Have Baby, Need Beau. Rita Herron

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      The envelope rustled in Mimi’s hands as she twisted them together. “Good, I have plans later on tonight.”

      A date? Had Mimi already recovered from Joey and moved on to someone else? Or was she planning to visit Joey in prison?

      The thought irked him, although he didn’t know why.

      The car was growing warm, and he saw that she’d relaxed, so he adjusted the heat, faintly aware of the exotic scent of her perfume. With the windshield fogged, the blizzard whirling around them and some mellow oldie playing on the radio, the interior of the car suddenly seemed way too intimate.

      He yanked at his tie, loosening the knot at his neck. “What is that perfume you’re wearing?”

      Mimi smiled, obviously thinking he liked the strong scent. “Passion Point. You’re supposed to dab it on your…”

      He arched a brow.

      “Well, you know. All your erogenous zones.”

      Which must have been her whole body.

      Seth swung his gaze back to the road, the blur of imagined fantasies nearly blinding him to the white haze in front of him.

      The radio announcer bleeped in. “Folks, we’re in the midst of a full-fledged winter storm alert. Already some major expressways have been closed for safety reasons. We’re advising you to stay off them. If you’re a traveler, seek shelter in a hotel until morning when snowplows can clear the roads.” He finished by listing areas suffering from downed power lines and trees.

      “I guess we’d better try to find a hotel,” he said.

      Mimi narrowed her eyes as if spending the night at the same hotel with him was a horrendous imposition.

      Well, he wasn’t too happy about it, either, but he was too much of a gentlemen to say so. After all, he had an important date tonight, too.

      Of course, his date was a copy of Strategies for Coping with Divorce in the Single-Family Home, but he didn’t have to tell her that.

      Mimi avoided looking at Seth, uneasy about the hazardous conditions, but Hannah had always claimed Seth was completely reliable. Not mind-boggling in the love department, but dependable. Come to think of it, Hannah had never mentioned that she’d slept with Seth, but Mimi had assumed they had. She’d also assumed Hannah hadn’t talked about their love life because it had been lacking in umph. Seth probably had to consult his pocket calendar to schedule sex. Seth never did anything impetuous, could be depended on to keep a cool head—exactly what she needed when surrounded by a raging blizzard. Someone who wasn’t driven by hormones, as Joey had been.

      Feeling calmer, she opened the letter and smiled at her Grammy’s loopy handwriting. She could almost hear her grandmother’s Southern drawl…

      My spunky little Mimi,

      You have always been special to me because you were the middle child, the one who tagged along to her older sister’s recitals, the one who wore hand-me-downs and rolled with the punches whenever there were problems. You never ran from a fight, never fussed when your dad was too busy working to come home at night, never complained that you never got anything first. You have a heart of gold, an infectious smile, and you’re a sucker for strays. You made us laugh when we thought there might never be laughter in the house again.

      You’re feisty and witty, creative and determined, but independent to a fault. You know how to have fun in life and laugh at your problems. You are a survivor. I hope you learn to trust in others, to take comfort, as well as offer it.

      I wish for you happiness and true love, and a man who will be your equal and give you all the joy a partner can give.

      Love you always,

       Grammy Rose

      Mimi blinked back tears, her heart contracting. She’d always been the misfit child, the one who got in trouble. Hannah had been the responsible, studious one, the one everyone admired.

      “What’s wrong?” Seth asked.

      Perceptive shrink, wasn’t he? “Nothing,” Mimi said, unable to voice how much the letter meant to her.

      “Then why are you crying?”

      “I’m not.”

      Seth shook his head as if irritated. “Why do women always do that?”

      “Do what?”

      “Get angry or upset, then claim nothing’s wrong when a guy expresses concern.”

      “Maybe because it’s none of your business.”

      Seth’s mouth tightened. “Sorry. I was only trying to be nice.”

      “Or trying to analyze me, sneaky shrink-style.”

      He shot her a dark look. “I’m not a sneaky anything. Why are you so paranoid about psychiatrists, anyway?”

      “There you go analyzing again. Must be a habit.”

      “I’m not analyzing you, Mimi. Like I said, I was only trying to be your friend.”

      Mimi shrugged. “Sorry. I guess I took it the wrong way. Must be that whole Mars-Venus thing.”

      “I guess.” A small smile tugged at Seth’s mouth. “There’s a hotel over there. I’m going to stop.”

      “I’ll wait in the car.” Mimi gestured toward her bridesmaid’s dress.

      “Right. It might look a little odd.”

      Several cars filled the lot as Mimi toyed with the letter, rereading the heartfelt words while she waited.

      Seth returned with a scowl on his face. “No rooms.”

      Mimi patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Seth, we’ll find something.”

      His blue eyes flickered with doubt, but Mimi believed in the value of optimism. He continued down the winding mountain. She searched for a music station on the radio, but every station focused on the weather, only adding to the mounting tension.

      Thirty minutes later, Mimi’s optimism had faded along with the visibility and any hope the blizzard would let up. Seth had tried a small motor lodge, a bed-and-breakfast and one place with a purple door and orange lights that Mimi had negated on sight—it looked a little seedy and was in a bad section of town. Finally they veered toward the apple houses near Ellijay. Seth clenched his jaw so tight she expected to hear bone grinding any minute. A few miles later, Mimi spotted a large well-known hotel, the Magnolia Manor.

      “There have to be rooms here,” she said, pointing to the long drive.

      “Let’s hope. I’m low on gas now and the highway’s closed.” Seth steered the car up the drive at a turtle’s pace and parked in front of the sprawling hotel. He returned minutes later with a tight expression on his face.

      “Don’t tell me this big place doesn’t have any rooms.”

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