The Café between Pumpkin and Pie Page 13

  Jake again focused on the SUV and finished the tune-up in ten. He lowered the hood and stepped away from the vehicle.

  “Done for the day,” he called to Mac Morrison on his way out. He’d returned his tools to their proper places and swept the bay. Time to fly.

  He wasn’t physically tired, but Greg had ridden his last nerve. He disliked a man who claimed a woman without her permission. Hannah was her own person. Greg believed their childhood closeness would automatically lead to marriage. Not in the adult world.

  Jake stopped in the café before heading upstairs to Hannah’s apartment. They’d agreed to dine in. Lauren had clocked out for the day, but Dolores was still waiting tables. He asked her to take his order. The chalkboard listed the early-bird special: a cup of seafood bisque, baked jumbo shrimp, wild rice, and a slice of lemon meringue pie. “Two specials,” he decided. He remembered Hannah’s affection for cake. “Lemon meringue for me and replace the other pie with a big piece of—”

  Dolores winked at him. “Blueberry butter cake?” She recognized his dining partner.

  “Thanks.” There were a handful of customers in the café. No one he knew. So he walked to the wide front window and stared out at the street. There was a sameness about Moonbright, a day-to-day predictability and certain peace that appealed to him. Traffic flowed steadily, no evening rush hour. Those on the sidewalk waved pleasantly to one another at the end of the workday. All calming benefits of a small town.

  Moonbright had opened his heart. Hannah had too. Time meant little to their relationship. They’d set the groundwork and would grow and love together. They had much to discuss.

  Dolores came to him in a matter of minutes. She handed him a zipped carryout food warmer along with two plastic containers for the desserts. “No charge. Nan wishes you a good evening. I wish you a night to remember.”

  He gave Dolores a sizeable tip. She pressed her hand over her heart in thanks. He didn’t want to impose on the kitchen staff, so he walked back outside, around the corner, and took the exterior staircase to the second floor. The fried-fish sandwich he’d had for lunch hadn’t stuck with him. The aroma of the seafood made his mouth water and his stomach growl. He hastened his steps.

  Hannah was waiting for him in the sitting room attached to the tiny kitchen in her apartment. She set her book aside and smiled her welcome from the roll-armed sofa upholstered in brown fabric. The enticement of food drew her up and to the round café-style table. She looked fresh and cute in a peach waffle pullover and laddered jeans. Wool socks. No shoes.

  He shrugged off his leather jacket. Removed his aviators and set them on the tabletop out of the way. Together he and Hannah unloaded the carryout and plastic containers. Careful of the steaming bowls of bisque and the jumbo shrimp. The smell enticed them. They both breathed deeply.

  Hannah opened a plastic container and bounced on her toes. “Cake.” A happy sound from a hungry woman. “Thank you,” heartfelt. She nodded toward the mini-fridge. “Iced tea okay?”

  “Fine, but don’t pour mine just yet,” he said. “I smell like an oil change. Let me grab a quick shower.”

  “You expect me to hold off eating?”

  “You’d start without me?”

  “On dessert.”

  He grinned. “Be my guest.”

  She unwrapped a set of silverware, scored a fork, and dug in without him. A big bite of cake and a low moan followed him across the room. He stopped at the bathroom door, looked back, and declared, “There’s something you need to know before I forget.”

  She paused mid-bite. Set down her fork. “You look serious.”

  “I had a visitor at work today.” Jake figured someone in the area would’ve seen Greg at Morrison’s Garage. It was obvious the man hated his guts. His resentment festered. Greg would bad-mouth Jake to anyone who would listen. He sought to relay their talk to Hannah before the gossip made the rounds.

  Her gaze was questioning. “Who stopped by to see you?”

  “Your buddy Greg.”

  “What did he want?”

  “You.”

  “Oh.” She was startled. “What did you tell him?”

  “That you were my woman.” He wasn’t certain how she’d react.

  Fortunately, her response was positive and in his favor. “I rather like that, if it’s true.”

  He flattened his hand on his chest. “Heart-swear.”

