Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel) (11 page)

“Jeff, he’s just trying to help. I don’t know what I would have done without Brad. I would have had to call you and interrupt your dinner. He was great with them. Got them to bed, read them a story. They were like different kids. It was incredible.”

Jeff looked back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t understand why you set me up with her when the two of you
 . . .
” He shook his head. “Mandy should be home from her dance. Let me go get her, so she can stay here while I drive you home.”

She held up her hand. “Brad and I are just friends.”

“Right.”

Brad stood up and pulled out his keys. “Why don’t I take Jeanne home? I’m headed back that way anyhow.”

“I think that would be for the best.”

THEY WERE QUIET for most of the ride home.

“Okay, Mr. April won’t have kids,” Brad said. His window was open a crack, letting in the cold night air.

Her head bounced against the back of the seat as they rode along. “You’re seriously going to make me do this again?”

“A bet’s a bet, kiddo.”

She groaned. “Let’s talk about something else. Like the residential center anniversary party.”

Talking about business was a good, safe distraction.

“All right. The party’s less than three months away, two hundred guests. We need soup, salad, three entrée choices, six different appetizers, and a great big dessert table and anniversary cake.”

Jeanne nodded. “Good. There’ll be a lot of bigwigs there. Hopefully we’ll drum up some more business.” She grinned at him in the moonlight flooding through the windshield. “I wonder if the O’Haras would give us another shot.”

“Let’s not mention them again.”

When he pulled up in front of her house, he walked her to her door, and she squeezed him tight. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, Brad.”

He squeezed her back and kissed the top of her head. “Anything for you, Jeanne.”

Which wasn’t true. Because he still wasn’t willing to give her what she really wanted.

JEANNE WALKED into the kitchen at Elegant Eats two weeks later and froze when she saw Brad holding a platter of Caprese salad. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“Something’s always wrong when you make me Caprese Salad. You hate balsamic vinegar, and I know where basil stands on your list of favorite herbs. Low. Real low.” She plucked a stack of tomato, fresh mozzarella, and basil from the tray. “But not on mine.” She grinned and took a bite.

Brad stared at her with his brows scrunched together. “You’re right. What else do I make for you when I’m in trouble?”

“Mojitos and bruschetta. Anything with basil. Now spill it. What’s going on?”

He parked his butt on the stool across from her. Shook his head. “State budget cuts at the residential facility. They want to cancel the anniversary party. We’ve got their deposit money, but that’s it.”

She set down the half-eaten tomato stack. “But we’ll lose our deposits on the table and chair rentals. We were counting on that party to bring in more business. What do we do?”

He scratched his head, sighing. “We can scale it down, just do apps and dessert and hope it pulls in some new clients. We can write it off as a loss.” He shrugged. “We could pull double duty and have an open house the next day since we have all the rentals.”

Jeanne pressed her hands against her eyes. “What does this do to our finances?”

Brad didn’t say anything.

“Brad?” Her stomach was free falling.

“We’re in trouble, Jeanne. Things were tight before this. Tighter than I’d let on. I’ve ducked into what little savings I have left.”

She’d never seen him look so scared. Her throat clenched. “And we would’ve been fine if I hadn’t ruined things with the O’Hara’s. Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. Never a good sign.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t have any money left. Maybe we’re going to have to call it quits.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. They’d dreamed about this business for the past two years. She’d scrimped and scraped to save up her share then pushed for it when Brad got cold feet. She glanced at the Caprese salad but felt too sick to eat any more.

He crossed his arms. “No. I’ll think of something. I can probably get the landlord to float the rent one more month, and I’ll figure something out. Do we go through with the anniversary party?”

The look of pain in his eyes hit her square in the chest. They had to make this work. “Yeah, I think we have to.” She slid off her stool. “I’m going to crank out some more pies. Maybe I can increase some of our standing orders.”

He snagged her hand as she got up from her chair. “I won’t let you down. I’ll figure something out.”

“I trust you.” She smiled at him and knew he’d come up with a solution. This was Brad. He never let her down.

“It’s probably horrible timing, but there is one more thing to talk about.”

She plopped back into her chair. “What? A girl can only take so much in a day.”

He grinned hard, probably because he knew she was a sucker for his dimples. “Okay, I figured you were going to get cold feet for Mr. April but, I promise you, this guy is perfect. His name is Walt Townsend.”

“And you’re springing this on me without cranking out the mojitos?” She shook her head. “Lord help me. What makes him perfect?”

“Because this time I had Dolly down at the station find a guy. And she spent weeks searching. He’s the son of a friend of her neighbors. She had all her friends check him out. Tommy did a criminal check because I figured that would be our next headache—a felon. But the guy’s clean. Cleaner than clean. He was voted Most Likely to Succeed in his high school and lived up to the rep. He sold his business and just moved to Whitesville to get away from the rat race in the city. And he has two cats and no kids, and he’s going to fall in love with you.”

He planted his hands on his hips like he was the sheriff who’d just locked up the bad guy and restored peace to the streets.

Jeanne pursed her lips, searching for an objection, but the guy sounded pretty darn good. And if Dolly had spent all that time looking and gave him the stamp of approval, she was obligated to at least check him out. She pointed a warning finger at Brad. “Fine, but one more date involving emergency personnel, and I’m officially done with your fool plan.”

“Fair enough. If the date ends with sirens, we call the whole thing off.”

They shook on it, and she finished off the Caprese salad.

JEANNE WASN’T sure if Mr. April would show up, considering their date was on April Fool’s Day. Maybe he’d be wearing a clown suit, and it would be one big joke on her. But when the hostess led Jeanne to the bar where Mr. April was sitting, she wasn’t laughing.

