Beau’s mother had not been exaggerating.
The sheer volume of conflicting suggestions for how to best spruce up the town—not to mention the bickering that came with too many choices—was enough to make Delaney’s head spin. There were suggestions ranging from horse-drawn carriages (quickly nixed for the unsustainable expense) to matching honeysuckle signs for every shop along Main Street, and everything in between.
Neon signs were even mentioned at one point, though that was quickly nixed, thank God. The honeysuckle signs were also eventually thrown out after much debate when Georgia convinced them that people might get the impression that every shop on Main Street was a florist. So then came the bee motif suggestion, and the bickering started all over again.
It was exhausting just listening to them.
But, while Delaney normally would have preferred to do just about anything other than try to participate in the cat herding exercise that was the Beautification Committee meeting, today this was exactly the distraction that she needed. How else was she to get Beau and his exceptional kissing skills out of her mind?
Because, hot damn could that boy kiss. And move. And smile. And just about everything else that seemed to make her lose the sense God gave her.
Focus, Delaney! Coming to her feet, she offered a smile to her fellow committee members. “I tell you what. Why don’t y’all keep brainstorming, and I’ll take a walk down Main Street to see if I can come up with any ideas.”
Georgia chuckled and made a shooing motion. “Go on. I’ll man the chair and whip while you’re gone.”
She had been gracious enough not to utter a peep about the goodnight kiss incident, which made the day a lot less awkward than Delaney had feared it would be. She was holding onto the hope that Beau’s mother had assumed he was teasing.
The walk proved to be just what she needed to get some insight.
At first glance, the street was definitely quaint and inviting. The flowers in particular had gone a long way to spruce things up. But as she walked, she began to see beyond the first impression to the things that didn’t appeal. When you got past the flowers, the charming architecture, and the friendly waves from just about everyone in town, it became apparent that some things were looking a little tired.
It wasn’t surprising. Many of the current businesses had been there since the fifties, and the décor had turned a little shabby in the intervening years. Signs were faded, the window dressings dated. There were a handful of shops that had made efforts to improve and modernize, but that just contributed to the place looking somewhat disjointed.
The disconnect carried for the entire length of Main Street, with no two consecutive businesses matching. The only thing they really had in common was the proliferation of American flags that seemed to hang in every shop window in town.
When she reached the end of the street, she swiveled on her heels, suddenly knowing exactly what the town needed. She hurried back, excited to share.
“Well?” Georgia asked expectantly when Delaney reached the group. She looked even more beleaguered by the group than when Delaney had left.
“If you are willing to bear with me, I think I have an idea that will blow the competition out of the water.”
Lenelle Winslow narrowed her eyes, clearly not yet trusting her. “And what do you know about it? I know Georgia said you bring a fresh perspective, but I doubt you’re some sort of town planning expert.”
Smiling with more confidence than she’d felt in a long time, Delany shook her head. “No, but I do have a degree in interior design, an MBA, and several years experience running a designer home décor and gifts boutique in Birmingham.”
“Oh.” Pursing her thin lips, Mrs. Winslow gave a little flip of her hand. “Carry on, I guess.”
It was a small success, but it felt good. Delaney exchanged a commiserative grin with Georgia before diving into her proposal. She really, really hoped they would listen. Though she’d been in Honeysuckle Hill less than a week, she was unexpectedly fond of the place, and more than that, the people themselves. She really wanted them to win the contest. That kind of recognition could be a true boon for their economy.
“So what do you think?” she asked at the end.
The committee members looked around at each other, eyebrows raised. After a moment, Georgia wrapped her arm around Delaney’s shoulders. “I think we have a new committee co-president. All in favor?”
“Aye!”
***
Beau had expected Delaney to be back at the shop by noon. Counted on it, really. But when he finally rolled the garage doors shut at half past six, he had yet to see hide or hair of her.
Their time apart had given him plenty of time to mull over their changing relationship, at least. She’d insisted that they needed to think this through, and he’d done exactly that. His final conclusion on the matter: he didn’t want to think it through.
There were no good answers for them. No pat solution that would make them both happy. He had a rock solid commitment to join his grandfather’s firm in Birmingham, and she had a friend who had stuck her neck out to get her a job in Florida.
