Love Rising: Spring (Mandrake Falls Series Romance Book 4) (12 page)

Jocelyn ladled chicken stew into each bowl and topped it
with a dumpling. She handed Jeremy a couple of forks and two napkins. “Sit down
and eat while it’s hot. My mom used to say that.” She raised her wine glass.
“To plumbing that works and crazy people who put bogus ads in the
paper.”
Jocelyn took a swallow of the white wine and choked. “It’s a
young vintage.”

“Bottled this month,” Jeremy grinned. “Your stew is much,
much better. You are very talented in the kitchen, Miss Tate.”

“I’ve mastered the domestic arts, Mr. Marks. Sadly, I have no
life skills whatsoever.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She banged her fork on the table impatiently. “So you keep
telling me. It’s not exactly a skill. I was born this way. People don’t pay a
person to be beautiful.”

“Sure they do. Models are paid.”

Jocelyn sighed and pushed blonde hair off her wide clear
brow. “I was approached to do some modeling when I was younger but mom was
sick. I couldn’t leave her. I’m too old now.”

“You’re only twenty-two.”

“I don’t make the rules. A model starts her career at
fourteen. I don’t care—I don’t want to be a model. I want to be an organic
gardener.”

Jeremy pushed his glasses up on his nose. They were having
such a good time, he didn’t want to break the spell but he promised his dad.
“Jocelyn, have you ever considered securing an investor?
A
silent one.
 
Somebody
who believes in your business and can, ah, help you take it to the next level?”

Jocelyn laughed.
“Why sure, sweetie!
I’ve got investors lined up around the block. The organic soap business is off
the chain as a profit-making enterprise.” She shook her head and scooped a
mouthful of dumpling onto her fork. “Hells bells, where do you get your ideas?”

“My dad mentioned it as a possibility. He has a lot of
experience with business start-ups. I talked to him today. He heard about the engagement
notice by the way,” Jeremy said casually, hoping she wouldn’t notice his
anxiety.

“So that’s why you’re stressed.”

“How did you know I was stressed?”

“You aren’t the only one paying attention here. I can tell
when you’re upset. Did your dad take the news as well as my father did?”

Jocelyn was being wryly sarcastic but she had no idea how
close the two fathers were in their opinions. Norm might come around in time
but Kenneth probably wouldn’t and if it came down to a choice, Jeremy would
choose Jocelyn. He would always choose Jocelyn and because of that, he had to
stop seeing her. If Kenneth couldn’t end the relationship one way, he’d find
another. Jocelyn’s business would take the hit.

“Dad was puzzled by the news more than anything. He heard
about it from some source he wouldn’t name. The jerk was probably some crony of
his who saw the paper and gave him a hard time for being the last to know. My
dad is kind of a control freak where I’m concerned.”

“I know what that’s like.”

Jeremy swallowed a mouthful of wine, screwing up his
courage. “Yeah, well, there was another reason he was bugged by the notice. Dad’s
source said you were behind it. I told him his informant was wrong but he wasn’t
convinced. I think the only way we’re going to come out of this is if we find
out who put the ad in the paper.”

“I don’t care who put the ad in the paper, do you?” Jocelyn’s
face was wreathed in smiles. “I know I felt stupid at first and I was worried
what people would think of me but not anymore.” She poked at her stew. “It gave
me a chance to get to know you better so I’m glad it happened.”

“So for sure it wasn’t you,” he stated flatly.

Jocelyn frowned. “For sure it wasn’t me. Your mom wasn’t the
only dead mother mentioned. Josephine isn’t around to announce my engagement
either. I thought we had a deal. I’m honest with you and you’re honest with me,
which is the only reason I’m choosing not to be thoroughly pissed off with you
right now. It was not
me
. I don’t
know who did it and I don’t care.” Her cheeks turned a luscious shade of pink. “That
person did me a favor as far as I’m concerned. I like hanging out with you.”

Jeremy sat back in his chair, boneless and weak. He was so
fucking happy to hear her say that, he could hardly contain himself. When
Jocelyn was cleared, his father would accept her. Kenneth had a bad impression
of her because he thought she was guilty. When there was proof she was
innocent, his father would change his mind and Jeremy wouldn’t have to stop
seeing her. They could be a real couple after this week. This could really happen.
The possibility of being Jocelyn’s boyfriend, of seeing her every night, taking
care of her, talking to her about her day—the prospect made Jeremy so happy, he
could hardly breathe.

