Loving Lizbeth

by Ruth Langan

  “Maybe they just haven’t looked in the right places.” She glanced up to find him staring at her. To cover her discomfort she asked, “More coffee?”

  “Yes.” He reached for the pot at the same moment she did, and his fingers brushed hers before she pulled her hand back.

  She could feel the heat staining her cheeks. To cover her awkwardness she got to her feet. “Maybe you’d like to finish your coffee in the library. I have an excellent collection of books, movies and music.”

  “Yeah. I noticed.”

  “There’s also some fine, old brandy, if you’d like an after dinner drink.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m going to see to these dishes.” As she began clearing the table and loading the serving cart she added, “You may even want to take a stroll around town before it grows too dark.”

  As she pushed the cart from the room he sat back a moment, watching her retreating back. Then he smiled to himself. If he wasn’t mistaken, his lovely innkeeper was scheming to get rid of him. It would seem that he made her uncomfortable.

  That thought made him all the more determined to find out why.

  Lizbeth disposed of the cart in the kitchen, then returned to the dining room to wipe down the table. She was pleased to find the room empty. She didn’t think she could take any more of those long, probing looks. Did Colin do that on purpose, she wondered, just to watch her squirm? Or was he unaware of what he was doing?

  She mentally shook herself. Get over it, she cautioned. He was going to be here for a month or more. And she couldn’t afford to freeze up every time the man looked at her.

  He had the most incredible eyes. She paused in her work to glance out the window at the darkening sky. A deep midnight blue. And a killer smile. It was a good thing she was the calm, sensible type. Wasn’t that what everyone said about her? Good old reliable Lizbeth. If she were anything else, she might have a tough time ignoring all that charm.

  Annoyed with the direction of her thoughts she made her way back to the kitchen and began rinsing the dishes before loading the dishwasher. When the door opened she looked up to see Colin standing in the doorway. He strolled in carrying a bottle of brandy and two snifters, which he set on the counter.

  She shot him a puzzled look. “Did you need something?”

  “I thought I’d keep you company.”

  “I’m…just finishing up the dishes.”

  “Yeah. I can see that.” He shot her a wicked smile. “My timing was perfect. I figured if I gave you a couple of minutes, you’d have most of them done.”

  He nodded toward the fireplace, where a cozy fire burned. “Want me to add another log?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  He tossed a log on the fire, then poured brandy into two snifters. He lifted one between his hands, letting the warmth of his palms heat the liquid. And all the while he watched her.

  She added detergent and set the dials before closing the door of the dishwasher. Then she wiped down the serving cart, and finally the counter and sink, before drying her hands.

  Colin leaned a hip against the back of the loveseat. He liked watching her. He admired the economy of movement. The ease with which she managed the routine. Nothing hurried. Nothing careless. And he liked the way she looked in her kitchen. Comfortable, with herself and her surroundings. But what he liked best was simply the way she looked. That sweater and long sweep of skirt revealing a body that was all softness and curves. And that untidy mass of curls that made him itch to touch.

  He watched as she began tying several loaves of date nut bread with a length of pretty ribbon. “A gift?”

  “Yes.” She kept her back to him as she finished. “Loretta Mayfair is my closest neighbor. She lives just down the street, beyond my garden. She’s ninety-two and finds it hard to bake the things she once made. So whenever I bake something that I think she’d like, I always make extra for her. I’ll take it to her tomorrow, along with a couple of little pots of jelly.”

  “Which you made, of course.”

  “Of course.” She turned and found him grinning.

  “Do you have anything more that needs to be done?”

  She shook her head. “That’s it for tonight.”

  “Good. Now you’ve earned the right to relax.” He handed her a snifter of brandy and led the way toward the loveseat. “Why don’t we sit over here?”

  As they settled themselves, it occurred to Colin that she took great pains not to touch him. That only made him more determined than ever to find out why.

  He fingered the afghan tossed carelessly over the back of the loveseat. It was as soft as an angel’s wings. “Did you make this, too?”

  She nodded. “It passes the time in the evenings.” She tried not to shiver as his fingers brushed a strand of her hair before he released the afghan to pick up his snifter.

