Time Twist

by Jeanie R. Davis

  “Is there anything else, Mr. Somers?”

  He glared at her, as if she’d asked an impertinent question. What did he want from her? Crazy man. She ignored the look and pressed on. “If not, I’d like to finish taking some measurements upstairs.”

  He grunted. “I have work to do in my office. Do not disturb me.” He did an about face and left the room.

  He had work in his office. Strange. Would he be sitting on the settee or the floor? A desk had yet to arrive. Ari shook her head and wandered up the stairs.

  Mr. Somers’ very presence gave the once warm house an eerie feeling. And, though she tried to hide it, his cold demeanor intimidated her, causing her to second-guess her choices of patterns, fabrics and textures. She even measured everything three times—just to be sure. By the end of the day, she was exhausted. Thank goodness it was the weekend.

  ****

  Officer Flemming stood at the front door of Ari’s apartment holding a bouquet of daisies. “I owe you an apology, Miss Mil—Arianna.”

  Ari stared in disbelief. Officer Flemming looked like a different man in his casual denim shirt and jeans. No longer the intimidating policeman wearing a scowl. And he smelled good. Like spicy freshness. “It’s really okay. You didn’t need to—”

  “Yes, I did. I was rude. It’s just”—he shifted his weight—“finding you—or anyone—in that house took me by surprise. I didn’t know construction on it had been completed. You’ve most likely received warmer welcomes than the one I gave you.” He chuckled but sounded nervous. “Will you let me make it up to you with a picnic lunch?”

  She appraised him through narrowed eyes, unsure of what to think. Picnic lunch. Huh. That was a new one. “How did you know where I live?”

  “I am a police officer; I know where everybody lives. There are no secrets at a police station.” His mouth spread into a grin.

  She hesitantly returned his smile. “I guess that makes sense. And you want to take me on a picnic?” Flustered, she looked down at her bare feet and the worn jeans and sky-blue t-shirt she’d pulled on after her shower. Saturday mornings meant sleeping in and reading a book—her favorite pastime. She hadn’t even finished the first chapter before Officer Flemming had shown up.

  “Uh”—he ran his hand through his dark hair—“if I have caught you at a bad time, I understand.” He pushed the bouquet toward her. “We can talk another day.” He took a step back.

  “No, no. I’m just surprised to see you. And I’m not dressed to go anywhere.” She waved him in. “I should probably change my clothes.”

  “No need, you’re perfect. That is, you’re dressed just right for a picnic.” She noticed a hint of red spreading across his cheeks.

  She looked at the bouquet in her hands and walked a few feet to the kitchen to grab a vase, not knowing whether to be nervous or excited. She shrugged and decided to throw caution to the wind. Excited it is—for now. Officer Flemming remained in the doorway. She called over her shoulder, “Do I need to make sandwiches, or something?” She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been on a picnic.

  “I suppose I was being presumptuous, or perhaps just hopeful, that you would be willing to go with me today. I brought food. It’s in the cruiser.” He motioned to the squad car in front of her apartment.

  She scanned the room for her purse and shoes. “We’re going in your police car? Can you do that when you’re not on duty?”

  “My only other vehicle is a motorcycle, and it is rather difficult to carry a picnic basket on one of those. And to answer your second question, Pueblo is pretty—what would you say”—he raised his eyes upward for a moment—“laid back. There is only one thing I am not allowed to do in the cruiser when I am not on duty.”

  “What?”

  “Drag.”

  “Drag?” Her mind could take her in several directions with that.

  He chuckled, but his posture stiffened. “Sorry. That’s what Joe calls racing. We didn’t call it that in England.”

  “Oh, you mean drag racing. You can’t drag race in your squad car.” She watched his dimples pucker and his face turn red. “Yeah, it’s probably a good idea to avoid racing, unless you’re chasing a criminal.” She smiled.

  He let out a breath and his shoulders relaxed a fraction.

  “But, there’s one thing I must know before I agree to this picnic.” She lowered her brows to appear serious.

  His forehead creased in a look of concern. “And what is that?”

