Page 29 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

On Friday, Mary Lou swallowed hard and stepped up to Suzie’s porch. The yellow clapboard Victorian home sat off the road on the outskirts of Harbor Falls. The back of her property butted right up to Old Falls Lake. It was a lovely place; which Suzie had worked hard to turn into a profitable bed and breakfast. Mary Lou had only been to the Sweet Hart Inn one time before when her mother bought her to one of Suzie’s Saturday cooking classes, telling her that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.

Suzie believed that too, she knew. It was the basic premise of Sweet Hart Inn.

Her mother was always pushing her to get a man. Mary Lou hadn’t really been in all that much of a hurry. Sure, as her mother had repeatedly told her, it was great to have a partner to grow old with—but somehow, she wanted that partner to be exciting and stimulating. She didn’t want just any guy who would bring in a paycheck and take care of her. Predictable. She wanted a man in her life who was perhaps a bit unpredictable and didn’t care if she threw herself into her work or a project. Unlike her mother, who was perfectly content to be the kept woman, so to speak. Of course, her mother had her medical issues, and Mary Lou understood that. It was fine for her—her father took care of them both very well—but she had always wanted, well, more.

Inside, she was dying to break out of her introverted cocoon and fly like a butterfly but something—something she wasn’t sure what—always held her back.

Unfortunately, she flunked the Saturday cooking class that day due to her souffle falling flatter than a fritter when she took it out of the oven. At that moment, her mother deemed her a relationship flunky too, and Mary Lou let her just think all was lost. That was easier.

Then Barry Phillips came calling and Mary Lou just sort of let it happen. Her mother was thrilled.

Suzie said souffles were the hardest thing in the world to make and that you had to work up to it. She’d suggested that Mary Lou take her beginning series of classes, you know, things like meatloaf and spaghetti sauce and tuna noodle casserole, but her mother said that was a waste of good money—every woman knew how to make meatloaf, inherently, and no woman worth her salt had to take a lesson to learn how.

Mary Lou guessed she wasn’t worth her salt, and now, she wondered again, while staring at the brass knocker on Suzie’s newly painted red front door, why in the world Suzie Hart had invited her, of all people, to help her work on her new cookbook?

That was the million-dollar question.

But the lure of cash for the day won her over since she and Barry were now saving for the honeymoon he had planned in Niagara Falls.

She’d tried to tell him that couples didn’t go to Niagara Falls any more, that they went to destination wedding places like Cancun or Cabo or someplace exotic like Bali, or even Alaska for God’s sake, but he insisted because his father had taken his mother to Niagara Falls for their honeymoon. And, well, Mr. Phillips swore that from that day on, his wife was like putty in his hands.

And that, Barry had said while staring into her eyes, was exactly how he wanted her.

Putty. In his hands.

Oh.

Mary Lou wasn’t sure yet about being putty in Barry’s hands. Oh, he was stable and a provider and a halfway decent kisser, but….

Never mind. She didn’t want to think about that today. Or ponder going any further than kissing with Barry. They hadn’t…well, she was holding him off for sex, telling him she wanted to wait for her wedding night. She’d even gone so far as to hint that she was a virgin, citing she was traditional and old-fashioned, like his mother.

Barry was in love with his mother and held her in the highest regard. He backed off.

Of course, Mary Lou had had sex in the past. She wasn’t a prude or a virgin—she’d been to college, of course, and had spread her wings a bit there—so how she was going to pull off the wedding night, she wasn’t certain.

Mary Lou shook herself. To be honest, she had to wonder why she had agreed to marry him in the first place and had recently entertained notions of breaking off the engagement. But who else in Harbor Falls was right for her? No one, likely. She just wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with Barry.

She focused on the red door in front of her, instead.

“All right. You are here. Go for it.”

Mary Lou dismissed her wayward thoughts and rapped the knocker on the heavy wooden door.

“Perhaps this is a steppingstone to breaking out of your cocoon, Mary Lou.”

The door swung open before she could put her trembling fist back to her side.

“Mary Lou!”

In one motion, Suzie grasped her by the arm and pulled her inside the front entry to the inn.

“I’m so happy you could come. I cannot tell you how important this is to me.”

Mary Lou still had to wonder and opened her mouth to ask, but Suzie went on, hooking her arms in hers.

