SunnyWithAChanceofTrueLove (2 page)

So Ross was going to do it for her. He was going to show her that there were some people in the world who weren’t afraid to stand up for the people they cared about.

For the seemingly endless ten seconds it took him to reach his challenger, Ross’s heart swelled with bravery and purpose. And in those seconds, anyone looking at the boy would have seen a hero in worn blue jeans and a faded Spiderman tee shirt. Because heroes come in all sizes and shapes, love is as real at twelve as it is at fifty-two, and love makes even the most timid hearts brave.

Even when Spencer bloodied Ross’s nose with one well-aimed punch and he ended up flat on his back on the floor with the bulkier boy straddling his chest, Ross didn’t regret his decision. Even when he got punched in the eye and the stomach before the vice principal pulled him and Spencer apart, he was glad he hadn’t backed down.

The only thing that made him sad was that, by the time he and Spencer were hauled down the hall to the principal’s office, Elodie was gone.

She was gone and she stayed gone.

Ross’s first love moved to Houston with her grandmother and never came back, not even to visit her parents. Eventually, Ross developed another crush, had his first kiss behind the gym at the ninth grade semi-formal, and fell in and out of love with girls who broke his secretly soft heart. He even broke a heart or two of his own, hearts belonging to women who realized too late that they’d found something special in his arms.

And then one day, the girl with the big blue eyes and the dancing hands came home.

And nothing was ever the same again.

CHAPTER ONE

February 2
nd
, Groundhog Day

Fourteen Years Later

Ross

Ross stood, bleary-eyed, beside his friend Tulsi, her daughter Clementine, and a few dozen other Lonesome Point citizens, clutching his coffee in the hazy, pre-dawn light that illuminated the isolated stretch of desert. He tipped the brim of his cowboy hat up a few inches and stared at the wide hole in the ground a few feet away, waiting to see if Adolf the Armadillo was going to make an appearance.

Would Adolf see his shadow and retreat back into his burrow? Would he come out facing the sun and go bravely into the February day? Did it matter either way, since he was an armadillo, and not a groundhog?

“All good questions,” Ross mumbled to himself, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Sh,” Clementine hissed beside him. “You’re going to scare him and we’ll have six more weeks of winter and I won’t get to go on a trail ride before I go home.”

“You’re talking more than I am,” Ross whispered. “I think
you’re
going to scare him.”

“Am not.” Clementine scrunched her upturned nose and tightened her blond ponytail with a determined jerk. “Animals love me. I’m probably an armadillo whisperer, I just don’t know it yet.”

Ross snorted and a smile curved his lips for the first time in two days. It had been two long, miserable days since Meg had dumped him outside of The Ticklish Iguana, in front of his friends and a crowd of curious onlookers, who were probably wondering what a gorgeous girl with jet black hair and two arm sleeves of tattoos was doing with an ordinary guy like Ross in the first place.

Two days during which he’d had time to look deep into the corners of his heart and wonder why he couldn’t seem to keep a girlfriend for more than a few months at a time. Two days during which he’d come up with nothing except the very real possibility that he walked to the tune of a drummer no one else could hear and would spend the rest of his life walking, dancing, and sleeping alone.

“All right armadillo whisperer,” Ross said, refusing to let his depressing love life ruin another morning. He hadn’t been in love with Meg, after all, and it was probably best one of them had called it off before they wasted any more time with a relationship that was never going to develop past the friends-with-benefits stage. “Then I expect you to talk that animal out into the open if he starts acting shy. I need the tourists to come back before I go belly up.”

“Things still slow at the restaurant?” Tulsi asked, a sympathetic look in her blue eyes.

“Yeah.” Ross sighed. “I should have listened to Mia and waited until spring to open. I just wanted to have the kinks worked out before then, you know?”

“I bet things will pick up.” Tulsi patted him on the back. “The weather will get warm and sunny and pretty soon everyone will realize Ross’s Place is the best restaurant in Lonesome Point.”

