Can't Help Falling In Love (Love Me Tender #1)

  Can’t Help Falling In Love

  (Love Me Tender novella)

  Teresa Ives Lilly

  For everyone who has ever loved Elvis.

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  Copyright 2016

  Written by: Teresa Ives Lilly

  Published by: Forget Me Not Romances, a division of Winged Publications

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental

  Chapter 1

  The fields along the highway were in full bloom. Bluebonnets swayed in the breeze. Desiree smiled as she turned off Interstate 10 onto Highway 87 South, headed toward her hometown.

  Thank you, Lord, for this new chapter in my life. I can hardly wait to find just the right location for my craft store. No more big city life for this girl. I just want to settle down in my hometown.

  Desiree could hardly believe she was moving back to Fredericksburg, Texas, to pursue her dream of selling the crafts she painted. Fifteen years of hard work, becoming a lawyer and working in Dallas, sure paid off. Scrimping and saving every penny she made gave her a lovely nest egg and the ability to fulfill her real dream.

  Fifteen years of following my father’s plan for life did one thing for me; it got me money. Now that Dad’s remarried and found out there’s more to life than money, he’s stopped pressuring me to practice law. I’m finally free to pursue my true calling, without guilt or debt.

  As she drove her Mazda closer to town, Desiree could feel her heart beating in anticipation. She remembered the day she made the decision to move back home. She had been under an extreme amount of pressure from one of her cases, and when it finally ended, she had spent three days in bed, trying to recover.

  During that time, her memories of the quaint town and her life before undergraduate and law school rose up in her mind. Why not go home? In fact, why not move back home and do what I’ve always dreamed of doing?

  Within a week, she’d sold her small apartment, packed her few personal belongings along with her art supplies and headed home.

  Of course, there was no home in Fredericksburg anymore. When her mother passed away a week after her high school graduation, her father sold the house and moved to Dallas.

  So, when she decided to move back to town, she knew she would need a place to stay until she was able to locate just the right building for a business and a small house. Desiree knew the perfect place. The Bluebonnet Inn was a bed and breakfast located just a few doors down from her childhood home. A sweet woman named Amanda owned it. Desiree had worked for Amanda several summers before leaving for college.

  Desiree had done an Internet search, found the Blue Bonnet Inn and made reservations. After typing in the familiar website, she’d reached the Bluebonnet Inn home page and made reservations. Because she booked online, she didn’t get a chance to speak directly to Amanda, but she did send a special message to the woman in hopes she would remember.

  Oh, well, Lord. If she didn’t get my message, I’ll be a surprise, and it will be a pleasure for me to see her after so many years.

  Desiree squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and allowed a memory to flash through her mind. It was one of her favorite memories.

  Amanda, in the big blue and white kitchen, rolling out cookie dough and singing Elvis Presley songs.

  Amanda loved Elvis. She taught Desiree the words to almost all his songs, and they’d spent that last summer together, singing and baking.

  Desiree turned onto Main Street and drove slowly, her head bobbing back and forth, wondering if any of the storefronts were available for rent. Many of the stores she remembered had changed over the years, but there were a few she could recall. Dooley’s Five and Dime was a favorite. There was nothing anyone wanted they couldn’t find in this store. There were the Christmas Store and so many others. She could hardly wait to stroll down the street and do some shopping. Of course, the restaurants in town, especially the German ones, were already calling to her.

  Desiree shook her head. Hmm, I’ll have to contact a real estate agent. I might not be able to find a place right on Main Street. A side street will work fine, as long as it’s close to Main.

  Desiree read the street names as she passed them. She couldn’t remember how many she had to pass until she reached Cherry Street. Finally, she turned on her right signal. She could feel the joy jumping inside. Her eyes hungrily scanned the street. She counted the houses as she passed them. Three doors from the corner, she eagerly pulled into the driveway of the Bluebonnet Inn. When she turned off the engine, she sat staring at the lovely Victorian house. It was painted the color of bluebonnets, and flowerbeds filled with bluebonnets were in front of the long porch.

  Desiree sighed in pleasure. Bluebonnets will be the first thing I paint. She could imagine painting lovely bluebonnets on wine glasses, salt and pepper shakers, mirrors, glass frames and many other things.

  Well, I better get in there and see Amanda. I hope she still remembers me. Desiree opened the car door and stuck a foot out.

  “Can I help you with your bags?”

  Desiree’s head shot up at the deep voice. She gulped as her eyes locked with the deep mahogany eyes of the tall, dark haired man standing beside her. However, her mouth dropped open, and she just stared. Standing outside her car door was Elvis Presley.

  “Uhm, sure. I mean, yes. Let me pop the trunk.” Desiree stood and moved to the back of the car.

  Elvis followed. As he lifted the bags out of the trunk, Desiree cocked her head and looked at him again. “Are you working for Amanda?”

  The man straightened and frowned. “No.” He walked ahead of her, stepped onto the porch and set the suitcases down. She followed and stopped at the door. She wasn’t sure how to respond to his strange and abrupt behavior.

  The man’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I’m sorry I was so short. But, I hate this situation.”

