Page 5 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

“Aunt Claire’s drinking the cooking wine again.”

Suzie tossed a glance over her shoulder while slowly stirring the fondue pot filled with a mixture of Emmental and Gruyère cheeses, a little kirsch, and some white cooking wine—the latter of which she’d purposely kept clear from Claire Harper. Or so she had thought.

“Precisely why, Sarah Harper, that I do not put the good stuff out for my cooking classes. Although it pains me to cook with anything but real alcohol, I will not waste expensive liquor on your aunt’s indulgences.”

“Nasty stuff!”

Claire replaced the bottle on the counter and toddled away.

Suzie watched the older woman move toward her bedroom, supposing that when one was ninety-one and holding, one could do whatever one wished.

“Sarah, honey, perhaps you auntie is ready for her nap. Why don’t you take her back to my bed to doze?”

Always the obedient niece, fifty-year-old Sarah Harper did just that. After a few minutes, she returned.

“Aunt Claire will sleep like a baby now.”

Suzie swiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Good,”

she whispered under her breath.

This Saturday’s cooking class was a disaster waiting to happen. Now that Claire was safely tucked into bed and out of harm’s way, Suzie figured they could get down to business.

She had to admit, it was a motley crew that had assembled this morning for culinary instruction—which may turn out to be more like culinary destruction….

Suzie sidled a glance toward her childhood friend, Greg Monroe, an unlikely candidate for cooking lessons. She and Greg had been two peas in a pod growing up, their parents still good friends. They had even dated at one point in their early teens—before Cliff. Greg had gone off and made a big name for himself playing professional football for a few years after college. Now, he was the head football coach and athletic director at Harbor Falls High. His new wife, Marnie—the reason for his attendance today—sat to his left. Ever since Marnie had moved to Harbor Falls and fell hopelessly in love with Greg, she and Suzie had also become fast friends.

“Ladies and gentleman.”

Suzie gave a nod to Greg, her gaze then sweeping the women in the group.

“Today we’re going to discuss the fine art of fondue. It’s a great way to use old bread, cheese and leftover wine, and a really cool way to impress a date or hubby.”

She glanced at Greg again.

“Or wife. Spouse, I guess I should say. Of course, most hubbies around here wouldn’t know what to do with a fondue if it hit them in the face on a Tuesday afternoon since it didn’t once stand on all fours, eat grass, and moo. But nevertheless, the more cultured of us in this small town might like to spice up the moment with something new. Hence, fondue.”

Suzie had no earthly idea why she was babbling. Likely had nothing to do with Brad Matthews upstairs in her blue room.

Five sets of eyes stared back at her.

“All right!”

She shoved the small fondue pots toward her students.

“You each have your own pot and can choose the kind of fondue you want to make. You can cook in broth or oil, make cheese fondue like I’ve demonstrated, or do a chocolate desert fondue. The recipes and the ingredients are in front of you. Choose your poison.”

Her students appeared hesitant.

Suzie studied Sarah Harper. She appeared confused, looking from Suzie to the fondue pot and back to Suzie again.

“Do you need some help Sarah?”

A sigh came from her lips.

“Being a true Libra,”

she began.

“I’ll need a moment before I can make a decision, weighing my choices carefully. I’m not eating meat this week so I can’t do the broth fondue. Is the chocolate made with any animal bi-products?”

Suzie screwed up her lips.

“Sarah I have no clue, but the chocolate labels are in the garbage. You can look. If it’s easier for you, then feel free to take the rest of the cooking wine and join Auntie Claire on my bed.”

Sarah seemed to ponder that idea too. “But—”

“I don’t know,”

Suzie said quickly, figuring that whatever question Sarah Harper asked, Suzie would not know the answer. She turned toward Greg, praying for safer territory.

“How are things coming over here?”

