Southern Spinster

  “You’d be surprised.” He grinned and straightened, tucking his large hands into his pockets. “Tell you what… you wanna mystery solve, head to the gardens tonight after dinner.” His gaze dropped to her hands briefly before locking on her eyes. “Or if you want to see if maybe you got what you came for, head to the third floor.”

  “Floor three is off limits to guests.”

  He reached for her hand and pressed a keycard into her palm, the corners pushing into her fair skin. “Just wave this over that black screen. Should get you there.”

  She bit her lip, debating on closing her hand over the card. “Is this a booty call?” she asked, irritation lacing her voice. “’Cause I ain’t into that, mister, and I oughtta throw this key card into that fountain over there.”

  His laughter shook the statue. “Maybelle, I promise I’m interested in more than just… ‘booty.’ I would just like to spend some time with you outside of the act I’ve got to play, and should be playing right now.”

  She studied his eyes, making sure this wasn’t just another line he was throwing her way. There was a spark between them, for sure, and she knew she felt it. She knew that this was something different, something new, something exciting. Was it better than what she felt toward Garreth? She wasn’t sure yet. Garreth was familiar in a way, and she hesitated pushing at it. Michael was completely out of her wheelhouse, straightforward in what he wanted, in his attraction toward her. The only problem was she wasn’t sure if what she wanted and what he wanted would line up together.

  She wrapped the card up and held it close, offering up a playful smile. “I s’pose we’ll see where I end up tonight.” The gardens with Garreth or the third floor with Michael. If she played her cards right, maybe she wouldn’t have to choose at all.

  “Hey,” Maybelle said to her brother later that night after dinner. “I’m going for a walk.”

  Will laughed out loud as she pulled on her jacket. “It’s ‘bout ten degrees outside.”

  She ignored his teasing and left while he was still in a fit of amusement. So what if it was a little chilly; she’d have company to warm her.

  She’d sat by Winter at dinner, who seemed as genuine as they come, despite the fact she was playing a part. Maybelle kept it no secret when Winter asked her what brought her to Frostville, and when Winter had asked her if she’d set her sights on anyone in particular, Maybelle didn’t have an answer for her. She’d still been wondering which destination she’d end up at tonight.

  As dessert wrapped up, Garreth nervously approached her, the adorably awkward stretch of his grin tickling her heart. She couldn’t help but let him in on where to be; solving the mystery was what was keeping them together, and with Alexis being much savvier than her, she felt a swell of pride that she’d gotten such insider information.

  The elevator key card lay heavy in her jacket pocket, and her fingers slowly curled around it. I’m not saying no, she told herself as she padded her way down carpeted steps to the back gardens. It’s still early to do both.

  It was horrible to even think, and in the back of her mind she chastised herself. Why in the world pursue Garreth when an acceptable man just told you he was interested? Why waste that time?

  Yet another voice said it was a waste of time to pursue Michael when she was so unsure of a future with him.

  She grumbled, then shook it off so Garreth wouldn’t wise up to her torn mood.

  The gardens were perfectly in sync with the rest of the mansion—absolutely breathtaking. A maze of hedges lay just beyond a lavish fountain, a cobblestone path beckoning her in. Garreth sat on a bench, twisting his fingers and bouncing his knees. She watched him for a moment, smiling at his mussed hair that looked like he’d pulled it a few hundred times in the past twenty minutes. He wore a light gray sweater with a half zipper pulled down on the neck, exposing his Adam’s apple and hinting at a chiseled torso. She instantly connected him to Eros himself, minus the wings.

  How old was he? In his thirties, most likely, but maybe younger than her? She hadn’t had much luck with younger men, and a silly voice in her head said, “Another point for Michael!” who had already mentioned he was four years her senior.

  She took a step forward, a stray stick snapping under her heel. Garreth glanced up, grinning wide and shaking out his hands, like he was desperately trying to clear them of nerves. A silent giggle shook her shoulders, and she closed the space between them quickly.

