Can't Fight This Feeling (14 page)

She placed the call, then jogged to her car and drove it out of the lot. Not very gracious of her, she was aware. But better for all. It was time to let go of the fantasy. Of the man.

Sure, she was running away from everything she wanted, but she knew she couldn’t have it anyway...because last night proved she could never give all of herself.

CHAPTER TEN

G
LORY
H
ALLETT
SPRAYED
cleaner on the glass countertop and used a page of newsprint to swipe it away, wishing she could remove the dullness from her mood just as easily. Her overcast state of mind didn’t make any sense.

It was her favorite time of year.

Summer could get crazy at the store. In spring there’d be fewer tourists but lots of people coming in with plans to spruce up their gardens or finish housing projects that had gone stale. During the winter, the cold was abated by the heat from the pellet stove in the rear corner, a cozy welcome for everyone, but the days were so darn short.

In autumn, though, lovely autumn, the door would swing open as it did right now and it would usher in that nutty smell of drying grasses and turning leaves. By late afternoon, the slant of the sunlight would cause the front window to blaze golden like a promise.

What was wrong with her? Glory thought.

She had all the elements needed for a happy life.

Angelica bustled out of the back room, waving a printout and wearing one of her infectious smiles. “Bookkeeping all caught up. Looks like September will be quite the successful month.”

With such an enthusiastic helper on the floor and at the computer, Glory should be congratulating herself on her good fortune. “Great to know,” she said, faking a grin. “Shall I book that round-the-world cruise?” Didn’t that sound irresistible? A chance to see foreign places and new faces and hear something besides the too-familiar ring of the bells on the door.

They chimed now, and her mother walked into the store. “Hey, Mom,” Glory said, plastering on yet another smile. “What’s up?”

Katie Hallett strolled up in a fetching yoga outfit, which explained where she’d been that morning. She’d started attending local classes every day since her husband retired. Deep breathing, she’d confided, was her way of dealing with a man constantly underfoot. “Do I have to find a reason to visit with my darling daughter?”

That added a little shine to Glory’s day. Her mom was awesome. Fun, a great cook and willing to take her daughter’s side during the inevitable arguments over the store with Hank.

“I bought you something,” Katie said.

“Oh?” Glory set aside the bottle of glass cleaner and wiped her hands on the canvas of her apron. She eyed the bag her mother carried. “I could use chocolate.”

“It’s not food.” Her mother waved the bag back and forth and Glory saw the logo of one of the upscale boutiques in the village. “Bon Nuit was having a sale.”

“Nice,” Glory said. The store carried all sorts of pretties, from expensive bath goods to elegant linens.

“I know how chilled you get on winter nights,” her mother said, her hand diving into the bag. “So I bought you this.” Flannel came out of the plastic, yards of it, more yards of it. White, sprigged with little lambs.

A granny nightgown. Ruffled at the throat and wrists. She was short, so the hemline would trail along the floor. Glory could barely swallow her groan as she pictured herself wearing it—the Ghost of Woman Past Her Prime.

“Um, thanks, Mom,” she said, taking the bulky garment into her arms. It could serve as a tent if she ever got stuck in a storm. Tears pricked at her eyes as she bundled up the fabric. “I’m sure I’ll get a lot of use out of it.”

Wasn’t that a miserable thought? Still, her mother had meant well.

Angelica took the folded nightgown from her. “I’ll put this in the back for you.” As she passed, she murmured into Glory’s ear. “At lunch, we’ll do some shopping in the Victoria’s Secret online catalog, how’s that?”

Glory returned a grateful smile. See? She had not only a successful business and a thoughtful mother, but a great friend in Angelica, too. Her happy should be soaring.

Though it wasn’t, she managed a pleasant conversation with her mom as she continued tidying the store. Katie was trying to get her husband to plan an extended vacation, but he was balking.

“Sorry, Mom,” Glory said. “I know he thinks he needs to be looking over my shoulder.”

“That’s all right,” Katie replied. “I’ve signed up for a watercolor class. I’ve joined a second book group.”

Despite her need to keep busy so Hank wouldn’t make her crazy hanging at home all the time, her mother appeared content. Why wasn’t Glory?

She’d always loved the store. As a little girl she’d explored the items on the shelves, horribly fascinated by the sticky strips used to catch rodents and bugs, intrigued by the woodworking tools and the socket sets. Her dad had taught her how to run the register at ten years old.

Which meant she’d been making change for seventeen years.

Glory sighed as she waved her mom out the door.

What was that saying? Familiarity breeds contempt? But she didn’t hate Hallett Hardware, did she?

The bells on the door rang out again. Another mom—this time her best friend’s. She was happy to see the other woman. She’d dropped by Jules’s house just the day before to pick up some adorable shots of little Becca that Jules wanted to share.

They’d oohed and awed, and Glory wondered what it would be like to trade places with her friend. She could be the wife and new mom who managed to do medical transcription on the side in order to dote on her daughter and welcome her firefighter husband home every night.

Jules could be the dedicated shopkeeper who felt shackled to the store. The one who couldn’t think of a single thing she was looking forward to in life.

But of course Glory wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Jules’s mom purchased the deck sealer product that Glory recommended and was almost on her way when she paused. Retracing her steps, there was a speculative gleam in her eye.

“I just can’t go away without asking...okay, prying,” she said with a grin. “What’s up with you and that very handsome young man you had with you at the fall festival?”

The question seemed to crack her sternum. Glory took shallow breaths and tried ignoring the pain. “Oh, him? Just a guy who came into the store occasionally and wanted to experience our community event.”

