Winter's Fyre Page 4

  It wasn't going to do her any good to cry over him. She should be thankful they had met in the first place. She should feel especially blessed that they had shared an intimate night together.

  "Now's not the time to cry,” she told herself firmly. “That time would come if you're never able to find him and make good your promise."

  As the day progressed Shelby came to accept the fact that Wayne would not be coming back. Yesterday had been a beautiful dream. No, not a dream. An alternate reality. Another time in another Maple Cove so far away, it might as well be on the other side of the universe.

  By the time evening descended, Shelby had decided to go ahead and make good her promise. It would be another five days before the roads were clear enough to let her.

  The five-hour trip to York seemed longer. When she finally reached the outskirts of the city, she stopped at the first phone booth she spotted and looked up the address to Winter Renovations. A gas station attendant was able to give her directions to the business that was located in a small two-story gingerbread near downtown.

  Parking across the street, Shelby paused for a moment to stare at the old, restored home. She could tell how the moldings and eaves had been lovingly restored to their almost original condition, and she knew those touches had to have come directly from Wayne. From the porch banister to the window sashes and shutters, right down to the choice in the color of the paint, all of it reflected his taste and persistence in maintaining as much authentic detail as possible in each project.

  "Okay. Time to bite the bullet,” she told herself. Her stomach answered queasily, and she felt herself perspiring despite the freezing weather.

  She walked across the road and up the short steps to the front door. A sign instructing her to COME ON IN greeted her at the door. Shelby turned the knob and entered the foyer where a middle-aged woman was seated at a desk near the stairs. Hearing Shelby enter, she looked up from her typewriter and smiled.

  "Hello. Can I help you?"

  "Yes. Yes, is there a Wayne Winter working here?"

  "Yes, there is,” the woman said, reaching for the phone. “Do you have an appointment?"

  "No. I mean, I met him a while back. He told me to look him up if I had the chance."

  The secretary smiled. “I see. May I say who's calling?"

  "Shelby Fyre.” Of course, he won't remember me, she told herself, because in this timeline they had yet to meet. Oh, shit. What am I doing here?

  Numb, she watched and listened to the woman speak to Wayne on the other end of the line. When she was done, the secretary smiled as she hung up.

  "He'll be right down. If you would like, take a seat in the parlor. There's a nice fire going in there."

  Shelby thanked her and went into the adjacent room that reminded her of the parlor at the inn. It was small and cozy. Intimate. The perfect place to discuss business. Or to dash hopes and dreams.

  She sat in an old Queen Anne, which she would have bet a year's income was the real thing. If that was the case, it probably would have cost her a year's income. Hugging herself, Shelby rocked nervously and prayed her emotions would survive this encounter. Everything she'd dreamt about rested on the next few minutes. Everything she had ever wished for would be decided—

  "Shelby Fyre?"

  Her head jerked up to hear the familiar deep voice coming from the parlor door. Already it was beginning to affect her heart, making it beat at nearly twice its normal tempo. Swallowing hard, Shelby managed to nod.

  The man standing before her looked no different than he had when he had appeared in her bedroom. It was the same face, the same incredible blue eyes, the same rock-hard body sculpted by the work he did himself. At the thought of his body and the thick length of cock attached to it, Shelby forced her eyes to travel back up to his face.

  "My secretary tells me we've met before. I'm sorry, but frankly I don't remember the meeting."

  He was trying to do everything except call her a flat-out liar, and she could understand. “A-actually,” she stammered as she got to her feet, “I was given your name by a fr-friend of mine. I own a little bed and breakfast inn in Maple Cove—"

  "Wait a minute,” Wayne interrupted. “Fyre? Like the Fyreside Inn?” At her nod, his smile broadened.

  "I haven't had the pleasure of staying there, but I've heard quite a lot about it. A well-maintained Victorian, isn't it?"

  At her second nod, he asked, “What can I do for you?"

  She had managed to glimpse at his left hand. It was ringless, but that didn't mean he wasn't attached.

  "Actually, Mr. Winter, it's not as maintained as I would like it to be. I suck at doing repairs. So I was wondering if I could persuade you to come look at my inn and give me an estimate on what you think it would take to restore it."

  Wow, it was amazing how her mind just opened up and allowed her start thinking clearly again.

  He rubbed his chin as he studied her. “The offer sounds tempting. I'll admit, I have a weakness for Victorians. Okay. I'll tell you what. Do you have plans for this evening, Miss Fyre? I mean, you're not needing to check in with your parents or husband, are you?” he hastily inquired.

  She smiled. “I'm single, Mr. Winter. And I don't have any plans."

  "Excellent. How about we discuss the details over dinner then?"

  His eyes were sparkling. He looked like a child being given a free ticket to an amusement park. Shelby felt her heart leap with promise.

  "I would love to. Shall I meet you here?"

  "Why don't I pick you up? Where are you staying?"

  "I don't know,” she shrugged with a giggle. “I just got into town. I haven't found a motel yet."

  "Really?” He glanced at his watch and held up an index finger. “Give me a minute.” He left her, disappearing into the hallway. Less than a minute later he was back.

  "Would you have any objections to me going ahead and showing you around town? There are several Victorians here in York that I would like for you to see. I did their renovations, and I would love to brag about them."

  "What about your business?” she started to object as he grabbed his jacket from the entry hall closet.

  "This is business,” he smiled. And maybe with a little luck it could develop into more personal business. Unable to stop the growing flame inside her, Shelby shook her head as she returned the smile.

  I want you to promise me that if you don't, I mean if I don't show up tomorrow, that you'll come looking for me. Well, she was keeping her promise. And it looked like he would be keeping his, too. One day, one night—that is all it would take.

  Maybe this time she wouldn't need to make a wish upon a Christmas star to make her dream come true.

  The End

  About the author:

  www.geocities.com/carolyngregg1969/

  Carolyn and her family come from the Texas hill country outside Austin. Writing is her hobby, and hubby approves because it keeps her out of the malls.

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  Visit www.redrosepublishing.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.