Well, Im here. Home in White Hills. For a little while, anyway. With the cell phone clapped to her ear, she pushed on black Manolo Blahnik shoes, then stuffed a bill in her Kate Spade purse.
But no ones there! You know Violet closed up the house for the whole winter. And that Im off with Pete and the boys.
As much as Daisy missed her sister, she shot another glance at her watch and kept hustling, grabbing a hair-brush, then lipstick. Like its my fault the familys gallivanting all over the place? For that matter, youre the only one in the family whos totally settled in White Hills, but instead of being around with your new husband and kids-
And dogs. And my father-in-law.
Yeah. You sure know how to do a honeymoon, kid.
Quit distracting me, Camille chided. The last I knew you were still in France. Violet and I both knew there was something wrong with Jean-Luc, something serious, but you never once told us what was going on. The next thing I know, I get the message that you have a new cell phone number and youre back in the U.S. and your last name is suddenly Campbell again.
Yup, Daisy said, which seemed to cover everything.
You got a divorce?
She couldnt answer that question quite so lightly. Yes. And Ill tell you about it. And Violet. But right now Im rushed-just please dont say anything to Mom and Dad until Ive had the chance to tell you two completely whats going on first, all right?
No, its not all right. First I want to know-
Camille, I cant talk now, honestly. I swear Im not evading a conversation. Im just plain short on time. And I need more than two seconds to explain whats been happening.
Okay, but-
Daisy hung up. It was already ten minutes after seven. Being a few minutes late wasnt criminal, but shed asked Teague to meet her outside-which meant he was stuck out there on a frigid-cold night. She tugged on a jacket, locked the back door and charged down the stairs.
Shed carefully thought through everything she was wearing, from the St. Johns sweater and slacks to using the last of her hoarded Cle Peau makeup. Daisy couldnt imagine Teague remotely caring about designer labels-and right now, he had no idea that all these silly, impractical clothes were all she owned. Shed played the pricey look up, rather than down, to help create a distance between them. She didnt want him to think of her as normal, as conceivably staying in White Hills, or that there was any potential between them.
That was the theory. But shed also hoped to have more time to plan how to handle this meeting, and instead felt rushed inside and out.
The bottom door opened into the vestibule of the Marble Bridge Café-and then one more door led her out to the street, where a tall, dark-haired man in a sheepskin jacket stomping his feet to keep warm stood. He spun around when he heard the door, then stopped dead when he saw her.
The streetlamp glowed on his ruddy cheeks and snow-dusted hair, but he looked at her with a fierce glow in his eyes. A blister-cold night suddenly warmed. A lonely heart was temptedor, Daisy corrected herself, a lonely heart would have been tempted by the promise in those wonderful, sexy, warm eyes if she didnt know better.
She wasnt going to repeat the same mistakes. She couldnt possibly have fallen in love at first sight-or first night-not the kind of love that could conceivably work. It didnt matter what her heart told her. Her heart had been dead wrong before.
You came from inside the café? It looked all closed up and locked down to me. I never thought Harry kept it open past the afternoon hours, he said in confusion.
Youre right, the cafés closed. Im living in the apartment above it.
He glanced up. I didnt even realize there was an apartment up there. He opened his mouth as if intending to question her further, but then he looked at her again. Really looked. She had the shivery feeling he would like to swallow her up, because his gaze seemed like a vacuum that sucked in every tiny detail and kept it. You look terrific.
Why, thank you, kind sir.
Only, you look too darn terrific for any restaurant this town can offer.
Trust me, she said wryly, you can afford me.
She recognized where he was driving-McCutcheons, the best restaurant in White Hills-and diverted him to a fast-food burger place instead. He looked tired, her one-time lover. Fit and full of hell and more than capable of causing her a great deal of trouble, but still, tired.
Your heads okay? All recovered from that major bump? she asked him a few minutes later-while stealing another of his French fries. It was the first time shed seen him in clothes, she realized. He hadnt been naked the whole time during the blizzard, but when shed first found him knocked out, hed been in work duds. Tonight he wore dark cords and a dark sweater with a Nordic pattern. Nothing fancy, still practical, but good clothes that looked more than good on him.
Daisy couldnt name a single item in her wardrobe that qualified as practical, but that didnt mean she couldnt admire someone with traits she didnt have.