  “Hey there,” she said, using the greeting she reserved for only those she was interested in. Garreth’s brown beauties looked her up and down.

  “W-wow,” he said, his voice a shaky, awed whisper. His eyes slammed shut, his forehead puckered. “I mean… uh… hey.”

  “I was okay with ‘wow,’” she assured him, even though she had no idea what he was talkin’ about. She’d slipped on the only pair of jeans she owned and covered up with an overly large jacket. Heels weren’t going to cut it either, so she’d zipped up her thigh high boots and promised to buy some tennis shoes when she got back home. A girl needed good walking shoe choices.

  Garreth let out a half laugh, half hiccup that had the back of his neck red when he swiveled on his heel and nodded for her to join him. His hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans, and Maybelle sidled up next to him.

  Should she grab hold of his arm? It wasn’t exactly extended out to her, but the urge to grab on and never let go took over. She crossed her arms and dug her nails into her jacket to keep her limbs under control.

  After a couple of minutes of awkward silence that had Maybelle almost blurting that she wanted to know if he liked her, Garreth cleared his throat. “Did you ever see Lord of the Rings?”

  The question had her tripping over her feet. She regained her balance and gave him an amused look. “A very, very long time ago. Why?”

  “This garden looks like Hobbiton, don’t you think?” His eyes lit up in the way they had when he showed her his spreadsheet earlier. That childlike sparkle made her heart smile, and she thought maybe that’s how she looked whenever she spoke of styling hair. In fact, she’d just had that conversation at dinner with Winter, and when Winter asked Maybelle to do her hair for the dance on Friday evening, Maybelle squealed and her mind reeled with the many ways she could style those long platinum blonde locks.

  “Hobbiton… is that the place with all the tiny houses?”

  “The Shire, yeah.” He shook his head, as if embarrassed by correcting her with his geek knowledge. “It’s really green. Probably the most beautiful place in Middle Earth.”

  He winced at his words, and she bit back a grin. She could only imagine how badly he felt he was bombing this conversation, and she wished she had enough Lord of the Rings knowledge to make him feel better, but she did have something up her sleeve.

  “Hmm… I’m thinking it’s more like the maze in Goblet of Fire.” She blew out a whistle as they passed a seven foot hedge. “I hope you’re paying attention to where we’re going because I’m going to get horribly lost.”

  He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing. “Don’t worry, I got it.”

  They headed past another hedge and into a wide open, circular space, secluded and romantic. Early blooms spread out around an intricate gothic lamp, a smooth rounded bench looking cozy and inviting. Maybelle slowed her stride.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, brow furrowing at her pause in gait.

  “Just admiring The Shire,” she teased. He put a hand over his face, a cute smile poking through his fingers.

  “Thank you for not bolting,” he muttered. “I’m… well, I’m not so good at this.”

  “At what?” she probed, electricity snapping in the air between them. Was he about to admit something? Should she tell him she liked him? In the past, that had never panned out for her, and she didn’t want to admit to anything. Not until he gave some indication of returned attraction.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Any of this stuff. New people, new place… the mystery make
s it a bit easier, but I’m just not used to… socializing.”

  A wave of sympathy ran through her, and she stepped forward, wanting to put a hand on his arm to comfort him, but would that only make him more uncomfortable? “I’m sorry. I wish I could make that easier for you.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I think you are… but in the same vein, you also make me beyond nervous.” A shaky laugh fell from his lips, and a buzz zapped through her midsection. His dimple teased her, appearing for only a split second before disappearing back into the smooth skin of his chin.

  “No need to be nervous around me, hun,” she said, putting her southern flirt in her voice. “I don’t gossip and I love to chat, even if I’m the only one doin’ the talkin’.”

  An appreciate smirk spread over his face. Then without warning, without prelude, his hands found her cheeks, and he reeled her in for a tentative, yet passionate kiss.