  “Situation?”

  “Yes. From your email, I assume you were expecting to see Amanda?”

  Desiree nodded. “I haven’t been back here in years, but before I moved away, we were friends. Isn’t she here?”

  The man shook his head. “I’m sorry. Amanda was my grandmother. She passed away about a month ago. My name is Holt Metcalf.”

  Desiree’s hand flew to her mouth and covered it. “I am so sorry.” Her eyes filled with tears. “She was a wonderful woman. I remember her talking about her grandson named Holt. Didn’t you usually spend a month with her each summer when you were younger?”

  The man nodded then opened the front door and stepped aside. Desiree stumbled in, through blurred vision. “Are you running the bed and breakfast now?” Her eyes scanned the familiar hallway, which had a room off each side. The main sitting room was the same as always, decorated with four high back chairs set around a mahogany coffee table. The carpet was off white with a bluebonnet pattern running through it. The walls were painted a soft green. Desiree almost sobbed when she noted [noticed] the bluebonnets Amanda had hand painted around the ceiling border.

  “In a sense. I’m here to finalize some things and close the bed and breakfast.” Holt lifted her suitcases and stepped inside. “You’ve got the Bonnet Room. If you remember, it overlooks the front of the house.”

  “Yes, it’s always been my favorite room.” She hesitated, “But you can’t mean you’re actually going to close this place down. It’s been such a special part of my life.”

  “This town is
flooded with bed and breakfasts now. With all the competition, it doesn’t make the profit I would need to keep it going. I mean, I want to, but it’s not lucrative enough.”

  “Surely there are things you could do to encourage people to stay here?”

  Holt shook his head. “All the other B&Bs in town have come up with some sort of gimmick to get customers in. They hold mystery weekends or teach classes. I’m not sure what I could do. It’s all so new. I loved coming and staying here with my grandmother over the years. She taught me to cook pies and scones, and I fell in love with baking; but I never actually had to work here until she left me the place in her will.”

  “Can I ask why you are dressed to look like Elvis?”

  Holt laughed slightly. “Sure, I’m an impersonator. That is, of Elvis. I found out a local theater was in need of an Elvis impersonator, and I thought while I was here I’d give it a go. I just finished my audition.”

  Desiree’s lips formed an O. “Your grandmother loved Elvis.”

  “How do you think I ended up as an impersonator? Every time I came to visit, she’d slick back my hair, give me a pretend microphone and make me sing Elvis songs. She taught me to love his music, and I guess I was just a natural.”

  “You do look like Elvis. A skinny version.” A small giggle escaped her lips.

  Holt frowned. “Hmm, guess I better get busy eating more peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”

  They both laughed.

  Holt led the way up the winding stairwell and placed her suitcases on the stand at the end of the bed. The room was painted the same color as the outside of the house, and the bed was covered with a hand-stitched quilt, which boasted beautiful bluebonnets.

  It was just as described on their website: A plush pillow top, king size, four-poster bed, a fireplace with intimate seating, sofa, private bath with shower and a large whirlpool tub for two. Located on the second floor of the Main House. Of course, those words did not begin to explain the loveliness and the ambience of the whole room.

  Desiree smiled as fond memories of changing the sheets and making the beds alongside Amanda flit through her mind. She turned to face Holt. “I hate for you to close this place. Can I try to come up with some ideas to help keep it going?”

  Holt gave a crooked grin. “You can make suggestions. Perhaps you’ll hit on something. I love this house and I happen to love cooking, so I’ve been enjoying running the place. Unfortunately, I’m not that great at drumming up business. Right now, the house is worth more for me to sell than to keep running.”

  Desiree sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll put on my thinking cap. You would rather keep it open though?”

  Holt nodded and left the room. Desiree was surprised at the sense of aloneness she felt once he was gone. His presence was powerful.

  Lord, I know you brought me here to help me start my own new business, but can You also help me save this old business? It just wouldn’t be Fredericksburg without the Bluebonnet Inn.

  Desiree flopped back on the bed, kicked off her shoes and snuggled down for a short nap. It took some time to actually fall asleep as her mind ran through several scenarios and ideas for saving the bed and breakfast.

  She got up, grabbed the notepad that was set on the bed stand and jotted down a few ideas. She would discuss them with Holt. Finally, she drifted off into a wonderful, relaxing sleep.

  ~

  After a rest, Desiree got up, splashed some water on her face and headed down the stairs. The house smelled like apple pie. She followed the aroma to the kitchen and peeked around the corner. No longer dressed like Elvis, Holt was standing by the center island. He had just set an apple pie on the counter to cool beside two others. He had a frilly apron tied around his waist.

  Desiree smothered a giggle. Holt’s head lifted, and he grinned shyly. “Uhm, I couldn’t find anything less feminine to wear.”

  Desiree stepped into the kitchen. “I remember Amanda wearing that same apron. It brings back fond memories. She never made pie that smelled so good. But, are you planning to serve apple pie for breakfast?”

