Youre a hell of a busy woman, he said. His tone was almost accusing, as if shed misled him into thinking she was too scatterbrained to maintain any kind of serious, busy life.
Im sorry if the phone woke you. Its been hell coming back to the town where I grew up, because everyone knows me. She added quickly, Are you hungry? All I have to do is pop the shrimp on the grill and Im ready-
Ill do it, so you can stay off that hurt foot.
Whenever she woke up from a nap, she had cheek creases and bed hair and a crabs mood until she got going again. He seemed to wake up just as full of hell and awareness as when hed dropped off. There was no way she could like a man with that kind of personality flaw. Worse yet, he proved himself to be one of those easygoing guys, the kind who rolled with the punches and tended to fit in whatever kind of gathering they walked into. He started her grill before she could-and the barbecue was one that could make her mother swear; it never lit unless you begged it desperately. Then he found her silverware drawer and set the table without asking. Granted, it wasnt challenging to find anyones silverware drawer, but for a man to make himself useful without praising him every thirty seconds? It was spooky.
There had to be a catch.
What do you usually drink for dinner? Wine, water, what?
You can have wine if you want. I know Ive got a couple open bottles on the second shelf-not fancy quality, but okay. For myself, though, this day has been too much of a blinger to do wine.
He grinned. The smile transformed his face, whipped off five years and made her think what a hellion he must have been as a little boy. So youd like to drink?
Long Island iced tea, she said primly.
He burst out laughing. I got it now. Cut straight to the hard stuff.
Its been an exhausting day, she defended.
Youre not kidding.
The phone rang yet again-it was just another call, nothing that affected life or death-so after that she turned down the volume and let the answering machine pick up. She wasnt ready to fix the sun and the moon, but she was prepared to concentrate on the lavender deal.
Still, the instant they sat down to dinner, it was obvious they wouldnt be talking business for a bit longer. You havent eaten in days? she inquired tactfully.
Not real food. Not food someones actually taken the time to make from scratch. It was impossible to eat her spicy shrimp without licking ones fingers. But when he licked his, he also met her eyes. Would you marry me?
She rolled her eyes. Ill bet you say that to all the girls.
Actually, I never say it. I figured out, from a very short, very bad marriage years ago, that Im too footloose to be the marrying kind. But Im more than willing to make an exception for you.
Well, thanks so much, she said kindly, but Id only say yes to my worst enemy, and I dont know you well enough to be sure you could ever get on that list.
Well, thanks so much, she said kindly, but Id only say yes to my worst enemy, and I dont know you well enough to be sure you could ever get on that list.
Hed clearly been teasing, but now he hesitated, his eyes narrowing speculatively. He even stopped eating-for fifteen seconds at least. Thats an interesting thing to say. You think youd be so hard to be married to?
I dont think. I know. She hadnt meant to sidetrack down a serious road. It was his fault. Once hed implied that he wasnt in the marriage market, she instinctively seemed to relax more. Now, though, she steered quickly back to lighter teasing. Never mind that. The point is that you might want to be careful making rash offers like that, at least until you know the woman a little better.
Normally, yeah. But in your case I know everything I need to know. I havent had food like this sincehell. Maybe since never. Where the hell did you learn to cook?
My mom. Most of her family was French, and she loved to putter in the kitchen, let all three of us girls putter with her. My one older sister is downright fabulous. Give Daisy a grain of salt, and I swear she can make something of it. Me, thoughI just like to mess around with food.
Well, I can cook okay. I even like to-when Ive got a kitchen to play around in. But at my best, I never came up with dishes like this.
That was enough compliments. The cats were circling, which he didnt seem to mind. Shed never fed them from the table, but that didnt mean anything. Telling a cat not to do something was like waving a red flag in front of a bull, and theyd all smelled the shrimp cooking.
Outside, evening was coming on. The crickets hadnt started up yet, but the birds had already quieted, the last of the days sultry wind died down. It was that pre-dusk time when a soft, intimate yellow haze settled a gentle blanket on everything.
Hed leveled one plate, filled another. She had no choice about piling on more food. God knew how the man stayed so lean, but it was obvious hed been starved. He even ate her asparagus soup with gusto, and that took guts for a guy.
I didnt see that much, driving up-but it looks like youve got a beautiful piece of land here, he remarked.
