Benton opened the solid wood door. The outside light illuminated an attractive young woman with auburn curls framing her petite features.
“Hello . . . how may I help you?”
She smiled. “Quinn, it’s me, Marci. I took you up on your invitation.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Benton had referred to Miss Garfield twice, and only briefly, at the professors’ get-togethers. So of course, Katherine was as surprised as he appeared to be that Marci was exceptionally pretty and had indeed joined them at the antique store. Now they only needed Claire to arrive to make the evening complete.
Was Katherine a threat? What were Benton’s sentiments? Yes, Katherine’s with the group tonight. Maybe he’d told Marci everything about the B grade and Grandma. In a roundabout way, maybe he’d even referred to her as attractive.
Stop thinking, she told herself.
Slim and attractive, wearing perfume, with a fitted magenta blouse over black tights, black heels, and a gray Coach purse, Marci gave an entirely new impression of the term “Realtor.” Marci sat down across from Carl, in the remaining chair at the round oak table. Benton made his introductions and informed Miss Garfield that Evans and Cindy were dining upstairs, and were also in charge of the music.
“My blind date with this guy named Trent ended before six thirty.” Marci rolled her eyes. “We met in Pullman at the Old Post Office restaurant. He said he was in real estate also, which was odd, as I should have been able to place him. He’s actually in escrow. When he was in the restroom, I called a friend of mine who’s also in title, and she said this man has a poor reputation. Sloppy paperwork and a near lawsuit for sexual harassment. He’s very good looking and aware of it.” Her eyes rested briefly on Carl.
“You must feel very disappointed,” he said.
“How did you manage to escape?” Benton asked.
“I had the same friend call me back and pretend there was an emergency with her child. It was awkward, but I left.” Marci’s gaze shifted from Benton to Carl and remained at the latter. “I had a sale fail today, and then the title guy was the icing on the cake who, I’m sorry to admit, sold himself very well on the phone.”
“Quinn’s had the same type of evening.” Carl nodded to his right. “There’s a particular woman, a Miss Palouse, that he’s quite enamored with.”
Shame on Carl. He’d purposefully made Benton’s heart sound taken. Katherine kicked Carl’s shin beneath the table. He didn’t even blink.
“As you probably know, Marci,” Katherine said, “Mr. Benton has never met Miss Palouse, so to say he’s enamored with her is a tad far-fetched.”
“As I told you earlier, Katherine, I am enamored with her.” Benton met Katherine’s gaze across the table.
He wasn’t helping the situation much. “Do you blind date often, Marci?” Katherine asked.
“Yes, and no, in spurts. It was another blind date that set up tonight’s. I should have known better.” She frowned and puffed a whimsical curl away from her face. “Carl, what line of work are you in?”
“I’m a US history professor at Lewis-Clark State College in Lewiston.”
“Ohhhh.” Turning her head to the side, Marci gave him a glimpse of her sweet profile.
“Just like Mr. Benton; they both teach US history,” Katherine tried to divert Marci’s attention from Carl’s chiseled features to Benton’s handsomeness. Wide-eyed, she implored him to do something, get Marci away from the table, away from Carl—go for a walk, look at chairs, or the moon. Instead, arms crossed, he appeared slightly amused by the turn of events.
Carl rolled a kink out of his neck. “Marci, Katherine has a dating question she’s always wanted to be asked. One I rather like. If you could be a journalist in any American war, which war would you choose?”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Marci smiled. “I’m fond of the architecture of the Old South. Especially the . . .” Her eyes darted north and then south. She cleared her throat. “The American Revolution. No . . . the . . .”
Brows gathered she stared at Carl’s mouth.
Benton watched Marci while Katherine watched Carl’s lower lip drop into a straight line as he mouthed “Civil.”
“The American Civil War.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“Benton,” Katherine said, trying to get the party going in the right direction, “maybe now would be a good time to look for a chair.” She bobbed her head slightly toward Marci.
Dark brows gathered, Benton slowly stood up. “Katherine, um, I need a chair for my office. Would you bring your flashlight and assist me?”
