Love Rising: Spring (Mandrake Falls Series Romance Book 4) (8 page)

“I never said she should but—”

“But what?”
Norm interjected.
“Jocelyn should accept whatever scraps are tossed her way because she’s stuck
in Mandrake Falls and her father lives next to the town dump? Is that what you
think, you middle-class shit?”

“Daddy, please,” Jocelyn whispered. “Keep your voice down. Nothing’s
happened.”

Norm’s face purpled. “Don’t you dare lie to my
face.
Did he put you up to this?” He tugged on his daughter’s
arm, helpless with rage and deeply embarrassed by the gathering of spectators.
His conscience pricked. He had a vague idea of being in the wrong, and yet he
couldn’t see how when it was he who had been deceived here.

The fact was Norm Tate was unwilling to let anyone love his
daughter. Jocelyn didn’t know the boys who wanted to date her were losers and
it was his job to see that she did know. He was a bully, but he was also a
buffoon, which made his outbursts worse for Jocelyn to endure.

His daughter’s red face and downcast eyes filled Norm with inarticulate
fury. Was she embarrassed by
him
?
Norm began to think he was making a fool of himself when he was only doing what
was right by her. He was the girl’s father—he had a
right
, damn it!

“Dad,” Jocelyn whispered in a high voice. “Dad, please. Take
it easy—”

“Get in the truck. You’re coming with me.”

“Dad, no.
I’m a grown woman. I don’t
have to do what you say anymore. I’m going back to my place with Jeremy. He’s
helping me with—”

Norm boxed her ears. A quick cuff against the side of her
head that wasn’t painful so much as it was humiliating.

Jocelyn’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

Both Norm and Jocelyn felt the eyes of the whole town on
them. Lydia and Walter Rutherford,
Letitia
Murdoch
and Sheriff McIntyre were in the crowd. Everyone was staring at them like they
were a sideshow. The sheriff took a step forward but was halted by the look on
Jocelyn’s face.
Please don’t interfere
.

For Jocelyn, the worst of all was the pitying look in Jeremy’s
eyes. She wasn’t a goddess anymore. Real goddesses didn’t get cuffed in the
street by their fathers. Her dad felt worse than she did. Norm’s face was
etched with shame and misery. Hitting his kid in public like common trailer
trash—Norm Tate had fought against becoming that man since Jocelyn was old
enough to walk. They were poor but they weren’t going to live like everyone
else they knew. No brawling or drunken rages or shitty yards filled with scrap
metal or poor grades or pay day loans—Norman Tate had standards. Poverty was no
excuse for being stupid. His daughter was going to make something of her life
and show them all it could be done.

The only trouble was Jocelyn Tate had no skills, confidence
or aptitude. She wasn’t smart like Andrea
Tarnham
or
disciplined like Paula Dunlop to finish hairdressing school, or skilled like
Jeremy Marks who could fix anything. She was pretty. And she liked growing
things in her back yard. She was good at growing herbs and organic vegetables,
but who was going to pay her to grow plants in Vermont where everyone had a
green thumb? Jocelyn had big dreams just like her father but no means to pull
them off. Marrying wealth was the only option for her.

Father and daughter struggled with this reality in the
middle of Mandrake Falls under the curious gaze of most of the town. Their
shared humiliation had one source: they were poor and her father wasn’t going
to let her forget it for one moment.

“Mr. Tate,” Jeremy said in a low voice, controlling his
rage, “you have to back off.”

“Or what?”
Norm sneered uneasily.
Getting into a street brawl with the boy would be the final nail in the coffin.
If he laid a hand on him, he’d lose Jocelyn forever if he hadn’t already. From
the look on her face, Norm knew he was close.

Jocelyn touched her father’s arm. “Dad, please go on home. I’m
all right. I’ll call you later.”

Norm was privately relieved she was still speaking to him
and grateful she still called him Dad. Humbled, Norm could only nod mutely and
shuffle away, defeat in his rounded shoulders.

Jeremy opened the car door and Jocelyn climbed inside. As he
closed it, he glanced up at the onlookers. “If you’re standing around staring
because you want to help, then go after Mr. Tate. I’m sure he could use a
friend right now. Otherwise, get out of our sight.”