“Unless you’re cursed,” Clementine said pleasantly.

“Clementine,” Tulsi chided, frowning at her daughter. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. Of course Ross isn’t cursed.”

“
He
might not be,” Clementine said. “But Miss Emily says every restaurant that opens up in the old Blue Plate Café closes in a few months. It’s because the first owner put a curse on it the night he ran away with his forbidden love.”

Tulsi rolled her eyes. “I think Miss Emily and I are going to have to have a talk about which of her stories are appropriate for children.”

“It was appropriate,” Clementine said, indignantly. “We were talking about the old days when black people couldn’t use the same water fountain as white people, like we were learning about in social studies, Mama. And Miss Emily said that in the fifties, Mr. Jim, who owned The Blue Plate, was in love with the preacher’s daughter, Miss Macy, who was white. But they couldn’t be together because a crowd of bad guys beat Mr. Jim up when they found out he and Miss Macy were in love. They said they’d kill him if he didn’t give her up, but he wouldn’t, so they ran away together.” She let out a long sigh. “Isn’t that romantic?”

“It’s sad.” Tulsi’s brow furrowed. “I hate that something like that happened in our sweet little town.”

“It’s only sweet if you don’t look too close. Bad things happen here all the time,” Ross said, his thoughts flying out of his mouth before he thought better of them.

He glanced down at Clem, hoping he hadn’t scared her.

But Clementine just nodded sagely, proving she was made of tougher stuff than most little kids. “That’s why Grandpa and I got hit by a drunk driver. Not everyone around here is sweet. And that’s the truth.”

“Oh, bug.” Tulsi stroked her daughter’s hair and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re right. I wish you hadn’t learned that lesson so soon, but…you’re right.”

“So how long do we have to wait for Adolf before we meet everyone else for breakfast?” Ross asked, squinting up at the butte where a golden glow signaled the sun’s imminent appearance. “My stomach is about ready for something more than coffee.”

“As long as it takes.” Clementine focused her attention on the entrance to Adolf’s burrow. “You can’t rush armadillos.”

“Fifteen more minutes,” Tulsi whispered. “Then we’re out of here. I need bacon and from what I read online, armadillos are nocturnal. It seems like the chamber of commerce would have kept that in mind when they decided to substitute an armadillo for a groundhog.”

“But they’re active around sunrise, too,” Clementine said. “Y’all just need to be patient and quit having such a bad attitude.”

“I don’t have a bad attitude,” Ross said. “I have realistic expectations of armadillos.”

Clementine’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I have no expectations. They’re animals, and they’re going to do as they please, no matter what the chamber of commerce or the armadillo whisperers have to say about it.”

Clementine propped her hands on her hips, shooting him a glare that would have been scary on a larger, less adorable person.

“Clementine Rae, you stop that. I swear, if looks could kill…” Tulsi took Clem by the shoulders and shifted her daughter to her other side. “I’m sorry, Ross. We didn’t get much sleep last night. By the time we got back from Reece’s engagement party, it was after midnight and you-know-who gets cranky when she hasn’t slept well.”

“I heard that,” Clementine grumbled from her mother’s side. “I’m not cranky; I’m hopeful. There’s nothing wrong with being hopeful.”

“Of course not,” Ross said, wanting to make amends. He didn’t get to see Clem as much since she and Tulsi had moved to Montana and he didn’t want her to go home angry. “I should have kept my mouth shut. Who knows, maybe there will be a miracle.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a high pitched humming noise filled the air, coming from the dusty road leading back to town. Ross turned toward the sound, watching a solitary figure on a scooter buzz toward the Armadillo Day gathering as the first sliver of sun peeked over the butte. The golden rays glinted off the rider’s magenta helmet and the long, golden braids swinging behind her in the breeze.