“You see, I’ve been waiting to try out some of my new ideas on someone who isn’t used to my cooking. Oh, I know that you’ve taken one of my cooking classes, but that really didn’t count because, well…”

“You don’t have to say it, Suzie. I understand. I suck at cooking.”

“No!”

Suzie squared her body in front of Mary Lou and looked her in the eyes.

“That is perfect because I want to make sure my meal plans make sense to the novice cook, see? My new cookbook, Perfectly Matched, is all about meal planning, recipes, and pairing foods together. I want to make it useful for everyone. So…”

“So, you picked me?”

Suzie smiled and Mary Lou relaxed a bit. Honestly, she didn’t know why she was nervous about this anyway. Suzie always put everyone at ease within seconds. She could already feel the tension from her shoulders melting.

“Tea?”

Suzie started for the kitchen.

“Let’s work in here. I have the usual. Earl Grey, a lovely orange blend, and a spicy Chai.”

She turned and motioned for Mary Lou.

“Or do you prefer coffee? I have cinnamon flavored brewing.”

“Earl Grey would be lovely,”

Mary Lou told her.

Suzie rattled on and Mary Lou found her feet. She moved into the kitchen and told herself that she was going to enjoy her day. After all, Suzie Hart Matthews was Harbor Falls’ hostess with the mostest. Surely, she could pick up some pointers as well as have a bit of fun.

Right?

She might even learn some cooking tips to try out the next time Barry came over. Frowning at that thought, she settled on a barstool. Suzie set a steaming cup of Earl Grey in front of her.

****

Nash reached out and shook Brad Matthews’ hand, and then nodded to the rest of the group. His band and a couple of his crew, his manager Rick, and a few members of the Harbor Falls hospital board stared back at him.

“I appreciate your letting me come by like this,”

he told them.

“I wanted to see first-hand what your needs were here at the hospital.”

Once the dust had settled in his head about doing the extra show, Nash decided he and the band would head to Harbor Falls right after the Asheville gig and visit the hospital the next morning. Rick had gotten in touch with his contact, who had in turn put them in touch with Brad Matthews, the hospital board chair and the organizer of the benefit event. Nash was glad he’d taken this extra time with the people in this small town. The area was lovely and while much different from his southern home, held the same ambiance as where he grew up. Small town was small town, any way you wrapped it up.

Brad stepped closer, still gripping Nash’s hand.

“I can’t tell you how much we appreciate it, Nash. Not only your coming by today, but also your generous donation to the new children’s wing. That, and the concert proceeds, will put us over the top of our goal. We’re overwhelmed with your gratitude.”

Nash nodded and waited a minute to reply. He stared off for a few seconds then looked back to Brad.

“I spent a few long days with my youngest brother in the hospital,”

he told them.

“He was a senior in high school but still a kid. So, this is close to my heart.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Nash.”

Nash dropped his chin.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He cleared his throat and glanced off.

“Enough said. We thank you.”

Nash gave him a nod. Looking back to his manager, he said.

“Well, we better get back to the bus and then get settled for the rest of the day. Tomorrow we’ll set up and get ready for the event. I have a rare night off tonight and I plan to find some dinner, catch up on a little sleep, and maybe watch some television.”

He turned to Brad then.

“So, it’s fine to park the bus up at your lodge? You think there will be any difficulty getting up the mountain?”

Brad shook his head.

“No. Shouldn’t be. The roads are clear, and we get tourist busses up there all the time. The parking lot will accommodate the bus just fine. If I’m not up there when you arrive, ask for Shelley. She’s my sister-in-law and she’ll guide you to the best place to park. I know you want something secluded.”

He scanned the others.

“Shelley can also get you guys and the rest of the crew settled in your rooms.”

Then to Nash, he directed.

“You’re still staying in the bus, right? We have a great suite with your name on it, if you want it.”

Nash would give anything to sleep in a real bed but not tonight. He was getting to the point where he was simply peopled out—too many crowds for months—and he needed the space.

“I’m good on the bus,”

he told Brad.

“But if I change my mind, I’ll let you or Shelley know.”

“Of course, Nash. You have my cell number.”

“I do, and you have mine. Thank you for everything.”

He glanced to Rick.

“Remember that name, Shelley. My brain is a sieve these days.”

He laughed and then stepped back.

“We’ll get out of your hair now.”

But Brad stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

“Nash, look. I know you want your privacy but if you or your band want a great meal, check in with Shelley. We have the best prime rib in the area and I’m sure we can round it out with a meal to please everyone. It’s on us.”