Greg and Marnie were oblivious. They leaned closer together and mumbled over their choices, finally choosing chocolate with lush strawberries for dipping. Suzie should have known. The stuff of love. Her attention then turned to Bets Martin, still home on a pregnancy leave from the real estate office, who had appeared to have had talked the fondue choices over with her partner, very young and just-wed Candi Burns. The two of them decided to do cheese.

“Suzie, one question.”

She turned and smiled.

“Sure Greg, what’s up?”

He grinned one of those half-sideways grins that she’d learned long ago meant trouble. Damn. She was not in any mood for any of his shenanigans today.

“Well, Ms. Cookie. I must know. What the hell happened to your head?”

Suzie’s hand flew up to the bruising bump above her right temple. “Oh!”

She felt her cheeks turn hot. This discussion was the last thing she needed, or wanted, this morning.

“Oh! Well, silly me. Um. Yesterday, I was doing some planting.”

She turned to the rest of the group.

“Did you all see my new hostas on the lake side of the house? Well, I got carried away and stepped back on a shovel and clumsy old me, it flew back and hit me upside the head.”

They all stared like she had three heads or something. It wasn’t that big of a bump.

“Suzie Hart, you don’t have a clumsy bone in your body.”

Greg grinned again. Damn him. Did he know something?

“Well, ha! Yesterday, I guess I did.”

She waved him off.

“You guys get to work. I’ll float around and will be here if you need help.”

She believed in learning by doing and wasn’t about to guide these adults step-by-step through the process. Mistakes made were lessons learned, in her book. Failures make for better cooks. They would do it right the next time.

And anything to get them off the subject of her head was fine by her.

“Oh, Suzie. Your flame went out under your pot.”

Suzie looked toward where Sarah pointed.

“Darn. You’re right.”

The little canned flame under the fondue pot had been difficult to light earlier. Maybe it was out of juice. Or perhaps it just needed re-lit. She reached for the fireplace lighter she had used earlier and snap-snap-snapped it but no spark. “Darn it.”

“I think that one’s done for,”

Greg remarked.

Scowling, Suzie bent to inspect the non-flame again. With her lip tucked between her teeth, hands on hips, she rose to assess the situation.

“Surely I have another lighter,”

she said under her breath. After rummaging around in a nearby utility drawer, she finally found a small one. Bending again, she pulled the can-o-flame from under the fondue pot and struggled with the snap-snap-snap of the trigger to ignite a flame.

She looked up. All eyes were still on her.

“Never mind about me, you all go on with your ingredients. When you’re ready, we’ll light your fires.”

She bent to fiddle once more with the lighter.

“Darn thing.”

She snap-snapped. No luck.

“Mind if I try?”

The voice startled her. She rose to find herself face-to-face with a very nice black t-shirt covered chest—a chest that she knew all too well—and then gazed up into an intoxicating set of deep brown eyes.

Brad. Hells bells. “Huh?”

She licked her lips.

“Mind if I try lighting your flame?”

Greg guffawed.

Suzie swallowed. “Um.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Brad removed the lighter from of her hand. Five pairs of eyes were stuck like glue to her. She could feel them, each and every one, and whipped back to face them.

“Are you all going to make fondue or what?”

Five sets of hands scrambled to grab something, hastily assembling their ingredients.

Brad gave Suzie a wink and then bent to fiddle with the lighter.

“Fondue is the greatest foodie invention for decades, in my opinion,”

he said.

“Makes use of leftovers and hell, anything with wine is good right?”

Within a few seconds, he lit the flame, carefully moved it back under the fondue pot, and handed the lighter back to Suzie.

“There, that should do it.”

She managed a half-smile.

“Um, thanks.”

Brad peered into the pot of cheese and then picked up a whisk off the counter. “May I?”

Suzie waved toward the fondue pot.

“Of course.”

He grinned.

“One of the keys to a good fondue,”

he began, glancing toward the group.

“is in the whisking of the cheese and wine mixture.”