It is. Been in my family since the 1700s. My dads side was from Scotland. Lots of people with that background here. Maybe they felt at home with the rocky land and the slopes and the stern winters. She asked, Sometimes I catch a little French accent when you talkwhich I guess is obvious if you work at Jeunnesse. But its not there all the time. Do you actually live in France?
Yes and no. Ive worked for Jeunnesse for better than fifteen years now. I like them, like the work. But basically what Ive always loved is traveling around the globe. So Ive got a small apartment in Provence, but Ive kept my American citizenship, have a cottage in upstate New York. Both are only places I hang my hat. I live for months at a time wherever Jeunnesse sends me.
So theres no place you really call home?
Nope. I think I was just born rootless. He said it as if wanting to make sure she really heard him. Youre the opposite, arent you? Everything in your familys land is about people who value roots.
Yes. She suspected women had chased him, hoping theyd be the one who could turn him around. It was so ironic. She was as root bound as a woman could be. All shed ever wanted in life was a man to love and a house full of kids. Still, discovering they were such opposites reassured her totally that nothing personal was likely to happen between them. Youve never had a hunger for kids? she asked him.
Ive got kids. Two daughters, Miranda and Kate. He leaned over and filled her glass. She wasnt sure whether shed finished two or he just kept topping off her first one. Either way she knew she wouldnt normally be prying into a strangers life without the help of some Long Island iced tea. My ex-wife still lives in upstate New York-which is why Ive kept a cottage up there-so that I can easily come back a few times a year to see the girls. Although, often enough as theyve gotten older, theyve come to see me. They didnt mind having a dad spring for tickets to Paris or Buenos Aires.
But didnt you mind missing a lot of their growing-up years?
He got up and served the grape sorbet-once hed determined that was the one course he hadnt tried yet. Yeah. I missed it. But I tried the suit-and-tie kind of life when I was married. Almost went out of my mind. She kicked me out, told me I was the most irresponsible son of a gun shed ever laid eyes on. But I wasnt.
No?
No. I never missed a days work, never failed to bring home a paycheck. It was sitting still I couldnt handle. Everyone cant like the same music, you know?
She knew, but she also suspected there had to be some kind of story in those lake-blue eyes. Maybe he was a vagabond, one of those guys who couldnt stand to be tied down. But maybe something had made him that way.
She stood up and hefted their plates. His life wasnt her business, of course, or ever likely to be. Ill pop the dishes in the dishwasher, and then we can talk outside.
Nope. He stood up, too. Ill pop the dishes in the dishwasher, and you can put your foot up outside.
She let him.
Once he called out, Is it okay if I put the cats in the dishwasher, too?
And she yelled back, Why, sure. If you dont want to live until morning.
He banged around in there, whistling something that sounded like Hard-Hearted Woman, occasionally scolding the cats, but eventually he finished up and pushed through the back screen door, carrying another pitcher, sweating cold and jammed with ice cubes.
Shed already settled on the old slatted swing, with her sore foot perched on the swing arm and her good foot braced against the porch rail to keep the swing moving at a lullaby speed. He took the white wicker rocker and poured two glasses. Two iced teas. No alcohol involved.
Good. It was time they talked seriously. She knew it as well as he did, but the screen door suddenly opened as if by a ghost hand, startling them bothonly to see a flat-faced golden Persian nuzzle her way outside. As soon as Cameron settled back in the rocker, the thug-size cat leaped on his lap.
Could you tell your damn cat its hotter than blazes, and I need a fur coat on my lap like I need poison ivy?
Its hard to hear over her purring, but honestly, if shes in your way, just put her down.
Get down, he told the cat, in a lovers croon. But that wasnt the voice he used with her. Maybe he was stroking the cat, but the eyes that met hers had turned cool and careful. You think weve spent enough time getting comfortable with each other?
Enough to talk, she agreed, and settled one thing right off the bat. Youve spent hours traveling and its too late now to find a place in White Hills. You can stay here tonight, no matter how we work out everything else.
Ill camp outside, he said.
Fine. She wasnt making a big deal out of where he hung his hat. Hed won some trust from her. Not a ton. But if she didnt feel precisely safe around him, it wasnt because she feared he was a serial killer or criminal. The man had more character in his jaw bone than most men did in their whole bodies. But its your plan for my lavender that I want to hear about.