Southern Spinster Page 4

  She laughed at her own joke, paying no mind to how silly she sounded, how silly she was being. Desperate times…

  “I ‘spose if you’re a spirit, I can talk to ya pretty much anywhere.” The windows continued to fog, and her confidence grew. It was oddly private, this massive pool in this massive house. “I don’t know how this goes,” she continued, running her hands over bubbles. “When I pray to my God, there’s usually a pattern to it, gratitude, blessings, expression of love… I’m not quite sure how it works with you, but I’ll do my best.”

  Her fingers disappeared beneath the surface. She really needed to repaint her nails.

  “I know you probably get a lot of people through this place. There are loads to choose from, probably more… appealing candidates this time around, but… Well, if you got an extra arrow, would ya mind shootin’ it my way?”

  She quickly changed tones, her voice speedily trying to rationalize why she should be the one to find love. “I know it’s selfish to ask, really, and I don’t want to be selfish, but I’m kinda desperate, too, ya know? I’m thirty-six and… no one seems to want me. I’ve run outta options back home, and the internet hasn’t been too kind. There’s a man I already like here, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s just another cruel joke from mother nature to fall for someone who doesn’t… who won’t…”

  Her voice grew thick, the air around her hard to breathe. She pushed up out of the hot water and slid to the edge of the pool, dangling her legs over the side. The sudden coolness sent a spike of goosebumps up and down her skin, but it loosened the tightness in her lungs.

  “I got a lot to offer,” she continued, swinging her legs lazily in the water. “I’ll learn to cook. Promise I will. I’m told I’m fun and friendly. I don’t have much money, but I got killer drive. I’d be a good wife, a good mother… I really do got a lot of love to give. All I need is someone to give some back, is all.” She glanced up at the mist clinging to the window. “Help me out?”

  She sat for a moment, waiting for a sign or something. After a minute the jets on the hot tub shut off, and the room fell silent yet again.

  Silent… all except for a small cough that echoed like a boom box through the room, buzzing in Maybelle’s ears.

  Her eyes widened, and she gasped, clutching at her chest. Michael stood at the doorway, propped against the open door. Amusement danced in his dark eyes as he looked her up and down.

  “Let me guess,” he said with a smile. “You want to know how long I’ve been standing here.”

  Maybelle couldn’t tell if it was the steam from the hot tub or embarrassment that clouded her cheeks with heat. She covered her face and peeked through her fingers.

  “Actually I’m not sure if I do.”

  Michael grinned and lifted his foot, shucking off his shoe. “I could lie if it makes you feel better.”

  “Yes, do that.”

  He pulled off the other shoe and pointed with it. “I just got here. Didn’t hear you talking to a ghost at all.”

  She kicked up a splash that didn’t reach him in the slightest. “I feel so much better,” she teased, ignoring the wave of bees going through her stomach as he reached for the button on his jeans. Her gaze darted to the water and she examined her toes and planned on painting them a bright shade of blue when she got home. No… pink.

  His warmth fuzzed up her arm as he sat next to her in boxer shorts and an undershirt, his clothes crumpled lazily on the floor next to his shoes. His long legs splashed into the water, sending droplets against her face. She swiped at her cheek, heart beating wildly at how close he was, how comfortable he seemed to be.

  “Was he a good listener?” he asked, nudging her with his massive bicep. Maybelle looked up, admiring his muscular frame and knee-melting smile.

  “Eros?” She cleared her throat and shrugged. “I sure hope so.”

  “He isn’t very good on the advice, though.”

  “I ain’t lookin’ for advice.”

  He chuckled, slowly kicking his legs in the water. Sweet potato pie, his calves could rival The Rock’s. “Good. He’s not much of a talker.”

  A laugh bubbled in her throat, and she boldly nudged him back, liking the way his skin felt against hers, zapping like a joker’s buzzer. “Well, I normally talk enough for two, so I don’t mind.”