Not me, you dummy! She didn’t move an inch. What was he thinking?
He nodded toward the front of the store.
“Oh, but . . .” Marci crooned and glanced from Benton across the table to Carl. “Are you sure, Quinn? I mean, I can . . .”
“I think it’s for the best. Come on, Katherine.” Benton nodded toward the front of the store.
He was such a ninny. Here was finally a cute girl with a career. Not the smartest when it came to US history, but it was forgivable. After finding her flashlight in the front zipper area of her backpack, Katherine rose from the table. She paused for a moment, with her hands on the rungs of the chair, and gave Marci ten more seconds to realize she was being a poor judge of character. Then she joined Benton on the periphery of the candle’s light.
Taking the flashlight from her, he took the lead toward the front of the store. As soon as they reached their destination, she’d give him a piece of her mind.
Flooded in moonlight, the floor-to-ceiling windows outlined the merchandise near the front. Benton shone the light on a kitchen queen, an antique cupboard. It was tall and broad. Maybe he was into antiques, or perhaps he liked the fact that the monstrous piece completely hid them from Carl and Marci’s view.
“You just let him win.” Katherine stopped beside him. “She’s a cute girl with a career. You’re a ninny.”
“Yes, Katherine, you’ve been very consistent about giving me a piece of your mind.”
“And Carl of all people.” She sighed. Her gaze followed the path of his flashlight. It outlined a pair of salt-and-pepper shakers in Grandma’s Currier and Ives pattern.
“Uhhh, shine the light there again, Benton.” She guided his flashlight hand to where the shakers sat on a shelf in the kitchen queen. “Grandma’s been looking for those for years.” Holding the pair up to the light, she checked for nicks and found a six-dollar price tag. “I didn’t bring money. Can I borrow six dollars and forty-two cents?”
He chuckled. “Yes, of course. I’ve eaten how many meals at your home? I should be the one to buy them for Ethel.”
His soft tone made her stomach flip-flop, and why did he chuckle? Wasn’t he down about his second rejection of the evening? Feeling cautious, she glanced up at him. He was studying her. The light in his eyes was aided by moonlight and the street lamps of downtown Colfax.
“You just let Carl win. Within six weeks, it’ll be over. Marci will be heartbroken, and it’ll all be your fault.”
“Marci’s a venter. Always has to talk about her work. Something goes wrong every day for her. I knew that beforehand, but I’d told her I’d meet her all the same, and I’ve followed through.”
“So you’re okay?” Despite how cute Marci was, he appeared fine.
“Absolutely. You didn’t need to come to my rescue, but you were marvelous back there.”
Her knees felt weak. Was this really Benton speaking?
“I always root for the underdog. Carl’s so smooth. He’s like Jiffy peanut butter without peanuts.” Did that make sense? The sparkle in Benton’s eyes combined with his nearness made her feel nervous and chatty.
“Katherine.” There was a nuance to his tone. He moved slightly to face her. They were too close, inches apart. She inhaled. He probably had duct tape. He’d probably stocked up on it since the first night he’d driven her home, except his hands were free, and he lifted one
to gently grip her shoulder. The simple gesture was so sudden and intimate. She inhaled and blinked. If one of them didn’t say something soon, something unfortunate might happen.
“Um . . . you have a big slop of taco grease on the front of your shirt.” He glanced down briefly, drawing her own gaze to a large, unsightly smudge right above her chest, and on her favorite white shirt.
How embarrassing. How could he even look at her?
“It was almost sweet how you battled for me back there. I believe it was the first time we’ve ever been on the same side about something.”
He obviously hadn’t completely recovered from her first or second visit to his office. Maybe he never would. Except there had been a softness to his voice. “Like allies,” she whispered. Please don’t be rebounding.
“Yes . . . Carl’s used to winning. Golf, women, door prizes. That’s why you choosing to go home with me over him last week provoked tonight’s challenge.”
