So in Love Page 8

  She really liked him. He was honest and funny and didn’t take himself too seriously, something so many guys in LA were guilty of. “Wait! Aren’t you going to set it on fire?”

  He arched a brow at her, and she noticed he did it somewhat often. It was incredibly charming and only added to his appeal. “I could, but I’m not an expert.”

  “Then maybe we better stick to the whipped cream.” She gave him a saucy smile. “Just on the coffee?”

  He sprayed it into the mugs and winked at her. “I like the way you think.” He handed her a mug and tapped his against it. “Cheers.”

  “Can you say that with a British accent? I bet you can.”

  “Cheers, mate.” He waited a beat. “Is that better?”

  She curled her bare toes around the rung of the stool and sipped her coffee. “It’s fabulous.”

  “Me or the drink?”

  “All of it.” Heat and alcohol curled through her belly, mingling with a persistent flush of arousal. This guy was like sex crack. She giggled.

  He sipped his drink and got a mustache of whipped cream for his trouble. “What’s so funny?”

  She giggled again. “You have a whipped cream mustache.”

  His brow climbed his forehead again. “Do I? Maybe you should lick it off.”

  “Oh, don’t challenge me.” She scooted her mug to the side and did the same with the other detritus in her way. Then she pushed up from the stool and put a knee on the counter. The granite was cold and hard. She placed her palms facedown and leaned across. He held perfectly still as she licked her tongue along his upper lip. “Mmm. Delicious,” she murmured.

  His mouth captured hers in a brief but searing kiss. “Very.”

  She retreated across the island and plucked up the mug taking another drink. “You’re dangerous, I think.”

  “I can live with that description. You’re a temptress.”

  “And I can live with that.” Because she was sorely tempted. Which was why he was dangerous. She didn’t do relationships, especially with guys in small towns. But wait! That was what made him so perfect. He’d already said they had no strings—perfect. And he was into her the same way she was into him—also perfect. Best of all, he lived here and she lived in LA. So perfect.

  He picked up the whipped cream can and came around the bar. She turned on the barstool until her back hit the counter behind her.

  “What do you have in mind with that?”

  He looked at the can and then raked his gaze over her from head to toe. “So many things.”

  She whipped his shirt off over her head. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  Perfect indeed.

  Until it wasn’t. Which would happen sooner or later. For now, she’d enjoy the ride.

  7

  Crystal parked her car—rather the car Alaina kept at the house for visitors, primarily her, to use—in front of the library. She jumped out and locked it before hurrying inside.

  Kelsey smiled at her from the front. “Good morning!”

  Shivering, Crystal pulled her gloves off and shoved them into her pockets. “It’s freezing outside.”

  “Snow in the forecast again,” Kelsey said. “But we’ll see if that happens. Most of the time the forecasters get it wrong.”

  “Not because they don’t try,” Brooke said, joining Crystal at the counter. “It’s hard to nail the timing. A lot of elements have to line up just right for us to get valley snow.”

  Kelsey grinned. “Which is why it’s so great when it happens.”

  “It would be nice to see, especially since I missed it last month.” Crystal rubbed her hands together and looked at both of them. “Who’s ready for my Darryl update?”

  Kelsey’s eyes lit. “Me! I’m done shelving books.” She glanced around. “Alaina didn’t come with you?”

  “No, Alexa’s nanny is sick today. I briefed her over the phone on my way here.” Crystal had just met with Darryl before coming here for their scheduled meeting.

  “I just need my assistant to show up.” Kelsey’s gaze went to the clock behind the counter. “She’ll be here any minute. Why don’t you guys head up? Things are really coming together for the exhibit. A few holes here and there, namely about Bird’s Nest Ranch and Dorinda. But hopefully we’ll fill them pretty soon.”

  “We’re certainly closer than we’ve ever been,” Crystal said. She turned with Brooke to go upstairs to where the exhibit was housed.

  “Don’t tell her the new stuff until I come up!” Kelsey called after them.