  “Ha. Sounds like me.” He slipped into the water and floated out a few feet, swiveling to face her. She gulped, tempted to join him, but also a little scared to. “But hey, if you wanna keep talking, I can try to shut up long enough to listen.”

  “Oh, I was pretty much done.”

  “Really?” A half-smile slid onto his pink lips, his teeth white against his dark skin. A rush of excitement bubbled in her belly. “I was kinda hoping to hear more about how amazing you think you are.”

  She faux gasped and kicked a wave at him, this time covering his head. He swiped the water from his face with a laugh, shaking out his short black and gray hair.

  “I was only pleadin’ my case with the guy. I’m a catch, ya know, and I figured Cupid should be aware.”

  “I think all you had to do was speak,” he said, cupping his hands on the surface of the water and shooting a stream across the pool. “That accent of yours is enough to drive a man crazy.”

  “Crazy in a good way, right?”

  “Oh, a very good way.”

  Her heart stuttered. Was this it? Was this what a spark was? What flirting truly felt like? She thought she’d known, but her body was wild with new sensations, electricity zapping her skin enough that she was surprised there wasn’t a current running along the pool’s surface.

  Apprehension lay in the wake, however, and she gripped the edge of the pool. “You always such a smooth talker?”

  He laughed. “I try my best, I suppose. The benefit of working at Frostville is you get really good at talking with strangers.”

  “Or poking fun at them,” she quipped.

  “Only the attractive ones.”

  She shook her head, biting away a grin. “There ya go again.”

  A sly smile touched his lips, and he slowly swam his way back toward her. She tensed as he closed the gap between them, her heart pounding warm and fierce when he placed his hands on either side of her hips, holding himself at arms’ length with the edge of the pool. She froze, her breathing heavy and uneven. Her cool, calm persona had fallen wayside to the playful and passionate look in his midnight eyes.

  “Does it make you feel better if I said you weren’t the first?”

  Confusion kicked her out of her daze. “Excuse me?”

  He circled a finger to the ceiling. “Eros. He’s the most popular guy around here. A lot of people talk to him.”

  Relief fell from her lips. “Is that how so many guests find their soul mates? Their desperation is overheard by nosy staff members?”

  He tilted his head. “Not nosy. Overly curious, maybe.”

  The warmth surrounding her body left when he swiveled away, leaning against the pool edge next to her. She took a much needed breath of fresh air.

  “Gotta say,” he said, “I’m surprised to see someone like you here.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You seem bold, outgoing. You’re gorgeous and got that accent.” He gazed up at her, and she prayed her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Most people stumbling through this place are a bit… reserved. Or picky.”

  She snorted. She was far from either of those things. Heck, she’d wrangled her brother into coming so he’d keep her from snagging up just any guy who paid her any mind. Hmm… she wondered what he’d think of Michael.

  Was Garreth picky? He was definitely reserved. Did she even stand a chance with him? Her eyes drifted over Michael and his muscles and smooth, relaxed manner.

  Did she even want a chance with Garreth?

  She straightened her shoulders and pushed into the pool, her splash sending water into Michael’s face which was more satisfying than she’d anticipated.

  “What�
�s your story?” she asked. “Not Michael the scorned ex-lover and pretty obvious suspect in the murder mystery, but Michael the actor. Is that your real name?”

  He raised a brow and circled her like a vulture with his prey. “You did your research. And yeah, that is my name.”

  “Are you single?”

  “Yep.” He smiled, seemingly impressed with her continued boldness. She decided to embrace that side of her while she was with him. “Never saw the need to be tied down.”

  She frowned. “I hate that turn of phrase. Honestly I feel more tied down being single.”

  He stopped his circling. “How so?”

  “Seems I’m stuck. Nothing changing, nothing moving. Just lonely meals and an empty side of the bed.” She dragged her nails along the water, flicking a stream at him. “Falling in love sounds much more freeing.”

  He flicked water back at her. “Seems we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

  Well, that was disappointing. The first time she thought she’d felt an actual spark and it was diminished in one conversation.

