Thrill Me
Page 6

 Susan Mallery

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Fool’s Gold had grown in the ten years she’d been away. Giving walking tours of the city as a part-time job in high school meant she was familiar with the history and layout. She had a feeling the schedule of festivals she’d once memorized still existed in her brain. Probably stored next to all the words to Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.”
The thought made her smile and, humming the song, she walked into Brew-haha.
The coffee place had been decorated simply, with bright colors and lots of places to sit. There was a long counter up front, a display of tempting, high-calorie pastries and a tall, broad-shouldered man at the front of a six-person line.
Maya froze, half in, half out of the store. Now what? She was going to have to face Del at some point. Thanks to Mayor Marsha, they would be working together. But she hadn’t thought she would have to deal with him precoffee.
The downside to an otherwise perfectly lovely town, she thought, sucking up her doubts and joining the line.
As Del finished placing his order, whatever he’d said had the cashier laughing. He moved over to wait for his order and immediately started talking to the barista.
Had he always been so friendly? Maya wondered, watching him, while trying to appear as if she wasn’t paying attention at all. A trick that had her still slightly sleepy self struggling to keep up.
The line moved forward. Several other customers stopped to talk to Del, greeting him and then pausing to chat. No doubt catching up, she thought. Del had grown up here. He would know a lot of people.
A few words of the conversations drifted to her. She caught bits about his skysurfing and the business he’d sold. Because when Del had left town, he’d not only gotten involved in a new and highly risky sport, he’d designed a board, founded a company and then sold it for a lot of money. Which was impressive. And the tiniest bit annoying.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to have done great. But maybe he didn’t have to be so good-looking at the same time as being so successful. Was a disfiguring scar too much to ask for? Something to level the playing field?
But no. With his three days’ worth of beard and easy smile, he was still movie-star handsome. She would know. She’d seen plenty of him on video and he was impressive. The camera loved him and that meant the audience did, too.
She reached the front of the line and placed her order for the largest latte they had. She thought about ordering an extra shot of espresso, then acknowledged she would be most likely returning later. Better to spread out the caffeine.
She stepped to the side to wait for her drink. Del was still talking with a couple of people. She expected him to finish his conversation and leave. Instead, he headed for her.
“Morning,” she said as he approached. Her lingering sleepiness faded as odd tingles began in her toes and raced up to the top of her head. Horror replaced trepidation.
No, no, no! There couldn’t be tingles or awareness or any of that. Uh-uh. No way. Not her. She refused to be attracted to Delany Mitchell. Not after ten years and thousands of miles. The miles being metaphorical for her and literal for him. They were done. They’d moved on. Okay, technically she’d dumped him in a cruel and immature way, but regardless of her failings, it was so over as to be a relationship fossil.
Exhaustion, she told herself desperately. The tingles were the result of exhaustion. And maybe hunger. She would probably faint next and then everything would be fine.
“Morning,” he said as he stopped in front of her. “You ratted me out to my mother.”
The words were so at odds with what she’d been thinking that she had trouble understanding their meaning. When the mental smoke cleared, she was able to breathe again.
“You mean I told her you were in town?”
“Yeah. You could have given me fifteen minutes to get in touch with her.”
She smiled. “You never said it was a secret. I stopped by to see a friend and told her you were back. She was surprised.”
“That’s one way to put it. She gave me an earful.”
The barista handed Maya her latte. Maya took it and started for the door. “If you’re expecting me to feel guilty about that, it’s so not happening. How could you not bother telling your mother you were coming home? I’m not the bad guy here.”
Del fell into step with her. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?”
He held open the door of Brew-haha. When they got to the sidewalk, he pointed to the left and she walked along with him. Because, well—why not?
“You’re saying I should have let her know I was home for the rest of the summer?”
“Speaking as your mom’s friend, yes, you should have told her you were coming. Or that you’d arrived. And if you didn’t want me to tell her, you should have said something. If she scolded you, it’s your own fault. I accept absolutely no guilt or blame on the topic.”
He surprised her by laughing. “You always did have attitude.”
Back then it had been bravado. She liked to think she now had a little experience or even substance to back it up.
They reached the lake. Del turned toward the path that led to the rental cabins on the far side. Maya went with him. The day was sunny and promised to be plenty warm. August was often the hottest part of summer in Fool’s Gold. Up in the mountains fall came early, but not in the town itself.
Along the shores of Lake Ciara, just south of the Golden Bear Inn, was a cluster of summer cabins. They ranged from small studios to large three-bedroom structures. Each cabin had a big porch with plenty of room for sitting out and watching the lake. There was a play area for the kids, a communal fire pit and easy walking access to Fool’s Gold.