Actually, the sheriff insisted I go to a doctor, and the doctor decided Id had a concussion. Like this was meaningful, to have a new definition for a headache.
And the ankle?
Aw, that. Not worth mentioning. Ive still got it taped, but thats just because Im a sissy.
Excuse me. She stood up, her hand slapped over her heart. We need to broadcast to greater America that a man in the universe just admitted he was a sissy.
He just grinned-and threw a French fry at her.
So it was sprained, huh?
Just a little sprain.
Even little sprains hurt like a bear.
You know?
She nodded. I fell off a boat one time, hit an ankle. It was one of my more graceful moves.
Did someone get a photograph? Because I dont believe this story about you not being graceful.
She stopped dipping fries in the ketchup. She knew charm. All too well. But there wasnt charm in his voice, only honesty, and that gentle, honest compliment put an itch in her heart.
Thats all it was, though.
An itch.
The itch was bad. Downright unignorable and unforgettable-but still, no worse than a mosquito bite. She could get past it. What she wasnt sure she could cope with was getting through a more serious conversation, but she sucked in a breath for courage and determined to try. Teague, you have to be wondering what I was doing in the café-
Actually, I was hoping youd help me with my swatch problem.
Daisy hesitated. Shed thought his swatch question was a joke-Teagues making up an excuse to have dinner with her. Shed been positive that if he found her again, hed ask for an explanation of why shed disappeared after the blizzard and made no effort to contact him.
Daisy hesitated. Shed thought his swatch question was a joke-Teagues making up an excuse to have dinner with her. Shed been positive that if he found her again, hed ask for an explanation of why shed disappeared after the blizzard and made no effort to contact him.
The truth was, shed wanted to. Fiercely. Shed had to work on it every day, giving herself emotional pep talks, exercising her hard heart muscle-or trying to develop one. She was in no position to take on any guy, much less one in White Hills. Shed fooled herself before, about thinking a man was right for her. She shouldnt make too much of a one-night encounter. It was the blizzard. A wild moment in time. But thats all.
So shed told herself.
But looking at him now, laughing with him over ketchup and burgers and fries, she knew why shed really hidden away. Shed been afraid to see him again. Afraid shed feel like this. Happy. Lifted up. Her hormones all asizzle and her pulse thumping like a puppys tail, just to be with him. The swatch? she echoed.
Yeah. Would you mind coming with me? Seeing the Cochran house, the project Im working on?
Come with you? she parroted blankly.
Its in town. Just three blocks over. I just want to ask your advice. We could be in and out in ten minutes.
She opened her mouth to say no, but that just seemed cowardly and dumb. What possible harm could it do to spend a few more minutes together, especially at some kind of torn-up construction site? Okay, she said.
Six
Teague railroaded her to the front porch of the Cochran house before she could balk-although she was thinking about it. Teague, we cant just walk into someones place.
Were not going to just walk in. He rapped hard on the door, rang the bell, then stuck in a key and yelled out a yoo-hoo.
Teague-
They know I come in at all hours. They want to get the job done, so they gave me a key. Just hold up for a second so I can tell them youre with me this time.
He bolted up a staircase before she could respond. So she stood there, feeling ill-at-ease in a strangers house-even if she did know the Cochran name from her childhood-and more restless than a wet cat in a downpour.
Teague was being easy to be with. Too easy. He hadnt asked why she was living over the café. Why she hadnt contacted him after the blizzard. Surely he was going to ask some difficult questions sooner or later?
He bounded back down the stairs, carrying his jacket this time and making a motion for her to hand over hers. Theyre home. Theyre happy were here, and theyre even happier that I brought someone to give me some advice.
Youre talking about the swatch problem advice?
Yeah. Come on, so you can see what Im doing. He led her through a hall to the back of the stone two-story house. Obviously, the family was living upstairs for now, because the downstairs was too chewed-up to function in. But Daisy sucked in a breath when she saw what hed been up to.
Even before he switched on a glaring overhead light, she saw the slate walls and white marble fireplace and the shiny dark tiles. It wasnt like any place shed seen-not corny country, not citified either, but wonderfully unique without being in-your-face elegant.
They had beige carpeting in here before. Two cramped little rooms. The fireplace was in the same spot, but it was brick, kind of a dirty red color. It seemed to make good sense to use Vermont white marble, then contrast it with slate-you like?