  “You ever been in love?” she asked, hoping to recharge the flame.

  He shook his head and pointed a finger. “I see what you’re doing. Trying to tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about because I’ve never been in love. Don’t worry, I’ve been told. Millions of times.”

  “Family pressure to get married?”

  “Understatement of the year.” He started circling again, and she circled with him. “You don’t get to forty years old without hearing you’re a disappointment for not providing grandchildren before someone’s dead.”

  “And always told someone knows a co-worker’s brother’s cousin who would be perfect for you.”

  “I’ve had many ‘meant-to-be’ dates. Believe me, embracing the single life has made me much happier.”

  “Until you find ‘the one.’”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, the elusive ‘one.’ At one point in my life, I wished she would show up already. But hey, I think I’m okay now. If she never does.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Is it?” He cocked a brow. “Or is it… what was the word you used? Freeing?”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, a surefire sign of defeat. But a smile rested on her face, and hope was a bright red flame in her chest. There was something to be said about open and easy conversation between near strangers, and she was sure that when she finally got to sleep, she wouldn’t be dreaming of anyone other than Michael and his beautiful, deep laugh.

  Maybelle stretched across the queen canopy bed, the early morning sunlight streaming across her eyes. She glanced at the clock, letting out a hollow laugh at how little sleep she’d gotten.

  Michael had been a fun surprise, not only talking deeply with her in a lighthearted manner, but starting a water war that lasted well into the early hours of the morning. They’d left a trail of water behind them on their way back to their rooms, like breadcrumbs in Hansel and Gretel. When she’d locked herself in her room, she’d been half tempted to follow Michael’s trail to see what floor he was staying on. She wouldn’t mind another “happy accident” run-in during her stay.

  As fun as he’d been, a niggle of annoyance scratched inside the corners of her mind. Of course she’d find someone who was not only attractive, good company, and seemed genuinely interested in her in some way, but also non-committal. Maybelle was ready for a relationship now—a fast one. Marriage, kids, that messy house… Would being involved with a man like Michael mean sacrificing those things? She wouldn’t be alone anymore. It very well could be worth it.

  She blinked, surprised when a wet tear rolled across her cheek and soaked into the pillow. Having it all was perhaps too much to ask, but she wasn’t ready to give up on it yet.

  A clink of ceramic cut through her thoughts, and she rolled off the comfy mattress and gave her love handle a good scratch as she walked out to greet her brother.

  “Heya,” she said through a yawn. He lazily waved a good morning back, filling up a large mug with coffee. Her nose wrinkled and she strode to the mini fridge for some water. Coffee was not her cuppa, and the smell was only half of the reason why she disliked it so much.

  “You know what time we gotta be down there?” Will asked, his voice groggy but not irritated. She held back a grin, grateful he was at least trying.

  “Breakfast is from eight to ten.” Her water bottle cracked as she guzzled down a good portion. “There’s not like, a big act or something until tonight. The actors are just there to be in character and the guests can ask them questions or whatever to figure out who the murderer is.”

  He raised a brow, steam rising from his mug. “You done this before without me knowin’?”

  “I read the pamphlets and itineraries.” She wiggled a proud finger at herself. “Thorough researcher.”

  “Or a desperate one,” he teased.

  “That too.”

  He let out a long breath over his coffee. “Anyone grab your attention yet?”

  A drop of warmth touched her heart. Will probably couldn’t be less interested in her dating life, but he always had a way of making sure that what was important to her was important to him also.

  “Yes,” she replied honestly, though she wasn’t sure how honest she wanted to be just yet.

  He waited, then rolled his hand for her to continue.

  She laughed. “Hold onto yer cattle, a’right? It’s only been a day and I don’t wanna jinx anything.”

  “One day in a week-long period is a chunk of time. I’d say you don’t have to worry about taking things slow here.”