“Marci being the prize?” She wanted to peer around the side of the kitchen queen. “You don’t really think . . . ?”
“Evans warned me. I purposefully invited Marci hoping you wouldn’t take center stage. You have your studies.”
Touched by his thoughtfulness, she briefly hugged his arm.
“Now, do me the honor of helping me find a chair for my office.” He shone the flashlight toward a grouping of furniture to his left.
Ж
“Benton, Carl . . .” Evans yelled. “Katherine . . .” Evans’s voice carried to the main level.
Katherine patted Benton’s shoulder, trying to wake him. Groggy, he slid his feet over the side of the sofa and sat up. Due to sharing the same reading light, he’d fallen asleep on a couch pillow placed beside her hip.
“We’re over here, Evans,” Katherine said. “Near the front of the store . . . behind the wall of tall boy dressers.” She lowered her voice as he approached.
Holding a dessert plate in each hand, he paused at the entry to their palace. His sweeping gaze took in Katherine’s open textbook, her flashlight taped to the overhead lamp, and Benton stretching.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been sleeping.” He handed them each a piece of Cindy’s homemade Bundt cake topped with a drizzle of white icing.
“How much longer do you plan to hold us captive?” Benton rolled a kink out of his neck.
“It’s only eleven thirty. Take another nap if you’re so tired. Where did Carl and Marci Garfield disappear to?”
Benton shrugged. “They hit it off.”
“Are you okay about that?” Evans’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes. It worked out perfectly.”
Evans’s gaze shifted to Katherine. Brows lifted and highlighter in hand, she peered up at him. He was trying to read into the situation, but there wasn’t much to read into.
“We’ll stay a couple more hours if you don’t mind?”
Benton shook his head.
Katherine shrugged. “It’s fine with me.”
“Do I detect a peace treaty?” Evans asked.
“Yes.” Benton nodded. “Katherine and I are now allies. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“That’s good news.” Evans grinned. “Cindy and I are having a wonderful time. Do you know she used to scuba dive?”
“No.” Katherine laughed.
“Only because her ex-husband wanted her to, an anniversary present in the Florida Keys.”
“You don’t happen to have any coffee left?” Benton stood up and stretched.
“Yes, I’ll have Cindy bring two cups down.”
“Thank you,” Katherine said.
Cindy’s peach and blueberry-studded Bundt cake was delicious. “This is so good.” Katherine pulled her feet beneath her on the couch and was surprised by how comfortable she finally felt in Quinn’s presence. Perhaps the attraction was gone, that or she was just plain tired.
Carrying two cups of coffee, Cindy entered their abode. There was a keenness in her eyes as she handed Katherine the cup of coffee.
“The cake is delicious,” Katherine said.
“I second that.” Benton took a sip of coffee before setting his mug on the floor.
“Mark Twain said he could live on a compliment for two months. I’ve had enough tonight to last a year.” Cindy smiled.
“Sounds like the two of you are getting along.” Benton watched her closely.
“I haven’t laughed so much in eons, maybe ever.”
“Do you think Evans is game for us to finally join you?” he asked.
“No, as you know, he’s been trying to get me alone without lesson plans for years.” At that, Cindy exited their boudoir.
Had Evans been behind the evening’s turn of events? No, he couldn’t have planned Miss Palouse’s water heater and Marci’s response to Carl.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Katherine awoke to someone fastening the seat belt near her hip. She was sitting in the backseat of Evans’s Cadillac with her left cheek pressed against Benton’s shoulder. A wooden chair, with its legs positioned toward the ceiling, occupied his prior space.
“I just read that four percent of adults sleepwalk,” Cindy said.
“Sorry, Katherine. The trunk’s full. Cindy bought three chairs, and this one wouldn’t fit over the hump.” He motioned to the middle of the floorboard.
They were still in Colfax. Benton must have walked her to the car. She rubbed her eyes.
“Katherine, how’d your studying go?” Evans peered in the rearview mirror.
“Good.” She sat up and covered a yawn. The cab felt too quiet; hopefully, everyone hadn’t discussed everything already.
