A Miracle for the Reserved Flyboy (Love in Sweet Bloom #11)

Chapter 3

KRISTA

Krista pulled up to the small-town gas station, her car sputtering slightly as she put it in park. She barely had her window rolled down before Mr. Munoz greeted her warmly, a smile lighting up his weathered face. "Hi, Miss Krista!" he called out, giving her a wave.

“Hi there, Mr. Munoz!" she replied, leaning out the window with a friendly grin. "How are you? Are you and the missus getting ready for the holidays? I hope to see you both at the town square celebration this year—I think I missed you last year at Beary’s surprise engagement. I didn’t see you two singing or dancing!” She reached into her cupholder and fished out a bright blue candy cane. “You like the blueberry ones, right?” She dangled it teasingly, knowing he had a soft spot for them.

He took a step closer, eyeing her with mock suspicion. “You’re just trying to butter me up for one of your shenanigans, aren’t you?” His eyes twinkled, but he added, “By the way… you wouldn’t happen to know a guy named Terry, would you?”

“Is it working?” she grinned, before tilting her head thoughtfully. “And, no, can’t say I know any Terrys. Why do you ask?”

Mr. Munoz gave a slight shrug, still eyeing her as he tapped his fingers on the pump. “Someone named Terry was here asking about you earlier. Now, do you want regular or unleaded?”

Krista laughed softly, recognizing his attempt to change the subject. She pointed toward the pump. “Regular, please… and what can I say, I’m looking for someone to play Drosselmeyer for?—”

“Next station!” he interrupted, crossing his arms and shifting his weight. But in the same breath, he reached over and plucked the blueberry candy cane from her hand, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I’m not dressing up, Krista.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Munoz!” She gave him her best pleading look, widening her eyes dramatically.

“Nope.” He shook his head firmly. “Not happening.”

“Please?” Her voice held a hint of a whine as she clasped her hands together like a prayer.

Mr. Munoz sighed, his resolve beginning to waver, but he wasn’t about to give in so easily. “All right, all right. But if I agree to dress up, then I want to know what you’ll be wearing. You didn’t think I’d just agree without knowing what I’m getting myself into, did you?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, grinning as if he’d just cornered her.

Krista hesitated, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “I’m… the Mouse Queen.”

He raised his eyebrows. “The Mouse Queen, huh? Not the Sugar Plum Fairy? Not Clara?”

“Nope.” She shook her head, her voice softening. “I don’t need the limelight. I’m happy being in the background, watching everything unfold, and just… basking in the joy around me.”

Mr. Munoz squinted at her, skepticism flickering across his face. “You’re telling me you don’t want a bit of that happiness for yourself? Why let everyone else shine while you’re always setting the stage? Is that why you’re always playing matchmaker around here, setting people up and arranging blind dates? You’re never part of it… Are you scared or something?”

Krista’s heart gave a little flutter at his words, and she cleared her throat, glancing at her watch to cover her unease. “Oh, look at the time!” she exclaimed, laughing nervously. “I’ve got a costume fitting to get to, so we’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow at four, Mr. Munoz – and you are the perfect Drosselmeyer!”

“I never agreed,” he chuckled, watching her flustered retreat.

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Munoz!” she called, pulling away with a hasty wave. She drove off with a grin, her cheeks still flushed, her fuel light flashing in protest. “Next station, here I come,” she whispered under her breath, praying that her car held out until she got there.

A few hours later, Krista was standing in front of the diner, concerned. She was looking all around, trying to figure out if she had a stalker or if she was about to be served legal papers. Three people asked her if she knew someone named Terry, Barry, and Larry – which meant that there was someone actively walking around town trying to locate her – or another woman named Krista, which she doubted because this was a very small town, and she didn’t know another Krista near here. And if that wasn’t unsettling enough, she had three hangups last night.

The moment she picked up her phone from the private number, she could hear breathing, and then someone hung up. For a prank caller, it was pretty lame. Usually, stuff like that was done by children around Halloween, complete with heavy panting, someone moaning or groaning, or even more creatively, they would do the whole ‘ Seven Days’ whisper from The Ring … which was enough to creep her out until she heard the giggling.

“I’m sure this is the same thing,” she whispered absently to herself as she stood there patiently waiting for the newest visitor to town to show up… and sighed.

That guy, Cajun’s friend, was certainly living up to his call sign. The newly-arrived Casanova was so breathtakingly handsome and suave that she was goo the moment his dark eyes met hers. That smile could ignite a forest fire, and those hands… she shivered in awareness and closed her eyes as a blush heated her cheeks.

