“So, what do you think?” Garreth asked, his warmth and proximity creating a permanent smile on Maybelle’s face. He nodded at a passing Edward, whom she’d just spent the past twenty minutes chatting and laughing with while they ate a barbeque lunch out on a wide and gorgeous terrace. Edward was her type of guy—young, loud, and hilarious. Too bad it was all an act, and he was out of her age zone.
“You really think it’ll be him?” she said with a frown. “He’s been the best part of this whole thing.”
Garreth chuckled, placing a nervous hand on her shoulder. Her heart buzzed and beat as he gave her a shy grin and slowly spun her to look at Ms. Vancouver and Will eating in a couple of chaise loungers on the corner of the large terrace. His voice was low and close in her ear, creating havoc on her pulse. She tried not to get too excited; Garreth had yet to display any sort of interest outside of the mystery, and she didn’t want to set herself up for disappointment like she had so many times before.
“There’s our murderer,” he whispered. She caught his eye and raised a brow.
“The old lady?” she blurted, and he quickly gave her a look that said to quiet down. “Don’t ya think that’s a bit obvious?”
He let out a laugh and shook his head. “No, not her—”
A loud squeal cut through nearly everyone’s conversations, and Maybelle grinned, amused that she wasn’t the only loudmouth at the place. One of the girls who’d floated around Garreth the night before now looked pretty darn comfy with Dave, touching his arm and laughing out loud at whatever he said. It was nice to see, even with jealousy and worry poking at the back of her mind, telling her that Cupid had pointed his arrow elsewhere.
Garreth’s hand left her shoulder, a cold breeze replacing his warm touch. He cleared his throat and his mouth turned up in that adorably nervous grin. “Uh… you got… um…” He lifted his thumb, his hand shaking something fierce before swiping away whatever residue had been on her chin. Blood rushed through her veins, and she let out a piercing laugh.
“Can’t take me anywhere, I s’pose.”
He shrugged. “Or maybe just use that napkin I offered you earlier.”
“Was that a joke?” She grinned, elated. “Your first joke! I’m so proud!”
She was teasing, and she loved the bashful look on his face, painting his tan skin red. His brilliantly white teeth shined as bright as the sun through his grin, and he scratched at an itch Maybelle wasn’t positive was actually there. “I’m not sure it was all that funny.”
She waved him off and snagged two drinks from a passing tray, then handed one over. “To Garreth slowly creeping out of his shell.”
He shook his head, amusement dancing in his chocolate eyes, and tipped his drink back. The lemon wedge on the edge of the glass plopped onto his eye and they both had a good laugh.
“Hey, Garreth!” a brunette beauty called from across the terrace. Garreth plopped the lemon wedge onto the ice in his drink, raising a polite brow at the girl. She gestured to Will who was standing next to her. “He’s a ‘guest,’” she said, air quotes and all. Maybelle furrowed her brow, sharing a look with her brother that was utterly confused.
“That’s our murderer,” Garreth whispered, his gaze on Will. Maybelle pressed her lips together, but it didn’t stop her giggles.
“That’s my brother, there.”
Garreth’s mouth dropped open, and he jerked back. “You’re acting in this, too?”
Maybelle wasn’t sure if he was joking or serious; his face had that perma-nervous/adorable energy, but when his eyes broke down in amusement, her heart leapt at the fact that he was teasing her. This shy, quiet, and handsome man was teasing her, and she liked it more than she could express.
“A’right, funny guy,” she said, playfully pushing his shoulder, surprised by the hard muscle that lay hidden underneath his shirt, “who’s that?”
“Alexis?” he asked, nodding at the brunette who was making her way over to Ms. Vancouver with a notepad and pen poised. “She’s staying here with that group from Ohio.” He let out a small chuckle. “You think my research was thorough; you should check out hers.”
Maybelle wet her lips, trying hard not to let the green monster wreak havoc in her gut. “Are you two working on the mystery together?”
“A little.” His brows pulled in. “I thought… well, you and I have been, too, right?”
“Right.” Her voice was firm, but her insecurities started rushing into her mind. Sure, he’d spent a good portion of lunch with her, and they’d sat together at dinner the night before, but she wasn’t sure if there were sparks. Perhaps miniature sparks she was too afraid to hope for any meaning in. It felt… well, she wasn’t sure how it felt yet. She was attracted to Garreth, and she loved watching his shyness and nerves around her. They were almost boyish, innocent, like high school crush—possibilities and fantasies thrived when she was around him.
But was that one-sided, just as so many other instances had been?
“You know who we should talk to,” Garreth said, breaking her from her thoughts. “Michael.”
She swallowed hard. “I haven’t seen him.”
“Me neither.” He waggled his brows. “Maybe that’s a huge clue in itself.”
She nodded, losing interest in the mystery, but unsure of how to segue into a conversation about him, what he’s looking for, if he’s even single… Her eyes fell to his ringless left hand, but that didn’t always confirm single status.
“Oh, there’s James,” she said, pointing across the terrace at the only other actor they hadn’t interrogated. “You wanna jump in there before he disappears?”
Garreth set his glass down then took two fingers, pointed at his own eyes then at her. She giggled at his nerdy signal and tilted her head as he walked away, checking out every delectable angle of that man.
Tapping her nails against her glass, she weaved through a few guests, looking for her brother. She found him hunched over in the corner with Winter, their heads close together, and his eyes showing more interest in what she was saying than Maybelle had seen him give anyone, and that included when he met his mentor, Chef Duffy.
“Well, what do we have here…” she mused, taking a sip of her drink. Will would be the last guy to admit that something—or someone—had changed his mind about Frostville, but Maybelle was sure that by the end of their stay, he wouldn’t be waiting in the car, honking for her to get out of the mansion so they could get home.
She turned on her heel, trekking to the bar. Garreth and Alexis were both now quizzing James, and Maybelle couldn’t help but frown. She knew she had no right to be jealous, no right to feel threatened, but after years of rejection, it seemed second nature to put up that wall of defense. Alexis was beautiful, young, and equally enthused about solving the mystery. If Garreth wised up to the way she looked at him after every note she jotted down in her notepad, he’d most likely spend the rest of his stay in her company. Maybelle wasn’t exactly the analytical type, much rather preferring to go with the flow. She smiled through uncomfortable and awkward situations and made a fool of herself often with little embarrassment. She was voluptuous and loud, older and her laugh lines gave proof of her age. With so many men turning her away, how could the Thor-look-alike ever think of her as anything other than an entertaining buddy?
Her spirits took a dive, and she placed her drink on the bar and slumped onto a stool, debating on going back to her room and giving herself a pep talk.
A light brush touched her elbow. “Hey.” Michael’s deep voice lifted her heart the tiniest bit. When she met his eyes, he nodded for her to follow him. “I want to show you something.”
With one more glance at Alexis and Garreth, she pushed from the stool and took Michael’s waiting hand.