  “I don’t think I can spend the afternoon calling you Officer. Is there any possibility you have a different name—when you’re off duty, of course?” She cracked a grin.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. My name is Christopher.”

  “Hmm, Christopher.” She looked at the ceiling before meeting his gaze. “I like it. It suits you. I suppose I’ll go with you.” She slipped into her sandals and grabbed her bag.

  “I shudder to think of what you would do if my name were Horace, or Rudolph.” She pulled a sour face. His laugh, rich and warm, made her heart skip a beat. “In that case”—he held his arm out for her to take—“let us be off then, shall we?”

  She took his arm, enjoying a tingling sensation in her fingers, as they walked to the waiting squad car. He opened the door and she slid onto the vinyl seat. She felt a little awkward riding in a police cruiser, but she definitely enjoyed sitting next to the handsome, spicy-fresh smelling officer at the wheel.

  “I didn’t realize I live so close to a park. I guess I spend all my time driving away from the city.” She glanced around as they approached the beautiful green expanse. Elm trees stood as sentinels around the perimeter, providing patches of cool shade. She breathed in the smell of spring in the air—fresh cut grass and blooming flowers.

  There were several families at the park with the same idea—enjoying a picnic. Sudden tears sprang to her eyes. She never considered that something as simple as a family picnicking together would invoke sadness. In that moment, the two and a half years her family had been gone felt like only a day. She blinked back the moisture, willing her memories away from the surface. She glanced up to see Christopher staring at her. His cobalt blue eyes focused on hers.

  “Are you well, Arianna?”

  “Yes. Allergies.” She gave him her brightest smile. She wasn’t about to unload her grief on a nearly perfect stranger.

  His face relaxed as he led the way to a lovely spot in the shade. He laid down a blanket, opened the picnic basket and removed a bounteous spread of sandwiches, fruit, potato chips, water bottles and even some French pastries for dessert.

  Her stomach rumbled. Embarrassed, she remembered she hadn’t eaten breakfast. “Working on the outskirts of town works well for my starvation diet.” She rubbed her growling middle, hoping to hush it. “This is so nice. Thank you.” She reached for a piece of fruit. Grocery shopping was on her to-do list. It really was—right after she finished reading a few chapters in her book, and maybe taking a nap. Her stomach growled again. Christopher may have just saved her life—or fostered her procrastination.

  “I wondered if you were skipping your lunches. The project you’re working on is miles from civilization. As far as a diet goes, however”—he shook his head—“I didn’t show up a minute too soon. You look as if you might blow away with the next gust of wind.”

  Arianna laughed and bit into an apple. He was definitely saying the right things—so far. In her experience, men would say everything she’d want to hear to get her out on that first date. Then their true colors would appear. By showing up unannounced, Christopher Flemming was messing with the order of things. Interesting. She liked it.

  Conversation came easily once they’d hurdled the initial awkwardness. He was starkly different from the police officer who’d shown up at her project site on Tuesday—very congenial. She found herself thinking of clever things to say just to watch his blue eyes sparkle and his face dimple.

  They sat lazily eating as if they’d known each other for years. Ar
i hadn’t realized how homesick she’d become in the few short days she’d been away from her friends in Denver. Now she had a friend in Pueblo.

  When the last sandwich had been devoured, a Frisbee crashed down between them. Two kids rushed over to retrieve the errant toy. Christopher grabbed the disc and flipped it around, as if he were examining it.

  “It’s just a Frisbee, Christopher.” Ari motioned with her head to toss it back to the children.

  The kids waited patiently. Finally, the boy said in a voice of authority, “Don’t you know how to throw it? I’ll show you.” He took the disc, turned it to the proper position and gave it back to Chris. “Now tuck and throw.” He mimicked the motion with his empty hand.

  Christopher followed the boy’s directions and sent it gliding through the air in perfect form. Ari shook her head. Christopher had obviously thrown a Frisbee before.