  He smiled. “I’m sure I could think of plenty of ways to pass the time here.” Especially with the woman sitting beside him. If she knew what he was thinking, those pretty little cheeks would be bright red.

  He stretched out his feet toward the fire. “This is really nice. I bet you spend a lot of time here on cold winter nights.”

  “It’s one of my favorite spots in the house. Though in truth I have so many favorites, it’s hard to make a choice. I love my library. And there’s a wonderful little attic room that I’m thinking of turning into a sewing room, so I can get some of the clutter out of my bedroom.”

  She sipped the brandy and sighed. How long had it been since she’d sat in front of the fire with a snifter of brandy? A year, at least. And even longer since she’d done so with a handsome man beside her. She glanced over. “How did you get the job with the Yardleys? Did you have to submit a bid?”

  “No. A mutual friend recommended me. Bill and Sue drove up to Boston to see a sample of my work and hired me on the spot. I warned them it might take a while, since I was in the middle of a big project. But they were willing to wait.” He held her gaze. “And now that I’m here, I’m glad they did. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

  “Then you like Stafford?”

  “I like what I’ve seen so far.”

  He was doing it again. Staring at her the way a wolf might study a tasty lamb. To cover her nerves she stood and took a poker to the fire. “I hope you find time to explore the town. There are some really lovely old houses here. And the shops along Main Street aren’t just for the tourists. There are several really grand restaurants. And The Village Pub does a lively business. It’s where most of the townspeople go on a Friday night.”

  He set aside his snifter and stood. “Is that where you go, Lizbeth?”

  “Not often. I prefer my own company.” She set aside the poker and turned to find him standing directly beside her. She flushed. “Most people call me Beth. It’s just simpler than Lizbeth.”

  He reached a hand to her hair, needing to touch it. It was as soft as he’d imagined it would be. Like fine gold silk. He twisted a strand around his finger. “I think I prefer Lizbeth.”

  He saw the way her eyes widened and knew she was poised to run. Before she could he brought his hands to her shoulders and lowered his face to hers. “It just suits you.” He drew her closer. “Yes. Lizbeth definitely suits you.” He could feel the little ripples of shock and distress as she started to pull back. And though he knew better, he found he couldn’t resist brushing her lips with his.

  It was the merest touch of mouth to mouth. But it had wings of fear beating furiously in her chest. She made a sound that might have been pleasure or protest.

  He could taste her nerves. But he kept his eyes steady on hers. Kept his mouth on hers, unwilling to end the moment just yet.

  She was wonderful to watch. The way her eyes widened, before her lashes fluttered, then closed. The way her pale skin became infused with color. The way her breath became a soft sigh that whispered over his senses, making him want to draw out the moment even longer.

  There was such
sweetness in her. It was a sweetness a man could get lost in if he wasn’t very careful.

  He changed the angle of the kiss, still keeping it light. Suddenly a need he hadn’t expected caught him by surprise. A need to kiss her until they were both breathless.

  Not a good idea, he realized. If he did, she’d run like a rabbit, and that wall of reserve would be even higher.

  Reluctantly, he pulled back. The kiss ended as abruptly as it had begun.

  His voice was rougher than he’d intended. “I’ll say goodnight now, Lizbeth.”

  He saw the stunned look in her eyes before she composed herself.

  “Good night.”

  As he climbed the stairs, he realized he was sweating. And his hands on the rail were none too steady.

  What had just happened back there? It had started out as a whim, but had turned into something far different. A simple kiss had become something he wouldn’t easily forget. And all because of the sweet, hypnotic pull of Lizbeth Sullivan.

  Chapter 3

  Lizbeth squeezed orange juice and filled a crystal pitcher before placing it on a tray alongside the fresh fruit compote she’d assembled in a lovely ceramic bowl. Then she ground coffee beans and started the coffee maker, before opening the oven, where fresh biscuits were perfectly browned. Eggs sizzled on the stove, and crisp bacon drained on a paper towel.

  She was grateful for the work. It kept her from thinking, something she’d done too much of as she’d tossed and turned all night.

