Love Rising: Spring (Mandrake Falls Series Romance Book 4) Page 10

  She had to kiss him for that. She just had to.

  Jocelyn pushed up on her elbows and kissed him very gently and tenderly on the mouth. He stroked her hair. The obligations and restrictions of their past and future faded away. She knew who he was and he knew her too. That’s all they needed to be happy for this night at least. Jocelyn thought he might feel differently in a week or so, but if anything, Jeremy Marks acted like he was more in love with her, not less.

  “What exactly is it that you like about me?” Jocelyn asked.

  “Everything.”

  “That’s not true. That’s not even possible. We all have flaws.”

  “I like your flaws.”

  “Then you’re the only one who does.”

  “I’m the only one who counts.”

  He pulled her down and spiked his fingers through her hair, kissing her deeply. She slid on top of him, straddling his erection. Jocelyn guided him inside her and held on. Jeremy groaned and caught her hips, lifting her up and down, joining her in the act with each upward thrust.

  He lasted longer this time but still not long enough. Jeremy wasn’t worried. They had all night. Jocelyn wasn’t in a hurry to leave. She clung to him and cried out when she came, and then sobbed quietly against his shoulder as he held her.

  Of all the girls in Mandrake Falls, Jeremy would’ve thought Jocelyn Tate was the girl most likely to have lots of guys in love with her. Tonight, he realized of all the girls in Mandrake Falls, Jocelyn Tate was probably the loneliest. Even if her father hadn’t brainwashed her into marrying rich, most of the guys their age wouldn’t have the guts to ask her out. She was too beautiful.

  He knew it wasn’t his moves that made her cling to him the way she did. Jeremy had no moves. He had no skills with girls. He had a code of honor that was based more or less on what would make his mom proud. The rest he learned from books by reading between the lines. To look at him, anyone would believe he wouldn’t have the confidence to make love to a girl like Jocelyn. But here she was lying in his arms. Whatever he had to offer her as a man, Jocelyn seemed to need it.

  Jeremy pondered how wrong a person’s perceptions could be—his about her and hers about him. She had the face of a goddess but the heart of a mortal girl and he had the lifestyle of a pauper and the family tree of a—

  “Did your mom feel the same about not throwing yourself away on poor guys?” he asked out of nowhere.

  “Oh no,” Jocelyn said softly. “My mom believed in love. A love rising she called it.”

  “A love rising? What does it mean?”

  “You know, like sap rising—something pushing to be released. She’d see two people together—just standing together—and she’d lean over, jab me in the ribs and whisper: ‘There’s a love rising, Jocelyn.’ Her predictions were usually right. My mom was a hopeless romantic who believed in love at first sight, soul mates, eternal love—all that stuff.”

  “And you don’t?”

  Jocelyn lay on her stomach with her arms tucked under her for warmth. Her shoulders were bony. She had a full mouth and a slight overbite that plumped her lips out. Her mouth was perfectly curled at the corners even when she wasn’t smiling and she had a wide blue gaze enhanced by the dark smudges under her eyes. Lack of sleep or genetics, the smudges made her look vulnerable and increased her desirability. She was so perfect he forgot it was rude to stare, as if she was an image in a magazine.

  “As much as I want to believe that happiness can come through love alone, I can’t forget the years of trying to pay the bills and the fear in my dad’s eyes. We got phone calls from bill collectors every single day. Some weeks, it came down to a choice between paying a bill and eating. I’m not going to put my kids through anything like that. My kids are never going to worry about anything. My mom was a lovely person and I’ll love her forever, but I can’t afford to let my heart have its own way like she did.”

  A love rising.

  Jeremy thought about Mrs. Tate and how right she was.

  Chapter 10: Mystery Solved

  AT THAT very moment, Andrea Tarnham was walking with her head down through Mandrake Falls, cutting across the town green to reach the movie theater. The last show was just letting out. She hung back, trying to look inconspicuous in a town where everybody knew everybody else. And they knew her in particular because she worked at the Gazette.