Jeremy nodded, smiling at her, and lifted his fork to keep
eating. Everything in him wanted to leap across the table and ravish her on the
kitchen floor.

Jocelyn got to her feet and flipped the dial on the stove to
turn off the stew. The apple torte was still in the oven, keeping warm. “Are
you busy?” she asked.

“I’m eating but I wouldn’t call that—”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall to her
bedroom. Jocelyn kicked the door open. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
She dragged him inside.

Jeremy closed the door and pulled her into his arms, crushing
her against his chest. “We must be psychically connected. I was about to go all
caveman on you on the kitchen floor.”

“We seem to like having sex with each other.”

“We seem to be good at it,” he said, his voice strangling.

Jeremy felt for the zipper on her dress and tugged on it,
releasing her from the smooth cotton sheath. Jocelyn was completely naked
underneath. His legs buckled a little. “Was this for me?”

“Just you,” she whispered and kissed him deeply.
“Only you.”

THE MANAGING editor of the
Gazette
listened with heroic patience to his reporter’s convoluted
story about Andrea meeting Janice
Feron
on the town
green, only it didn’t look like Janice because Trevor has sisters and that made
him an expert on hair color.

“Say again?” Jason Fiske asked wearily. “What does Andrea
have to do with your sisters’ hair color?”

“Not
Andrea
—Janice
Feron
.
You know, the chick who was engaged to
Sheriff McIntyre. She changed her hair color. She’s not a blonde anymore, she’s
a brunette, but it’s the same woman. I saw her talking to Andrea last night.
They were huddled together plotting the overthrow of the
Gazette.
”

Trevor giggled and leaned back in his chair. His unfinished
story on the escape of
Lavery’s
cows sat on his
computer. Procrastination was Trevor
Ottoway’s
middle
name and now it seemed he meant to make it Jason’s as well.

“What does one thing have to do with the other? You’re a
reporter—where’s this story going? Andrea was talking to Janice last night.
Okay. What does that have to do with the
Gazette
?”

Trevor looked offended. “Hey, I’m just the messenger. I
thought it was interesting is all. Janice
Feron
is in
town—in disguise—at the same time an anonymous engagement notice is posted in
the paper by the only person who could’ve posted it—Andrea
Tarnham
.”

Jason propped his elbows on his desk, clutched his hair and
moaned. “Obviously you have a theory and you aren’t going to let it go until
you tell me. So speak.”

“Andrea is in cahoots with Janice. Or maybe it’s the other
way around. Janice is probably the mastermind. But they’re behind the bogus
classified
ad.
” Trevor squinted at the ceiling, his
mouth pursed. “I don’t know Andrea’s reason for doing it, but Janice
Feron
has had it in for the boss ever since Shelby stole
the sheriff away from her.”

Jason stared at his junior reporter like he’d gone insane. “
Trev
, you’ve got to stop reading
fanfic
and get a clue. Janice
Feron
was in town for the
wedding like the rest of New York. Dyed hair isn’t a disguise and the boss didn’t
steal the sheriff. Janice left the guy high and dry.”

“Have it your way, but Andrea is mixed up in something and
it could get her fired if the boss finds out. I’m just giving you the heads-up
is all. When the shit hits the fan, be ready.”

“Why are you only telling me this now,” Jason demanded
crabbily. “You had all day to give me the fucking heads-up. It’s after six and
I still don’t have today’s copy from you.”

“Wow,” Trevor whistled. “Just wow. I did not expect this
hostility.
Backlash for doing the right thing by coming to
you first when I should have gone to the boss.
I didn’t get a chance to
talk to you earlier. Busy, remember? Got
Lavery’s
cows to chase on a weekly basis, okay? I’m telling you now. I saw Andrea with Janice
and when the boss finds out, it’s going to get ugly around here.”

“You overestimate the boss’s level of interest. She won’t
give a shit.”

“Then why did you tell Jeremy Marks it was you who put the
ad in the paper? Falling on the sword for
Tarnham
is
only going to cause trouble when the truth gets out. All I’m saying is you and
Andrea better have your stories straight before the boss figures it out herself.”

Jason jumped to his feet and snatched up his jacket, grinding
his teeth. “It’s like fucking middle school around here!”