Even from a quarter mile away, Ross could tell this woman wasn’t from around here—no one in Lonesome Point rode a baby blue Vespa or wore helmets that looked like they could double as psychedelic bowling balls. The rider’s tourist status was confirmed long before she pulled to a stop in the makeshift parking lot beside the road and swung a leg over her bike, but there was still something about her that was strangely familiar.

Familiar, and so compelling Ross couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from her slim form. Instead, he watched as the woman in the hot pink sweater and blue jean overalls hurried toward the group gathered beside the armadillo’s burrow with a burgeoning feeling of excitement. It felt like something big was about to happen, something he’d been hoping for for a long time, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was until the woman came to a stop beside Clementine, whipped off her helmet, and asked in a breathless whisper—

“Did I miss it?” Her hand danced through the air as she gestured toward the burrow. “Am I too late?”

Her princess face had filled out since they were kids, but the big blue eyes and long blond braids were exactly the same. So was the way that looking at Elodie Prince made him feel—happy, excited, and certain something magical was about to happen.

“Elodie?” Ross grinned so hard his cheeks started to hurt. “What are you doing here?”

She looked up, and after a beat, her eyes softened with recognition. “Ross.” She laughed. “You grew up!”

“So did you. But you still look the same, braids and all,” he said, fighting to get control of his goofy grin as he remembered he had an audience. “You remember Tulsi from back in school.”

“I do!” Elodie clasped the hand Tulsi offered and gave it a firm shake, proving she wasn’t the shy girl she used to be. “So good to see you, Tulsi.”

“You too,” Tulsi said with a smile.

Elodie’s gaze shifted to Clementine. “And I assume this brilliant child is your daughter?”

“How did you know that I’m brilliant?” Clementine asked, wonder in her tone, summoning a laugh from her mama.

“It’s in the eyes,” Elodie said with a wink as she set her helmet on the ground by her feet. “They’ve got a brilliant kind of sparkle.”

“Yours, too.” Clem grinned, obviously approving of the newcomer. “And don’t worry, you’re not too late. Adolf’s coming out any second. I can feel it.”

“Oh, good!” Elodie pulled off her leather gloves and stuffed them in one pocket of her overalls before pulling a notepad and pen from another. “I promised my friend Remi I’d cover the Armadillo Day story for her while she’s down with the flu. I’m glad I haven’t missed any of the action.”

“Remi Wheeler?” Tulsi asked.

“Yeah, we met in drawing class when we were in grad school,” Elodie said. “I’m renting her spare room while I get my parents’ old place fixed up.”

“You’re moving back?” Suddenly Ross felt like someone had taken a deep breath and blown away all the rain clouds that had been hovering over his head for the past few days. It was silly—he didn’t even know Elodie anymore—but he couldn’t deny he was happy to have her back in Lonesome Point.

“Already moved. Been here almost a week.” Elodie smiled up at him and his heart did a spinner dolphin flip in his chest.

Stupid heart. He wasn’t twelve years old anymore, but apparently it didn’t matter. He was still as much of a sucker for Elodie’s crooked grin as he’d been when they were kids. But thankfully, for once his nearly non-existent brain-to-mouth filter stepped in and stopped him from saying something embarrassing like, “That’s the best news I’ve heard all year.”

Or, “I always hoped you’d come back, Elodie.”

Or, worst of all, “Would you have dinner with me tonight?”

Instead, he nodded and mumbled, “That’s great,” before taking a sip of his coffee and shifting his gaze back to Adolf’s burrow.

Elodie had grown into a beautiful, confident woman. She might not even be single, and even if she were, he’d have to be in top pretending-to-be-normal form to have a chance in hell with a girl like her. He’d learned a long time ago that “just be yourself” was advice for people who fit the mold better than he did. For people who knew when to keep their mouths shut and their sometimes odd opinions to themselves. For people who understood there might be challenges in going straight from working for the highway department collecting dead animals to opening a restaurant with their meager savings. People who would have anticipated the “Roadkill Café” jokes that would be bantered about town and known how to banish mean gossip with a wink and a smile.