With several rapid flicks of his wrist he managed to whip the cheese and wine into a batter-like consistency. Suzie couldn’t help but notice the sinews of his forearm and wrist and the firm grasp of his long fingers on the whisk. Her gaze traveled up from his wrist, to his forearm, past his elbow to rock-hard biceps—which then led to strong shoulders and his also-muscled and quite sexy chest.

She swallowed. Sighed. And dropped her gaze to his hands again.

Smoothing. Whisking. Kneading her….

Whoa.

A flush of heat snaked up the sides of her neck and settled on her cheeks. Great.

“Suzette?”

She glanced up.

Brad grinned and handed her the whisk.

“I’ll leave you to your class now.”

“Um. Oh. Thank you.”

She turned to her students, each of whom were staring back at her with blank expressions.

“Um, so, Mr. Matthews is a guest here at Sweet Hart Inn this weekend and well, as you can probably tell, he knows his way around a kitchen and other things… I mean, he’s a chef, so…”

She turned back to Brad, hopefully pleading with her eyes to get the hell out of her kitchen! Why could she not speak coherently around him?

She continued.

“We appreciate your time, Chef. I’m sure my students will all benefit from your hands, er, whisking demonstration, er, motions, whatever. And, the lighting of the flame thing.”

Holy cow. What is wrong with me?

Brad dipped his head with a devilish grin, leaning slightly toward her, and whispered.

“Always ready to light your flame, ma’am.”

With another wink, he edged out of the room.

Suzie’s jaw dropped.

For a moment, no one moved. Then collectively, every woman in the room sighed.

On the heels of that collective exhale, Greg released a loud cackle.

“Looks like our Suzie’s got herself a boyfriend.”

She spun toward Greg.

“I most certainly do not!”

“Methinks one protests too loudly and quickly.”

“That’s ridiculous. He’s a guest. And he just happens to be a chef. That’s all.”

Greg cleared his throat and gave Marnie a side-eye glance.

“Well then tell me, Ms. Cookie. I’m curious about just one thing. That bump on your head have anything to do with the shiner over his left eye? You guys been touching toes or something?”

He belly-laughed as he spat out the words.

Marnie side-armed her husband in the gut.

Suzie picked up a strawberry and threw it. She missed his open mouth by a mile.

****

Brad sat on his Harley, the engine rumbling, and glanced back up the hill to the inn, where he’d just left Suzie—a slightly flabbergasted Suzie, he might add. Smiling at that, liking that she obviously cared enough to get flustered, he backed around and headed his bike out her drive and toward Harbor Falls. Mentally, he ticked off today’s to-do list—it was going to be a busy day for a Saturday.

He had another appointment with James at his office downtown. The bank holding the note on the lodge had apparently accepted his offer, but James had written a couple of contingencies into the contract regarding the inspection and appraisal, so they had some work to do there. Brad also needed to locate an inspector.

Those were the first two things on his list.

He had an initial appointment with a contractor set up for one o’clock, a stop down at city hall to check on permits and the like—he had to do that before they closed at noon—and after that, a meeting the town planner James had mentioned to him yesterday. He’d been busy making calls all morning.

After all, if he planned to live and work in Harbor Falls, he wanted to contribute to the community, and he wanted to know what kind of future this community was looking at. If this new business of his could play a role in boosting the small town’s economy, he wanted to do it right.

All good things, in his book. A thrill of excitement about his pending future zipped through him as he sped along Lake Road heading toward town. Things might not have ended on the best note with Suzie last night, but this morning he could see the confusion, and the desire, in her eyes. All he needed to do now was to convince her that he was the right man for her, and that she was exactly the right woman for him.

Things were looking up.

****

Suzie made one last swipe at the cooking island and glanced about. The kitchen was back in order. Finally. Bread crumbs swept away. Cheese and chocolate drips wiped clean. Every one of her students was sent home with a plastic container of their fondue-of-choice and dippers du jour.

What a day.

Even her bones ached.

