In the Mood for Love (12 page)

“Rudy was mad because she spends so much time babysitting,” Ben said. “She’s going to quit, but you don’t have to find someone new. I can take care of Mina.”

Mina nodded. “And I’ll make sure Ben does his homework. We don’t want you to be a lonely old man, Daddy.”

Oh, hell, no
. What else had Bridgett said? “Mina, honey, I’m not—”

“We were talking. Mina and me,” Ben interrupted, “and we decided we’re too old for sitters.”

“You don’t have to trust someone to take care of us,” Mina said. “We can take care of ourselves.” She poured more syrup over her already soggy pancakes. “Now you can marry any ol’ person.”

“We vote for Harper,” Ben said.

Talk about being blindsided. Sam sipped sludge, giving his stunned brain a fortifying jolt.
Of all the women in Sugar Creek
. “Why Harper?”

Mina beamed. “She likes purple.”

“She’s kind of cool.”

“She makes good cupcakes.”

“We could live in that rad house.”

“She knows Cinderella.”

Sam assumed his daughter was referring to an actress. One of Harper’s clients or a celebrity acquaintance. He eyed his son who still looked uncharacteristically driven. “Anything else?”

Ben’s shy gaze skipped to Sam and then back to his pancakes. “She’s lonely, too.”

*   *   *

The oven timer dinged in tandem with Harper’s phone. She glanced back and forth from the vintage chrome and porcelain stove to her ultramodern android then decided to multitask. She snatched her phone from the counter while opening the oven door, poking a toothpick in one of the aromatic cupcakes—
done!
—then glancing at the text.
What?

MINA WANTS THE BUTTERFLY ROOM
.

Sam’s text shocked Harper to her sneakered toes. She assumed two things. He’d told the kids about their impending marriage and he’d decided they’d move in here at the farm. Rocky had decorated the third bedroom with a butterfly theme. Mina was claiming that whimsical room as her own.

“Holy…”

Heart thudding, Harper donned oven mitts then transferred two muffin pans from the heated oven to a cooling rack on the counter. Although she’d spent last night and this morning readjusting her mind-set and rethinking her career plan, Sam was in full action mode. Researching legalities, prebooking a Vegas marriage license, breaking the news to his kids, deciding where they would live. Alleviating stress and handling complications with speed and apparent ease. Harper felt grateful and resentful at the same time. Taking control and solving problems was her drug of choice. An addiction that kept her soaring above the dark waters of her past. An addiction that enabled her to disconnect from her true self, a person who preferred rose-colored glasses to battle gear. A woman who’d unwittingly contributed to two deaths and multiple heartbreaks because she’d given in, given up, and given over.

No one was going to die if she botched this marriage, but hearts were definitely at stake, especially where Ben and Mina were concerned.

Harper was so flustered that she texted while wearing the mitts which resulted in gibberish that garnered a Daisy-like response from Sam.

????

Blood roaring in her ears, Harper connected verbally. “You told the kids?”

“They told me.”

“What does
that
mean?”

“They don’t want me to be a ‘lonely old man.’ Declared themselves self-sufficient then gave me permission to marry ‘any ol’ person,’ although they voted for you.”

Harper palmed her forehead. “Why me?”

“You know superheroes and Cinderella.”

“Oh. Well, I do. Sort of.”

“Hard to deny them when they plied me with pancakes,” Sam went on, sounding amused. “But I did slow their horses.”

“Meaning?”

“I fessed up to thinking you’re
cool,
too, and said you were definitely a contender.”

Harper rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“Just planting more seeds so the actual marriage doesn’t come out of the blue.”

She flashed on their lunch at the Shack. The way Sam had cozied up. The things Luke had overheard. Surely Luke had said something to Rae, who probably said something to Rocky or Chloe. That particular seed was no doubt growing like a weed. Now the kids would say something to a cousin or an aunt or an uncle or a friend. Within twenty-four hours everyone in Sugar Creek would be whispering about the town’s most unlikely couple. “I guess that makes sense.” Harper smiled a little, knowing she’d been preapproved by Sam’s kids. They thought she was
cool
?

“Are we still on for this afternoon?”