  Only seconds later the Frisbee returned, sailing closer to her this time. They both jumped up and she successfully caught it, but her foot snagged on an exposed root, lurching her forward. Warm arms closed around her waist, steadying her. “You all right?” Christopher’s voice tickled her ear. His musky aftershave smelled so good. Electricity sparked through her.

  For a split-second, she wished to turn around and gaze into his eyes, but she tamped down the longing and stepped away. “Yes, thank you.” She glanced back at him and saw a shadow of desire mirrored in his eyes.

  She returned to the blanket and the French pastry she’d been eating. After the thrill of being in Christopher’s arms, the goody lost some of its appeal.

  Enamored with Christopher now, the kids wanted to keep up the fun and games.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said to the pair when they returned the Frisbee for the third time. “How about I take this delicious pastry, filled with whipped cream, and split it in half for the two of you, and you can return to your family picnic? I believe your parents are becoming a bit jealous of my friend and me.”

  Nodding their heads, they each took their half of his pastry and made off to their parents’ blanket.

  Feeling more than a little guilty, Arianna lifted her own half-eaten pastry. “Do you want the rest of mine?”

  “No, thank you.” His mouth quirked into a grin. “I’d rather watch you eat it—or, you know, wear it.” His smile broadened, and his dimples deepened.

  “What?” Ari grabbed a napkin and began dabbing her lips. He pointed to her nose. Oh, no, she knew the pastry had been messy, but her nose? She swiped at it. “Better?”

  “Perfect.”

  Heat rose to meet Ari’s already warm cheeks. “Oh my goodness, how long was that there?”

  “Just long enough.” His eyes sparkled.

  After a while of relaxing on the blanket, he stood up and held out his hand to Arianna. “I do believe I should take you home before it is time for supper.”

  Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be pulled to a standing position. She never wanted the picnic to end. He was different than other men—such a gentleman.

  Christopher drove her to her apartment and walked her to the door. He politely thanked her for spending the afternoon with him, took her hand, and pressed a kiss on her fingers.

  Her heart thumped erratically, as if it might leap from her chest. Before she had time to react, he was gone.

  “This simply will not wait. I have to call Maggie.” She pulled out her phone and dialed, eager to spill every detail of the picnic, from the perfect way Christopher looked, to his impeccable manners.

  “Don’t get too excited, Ari.” Maggie dowsed Arianna’s enthusiasm by her reply but didn’t snuff it out. “You don’t want to jinx anything. This guy sounds too good to be true.”

  Ari had to agree. After all, he hadn’t been exactly pleasant on their first encounter. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the tender way he’d gazed at her, his warm arms around her waist, and the kiss on her hand, which she’d permanently etched into her memory. Even so, first dates were too early to form an accurate appraisal. She needed more data. More dates.

  Chapter Nine

  Christopher sped away from Ari’s apartment, the fragrance of her tropical shampoo still hanging in the air. He inhaled deeply and smiled—then scowled. Irritated with his good mood, he pounded the steering wheel. What was he thinking? He couldn’t fall for this girl. He couldn’t fall for any girl. His past wouldn’t permit it. His goal today had been to rectify a wrong—an apology picnic. He’d only wished to welcome her properly to Pueblo. Let her know he was friend, not foe. He needed her trust. Instead he found her consuming his thoughts.

  Admittedly, he couldn’t help comparing her to other women. Charming and naturally pretty, she was real—so unlike Charlotte. Sure, Ari wore makeup, but very little. Her beauty came from an inner glow and sparkling eyes.

  He had hoped to become better acquainted with her and earn her confidence while on the picnic. The idea had been a good one, and seemed to work. Yet, it had also backfired. She’s one more person for me to feel responsible for. A twinge of guilt pinched his conscience for thinking of Arianna as a burden, but his father gave him every reason to worry for her safety.

  In any other circumstance—well, back in the 1800s, that is—he would love to get to know her on a more intimate level, but now he just needed to see that she did her job and returned safely to Denver. It had shocked and made him feel uneasy to find her working in his family’s house. And to top that, she was a vulnerable young lady—working alone. Why couldn’t the designer be a muscle-bound, weightlifting, Harley rider? He grinned at the image. It was a fleeting emotion, however, as he flattened his lips to a frown.