She was ready for more bubble therapy but that was not happening for a while yet.

She glanced at her kitchen wall clock, a retroversion of a black cat with a swinging tail, silhouetted against her yellow walls, ticking off the seconds.

Four-forty-three.

“Hell’s bells.”

The town meeting was at five. She needed to get moving.

No time to change, but she did manage a quick look in the bathroom mirror and frowned at her face that started out the day with make-up. She pulled her long hair into some semblance of a ponytail and headed for the back door. At the last second she paused at her bedroom full-length mirror and took in her reflection.

Ugh.

She had a little height—that helped. And at thirty-four she supposed she wasn’t too pudgy. Her snug jeans fit nicely at her hips and she still had a hint of a waist. At least she wasn’t top-heavy and didn’t look dowdy. She hated dowdy. She leaned closer. Her complexion was nice. Pale and clear skin, a smattering of freckles, no age blemishes. Hair. Still long and thick and….

She was still five years older than Brad.

Ugh.

She turned and studied herself back and front for a moment longer. Could Brad really be interested in her? Did she have what it takes? Him being a younger man and all? It didn’t bother her eighteen months ago.

Or him.

Did it?

Forget about it, Suzie.

But—was she interested? She hated to admit it, but she was. Darned hard to forget those blissful two months she spent in his arms. She had to admit the memories of their nights together warmed her on cold lonely nights this past winter.

And she still got hot every time he was near. Like this morning. Damn him for interrupting her cooking class and setting her cheeks on fire.

Could she even consider it?

Was she really the reason he came back? To get back together? Permanently?

What other reason could there be?

The chime of her grandfather clock signaled five o’clock. She raced out the bedroom door and stumbled down her back steps. Lucky for her the antique was permanently set ten minutes fast. Although she had tried, there was nothing she could do to set it right. Most days it worked to her advantage. Like now.

Her Mazda sat pointed toward the road. She slipped inside and pushed the key button to start the engine. Brad’s bike was no longer parked on the gravel lane. She’d not seen him since his fondue demonstration, which was fine. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with him. Yet.

Maybe he’d realized that.

Early that morning he’d been in and out of the house, making calls from her front porch. Business, he’d said, when she’d laid out coffee and muffins. He’d grabbed a to-go cup, filled it to the brim with her special blend, plucked up two fresh-baked signature muffins, and headed back out to the porch rocker—a spot that he had apparently claimed as his temporary office.

She had to wonder what kind of business Brad Matthews had in Harbor Falls. Besides her, that is. But nevertheless, she’d think about that later. She was late for the town meeting. Luckily, Harbor Falls’ town hall was only seven and a half minutes away, if one drove the speed limit.

Which she did. Of course. Usually.

The meeting this evening was one in a series to discuss the natural progression of Harbor Falls’ growth. Most of the town residents were for development and job security. They wanted the factory to come to town. Others wanted to keep Harbor Falls as it was—a replica of Mayberry R.F.D. Suzie found herself somewhere in the middle. Although, she was all for doing whatever was needed to keep the town’s economy stable, she felt the goal could be accomplished by successfully revitalizing Harbor Falls’ downtown business district, which was definitely on the upswing the past couple of years. Making good with what was already here, rather than leveling prime woods outside of town to build big box stores or adding an industrial park, made sense to her.

She favored preservation and she valued history. She was a strong proponent for the respectful renewal of their quaint downtown and the surrounding lake and mountain areas, and firmly believed preserving the past would be the key to bringing more visitors and shoppers into their town.

She, like many others, didn’t want Harbor Falls to become another strip mall destination shopping site—like in some of the mountain towns in Tennessee. Although she liked to shop at malls as much as anyone, she couldn’t imagine living with one down the street. She wanted her little mountain town to stay the same—just be more economically sound.

The Mayor and the Town Council had been meeting with local committee members, town planners, business developers, and consultants over the past year. Tonight, the topic was on the local economy and how to keep Harbor Falls alive and vital for future generations.