  “No. This is for the theater where I auditioned. It’s a new dinner theater. I took a pie with me to the audition. Not only did they hire me to portray Elvis, they also agreed to serve my pie for dessert. I still need to deliver these before this evening’s performance.”

  Desiree cocked her head. “Do you make money selling apple pies?”

  Holt laughed. “Yeah, a little. Not enough to amount to anything. I’m a good baker. I could get a job in any bakery around.”

  Desiree smiled. “I’m glad for you, but does that mean that I don’t get to try a piece?”

  Holt laughed at that. “Sorry, not this pie, but I’ll make you an apple fritter for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Now that’s a deal. I love apple fritters.” Her mouth started watering at the thought.

  “Well, one must know how to cook a fritter if they’re running a bed and breakfast in a German town like Fredericksburg.”

  “That’s true. I usually get my fix at the Old German Bakery.”

  “Yes, they serve great food, but I think I can outdo their breakfast.”

  “Hmm, I guess I’ll give you a chance, but I may still eat at the Old German Bakery for lunch.”

  Holt feigned a frown then laughed. “So, what are your plans while you’re in town? Your reservation was a bit vague. From what I remember, you noted you might stay longer than the week you booked for. Since I planned to keep the place open for a few weeks, I figured I’d let you stay.”

  Desiree chewed on her bottom lip. “I didn’t say how long I want to stay. I’m hoping a week at least. I’ve decided to move to Fredericksburg, and I planned to stay here while I look around town. I want to buy a place to set up a shop and a house.”

  Holt let out a long whistle. “You’ve got a big job ahead of you. Are you looking for a shop right on Main Street? That’s going to be almost impossible to purchase.”

  Desiree nodded and sighed. “I know. I’ll probably have to start off in a small place off a side street. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “There is a woman in town named Carol Sweeney. She’s a real estate agent. I’ve spoken with her about selling this place. She seems very knowledgeable. Want me to give her a call for you?”

  Hmm, good looking, helpful and a great cook. Holt seems like the perfect man. Just my luck, I’m moving to town, and he’s probably moving out of town.

  “Sure, I’d love to talk to her. But promise you’ll hold off on selling the Bluebonnet Inn until I’ve had time to come up with some suggestions.”

  Holt shrugged. “I need to make a decision by the end of the month, but for now I’m looking forward to spending the next week cooking breakfast for you.”

  Desiree glanced into his mahogany eyes and wondered. It seemed like a genuine comment, but his tone held a tinge of flirtation.

  Holt turned back to the stove, but Desiree was sure she heard him singing, “I can’t help falling in love with you.”

  Chapter 2

  Holt placed the final boxed apple pie in the back bed of his 1969 Ford truck. He frowned at the old automobile. His eyes fell on Desiree’s Mazda.

  Now that, Lord, is a snazzy car. Something I would love to drive. Why am I stuck driving this old Ford?

  His thought didn’t last long. Holt was very aware of why he was driving an old Ford and not a Mazda. He gave up the chance of making big money years ago when he decided to pursue cooking instead of finance, which was his father’s suggestion. Holt never regretted his choice. However, because his specialties were pies, cakes and pastries, he never became the famous chef he’d always imagined he would be.

  Not a lot of high paying jobs in the pie business. He shrugged and moved to the front of his car. Just then, the Inn door opened, and Desiree stepped onto the porch.

  He waved. “Did you get a good nap?”

  She nodded.

  “Great, I’m off to deliver these pies to the theater. If you
want to come along, we can stop at the real estate office afterward.” Holt found himself holding his breath, waiting for her reply.

  “Sure, that sounds great.”

  Holt released his breath and wondered why her answer made him feel so happy.

  Seriously, Lord. I feel like a young kid going on a date.

  Holt shrugged his foolish thoughts away.

  ~

  Desiree basically bounced down the front steps and slipped to the side of Holt’s truck.

  “Sorry about the old beater. It’s not quite a Mazda.” He waved a hand indicating her automobile.

  Desiree shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. My dad gave the Mazda to me. It wasn’t my first choice. I would rather have something a bit less sporty.”

  Holt moved around the car and held the door open for Desiree. She climbed in and slid across the front seat. He closed the door and walked around to the other side.

  Holt got in the driver’s side and smiled. “I have to drive slowly so the pies don’t split.”

  “Great, it will give me time to look around a bit. I’m not sure what exactly I’m looking for. I mean, I want something quaint for my shop. I’m pretty sure almost every building in Fredericksburg is quaint.”

  Holt put the truck into gear, pulled out into the street and headed toward Main Street. As he drove, Desiree gazed out the window, hoping to see a for sale sign in a building. There were a few for lease signs, and she jotted down the addresses.

  The dinner theater was about a mile outside of the downtown area so as they drove, Desiree also noted several buildings along the way. Not quite perfect because they were further away from downtown, but perhaps more affordable. She made a note to drive up and down all the side streets and take a good look at all the houses.

  When Holt pulled into the dinner theater’s driveway and parked, Desiree opened her car door. “Can I help carry pies?”

  “Yes, thanks.” Holt opened the truck bed and handed two pies to Desiree.”

  They walked into the dinner theater’s back door together.