Tangled Thing Called Love (35 page)

Holly had somehow gotten hold of the official Miss Quail Hollow tiara, the one that would have crowned the winner if the final night of the pageant had actually been held.

“We, the assembled, do hereby declare ourselves the official board members of the Miss Quail Hollow competition,” Holly said. “All those in favor.”

Seven ayes.

One “This is against the rules” from Gretchen Wuntz.

“First order of business—” Holly began.

“Who made you boss?” Tabitha Tritt-Shimmel sniped.

Holly thrust the tiara at her. “You want it? Go ahead, Danica Patrick.”

Tabitha grinned. She shoved the tiara back at Holly. “Just playin’.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “Okay. Who gets the title of Ms. Big Kahuna?”

“It should be Mazie,” Rosie Martinez said promptly. “She was tied with Sophie when the Olsons pulled her out.” She thrust the tiara at Mazie.

“Forget it.” Mazie refused to even touch the crown “Give it to the runner-up. I guess that would have been Channing, but now it’s you, Holly.”

“I pass. The crown is cursed! Set that thing on my head, I guarantee you, nine months from now Greenberg number five will be popping out!”

Holly handed it to Rosie Martinez. “Here you are, Miss Second Runner-Up.”

Rosie held it by the tips of her fingers. “No way. It’s got Curse cooties.”

It passed to Tabitha. “I don’t believe any of that Curse garbage.” She squinted at the tiara, sparkling in the chandelier’s soft glow. “On the other hand, our tax returns are being audited next week, and it doesn’t hurt to cover all your bases. So, I pass. Darlene?”

“The Curse is bullshit,” Darlene Krumke said, handling the tiara gingerly. “But I work with sharp knives and hot fryer fat all day … so, just to be on the safe side—no, thank you.”

The tiara passed from hand to hand, the beauty queen version of Hot Potato.

“I don’t believe in the Curse either,” Ashley Dorfmann sniffed when the tiara reached her. “But I had unprotected sex last night.”

They all turned to stare at her. “It was with my
boyfriend
,” she said, blushing. “I’m not a slut, like some people I could mention.”

Gretchen Wuntz’s turn. She took the tiara, set it on her head, and checked herself out in the mirror. “It looks good on me,” she said. She was right. Somehow the tiara softened the sharp lines of her face. Reluctantly, Gretchen removed it. “But I didn’t earn the title. It would be cheating.”

Finally the tiara came back to Mazie. This time she picked it up.

“I know a real beauty queen,” Mazie said. “She’s kind, beautiful, and she raised over five thousand dollars—”

“Are you talking about your grandma?” Holly interrupted. “The one who talked you
into wearing that dress?”

“Yes. She—”

“In a way, it’s too bad the pageant got canceled,” Tabitha cut in. “Because if you’d showed up for the finals in that yellow submarine, I’d have trounced you.”

“There ya go, Tabby,” Holly said. “The true pageant spirit—stomp the competition.”

“All those in favor of making Mrs. Maguire the new queen,” Rosie said.

The restroom rocked with
ayes
.

Which was why Katie Maguire was wearing the crown. She planned to wear it to her next card game and make her friends call her “Your Majesty.” Gran gave Mazie a long hug. Then she turned to Ben and hugged him, too. “Take care of my granddaughter,” she told him. “She can be a little reckless sometimes.”

“I kinda noticed that.” Ben smiled and kissed Katie. “I promise to take very good care of her.”

They’d just finished stowing their suitcases in the back of the car when a police car rolled down the driveway. Ben and Mazie heaved sighs. They’d given statements, gone over everything a million times—what more did they have to do?

Johnny Hoolihan got out of the patrol car. He held up his hands to show that they didn’t contain a notebook. “No questions, I promise.” He grinned. “Just stopped by to wish you a safe trip back.”

He and Ben regarded each other, then they solemnly shook hands.

“Nice job on Oscar Woods’ face,” Johnny said.

“Thanks,” Labeck said, looking pleased, though an unspoken conversation was also taking place.

Labeck:
I walk off with the girl. Too bad for you
.

Hoolihan:
But you’re coming back in two weeks. And all’s fair in love and war
.