Okay, maybe she dreamed about those hands last night and his husky voice whispering sweet nothings to her in the dark – which was utterly ridiculous, she balked silently.

“You hussy,” she uttered under her breath, shocked at her own thoughts. It was so wrong in so many ways to be thinking about kissing someone when you just met them, much less she had arranged for him to meet the sweetest person this evening for dinner. A professional matchmaker would not dare to act upon her thoughts or feelings with someone she was helping set up in their own romance, and it finally clicked in her head, causing her to slap her forehead a moment later. “Phooey! He’s Terry.”

“Actually, it’s Gary,” a voice came from behind her, causing her to whirl around in a flustered panic before she sighed dreamily – and cleared her throat, pulling herself back together.

“You shouldn’t be sneaking up on people,” she chided automatically.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were because I was clearly facing this way, and you are clearly behind me – are you not? That is sneaking, you wretched sneaker. You nearly gave me heart failure.”

“I’m so sorry, but I promise that I wasn’t sneaking.”

“We’ll agree to disagree,” she replied distractedly and looked him over. He was standing there in dark jeans with a red and green holiday sweater on that seemed to almost highlight the fact that he was built nicely. He wasn’t one of those lean, wiry guys, but he wasn’t some weird bulky beefcake either.

‘Beefcake’?

He was more like her very own cheesecake … sweet, ooey-gooey, and utterly divine in so many ways - and she could gobble him up. Her eyes widened as she tried to keep from ogling the man before her.

“Eh, hi,” she squawked nervously, looking away quickly. Oh gosh, her parents would absolutely adore him, and she’d love to kiss him to see if that sweater creates a spark between them. He was so gorgeous and was ringing all of her bells… or was that the carolers down the street?

“Hi,” he whispered, and heaven help her, was the man blushing? Goodness, was there anything better than some gorgeous man who was just… painfully sweet.

“Like maple syrup…” she breathed, staring up at him.

“Love the stuff…” he whispered back.

“Me too…”

She stood there staring at him in the lamplight for several moments before it dawned on her that she was gawking at him like some lovesick fool. This was not her date, not her man! What was she even doing? Clearing her throat, she quickly looked away and pointed at the café.

“Your date is sitting in the last booth and…”

“What’s your phone number?” Gary interrupted softly. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but I tried calling one number and ended up hanging up because I wasn’t sure.”

“That was you?”

“I had the right number?”

“That was my house line – which, I don’t know why I have it anymore because I never answer it.”

“What number do you answer?” he chuckled softly, smiling at her… and she was struck mute by that enchanting moment. His head was haloed by the lamplight, giving it a golden glow behind his brown hair and the way his dark eyes held hers was something magical.

“My cell…” she mumbled blankly.

“Could I have your cell number then, Krista?”

“Yes.”

“And what is that number?”

“Oh, I bet you want that,” she chuckled nervously, feeling distinctly flustered and warm. Was it possible to have a heatwave in December so suddenly?

“I really do,” he prompted a moment later before Krista realized she was staring at him again. Quickly, she yanked out her phone and handed it to him so he could put in his number, only to hear a cell phone ringing, before he handed it back.

“Now you can call me too.”

“That was slick,” she chuckled nervously. “I bet it would impress Susan.”

“Who’s Susan?”

“Your date for the evening. She’s thirty-nine with a ten-year-old son and…”

“I’m thirty-four.”

“You are?”

“Wait, um, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Is the age going to be a problem?”

“Not at all.”

“Whew – I guessed you were about thirty and Susan said that was fine with her so long as you were mature about things.”

“I don’t want to have dinner with Susan.”

“But she’s here,” Krista stammered, horrified. “She’s waiting for you.”

“I’m only in town five days and leaving just after Christmas to return to Afghanistan. I think we got off on the wrong foot or something because I’m not looking to go on a blind date…”

“But she’s in there waiting for you,” she reiterated, lowering her voice to a panicked hiss. “Are you really bailing out on me? I’ve lined up three dates this week alone for you and…”

“What?”

“You’ve got three dates this week already scheduled.”

“Cancel them.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because these are lonely sweet women who are looking to meet someone nice and kind – and you’re both. I have a reputation to uphold, and they know that nobody has ever bailed on me at the last second. Even druggie-Davy showed up for his date with Beary, the mechanic, and he was half-lit out of his gourd,” she blabbered, putting a hand to her forehead and trying to process this disaster. “Susan is going to kill me, and I told her I would be waiting outside for you to show up so I could introduce you to each other. I can’t believe this is happening. What am I going to do?”

