The Meltdown Match (A Romance Novella) (5 page)

Courtney paused, wondering what was going through Mitch’s mind. Did he think she was crazy, or did he understand?

He picked up a rock and chucked it over the ledge the way you’d throw a rock to skip it across a lake. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You come here to be inspired, but when that so-called well of inspiration runs dry, you feel the need to move away so it can be full and running over by the time you come back.” Surprisingly enough, his words didn’t sound mocking.

She nodded. “I know it sounds crazy, but writing is now my career, and I can’t afford for Heimel to stop inspiring me.”

Mitch shifted positions, turning around so he could face her head on. He raised his knee and rested one elbow on it as he studied her. “Have you ever considered that maybe your earlier books weren’t accepted because you weren’t ready? That it wasn’t the right story, or you didn’t have enough experience yet?”

“Of course,” Courtney said. “And I know that has a lot to do with it. But it still doesn’t change the fact that I really do feel inspired when I come home—and it’s a feeling that doesn’t last. Sometimes I sort of feel cursed—like how Davy Jones can only step foot on land once every ten years. Only at least I get a few months out of every year. ”

Almost absentmindedly, Mitch began tracing the perimeter of her fingers, up and over each one. Tingles ran up her arm, making Courtney feel like she’d be catapulted back to her beautiful dream from that morning. She clamped her mouth shut and held still, too afraid that if she moved or said the wrong thing, he’d stop.

His fingers finally closed around her hand, and his gaze met hers. “You could always try to stay this time, just to see. You never know, maybe the change of seasons would give you the same renewed feeling.” His eyes had taken on an uncharacteristic vulnerability, as if he really did want her to stay, that part of his happiness might even depend on it.

Her heart beat faster as she stared back. What was happening? Was she experiencing the magic of the sun right now? Mitch had never done more than flirt with her, tease her, invite her on group outings or give her giant bear hugs when she returned.

But here—now—with the rays of that beautiful sun streaming down on them, Mitch leaned closer. His hand moved from her fingers to her face, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her hair and sending chills down her spine. Courtney’s heart pounded. She willed him to lean closer still, to brush his lips against hers. Her eyes drifted shut, and she felt herself tilting forward as if compelled to do so.

Kiss me
.

His hand moved to the back of her neck, but his warm lips didn’t cover hers. Instead, they landed on her forehead, giving her a lingering kiss before drawing away. Cool air rushed between them, reminding her of that morning, when her wonderful dream had been rudely interrupted.

Her eyes flickered open to see uncertainty in his expression, possibly even regret. Her face flushed as heavy disappointment settled in her stomach. A forehead kiss was something you’d give a sister, a child in need of comfort, or the girl who’d never be more than a friend.

Courtney knew all about forehead kisses—she’d written plenty of them into her books.

Salmon juices sizzled on the grill as Mitch watched Courtney from the corner of his eye. Ever since the stupid forehead kiss, things had been awkward between them. He didn’t like it. Why hadn’t he just given her a real kiss instead of chickening out? At least then he would have known from her response whether she’d wanted it or not. Now he was stuck wondering if she had been disappointed or grateful.

He’d tried to dispel the awkwardness by taking her to the fairgrounds for some flea market browsing, but it had only made things worse. As the couple who’d won The Meltdown Match, one too many knowing smiles came their way, so he’d finally brought her back to his place for dinner. Now she sat on the railing surrounding his back patio, dangling her feet while taking in the views and saying nothing.

Mitch bit his lip, mentally kicking himself yet again for being such a wuss.

Courtney twisted around, swung her legs up and over the railing, and hopped down from her perch. She approached him with slow, hesitant steps, her hands shoved in the back pockets of her skinny jeans. “Are you sure you don’t need any help? I feel lame sitting here while you do all the work.”

Mitch’s arms itched to pull her to him and kiss her long and hard. Maybe then this nervous tension would go away and leave them alone. Maybe then he’d know if she was as crazy about him as he was about her.

He scooped the salmon from the grill, turned the heat off, and lifted the plate. “Everything’s ready,” he said, setting the plate on the table. He went inside and retrieved a salad from the fridge and twice-baked potatoes from the oven.

When he emerged from the house, Courtney eyed the table. “Wow, this looks amazing. When did you learn to cook so well?”

“You haven’t tasted it yet.”

“If it tastes as good as it smells, it’s going to be fantastic.”

Mitch pulled out a chair for her then sat down, racking his mind for something to say— preferably something funny that would make her laugh. When he came up empty, he focused on his food and rebuked himself yet again for botching things so badly earlier. Of all the dates to go wrong, this was the worst. It was too important—
she
was too important.

“I’ve been thinking more about the fisherman with a sixth sense idea, and I’m liking it more and more,” she said.

Mitch wondered if she’d said that to be nice—something that might put an end to the awkward silence—because the fisherman idea
had
been a joke. It stunk.

He played along anyway. “Yeah?”

“It’s a good thing I don’t have my laptop or notebook with me. I’d probably start jotting down some notes.”

He had no idea what to say to that. “I have a notebook inside if you’d like.”

“No.” She waved his suggestion aside. “I was only joking.”

But was she? Mitch changed the subject, and after some painful small talk to get them through dinner, Courtney insisted on doing the dishes. “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done today,” she said, picking up his plate. “Besides, I’ve wanted to take a peek inside ever since you brought me here, and this is my chance.”

Mitch followed with the glasses. “Want a tour?”

“Of course.”

Together, they made quick work of cleaning up, and once the last dish had been loaded, Mitch held out his hand, hoping she’d take it. “Ready?”

She hesitated a second, then placed her hand in his. It felt soft and small and perfect, especially when her fingers tightened around his and she returned the pressure of his grip.