Chapter Forty

“Are we lost?” Mazie asked, wondering why Ben was turning off the main highway onto a winding secondary road. Below, she could glimpse the Wisconsin River through the trees.

“Me—lost? Are you kidding?” Checking his GPS—which he still didn’t trust—Ben slowed down and turned onto a bumpy blacktop road. After a half mile they pulled up in front of a small motel. Ben cut the engine, turned, and looked at her. “You don’t have to be back tonight, do you?”

“No, but you do.” It was already four in the afternoon, it would be late when they got back to Milwaukee, and Ben had to report for work tomorrow morning.

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise,” Ben said, “but they gave me an extra day of vacation. Right now I’m golden. Thanks to all the video I sent in on the Fawn story, WPAK’s ratings went through the roof.” He took Mazie’s hand in his, suddenly seeming nervous, almost shy. “I thought maybe we could spend the night together before we went back.”

“Here, you mean?” Mazie’s heart leaped. The motel was called The Willows. Its exterior was weathered wood and stone, and it looked as though it had been built by Tolkien’s tree elves. “Do you think they’d have a room?”

“Yeah. I reserved one.”

“Ben! You didn’t!”

“Remember how you called me a stuffed-shirt, stick-in-the-mud old fogy?”

“I never did!”

“General concept, okay? So to prove what a fun-loving, spur-of-the-moment, feel-the-music kind of guy I am, I booked us a room.” He got out, came around, and opened the door for her. “Ready?”

Not really. She was still in shock. It wouldn’t have mattered to Mazie if the place had been the Roach Motel. The fact that Ben Labeck—a guy who gave plumb bobs as gifts—had planned this was enough.

“Wait here, okay?” he said. “I’ll run in and get our key.”

Mazie waited, feeling a fluttering in her chest that slowly spread through her entire body. Every cell seemed to be vibrating with excitement, joy, and anticipation. And now the man she loved was walking toward her, the breeze ruffling his hair, his dark eyes seeking hers. He was holding a key. “It’s a couple minutes’ walk,” he said, pointing toward the woods. He grabbed Mazie’s suitcase—hoisting it as though it weighed nothing; no wonky wheel problems for him—and led Mazie along a path that paralleled the river.

Mazie had thought there’d be another building back here, but when they came out into a wide clearing, she gasped in surprise. There, perched in a gargantuan willow tree that looked as ancient as the Ice Age, was a tree house. It was made of honey-colored wood, with large windows, a railed deck, and a curving stairway leading up to it. It overlooked the wooded hillside, the river below, and the valley beyond. Above sandstone bluffs, swallows scythed across the sky like blue-black scissors.

Only one word did it justice:
spectacular
.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Mazie whispered. “It’s so—”

“Uncharacteristic?” Ben laughed. “Okay, I’ll fess up. Scully and I were talking yesterday and he happened to mention how women like it when their guys surprise them with umm … romantic places.”

“You’re taking advice from
Scully
? The guy who once serenaded a girl beneath her window and got tuna casserole dumped on his head? Cats were coming from miles around to rub up against him.”

Ben grinned. “He didn’t mention that.” He looked at her. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. Very, very romantic.” Standing on tiptoe, Mazie kissed his cheek.

The house wasn’t really built into the tree, she saw as they climbed the stairs. It was built solidly on beams driven deep into the earth, but positioned so that it seemed to be resting in the grip of the tree’s giant limbs. Inside, it was even prettier than outside, much larger than she’d expected, with warm pine walls, comfortable furniture, and a four-poster bed with a soft, quilted, leaf green coverlet. There was a kitchenette and a bathroom, though they must have had to use elf-magic to install plumbing up here.

“And just like
your
tree house,” Ben said, “it has a hole in the roof.”

Mazie tilted her head, smiling. There was a skylight. You could lie in the bed and
look straight up at the stars or the shivering leaves or falling snow or swooping swallows.

“No grandmothers, notice?” Ben said.

“No twins.”

“No beauty queens falling off boats.”

“No werewolves.”

“Cell phones off.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, and Mazie saw her own eagerness mirrored in Ben.

“Just one more thing,” Ben said.

“There’s more?”

“I promised to take you dancing.”