Sam had promised a lesson in self-defense. Though she knew his intentions were good, once again it put him in the position of authority. She hated feeling ineffectual and clueless. Maybe she’d search YouTube for an instructional video and bone up on some self-defense tips before Sam arrived.

“Harper?”

“What? I mean, yes. Sorry. Distracted.” She tested the cupcakes for coolness. “Are you bringing Ben and Mina?”

“Just dropped them at their grandparents for the weekend.”

“That’s right. You told me. Right. Great. So you’re free for the night.” Frustrated, Harper jumped on an opportunity to take charge. “Bring a bag. You’re staying over.”

“You’re inviting me to spend the night? All night?”

“We might as well get our feet wet.”

“No sex.”

“Right. Whatever. We’ll”—
ugh
—“talk. I have a say in this relationship, too, you know.”

“Of course you do. I’ll sleep in a guest room.”

“Are we going to sleep together once we’re married?”

“Yes.”

One word loaded with a world of innuendo. Harper fought his machismo charisma for all she was worth. “Then we’ll sleep together tonight,” she said, vying for control.

“Think you can lie next to me and keep your hands to yourself?”

His teasing tone stroked her libido and chafed her nerves all at once. A confounding sensation. “Get over yourself, Rambo.”

He didn’t answer, but she sensed his smile, damn him.

“I have to go,” she said. “Daisy’s on her way over. She wants to talk to me about future engagements for the Cupcake Lovers.”
And I want to pick her brain about your family
.

“About that,” Sam said, “I’m thinking about resigning.”

“From the Cupcake Lovers? That’s crazy. Forget it. They need you. I need you.”

“Yeah?”

“Professionally.”

“Mmm.”

His suggestive tone knotted her already nervous stomach.

“What are you wearing?”

“Seriously? Real sex is out but phone sex is in?”

“Get over yourself, Harper. I just want to make sure you’re dressed in something conducive to your first lesson in self-defense.”

She fell back on snark to combat a case of butterflies. “Should I dig out an umbrella?”

“Not today,” he drawled, making her weak in the knees. “Today’s hands-on.”

TWELVE

“Here’s the plan, Speedy.”

“You mean it’s changed?”

“Strategically, I’m thinking it might be better if you didn’t come inside.”

Vincent slowed the vintage Caddy to a stop, just behind Harper’s rented wheels. He shifted the column gear stick into park and sighed. “So much for being your partner in crime.”

Daisy’s conscience kicked. Especially since, unbeknownst to Vincent, she’d already acted solo. Late last night. An impromptu opportunity with Peppy. Daisy had acted on a whim, but not without strong intuition and “a sign.” Still, it had been a bold call and Daisy had thought it best to see how phase one played out, if at all, before filling Vincent in on that particular matchmaking endeavor.

Now here she was, yet again, ditching her wingman.

Chagrined, Daisy started to soothe her beau’s feelings then realized they weren’t really hurt. His mouth was pursed in a crooked grin. Sometimes it was hard to tell if he was smiling or frowning behind that big bushy beard. Sometimes, like now, it was obvious.

Vincent squinted at the renovated farmhouse then looked to Daisy. “You’re thinking this matchmaking scheme might work better if it’s just you girls.”

Daisy stifled a snort. She hadn’t thought of herself as a “girl” in a long, long time, although last year she
had
traded her fuddy-duddy Jackie O wardrobe for bohemian hippie duds. She’d grown particularly fond of gypsy skirts and tie-dyed peasant blouses. She’d also adopted the habit of dyeing her hair various vibrant shades. Why should the kids have all the fun? In fact, early this morning she’d tinted her springy curls electric blue in honor of the forthcoming summer’s blue skies. Between her free-spirited fashion sense and her determination to live life to the fullest, she supposed she
was
sort of girlish. Or at least young at heart.

“Just give me a half hour to plant the romantic seeds,” Daisy said, “then swing back to help me fertilize the love grove.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

She smiled. “It’ll be fun.”

“Unless it’s a disaster.”

“According to Rocky who heard it from Luke, Sam invited Harper to Sunday dinner,” Daisy said. “Those dinners are for close friends and family. Rocky said Luke said those two were pretty chummy yesterday over lunch. I didn’t imagine the attraction. It’s
real.
”

“Then let nature take its course.”