  It was chilly. Andrea stamped her feet in the shadows of the trees and white puffs of air clouded in front of her. She wanted to go home to a hot bath, a cup of cocoa with whipped cream and the new romance novel she’d borrowed from the library. Jason had gone home an hour ago. He’d left the office thinking she was right behind him but she wasn’t. There were a couple of images on her camera that she had to delete first. Jason didn’t twig to anything amiss when he saw the photos of the wedding. But in the background, behind the invited guests, a woman hovered. Shelby Porter would be able to identify her. And she’d know what Andrea had done.

  The woman stepped out of the movie house across the street, as cool and composed as though she had nothing to hide. Now that the audience had let out, Andrea was even more anxious not to get caught loitering on the town green at nine o’clock at night. Someone was sure to spot them together and talk about it tomorrow because that’s what people in this town did.

  But try explaining that to Janice Feron. Sheriff McIntyre’s ex-fiancée had lived in Mandrake Falls for quite a few years and she still didn’t have a clue how things worked around here.

  For a successful New York interior designer, Miss Feron was deeply neurotic. Andrea didn’t object to the woman’s intensity and issues but she had strong objections to being taken down with her if this revenge scheme blew up.

  Andrea waved to get Janice’s attention. The brunette snapped her head but pretended not to notice. She was wearing a Vera Wang trench coat and boots that were the stylish version of Andrea’s old rubber boots. The trench was butter yellow. Janice used to be a blonde but she’d dyed her hair light brown for some reason. Or maybe she was born a brunette and became a blonde and has now gone back. Maybe she did it as sort of a disguise. Andrea pondered the mystery of Janice Feron’s hair color as the woman dashed across the street to meet her.

  “Were you waiting long? It took me forever to get out of there. I didn’t think anyone would still be going to this old movie theater when Ryan opened the Millennium Mall on the highway.”

  “McIntyre Construction amended their original plan to preserve the vibrancy of Main Street. Monday is Zombie Double Feature Night. It’s very popular.” Andrea took lip balm out of her purse and applied it. “What did you want to see me about?”

  Janice had light almond-shaped eyes, the cheekbones of a model, and full lips. Wow, she was gorgeous, thought Andrea. Sheriff McIntyre must’ve really loved Shelby Porter to walk out on Janice Feron. It was not true that the boss was seeing the sheriff on the sly while he was still engaged to Janice, but the rumor persisted all the same. Andrea thought it was romantic.

  Janice hoisted her shoulder bag and glanced behind her. “I wanted to know if there’s been any blow back yet.”

  “Not really.” Andrea shrugged. “I told you there wouldn’t be. Jeremy showed up at the office, upset, but he’s not going to sue. He’s not the type. We haven’t heard a peep out of Jocelyn, which is very strange. Has Ryan said anything?” She tried not to sound too eager.

  Janice smiled gleefully. “I sent him an email saying I was sorry he was reduced to asking another man’s fiancée to be his date for the wedding, but that’s what living in Mandrake Falls will do to you. The men have to fish from the same gene pool.” Her cool blue eyes traveled over Andrea. “Ryan was embarrassed so mission accomplished on that front. I want to know how Shelby took it.”

  “She was angry but as long as we print a correction notice, there won’t be any lasting harm done. I just want you to know, I never meant to hurt the paper or anyone. I only did it to break up Ryan and Jocelyn. He deserves better.”

  “R
yan McIntyre got exactly what he deserves. He embarrassed me last fall, now it’s his turn. Did you delete the photos like I asked? Especially the ones of me in the church. No one has recognized me so far. We have to keep this visit off the record for both our sakes.” Janice smiled knowingly at Andrea. “Somehow I knew you were the right person to recruit for this little mission of mine. You have sort of a crush on my former brother-in-law, don’t you?”

  Andrea blushed furiously. “He wasn’t your brother-in-law. You dumped Sheriff McIntyre before you got married. I only agreed to help you because Jocelyn Tate is a money-grubbing, brainless bitch who is only interested in him for his money. I didn’t want her to win.”

  “I’ll be honest,” Janice hugged her arms to her chest, “I expected to get more traction out of this. I expected Jeremy Marks at least to call Shelby Porter out.”

  “That’s not his style. He was upset—like really upset but not about the notice. He was upset that his mother was mentioned.”

  “I imagine so.” Janice nodded. “You screwed up there. His mom is dead.”

  Andrea’s mouth sagged. “You knew and you didn’t tell me? You said to make the announcement look like it was coming from his parents. You never said anything about his mom being dead.”

