Perfect Together (7 page)

God. He did not want to hurt her feelings any more than he wanted to have this conversation, but the woman couldn’t take a polite hint.

“Margie, I had a nice time tonight, but—”

“Oh, so did I! I always knew if I could persuade you to go out with me you’d see the potential.” She ran her hand down his arm.

He closed his eyes. “I don’t. I mean I just want to be friends.”

“Well, of course, silly. I want that too. Very good friends.” She dropped her hand to his thigh, and Sam jumped so high in his seat his head nearly hit the roof of the car. She made him want to grab for his gun, which he always had on him, he thought, laughing to himself. Though he really wasn’t amused.

He grasped her wrist before she could touch him anywhere else. “I
only
want to be friends,” he clarified. “I’m sorry, but—”

“I’m offering you everything . . .” She gestured from her cleavage on downward. “And you’re turning me down?” she asked, her voice rising. “Oh my God, you must be gay.”

He blinked in shock. “I’m not gay.” Although gay was preferable to her. “I’m just not interested that way. You’re a nice woman and I’m sure there’s someone out there who can make you very happy. It’s just not me.”

“Screw happy. I have everything I want except sex with a hot guy. What’s wrong with you that you don’t want to give me that?”

Sam
stared at her, recognizing that she had more than one screw loose. “Like I said, I’m sure there’s someone out there for you.”

“I’ve always wanted you,” she said, composing herself again.

And clearly she wasn’t used to not getting what she wanted. So when he’d agreed to this date, she’d assumed they could be together. “But I don’t want you,” he said, deciding her persistence called for extreme measures.

She narrowed her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he felt compelled to say again.

“Fine. I’m sure Rob Burnett will be interested since you aren’t.”

Sam couldn’t think of a better fit than Margie and Rob, the player. He remained silent, and with a huff of annoyance she flung open the car door, not waiting for him to get out or even react, and flounced—there wasn’t a better word for her gait—down the driveway and around back to her private entrance.

Sam shook his head and pulled out of the driveway, glad to have this night over and Margie Stinson out of his life so he could move on to what mattered.

Just the thought of Nicole, looking so damn beautiful in that blue dress that draped her curves, had all thoughts of any other women evaporating as if they’d never existed for him at all.

The morning after the gala, Nicole walked into The
Family Restaurant for breakfast. She asked for Macy, only to be told her friend wasn’t working this morning, so she settled into a booth and ordered an egg-white omelet and a cup of coffee. A few minutes later, a woman who looked to be in her midsixties made herself at home in the seat across from Nicole.

“Hello,” Nicole said, not recognizing the older strawberry blonde with teased hair and wrists covered with bracelets.

“Hi yourself.” The woman set her arms on the table and stared at Nicole.

And continued to stare until Nicole became uncomfortable. “Can I help you?”

“Get off my turf.”

Nicole blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a baker?”

Nicole
nodded warily.

“Then what I said stands. Leave and nobody will get hurt.” The other woman slapped her hand on the table for emphasis, revealing extra-long, fluorescent orange nails.

Nicole didn’t know what to make of this crazy lady. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but I’m new in town. I don’t know you. I don’t even own a business—”

“So let’s keep it that way,” she said, pinning Nicole with a heated stare.

Nicole grabbed for her purse, tempted to run and to get far away from this lunatic, but ultimately decided to stand her ground.

“Hello, ladies.” Macy’s familiar voice was a welcome interruption.

Nicole looked up at her new friend. “This . . . this crazy woman was threatening me.”

Macy frowned and plopped herself onto the cushioned bench next to the insane woman and forcibly shoved her farther into the seat to give herself more room. “Aunt Lulu, I warned you to behave. I told you Nicole was a friend and that you two would have a lot in common.”

“This is your aunt?” Nicole pointed to the woman, who was now grinning at her.

“Yes, and you two have so much in common, I just know you’ll get along. Like I told you last night, Aunt Lulu bakes pies and cakes, while Nicole said she bakes specialty items, like cupcakes, cookies, and pastries. Aunt Lulu, weren’t you talking about opening up your own bake shop?”

