Free On the Corner of Heartache and Hopeful--MIC by Lynda Bailey

she probably meant her and
her crew, he liked to think it included him. “It’d be great, babe.”
    After a moment,
she pulled away with a frown. “Oh, hell. Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t be able to
manage all that. I can barely manage what I have now.”
    “I could help.”
    Another laugh
escaped. “Right. Take time away from your busy New York life to talk me though
all the problems I know I’ll end up causing myself.”
    Scott searched
her face. “Who said I’d be in New York?”
    Mic stared at
him, her eyes wide. “You’re staying in Tatum?”
    He tugged her
braid. “I’m thinking there might be one or two reasons for me to stay.”
    In less than a
blink, her expression went from surprised to panic. “Well, uh…” she edged away
so they were no longer touching. “This shouldn’t be a hasty decision on your
part.”
    His heart
clutched. Obviously she didn’t want him as desperately as he did her. “I see,”
he murmured.
    “See what?”
    “Nothing.” He
turned away, the pain in his chest crowding his heart. “I just thought we had
something special between us.”
    Her hand brushed
his arm. “It’s very special, but is it enough for you to give up everything in
New York?”
    “Give up what?
Air pollution? Bad traffic? People always nasty because they’re always in a
hurry? An over-sized, insanely expensive apartment I rarely see because I’m so
crazed at work?”
    He grasped her
hand and led her to the bed. Somewhere in this conversation, he’d stopped even
considering going back to New York. He wanted to stay in Tatum.
    With Mic.
    He sat next to
her, his gaze again searching hers. “With you, I can breathe. I can…live. It
sounds stupid, but I feel at home. Only three other people have ever made me
feel that way. My mom and dad and Nonie.” He swallowed hard and dove over the
cliff-of-no-return. “I feel my home is with you, Mic. Whether in Tatum or New
York or Timbuktu.”
    Her wary
expression remained. “Will that be enough?”
    “I don’t know,
but it’s a start.” He studied her hand, knowing he had to be honest. “Please understand,
I’m not proclaiming some undying love. But I like you an awful lot and believe
I could easily fall head-over-heels in love with you.” He forced himself to
meet her gaze. “If you’re willing to meet me halfway.”
    She gave a small
shrug. “This is all so sudden.”
    His heart sank
further as he stood. “I understand.” He tried to speak past the lump of sorrow
in his throat. “You need more time.”
    “Yeah. I do.”
    A moment later,
her dainty hand on his shoulder urged him to turn around. “Time’s up.”
    His eyebrows
jerked down. “What?”
    “Don’t you know
that I’ve had the biggest crush on you—bordering on love—since high school?”
Her smile warmed his soul.
    “Really?”
    “Really. Now if
you’re done thinking that I’m a lesbian, I’m thinking I need to call
work to tell them I’m taking the day off and you need to cancel your lawyer
appointment.”
    He raised his
eyebrows in mock puzzlement. “But whatever would we do all day?”
    She grabbed the
front of his shirt and tugged him down onto the bed so she straddled his hips,
her mouth a scant inch from his. “I’m sure we’ll think of something. Might even
include pantyhose.”

Chapter Twelve
    The next afternoon, Mic drove the
Comet to Ester’s house. Her spirits soared higher than the wispy, white clouds.
She was surprised the wheels of the car managed to stay on the ground. She
giggled at the silly exaggeration, though her heart did feel like it could fly.
    This had to be a
fairy tale. A magical, Cinderella fairy tale where the handsome prince defies
tradition to marry the grimy garage mechanic. Her face seemed frozen into a
permanent grin. But as joyous as she felt, she tried to keep all this newfound
happiness in perspective.
    While Scott had
claimed to care about her, he never said he loved her. In spite of that
niggling detail, Mic knew there was a