Trevor looked up from his computer in mild surprise. “Where
are you going?”

“Where do you think? To the diner to order us some goddamned
take-out! At the rate you’re going, I can tell it’s going to be another late
night. If you see Andrea, do me a favor and shut the fuck up about that
engagement notice. It’s over, got it? It’s over because I said it’s over and if
you say one more word about it, I’m going to fire your ass. Now, do you want a
cheeseburger or bratwurst for dinner?”

“Cheeseburger, thanks,” Trevor said in a cowed voice.
“And a coke if you don’t mind.”

Jason Fiske nodded and slammed out of the newspaper office,
marching toward the diner, fuelled by anger and worry over Andrea.

♥

FILLMORE RIDGE was empty, they had the place to themselves,
but Ryan felt vaguely ridiculous bringing her there. Paula had lain down on the
backseat to keep out of sight when they drove through town. It bothered his
conscious that he was sneaking around with her but she said she understood his
need for privacy. They’d talked for hours last night and just when he thought
he’d ended it, they fell into bed together.

“Jeremy wants to take you out,” he said, injecting a note of
friendly disinterest in the announcement. “You should consider going out with
him. He’s your age, a nice guy. You had a good time with him at the wedding.
You should go out with him when he calls.”

Ryan cleared his throat and tried to enjoy the view.
Fillmore Ridge was the make-out spot for the local teenagers.
Great.
If his
brother was on patrol tonight....

“Jeremy is in love with Jocelyn Tate. He’s not going to call
me.”

She was wearing a green dress printed with tiny yellow
flowers that fitted her body tightly and then flared to a bell shape. She was
too short for her weight, Ryan thought. Paula was curvy. The curviest woman he’d
ever been with.

Girl,
he reminded
himself. Paula was ten years younger than him. Ryan had brought her here to
talk it out and end the affair amicably.

“We aren’t right for each other,” he said.

Paula leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. Her neck
was pretty. She gazed at him without blame or anger in her gray eyes that were
like silver in the moonlight. “I know. I’m okay with whatever you decide to
do.”

The ball was back in his court. If she got angry, they could
at least have a big fight and end it that way. If she had
any
reaction at all, other than this calm resignation, Ryan could
end it. This is how the discussion started last night and he wound up in bed
with her.

Paula Dunlop had the silkiest skin he’d ever touched. And she
smelled like strawberries. Her body was too soft and plump for his taste, yet he
couldn’t get enough of her. He was insatiable last night. He never meant for
any of that to happen when he showed up at her apartment.

“We have to stop seeing each other.”

“Okay.”

“Just like that—okay? You don’t even want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to talk about it. If
it’s not there then it’s not there.”

“If what’s
not there?”

“Chemistry.
Love rising. If we don’t
have it, there’s nothing we can do to get it so we should call it quits.”

“Love—rising?
You mean like bread
dough? I don’t get it. What does it mean?”

“Jocelyn Tate’s mom used to say it. I went to Mandrake Falls
High with
Joce
. We used to hang out once in a while
until she decided she needed a better class of friends. Her mom was a sweetie
though. Love rising was her expression. I guess it’s kind of like yeast. When
there’s chemistry between two people and it’s about to turn into something but
not quite there yet. You can’t manufacture it or expect it to develop over
time. It’s either there between people or it isn’t.” She frowned. “I don’t
think yeast can be killed, but it can be made to go dormant. I’ll have to look
it up. But it’s the same principle—yeast or love. It rises.”

“Do you think we have yeast?” he asked half-seriously and
then he could have kicked himself for asking. He didn’t want to know. He was
ending with her. How did she draw him into these conversations?

Paula said “Yes.”

Ryan melted against the back seat and gathered her in his
arms. She clung to him as he kissed her feverishly, all the while thinking that
this was the last time. He had to end it.

He
had
to.

♥

THE PHONE was ringing in the kitchen. Jocelyn rolled in
Jeremy’s arms. They had dozed off after making love for the second time. Jeremy
claimed she was trying to starve him into sexual submission. He wanted to go
back to the kitchen and retrieve his unfinished chicken stew but she wouldn’t
let him.

“Go,” she had said. “I’m not stopping you. I’ll be
here—waiting.”

She had reclined against the pillows, her blonde hair fanned
out about her head, her long legs falling open ever so slightly—just enough to
give Jeremy ideas. He had hardened almost immediately and forgot all about the
stew.

