No Foolin' (Willowdale Romance Novel)

Welcome to Willowdale, North Carolina, a small town where the folks are friendly, the romances are as sweet as the tea, and the biddies at the diner gobble up gossip like it’s peach cobbler. This may be their biggest scoop ever.

When sexy Hollywood bad-boy Teague “T-Rex” Reynolds comes to this quiet Southern town, he needs a fake girlfriend to hide the secret that brought him there. School nurse Kate Riley takes the job, but she won’t fall for a movie star, no ma’am. That’s fine with Teague. He hung a closed sign on his heart years ago.

Convincing the press they’re in love is one thing. Fooling each other they’re not is getting harder each day. Despite scandal, heartache, and misunderstandings galore, they might just find the sweet thrill of true love. Book one of The Willowdale Romances.

Book Two of The Willowdale Romances

Man of the Month

A Willowdale Romance

by

Lisa Scott

Bell Bridge Books

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Bell Bridge Books
PO BOX 300921
Memphis, TN 38130
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-235-4
Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-214-9

Bell Bridge Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 by Lisa Scott Macdonough writing as Lisa Scott
Man of the Month
(excerpt) copyright © 2012 by Lisa Scott Macdonough writing as Lisa Scott

Printed and bound in the United States of America.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

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Cover design: Debra Dixon
Interior design: Hank Smith
Photo credits:
Woman (manipulated) © Branislav Ostojic | Dreamstime.com

:Mfn:01:

To my mother, who’s always believed in me. If I told her I was going to colonize Mars, she’d say, “Call me when you get there!” Too bad she’s not allowed to read this book because of certain scenes.

KATE RILEY PULLED up in front of Scalia’s Bistro, ready to go in and beg for a job she didn’t want; her cut-off jeans and faded tank top made that clear. The tire of her Jeep bumped over the curb, and a hubcap clanged onto the sidewalk. She groaned.
One of these days,
it’s gotta get better, right?

Main Street was usually quiet in the middle of the afternoon, but a horn blared as she backed up to fix her lousy parking job. She gave the driver a friendly wave instead of the not-so-friendly finger itching to pop up. Gotta be careful in a small town like this—it was probably someone she knew. Easing back into the spot, her gas gauge lit up.

“Perfect.” She turned off the engine and slumped in her seat. Nope, this wasn’t gonna be the day a sack of cash fell from the sky. Attached to Mr. Right. Although, she’d given up on meeting him after Mr. So Very, Very Wrong kicked a hole in her heart.

Not everyone’s meant for love, sugar.
That’s what Mama always said about her own sorry marriage. Kate must’ve inherited
that
gene—along with hips that didn’t quit.

“Thanks for the ride to work,” her stepsister, Dina, said from the passenger seat. “Except for almost running down the pedestrians.” She rolled her eyes, hopped out, and nearly tumbled over from the weight of her baby belly—not quite ready to pop, but getting there. “I’ll find a lift home, really.”

Kate leaned across the console and forced a smile. “Maybe the baby’s daddy could give you a ride home? Ready to tell us who that is?”

Dina crossed her skinny arms and tipped up her chin. “I’m not talking
to
or
about
the baby’s daddy.”

Kate let out a sigh she knew was too long and exhausted for someone her age. She sounded like Pansy Parker down at the Jelly Jar diner when they ran out of sweet potato pie. “Dina, if the cancer hadn’t killed my mama, this would have.”

Dina’s eyes narrowed, framed by eyebrows plucked pencil-thin and highlighted with too much pink eye shadow. “Well, it did, and that doesn’t suddenly make you my parent. I’m eighteen.” She rubbed her belly. “Me and the baby will be fine.”

Kate swallowed the angry knot in her throat along with the snotty comeback. “Someone’s gotta be your parent now, Dina. George may be your father, but he sure doesn’t act like it. He forgot to drive you to work today. You think he’s going to help with a baby?” She shook her head. “Any idea where he is this time? Maybe out getting a job?”

Dina shrugged. “Doubt it.” Then her lips quivered and her big blue eyes watered up. “He’s not going to jail, is he?” The kid could go from surly to sad in two seconds flat. Amazing.