  Crystal heard the door chime and hoped that Marci, Kelsey’s assistant had arrived. She and Brooke made their way up to the exhibit, which took up about two-thirds of the upper floor. The Archers had donated several glass-topped cases, which were now filled with newspaper clippings, letters, photographs, and various historical items from Ribbon Ridge’s history, including the Bible that had been used to swear Benjamin Archer into office as the first mayor of the town.

  She went to the case that held the brick that had started their endeavor. It also contained some pottery collected from the excavation of Bird’s Nest Ranch, as well as a chipped and faded shell cameo brooch. They had no proof that had belonged to Dorinda, but Crystal believed it had. The display wasn’t full as they were anticipating adding more items.

  Crystal glanced over at Brooke, who stood on the other side of the case. “I really hope I can get some letters or maybe even photographs from Jamie’s mom tonight.”

  “That’s tonight, huh?” Brooke asked.

  Crystal nodded. It felt strange to be meeting the parents of the guy she was sleeping with. She’d gone to his house the past two nights following the Whipped Cream Incident. She suppressed a smile thinking it was a good thing the can had run out when it did.

  “Yeah, Jamie set it up.”

  Kelsey joined them then, walking quickly into the exhibit. “Marci’s here. What did I miss?”

  “Nothing,” Brooke said. “Crystal was just telling me that she’s going to Sam and Angie’s tonight.”

  Kelsey gave Crystal a serious look. “Beware, she will stuff you until you can’t walk.”

  “Duly noted. Okay, so I met with Darryl, and I have to say we feel kind of dumb.”

  Brooke’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “We just now tried to find Dorinda’s family. Darryl found her birth certificate. She was born in Syracuse, New York in 1860.”

  “Wait, Syracuse?” Kelsey asked with a bit of excitement. “Benjamin Archer was from Syracuse.”

  “You’re right.” Crystal was surprised she hadn’t recalled that. She felt as if she’d memorized practically everything about Ribbon Ridge’s history. Not bad for someone who felt claustrophobic in a small town. “I should’ve mentioned that to Darryl. See, I am dumb.” Inwardly, she winced at that admission. But then she’d been dumb her whole life, so why should it bother her?

  Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Please. You are not dumb.”

  “I wouldn’t have remembered that,” Brooke said. “Do you think there’s a connection?”

  “There has to be. Two people from Syracuse coming to the same tiny town?”

  “Well, Ben was a lot older than her—almost thirty years. And he settled the town. Maybe Dorinda came here because their families knew each other?”

  “That would make sense,” Crystal said. “But would a young woman really come all the way across the country at that time by herself?”

  “We don’t know if she was by herself or not.”

  Crystal hung her head for a moment. “Duh. Darryl and I were shooting ourselves that we didn’t look for Dorinda’s background. Now I can’t believe we didn’t look for other Fosters—her maiden name.” She pulled her phone out and shot off a text to Darryl telling him about Benjamin Archer and asking him if he could find any connection as well as any other Fosters who might’ve come west with Dorinda.

  “Because we know she married Hiram Olsen here, right?” Brooke asked.

  Crystal nodded. �
�Yes, but I’d love to know where he was from too.” She sent another text to Darryl. “Sometimes I think I get lost in all this.”

  “Me too,” Kelsey agreed. “Anything else from Darryl?”

  Crystal’s lips curved up. “Yes, and this is exciting. He’s been working with some other historical societies around the Willamette Valley, and they finally found an article that mentioned the fire.”

  Brooke and Kelsey let out excited gasps. “Do tell!” Kelsey urged.

  “It’s from the Daily Journal, which was produced in Salem. Darryl’s working on getting the original for the exhibit for us.”

  “He’s the best,” Kelsey said. “I think he should maybe cut the ribbon on the exhibit next month.” It was due to open to the public right before Valentine’s Day.

  “Not a bad idea, but I’d think you should choose someone from Ribbon Ridge,” Crystal said.

  Brooke nodded. “I agree. Rob Archer, probably. They are the first family of Ribbon Ridge, and they did fund most of this.”

  “True,” Kelsey said. “But I think Rob would be the first one who’d support Darryl doing it. He and Emily are really into the history of this and appreciate all the research we’ve done—none of which would have been nearly as fruitful without Darryl’s help.” Kelsey gave Crystal a look of excited impatience. “Anyway, back to the article. What did it say?”