Suzie rushed into the room and fell into an empty back row seat. Glancing about the filled and busy room, she searched to see who all was there. Greg and Marnie sat several seats down to her right. James Martin to her left. Her friend Nora Patterson, who owned Nora’s Novel Niche, sat in front. Nora was a steadfast proponent of downtown preservation. Her father had owned the bookstore there for years, before Nora took it over.

Suzie’s cousins, Gracie and Sydney, were positioned near the front of the room. Both small business owners, they were huge supporters of the downtown business area too. Sydney owned the local bakery and Gracie had a boutique shop. Eliza Kelley, who owned The Trading Post, sat several seats down from them. Finally, she spied old Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, whom she needed to avoid like the plague if possible, across the room.

A warm body sat down next to her.

She glanced at the late comer as Mayor Harold Cunningham hammered the gavel on a wooden podium, on which a poster was tacked that read, Support Local Merchants. Save Harbor Falls’ Trees and Forests! Simultaneously, she caught a hint of a familiar men’s cologne and turned to an eye toward that warm body and spied a sexy black t-shirt.

Brad leaned close.

“Promises to be an interesting evening, huh?”

Taken aback, she nodded.

“Could be, I suppose. I’m just here for the info.”

Brad cocked his head.

“I hear there could be a hot topic on the agenda.”

Her interest piqued, she stared.

“Oh? And how would you know that? You’ve been in town all of what…?”

she glanced at her watch.

“Twenty-one hours?”

He shrugged and smiled.

“I get around.”

I bet. Suzie turned toward Harold Cunningham who introduced the council’s recently hired town planner consultant. He appeared a slimy fellow and she didn’t like the looks of him at all. Of course, looks could be deceiving. She’d reserve judgement until she heard what he had to say.

The man had a narrow chicken face and his round, wire-rimmed glasses tilted on the end of his nose as he looked down at everyone. She’d seen the man around town. Poking in and out of stores. Asking questions. He even came to see her once at the inn. He was probably an okay guy but his questions were a little alarming—at least to her. She wasn’t quite sure what his role or task was in all of this. Guess she’d find out tonight.

He droned on about local economy and the employment rate. He mentioned the necessity to capitalize on Harbor Falls’ natural resources, its people, and their talents. He stressed the needs of the community. He ranted about positive growth, keeping Harbor Falls green, and the strong revitalization of downtown. All things they’d heard before.

Brad leaned closer, his elbows propped on his knees, listening intently. She glanced sideways at him, catching a new-found sparkle in his eye. For a moment, she studied his profile, and then the droning dragged her away.

The chicken-beaked consultant continued, this time with dire news. New threats to the economy. The drop-out rate. Unemployment. Loss of population in the town. Young people moving to the cities for jobs. No commerce to support college graduates. No local industry to support entry-level workers.

The bottom line: arts and crafts, mom and pop, home-spun and home-grown, and Mother Nature just wouldn’t cut it anymore. Harbor Falls needed more.

Huh?

Suzie screwed up her face and glanced around her. She was mom and pop, er, well, mom and was doing okay. Right? What was this man saying? By the looks on the faces around her, she wasn’t the only one concerned.

Greg cleared his throat and stood. With a confidence gained from his years playing football, he commanded quite a presence and demanded attention when he wanted it. Harold acknowledged him.

“So let me make sure I understand,”

he nodded toward the consultant.

“you’re saying that Harbor Falls needs to make changes? That the downtown isn’t going to make it? That we need more? More of what?”

The older man nodded.

“Your economy is gradually dwindling. To be honest, it needs a swift kick in the butt. Your young people need to work and there are no jobs. If jobs don’t come here within the next five years, your beautiful little town could become a ghost town.”

Small gasps went up in the crowd.

Greg countered.

“But our downtown is booming. My wife recently opened a store that outdid itself this past month. Business is getting better all the time. She just hired a new part-time worker yesterday.”

