The Princess and the Pizza Man (Destined for Love: Mansions)

  Her gray eyes batted, her teeth coming out over that plump bottom lip. “Then why aren’t you there?”

  He lifted a shoulder, unashamed to admit it. He wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers this time. “Didn’t feel like home anymore.”

  A blush ran through her cheeks, and he made his way forward, meeting her halfway.

  “So, where is home, then?” she asked. He reached for her hand, clasping her gently before lifting it to her heart.

  “Pretty sure it’s right here.” His lip tilted up. “If that’s a’right with you.”

  Her smile turned evil. “I guess I can take your grumpy butt a little while longer.”

  He chuckled, cupping her cheeks and dropping his lips to hers. An adorable squeal of surprise or joy came from the back of her throat, and he couldn’t help but smile, his hands keeping her mouth pressed with his for as long as she’d let him. He hoped it would be forever.

  A small laugh spilled from her lips when they broke apart to take a breath. Her fingers grazed his face. “This really isn’t soft, is it?”

  “You want me to grow it out?” he said, wiggling his nose against hers.

  “Heavens no.” She gave him a peck. “It’s probably better for business.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Making pizzas. No one wants to find a beard hair in there.”

  His brow pulled in. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be making those for a while.”

  “And why not?”

  He wrapped her up in his arms and put his forehead against hers, taking in her cinnamon scent. “My priorities are a bit different now.”

  Her hand slithered up his chest and settled on his beating heart. “Well, I think we can arrange something that’ll work for the both of us.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “But for now, let’s kiss again, then you and I hop in the car over there.” She gestured to the sedan where Michael was now standing. “And give your sister a happy ending, too.”

  Will’s brow pulled in, but after a good few seconds, the things he’d noticed about Michael and Bells started to fall into place. He bent down, grabbed his duffel bag, and slung it over his shoulder.

  “You got it.”

  And they kissed in the drive until Michael begged them to get going.

  The second most delicious scent in the world rose up through the air as Will pulled out a fresh batch of Parmesan breadsticks. The best scent to him now was the sweet perfume that accompanied Winter’s suitcase whenever she opened it on the guest bed and started unpacking clothes that would last a month or more. Soon they’d have clothes for here and clothes for the mansion once Roe’s Pizza opened a second location, but for now, this was what was workin’ for ‘em.

  “I need a slice of meat lovers, Will!” Bonnie Baker waved from her usual spot, and Will whistled and started covering the counter with flour. It was a normal six o’clock on a Friday evenin’, and his hands hadn’t gotten a break for the past hour.

  He glanced up from the dough to briefly catch the sparkly gray eyes watching him from across the room. His lips curved, and he started moving faster, trying to impress, but also hopin’ to get a break soon so his hands would be busy with something else.

  The ring in his pocket suddenly seemed ten thousand pounds.

  “Miss Penelope!” Jeremy called from the side. “Order up!”

  Will barely noticed the quiet woman as she weaved through the crowd to pick up her order. Her cheeks turned red as her hand met Jeremy’s as they exchanged money. When Will had told Bells about his conundrum with Penelope, she’d laughed boldly in his face and told him she’d no idea how full of himself he was. Apparently, his infatuation had been one-sided, and Penelope’s eyes had been on his second-in-command. He’d laughed, too. All that flirtin’ felt as embarrassing as when he’d thought he’d witnessed a murder.

  His eyes met Winter’s again, and he tossed the dough as high as he could into the air. She blew on her nails and rubbed them on her shirt. He laughed, loving that she knew he was showing off.

  This time tomorrow, he’d hopefully be an engaged man, and he’d be looking at his fiancée from across the shop. He winked at her, and by the look in her eyes, the anxious fidgeting, and the tug of her bottom lip, he wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what was coming.

  His hands stopped mid-pizza roll, and he turned to Jeremy. “Can you…?” He nodded to the dough, and Jeremy gave him a confused look, but he nodded. It was dinner rush, the place was packed, but Will couldn’t wait any longer.

  He wiped his hands and jumped over the counter, grin on his face as he marched straight to Winter. She let out a squeal when his hands wrapped around her waist and tossed her over his shoulder.

  “Ooooo!” the crowd chanted, cheering as he hauled her to the back closet.

  “Be right back, y’all,” he called out. “Gotta ask my girl a question.”

  And by her excited laughter, Will knew exactly what her answer would be.

  Kiss Me in the Rain by Lindzee Armstrong

  Cypress Grove Mansion, a treasured constant in Layla's perfect life, will be sold to the highest bidder if she doesn’t date an investor's son. The problem? The man she really wants just rolled into town.