  “It wasn’t terribly descriptive, but it says a brothel outside Ribbon Ridge burned on July 28, 1902, which coincides with Dell Beatty’s letter and—”

  Brooke cut her off. “Dorinda’s death certificate. That means she died in the fire.”

  “Definitively. The article said the owner died.” Crystal pressed her lips together. They’d assumed that was what had happened given everything they’d learned, but this evidence was proof positive.

  Kelsey frowned, her eyes sad. “Well, bummer. I hate thinking she died in a fire.”

  “Especially one set by the fucking KKK.” Brooke’s eyes heated with anger. “Did the article mention that?”

  “No.” Crystal—and Darryl—had been disappointed.

  “That would be too easy,” Kelsey said darkly. “But we’ll get to the bottom of it. Maybe as early as tonight when you see what Angie has.”

  Brooke leaned her elbow on the display case and set her chin in her hand. “Ugh, do you really think Angie has a bunch of KKK stuff sitting in a box that she’s just going to pull out and let us put on display?”

  Kelsey shook her head. “I have no idea. Knowing Angie, she’d hate that there was any family connection to that vile organization.”

  Brooke straightened. “You got that right.” She looked over at Crystal. “Does she know what you’re looking for?”

  Crystal felt slightly uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Just historical stuff. I didn’t tell Jamie about the KKK. Like you said, it’s pretty distasteful.”

  Silence bloomed between them all for a moment. “But they should have a heads-up, right?” Brooke asked.

  “Yeah, probably,” Kelsey said, sounding a bit conflicted. “I get why Crystal didn’t say anything. But I think I’ll mention it to Luke tonight.”

  “I’ll do the same with Cam.” Brooke looked at them intently. “Geez, maybe we’re all dumb. If we’d just asked them a few days ago, they might’ve said, ‘Oh yeah, we have this crazy, horrible side of the family that was into that garbage.’”

  Crystal looked down at the display case. “Yeah, maybe. Damn, now I feel bad that I didn’t say anything.”

  “Don’t feel bad,” Brooke said. “I probably would’ve done the same thing. Besides, it’s not like you and Jamie are close like I am with Cam or Kelsey is with Luke. We’re the potential jerks here.”

  Crystal gave them both a stern stare, which she followed with a smile. “You aren’t either. We’ll fix it tonight. You’ll tell the guys, and I’ll handle whatever happens with Jamie and his folks.” Maybe she’d call Jamie when she left so she could talk to him in advance of meeting him. They’d agreed to drive separately to his parents’ so that no one thought it was a date.

  Because it wasn’t a date.

  “You know what could happen tonight?” Brooke asked, exchanging a look with Kelsey. “Angie will assume you and Jamie are dating.”

  “But we aren’t. We’re not even driving together.”

  They traded looks again and this time finished by laughing. “As if that matters,” Brooke said. “Angie’s been trying to pair her boys off for years.”

  “Well, two of them are taken care of. That ought to satisfy her.” Besides, Jamie wasn’t interested in being paired off. “Jamie likes being single.”

  Brooke and Kelsey looked at each other again, their eyes widening. “And how do you know that?” Brooke asked Crystal.

  Uh-oh. She’d stepped right in that. Damn. Well, it wasn’t a secret or anything. Wait, was it? They’d only talked about not wanting his parents to think they were dating.

  Because they weren’t.

  “I did talk to him the other night at the pub.” Even Crystal realized that sounded pathetic. “And on New Year’s Eve,” she added somewhat lamely.

  Kelsey used the sleeve of her cardigan to wipe a smudge off the glass. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t fault you if you’d…talked to him any other times.”

  “Me neither,” Crystal said. “In fact, I hope you have. Talked to him, that is.”

  Crystal threw her hands up. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You want to know how I know? Fine. We hooked up New Year’s Eve. And a few times since then. It’s no big deal. To either of us. We’re cool. We aren’t together. We’re just having fun.”