  He didn’t know exactly what his father had been up to over the past four years, but he had pieced enough of the puzzle together to know Benjamin Somerset had not transported himself two hundred years into the future to live as a choirboy.

  ****

  Christopher ducked into Riverside Bar and Grill, where he met up with some guys from work. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he enjoyed the company of his friends and Riverside’s great food. He’d never made it a secret that his father had been an alcoholic, and by not drinking, Christopher knew he’d never become his father. Sometimes his friends ribbed him, but for the most part, he’d earned their respect. He took it all in stride, held firm to his convictions and didn’t even mind the title he’d earned as the “Pueblo PD’s Designated Driver.”

  “Heard you met Charlotte,” Luke Cahill shouted over the din of the bar. Several men groaned. “Did Joe do that to ya?”

  Christopher shot Joe a mock glare. “Indeed, he did.”

  “Don’t worry. Charlotte only wants your money.” Cahill bit into a chicken wing.

  Joe lifted his drink, motioning to Christopher. “Well, she seems to think Flemming here’s got some stashed away. She stormed out of Abby’s screamin’ that he wouldn’t tell her where the diamonds were hidden, or some nonsense.” The men roared with laughter. “And Flemming’s just starin’ at his food like he didn’t know what hit him. That Charlotte’s a loon.”

  Christopher chuckled with the guys, relieved to learn of Charlotte’s low credibility. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he’d shared his unbelievable tale with her. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  “Let us know if you find that stash of jewels, Flemming. I want in,” jibed Cahill. More laughter.

  A baseball game on TV took their attention off Christopher. He finished his burger, then stared into space.

  “Flemming, you have that dazed look on your face again. Could you be thinking about a certain designer?” Joe slyly punched him on the arm.

  Christopher shook his head and took a sip of soda. In truth, he was thinking about Arianna, but he would never hear the end of it if he admitted it to this group. He’d thought of little else since their picnic earlier in the day. Her warm personality had been refreshingly sincere. And, still, every time he pictured her pretty face, his heart thudded erratically. He’d w
ished to reach out and grab her where she stood in the doorway, with her eyes twinkling—blue today—and wearing that beautiful smile. Of course, he’d never do that. His father may have made a mess of his life, but Christopher, reared by his mother to be a gentleman, showed restraint. Then in the park, the way she’d looked sitting in the sunlight with her golden hair cascading gently down her back—it was a sight he’d not soon forget. The kids playing Frisbee thankfully knocked him from the trance she had him in before he said anything foolish.

  Nights were lonely for Christopher. But he’d learned early on that courting in the twenty-first century wasn’t in the cards for him. After a few attempts, he’d realized he could never be completely honest about his past, and a good relationship required honesty. Therefore, he avoided forming attachments altogether.

  Arianna seemed different from other women, however. She had an innocence he found appealing which brightened her countenance—a true inner beauty. And there was that sparkle in her captivating blue-green eyes he’d found irresistible.

  The problem he faced now was how to protect her from his father without becoming too attached—if it wasn’t already too late. He patted his phone. Good thing he’d gotten her number so he could check on her now and then.

  Chapter Ten

  Arianna checked her phone for at least the twentieth time. She knew she shouldn’t be waiting to hear from Christopher, but he’d occupied most of her thoughts ever since their picnic on Saturday. She never imagined she’d be happy to see Monday arrive, but she loved her job and welcomed a reason to push thoughts of Christopher aside.

  Once back at the Somers’ house, she became absorbed in decorating. She still had rooms to measure, colors to coordinate, and textures to blend. Designing was an art; that’s why she loved it. Plus, this week, two of the special orders were scheduled to arrive—pieces the Somers had picked out before hiring her. Being surrounded by new decor made her happy. On her days off, she often spent hours walking through showrooms. The different configurations in which store designers arranged furniture intrigued her—plus, she loved the smell. There’s nothing like breathing in the scent of new sofas, table, chairs; all of it. She closed her eyes and smiled.