The consultant stepped around the podium and looked toward Marnie.

“Yes, I understand. I’ve spoken at length with your wife, Mr. Monroe. The fact of the matter is, as successful as her new baby boutique business appears to be today, she’ll likely close shop within two years. I predict she won’t make it.”

Marnie stood up.

“Wait a minute. Babies are always a good business. If there is one thing we can count on in life people keep having babies and people need affordable clothing for those children. I defy you to rubber stamp the demise of my business. I seriously question your ability to…”

Suzie watched Greg lay a hand on his wife’s forearm. She stopped talking and looked to her husband, then back toward the Mayor.

“I just want to say—for the record—that I disagree with the assessment of your so-called, narrow-minded, seriously off-target, and quite a bit rude, consultant.”

She planted herself back in her chair seat and tugged her husband’s sleeve to join her.

The consultant paused to glance about the room.

“If babies are such a hot commodity, Mrs. Monroe, then why is the school board considering closing the elementary school due to lack of students?”

He paused for a moment, then said.

“If I could continue…”

Suzie registered the scowl on Marnie’s face. Uh-oh. Not a happy face.

“As I look out on this crowd, I see a number of small business owners here,”

he spanned the crowd.

“In addition to the lovely and persistent Ms. Monroe, I’ve interviewed most. Each of you will be hard-pressed to make a profit in the next three-to-five years.”

The consultant’s gaze landed on Suzie and stuck.

Suzie swallowed and glared back.

“For example, the Sweet Hart Inn.”

Swallowing harder and biting her tongue, Suzie countered his gape. “Go on,”

she urged. I can’t wait to hear this.

He nodded.

“Like most of the businesses in Harbor Falls, the focus is too broad. You need targeted marketing and branding. You need a business plan with gumption, and you should be focusing your efforts and energy on the parts of the business that are providing you a proven return on your investment, instead of dallying thing such as cooking classes. You should, perhaps, be focusing on wedding and honeymoon packages and do away with the bed and breakfast and cooking themes altogether. You should be—”

Themes? She’d heard enough.

“Ridiculous!”

Suzie jumped up and shouted the word before she realized it. She didn’t care. It was about time someone truly spoke up defending their little community.

“The sheer fact that you are recommending my inn as a honeymoon destination location shows how little you know about me, my business, or this town. You just lost all credibility with me, sir. How dare you come in here and tell us we are doomed! Or tell me what my heart-and-soul business should be made up of.”

“Successful businesses are not run by the heart-and-soul, Ms. Hart.”

She bristled.

“The hell they aren’t! Small business is all about heart-and-soul, Mr. Consultant. That’s who we are here. The residents of Harbor Falls aren’t about to give up, or to change, on your advice. We persevere. We work hard. We live our dreams. We don’t give up. And we don’t change our business models on the advice of some outside town planner consultant who has no earthly idea who we are or what we are about!”

Silence fell over the crowd, then a slow and sporadic applause erupted throughout the town hall. Suzie jerked her shoulders back and stood a little taller. It felt darn good to stand up for something she believed in.

A lone voice came from the back of the room.

“That may be well and good, however, perseverance doesn’t pay the bills, Suzie.”

“Wait a minute.”

She glanced behind her. Who was that.

“Most of us are small business owners. We’re not struggling, are we?”

Another blanket of silence fell over the crowd as a slow realization seemed to set in.

“My daughter went off to college and never came back.”

The response edged up from someone to her right.

“Tired of living from check-to-check, wondering each month which bill I might have to wait to pay,”

squeaked out another.

“The kids say there is nothing here for them,”

came one more.

Suzie crossed her arms.

“I don’t get it.”

She set her gaze on several faces.

“Harbor Falls is beautiful! We have so much to offer. Nothing for the kids? We have a mountain and a lake and….”

“That’s great for recreation, Suzie,”

Harold interjected.