“No. They won’t arrest him. They’d just take the house. But don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” She wasn’t going to let her stepfather lose her mama’s house because he was too irresponsible to pay the property taxes. If only her job as a nurse at the junior high paid more. If only she had a brother or sister to help shoulder the burden. Or a husband. Scratch that. A husband seemed like a good idea until you got one. At least that’s how it’d been for her mama. “I’ll get the money for the taxes.” Because that’s what Kate did—she fixed things, whether it was a bandage on a boo-boo or finding a stack of cash to save her house. Kate always did what she had to do, and she was proud of that.

Dina put her hand on her hip. “Then you better get inside and ask about that waitress position, or it’s gonna be filled.” And her mood snapped back, just like that, the manipulative little . . . “Bye,” she fluttered her fingers at Kate and lumbered into Scalia’s Bistro, her dark ponytail swinging in time with her hips.

Working with her stepsister and a bunch of surly teens at Scalia’s was going to make for a hellish summer. Plus, Kate had already worked there when she was a teenager. Not mortifying at all to come back at age twenty-six. Things definitely were not getting better, not this day, anyway.

She rested her head back on the seat and re-did the mental math. Again. She needed more than an extra ten-thousand dollars by summer’s end to pay off the taxes and fines, or the folks at the town hall were putting a lien on the house. A waitressing job wouldn’t pull that in. Double shifts,
maybe—
with a really tight uniform. What would that cost her pride? Plenty. Just one more reason for the chatterboxes in Willowdale, North Carolina, to talk about poor, poor Kate Riley. Being gossip fodder had never been on any bucket list of hers, yet here she was keeping the blue-hairs still chatting.

Kate looked up and down Main Street, empty of any other help-wanted signs. She’d had no luck at the hospital over in Whitesville or the residential-care facility in town. Wasn’t much available in Willowdale besides this position, unless she learned how to change oil down at the Jiffy Lube or roll perms at Tonya’s Curl E.Q. Salon. Her pal Jeanne had tried that once and had nearly run Tonya’s business into the ground. Dot Klein’s hair was just growing back after Jeanne forgot to wash out her perm.

So, Scalia’s was it.

She got out of the car, grabbed the hubcap and tossed it in her backseat. Lingering in front of the town’s fanciest restaurant, she was just putting off the inevitable. The garlicky smell of the early-bird special made her stomach curl.
The smell of defeat, sister.
She leaned against her car and wilted in the steamy afternoon, all sticky and warm like a long, hot yawn
.

Pushing away from the car, ready to go inside—if only for the air conditioning—she spotted a man hurrying toward her: tall, drop-jaw handsome, and totally out of place with his new leather shoes, dark jeans and white linen shirt. He didn’t belong here, yet he did look familiar. You’d remember a guy like him. Hell, you’d dream about a guy like him. Without thinking, she sucked in her cheeks and her stomach and took a deep breath.
Hot. Damn.

The man glanced over his shoulder then approached her. He lifted his sunglasses, cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “Can you give me a ride?”

That brought her stampeding heart to a halt.
What about me screams taxi
, she wondered. “A ride?” Her shoulders slumped.

“Yes. Anywhere.” His smile fell as he glanced around. “And fast.”

Kate pointed at the restaurant. “I was just going in to ask about a job.” She took a step back and looked him up and down. “And I don’t even know you.”
Not that I wouldn’t like to .
 . .

He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor, I’m a nice guy looking for a ride. And more importantly,” he said, reaching into his pocket, “I will give you five hundred dollars to drive me out of this town right now.” He plucked five one-hundred-dollar bills from his slim black wallet and spread them out like a hand of cards.

Kate wondered what kind of trouble this guy was in—and how long it would take to make five hundred dollars in tips without showing ample cleavage during happy hour. It wasn’t a bag of money attached to Mr. Right, but it certainly was an interesting development. She nibbled on her lip. What do they say about desperate times? “Get in.”

He ducked into the car and looked out the back window. “Go!”

Kate hopped in and screeched the car onto the street. “Where?”

