Have Baby, Need Beau. Rita Herron
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Grammy Rose
Mimi blinked back tears, her heart contracting. She’d always been the misfit child, the one who got in trouble. Hannah had been the responsible, studious one, the one everyone admired.
“What’s wrong?” Seth asked.
Perceptive shrink, wasn’t he? “Nothing,” Mimi said, unable to voice how much the letter meant to her.
“Then why are you crying?”
“I’m not.”
Seth shook his head as if irritated. “Why do women always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Get angry or upset, then claim nothing’s wrong when a guy expresses concern.”
“Maybe because it’s none of your business.”
Seth’s mouth tightened. “Sorry. I was only trying to be nice.”
“Or trying to analyze me, sneaky shrink-style.”
He shot her a dark look. “I’m not a sneaky anything. Why are you so paranoid about psychiatrists, anyway?”
“There you go analyzing again. Must be a habit.”
“I’m not analyzing you, Mimi. Like I said, I was only trying to be your friend.”
Mimi shrugged. “Sorry. I guess I took it the wrong way. Must be that whole Mars-Venus thing.”
“I guess.” A small smile tugged at Seth’s mouth. “There’s a hotel over there. I’m going to stop.”
“I’ll wait in the car.” Mimi gestured toward her bridesmaid’s dress.
“Right. It might look a little odd.”
Several cars filled the lot as Mimi toyed with the letter, rereading the heartfelt words while she waited.
Seth returned with a scowl on his face. “No rooms.”
Mimi patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Seth, we’ll find something.”
His blue eyes flickered with doubt, but Mimi believed in the value of optimism. He continued down the winding mountain. She searched for a music station on the radio, but every station focused on the weather, only adding to the mounting tension.
Thirty minutes later, Mimi’s optimism had faded along with the visibility and any hope the blizzard would let up. Seth had tried a small motor lodge, a bed-and-breakfast and one place with a purple door and orange lights that Mimi had negated on sight—it looked a little seedy and was in a bad section of town. Finally they veered toward the apple houses near Ellijay. Seth clenched his jaw so tight she expected to hear bone grinding any minute. A few miles later, Mimi spotted a large well-known hotel, the Magnolia Manor.
“There have to be rooms here,” she said, pointing to the long drive.
“Let’s hope. I’m low on gas now and the highway’s closed.” Seth steered the car up the drive at a turtle’s pace and parked in front of the sprawling hotel. He returned minutes later with a tight expression on his face.
“Don’t tell me this big place doesn’t have any rooms.”
He held up his index finger. “No, they have one.”
“That’s great.”
“Just one.”
“What?”
“Just one room, as in a single one.”
Mimi’s stomach sank as Seth’s meaning hit her. They would have to share.
SETH KNEW HE SHOULD offer to sleep in the car and let Mimi have the room to herself, but the idea of spending the night in the frigid temperatures was not appealing.
Mimi’s face registered surprise, then indecision, and for a moment, worry. “Look, Mimi, I can sleep on the floor if you want. You know Hannah and I were… What I’m trying to say here is…er—”
“I know you’re safe,” Mimi said matter-of-factly. “Believe me, Seth, I’m not worried.”
Seth bristled, wondering why she thought he was safe.
“I hope the bar’s open. Maybe we can get a drink and relax. You must be stiff from driving.”
“Um, yeah. I saw a bar in the lobby.” His shoulders were aching from the tense maneuvers down the mountain. And Mimi’s perfume had made him slightly dizzy. And stiff.
“I hope there’s a gift shop, too. I need a toothbrush and something to sleep in. I have to get out of this silly bridesmaid dress.”
Seth stifled the images her comment brought to mind. Helping Mimi out of the dress and her sleeping in his arms…ridiculous. He didn’t even like her. Did he?
“Let’s do it,” Mimi said.
He nearly jumped out of his shoes. “Do it?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” She hiked up her dress, revealing those beautiful legs of hers, and yanked at the neck of the dress, which had slipped lower as the evening had worn on.
He jerked his brain back to reality. She meant for them to take the room, not do it. Obviously Mimi didn’t find him attractive, another stomp on his wounded ego.
She preferred rough types like that jailbird ex-boyfriend of hers, guys with tattoos who probably drove motorcycles and had ungodly piercing of assorted body parts—the exact opposite of him.
Which was perfect. He didn’t want Mimi to be attracted to him. Even if she was the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. She wanted to be a belly dancer, for God’s sake. And he was a respected psychiatrist. She probably needed to lie on his couch and let him analyze her erratic behavior.
Not lie on his couch and have him analyze her in the physical sense.
He locked the car and followed her, grateful to see the open bar and determined to steer his thoughts back on track. He’d simply reacted to Mimi’s comment. First Hannah had dumped him, then her sister had insulted his male prowess. And Mimi’s exotic perfume, which had driven him crazy for the past half hour, probably had some chemical in it that had affected his brain cells. It was a wonder the pheromones hadn’t asphyxiated him.
Reminding himself he’d felt sorry for Mimi earlier, that he’d planned to offer her a shoulder to lean on if she was still upset over her boyfriend’s deception, he straightened his tie and followed her. Yep, he’d put on his counseling hat and consider the evening with her as a job.
So they’d share a room later as friends—no, acquaintances—it was no big deal. No one but the two of them would ever know they’d been stranded together. And it was for only one night.
What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Three
Mimi studied the frown on Seth’s face as they settled on stools in the crowded bar. Was he pining for Hannah? Thinking about their lost wedding night? Wishing he was in the honeymoon suite with Hannah, instead of here with her?
Stupid question. Of course he did.
“What would you like?” Seth asked.
“Huh?”
“To drink?”
Mimi noticed the bartender watching her, one elbow propped on the gleaming countertop. Soft music flowed from the speakers, an Eric Clapton tune filling the room. Suddenly self-conscious in the wrinkled dress, Mimi yanked the bodice up a notch. Unfortunately the movement drew attention to the drooping neckline, instead of diverting it.
Seth sent the bartender a dark scowl. Mimi considered ordering a fancy drink, something sophisticated, but she refused to put on airs for Seth Broadhurst or any man. “Give me a light beer. Whatever you have on draft is fine.”
The