Free Fall Into His Kiss by Jenny Schwartz Page A

white cotton shirt that attracted him. Jeans suited her.
    He could delude himself that he’d have thought of something intelligent to say to her if only, in standing close to her to pick up the tuna, he hadn’t inhaled her scent.
    She looked classy and big city confident, but she smelled of sweet violets.
    The incongruity had rocked his world and made him uncharacteristically clumsy.
    He winced. Yeah, knocking her over hadn’t been his finest moment.
    She’d definitely hurt her elbow. She probably considered him a wild man of the mountain and would cross the street rather than encounter him again.
    Disgusted with himself, he headed for the frozen foods section and meals-for-one.
     
     
    Some things never change, and that was a good thing.
    “Come here, girl, and give me a hug.”
    Obedient to the smiling command, Rachel walked around the checkout counter and hugged Mabel. The older woman had worked at the supermarket for as long as Rachel could remember, and looked set to do so forever. Mabel adored being at the center of things, and the supermarket gave her a chance to pick up all the latest gossip. Not that Mabel was ever unkind. She was simply interested in people.
    Rachel returned Mabel’s cuddly hug before they got down to the business of ringing up her purchases and asking after family.
    Mid-way through the conversation, and fortunately before Mabel could ask the reason for Rachel’s reluctant homecoming, someone queued behind her at the only open checkout.
    “Hi, Wyatt.” Mabel positively beamed.
    Rachel turned and found herself staring at her tuna assailant.
    “Hi, Mabel.” But Wyatt looked at Rachel.
    “How’s your house going?” Mabel asked. “Are you ready for the big photo shoot?”
    “No.”
    An unexpected grin turned up the corners of Rachel’s mouth. She could feel the smile threatening. If Wyatt thought monosyllabic answers would deter Mabel, he was out of luck.
    He stood solid, but looked hunted.
    “You should ask Rachel for help,” Mabel said.
    Rachel’s head shot around to stare at her. “What?”
    “Your aunt Lucy said you’ve lost your fancy New York job. So you have time to help Wyatt.”
    Rachel cringed. So much for hoping Mabel didn’t know her story. Small towns, you had to love them—and grit your teeth as you smiled. “I’m sure…uh…Wyatt doesn’t need my help.”
    “I do.”
    “You…what?” She’d have whiplash at the rate she was spinning around. “You don’t even know me.”
    Mabel fixed that. “Wyatt, this here is Rachel Cruft, Alan’s granddaughter. Rachel, Wyatt Allenjo. He moved to town three—”
    “Four.”
    “Four years ago.” Mabel took the correction in her stride. “He’s a carpenter.”
    Rachel handed over money to pay her bill.
    “Actually, I’m a sculptor. I started out as a carpenter, worked construction with my stepdad.”
    “I’m sure you’re a nice guy.” Rachel put her change away and picked up her shopping bags.
    “Stop right there, missy,” Mabel said. “This is not just about Wyatt and his big break. If he becomes famous, the whole town could benefit from tourism.”
    Panic flitted across Wyatt’s stoic expression. Evidently, fame scared him more than it appealed.
    Rachel halted. She watched Mabel deftly scanning Wyatt’s shopping: apples, cereal, milk, ready meals.
    “Who is the photo shoot for?”
    Wyatt named a hugely famous house style magazine.
    Rachel blinked. “Really?”
    “My agent organized it. Mikal’s cut up he can’t be here. Broke his leg water skiing.” Wyatt ducked his head. “I do need some help presenting the house. Mikal had me send photos of how it is now and he says it’s too soulless. He says people want to see the house of…” He grimaced. “An artist and woodsman.”
    “Manly, comfortable, but styled,” Rachel said.
    Mabel beamed at her. “That’s the ticket.” She pushed Wyatt’s change at him. “Now, you take Rachel for coffee and explain the whole thing to her. Maybe buy her