“The kids want real jobs. They go away to college and get their degrees, see the world, and don’t want to come back and work in a craft shop, stock shelves at Ralph’s, wait tables at the diner, or work at the marina.”

A cacophony of voices burst forth. Heads bobbed back and forth discussing the situation with their neighbors.

“But we sure as hell don’t need a damn factory to ruin our beautiful landscape!”

“My kid wants a job at Valu-Mart. Why can’t we have a Valu-Mart?”

Nora Patterson shot to her feet.

“Because those of us who love downtown Harbor Falls will lose our businesses. That is why we don’t need a Valu-Mart! My bookstore would be doomed with a Valu-Mart on the outskirts of town. So would Sydney’s bakery, and Eliza’s Trading Post, and Gracie’s gift shop, just to name a few.”

Nora continued.

“And we’ve worked so hard to rebuild our downtown. We got that grant money. And people shop here. It’s on the tourist route. Why, didn’t we have a bus load of senior citizens here last week from Ohio?”

Oh, hell, Suzie thought. What is happening? She searched the room. Where was…? “Eliza!”

She pointed to the owner of the Trading Post, who had been actively strategizing to increase marketing tactics to lure more consumers to Harbor Falls.

“Tell them about the Harbor Falls Market Square project and what a success that was this past fall. The website. The marketing strategy. The entrepreneurship project and the plans for this coming fall. We are not doomed. We are actively taking steps to bring tourists and buyers to the downtown area. Eliza, please tell them!”

Eliza stood halfway up when Harold Cunningham cracked his gavel on the podium. She sat back down with a frown.

“Another time.”

He pounded the gavel again with a rat-a-tat-tat.

“If I could have your attention. Attention please!”

The rampant discord in the crowd abruptly stopped and everyone turned the mayor’s way. How was old Harold going to handle this one? Elections were around the corner and if he stepped too much one way or the other, he could either lose his job or be set for another term.

“Folks let’s be reasonable here,”

he said slowly.

“There may be a solution, so let’s hear some alternatives. We’re not finished yet. James?”

The crowd turned to James Martin. Suzie visibly noticed Brad shift in his seat. She had been so caught up in all of the action she’d almost forgotten he was there. No. How she could forget the smell of his after-shave wafting toward her and the heat of his thigh searing against hers? Suddenly she was drawn to him like flies on honey. Leaning his way, she resisted the urge to lay her hand on his thigh, and whispered.

“Wonder what this is all about?”

Brad shifted again, angling toward her. What was it about him that turned her on so much? Despite the fact that he spilled over with decadent sex appeal?

James cleared his throat and rose. Reluctantly, Suzie skidded her gaze away from Brad and focused on the Realtor.

“I know all of this is a touchy subject,”

James said.

“but I think there are alternatives. I’ve been working with our consultant and others, and perhaps we can come to an agreement about the kind of development that could benefit Harbor Falls’ economy. Suzie is right, our natural resources are a draw, despite what we’ve heard here tonight. The lake. The mountains. Tourists do come for recreation, to buy local crafts, and the like.”

An angry male voice bubbled up from the back of the room.

“Ah, hell, James. You just want to sell land. You don’t care about the economy.”

James’s face turned all but purple.

“I want what is good for our town and the people who live in it. I think we can invest in projects that can do just that. We have to be picky and plan for the kind of growth we want intentionally. For example, we have done a great job revitalizing downtown and I differ slightly in opinion from what our consultant says.”

He glanced to his right at Eliza Kelley.

Suzie smiled. She’d known when Eliza had stayed at the inn a few months ago while she was finding a home in Harbor Falls that something was up between her and James. The way he looked at her just now confirmed that. Eliza’s Trading Post was taking off. Business was good. And Suzie would bet nickels that Eliza would be hard-pressed to admit her new business wasn’t a good thing.

“So, I’d like to elevate this conversation and introduce someone who can explain a new project. I think you will like this. It will bring jobs and support the local economy, as well as revitalize a bit of our past. Mr. Matthews has a plan. Folks, meet Brad Matthews.”