Jocelyn heard him. She heard every word. She slumped in the
passenger seat of the beat-up Toyota, shaking with gratitude and embarrassment.
She didn’t care that he drove a piece-of-shit car or that he wore horrible
sweaters that came from a thrift store or that he had a crappy job and lived
over a theater. Jeremy Marks was the nicest guy she’d ever met.

That had to count for something. In terms of personal
happiness, being with a man who had integrity had to mean more than being with
a man who had a great bank account. Jocelyn knew that deep down her father
would agree.

JEREMY FOLLOWED Jocelyn into her house and closed the door
behind him. The smell of musty wood, humidity and plants choked the air.
Jocelyn dropped her keys in a bowl on the side table and drifted into the
living room like she didn’t really belong there. Her face on the ride home was
white and immobile, and she didn’t speak. Jeremy had come inside to finish the
repair on the sink knowing she wanted him there, but a terrible pall had fallen
over them both. Her mortification and his helplessness in the situation had
struck them dumb.

They set to work on fixing the sink efficiently and
formally; normal conversation constricted by what had happened. Jeremy couldn’t
get past the exposure Norm had subjected Jocelyn to—her life story played out
on Main Street. A life she’d obviously kept to
herself
.
Jeremy realized how little he knew about Jocelyn Tate.

“You never talk about your mom,” he said suddenly, breaking
the silence.

Her beauty was like a mask. It was terrible how beauty could
be like a veil on a girl, Jeremy thought. She could disappear behind it and
people wouldn’t know she wasn’t really there. People were content to stare at a
beautiful as if they were looking at an image in a glossy magazine. It was easy
to forget the girl behind the face. Had he been guilty of the same thing—of
forgetting Jocelyn was a human being? He’d never thought about it until this
moment.

Jocelyn answered his question without looking at him.
“Josephine died of cancer when I was thirteen. She was sick for a long time
before that and the hospital bills more or less wiped us out. I hope you don’t
think Norm is a bad father because of what happened. He isn’t usually like that
unless he thinks he’s being made a fool of. That gets him angry.”

“That gets all of us angry. But no one was making a fool of
him.”

“You have to see it from his point of view.”

Jeremy wisely did not contradict her. He wasn’t going to get
into a power struggle with Norman Tate for his daughter’s affections.

“Since my mom died, I’ve become his world. He feels
threatened when I meet a new guy. If it makes you feel any better he hasn’t
liked any of the guys I’ve gone out with.”

Jeremy knew without being told that Norman Tate was selfish
and stingy with his love and if he couldn’t keep his daughter one way, he’d
keep her another. Driving off the guys who liked her was one tactic. Making his
daughter feel worthless was another.

“Has he hit you before?” Jeremy asked, throwing caution to
the wind.

“No. He’s not like that—please don’t think my dad is like
that. He’s sorry. We’re all sorry.” There was a pause. “He wants me to marry
somebody with money. He’s worried I won’t get out of this place if I don’t and
he’s probably right. I’ve disappointed him. He just wants a better life for me.”

“How are you supposed to marry money living in Mandrake
Falls? No one here has money.”

“I know, right? I’ve told him! He doesn’t listen. He rejects
every decent guy because they have no money.”

Norm believed his daughter had the right to marry rich. He
had drilled this into Jocelyn every day of her life. It was he who encouraged
her to make friends with girls who were richer than she was so she was known to
a better class of people. She partied with them, skied with them, met their brothers,
their cousins, their creepy uncles—and she was lonely every minute of the time.
When Jocelyn graduated from high school and didn’t go on to the same colleges
as her friends did, the friendships dropped off.

Norman Tate was a snob, Jocelyn decided in that moment. He
was wrong to focus on the net worth of the guys she went out with instead of
their character. He was just as frightened and desperate as his neighbors who
were living paycheck to paycheck. Norm was her father and she loved him but she
couldn’t play the game anymore. She was twenty-two and tired of putting herself
on the market like a fresh vegetable.

“
Joce
,
it’s
clear what Norm wants but what do you want?”

Jocelyn sat back on her heels and didn’t answer for a long
time. Jeremy forced himself to keep working on the pipe fitting as though his
very life didn’t hang in the balance.