  Maybelle’s heart leapt in her chest, a surprised squeak popping from the back of her throat. Garreth was kissing her, kissing her, and he was good at it, his hands a soft caress to her skin and his lips a comfort and warmth she’d never felt before. A spark ignited in her belly, and as the shock wore off, her eyes drifted closed, her fingers twisting into his sweater and pulling him close.

  His lips broke free with a gentle pop, his forehead staying against hers as he caught his breath. She wanted him back, the fire between them fresh and unwilling to fade out any time soon.

  He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands smoothing down from her neck to her shoulders. Blood rushed back to her fingers as she unfurled them from his sweater, the material puckered where she’d clung on. Was she breathing yet? She couldn’t be sure. The display of affection had come on so suddenly, so unexpectedly, and was so out of this world she had a hard time coming back down to earth.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, backing off slowly, his eyes pinched shut. No no! she shouted in her head. Don’t be sorry!

  “What?” was all she could muster.

  He shook his head, grabbing onto his hair and plopping onto the bench. “Geez, you must think I’m the stupidest guy…”

  Her brow furrowed, her lips still tingling from that golden kiss. “What? Not at all.”

  He peeked up at her, his hand on the back of his neck, his elbow resting on one of his knees. He looked completely embarrassed, and she wanted to erase that look, put him at ease. There was absolutely nothing wrong with what he’d done. In fact, she wanted him to do it again.

  “I haven’t…” He paused, looking at his feet. Maybelle wobbled over on weak knees to take the spot next to him. His vulnerable eyes connected with hers, and he relaxed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in the dating game.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?” There was a stutter in her heart. “Did you just come out of a serious relationship?”

  He shook his head. “Not ‘just.’ It’s been five years, and I’m… I mean, the feelings aren’t there anymore. There were good reasons for ending it. But she was my high school sweetheart. We got married so soon after we graduated. I just don’t remember how to date. How this goes. I’m so awkward I can’t stand it.” He laughed at himself, and she set a hand on his arm.

  Married. He’d been married. She didn’t know why that surprised her so much, or that she’d never considered it.

  It surprised her more that it wasn’t a deal breaker. In fact, she wanted to bundle him up in a hug and hear all about it. Usually when she was on a date, she’d be the one talking, or there was only surface conversation. For someone who claimed to not be so good at this, Garreth knew exactly how to make her feelings for him grow every time she was with him.

  “I’m not so good at this either,” she said with a grin, settling into the back of the bench. He twisted to keep looking at her.

  “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “Why do ya think I’m still single at thirty-six?” She dropped her age casually but purposefully. If it was his deal breaker, nothing in his expression indicated as such.

  “I can only conclude that the men in Alabama are blind,” he said with a shy smile, like the words held so much truth that he had a hard time getting them out. It wasn’t like Michael, whose compliments slid off his tongue like butter; Garreth’s were thought out and awkward, but sincere just the same.

  Elation pumped her heart, and she scooted a little closer. “Any kids?” she asked, realizing that children wouldn’t be a deal breaker either. She secretly patted her back for what she was discovering about herself.

  He shook his head and leaned back, his arm against hers. He gazed at her hand for a good three seconds before deciding to reach for it. A smile pulled at her lips as their fingers laced together and his thumb rubbed soothing circles over her knuckle.

  “That was part of the problem, actually,” he said. “When we married, both of us were fine waiting for kids. We wanted to have fun, then settle down.” He let out a humorless laugh. “After a while, I was ready. She wasn’t. I thought I’d change her mind, she thought she’d change mine. Obviously, you see how well that turned out.”

  She nodded, understanding but not at the same time. Would Michael want children down the road? It seemed too soon to talk about kids this early after meeting, but at the same time, it seemed like something that should be mentioned immediately. Michael expressed his interest in her, and Garreth just did the same—unless kissing meant something else to him.

  Two men… goodness, she’d never been in this predicament.