What he did know was that they had one perfect moment in time to be together, no strings attached. It wasn’t like they were strangers. They’d been friends for years, so neither of them would hurt the other. The incident in December notwithstanding, of course.
When he pulled into the driveway, he exhaled at the sight of her sitting on his front porch, rocking idly in one of the rocking chairs that had been there long before he’d been born, smiling at him as though she’d been waiting all day to welcome him home.
He went straight to her, a moth drawn to a flame. She stood, absolutely beaming, and said, “You’ll never believe what happened today.”
He didn’t say a word, he just cupped both sides of her face and kissed her, right there on the front porch before God and man. Or at least before God and wildlife, since there wasn’t another soul around that he could see.
She was still for a moment, clearly taken off guard, but when she threaded her fingertips through his belt loops and pulled him closer, he knew he had her. Which was good, since she definitely had him. For as long as she was here, he vowed to be putty in her hands.
Releasing her a minute or two later, he stepped back and smiled. “So what happened?”
She blinked, her brain taking a moment to catch up. Good—he liked to think he affected her the way she affected him. “I, um, well . . . the committee voted me as their new co-president.”
It was his turn to blink. “What? Those old biddies actually turned to an outsider?” Surely hell had frozen over somewhere.
She grinned and gave him a teasing tap to his arm with the back of her hand. “Hey now, your mom is on that committee. And it’s men and women of varied ages, for your information.”
“Who all act like old biddies. How in the hell did you pull that magic trick?” He leaned back against the porch railing, taking her with him.
Her little one-shouldered shrug couldn’t hide her gratification. “I wowed them with my very impressive résumé of course. Oh, and gave them an idea they couldn’t refuse.”
“Which is . . . ?”
“Quintessential American classic,” she said grandly, as though reading a marquis.
“You suggested a Bel Air?” he asked, not following at all.
“No, but the idea is based on the Bel Air, as well as your restored truck. I suggested that they don’t need to chuck the fifties vibe of much of the street—they needed to embrace it. I suggested they choose a cohesive font from the era, select a classic American color scheme, and have all the signs and window dressings redone to reflect that. Each will have its own unique charm, but with a unifying theme that will provide the aesthetic appeal they’ve been looking to capture.”
“That actually sounds pretty great,” he said, impressed with her concept.
“Plus,” she added, clearly pleased with his praise, “I suggested they contact the local car club and request that anyone with a 1950’s car come park here for a day. The centerpiece will be your truck, though, right in front of the diner. We’re going to color-match the sign paint with the red you painted the truck. What do you think?”
He loved that she decided to base her design more or less around his truck. “I think it’s the best damn idea I’ve heard in years. With your eye for detail, I know it will look amazing.”
She straightened and pulled away, all smiles. “I’m glad you’re on board, because it’s going to take every free minute I have from now until Friday to pull this together.”
“Wait a second, now,” he said, reaching for her again. “On second thought, it’s a rotten idea and you need to forget you ever thought of it.”
Dancing away from his grasp, she shook her head. “Too late. I’m already knee deep in it.” Her smile dulled a bit, sliding towards regret. “Besides, it’s for the best. I really don’t want to start something that will only lead to disappointment.”
He frowned. “Are you saying my kisses disappoint?”
“I’m saying,” she said softly, but with a firm edge in her voice, “that I want your kisses way too much, and that will only lead to disappointment. Better to back away now before I’m in over my head.”
It was already too late for him. All he could think about was getting closer to her, not farther away. His mind went back to the way she had felt in his arms yesterday at the junkyard. “Delaney—” he started to say, aching to have her in his arms again.
She cut him off with determined look as she opened the screen door. “My mind’s made up. From now on, you and I are going to pretend that yesterday never happened. We are friends again, and that’s all.”
Well, if that wasn’t a kick in the gut. Still, he didn’t want to give up that easily. With a sly smile, he went straight for the loophole. “So does that mean that the kiss a few minutes ago still happened?”
She gave him a ‘nice try’ look before disappearing inside, letting the screen door bang shut behind her. Beau blew out a long, frustrated breath. He understood where she was coming from, even if he didn’t want to. Still, he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. There had to be some middle ground here, and come hell or high water, he intended to find it.
With determination straightening his spine, he stood and headed back to the truck. He needed to think, and there was no better place to do that than under the hood of his old Chevy.