  “I believe you.” She cleared her throat. “Full disclosure, I have something to share with you too.”

  “Go for it. My shower can wait.”

  She scrunched her nose. “Lauren confronted me about your sincerity this afternoon. My sister warned me off you. She swore you’d leave me and never look back.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  “I felt sorrier for her than worried for me. She has a jealous streak. Gram intervened and indicated history didn’t always repeat itself. I believe that to be true.”

  “Faith in me is good.”

  “I’ve something else as well.” She rested her elbows on the tabletop, steepled her fingers. “I’ve come to a decision. A major one for me. For us. I no longer care about the outcome of the Halloween legend. My feelings for you are stronger than any Moonbright lore. I trust and believe in us, together.”

  He whistled low. This was huge. “I like your decision.”

  “I thought you might.”

  “You’re absolutely sure?” He knew what the legend meant to the ladies of Moonbright. He didn’t want Hannah to break from tradition, not even for him. “No regrets down the road, babe?”

  “I’m positive, Jake,” she said with conviction.

  Fortune had been kind. She’d chosen him over tradition. And over her history with Greg. Relief sent him back to where she sat. He leaned down, kissed her full on the mouth. Parted lips and lots of tongue. He wished he could wrap his arms around her, pull her flush against him, but not before he’d cleaned up.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” he requested.

  She wouldn’t. She had cake.

  He stripped down in the bathroom. He’d need to locate a laundromat fairly soon. The longer he stayed in town, the more work clothes he would need. He’d noticed a Work Warehouse north of Morrison’s Garage. Advertising construction clothing, automotive uniforms and gear. He’d make a few purchases soon.

  A warm shower, fast scrub, and he toweled dry. He retrieved a fresh black T-shirt and jeans from his apartment, got dressed. Then stood at the sink and studied his reflection in the mirror. His granddad had called him scruffy, which he couldn’t deny. He wasn’t yet sure where his night with Hannah might take them. There would be kissing. Stubble abraded tender skin.

  He decided to shave. There’d be no whisker burn on his woman. His jaw was soon smooth. The ends of his hair flicked against his neck. He hadn’t cut it in years. He withdrew a short pair of scissors from his shaving kit and clicked them together. A lengthy debate.

  He had no idea what possessed him to trim off an inch, then another, up to four. The strands fell into the sink. He hadn’t worn his hair this short since high school. He wasn’t a barber, but the mirror reflected a decent attempt. He’d set up an appointment at Theodore’s Barbershop later in the week. To even the ends.

  He wasn’t sure how Hannah would receive him. She’d taken to him rough. He was still himself but looked different. More groomed and respectable. A look he could live with.

  He cleaned up the sink. Then scored a couple condoms from his shaving kit. Prepared for the night ahead. He returned to the kitchen. There he waited for Hannah to look up from her last bite of cake.

  She never met his gaze. She glanced to the side instead. He observed her closely. A sudden flash from the lenses on his aviators left him guarded. He wouldn’t have believed it, had he not seen it. The distinctive glint gave him pause.

  Hannah witnessed it too. She reacted as if in a trance. She reached across the table, pinched the bridge on his shades, and held them at eye level. She stared and stare
d into the lenses. Seconds ticked by as her gaze shifted between the sunglasses and him. Disbelievingly.

  Time stretched. Until she blinked, trembled, and her eyes misted. She set his aviators aside and a sob escaped on a hiccup. Tears fell on her cheeks.

  Jake felt helpless. He crossed to the table, pulled up a chair beside her, and drew her close. He stroked her hair, massaged the back of her neck. Comforted her. She sniffled, dabbed at her face with a napkin. Her eyes were puffy, her nose red. Her smile was watery.

  “You’re not going to believe what just happened,” she said.

  “I could guess, but you tell me.”

  She did so. “Total transparency. The lenses gleamed and mirrored my husband.”

  She’d gotten clarification, he realized. “That man would be?”

  “You, Jake. You are my future.” She explained, “On Halloween you had long hair and stubble. The murky profile showed a clean-cut man. You’ve since cut your hair. Shaved. A big difference. The reflection was of you, as you are now. According to the legend, you are the man for me. That’s why I lost it. Happy tears.”