Nicole’s gaze shot to Macy. “You didn’t think to mention this?”

She waved away Nicole’s question. “Because I knew
you’d make fantastic partners, but you two needed to meet first. Aunt Lulu’s protective of her niche, but trust me, this is a match made in heaven.” She nudged her aunt again. “Tell her you’re not threatening her.”

Aunt Lulu let out a loud laugh. “Of course not. I had to make sure she could handle me,” she said, an apology in her voice. “I am sweet, I am sarcastic, I am woman.”

Nicole shook her head in confusion.

Aunt Lulu patted her hand. “I was testing you, doll. You passed. You didn’t hit me, you didn’t shriek like a banshee, and you didn’t run. We’ll get along just fine.” The other woman braced her arms back on the table. “Now, ready to talk turkey? Or cakes, pastries, and pies, as the case may be?”

Nicole glanced at Macy. “Are you sure she’s not insane?”

Macy shrugged. “No more than anyone else in my family.”

Nicole couldn’t say she felt any better about that. She thought she’d left true insanity behind.

A few minutes later, she reevaluated her feelings on the woman and her mental state. Aunt Lulu had pulled a fully thought-out proposal from her oversized purse. Not only did she have a location for a bake shop in mind, but she also had a business plan. Apparently, she’d been working on the idea ever since she received a settlement from an accident of sorts at a local supermarket. But at her age, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go into business alone, so she’d been debating on what to do.

Nicole, she’d decided, was fate, or she would be once Macy tasted Nicole’s baked goods. She’d promised to bring some items by as well.

They brainstormed for more than an hour. Nicole added
her thoughts, and Aunt Lulu—she insisted Nicole call her that too—promised she’d incorporate everything they’d discussed into a more thorough plan. She’d already been scoping out the old bakery Sam had mentioned to her the other day. She suggested that they each put in the same amount of money and approach the bank for a startup loan to cover other costs, and get started.

Everything about Aunt Lulu’s plan was professional, and since the Donovan family had been in business for years, Nicole had even more confidence in Aunt Lulu and her abilities. Still, Nicole would ask around town about her reputation . . . just in case.

During their talk, Nicole’s cell phone rang twice. Tyler’s name showed up both times. She winced, knowing she’d have to call him later today and make it clear she wasn’t going to change her mind about ending their engagement. She was not looking forward to the conversation.

After wrapping things up with Aunt Lulu, Nicole headed to the grocery store for a major food shopping excursion. Once she arrived back at the apartment and started to put away all her staples and other items, Nicole stepped back and eyed the place in dismay. The cabinets were full and she’d had to stack things on the counters, cutting into her working space, what little there’d been to start with.

As much as she liked her apartment over Joe’s, loved that it was in the center of town and had a month-to-month lease, the tiny space was slowly driving her insane. And she hadn’t been there long. Her old apartment in Manhattan hadn’t been huge, but it did provide room when she dove into baking. Here she hadn’t even been able to unpack her beloved mixer and other countertop appliances.

She’d
thought she could make do until she came to a decision about whether she’d get a job or attempt to open her own bake shop, but she was wrong.

She’d need to make another move, and soon. She needed the newspaper to see what was available. Grabbing her bag, she opened the door—and came face-to-face with a vase full of flowers. “What the . . . ?”

“Umm . . . Surprise?” Sam moved the vase away from his face. “You didn’t give me a chance to knock.”

She looked him over, taking in his weekend appearance. A worn pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, and stubble gave him a scruffy, appealing look, and pleasure rushed through her at the sight of him.

“Hi.” She smiled, and he grinned at her in return.

“I obviously caught you leaving.”

She nodded. “I was going to pick up a newspaper and see what houses or condos are available to rent. I thought this place was cute when I first found it, but it’s too small. I can’t bake anything substantial here and I’m feeling claustrophobic.”

“I can understand.”

She glanced at his full hands, realizing how rude she was being, and stepped aside. “I’m sorry. Come on in.”