Now that sounded good and Nash was tempted. He glanced to the boys.

“Sounds good boss.”

“Yeah, we’re game.”

“Can’t beat free prime rib, Nash.”

He chuckled.

“I’m pretty sure the boys may take you up on that deal, Brad. That’s mighty generous of you. Not sure of my plans yet, though—I’m thinking more of getting lost in a six pack, the TV, and my thoughts.”

He grinned.

“Know what I mean? But thank you.”

Brad nodded.

“Understood. But if you change your mind, I know of a very quiet place and the food is good too. It’s called my back deck. Oh, and there is beer.”

Nash smiled and gave Brad a nod. This guy was the real deal. He turned again.

“Well, let’s head toward that tin can we call home.”

They left and Nash felt good about the past couple of hours. He’d made more money this past year than he’d ever hoped to make. Why not put some of it to good use to help the children of this town? No reason not to.

****

“You know, Mary Lou, you really are a pretty girl.”

Mary Lou felt the heat rush to her cheeks and glanced away. She doodled with a pencil on the yellow legal pad where she’d been helping Suzie with meal plans and rating the selections. It had been a good day so far and she felt comfortable with Suzie as they talked about everything under the sun—including men and her upcoming marriage. It felt like girl-talk and she’d not had that in a long time. In fact, she was enjoying being with Suzie.

“I guess I’m okay.”

Suzie lifted Mary Lou’s chin and brushed a stray strand of hair back from her forehead.

“I bet Barry thinks you are pretty.”

“He says I’m durable.”

She looked straight into Suzie’s eyes and in return, Suzie made an awful face.

“If you tell me he also said you have good hips for breeding, I’m going to leave here right now, go find that homely carpenter, and kick him where the sun doesn’t shine. What an awful thing to say!”

Mary Lou chuckled at the thought of Suzie kicking Barry’s skinny ass.

“Well, I suppose it’s true. I’m the stable housewife kind of woman, not the glamour girl.”

“Oh crap.”

Suzie rose and pulled her off the barstool until she stood.

“Who wants a glamour girl? I’m a freckled-faced, red-head with pale skin and big hips, but I’ve learned to play that up to my advantage and focus on my assets. You need an attitude adjustment. Come here.”

She tugged her toward the pantry and opened the door, then turned her body to face a full-length mirror.

“Stand up straight, Mary Lou. Pull those shoulders back.”

She did.

Suzie gathered the extra fabric in her sweatshirt at her back, causing the shirt to tighten across her more-than-ample chest and emphasize her small waist.

“You, my dear, have a perfect hour-glass figure. Men love that.”

Mary Lou looked her body up and down and scowled. For the first time ever, she observed herself in a different way.

“I always thought I was frumpy.”

“Well, you are if you wear baggy clothes like this. Honey, you need to show off this figure of yours.”

Shrugging, she replied.

“What’s the use with this face? And this mousy nest of hair.”

Sighing, Suzie looked her straight in the eyes.

“My dear Mary Lou. If the truth be told, do you want to marry Barry Phillips? Or do you want better…because honey, you can do better. You just need a little, well, sprucing. But of course, it’s up to you. If you are determined to settle for Barry the carpenter who thinks you are durable…”

Mary Lou didn’t want to answer that. Barry was stable. He had a job and owned a house. He wanted kids and he wanted to stay right here in Harbor Falls for the rest of his life. Those were all things she wanted too, weren’t they?

Weren’t they?

Who was she trying to convince? Suzie? Or herself?

“Of course, I want to marry him.”

Suzie grunted.

“You need more self-confidence and you need a new hairstyle and some makeup, and if you will let me…”

For the second time in a day, Mary Lou wondered why Suzie Hart Matthews had taken such an interest in her.

At once, a rumbling rolled through the kitchen and both women jerked to stare out the back window. Suzie moved forward and she followed.

Suzie gasped.

“Oh. My. God.”

“What?”

She pointed and Mary Lou followed the direction of her finger—and nearly passed out cold on the floor. Her head went light. Her vision blurred. “Shit,”

she said between her teeth.

“Shit is right!”

Brad, Suzie’s husband, was in the yard directing a vehicle as it moved up the side of the house and followed the drive around back. It was a dark blue bus, the kind you see on the interstate traveling into and out of Nashville. Under Brad’s guidance, the driver parked the big thing in Suzie’s backyard. In large silver script letters written across the side of the bus was the name, Nash Rhodes.