Suzie’s breath caught in her throat. What the hell?

Brad rose.

“Thanks, James.”

Suzie watched him shove his hands into his jean pockets, then toss a nervous glance her way. He looked…uncertain. And that was an anomaly for Brad Matthews, who was the most self-assured man she’d ever met. He faced the crowd.

“I’ll be brief. One solution, it appears to me, is to capitalize on what you already have. The downtown is great. Tourists ride in here every week on buses. They stay for a couple of hours, buy lunch, a few souvenirs, and then leave. I think one way to boost the economy is to provide quality lodging services so tourists will stay longer.”

Suzie sat straighter in her chair, her back ramrod stiff. Her attention was definitely at high-pique with this particular statement. Harbor Falls had quality lodging services. The Sweet Hart Inn!

He didn’t look at her. Coward.

“Old Falls Lodge was a boon in its heyday. People came in droves to experience the mountains, stay the week, and unwind. They would plan their entire vacations around the availability at the lodge. Since the bankruptcy more than thirty-five years ago, the Lodge has sat abandoned, empty and virtually unused.”

Suzie scooted to the edge of her seat, her face growing warm. What in the hell was he proposing? The room was silent.

He measured the crowd.

“Look, I know I am an outsider. The residents of Harbor Falls don’t know me from Adam but I’ve been studying your town for a while and I’ve decided to move here.”

Abruptly, Suzie broke into a choking fit. Someone behind her reached over to pat her hard on the back. She glanced to her rear through watery eyes and nodded her thanks to Geraldine and then swung her gaze around to Brad.

“Sorry, please go on. I find this information extremely interesting.”

She glared, not entirely certain she understood the look he shot back.

Brad returned to the crowd.

“I’ve purchased the old lodge.”

A twitter of conversation broke in the room.

“And the surrounding sixty-two acres. I’ve been meeting with local contractors, zoning, utilities, and the town council. I am prepared to put a lot of money into the local economy in two ways. One, by providing jobs for locals in the construction of a new mega-hotel, restaurant and spa on the old Falls Lake Lodge site. Two, once it is finished, providing a hefty number of jobs required to run the business, in the areas of hotel management, culinary arts, recreation and relaxation, housekeeping, maintenance and such. I believe, and your town council agrees, that this is a viable compromise to the situation. The ‘kick in the butt’ as the consultant so eloquently put it.”

A palpable pause settled about the still room. Suzie didn’t know what to think or say. An ache landed in the pit of her stomach—the kind of ache she usually only got when she knew something was off-kilter. She wanted to stand but wasn’t sure her legs worked.

“You’re tearing down old Falls Lodge?”

Mr. Wilson feebly raised his hand and uttered the words.

“My wife and I were married there sixty years ago last month.”

Suzie’s heart fell. The lodge was old and abandoned but it was a part of their history. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were old, too. Did that mean you just got rid of them? No.

“Unfortunately, the lodge will have to go.”

Brad took a deep breath, his face as hard as stone.

“And part of the mountain. Not much, because we want to preserve what we can, but we need more level land.”

Finally, Suzie found her land legs and rose. Her jaw tight and her fists clenched, she directed to Brad.

“Surely you are not serious, Brad. You’re going to level our lodge and blow up our mountain? Do you want to suck the lake dry, too?”

Brad fixed his gaze on her and she fixed hers right back.

Yes I am angry. Damn angry. Not only was Brad ruining part of Harbor Falls’ history, but he was single-handedly, albeit perhaps unknowingly, destroying her business as well. How in the hell would Sweet Hart Inn size up against the likes of a mega-hotel and spa?

It wouldn’t. In the matter of a few minutes, her fling had managed to kill everything she’d worked so hard for the past year and longer. She wasn’t about to sit around and let that happen. Not for one moment. She had to set him straight.

Now.