“I’m not sure.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

Kate stole another look at him. He had dark hair threaded with glints of copper, high cheekbones and a strong jaw that would undoubtedly hold up to some serious kissing. Major muscles lurked beneath that fancy shirt, and she glanced down at his thighs. Her car veered onto the shoulder. She snapped her focus—and her wheels—back on the road. She wasn’t known as Willowdale’s best driver, and this guy certainly wasn’t helping improve her reputation.

He turned to her. “I’m sorry, I should’ve mentioned to drive
without killing me
.”

Kate slowed the car and jerked her thumb toward his door. “You want out?”

He held up his hands and faked a smile, showing off teeth whiter than she’d ever seen. “No, no, we’re fine. Is there somewhere we could hide out for a few hours?”

She drove faster, laughing nervously. “You’re not running from the police, are you? Cause I guarantee Police Chief Tommy Larsen will find you.” At least, he’d always had a knack for tracking her down. Kate glanced in her rearview mirror, making sure he wasn’t on her tail again. “We’re not going to get shot, are we?”

“The only thing we could get shot with today is a camera.”

“Excuse me?”
I’ve picked up a narcissistic lunatic.

He dropped his head in his hands. “I’m trying to dodge the
paparazzi
.”

“
Paparazzi?
In Willowdale?” She laughed. “I doubt Ned Shaw from the Weekly Saver’s tracking anyone down, not even this week’s high bowler. Who are you?”

He looked at her and made his voice all serious. “Teague Reynolds.”

“Teague Reynolds.” She twisted her lips, thinking. “Sounds familiar.”

He let out a ragged, annoyed breath. “Teague Reynolds. I was on that TV series,
Big and Bad
?”

She blinked at him.
Sorry your hotness, no idea.

He scrunched his eyebrows like a disappointed kid. “I got a Golden Globe Nomination this year for best supporting actor in
Desperate at Midnight
?”

Kate snapped her fingers. “You’re the one who dates all the young actresses. What do they call you?” She tapped a finger on the steering wheel, trying to remember.

Teague dropped his head back and groaned. “They’re not
all
young.”

Kate’s mind spun, searching for his nickname. “Some big, scary animal that stomps around .
 . . like all over women’s hearts . . . Tiger . . . T-Bone . . .
”

“T-Rex,” he mumbled.

She smacked the steering wheel. “Yes! T-Rex. I know who you are.” She squinted at him. “You look different in person.” Then she frowned. “I can’t believe you dated both Cameron twins.”

His mouth opened and closed. “Not at the same time.”

“Didn’t Kimmie Cameron go for therapy after you dumped her?”

“Trust me, she needed it.”

Kate slowed the car. “Are you running from a woman? I don’t do catfights.” Kate could be foolish, but she wasn’t a
total
fool.

“No! No catfight.” He crossed his arms and groaned. “Is there somewhere we can lie low, or not?”

“Quit pouting. I’m thinking.” Kate sped up. “What in the world are you doing in Willowdale, North Carolina?”

“Nothing I want anyone to know about. But someone suspects I’m here and I don’t want them to prove it and find out why.” Again, he looked back. “Yep. Same black SUV that’s been following me the last half hour. Do you have a hiding place? I’ll give you an extra five hundred dollars. Sounds like you need the cash.”

Anger snapped in her chest like a twig. It had become totally obvious to a complete stranger that she was broke, desperate, and willing to do anything for money. Well, just about anything. “A hiding place? Who do I look like, Batgirl or Buffy? I’m Kate, by the way, since you didn’t ask.”
Kate Riley,
chauffeur to ungrateful passengers all across the Carolinas.

He drummed his fingers on his thighs. “What about your place, Kate-by-the-way?” He pulled another stack of bills from his wallet—along with another sexy grin.

“It’s Kate Riley. And you don’t want to go to my place. My stepfather might be home, and then all bets are off.” Willowdale was too small a town to hide in. She fluttered her fingers, thinking. Unless .
 . .
ughh. Could she really take him there?

“Shoot. I’ve got one place we might try.” She blushed just thinking of where she was proposing to take Hollywood’s most badly behaved boy. She’d have to remember not to let her guard down around this guy.