  “I assumed you knew. Everyone knows Jeremy Marks was raised by his father. Actually, I wonder if Kenneth Marks has got wind of this so-called engagement. He might threaten to sue if he thinks the Gazette made his son look foolish. Did Jeremy give you the sense he felt like an idiot?”

  “Of course he felt like an idiot. He said it like ten times. How do you know Jeremy’s dad?”

  Janice smoothed a strand of hair out of her eyes. She sounded bored. “Everyone knows Kenneth Marks.”

  “Why, is he famous or something?”

  Janice laughed. “You could say that. Kenneth Marks is Marks Communications. He’s a billionaire heavy hitter in New York, London, Los Angeles ... I guess the town of Mandrake Falls has more important things to do than read the Wall Street Journal.” Her smile was brittle.

  “Jeremy Marks is rich?” Andrea breathed.

  “Close your mouth, sweetie, you’ll catch something. Strictly speaking, Jeremy is not rich, but his father is, yes. Jeremy moved out when he was eighteen, determined to make his own way and so far he has been a resounding failure. Kenneth Marks doesn’t see it that way, of course, as few fathers do until they’re forced to bail their kid out. Kenneth believes if his son is working and paying the rent, he’s a success. He claims to be proud of Jeremy’s latest occupation—the stage manager for an aged regional theater.” Janice shuddered. “Maybe I’ll email Kenneth the link to the announcement. Is the Gazette online yet? When a man in his position sees how the Gazette has compromised the Marks name—actually now that I think of it, it was a stroke of genius including Kenneth Marks’ dead wife in the notice. That will completely infuriate him. He’s very protective of Jeremy. Best of all, no one can blame me for it because I knew his wife was dead! Look, I’ve got to run. I’m catching a plane back to New York in the morning and I still have to pack.”

  She reached out and for a second Andrea thought she was going to hug her, but instead, Janice flicked some dandruff off Andrea’s shoulder.

  “You know something sweetie? You could be pretty if you tried. Not Jocelyn Tate pretty, but definitely a seven. Take my advice. If you ever want to attract a man like Ryan McIntyre—lose ten pounds, get a makeover and do something with your hair. You have good skin but the rest of it is a disaster. So long, Andrea darling, and thanks for all your help! It has been tremendously fun even if it wasn’t as explosive as I’d hoped.”

  Janice dashed back across the street to the bright lights of the movie marquee and Andrea slouched off for home. The slow build of panic she was currently experiencing would be medicated with hot chocolate and a romance novel. She wanted a man like Ryan McIntyre but she wasn’t going to fix the disaster that was Andrea Tarnham in one night.

  TREVOR OTTOWAY stood under the marquee, watching the two women talking. They were unaware he was spying on them and even if they were aware, that wouldn’t bother Trevor. He popped a Raisinette in his mouth and wondered what they were talking about.

  He knew the woman he saw at Michael Shannon’s wedding was Janice Feron and here was the proof. Jason didn’t believe him because her hair color was different. Trevor had four sisters. Girls changed their hair color like he changed his socks. It was Janice he saw all right and here she was again, still in town, hanging out on the town green deep in conversation with the girl responsible for the Classified ads.

  Interesting.

  He popped another Raisinette in his mouth. He’d tell Jase about this interesting development in the morning and let him deal with it. It probably meant nothing ... but since Andrea was the only one with access to the Classifieds template and Janice Feron had a grudge against the boss ... it fit.

  Trevor pondered the mystery of the female mind, wondering how he could work that into the zombie apocalypse novel he was working on, and strolled off home.

  LETITIA MURDOCH settled into the large armchair she had stationed near the fire and lifted the glass of Cabernet to her lips. She took a sip, rolling the warmth and fruit around in her mouth and gave thanks to God for France and grapes. Then she turned her thoughts to the scene outside the hardware store between Jocelyn and her father. Jeremy’s burst of manhood, defending his lady. What a display! Letitia had felt quite proud of him in that moment. She had a strong suspicion the engagement announcement was behind the drama.

  It amused her that the girls at the Beauty Box thought she was responsible for the rogue advertisement. And it was interesting that neither Paula nor Darlene thought it was real. In particular that Paula didn’t believe it. Letitia didn’t believe it either but that’s only because she knew who wrote it. How it made it into the paper was the real mystery. Undoubtedly, Andrea Tarnham would have an explanation.