He gave her hand a tug and led her down the hall. “The house has four bedrooms, two and a half baths, a den, vaulted ceilings, and a lot of stone and wood. I wanted it to have more of a chalet feel.”

Courtney peeked inside each bedroom as they passed. Although they were pretty much empty, with little to no furniture, she seemed to like what she saw. In the master bedroom, she relinquished his hand and took her time looking around. Mitch shuffled his feet as he waited, wondering what she thought. With only a bed and nightstand, there wasn’t much to see, but the stone fireplace was cool, along with the wooden beams on the vaulted ceiling.

Courtney finally faced him and cocked her head. “This room is beautiful, but it’s too empty. Take that fireplace, for example. It’s gorgeous, but where’s the loveseat to curl up on? And these hardwood floors—” Her foot tapped the boards. “Spectacular. But it could really use a rug to cozy it up. And those windows.” She gestured toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the far end of the room. “Talk about an amazing view. You need a comfy recliner right there.”

A teasing glint appeared in her eyes as she approached him, resting both hands on his chest and shaking her head in mock disappointment. “I have to say, I’m feeling a little let down. You could really use a woman’s touch in here.”

With her standing this close, touching him and smelling faintly of citrus, he had to disagree. His room had never felt
less
empty. “Are you volunteering?” he said.

“Give me some time and a decent budget, and you’ll wonder how you ever called this place home before.”

Mitch covered her hands with his and stared into her beautiful green, almost blue eyes. “I don’t know. It’s feeling pretty homey right now.”

A moment passed when they booth stood there, saying nothing. Mitch’s heart rate increased to the point where Courtney could probably feel it pounding beneath her fingers. Now was his chance to do what he should have done before, to pull her to him and find out if her heart was racing as wildly as his.

Confusion appeared in her eyes, and her hands pulled free from his, dropping back to her side. “You said there was a den?” Her voice sounded a little shaky.

Mitch resisted the impulse to curse and nodded toward the doors. “Yeah, that way.” Without taking her hand this time, he led her down the hall and to the right, toward a small alcove outside a set of dark, wooden doors. He paused with his hands on the handles, hoping against hope that she’d like what was on the other side. Then he drew in a breath and swung them wide, stepping aside.

Courtney’s eyes widened as she walked into the room and turned a slow circle around, taking in everything. Mahogany bookcases spanned one wall, floor-to-ceiling windows covered another, and a chair sat adjacent to a small fireplace opposite the windows, next to a beefy, off-centered desk that angled toward the windows.

Mitch had taken his time with this room.

“Okay, I was so wrong,” Courtney breathed. “You don’t need a woman’s touch, not if you could come up with something like this.” She walked to the bookcase and ran her fingers along the spines of several of the books. “This is seriously the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen.”

Her fingers stilled over a spine, and she pulled out a book. She turned to face him, a look of surprise on her face. “You have my books.”

Mitch pushed away from the desk and moved toward her, taking the book from her hands. “I like them all, but this is my favorite.”

Her eyes snapped to his. “You’ve read them?”

“Every word. You’re an amazing writer.”

Courtney sucked in a quick breath and looked at her feet, but not before Mitch caught a glimpse of moisture pooling in her eyes. She half laughed, half snorted. “I can’t believe I’m crying.” She shook her head. “It’s just... Well, the fact that you’ve read them all means... a lot to me.”

Mitch replaced the book on the shelf before taking her hands in his, drawing her close. “Want to know why I finished this room first?”

She nodded, her eyes searching his.

A pit of nervous anxiety settled in Mitch’s stomach. “Because of you.”

Silence. Only the widening of her eyes indicated that she’d heard him.

He felt as though he’d just gotten off the ski lift at the top of a steep mountain with nowhere to go but down a steep run. He drew in a deep breath and pushed off. “Courtney, I’ve always been crazy about you. But when you come back to town, you’re never here long, and you’re always so busy writing that I don’t get to spend much time with you. When I designed this room, I sort of did it with you in mind, thinking that it might entice you to spend some of your writing time over here.” He paused, his fingers trembling in hers. “Every time I’m in here, it reminds me of you, and makes me feel like you’re not so far away and out of reach.”

“Really?” More tears glistened in Courtney’s eyes, but this time she didn’t blink them away. One slipped out and trailed down her cheek, followed by another.

Mitch’s thumb moved to her cheek, wiping the tear away. “Really.”

She sniffed and blinked away the tears. “Then why did you kiss me on the forehead earlier? I wanted it to be a real kiss, and when it wasn’t, I thought it meant that you didn’t care. At least not as much as I did.”

Her words worked their way into Mitch’s heart, filling and expanding it. Not wanting to waste another second or let this moment pass, he dipped his head and covered her lips with his, showing her exactly how much he did care. Her arms wound around his back and her fingers clung to his shirt as her lips moved against his with increased pressure, searching, seeking, and tasting.

A feeling of exhilaration flowed through Mitch’s body, filling him with an amazing energy. It was a kiss unlike any he’d ever known. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. Courtney belonged here, in his arms—not in New York or California or Texas, but here.

She couldn’t leave again. She couldn’t.

Courtney finally drew back, looking up with an expression filled with warmth and joy. Mitch smiled as his fingers traced along her jaw line. “If you only knew how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“If you only knew how long I’ve waited for you to do that.”

He chuckled and leaned in for one more kiss, more lightly this time, then led her out of the den and to the great room, where he closed the blinds, dimmed the lights, and started a fire in the fireplace. They spent the rest of the evening snuggling, talking, and kissing.

When the sun finally approached the horizon close to midnight, Mitch took Courtney outside to the front porch. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close as the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains, marking an end to one of the longest, and now best, days of the year.