“
Not on the agenda
.”
“
I don’t know how you’re going to build a business if you don’t mingle with the locals
.”
“
References through Tank Marlowe. The Internet
.”
“
Oh. Still—”
He’d killed the discussion with a kiss, softer and sweeter than their initial encounter but no less intense. A melding of lips, a sweep of tongue, a tender caress. He couldn’t remember ever being so hot on kissing. Or so thoroughly consumed by a woman on something other than a sexual level.
While sorting through his uncle’s boxes, Bella shared story after story regarding Funland and Nowhere in general, most of them cheerful or quirky, some about tourists, many about locals—most every tale laced with her smiles. She’d been as animated with Joe as she’d been with those kids at the library. He’d had a tough time concentrating on his sketches. She was that mesmerizing. Even the occasional somber account ended on an upbeat note. He’d tossed and turned through the night, reliving Bella’s every word, expression, observation, and summation. She was the most sincere, the least judgmental person he’d ever met. She’d even downplayed her former boyfriend’s habit of challenging her choices and opinions. “
He means well
,” she’d said.
Her tolerance and optimism shadowed Joe through the night and into the morning and, while pouring his first cup of coffee, he acknowledged the fascination had mushroomed to obsession.
His obsession
was the only child of a recently widowed man.
That man was just outside.
By the time Joe blew through the screen door, Mooney had rolled to the front gate. By the time Joe crossed the yard he’d reversed his former decision.
He’d seen his grieving neighbor at his worst—drunk, morose, and reckless.
He’d witnessed a stronger side—Mooney focused and constructive as he’d attacked Joe’s overgrown lawn and weed infested flower-beds.
He’d listened to Bella’s thoughts regarding her father’s abundance of free time and lack of purpose.
Only a heartless monster would deny Archie Mooney a chance to reclaim his pride and rebuild his shattered life.
Joe was not heartless.
With no more than a nod in greeting, he opened the gate and watched as Mooney drove onto his property, steering his mower and the attached wagon of gardening supplies toward the jungle once known as Rootin’ Tootin’ Funland.
Killer bumped against his leg, looking up at Joe as if to say,
So much for keeping people at bay
.
“My walls are intact, cat. Trust me.”
Just because he’d allowed Archie access to his property, didn’t mean he had to engage in conversation. Just because he’d relented, allowing Archie to manicure the park didn’t mean Joe was resurrecting Funland. Bella’s suggestion aggravated an open wound, tempting the ugly rage caged within. For Joe, being surrounded by kids, by their innocent faces and squeals of delight was akin to being flayed. Bella couldn’t know that, so his cold refusal had been harsh and unfair. He regretted that. But he had no intention of exposing her to his demons, so he’d shot down the discussion hoping to bury it.
Just then his phone chimed with an incoming message. A selfie of Bella smiling and preparing to devour a large sugary pastry along with the text:
Yr missing the food & fun + car display!
Joe smiled. Princess Rainbow, the eternal optimist.
He wasn’t interested in the social aspect of the festival—risking curiosity and conversation. And since it was a family affair, kids would be swarming. Another deterrent. But he was intrigued by a car display and even more intrigued by the notion of watching Bella laughing and loving life. A bandaged forehead and hands did nothing to dim her enthusiasm. Tempting. But then a second picture appeared. A group shot of Bella and four other women—all attractive, all smiling—plus a sweet-faced little girl, also smiling.
The Inseparables + Melody. Join us. Please.
Georgie, Emma, Angel, and Chrissy. He knew them by style and hair color. Bella had talked about her friends while sorting through Mike’s mountain of photos. Melody was Chrissy’s daughter and it was Melody who reinforced his decision to skip the festival.
Palms sweating, Joe thumbed a reply, shooting for polite over cold and probably failing. Brain and soul stirring with dark memories, he shoved his sunglasses on then straddled his bike. Destination: Wherever. Riding off this sickening fury might take an hour or two.
