It wasnt possible-not from his sons description-to have a clue what Camille might have done to her appearance. Still, Pete didnt even consider stopping over before seven.
In fact, at fifteen minutes to seven, hed showered and shaved and put on fresh clothes-but he still wasnt sure if he was going over there. The issue was courage. Hed been avoiding her. Not that they hadnt regularly seen each other over the last week; hed helped her every single day with the lavender. But with the boys out of school, it had been so easy to travel over there as a trio. He hadnt seen her alone once.
Sometimes a guy was strong enough to take a knife in the gut and some days he just couldnt face it.
Still, he climbed in the truck at precisely five minutes to seven. The hound clearly put a line in the sand. And his boys-and their grandfather-werent about to let him get out of dinner besides. Since they watched him from the window, it wasnt as if he could turn the truck toward Timbuktu. He had to turn toward her place. And since her cottage was essentially next door, he couldnt drag out the ride to any longer than a minute and a half.
When he parked at the cottage, evening sunlight was shivering through the trees in soft yellow patches. Her porch was shady and cool-and damned quiet. The dog and cat were both slumbering on the top step. Neither budged to make room for him to pass, although the cat at least opened her eyes.
Cam?
He rapped once on the door, not quite able to see through the screen. But then she opened it. And his heart stopped.
Gone was the waif whod come home with her heart broken. The woman in the doorway was barefoot, with long sun-kissed legs. She was wearing a scarlet scoop of a dress, held up with a couple of promises-the straps didnt seem more substantial than that-and it sure didnt appear that she was wearing anything underneath it. Her shoulders were as bare as her legs, smooth, golden, the simple fabric sculpting the swell of her breasts and curve of her hips.
Weeks ago, she hadnt had that swell, those curves. Weeks ago, shed been all bones, all eyes. The darned woman was still all eyes, but now all that ghastly chopped-off hair was wisping around her cheeks. Her lips were red as sin, her posture sassy. She lookedsexy. She lookedsplendiferous. She looked like she could make any man drool without half trying, and shed made him drool even when shed been a waif.
Weeks ago, she hadnt had that swell, those curves. Weeks ago, shed been all bones, all eyes. The darned woman was still all eyes, but now all that ghastly chopped-off hair was wisping around her cheeks. Her lips were red as sin, her posture sassy. She lookedsexy. She lookedsplendiferous. She looked like she could make any man drool without half trying, and shed made him drool even when shed been a waif.
Youre late, she said.
I know. Im sorry. He handed her a bottle of wine. The twins and their grandfather had explained that you didnt go to dinner with a woman without wine. Theyd moved him to speechlessness-that the boys would conceivably think they could educate him about courtly manners. The same boys who couldnt stand women. The same boys who never wanted a woman in their lives for the rest of their lives. Its probably the wrong wine, he said.
There is no wrong wine. Now before you say anything about the bloodhound-
He loved dogs, all dogs, any dogs. But just then, he probably couldnt tell a poodle from a pony.
The only thing on his mind was her, and his gaze honed on her face as if irrevocably glued there. He just couldnt look away. Shed changed so much-and changed exactly in the ways hed hoped. She was visibly on the other side of pain now. Healing, if not fully healed. Spirited again. Full of hell again. Ready for life again.
Thats what he wanted for her.
Pete? She came closer and peered up at him, as if to make sure shed gotten his attention. I realize that Hortense was a bit of a surprise.
It was hard to understand why his heart hurt so much. It was justwhen shed been a waif, shed needed him. And then by accident he glanced past her. Past the open door, through the kitchen, where her back door opened onto her shady back lawn. He couldnt see that much, but pretty clearly there were candles lit on a table out there. A tablecloth. Fancy silver. He looked at her in confusion.
Whats going on?
Dinner. In fact, lets get started, and then Ill explain about the dog. She ushered him through the house, then out to the table, where she motioned to the chair across from her. She poured the wine and started serving, but her vulnerable eyes kept darting to him. Her hands definitely werent as steady as the sassy dress and makeup implied-and neither was her voice.
I was walking in the lavender yesterday. It was a real turning point for me. Every time I went out there before, there was a ton of work to do. But not now. Now theres nothing else to do but let it grow. The fields still a long way from perfect, but the mulch, the pruning, brought it back to life. The buds are almost ready to burst. The scent and the color-its not there yet, but its so close. My sisters going to have her hands full with the harvest.