  Roping His Heart by Jaclyn Hardy

  Rachel has dreamed of owning the old mansion since she was a child. When Patrick comes to town with the deed in his hand, Rachel’s hopes are shattered. Can she have both the house and the man who has captured her heart, or will she be left with nothing?

  The Princess and the Pizza Man by Cassie Mae

  Cupid is supposedly haunting Frostville Mansions, and skeptic Will heads to the place with the hope his sister will finally find the love she wants. But when he starts to fall for the fun and spunky owner, he wonders if there may be a love god living in the walls after all.

  Mending Fences by Lorin Grace

  Two decades ago a little girl climbed a fence and found a friend. Now all she finds is trouble. Daniel Crawford has taken to chasing off intruders by any means possible. No one is going to cross the fence into his land. Or his heart.

  Love Me at Sunset by Lucinda Whitney

  For Afonso, the remote Sunset Manor is the perfect place to start over as the new groundskeeper. But when suspicious accidents start at the property, will he be able to protect the young widow Catarina?

  Saving Her Plantation by Cami Checketts

  Harrison Jackson has always been revered for his athleticism. When he’s asked to help a southern belle, a women looks past his stats and handsome face, he falls quickly, but she’s in too big of a mess to commit to anyone.

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  All Mandy needed was four more inches to get the perfect shot, but no matter which direction she moved along the gate, the black-walnut tree blocked part of her view. She glanced over her shoulder. The only vehicle on the neglected lane was her ancient blue VW Golf, or the “Golf Ball,” named for the many dents inflicted by an Indiana hailstorm. Vehicles sped by on the county road beyond. Still, she felt as if someone were watching her.

  Sometime in the last decade, the old wrought-iron gate had been replaced with a standard metal five-row pole gate. The rock columns that supported the archway now crumbled from their lofty height to little taller than her own five and a half feet. Haphazard piles of rubble lay within the fence line—a victim of the tornado that had hopscotched across the area three years ago. New chain-link fencing replaced the old pole fence.

  Mandy tested the gate. The chain held tight enough it didn’t swing more than five inches either way. Climbing on the lowest rail and leaning over the top, she tried again, but the tree still obscured her view. The second rail wasn’t any better, nor the third. On the forth, her positioning became precarious but gave her the best view so far. After checking to make sure no one was watching, she swung her leg over the top rail and str
addled the gate, adjusting her flowing skirt to keep the fabric from tangling around her knees. Grandma Mae’s voice echoed in her head “Amanda, ladies don’t climb in dresses,” but she needed to take the shot. Not as clean a shot as she would get from inside the gate, but good enough. Mandy leaned as far as she dared to the right and focused through the viewfinder. Click.

  “Hey! No trespassing!” a harsh male voice bellowed behind her.

  Mandy turned to see who, and her world turned upside down. Her foot hit the ground first, but she kept going.

  As the air came back into her lungs, three things came to her—the pain in her left foot, the blue, plastic-looking gun pointed at her face, and the portion of her skirt waving at her from the gate. Ignoring the toy gun, she sat up and yelped. There would be bruises. She tugged the remains of her skirt down. A chunk was missing from the right side, exposing more of her thigh than she was comfortable with.

  The camera. Where was it? Several black lumps lay four feet away. She closed her eyes, hoping she was seeing double. No use. The camera lens lay in three pieces on the cracked asphalt. If she were lucky, the man holding the funny plastic gun would shoot her, and maybe it would fire real bullets and not water. Death would be better than facing her faculty adviser. She turned her attention to the gun holder.

  “Can’t you read?” He waved the gun toward one of the No Trespassing signs hanging every ten yards along the fence.

  “Of course, I can. I was on that side of the fence. I am only trespassing because I fell.” She attempted to look him in the eye, but the sun peeking at her over his shoulder forced her to squint.

  “Get up.”

  Standing up in a skirt from her position was no easy feat. Grandma Mae would have a hissy fit if she saw me now.

  “Hurry up.”

  “You can be a gentleman and put the gun away and give me a hand, or you can wait.”

  He chose to wait.

  Mandy suppressed a cry as she stood, then adjusted her weight to her right leg.

  “So, what were you doing? Coming to vandalize the old Crawford place?” Even standing she couldn’t see his face well. The shadow of the hat he wore hid most of it.

  “I think it should be fairly obvious my intention isn’t to vandalize anything.” Mandy pointed to the broken camera.

  “You were climbing over the gate.”

  “I climbed on the gate. I had no intention of setting foot on the ground.”

  “Who sent you?” He waved the gun again.

  Mandy gritted her teeth to keep the sarcastic comments inside. “No one sent me.”

  “That is what the last one said before hightailing it off to the land developers in Chicago.”

  Mandy hopped a step to the gate.