He held out the flowers, and she felt herself blush as she accepted them. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

His gaze met hers.

He didn’t say
so are you
, but the way he looked at her, devouring her with his eyes, as if he could see her inside and out, made her feel all kinds of special.

She set the bouquet down on her counter, where she’d have a good view of them from wherever she sat in the apartment, looked at him, and grinned.

“What’s
that smile for?” he asked.

She glanced at the flowers once more. “They’re daisies. I love daisies.”

“I’m glad. I wanted to get you something different.”

“Why?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Because
you’re
different,” he said in a deep voice, and her entire body flushed hot.

He glanced around the small apartment. So did she, viewing the one counter in the kitchen and the bed that remained in her peripheral vision. Yep, it was time.

“Want company on your hunt for a new place to live?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? You want to spend your day off helping me house or condo hunt?”

“I want to spend my day off with
you
.”

She did a happy dance, at least inside. “Okay, then. Let’s go buy a newspaper and check out the ads.” She grabbed her purse from the counter and swiped the keys off the hook on the wall.

Hours later, Nicole had discovered that for a small town, there were a variety of rentals available and not all offered the same things. From condos like the one Cara had lived in, to an apartment complex downtown, to rooms for rent in a freestanding home, Nicole had her choice and she and Sam had walked through every one.

Her legs ached; she was exhausted and ready to call it quits. “I don’t mean to be so picky, but nothing we saw works for me.”

She stretched her legs out in Sam’s SUV. He’d insisted on driving since he knew his way around town, and now she was glad she’d agreed.

“It’s not picky to want to like where you live.” He rested
his arm across the two front seats, his fingers grazing her shoulder.

She suppressed a delightful shiver. “At least you’re not annoyed. Which I don’t understand. Most men in their right minds would have no patience for a day like today.”

“Are you saying I’m insane?”

She shook her head and laughed. “No, just special.”

He grinned, revealing that dimple in his cheek. “Thank you.”

“I guess it’s time to head home,” she said, discouraged.

“Not quite. There’s one more place that isn’t listed.”

She turned toward him, hopes raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “It’s in a nice neighborhood, has a backyard with a barbecue, and a really good-looking neighbor next door.” He winked at her.

Her eyes opened wide at his implication. “Seriously?”

He nodded, and his devilish grin had her wanting to agree to move in sight unseen. “Why didn’t you mention this place before?” Unless he didn’t really want her living so close to him but was offering because she’d run out of options.

“Because I wanted you to see everything else out there. The sellers are an older couple who want to test the weather down south for a year. You’d be making a one-year commitment and—”

She leaned in closer. “And?” She urged him to continue.

“It’s a whole house. I wasn’t sure you’d want such a big responsibility on top of the year lease.” He shrugged.

“So it wasn’t because you didn’t want me as your neighbor? Because I can understand why you wouldn’t. I mean, we could hang out and discover we’re not interested in each other and then we’d be living almost in each other’s backyard, and that would be awkward.”

He
shook his head, the easygoing grin never leaving his face. “Like I said, I wanted you to see everything else first. That’s it. You didn’t like the other options and I’d have shown you this last even if you had. Besides, I would love to have you as my neighbor.” He paused. “If that’s something you’d want.”

As if she’d say no. “I’d love to see it.”

“Good.” He turned and focused on driving, turning the car and heading toward his home.

“I have to say, I’m surprised you live in a house,” she said.

“Why is that?”

She shrugged. “I guess I expected you to live in a bachelor pad of some sort. An apartment or condo where you don’t have to worry about taking care of things when an association or landlord could do it for you.”

“I always knew I’d stay in Serendipity, so why throw my money away on a rental?”

Why indeed? The man had
hearth and home
written all over him, making Nicole wonder why he hadn’t settled down with one woman long before now.

“So why haven’t these people listed their home in the paper?”

“It’s been up for rent for a while, and they live on a fixed income. They didn’t want to spend any more money on advertising, so they put up signs around town. But they plan on leaving their furniture for whoever rents. They left me the key to show to potential buyers when they’re gone.”