  “That is cool. And I won’t say a word.” Brooke drew her fingers past her lips and made like she was tossing away an invisible key.

  Kelsey copied Brooke’s movements. “My lips are also sealed.” She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “And I think it’s very cool.”

  “It’s also nothing so don’t go pairing us off.” She scowled at both of them. “Or you’re no better than Angie.”

  “Good point,” Brooke said soberly. “We’re just happy for you as girlfriends. We fully support whatever you want. Right, Kels?”

  Kelsey nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I’m glad you’re having fun. Those Westcott boys seem really good at that.” She laughed softly, and Brooke joined her.

  Crystal smiled in return. “I can only speak from experience with Jamie, but yeah. He’s really good at that.”

  Brooke’s brows vaulted up her forehead. “Awesome. I’d ask for details, but is that weird?”

  They all dissolved into laughter again, and Crystal was glad she’d told them. She hoped telling Jamie about his family’s connection to the KKK went as well.

  * * *

  Jamie let himself into his parents’ house, calling out, “Hello!” as he stepped into the entryway. The familiar smell of his mother’s roasted chicken filled his nose and made his stomach growl.

  Dad waved from the dining room, where he was setting the table. “Hi, Jamie. Come on in.”

  Jamie closed the door and went into the kitchen, where Mom was cutting up vegetables for the salad.

  She glanced up at him as he set a bottle of West Arch Estate wine on the counter. “Hi, dear. Oh, you didn’t have to bring that. We have plenty.”

  “I know, but I have more.” It was his winery after all. Rather, the one he shared with his brothers and Hayden.

  Dad joined them at the island. He adjusted his glasses as he picked up the bottle and studied the label. “This is their first pinot, Ang. We only have a couple of bottles of that, and I’m saving them.” He set it back on the counter and pushed his glasses back up his nose, sending Jamie an inquisitive look. “This is a pretty remarkable bottle of wine. Is this a special occasion?”

  Mom stopped chopping and stared at Jamie, her green eyes bright beneath the pendant lights. “Is it? I thought you said Crystal was just a friend who wanted to talk about historical something or other.”

  “
She is. Man, I guess with Cam’s and Luke’s recent behavior you’d think settling down was catching or something—I guarantee you it’s not.” He gave both of them grim looks. “I told you this is not a date. Can you both behave yourselves? I’m serious.” It might not be a date, but he couldn’t help thinking about getting Crystal alone later.

  They’d spent some crazy amazing nights together the past few days. Not the entire night—she always went home sometime around two. Maybe tonight she’d stay until morning…

  “Jamie?” Mom’s voice broke into his musings.

  “Yeah?”

  “I said, can’t a mother just want to see her son happy?”

  “Of course she can. And I am happy.” He turned to his dad. “So what’s the plan for tomorrow if it snows overnight? You ready to call a snow day?”

  Dad shook his head. “Not me. I leave that to the district. But they’ll ask me to drive around the neighborhood if it snows—to test the roads out so they can make a decision about whether to have school. I promise you every kid in Ribbon Ridge is doing their snow ritual tonight.”

  Jamie laughed. “Ice cubes in the toilet or something, right?”

  “Yes, and pajamas inside out,” Mom said, having gone back to slicing tomatoes. “Though your brothers could never get you to do that.”

  Jamie twitched. “God, no, that sounds really uncomfortable. I’m surprised Cam did it—he’s so picky about his clothes.”

  Mom paused in her chopping again, her head tilting to the side. “You know, I think he stopped around third grade. Which was when he started to insist upon choosing his own clothes.” She shook her head. “Each of you boys have your quirks, I’ll give you that. Luke was always so quiet. And you’re a walking mess. Did you get the name of the housekeeper I texted you?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Jamie walked away from the counter as a means of trying to politely show he wasn’t interested in this line of conversation.

  Luck was on his side, because the doorbell rang at that moment. “I’ll get it.” He went to the door and opened it. Crystal stood on the doorstep, her coat hugging her athletic frame and a cute red hat pulled over her golden locks. “Come in.” She stepped inside, and he noted she was wearing the sexy boots again. She’d let him put them on her the other night—with nothing else.