* * *
“What did he say?”
Bella stared at her phone. “Bad timing.”
“That’s it?” Georgie asked.
“If a picture of five gorgeous babes and a cutie-pie babe,” Emma said with a wink for Melody, “can’t lure that man to come out and play, he’s seriously weird.”
Bella didn’t comment but she silently gave Savage guff for being so stubborn. She’d been looking forward to the festival, then Carson had texted soon after she’d stepped onto the grounds:
Prepare 2 B dazzled
.
She didn’t like the sound of that. Nor did she appreciate his refusal to elaborate. Instead of enjoying the sights and sounds of the Arts and Fiddlers Festival, she’d spent most of the afternoon looking over her shoulder, bracing for Carson and whatever surprise he had in store.
Not wanting to ruin the day for her friends, she’d kept that text and her misgivings to herself. Maybe she’d get lucky and Carson would change his mind or maybe there’d be a glitch in his plans or maybe he’d wait to dazzle her until he got her alone. Then she could burst his bubble in private.
What would it take for that man to accept that they were through? If he saw her with Savage, if he knew she was interested in someone else, would he finally call it quits? Deterring Carson from making some dazzling gesture was only one of the reasons Bella had tried to entice Savage into joining her at the festival. If the Inseparables got to know “biker dude”, maybe they’d see what Bella sensed. That he was a sheep in wolves’ clothing.
Bad timing.
Just her luck.
“Not for anything, but Savage isn’t earning any points by avoiding us,” Chrissy said.
“It would be easier to support your dream partner if he wasn’t an enigma,” Angel said kindly.
“If he won’t come to us,” Emma said, “maybe we should go to him. We could visit under the pretense of me checking out the Funland memorabilia for the museum.”
“Maybe,” Bella said, “but—”
“It’s a plan,” Georgie said. “Just give us a day and time.”
“Damn. Look how late it is,” Chrissy said. “The horseshoe tourney starts in ten minutes and I promised Mel we’d cheer on Dad and Zeke.”
“Lead on,” Angel said. “We’re right behind you.”
The Inseparables plus Melody moved away from the concession trailers and Bella marveled at how quickly her friends smoothed over Savage’s refusal. Although Bella tempered her frustration, she knew her friends sensed it. Like her dad, she internalized—except for the occasional and extremely rare meltdown. For the second time in less than a week, Bella felt herself crumbling under stress.
Along with stuffing down Savage’s disappointing rejection and battling anxiety regarding Carson, she was also juggling a heaping serving of dread. Although she’d skimmed almost every craft booth at the festival, she’d begged off the quilting exhibition, opting to save that visit for last. It meant confronting her mom’s death on a deeply nostalgic and sentimental level. She wasn’t looking forward to it. But she wouldn’t run from it either.
Her phone chimed and Bella’s heart skipped. “Another text from Savage.”
“Did he change his mind?” Georgie asked.
“No.”
“Surprised he’s not all over this car display,” Angel said as they passed the small exhibit. “You said he’s into this stuff, right?”
“I’m telling you, the man has some sort of social disorder,” Emma said.
“You don’t want to know what I think,” Chrissy said.
“It looks like a continuation of his earlier message,” Bella said. “Must’ve been delayed. Sketchy reception.”
“And?” Emma prompted.
“He said my dad’s there. Tending the grounds of Funland.” Bella glanced at her friends as they vied for seats on the crowded bleachers. “Now that’s weird. Savage told me he had no intention of revitalizing the park.”
“Which means he’s probably going to raze it,” Georgie said. “Broken rides. Rotting game and food concessions. That place never recovered after that tornado bounced through five years ago.”
“My first year with Zeke and his Stormchasers,” Emma said. “What a rush.”
“You mean nightmare,” Angel said. “That twister caused a lot of damage.”
“But it didn’t claim any lives,” Emma said. “What can I say? I’m attracted to dark and dangerous.”