“I used to know,” she said, “and then this stupid engagement
notice came out. I used to know exactly what I wanted. I wanted to marry
money.”

“And now?”

The wrench was in his hand. He couldn’t move a muscle until
she answered. His upper lip was dewy with sweat.

“Now, I—I want to feel good about myself for a change. I
want to have days like this, fixing this place up, and buying seeds and talking
to the neighbors in the hardware store. Not always working an angle. I want a
normal life—whatever that means. I want to be happy.”

Jeremy exhaled and made a final twist of the wrench. He
pushed out from under the sink.

“All finished. What time is it?”

“Five o’clock. Why?”

“Quitting time.
Come on,
Joce
. I could use a drink.”

“Jeremy, we have no money. We blew the baby product money on
the plumbing stuff and the seed packets you put on your credit card. I’m not
whining, believe me. I’ll be so excited to do dishes in the sink without
flooding the place.”

She moved to her pantry cupboard and opened it. Glass jars
lined the shelves in neat colorful rows. “I’ll make us dinner. How about pasta
with basil and tomato sauce? No wine or beer though. That’s the only thing
missing.”

Jeremy’s jaw dropped open. Jocelyn Tate had the looks of a
Vogue model and the sensibility of his grandmother. She put up preserves,
preferred gardening to clubbing and thought fixing the plumbing was a good day.
If he wasn’t in love with her before, there was no turning back now. “You’re
like a hot Martha Stewart. Where did all of this come from?”

She looked pleased. “I preserve whatever is left in the
garden after making my products and I live on them all winter. My dream is to
do what Martha Stewart did, only for people without much money.” Her mouth
twisted. “Ironic, I know. But actually, I believe life can be fabulous on less.
My mom used to make something out of nothing.”

“I could see you doing that—in fact, you
are
doing that.”

“I suppose.” She shrugged but her eyes looked hopeful. “It
scares me that maybe I’ll do it so well I’ll wind up being poor for the rest of
my life.”

Jeremy set the wrench down on the counter and took charge. “Not
tonight. Tonight we splurge. We both could use a break after the day we’ve had.
I have some birthday money from my Aunt Gloria I was saving for a rainy day. We’ll
use that.”

“
Birthday
money?
What are you, nine?” Jocelyn threw him a half-grin.

“To Aunt Gloria, I am. She’ll be amazed to hear I spent the
money on an actual girl instead of on—”

“Stop!
Don’t say another word. I
don’t need to know about your sexual kinks.”

“I was going to say video
games. I told you—she thinks I’m nine. So, are you coming or what?”

Jocelyn paused in the hall, chewing her lip. “I don’t know,
Jeremy. I don’t feel up to facing people after what happened with my dad.”

He stepped toward her, wanting to put his arms around her
but instinct told him Jocelyn needed a friend more than she needed another guy
hitting on her. Not that he
would
be
hitting on her, but Jocelyn Tate didn’t trust many people. She wouldn’t take
affection very well right now. It was strange that they could be so different
and yet Jeremy knew her like he knew his own skin. If it were him, he’d want a
friend now too.

“There’s a place outside of town that’s quiet on Monday
nights. No one will know us there. You’re with me. I’m not going to let
anything bad happen.”

She ducked her head and then peered up at him. “All right,
if you say so. Am I dressed okay or should I change?”

Jeremy looked her over. Jocelyn was wearing a pale green
turtleneck sweater that appeared to be made of cobwebs, it was so fine. Her
nipples, budded with cold, protruded under the fabric. Jeremy responded like
any male would under the circumstances. His blood raced to his crotch and he
lost the ability to speak. She was wearing tight white jeans that fitted her
buttocks like a second skin. She was dazzling.

He found his voice. “You look great. But bring a jacket. It’s
cold.”

Jocelyn pulled on a worn jean jacket and followed him out,
locking the door behind her.

♥

RYAN MCINTYRE rolled on the balls of his feet and watched
the front entrance of the Beauty Box across the street. The door opened and
Darlene emerged talking while handling a thick set of keys. Paula was behind
her in the blue raincoat. She glanced over her shoulder as Darlene chatted on,
her eyes scanning the town green.