Not bad at all
, she thought.

He smiled and stood up as she walked over. “Jeanne, so good to meet you.” He was silent for a moment, then laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that Brad didn’t do a good enough job describing how beautiful you are.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and her words caught in her throat. “Thanks.”

The hostess led them to a quiet table in the back of the restaurant, and Walt picked out a bottle of wine for them to share.

“Can you believe this is my first blind date ever?” he asked.

She spread her napkin on her lap, grateful she’d worn that silky cream dress of hers—the cup enhancer that Kate loved on her. “Actually, I can believe it. I can’t imagine it’s too hard for someone like you to meet women. So why’d you agree to this one?”

He shrugged. “I’m new in town. I’m getting older. It’s time to focus on what I really want—a family. Great wife, kids, the dogs. All of it.”

Jeanne took a quick drink of her wine. Brad was right on the money with this one. Walt was tall, with dark hair, gray eyes, and a dazzling smile. And for some reason, she couldn’t keep her eyes off his fingers.

He laid his hands flat on the table. “And how is it that you’re on a blind date? You certainly don’t seem the type.”

She toyed with a piece of hair that had fallen from her twist. “I’m kind of in the same situation as you. I really want to find the right person and start a family, and it just hasn’t happened. So Brad tricked me into a New Year’s Resolution—Man of the Month.” She couldn’t believe she was admitting this.

Walt cocked an eyebrow. “So, I’m Mr. April?”

“Indeed you are.”

He let out a sexy laugh then lowered his voice. “Do I want to know what happened to Mr. January, February and March?”

Jeanne looked off for a moment. “Mr. January is probably still riding his bike around looking for a job, so he can actually pick up the tab next time.” She gave him a strained smile. “And hopefully Mr. February has recovered from the allergic reaction he had to the cat fur on my coat.”

Walt’s eyes widened. “No, that did not happen.”

“Yep, the date ended early so he could stop at the ER.”

He grimaced. “Do I even want to know about Mr. March?”

Jeanne smiled and closed her eyes. “He probably won’t talk to me again. I had to call 911 while babysitting his children. I thought we were going on our second date, but he parked me at home with his kids.” She opened her eyes and grinned at him, feeling positively flirty. “Lucky me.”

Walt shook his head and tried to stifle his grin. “I give you big points for even showing up tonight.” He held up his glass. “To blind dates. May this be the last one for us both.”

She let her eyes glance up at his and then raised her glass, too. The ripple of excitement in her belly wasn’t knocking her over, but it wasn’t going away, either.

After chatting non-stop during dinner, they discovered they both loved thunderstorms and antique stores. And he liked basil, take that Brad Larsen. When their dessert arrived, a piano player started with some lovely music.

After sharing tastes of their desserts—which she only ever did with Brad—Walt stood up and offered his hand. “Shall we?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes.” She had not expected to feel this way.

He led her to the dance floor in the middle of the restaurant and surprised her with a few good moves. He smoothly took the lead, and she liked that. Up close like they were, she could smell his musky cologne, and she breathed in deeply. It smelled like Brad’s cologne. Not that he wore it often, but when he did, it was something awfully similar to Walt’s.

She closed her eyes and moved to the music with him, trying to push Brad out of her mind. He really had set her up with a great guy this time. She was ready to be swept off her feet. She really was. It was for the best.

But something was keeping her feet—and her heart—stuck to the ground. The song ended, and Walt dipped her in her arms. She stumbled a bit, and he caught her and pulled her close enough for a kiss. But she stepped back.

“Thank you, that was really nice.”

He looked at her in a way no man had looked at her since
 . . .
Oh, shoot.
Since Brad had when they were a couple for that short time. Tears threatened to brim up in her eyes, so she dropped Walt’s hand and turned back to their table, pretending to push her hair off her face so she could dab away the tears.

Here she was with Mr. Wonderful served up on a silver platter. And from the look on his face and in his gorgeous gray eyes, he was thinking the same of her. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about Brad.

Maybe you’re just scared because this one is so good
.

She toyed with the notion while Walt ordered them coffee. There was only one way to find out. She’d have to kiss him to see if there really was a spark between them. She looked up and caught him staring at her again. Ending the night with a kiss probably wasn’t going to be a problem. Sometimes a girl just knew it was going to happen, and it
was
going to happen. And maybe a kiss would chase Brad and his dimple and those blue eyes out of her mind once and for all.

“So, what would you like to do now?” she asked, feeling a smile unfurl on her lips.

If possible, the smile on his face was even bigger.

They claimed they were going to catch a late movie, but only made it as far as his car. It was like she was back in high school, on a rare night when Aunt Betty let her go to a school dance, and Buddy Perkins was seeing how lucky he could get. But Walt was a much better kisser than Buddy.

With his soft lips brushing across hers, and his fingers tracing her jawbone, Jeanne was thoroughly enjoying herself. She opened her mouth, inviting him to take more. She loved kissing him like this.

She opened her eyes and let out a little gasp when she looked at Walt’s face instead of Brad’s.
You were imagining Brad the entire time.

“Dang it,” she said in a harsh whisper.

Walt took one shoulder in his hand and squeezed. “What is it, Jeanne?”

Should she lie? Should she try kissing him again? She shook her head and looked up at the ceiling of the car. “Walt, you are handsome and wonderful and funny, and you should be 100% perfect for me.”

He sighed and leaned back from her. “But
 . . .
”

“But someone else already is. And that’s the person I want to be with. I’m so sorry. It just wouldn’t be fair to drag this on when I know how it would end.”