“Are Evans and Cindy officially a couple now?” she whispered.
“I think so. I’m very tired of the album they were playing.”
“Time in a Bottle” was also Carl and Marci’s first song.
As they drove out of the valley town into the open countryside, the full moon cast a monochromatic aura of gray-blues across the knee-high fields of rolling wheat. Van Gogh would have been inspired.
“How was your first date, Evans?” Benton asked.
“What do you think, Miss Fancy?” Evans glanced at Cindy.
“I had a marvelous time.”
Strangely, so had Katherine. Now Benton’s nearness, his shoulder pressing into hers, his knee brushing against hers, was a raw reminder of the strong attraction between them, or at least on her side.
“So Miss Garfield was far more attractive than you anticipated?” Evans glanced in his rearview mirror at Benton.
“She and Carl are a great couple.” He shrugged. “Though Marci didn’t admit it, I think hearing that Katherine was with us got her here.”
“Nothing like a little competition, even if it’s fictitious,” Evans said. “Was it love at first sight for Carl, or could you tell?”
What a bold question to ask, and at this hour.
“I’m sure we’ll hear Carl’s side tomorrow at breakfast.” Benton yawned.
“Now, who’s your blind date next week?” Cindy asked.
“I’m getting my hair cut in Princeton, Idaho, at the same time as Miss Harvard.”
“How was your evening with Katherine?” Evans asked.
Katherine’s breathing shallowed as she waited for his recap of their time together.
Quinn cleared his throat. “When Marci showed favoritism to Carl tonight, Katherine rallied to my aid. She was surprisingly concerned about my state of mind. Enough so that I am willing to drop all former, and perhaps incorrect, impressions I may have had regarding her.”
“Please speak English, both of you,” Cindy said.
“Katherine rallied to your aid?” Evans sounded pleased.
“Yes. Carl was dealt a better hand in Marci’s eyes, and, Katherine, how did you put it?” Turning his head slightly, he smiled at her. “That’s right, you said you always root for the underdog. Katherine tried to encourage me to stay in the fight.”
“Oh, you were the underdog in Marci
’s eyes.” Evans sighed. “It sounds like Carl was at his usual best.”
Katherine gazed out her side of the car at the moonlit rolling hills. How could Evans—her dear, sweet professor—have even thought of matchmaking her with such a womanizer?
“How many dates do you presently have lined up?” Cindy asked.
“Three,” Evans said.
“I believe Grandma has them written on the calendar,” Katherine whispered.
“Really?” Quinn smiled at her.
“Yes, if you ever need a reminder, it’s on the wall, adjacent to where I sit at the table.”
He nodded slightly, gazing right into her eyes.
A cruise-ship-sized docking knot formed in her gut. There was an attraction as big as the Princess Cruise Line between them, or at least on her side, and now they were squished together in the backseat.
“Who’s after Miss Harvard?” Cindy asked. “I think it’s the hour; I feel confused.”
“The nurse,” Quinn said. “She works in Moscow at Gritman Hospital but lives in Princeton. The following Friday, Miss Palouse and I will try again.”
“Three weeks,” Katherine whispered.
“Third time’s a charm,” Evans said.
“Harvard University or Harvard, the tiny town past Princeton?” Cindy asked.
“The town. My sister cuts hair in Princeton and set this up. The gal, a sales clerk in the town of Harvard, doesn’t know about the setup.”
“I stopped at a pay phone in Harvard once,” Cindy said. “That’s all I remember of the town.”
“There’s also a church, a tavern, a wee little grocery store.” Benton glanced over his shoulder at her, a soft sparkle in his dark eyes.
What to think? What to think? Stop thinking!
“You fell asleep,” he whispered. “One minute we were talking, and the next you were asleep.”
She was surprised she ever could have fallen asleep in his company.
“What time is it?”
He peered at his wristwatch. “Two minutes past two.”
“That’s probably why.”
Sticky Notes - A clean romance (Ethel King Series Book 1) Page 20