“Krista…”

“This is a nightmare. No one is going to trust me again and…”

“Krista, I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“I’ll do this if it will make you feel better – but I really had no plans to go on a date while I was in town. I’m only here for a short time and well, everything seems to be going sideways since the moment I got out of the plane.”

“You know Cajun was going to set you up.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“He was trying ,” she nodded emphatically. “He doesn’t have the track record that I do, and it was bound to backfire, but you don’t need to worry about me because everyone falls in love when I take control of the situation.”

“I bet,” he murmured in this dreamy voice that made her knees tremble.

“C’mon,” she choked out nervously, grabbing his arm. “Let me introduce you to Susan.”

“Wait…” he protested faintly, but she was already dragging him through the door toward the blonde woman sitting in the last booth. “Krista, wait a second…”

“Hello, Krista… and you must be Terry.”

“Gary.”

“Oh mercy,” the woman fluttered, laughing loudly. “Silly me. I must have heard Krista wrong when she told me there was a big, strong, handsome military pilot new in town and looking for love. I hear men named Gary are born lovers and thrive at seduction. So do you? Hmm?”

“She told you that?”

Gary’s face was a mask of disbelief as he stared at her, his brow creased in confusion. Krista had never said anything about lovers or seduction; that was all Susan’s doing. She was the one leaning in, flashing her practiced smile, clearly entranced by Gary just like Krista was. But Krista couldn’t watch this play out, not when every detail felt like a twist of the knife. She’d always imagined the idea of people falling in love with a smile or laugh, but picturing Gary’s passion aimed at someone else—someone like Susan—felt almost sickening.

And it wasn’t that Susan wasn’t beautiful; she was. Krista’s chest ached at the realization of how strongly she felt. Why was it so repulsive, this idea of Gary with her?

“See? Instant chemistry,” Krista said with a strained smile, her heart breaking as she watched Susan slide closer to Gary. “Y’all have fun, and we’ll catch up tomorrow. I’ll call you around ten to go over the plans.”

“Wait, Krista…” Gary called after her, but Krista was already turning away, her mind set.

Susan had latched onto his arm, leaning against him as if it was already hers, her eyes sparkling up at him. But Gary’s gaze lingered on Krista, dark and questioning. Standing there, watching the man she cared about slowly fall into someone else’s orbit, was not an option. Before her emotions could betray her, Krista walked away quickly, her breath ragged as she tried to push down the tears that threatened to spill over.

As she reached the parking lot, a voice broke through her thoughts.

“Krista?”

“Hey, Beary,” she mumbled, managing a weak smile. Holly—affectionately called Beary—was her closest friend, a warm and giving soul. They’d been thick as thieves since they were kids, “two little piglets in mud,” as Beary liked to say with a laugh. But they’d always respected each other’s boundaries; with Beary, that meant never gossiping about Cade, her quiet firefighter husband with dreams of being the town’s fire chief someday.

“What’re you doing out here? I thought you had practice tonight,” Beary asked, watching her friend closely.

“We ended early, and I picked up my costume,” Krista replied.

Beary looked her over. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me—you look like someone smeared grease all over your door handle.”

Krista let out a faint laugh. Beary, the town’s best mechanic, could turn anything into a car analogy.

“Come on, spill it,” Beary urged.

Krista sighed, glancing down the empty street. “Have you ever imagined something so vividly you could taste it, only to realize it was never meant to be?”

“Uh, maybe narrow that down a little?”

Krista shook her head. “It’s really nothing. Just feeling a bit blue. I’m heading home to drown my sorrows in sugar and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas .”

“Oh, is that on tonight?”

“Streaming,” Krista replied with a small grin.

Beary’s eyes softened. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Krista forced a bright smile. “I’m fine, really. Holidays can be tough, you know?”

“I hear that,” Beary murmured. “I miss my dad like crazy. But you’ve got both your parents, and…”

“Exactly,” Krista cut in, her smile growing overly cheerful, as if to stamp out any concern. “Just a little holiday funk. Sugar’s all I need to perk up.”

“If you’re sure…” Beary replied, unconvinced.

“I am,” Krista chuckled, swinging her arm in a mock-cheery way. “If I need something, you know I’ll come bug you.”

“I do know you,” Beary said, studying her friend’s forced energy. “That’s why I’m worried.”

“Bah, don’t be. I’m fine.”