He saw the food. The delicate salad. The roast with a scent to die for. And he wanted to gulp down the wine, but at her last comment, he could barely remember how to breathe. Youre not planning on being here for the harvest yourself?
No. Really, the lavender is Violets project. Its not mine to make decisions about. And I think, finally, that its way past time I started making decisions about my own life again. It took forever, I know. Ive been lollygagging here like a bag lady.
Shut up, Cam. You were never like that.
Close. Maybe he wasnt eating, but she was shoveling it in. What I kept thinking, though, while I was walking through the field was how different lavender is than roses. Roses have to be pampered, tended, fed, cared for. All we had to do with the lavender was give it some lousy soil, trim it up, mulch it a little, and it zoomed back from the dead. When it comes down to it, lavender only thrives on tough love. But you know all about that, didnt you, MacDougal?
This chitchat was real nice, but Pete had had all he could take. Where exactly do you plan on being after this? he asked sharply.
She lifted a finger, indicating that she needed a second to finish chewing, then gulped a bit of wine. With you.
I beg your pardon?
She frowned, noticing that hed barely touched her food. You dont like my French stew?
Yes, yes-
Then eat, Pete.
What did you just say?
Oh. About being with you? Her eyebrows rose impishly. I thought you guessed my intentionswhen I gave you the bloodhound. When I asked you to dinner.
Okay. He figured out the obvious-that he couldnt rush her; she needed to say things in her own way, on her own time. But he couldnt eat, now that shed brought up leaving. It didnt matter how many times hed mentally told himself that shed only come home to heal and would leave after that. There was still a lump in his throat the size of a mountain. So he just folded his arms on the table and tried to listen.
Of course, I wasnt sure if youd come for dinner, she said softly, putting down her own fork and knife now. I know Ive come very close to blowing it with you. All this spring, I thought I was the one who had trouble with grief, MacDougal.
You did.
Yes. I was grieving. For Robert. And for the injustice of a life lost. I didnt know how to copebut then you came along, with your bullying and your tough love. Everybody coddled me but you. She cocked her head. I guess Im like the lavender, Pete. Pamper me too much and I just get soft. But if you give me a chance to be strong, thats who I am, who I want to be. Strong.
Could we go back to what you said about being with me-
Were getting to that, she assured him, and handed him a buttered roll.
He put it down on his plate.
You pushed me back into life. But I was selfish. I didnt realize that you were suffering from grief, too. That you had just as big a loss to recover from as I did. But you had to be strong for your boys, strong for your father, so you never had a chance to deal with it.
I dont have anything to deal with.
Pete. Im so sorry she didnt value you. Im even sorry for her that she was so stupid. I cant imagine a woman in her right mind leaving your bed or your life-not once I knew, for myself, how much love you had in you. She was obviously completely demented.
It took him a second to figure out that she was his ex-wife. How the hell shed gotten into the conversation confounded him. Um-
Her voice gathered strength, came out clear and true and sweet. I loved Robert. You always seemed to accept that, and Im grateful, because that was a wonderfully good part of my life. But knowing you, Pete, and seeing how you handled a time when I was terrible troublehow you accepted me when I couldnt even accept myselfthats a deeper kind of love than I ever knew existed. Its the kind of love I want now. Its the kind of love Im willing to fight for now. And its the kind of love that Im strong enough to fight for.
She sprang up and surged over to his side of the table, but then hesitated. Suddenly she didnt seem so sure of her welcome-but that changed. Faster than the speed of sound, he tugged her on his lap and swooped her tight in his arms. She let out a long, achy sigh and nestled there, her arms hooked around his neck, the sunset dabbling jewel colors through the trees on her face. Are you going to ever get around to kissing me, MacDougal?
Im going to do more than kiss you, he assured her. But right now, Im still trying to remember how to breathe. How to believe. Because I wasnt looking to believe in love again, Cam.
Im going to do more than kiss you, he assured her. But right now, Im still trying to remember how to breathe. How to believe. Because I wasnt looking to believe in love again, Cam.
Neither was I, so revenge is sweet. I didnt want to love anyone. Ever again. But you made me, Pete. Since he was being so poke slow, she blessed the touch of her lips against his. Damn, but her big strong Scots neighbor suddenly wasnt so steady. That forehead of his was still furrowed with the shadow of a frown, his eyes still haunted.