It's a Love Thing (11 page)

"I stopped taking assignments three
years ago when my son was born. I'm enjoying motherhood. Maybe when
the kids are older I'll start up again."

"If you aren't taking assignments,
then why did you answer my wish and not another faery?"

"Jaxton asked me if I wanted to do
this. He asked me last year when he first received the request, but
I wasn't ready yet and I asked if he could hold on to it for a
while. When it came through again tonight, he asked me. And here I
am."

"Here you are," I smiled.

"A few years ago Jaxton finally
explained everything to me, though he waited until we'd been
married for two years, the big chicken." We laughed
quietly.

"I've been worried about you, hoping
you were happy and safe," I said.

"I worried about you too. Well, after
I found out what you did for me. Before then I hoped you were
burning in the eternal fires of hell." She smiled the same sweet
smile of so many years ago. “Are you happy, Pete?”

"I'm happy, very happy. I have a
wonderful life, partly due to you. My wife Wendy is amazing. She's
kind and generous, and of course, I have my beautiful
daughters."

"I'm glad. Did you ever
finish reading
Crickets on the
Hearth
?”

I laughed. “Yes.” I didn’t tell her
I’d read it at least fifteen times that first year, each time
remembering her and our time together. And up until I’d met Wendy,
it’d been part of my summer reading regimen.

"Are you happy?" I asked.

"Yes. Very much so."

"And I'm guessing now that my wish has
been granted, I'll never see you again." It was a statement rather
than a question. I knew the answer.

"Yes, your wish has been granted. And
no, you'll never see me again," she said. "I can't thank you enough
for what you did for me, Pete. Every time I look into my children's
sweet little faces, I think about what I almost gave up." She
pinched her tiny little eyes shut. "I'll be eternally grateful to
you for that."

"I'm grateful for all you did for me,
Tink." I said.

"I really should be going. The baby
will want her dinner any minute now. Good bye, Pete."

I nodded. "Good bye, Tink."

I never wished on another star after
that night. Knowing Tink was safe and happy gave me incredible
peace.

But I never forgot her. A very wise
faery once told me that you never forget your first
love.

She was right.

The End

About the Author of
Pete & Tink

Sherry Gammon is the author of
Unlovable, book one in the Port Fare series, and a soon to be
released YA novel titled Soul In Peril. She lives in Upstate NY
with her family and two spoiled pooches! Unlovable, her first
novel, is being adapted into a movie.

Other Books by Sherry
Gammon

Unlovable

And the upcoming
Unbelievable

Find more about Sherry
at:

http://www.wordpaintingsunlimited.blogspot.com/

[email protected]

https://twitter.com/#%21/SherryGammon

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Sherry-Gammon/12926010381153

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Contents

Temptation

Take This Job and Shove
It.
That was my mother’s ring tone for her
boss, Mr. Stein, and it was ringing . . . again. Not the original
version by Johnny Paycheck, but the remake by David Allen Cole.
Once upon a time I actually enjoyed that song. Now it just meant
mom was leaving . . . again. What I couldn’t understand was if she
hated her job as an antiquities curator so much then why was she
always leaving me for it, and why in God’s name had she dragged us
halfway across the country just to keep it?

“
Can you grab the last
couple boxes, hon? I have to take this.”

Of course she did, she always did. I
peered into the back of the moving truck and saw the last four
boxes stacked against the back wall. It had only taken all day to
get this far and the sun was already starting to set. To be honest,
I was impressed Mr. Stein had managed to wait so long to call her
in.

Hoisting a box labeled ‘bathroom,’
easily weighing a million tons into my arms, I stumbled haphazardly
down the gang plank of the truck. Reaching the bottom of the ramp,
I promptly tripped over my own feet and fell into the street where
I was met with a blaring horn. The box went flying and all manner
of embarrassing items spewed across the street. Naturally the car
idling in the middle of the road less than five feet from me had to
have the most gorgeous guy on earth behind the wheel. Dark wavy
hair fell into his eyes as he leaned to roll down his window.
Annoyance flew from his heart stoppingly blue eyes like laser beams
as he shouted, “Watch it.”

Without another word—no ‘are you all
right?’ or ‘do you need any help?’—he pulled away and drove past
the plethora of items scattered around me. Jerk. Gathering up
makeup items, toiletries, and oh, fun… my toothbrush, I kept one
eye on the car as it slowed just past my house and pulled into the
next driveway. Evidently the jerk lived next door, why
not?