Ryan took a stealthy step to his left and was concealed
behind a thick maple tree. His new shoes were wet with mud. The spring sun was
thawing the earth faster than the water could be absorbed. The grass was a
soggy sponge of yellow-green turf.

Darlene made an enquiry of Paula that Ryan couldn’t hear.
Paula shook her head and indicated over her shoulder that she was going the
other way. Darlene nodded and with a wave, walked in the direction of her car.
Paula remained, irresolute, but turned to face the town green where she
expected to see Ryan McIntyre.

He held his breath and counted to ten. This could end right
now, right here. He would not show up, she would be angry and he would be
charmingly insincere the next time he saw her.

Paula glanced at the thin gold band on her wrist.
A girl who still wore a watch.
She was too young to be so
old.

What he had to make clear to his love-addled brain was that
Paula Dunlop was a nice girl but not for him. She’d be happier with one of the
mechanics at Hank’s Auto Body or even one of his brother’s deputies in the
Sheriff’s Office. McIntyre Construction was in the news thanks to the
innovative changes Ryan had made to the Millennium Mall development. He was
leveraging that success into more development deals which meant dinners,
meetings and social events with business clients. Plans were in the works to
build a timber frame and stone mansion on a forty acre parcel of land he’d
recently acquired. A girl like Paula Dunlop didn’t fit into that life. She would
be completely out of her depth.

Everything he’d worked for was finally happening. This thing
with Paula was a complication he couldn’t afford. Ryan wished the world was
different or he was—but this was the kinder thing in the long run.
Better for both of them.

Ryan took a breath and held it. The girl in the blue
raincoat scanned the sidewalk, the shoppers and the cars that drove by for a
sign of her date. And then Paula Dunlop lifted her shoulders and let them drop
in one swift graceful movement that cut him to the quick. She turned slowly in
the direction of her home and walked away. Ryan watched her go, feeling
lonelier than he’d ever felt in his life. He didn’t think after his mother died
he could ever feel this lonely again. The sparkle and fizz he’d felt all day
thinking about seeing her sputtered and was snuffed out.

He was an asshole. Standing her up wasn’t him being
noble—this was his ambition getting between him and real happiness.
Again.

He turned from the sight of her small slim form moving
further and further away and leaned against the tree. A sprinkle of rain fell
on his face from a cloudless sky. Even nature was annoyed with him. Maybe he could
call her later and make some excuse. Maybe he could go around to her apartment
tonight and they could talk.

Maybe a lot of things could happen. But somehow Ryan knew
nothing would.

♥

THE RESTAURANT was a steak and seafood place, one of those
holdovers from the 1950’s with red-shaded table lamps, dark wood, white linen,
and heavy on the atmosphere.

Jocelyn slid into a red leather upholstered booth. “This
looks expensive,” she whispered. The menu was gold-embossed (also in red
leather) and ran to seven pages. Cocktails called Grasshoppers, Fuzzy Navels,
Manhattans and Rusty Nails were pictured in lurid Technicolor on separate menu.
She wondered if they served her usual, Coors Light.

Jeremy frowned over the selections. “We’re going to break
into the rainy day fund for this. Money is not going to stop us. I’m having
Surf ‘n Turf and a martini.
How about you?”

“My rainy day fund will buy me a beer. Maybe it’ll come with
peanuts. I told you I’m broke. And contrary to popular opinion—I don’t let guys
pay my way.”

“Good to know.” Jeremy grinned. “However, according to
Mandrake Falls’ newspaper of record, we’re engaged, so will you let your fiancé
buy you a meal? You can always break off our engagement tomorrow.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing for once and you won’t let
me. I’m not going to use you and abuse you, Jeremy. I actually like you, quite
a bit, and
I—
I want you to like me.”

“I do like you. You know I like you.”

“No—not that way.”
Jocelyn
struggled to find the words. “I want you to like me not because I’m pretty and
you want to sleep with me, but because you feel good being with me.”

His brown eyes met hers in the glow of the table lamp. “Is
that how you like me?”

“Yes.”

“You feel good being with me.” His voice was flat.

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?” She laughed. “And it’s not
because you buy me dinner or fix my plumbing or worship the ground I walk on. I
like you because I feel good when I’m with you. Do you feel good when you’re
with me?” She fiddled with her napkin and avoided his eyes.