  Legendary approval. He let her words sink in. Most important to him was that she’d chosen him before she’d seen that second vision. Which proved how much she loved him. She’d had no doubts. He might just become a believer after all.

  He cupped her face in his hands. “You are amazing and so incredibly beautiful.”

  “You’ve always been hot.” She admired him. “But your new haircut makes you a heartbreaker.”

  “I’d never break your heart.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  They both agreed that dinner could be reheated as a midnight snack. They craved each other now. Food was quickly stored in the refrigerator. He noticed a copy of the newspaper and a heart-shaped rock on the corner of the kitchen counter.

  “What are these?” he asked, curious.

  “I’m storing memories for my scrapbook,” she softly said. “The article and photo on the parade, along with the rock from the park. We can now add your aviators to my collectibles. Important mementoes to me.”

  Significant to him too. Emotion felt hot and thick in his throat. He hugged her tight, said, “Love wasn’t something I went out and looked for. The parade brought us together. We were destined.” He grinned then. “We have the legend’s blessing. Let’s make a future. Marry me, Hannah Allan.”

  She nodded against his chest. Spoke into his shirt, “You and me. Together always.”

  Always started now. No words were needed as to where they would make love. Her bedroom was closer than his. Mere steps away.

  Feminine and floral came to Jake’s mind when he entered her room. Her space was decorated in soft peach and mauve tones. A corner armoire, overstuffed chair, and bedside table finished the room. They stood at the foot of her bed. Anticipation touched them both, a sensual pull and stirring promise. He made the sex all about Hannah. Wanting the very best for her.

  He began by touching her with her clothes on. Then gently taking them off. He encouraged her to do the same for him. Until they were both naked.

  His hands were steady.

  Hers shook.

  “I’ve only done this once before,” she admitted.

  “More than once for me.”

  “You’ve more experience.”

  “You’re keeping up just fine, sweetheart.”

  He introduced her to him slowly. A hard man showing his soft side. A slight shift of his shoulders and he grasped her hips. She was a small woman. Delicately boned. Their thighs brushed and his sex pressed her belly, as their bodies became acquainted.

  She raised her hands between them. Skimming her fingers over the cut and contour of his muscles, then tracing the arrow of his chest hair down to his groin. He liked her hands on him. Tentative and appreciative. She squeezed his length. His throat constricted. He moaned.

  The moment was seamless, timeless. He took great pleasure in foreplay. Kissing her gently. Then again with thrusting intent. Mating with her mouth and mimicking sex. Her lips were sugary from the cake, and the flavor of blueberries lingered on her tongue. They kissed for a very long time.

  Until she embraced him fully. She wrapped her arms about his neck and pulled him close. She nuzzled his collarbone, kissed his throat, and then placed a kiss over his heart. His rough hands were tender on her smooth skin. He outlined her nipples and stroked the underside of her breasts with care. They explored each other with thoroughness.

  His fingers wandered, worked their way across her stomach, hand-spanned her hips, and then traced the sensitive crease between her thighs and torso, stopping short of her sweet spot. She shivered, grew restless. Nearly ready for him.

  Jake scored a condom from the pocket of his jeans. He ripped the foil with his teeth, was quick to cover himself, smoothing out the latex. He took her to bed and drew her down with him. He settled over her, set his knees, and eased her legs apart. She pushed up, offered herself to him. A calculated shift of his hips and he entered her. Careful not to crush her. He was twice her weight in muscle and doubly strong. They still fit as if made for each other.

  She hugged him close. He buried his face in her hair. Her neck. Breathed in her scent. Aroused woman and feminine musk.

  They moved together.

  Uninhibited and indulgent.

  Power and pleasure.

  He thrust, and she throbbed.

  She arched against him.

  He strained against her.

  A sensation hit him that he hadn’t expected.

  A sense of oneness settled in his soul.

  His rhythmic pace coaxed her, drove her higher.