“Nature, smature. According to my horoscope—”

“You don’t really believe that mumbo-hooey, do you?”

“Only when my stars are aligned.” Daisy didn’t know the ins and outs of astrology and she wasn’t what she’d call a staunch believer, but she did put stock in positive thinking and she was positive she was right about Harper and Sam. All they needed was a hearty nudge. “According to my horoscope, I should trust my instincts in matters of the heart.”

“I believe whoever concocted the hooey is referring to
your
heart,” Vincent said. “Not the hearts of friends and family.”

“If you ask Harper, a professional publicist, it’s all in the interpretation.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes, his pursed lips flattened, and Daisy sensed his good humor was suddenly taxed. “I know you like Harper,” he said. “And I know you think she runs deeper than the shallow flatlander she’s shown herself to be. But, bottom line, Petunia. That woman makes a living by twisting words and painting illusions. Are you sure she’s right for Sam and the kids?”

Even though Daisy was hopped up on horoscope, intuition, and good intentions, Vincent’s earnest concern and honest observation was hard to ignore. She thought about her family bucket list, about all the names listed, the names of people she loved or, as in the case of Peppy, cared about because that girl was loved by Vincent. Life was short and even shorter for Daisy since she was already three quarters of a century old. Not to mention she’d already lost one husband and several other assorted kin to illnesses and accidents over the years. Her son Jerome had barely escaped the clutches of the Grim Reaper during a recent battle with cancer and her daughter Kelly might as well be dead since she lived all the way out in Nevada and rarely communicated with family. Daisy just wanted everyone to be happy. And in her mind, life was all the more joyful if you had someone to share it with. Although, granted, it had to be the
right
someone.

Reassessing her plan, Daisy sniffed and nodded. “Instead of planting the seeds, I’ll dig deep and get to the point.”

Vincent raised a brow. “No stealth matchmaking?”

“Nope. Either she’s interested in Sam or she’s not. I’ll ask straight out. If she is, I’ll ask if she’d be willing to move to Sugar Creek for good because if she’s not, what’s the point, right?”

“Right.”

“But if she
is
interested and
if
she is willing—”

“You’ll fertilize the love grove.”

The gleam in Vincent’s eyes and the slight upward tilt of his mouth was as good as a thumbs-up. Smiling, Daisy hooked her patchwork handbag over her shoulder, ignoring the arthritic ache in her bones and an irritating bout of heartburn. What were a few physical maladies when you were blessed with a loving partner? Because she knew it would bring him joy, Daisy gave Vincent a cheeky salute. “I’ll be in touch, Speedy.”

“Hold up,” he said on a chuckle. “Let me get your car door.”

Daisy saw Harper open the front door of the house. She stepped onto the porch and waved at Vincent as he rounded the hood of the Caddy. He waved back then helped Daisy out. “See there,” Daisy whispered to her beau. “That was friendly of her.”

“She’s talking on her phone.”

Daisy patted his chest and smiled. “There’s something to be said for multitasking.”

“Not in my book.” But then he smiled and kissed Daisy’s forehead. “Good luck, Petunia.”

If it weren’t for her stiff hip, she would’ve kicked up her metallic sneakered heels. “Who needs luck when my stars are aligned and you’re on my side?”

*   *   *

By the time Daisy Monroe arrived at the Rothwell Farm, the gingerbread cupcakes were cooled and frosted, mimosas were made, and Harper had decided to approach the woman point-blank. No fancy wordplay or dancing around the bush. By the time Sam arrived, Harper wanted a firm grip on the dynamics of his family as well as a friend in the field. Daisy was eccentric, but she generally shot from the hip and she not only knew the dish on her own family, but on most everyone in town. A valuable ally, especially since Sugar Creek would be Harper’s new home base. As of last night, she’d decided to bail on her efforts to reach the powers that be at Spin Twin Cities in an effort to reverse their decision. She still hoped to salvage her relationships with her former clients—even if only for the sake of her pride and reputation. If they were truly parting ways, she preferred to do so on good terms and not because they felt she’d failed them or because the firm had promised to hook them up with a better publicist. The more Harper thought about
that
betrayal, the easier it was to move on.

“I didn’t realize you weren’t driving,” Harper said to the colorful senior as she scaled the front steps.