Suzie and Mary Lou watched as the vehicle slowed and stopped, the door opened, and out walked—

Both women screamed, grabbed each other, and jumped up and down right there in the middle of the kitchen.

Suzie reached up and tugged the scrunchy from Mary Lou’s hair.

“Ow! What are you doing?”

she gasped.

“Getting you presentable!”

“No!”

A million thoughts raced through Mary Lou’s head. Her hair now falling into her face, her heart pounding—

Nash Rhodes is walking up to the back of Suzie’s house!

—and all she could think of was that she needed to hide. She raced for the open pantry and ducked inside.

“I need to hide! I’m frumpy! I don’t have a waist! No makeup. Mousy hair! Shit!”

Halfway in the pantry, Mary Lou was about to panic.

Suzie grasped her shoulders and shook her.

“Dammit, woman! Get a grip!”

Then she reached up with both thumbs and forefingers and pinched her cheeks.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting some roses in your cheeks.”

Then she fluffed her hair.

“There, looks like you just rolled out of bed.”

“That’s a good thing?”

“Yes!”

“Oh.”

Next Suzie shoved a pair of sunglasses on her face.

“A trick I use when I don’t want to put on eye makeup to go to the store. Keep them on.”

The back door creaked.

Suzie gathered the extra fabric of Mary Lou’s sweatshirt in her fist and tugged her halfway out of the closet. Grinning, Suzie looked toward the door while her husband walked in.

“Hi honey!”

Suzie said.

The shadow behind him could only be the embodiment of Nash Rhodes. Mary Lou thought she would faint dead away and avoided looking his way. Her knees were on the verge of buckling and her head spun. Meeting Nash Rhodes never happened this way in her dreams. Then, she was all dolled up and had on her tight Wranglers and fancy boots, and he just couldn’t resist her.

Not like this! In sweatpants and no makeup.

Suzie’s grip on her shirt constricted her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

The shadows walked in and moved forward. Her over-stimulated brain could not comprehend a thing. But—

But she could almost smell Nash. She’d dreamed a thousand times what the man would smell like. Tobacco. Bourbon. Sweat. Sex.

Oh, be still my pounding heart.

“Hey Suze.”

Brad walked on into the kitchen and kissed his wife on the cheek.

“We’re going to leave Nash’s bus here. Last minute decision. Quieter and out of the way for him. A cab is coming to pick up the driver and take him to the lodge. Oh, hi Mary Lou.”

Then up walked Nash Rhodes, standing right beside of Brad. All six-foot-something-sexy of him, larger than life and sucking every bit of breath out of her lungs and evidently, all of the oxygen out of the room, because suddenly she could not breathe.

Lightheaded, Mary Lou eked out a weak, “Hi,”

then grasped the pantry door and leaned into it. Maybe fell into it. It swung forward and she tripped over Suzie’s feet and, in a tumble of flying mousy locks and yards of extra sweatshirt fabric, landed flat on the floor with a very unladylike oomph.

The sunglasses skidded across Suzie’s polished hardwood floor.

After a moment of dead silence, little by little, Mary Lou lifted her face.

The toes of some very expensive boots pointed right at her nose. Ostrich. She knew he always wore ostrich because it was a well-known fact in the Nash Rhodes fan circles.

Bringing her gaze up a little higher, she took in worn denim jeans, a little frayed around the ankle, and tight over the calf.

She swallowed and called herself every kind of clumsy. Stupid. Stupid. Clumsy. Plain Jane. Idiot girl. Mousy Mary Lou.

A large hand reached down, and she glanced further up.

Calloused on the pads of his fingers. She noticed that. From guitar pickin’, she was certain.

“Here, honey, let me help you up.”

Oh, shit, that voice. Smooth as chocolate and sharp as chipotle peppers. Made her heart turn over in her chest. Twice. And within a second, she lifted an awkward hand up to grasp his big ol’ warm one—it just smothered hers—and he freaking hauled her to her feet.

“Oh!”

She felt lighter than air.

She risked a lengthy look into his eyes, and he grinned that sexy, sultry, melt-your-heart Nash Rhodes grin. The one in all the posters. The one she had imagined in her daydreams and savored in her oh-so-wicked nighttime fantasies.

“You okay?” he asked.

Damn.

Then all went black and she fell again at his feet.