The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane. Sheila Roberts

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The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane - Sheila  Roberts


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course,” she said. What did he think she was, some sort of car snob?

      “So,” he said as he climbed behind the wheel. “I hope you like action films. That’s what’s playing at the Falls Cinema.”

      She preferred romantic comedies but said, “That’s fine.”

      “That’s fine,” he repeated as he turned the key in the ignition. “Hmm. Chick speak for, ‘It’ll have to do.’”

      “You sure know a lot about women,” she said.

      He shot her a grin. “I know a few things.” Then he added, “But no man knows everything about women. That’s why we’re all so fascinated by you. You’re a never-ending mystery.”

      Why did practically everything he said, every look he gave her, make her tingle? It was ridiculous, really, like being in middle school all over again. But the darn tingle was there, and thinking about the trouble it could cause made her nervous.

      To cover her nerves, she gave a snort. “Has anyone ever told you you’re full of it?”

      “A few people.”

      “Were they all women?” she asked sweetly.

      He didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he nodded at the radio, where some hip-hop singer was reciting lyrics to the underlying hypnotic pulse of a bass. “Feel free to find something you like.”

      “I’m surprised you’re not listening to country music,” she said, searching for a pop station.

      “I listen to that, too. I like just about everything.”

      “Well, that makes you easy to please.” The words were barely out of her mouth before she realized she’d handed him yet another opening for a double entendre.

      His smile was positively sly. “I am.”

      “I thought you said you had a serious side.”

      “I do.”

      “I’m not convinced. Tell me one thing you can be serious about.”

      “Taxes. How’s that?”

      “Impressive. That’s it?”

      “Death and taxes.”

      “How about relationships?”

      “Those are pretty serious things, too.” He pulled up in front of Zelda’s, shut off the engine and turned to her. “You think I’m just looking for a hookup, don’t you?”

      “That did cross my mind.”

      “I don’t know where this is going, but I want to find out. Don’t you?”

      “I’m not sure,” she said honestly. Did she really want to risk a third heartbreak?

      “Don’t worry. We’ll take it one kiss at a time,” he said and opened his door. She started to open hers. “Uh-uh,” he cautioned, reaching across the seat and stopping her. “My mama raised me to be a gentleman.”

      “What happened?” Cecily retorted, but she waited for him to walk around and open the door for her.

      “See,” he said, “I’m not a total Philistine.”

      “How do you even know what a Philistine is?”

      “Hey, I told you. My mama raised me right. I went to Sunday school.”

      Cecily rolled her eyes and slipped out of the car.

      Zelda’s was one of the most popular restaurants in Icicle Falls, specializing in Northwest cuisine. As with all the shops and restaurants in town, it boasted hanging baskets overflowing with petunias and geraniums. The glass door had the restaurant’s name scrawled across it in gold script and featured the image of a flapper.

      Inside, the place was packed with people in town for the weekend to celebrate the Maifest festival, as well as locals. At one table she caught sight of Gerhardt Geissel, who owned Gerhardt’s Gasthaus, out with his wife and another couple. The women were dressed in dirndls and the men in lederhosen, an obvious sign that they’d taken part in the late-afternoon performance by their folk-dancing troupe in the town square. Pat Wilder and Ed York occupied another table. It was only a matter of time before those two made their relationship official, and Cecily had a feeling that by Christmas Pat would be sporting a diamond on her left hand. And there, by the window... Her heart rate picked up, and she looked away quickly, trying to pretend she hadn’t seen Luke Goodman with his mother and his daughter.

      There was no need to feel self-conscious. She’d made it clear to both Luke and herself that she wanted to be only friends.

      Still, whenever she ran into him, at the office or anywhere else, she was aware of something between them. She knew it was attraction on his part. What was it for her? Luke didn’t hit her zing-o-meter the way Todd did. But she still felt a pull, and that was what bothered her because it wasn’t strong enough to encourage him.

      It wouldn’t be fair. Not when Todd had the effect on her that he had. What she felt for Luke was like the pull of the tide. What she felt when she was with Todd was more like a tidal wave. And she wanted that. She wanted romance with a capital R. She wanted to be crazy in love with a man who was crazy in love with her.

      But she also wanted someone she could trust. Could she trust Todd Black?

      The smile he was giving her as they waited for their table certainly looked genuine.

      Still, looks could be deceiving. She’d learned that the hard way, and she had two diamond rings to prove it.

      Reg, Fiancé Number One, had pursued her with everything from flowers to wine-country jaunts, but six months into their engagement she’d learned that his old girlfriend had come back on the scene. It would have been nice if he’d shared that information with her instead of seeing the other woman on the side. She’d set Reg free to continue stoking the fires with his old flame and dedicated herself to her business.

      Then along came Fiancé Number Two, a charming insurance salesman who liked to salsa dance and was an amazingly good listener. This time she was sure she’d made a wise choice. But her insurance salesman, who’d seemed so stable on the outside, turned out to be as stable as a three-legged chair. Marcus had money problems. He was constantly borrowing from Cecily, promising that he’d pay her back and then conveniently forgetting the entire conversation. Marcus finally declared bankruptcy and left for greener pastures, where he found a rich cougar who wanted to buy more than a whole-life policy.

      Her matchmaking business hadn’t done much for her faith in men, either. It sure would have been refreshing (no, make that a shock) to meet just one man who didn’t have specific requests regarding his dream woman’s appearance. One man who, instead of asking her to introduce him to a woman with boobs the size of watermelons or a nice, tight ass, had said, “Find me my soul mate.”

      No wonder that when she returned to Icicle Falls she’d had it with men, lost her confidence in Cupid. But with her sister Samantha a living testimonial for happily-ever-after and Todd Black chipping away at her defenses, here she was, caving and giving the brat with the bow and arrow one last chance. And hoping her famous matchmaking instincts finally kicked in on her own behalf.

      Charlene Masters (Charley to her friends), who owned Zelda’s, was at her regular post at the reservation podium, greeting her customers. She was another ambassador for true love. After divorcing her cheating husband, who’d then returned, just to bring her more misery, she’d met her Mr. Perfect and was now enjoying newlywed bliss. It could be done.

      The question for Cecily was who to do it with. If only she could put Todd Black and Luke Goodman in some giant machine and meld them into one. Todd’s sexiness coupled with Luke’s dependability—now that would be her perfect man.

      You don’t know that Todd’s undependable, she reminded herself. Heck, he owned a business and a house. That required a certain level of dependability. But there was no getting around those


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