  Letitia took another sip of wine. A bit of a dark horse that girl. Possibly still a virgin. Carrying a torch for Ryan McIntyre. Yes, she had a motive for throwing a monkey wrench into Jocelyn’s little romance. Such antics usually came back to bite one in one’s derriere.

  Poor Jocelyn appeared quite humbled and miserable when Jeremy helped her into the car. You could’ve heard a pin drop in the crowd. Letitia Murdoch wasn’t surprised to see them together. She was no fool, though Jocelyn Tate certainly was. The girl made her life far more difficult than it had to be.

  Letitia sighed. Still, youth must have its way. At some point Jocelyn Tate was bound to realize she had latent feelings for Jeremy Marks and that’s why she tortured the boy so. Letitia had eyes in her head; she could see what was going on between those two during rehearsals this past winter.

  Or perhaps Jocelyn really was a fool and Jeremy would eventually fall in love with someone else. That would be the best outcome, if Letitia was honest. Jeremy would suffer for a time but there would be another love one day. There always was. And the boy was only twenty-three for heaven’s sake. There would be many loves before he found the right girl. Jeremy’s problem was that he was convinced Jocelyn was the only girl for him. For the life of her, Letitia could not understand what that boy saw in Jocelyn Tate. Whatever it was, no one else did. She reminded Letitia of that actress her father had fallen in love with. Another gold-digger.

  It wouldn’t do to tell Kenneth Marks about his son’s love interest. The man worried too much as it was. Kenneth Marks called on occasion to ask how his son was coping with the job. Letitia knew that what he was really asking was how Jeremy was coping with being alone. The boy was awkward; he’d never had a real girlfriend. Letitia’s answer was what of it? Why were adults in such a hurry to see young people in relationships? He was alone but not lonely she told Kenneth. Kenneth Marks would like to change that for his son, but as the slogan goes: you can’t buy love.

  Jocelyn would disagree, mused Letitia. If ever a girl’s love was for sale, that one’s was.


  PAULA DUNLOP climbed into her flannel pajamas and bunny slippers and curled up on the sofa under the crocheted throw blanket she’d had since childhood. She picked up the remote and flicked through the movie selections for the evening. Nothing but romance movies and she couldn’t bear to watch people falling in love tonight. Her hand drifted to the box of chocolates on the coffee table. Paula lifted a rum-n-butter infused caramel to her mouth as The Hunger Games flicked across the screen. Nope. There was the kiss between Katniss and Peeta. Paula pushed the arrow button. There had to be something on with no love scenes in it. Reading wasn’t an alternative. Every book on her keeper shelf was a romance.

  She gave up. Paula pushed another button and the screen went dark. She burrowed deeper into the cushions of the couch and pulled the throw blanket over her head. The chocolate was melting sweetly in her mouth but it didn’t offer the old comfort it used to.

  Her apartment was quiet. Paula lived in the same building as Letitia Murdoch. Fifteen Rosehill Avenue was the address of choice for the single citizens of Mandrake Falls. Mrs. Murdoch had nodded to her on the stair. Paula kept a professional distance, Murdoch being a client of the Beauty Box and all. She had nodded in return and said good evening; pleasantries that made life run like a smooth chocolate caramel.

  Paula wondered how Mrs. Murdoch would take it if she knocked on her door and asked if she could come in and talk about Ryan McIntyre. Specifically, about Ryan touching her today and then calling to ask her out and then standing her up. What did it mean? She told him on the phone she was thinking about him and he said he was thinking about her too.

  The chocolate was gone. She wanted another one, but then she didn’t. Ryan McIntyre had killed her appetite. This was usually her favorite time of day. The dishes were washed and she had the whole evening to herself to watch movies and eat chocolates. Paula had done up the apartment with 1950’s furniture and curtains. Chintz fabrics, Venetian blinds, bright colors and a sense of optimism; her apartment was homey and it suited the age of the building. Her yellow kitchen had a built-in breakfast nook and her bathroom was candy-colored turquoise and pink. She had ruffled sheer curtains hung over the Venetian blinds and chintz panel drapes that matched her couch.