  Garreth’s hand squeezed hers, sending flutters through her entire body, not unlike the ones she’d felt with Michael when he scooped her off her feet.

  “Is that why you’re here?” she asked, circling a finger to the sky. “The rumor of this place being haunted and all?”

  He grinned. “I’m not sure about that. I went through four bookings and cancellations before finally getting the guts to go through with it. I wanted to meet people, get myself out there.”

  “And how’s it going for ya?” she teased, pinching the skin by his elbow.

  “Well, I kissed a beautiful woman on day two after using Lord of the Rings to flirt with her.”

  She let out an unabashed laugh, resting her head on his broad shoulder. “If it makes you feel better,” she said, and she hoped to the heavens that it did, “I don’t think you’re as bad at this as you think you are.”

  Maybelle gazed up at her ceiling, twirling the elevator key card end on end as the sun crept over the horizon. By the time Garreth and her had gone back up to the mansion—and stopped talking long enough to go to their separate rooms—it was four in the morning, well past any chance she had at heading to the third floor.

  She’d been so caught up with Garreth that the thought of Michael hadn’t interrupted until she tucked her hands into her jacket pocket and a lump grew in her throat. Had she made her choice, then, simply by forgetting?

  Will’s snores filtered through the suite, and she grabbed one of the many pillows and slammed it over her face. She’d been stood up three times, and each incident was gut-wrenching even to remember. How could she be that person? Ditching one man for another; it was as if Frostville was a different dimension, one where she was the desirable woman, breaking hearts and coming up with excuses for why she did.

  She screamed into her pillow, the feathers muffling the noise. She hated herself for basking in the sweetness of last night, of dreaming of Garreth’s lips and soft touch, his laugh and his geekdom. She pictured kids with his eyes and her hair, no matter how many times she told herself not to. A kiss hardly meant a future together, but the way he’d talked to her, the way he got nervous around her… it was farther than she’d ever gotten before with a man. What else could she do but fantasize?

  But at the expense of Michael’s feelings? Ugh, it ripped her apart into two halves—half guilt and half elation. They were a deadly combo.

  She pulled the pillow away and turned to her side, hiding her eyes
from the sun. She could only pray that Michael wouldn’t be too upset. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. Though the thought of that was incredibly—and selfishly—painful.

  Oy, I’m a terrible person, she thought, then rolled out of bed and headed for the tub. Sleep was overrated anyhow.

  Maybelle had to admit for how craptacular she felt, she certainly didn’t look it. She pulled out all the stops after a bubbly, lavender scented bath, doing her hair in a long side braid that took her about ten seconds with her practiced hands. She swapped her Wednesday outfit for her backup—a flowy, sheer white number with a royal blue slip underneath. The compliments she’d gotten on this dress was enough to strengthen her confidence, and not only that, but it was a fun piece, one that was as equally comfortable as it was cute. Maybelle shined in the dress, even when she was crumbling to pieces underneath it.

  Breakfast was a sit down meal, the performance a big part in the conversation. Winter stood at the head of the table, wearing a stunning light blue dress and crying on cue. “Morning, everyone. It’s my great displeasure to announce that we lost someone last night.”

  Only a few surprised glances were shared; others seemed already informed, and Maybelle turned to Garreth sitting across from her. By the time she’d ventured downstairs, most of the seats at the table had been taken, including the ones on either side of Garreth. He’d given her a one-shouldered shrug and apologetic eyes when she’d walked in, but it was no matter. Sitting across from him may have hindered conversation with all the food and centerpieces blocking them, but the view wasn’t too shabby.

  Garreth leaned to the side, peeking from around a pitcher of orange juice. “Edward,” he mouthed with wide, excited eyes. Maybelle suppressed a giggle at his enthusiasm and cute face.

  Fantasies and anticipation of more kissing and hand holding took hold of her, and she missed most of what Winter said next. It wasn’t until Winter gestured to the woman on Maybelle’s left.