Free Guardian of the Fountain by Jennifer Bryce

talks
about how this man loves every part of his love, and she is the whole reason
for his existence.”
           Wouldn’t it be lovely to be cared for like
that? I wonder what that would be like.
           “Wow, but
that happens every day,” Chrissie said sarcastically.
           “You sound
cynical.”
           “Experience
has taught me to be cynical.” Chrissie smiled brightly. “But you are a stranger
who doesn’t need to hear my sad sob story. Are we dancing the tango?”
           “Yes.” The
stranger dipped Chrissie back. “And you are dancing it very well.”
           “I took
ballroom dancing for a semester in college. I wish I knew it better, but we
only covered it for two weeks.”
           “Well, all
you need in your step is passion.” His smoldering stare caused Chrissie to stop
breathing for a second. She was mesmerized by his gaze, causing her to linger
in the depth of his eyes.  
           Snap out of it! You can’t go ga-ga for some
strange dude you just met on the street. Trey was suave too.
           “Ha, ha.
What is passion?” Chrissie meant her response to be funny, but it came out
snarky instead.
           “You just
haven’t found the right man to show it to you,” stranger-dude smiled.
           Chrissie
gulped down a huge ball of air stuck in her throat. “So, do you live around
here?”
           “Yes.”
           Chrissie
expected him to expound, but he didn’t. The music ended.
             The handsome stranger walked away and
waved. “Thank you for the dance, Chrissie.”
           I didn’t give him my name …
    “Wait!
How do you know my name?”
           He only
paused to yell back over the music, “Arturo told me.”
           Was she
still dreaming, or was this an actual memory? It felt so real, and in the
present. The time turned to day. Chrissie stopped by Arturo’s produce stand on
her way to the clinic the next morning. He was busy arranging mangoes in a
basket.
           “Arturo?”
           “Yes, mija?”
Arturo smiled his best winning smile.
           “So, Arturo,
I danced with this gorgeous man last night who said you had given him my name.
Who was he?” Chrissie picked up a banana and put it into her bag.
           “Gorgeous?
You thought he was very good-looking, no?”
           “Yes . . .
No. I mean, don’t change the subject. Who is he?” She wasn’t about to let Arturo
weasel his way out of this one. The dear friend had won a spot in her heart the
first month she came to the quiet little Spanish town, but he wasn’t off the
hook.
           “Brant
Winston.” Arturo went back to arranging his produce in orderly baskets, being
careful not to bruise the sun-ripened fruit. “Now get to work and stop
bothering this old man.” Under the shade of Arturo’s straw hat, Chrissie could
see a faint smile.
           Halfway
down the block, Marla waited for Chrissie. “Hey, you man-eater.”
           “Stop it. I
am not.”
           “Okay,
maybe you’re not. But you did dance with that hunky stalker. He could stalk my
as . . .”
           “Don’t say
it. You know how I feel about curse words.” Chrissie placed her hands on her
hips and began tapping her foot. “My mom always told me curse words were
unattractive. How do you expect to catch your classy man with a mouth of a
sailor?”    
    “All right,
Miss Goodie Goodie. But I did dig up some dirt on Brant Winston.”
           “So you know
his name too? Why am I the only one who doesn’t know about Mr. GQ?”
           “Just found
it out this morning. Our next-door neighbor is a gossip, and she gave me all
the goods on the guy.” Marla dug into her purse for a stick of gum and came up
empty handed. “It helps to have connections.” She shrugged.
           “Spill it,”
Chrissie demanded.
           “On one
condition. Find out if he