  “Hold it right there.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Will you please put the squirt gun away so we can sort this out?”

  The man shifted. He was younger than she’d first thought, only a year or two older than her twenty-six years.

  She hopped again. “I know you don’t believe me, but in case you haven’t noticed, I am hardly in a position to run away or to hurt you.”

  He lowered the gun. “This isn’t a squirt gun; it is the newest prototype of printable gun.”

  “That thing can shoot real bullets?” The thought that the plastic gun didn’t squirt water caused a tremor to pass through her.

  “It can, but in this case they are rubber.” He slid the gun into a holster at his back.

  Mandy hopped another step. “If you can give me a hand, I will leave. I seem to have injured my foot.”

  The man shook his head and walked over to the end of the gate, inserted a key in the padlock, and removed the chain. Instead of coming to help her, he walked over to the remains of the camera. “That looks like one expensive camera.”

  Mandy limped, using the gate for support. “Tell me about it.”

  “What did you say?” The man picked up the pieces and strode over to intercept her.

  “I was agreeing. It is a very expensive camera.”

  Cradling the camera pieces, he blocked her way. “Probably more than a teenager like you can afford. Who paid you to come here?”

  “Can’t you read? The camera is clearly marked ‘University Property.’ Mandy jabbed a finger at the UPC inventory sticker.

  “Why would the university want pictures of this place?”

  “They don’t. I do. I borrowed the camera for my MFA project, and I’m not a teenager.”

  For a split second, Mandy thought she saw a flicker of something other than anger, but it was difficult to tell with the brim of his hat shading his face.

  “You’re bleeding.” He pointed to her arm.

  Blood trickled from her elbow. “Just a bit.” Not like a few drops of blood were her biggest problem at the moment.

  “Aren’t you going to do something about that?”

  “Like what? Rip off the rest my skirt off and wrap it?”

  The man walked around her and retrieved the portion of her skirt still clinging to the upper rail. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” His chivalry was unparalleled. She wrapped the remnant around her arm. He stood close enough now that she could see him clearly. She would know those blue eyes anywhere. “Danny?”

  He stepped back. “No one calls me that. I don’t care what you think you know from the tabloids. You don’t know me.”

  “Yes, I do. The summer you lived here—”

  “Stop.” He shoved the camera and lens parts at her. “Just leave.” He pushed the gate open wide.

  Mandy felt him watching as she dumped the pieces in the camera bag she’d left on the side of the road. “And to think Grandma Mae thought you would grow up to be a gentleman,” she muttered as she hoisted the bag to her shoulder. She winced when the strap hit a bruise.

  Danny froze in place, his hand on the gate. “What did you say?”

  “I said Grandma Mae was wrong about you.” Mandy limped to the car, the tears she had managed to keep at bay now escaping. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction seeing her of cry. The old Danny would have helped her.

  When she checked the rearview mirror, he still stood at the gate.

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  Thank you, pizza, because life would suck without you.

  Thank you, reader, for getting all the way to this page.

  Thank you, Mom, for encouraging me to follow my dreams.

  Thank you, backspace and delete buttons, for without you, this book would’ve been A LOT worse.

  Thank you, Leah, for taking an hour to break down all of my characters and plot. This book would not be what it is if you hadn’t done that.

  Thank you, Natalee, for reading this puppy on such a tight deadline, and for being a wonderful listening ear.

  Thank you, Theresa, for being the greatest person in the world.

  Thank you, Suzi and Kelley, for editing the mess of this book and dealing with my crazy.


  Thank you, Lindzee, for asking me to be a part of the best collection ever!

  Thank you, children and my children’s friends, for playing outside and taking care of a new puppy so I could write this book. Twice.

  And thank you, hubby, for always supporting me, even though you said my title was too silly. ;)

  Cassie Mae is the author of a dozen or so books. Some of which became popular for their quirky titles, characters, and stories. She likes writing about nerds, geeks, the awkward, the fluffy, the short, the shy, the loud, the fun.

  Since publishing her bestselling debut, Reasons I Fell for the Funny Fat Friend, she’s published several titles with Penguin Random House and founded CookieLynn Publishing Services. She is represented by Sharon Pelletier at Dystel and Goderich Literary Management. She has a favorite of all her book babies, but no, she won’t tell you what it is. (Mainly because it changes depending on the day.)

  Along with writing, Cassie likes to binge watch Once Upon A Time and The Flash. She can quote Harry Potter lines quick as a whip. And she likes kissing her hubby, but only if his facial hair is trimmed. She also likes cheesecake to a very obsessive degree.

  You can stalk, talk, or send pictures of Luke Bryan to her on her Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/cassiemaeauthor

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  Cassie Mae, The Princess and the Pizza Man (Destined for Love: Mansions)