  They climbed fast and were suddenly there.

  They came undone.

  Both stiffening.

  Both shattering.

  Both boneless. Mindless. Replete.

  He was drained. She was exhausted. However, they weren’t too tired to eat. Their shrimp dinners called them to the kitchen. He rose, disposed of his condom. Then slid on his jeans. She donned a short cotton robe. They heated the meals and ate in intimate silence. He split his piece of lemon meringue pie with her.

  They sat for a long time. Hannah was something to stare at with her tousled hair, kiss-swollen lips, and sexy serenity. Her robe slipped off one shoulder. Baring her collarbone and the top of her breasts. She did it for him. He’d never felt so relaxed in his life. Never more satisfied. Never more hot for a woman.

  They held hands, kissed often, and discussed their future.

  “Long or short engagement?” he initiated.

  “Six months.”

  He groaned. Seemed like forever. “I’ll need to get you a ring.”

  “It’s not necessary. I have you.”

  “It’s important to me, Hannah,” he told her. “I actually have one in mind. How do you feel about vintage jewelry?”

  “Classic and lovely,” she returned. “I often browse Keepsake Antiques. There’s a history behind each gem.”

  “I have such a ring if you’re interested. A family heirloom.”

  She was attentive. Intrigued.

  “We’d need to go to Bangor for you to see it,” he said. “We can visit my parents and brother then too. Share our good news. My mother recently handed down my great-grandmother’s engagement ring, in hopes I would marry someday. It’s stored in a safety deposit box at the bank.” He recalled the jeweler’s description. “A two-carat round diamond with double-halo accents styled in a filigree setting. I want you to have it if you like the design.”

  She placed her hand over her heart. “How exquisite. I’d love to see it.”

  “The ring would look good on your finger.” She had slender fingers. Short, clear-polished nails. “We’ll pick out our wedding bands together.”

  She nodded her agreement.

  “Our wedding?” he next asked.

  Her smile was sweet. “Large. I grew up in Moonbright. I know everyone. I couldn’t exclude a soul.”

 
His gut clenched. He wasn’t one for public displays. Crowds closed in on him. But he could live with the townsfolk for one day. He gave in, for her. “When and where?” came next.

  “Spring. Outside when the air is crisp and cool, at the gazebo in the park. It gets a fresh coat of paint every April.”

  Lots of room at the park for the guests. “Where will we live?”

  “We can start out above the café.”

  “A bit cramped, babe.”

  “I like being close to you.”

  “Close it is then.”

  “Your motorcycle business?”

  “Clients will find me. I can work anywhere.” He’d thought to rent a bay from Mac Morrison. At least at the outset.

  “When do we share our news with Gram, the major, and Moody?”

  He’d let her decide. “Whenever you’re ready. Just not tonight. I want you all to myself.”

  They soon cleared away the dishes. Bed called to them again. They went willingly. They stripped down and spooned for hours. He tucked her so tightly against his body, she became an imprint on his skin. A sensual tattoo, invisible, yet memorable.

  They dozed sporadically, woke, and made love. The more they had sex, the more they wanted each other. They were that good together. His condom supply dwindled. They kissed until their lips were numb. Until neither could draw a full breath. Until they wore themselves out and sleep drew them deep.

  Seven thirty, and sunlight creased the window shade. A flickering of rays across Hannah’s cheek and Jake’s bare chest. He blinked awake. She peered at him through heavy lids. It was her day off. Jake was in no hurry to get to the garage. He could call Mac and skip work, if he so chose. He’d just gotten engaged. Mac would understand.

  Life felt lazy, no worries, just the two of them holed up in bed. She lay fully across him, hugging him tightly, as if she’d never let him go. The feel of her calmed him. He’d never felt such peace. Such hope. Or so much love.

  His stomach gave a growl. Food crossed his mind. So did fooling around. The latter won. Without question.

  Hannah lifted her head, licked her lips. “Breakfast in bed?”

  He deftly eased her onto her back. Then rolled atop her. She yielded beneath him. So soft. So warm. So willing. “Love over easy, babe.”