Jocelyn squinted at her alarm clock. They’d been in bed for
three hours. The phone rang again, shrilly insistent that she get up and answer
it. Jocelyn dragged her silk wrapper over her shoulders and hurried to the
kitchen. Her telephone was the old push button type attached to the wall, a
model from the 1970’s, moss green to match the painted plywood cupboards.
Jocelyn picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“
Joce
,
Jocie
?
I’m sorry. I—I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been sick these days—getting over a cold
or something—can’t shake it off, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry I hit you.
I am so sorry. I promised your mother I would never hit you and I blew it. I
blew it....”

“Dad?
What’s wrong? Don’t worry
about what happened—it’s forgotten. How long have you been sick? Why didn’t you
tell me?”

Jeremy had followed her into the kitchen. He watched her
face transform from mild irritation to real fear. Jocelyn turned away and
cupped her hand over the receiver to muffle her response. He heard it anyway.

“How bad is it? Are you coughing or is it your sinus again? Do
you need a doctor? Dad, just tell me—that sounds serious. Call Dr. Lewis—we’ll
figure it out—Dad?
Dad—!”

Jeremy took the receiver from her hand. He listened to the
hollow void on the other end and then the line went dead. He hung up and caught
her hand. “Come on, we’ll get dressed and go check on him. I had less than a
glass of wine three hours ago; I’m okay to drive.”

 
She glanced back with
anguish at the meal she had made. She’d wanted to do something nice for Jeremy
and her father seemed determined to interfere. This was just the beginning. He
was going to demand her attention until Jeremy got tired of coming in second
and dropped her. Norm might really be sick or he might be playing the sympathy
card. It was hard to tell with Norm. When he wanted something he wasn’t above
manipulation to get it.

They dressed hurriedly, Jocelyn in sweatpants and the
baseball jersey she had from high school. She jammed a hat on her head and let
Jeremy help her into her spring jacket. He didn’t say much but having him
there, making decisions and taking care of her, calmed her down.

March was warming up fast and furious. The snow was almost
gone. In another week the daffodils would be up in her back yard.

Jeremy swung the Toyota out onto the highway as she directed
and Jocelyn felt the familiar dread in her stomach of bringing a friend to the
house she grew up in. But this time it was different. She knew she wouldn’t
have to apologize to Jeremy or make excuses for her family’s poverty. The Tate
family weren’t bad people; just the type that attracted bad luck. Jeremy wouldn’t
judge her but she was terrified nonetheless for dragging him into her family’s
problems. Sickness meant bankruptcy and this time the slide would be permanent.
If her dad needed long-term care, she’d have to move home to help pay the bills.

Norm lived on the outside of town—very outside. Jocelyn
could make out the signs for the town dump even in the dark. She told Jeremy to
turn left onto the dirt road that skirted it. She’d spent a lot of time in that
dump when she was a kid, scrounging for anything that could be salvaged. Most
of her bedroom furniture had come from there, a fact she kept to herself.

“Dad’s house is at the end of the road, hidden in the pines.
The lights are on. That’s a good sign don’t you think?”

Norman Tate had housed his small family in a smaller trailer
that had been extended by additions shooting out at all angles. Some of the
additions had sagged over the years from a combination of snow load and cheap
materials. Norm had tried to create a uniform look by cladding everything in
red vinyl siding.

Jeremy pulled up to the house and turned off the motor.
Jocelyn peered through the windshield at the house she thought she’d left
behind four years ago.

“Norm thought red was cheerful. He wanted my mom to have
something happy to look at when she was working in the garden. It doesn’t look
great now but you should’ve seen this place when Mom’s garden was in bloom.
There were hollyhocks and sunflowers and she even got roses to grow. Dad let it
go to weed after she died. I did my best but I was busy with school and
part-time jobs.”

Jeremy only nodded.

“When Norm got it into his head I was his golden ticket out of
here, he cheered up. You think your dad is disappointed?” She tried to laugh
about it. “Norm expected me to be living in a Park Avenue penthouse by now.
Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Jocelyn opened the squeaking metal door and Jeremy followed
her inside. The living area was on the right and the rest of the space was
divided by a lunch counter. The kitchen was decorated in avocado and harvest
gold. It would have been chic forty years ago.

“Dad?”