shiloh said pointedly,
almost begging to see one now. “But if he looks like Con—”

“I haven’t shown you a picture for a very good reason—I’m trying to move on. And he
didn’t look like Con. Except for the dark hair and eyes. And the height.” That was
another, more compelling reason Willow didn’t flash Jack’s picture around—the Agency
had warned her not to. For her safety.

Shiloh put on a comical disappointed look and dropped her quest to see a picture of
Jack. “Is that all you noticed about him? His eyes? ’Cause his other parts were awfully
nice.”

Willow shook her head, ignoring the innuendo in Shiloh’s voice. “We’d better get to
work.”

*   *   *

That went well,
Jack thought as he got into his rented car in Willow’s driveway.

This mission was going to kill him. He now knew his exact reaction to seeing Willow
in the flesh—tight, clutching lust. Longing that made him ache to touch her. Dangerously
tender feelings he thought he’d buried so deep they’d never resurface. He wanted to
hold her in his arms and tell her he was sorry. For everything.

Damn.

Willow was the only woman who’d ever rattled him. She said it was because they were
soul mates. He wasn’t the romantic type. He’d never believed in things like star-crossed
lovers. But he couldn’t deny his connection with Willow still posed a clear and present
danger to his mission and her life.

How was he going to face her at the party without giving himself away?

Jack was shaken and stirred—a bad, and potentially lethal, combination for an assassin/spy.
He had a targeted killing to carry out. He needed to keep his head in the game.

Given what he did for a living, people accused him of having no conscience. Hell,
he didn’t issue the killing commands. He merely carried out orders.

But the way he saw it, he had plenty of conscience. If he failed this mission, the
Rooster would attack the G8 emergency summit, killing diplomats and innocent civilians.
Women. Children. Old people. Young people in their prime. People with nothing more
than living their everyday lives on their minds. People who had no chance of fighting
back or defending themselves.

Jack
was
their self-defense. They were on his conscience.

He pulled a caramel from the bag and took a bite as he buckled up. He’d rather be
licking it off Willow’s body, like he used to. Now
that
was heaven. He shouldn’t have ordered his favorite. That was careless. And yet he
was touched. She’d named the candy after him—the Lucky Jack. He wished he could have
been sarcastic about it, but he
was
damn lucky. He’d survived that blast and lived to see Willow one more time.

He took another bite and stuck his key in the ignition. The engine turned over. He
put the car in reverse and backed around until he was pointed down the driveway.

Willow had looked at him as if she recognized him. The Sense reacting to him? Or was
he still, new looks and all, just a little too familiar?

None of it mattered. They couldn’t be together again.

First he had to meet his “cousin.” Then Jack planned to head over to Cooper Orchards
and U-pick a box of apples as he scoped the place out and looked for his opportunity
to strike. He was trained in a hundred different ways to kill. He just needed to know
how to pick his poison. Literally.

*   *   *

Bluff Country Store was everything you’d expect of a country store—a story-and-a-half
barnlike structure with varnished bare-wood interior walls and wall-to-wall country
goods filling the shelves. It sold everything from locally made crafts and goods to
touristy commercial dishes and pottery, basically anything with a farm or country
motif. Roosters were a popular theme. And ruffles.

The back half of the first floor housed a deli with a candy counter where they sold
Willow’s chocolates and caramels. Off to the side they sold locally grown vegetables
and fruit from bins.

The parking lot was gravel. Only the roads were paved around here, and many of them
only shot-oiled. The winters were too hard on pavement.

The store had a large covered front porch filled with tables and chairs and stand-up
signs advertising upcoming events and specials. In October, the porch was decorated
with cornstalks, pumpkins, and gourds and the signs sang the praises of the Apple
Festival.

Dodging the free-range chickens that roamed the lot pecking for pebbles, Willow parked
as close as she could to the building. She shut off the ignition and jumped out. Someone
had left a wagon in the lot. Bluff Country Store used little red wagons instead of
shopping carts. She loaded it up with her caramel and headed to the store.

Ada looked down at her through the window as Willow hauled the wagon up the single
step to the porch. She waved from behind the cash register.

“Here with our caramel, excellent! That’s one thing going right,” Ada said, coming
out to greet her. “Let me get Matt to help you with that. Matt!” she called over her
shoulder for her teenage son.

Ada put her hand on Willow’s shoulder. “Leave it there. Matt will get it.” She gave
Willow a sympathetic look. “Things are already frantic around here getting ready for
tomorrow. How are you holding up?”

Willow shrugged, ignoring the real reason her friend asked, pretending her day was
just like everyone else’s. “I’m harried and behind schedule. I still have apple pie
fudge to make. What else is new?”

Ada raised a brow. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” And she was. Or would be if she could put Con Russo and his attractive
similarity to Jack out of her mind.

“Are you as stressed about tomorrow as the rest of us are? All these last-minute details
for the festival. You think you have things under control.…” Ada sighed. “I could
use a little break. How about you? Do you have time for a cup of coffee? I have news.”
She winked at Willow.

“News? In Orchard Bluff? You mean gossip. Sure, I always have time for that.”