“Kind of like Bella,” Georgie said with nudge. A gentle tease, except Bella didn’t smile.
Last night she’d fallen asleep high on Savage’s kisses. A short-lived nirvana obliterated by troubling dreams. Dreams she couldn’t remember, yet they somehow darkened her spirit. She’d woken up depressed, Savage’s words ringing in her ears.
“
There are things I can’t talk about, won’t talk about
.”
What things? He’d been a cop. A big city cop. An undercover cop. She’d watched enough television, seen enough movies, read enough news reports, to imagine—at least a glimmer—of Savage’s life in Chicago. Imagination could be a powerful thing and Bella had never outgrown her ability to believe in the most outrageous possibilities. It was the quality, or quirk, that fueled her writing. It had driven her to explore ID.com. And it fostered her unimaginably horrible imaginings where Savage’s career was concerned.
The truth would prove less tragic. She was certain of it.
Whatever he was hiding or running from, Bella was determined to champion Savage. The urge to soothe his wounded aura was powerful. She’d never been attracted to a man so quickly and thoroughly. It hadn’t been love at first sight, but it hadn’t taken long to fall under his spell. Love couldn’t be far behind. Every fiber of her being screamed,
he’s the one
.
“Wow. You’ve really got it bad,” Georgie said. “Emma just took a bite out of your elephant ear and you didn’t flinch.”
“I was thinking,” Bella said. “What if my personal fairy tale is a reverse fairy tale?”
“What does that mean?” Angel asked.
“Are you going to eat that thing or what?” Emma asked. “You’ve been holding it for ten minutes.”
Bella passed the fried dough, heart swelling when her friend scooted down a bench to share the treat with Melody. For someone who’d sworn off ever having children, Emma had a special gift with kids, especially little Mel.
“Fairy tales usually consist of a damsel in distress and a knight in shining armor,” Bella went on. “Except I don’t need to be rescued. I mean, things aren’t ideal right now. Carson’s a pain in the butt, but it’s not like he’s dangerous. And I’m not being threatened or haunted by some evil force.”
“And you think Savage is?” Georgie prompted.
Emma snorted. “Dude in distress? I don’t think so.”
“Do you know something we don’t?” Angel asked.
“No. Just a feeling.”
“I don’t trust him,” Chrissy said.
“You don’t trust any man,” Bella said.
Chrissy, who was sitting one row down, looked up and over her shoulder. “I especially don’t trust a hard-ass ex-cop, who might have been dirty for all we know, with a big-ass chip on his shoulder and a boner for my sweet cousin.”
“For crying out loud, Christmas.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“So that would make you the knight in shining armor,” Georgie said to Bella. “You should spin that into a story. A fairy tale that empowers young girls. Now that’s some kickass literature.”
Bella frowned. “Language. Melody can read lips you know.”
“Her eyes are glued on the field,” Georgie said. “Look. Here come the teams.” She squeezed Melody’s shoulder to get her attention then signed,
Go, Green!
Melody beamed and signed,
Go, Green
! Then turned her attention back to the field, waving madly at her grandpa and uncle.
Emma spoke over the girl’s head to Chrissy. “The Country Cougars hit the main stage at three. You should join us. Melody would get a kick out of their choreography.”
Chrissy glared and Emma raised her hands in surrender.
Georgie and Angel traded sad looks.
Bella wanted to shake her cousin who seemed determined to punish herself by turning her back on her passion and God given talent. Chrissy claimed she couldn’t enjoy what Melody couldn’t hear. But Bella knew that wasn’t the only one reason Chrissy boycotted music. She just didn’t know details.
Desperate to perpetuate a festive mood, Bella cheered as her uncle pitched his horseshoe and landed a ringer. Her phone pinged with an incoming message and her spirits perked even more as she read yet another text from Savage.
u ok?
Knowing he considered her accident prone, her lip twitched as she typed:
No mishaps if that’s what yr asking.
When will I c u
?