  “Oh, stop making good points.” She slid her water back into the fridge and bounced toward her room. Even lack of sleep couldn’t keep her drive away. She had a man to find, and like Will pointed out, she didn’t have much time to do it.

  By the time Maybelle had primped and primed it was already nine forty-five, and breakfast was nearly finished. She snagged a cheese bagel with strawberry cream cheese that was made from heaven and wandered through the different rec rooms where guests and actors were mingling.

  Michael had caught her eye a few times, and though she wanted to talk with him, he wasn’t her target this morning.

  Garreth was a missing man so far, and frustration coiled in her belly next to her breakfast. Curiosity had plagued her while she’d done her hair and slipped on her “Tuesday” dress—a modest and fun number that made her look approachable and cute. Michael had been so upfront about his thoughts on marriage, but Garreth seemed to be a bit more cautious about opening up. She’d always thought that was an incompatible quality, what with her own personality shouting to the world what she wanted and why she wanted it and never hesitating to let her thoughts be known. But she found his shyness absolutely endearing and so unexpected, and she wanted to open him up and see what was inside.

  Will had ventured downstairs long before she had, but he’d kept an amused eye on her antics, hopping from room to room and socializing with anyone she’d run into—literally and figuratively. At this rate, she wouldn’t find Garreth until it was time for them to pack up and go home.

  When the clock ticked closer to eleven, she let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping. Perhaps he wasn’t feeling well? Or maybe he wasn’t a morning person. Mornings had always been her favorite time of day, so eleven o’clock seemed so late, but to other people—her momma, for one—eleven was still early.

  What if he’d gone home?

  A frown pulled the corners of her mouth, and she went to find Will, see if he was doing all right and not hating every minute he was spending at Frostville.

  She found him next to a large plant, like he was trying to hide. Oh sweet cheeses.

  Her heels clacked against the floor as she made her way over, the sound covered by the hustle and bustle of the full recreation room he was just outside of. His eyes were locked on something inside the room, and she followed his gaze until she landed on the back of
Garreth’s head. He was hunched over a desk, a computer screen lighting up his handsome features.

  “Oh!” she squealed, and her brother jumped ten feet into the air next to her. She suppressed a laugh and fixed her hair. “I’ve been lookin’ for Garreth all mornin’,” she explained, running her hands over her dress and pinching her cheeks to add a fresh blush to her skin. “This look okay?” Her finger circled around her face.

  Will shook himself out of whatever trance he’d been in. “You’re good.”

  “Your words are so encouraging.” She stuck her tongue out and scurried over to Garreth before he was suddenly surrounded by all the single ladies.

  “Hey there,” she said cheerfully, the urgency to get to know him spiking her confidence. She propped up against the desk, trailing her fingers along the wood until his pretty, brown eyes met hers.

  “HeMayuhfergal,” he sputtered, then squeezed his eyes tight and shook his head. “Uh… let me try that again.”

  A giggle tickled her throat, and she gestured for him to continue. He sat back in his seat, ignoring the laptop. Eye contact seemed to be a struggle of his, but he was really trying hard with her.

  “Hi Maybelle,” he said slower, a relieved laugh coming out when he got the words out. She loved hearing the simplest phrases falling from those beautiful lips in a jumbled mess.

  “What are you workin’ on?” she asked, tiptoeing her nails over the smooth part of the laptop. That perfect chin dimple of his made an appearance.

  “Oh, it’s stupid.” He reached for the lid, ready to shut it. She set a hand on top of his to stop him.

  “I like stupid things,” she teased. His laugh was a shaky mess that she felt in her soul. “Show me?”

  Maybelle liked to think she was a pro in the art of flirting. Heck, she’d been practicing for decades now. But her pulse had skyrocketed with his hand under hers, her brain fuzzing and knees melting. She wasn’t quite sure if she was flirting or just as awkward as he was.

  After a beat, he gave her a shy smiled and steadied the laptop open. He clicked on a spreadsheet, and up popped a list of all the murder mystery characters, their bios and relationships with one another, and color-coded suspects.