When I shoved open the front door,
nearly losing my grip on the box from hell a second time, my mother
was just getting off her call.

“
What took you so
long?”

“
I met the neighbor,” I
grumbled, dropping my burden on the kitchen counter. I’d worry
about getting it down the hall and into the bathroom later . . .
maybe.

“
Oh, really? Are they
nice?”

“
I just met their son, I
guess, actually.”

“
Ohhh, a son. Is he your
age? Is he good looking?”

“
Mom!”

“
What, can’t a single,
middle aged woman live vicariously through her beautiful teenage
daughter?”

“
No, mom, she
can’t.”

Mom put on her classic pouty face and
I decided to throw her a bone.

“
If you must know, he does
look like he’s around my age.”

“
And good
looking?”

“
Mom,” I
snapped.

“
Alright, alright. Listen,
I have to go in to my new office for a few hours tonight. Do you
think you can fend for yourself for dinner? I put a twenty on the
counter for pizza.”

“
Sure. Do you have the
number?”

“
You can just look it up
later when you’re ready to order. Thanks, honey,” she called,
grabbing her purse off the counter and heading for the
door.

Only one problem, mom; no internet and
no phone book. How, exactly, was I supposed to ‘look up’ the
number? Too late to ask her, she was already in her small red
Chevy, backing down the driveway. I finished hauling in the last
three boxes and then returned to the dinner predicament. If she
thought for one second that I was going to ask ‘hot neighbor boy’
she had another thing coming. The only good thing about moving here
now was that it was June and school had just let out. With any luck
I would be able to avoid him completely for the next two months.
The house on the opposite side looked a lot more
promising.

Well-tended gardens that looked like
they'd been overrun by a gnome army made up most of the front yard,
and a white porch with no less than a half dozen different wind
chimes wrapped around the front of the house. It was highly
unlikely that any teenaged jerks lived there—more likely some
ninety-year-old women with a billion cats. Crazy cat ladies I could
handle. I headed in that direction, cautiously picking my way
around gnomes, or trolls . . . what’s the difference
again?

An old white station wagon sat in the
driveway, but when I knocked on the door several times no one
answered. Perfect, grams was probably already asleep for the night.
Well, I still wasn’t desperate enough to ask for the jerk’s help.
If I couldn’t bring the pizza to me then I was just going to have
to go to the pizza. I'd had my license for a few months now, but
I'd never driven anything larger than mom’s small sedan. The moving
truck was going to be a challenge.

Backing out of the driveway proved to
be the hardest part. Going forward wasn’t too much different than
driving a car. I cruised Main Street looking for any sign of a
pizza place, but never came across one. How could a town not have a
pizza place? There was a burger joint on the corner though. That
would have to do; I was starving.

If I thought backing out of the
driveway challenging, parking the monster was a complete nightmare.
I circled the lot three times before I found a spot wide enough I
felt confident I wouldn’t hit anybody pulling in or out
of.

The line inside the place was
outrageous and I waited almost twenty minutes for a cheeseburger
and fries. Needless to say, my double wide parking spot was no more
by the time I got back to the truck. Some idiot had squeezed in so
close to me that I could barely open the door to climb in. How the
heck was I going to get this thing out of here now? And, just to go
along with the theme of the evening, the idiot had to drive a
Mercedes. If I scratched that puppy I would spend the rest of my
life trying to pay for it.

Shifting into reverse, I eased the
beast backwards a few inches, but the enormous side mirrors were
coming too close for comfort to the Mercedes so I pulled forward
again trying to straighten her out. Then I inched backwards again;
same problem. This was never going to work. I pulled in and out bit
by bit a few more times before a knock came at my window. I jumped
a mile and slammed the truck into park to avoid any accidents
before rolling down the window.

“
You need some
help?”

An absolutely drop-dead gorgeous
blonde guy wearing a blue t-shirt that highlighted his dark blue
eyes stood outside the truck with an amused grin on his face. His
shirt left little to the imagination in regards to his well-defined
chest over his designer jeans. What was this town, hot guy central?
Not that I was complaining.

“
You seemed to be having a
little trouble getting out of the spot,” he pointed out.