Ben reached into his pocket and retrieved his iPod. He placed it on the docking station on the nightstand table. He scrolled until he found what he was looking for: “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye.

Mazie giggled. He was such a guy.
Her
guy.

Ben closed the distance between them in two long strides. He grabbed Mazie’s left hand, drew her in, and placed his other hand on the small of her back. God, he smelled good. A mixture of Old Spice and male pheromones.

They began to sway in time to the music. He kissed the top of her head. Her nose. Her fingers. He let go of her hand and slowly dragged his fingers down the length of her arm, down her side, and along the bare skin just above the waistband of her jeans.

“I love you, Mazie,” he said softly.

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Mazie raised her face to his. His eyes held hers. He meant it, she saw.
Ben Labeck had said, “I love you”!

Which tangled her feet and made her stumble. Ben caught her, drew her tight against him, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. She kissed him back. They kissed their way over to the bed. Hot, demanding, take-no-prisoners kisses.

Mazie pulled his shirt out of his pants.

He pulled her T-shirt over her head. Had her bra off in seconds.

His shirt, his jeans, Mazie’s jeans, underpants. Tossed aside. And then there was nothing between her and the man she adored, just the lovely sensation of his skin on hers.

His hands were magic; they knew exactly where to touch, how to drive her insane with desire. Her body was clenched and eager and urgent, and Ben was strung like a bow; she sensed that it was taking all his self-control to hold back, to wait for her to get there.

But she got there. They both got there; they took the human cannonball route and got there in a convulsive explosion that made Mazie scream and nearly blow out Ben’s eardrums.

Afterward, panting and sweaty, they lay atop the comforter. They’d never gotten around to getting under the sheets.

“You were awfully noisy,” Ben said, smiling smugly.

“You weren’t exactly mute yourself.” She smiled back. “I hope we don’t have neighbors.”

“Nope. This is the one and only treetop motel room for miles around. We’ve got dinner reservations for later, too.”

“No end of surprises with you today.”

“The place has a band. We can dance some more. I want you to experience my moves.”

“I’ve experienced your moves. I like them. A lot.”

He nuzzled her neck. “Ready for more?”

“You’re joking.”

He turned her toward him, propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at her. “I am not joking.” His deep, sexy baritone set every cell in her body aquiver. “I have six weeks’ worth of celibacy to make up for.”

“You … umm … said you didn’t—in L.A. Did you mean it?” It was a sore topic, and she didn’t want to talk about it, but knew they had to.

“No. I didn’t sleep with anyone. I went out a couple of times, like I told you. I was lonely for female company and you weren’t answering my messages.”

“You never said why you came back.”

He picked a damp strand of hair off her neck. “Isn’t it obvious? Because I missed you. Missed you insanely.”

“I missed you too. It was like I was dead inside. Muffin was all that kept me going.”

“I don’t want us to be separated again, Mazie.”

Mazie took a deep breath and did an all-over body wriggle, feeling she couldn’t contain all her happiness. She was with the man she loved, the man who’d just told her he loved her. In the heat of the moment, she realized, she hadn’t said “I love you” back—but her body had done the talking for her, hadn’t it? And they were going to spend the night together, in the same bed! It would take more than a night with Ben Labeck, though, because there was still a lot she wanted to know about this wonderful, brave, complicated—and frequently infuriating—man.

But she’d learned a few surprising new things about him this week.

He liked kids.

He wasn’t afraid to make a complete fool of himself over a baby.

He had a hoop skirt fetish, and anytime she wanted to drive him wild, she just had to channel her inner Scarlett O’Hara.

Ben gathered her into his arms. “I like your family,” he murmured.

“Even the twins?”

Ben wigwagged his hand. “When we have kids,” he said, “let’s have girls.”

“Deal.”

To the Oshkosh Area Writers Club

Thank you for all your support.

Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank my wonderful agent Andrea Somberg for her help in finding the right home for my stories at Random House. Also my editor, Sue Grimshaw, who manages to keep a myriad of balls in the air at the same time, possibly using supernatural powers. Finally, thank you, Tom Cherwin and Crystal Velasquez, for your superb copyediting. I stand in awe of your skills.

B
Y
J
ULIET
R
OSETTI

The Escape Diaries