“He didn’t look like ‘just a guy’ to me. He looked like a man who was bowled over by the lady at his side.”

Glory thought she was getting better with the fake grins. “Ha-ha.” She took the other woman’s arm and led her toward the door.

“Just tell me you won’t go back to Stu Christianson,” Jules’s mother said as Glory ushered her out. “He’s too high school for you.”

Look at all she had, she thought, as she watched the other woman move down the sidewalk through the front window. So many blessings. A business. Friends. Family. A community that cared about her.

Stu.
He’s too high school for you.

High school or not, he might be better than being alone. She continued staring unseeing out the glass. Maybe this go-round she’d discover the magic that made her feel she and Stu were meant to be together.

Then a figure came into view, crossing the street toward the store. Glory’s heart slammed once against her still-aching sternum. Without thinking, she flew to the rear of the store and ducked into the back room.

Angelica looked up from her place at the computer. Her eyes rounded. “What’s wrong?”

“Tell him I’m out for the day. No, the rest of the year.”

“What? Who?”

“Kyle Scott,” Glory hissed. “I think he’s coming this way.”

What if he wasn’t? What if he was on some other errand and he didn’t intend to pop in at all?
The jerk.

Spinning on her heel, she decided she’d spy out the front window and find out just what he was up to since he had no interest in her anymore. Maybe he’d set his sights on Rosanne at the deli. Claudia at Feet & I who specialized in selling orthopedic shoes.

She hoped he had a broken tooth and was here to visit Dr. Howard. She was pretty sure no one in town could reattach a dick.

With righteous indignation, she stomped toward the front of the store, reaching it as Kyle stepped inside. Their gazes clashed.

Her stomach rose toward her heart, her heart floated into her throat. She felt hot, cold, hot. “Hello,” she said, congratulating herself on her businesslike tone. “Can I help you?”

“Glory.” He walked forward and reached for her hands.

She evaded his hold and stepped back. “Is there something you need?”

His mouth twisted. “I guess now isn’t the right time to say ‘you.’”

“You’d guess right.”

“I had an emergency.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I had to go out of town.”

An inkling of concern trickled through her. “Was someone ill?”

“No.” He rubbed at his eyebrow. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Your wife call you home?”

“What?” He stared. “
No.
I’m not married. I was just...occupied.”

“Hmm.”

“Another project. I thought I’d finished it before I came up here, but there were some problems I needed to address.” Both hands went through his shaggy hair. “I thought if I gave it all my attention I could get back here sooner. Get back to
you
.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What makes you think I was here waiting around?”

“Crap. I told you I was lousy at this.” He looked away, looked back. “Glory. Please. Can we start over?”

It was ridiculous to want to agree. Starting over meant setting herself up to be left once again. “I think it’s better that we don’t.”

He studied her face, then closed his eyes. “I blew it.”

Glory could not completely agree. “It’s not only that. I have to watch out for my reputation.”

“You think I’d harm it?” he asked.

“It’s about being a business owner. I’m not just responsible to myself. You might not understand that, but I have employees. My mom and dad who are still investors. I can’t do anything that might turn customers off of shopping here.”

His eyes narrowed. “Having a man in your life isn’t going to affect your P and L.”

A house painter knew about profit-and-loss statements? She barely knew about them herself, thanks to the most excellent accountant who had been doing the heavy lifting in that area for years. “Well—”

“Is Stu back in your life?” Kyle stepped close and grabbed her chin.

This close, he was dangerous. This close, the thrill of his proximity overwhelmed her good sense and her normal caution. “There’s no Stu.” At the weak note in her voice, she wrenched back. “But there’s no you, either.”

“Glory—”

“I’m not at a place in my life for a brief affair. I’ve got responsibilities—this whole place around my neck...” She frowned, hearing herself. Was it really an albatross? No, it was Kyle, messing with her head. Stirring her heart in all the wrong ways.

“Go away,” she said, wearily. “That would be best.”

His gaze ranged over her face. Then he nodded. Once. Sharply.

“I can be patient.”

“No—”

“Yes.” He smiled at her, and it was full of charm and a hint of guile. “We don’t know each other well—I see that. But I’m nothing if not tenacious. And to my detriment, often single-minded. This time I think that trait will come in handy.”

“I don’t want you to hurt me,” she whispered.

“Ah, Glory.” He came close enough to ghost his fingertips over her cheek. “It’s not living if we don’t risk that. Take it from me, I’ve been breathing for years, but I’ve only been existing. Until I looked into a pair of turquoise eyes...that’s when I finally felt my heart move.”

Then he was gone.

Glory rushed to the window to watch him leave. Seeing the back of him didn’t ease her mind or lift her mood.

Glory Hallett had all the reasons in the world to be happy.

But watching Kyle Scott walk away from her—she really, really wasn’t.

* * *

A
T
THE
KNOCK
ON
her cabin door, Angelica gritted her teeth, then wiped her hands on a rag and climbed down the ladder, fully aware of who it must be on her porch. Really, she had no choice but to face Brett. It had been cowardly of her to drive off without even a goodbye at the historical society the night before.

So now he’d see her like this, she thought, glancing down at her paint-spattered clothes. It served her right.

Though she’d left the porch fixture off, enough light from the cabin’s interior spilled out to illuminate him. In jeans and a white, long-sleeved T-shirt, he smelled like soap and looked gorgeous. The expression on his face was what struck her most, though.

Concerned. Caring. He studied her, the gray of his eyes soft now and not their usual ice.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Sure. And, uh, thanks for rushing to help. I should have said that before.”

“You’re welcome.” His gaze didn’t leave her face. “Certain you’re okay? That had to be a little scary.”