  What was wrong with her? Why had she permitted a simple kiss to become this earth-shattering event? It was, to her way of thinking, further proof of how pathetic her existence had become. She was twenty-eight years old. Twenty-eight, for heaven’s sake. And she could count the number of times she’d been kissed by a man.

  But none of them had ever been like that kiss last night. It had been much more than a kiss. To her way of thinking, a fall from a bridge into frigid water would have been less shocking. She’d been absolutely paralyzed. And after Colin had left, she’d been numb. Too numb to do more than sink down onto the loveseat and stare blindly at the fire, wondering if she’d imagined the entire thing.

  She paused. Her imagination wasn’t wild enough to have conjured such feelings. She’d been hot and cold and absolutely trembling. And all from a single kiss that had barely lasted more than a few seconds.

  She shook her head. Pathetic. But there it was. One kiss and she was reduced to the whims of raging teen hormones. What stung even more was the fact that Colin had been as cool as if he’d done nothing more than shake her hand.

  This was a new day, she reminded herself. A fresh start. And this time she’d act her age. She was almost thirty, a woman on her own for a long time now. If she could make her own way in the world, she could certainly deal with one handsome, charming guest who was probably indulging himself in nothing more than a harmless flirtation.

  She heard Colin’s footfall on the stairs and loaded breakfast on the serving cart before heading toward the dining room.

  “Good morning.” She breezed into the room and busied herself transferring the food from the cart to the table, proud of the fact that she’d given him barely a glance. But it had been enough to reveal that hard, muscled body she’d felt pressed to hers last night, encased in a flannel shirt and jeans. Why did he have to look so…potently male?

  “Morning.” He paused in the doorway and watched as she poured juice and coffee.

  She looked as fresh as the morning sunshine in a crisp yellow blouse and slim, ankle-length denim skirt. Her hair was held off her face with combs that were almost lost in a tumble of curls.

  She kept her face averted. “I hope you found your room comfortable.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” He moved closer and breathed her in. She smelled like a flower garden after a spring rain.

  “There are two newspapers available.” She lifted them from the serving cart and placed them beside his plate. “Our Stafford paper and a national newspaper, in case you don’t care for local news.”

  “Now what makes you think I wouldn’t care about local news?”

  She shrugged, still avoiding his eyes. “Not much happens in a town like Stafford.”

  “Really? Is that why you chose to settle here?”

  Stung by the truth she swiveled her head to find him watching her. She could feel the flush rising to her cheeks and cursed the fair skin that always seemed to give away her feelings. “I suppose that was part of its charm.”

  He merely smiled before taking his seat.

  When she uncovered a plate of bacon and eggs and cottage-fried potatoes, as well a basket of perfectly browned toast and biscuits, his smile grew. “You do know how to feed a guy, Lizbeth Sullivan.”

  “I’m glad you approve. I figured, since you’ll be doing hard, physical work, you’ll want to start with something substantial.”

  He dug in. After a moment he glanced up. “Aren’t you eating?”

  She poured herself coffee. “I’m just having a biscuit and jam. I’ll have a mid-morning snack with my neighbor when I bring her the date nut bread.”

  He glanced out the window. “Looks like it’s going to be a great day. I’m glad it isn’t raining. I plan to climb up on the Yardleys’ roof and have a look before I get my crew started.”

  “The roof?” She blanched, imagining how her heart would pound if she had to face such a daunting task.

  “It’s not so bad. I’ve worked on buildings ten times as high. If you’re working, you never think about the height.”

  “Maybe you don’t. I would never be so busy that I could forget I was on someone’s roof.”

  He chuckled. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ll admit that I prefer to do my work indoors. With floors under my feet and walls around me. But I’ve spent plenty of time crawling around attics, through basements, over roofs. Whatever it takes to get the job done.”

  He polished off the last of his eggs and sat back, draining his coffee. “This was a great workingman’s breakfast. I think I’m ready to tackle the day now.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  When he pushed away from the table Lizbeth retrieved a thermal packet from the serving cart and handed it to him.

  He arched a brow. “What’s this?”

  “Your lunch.” She saw the quirk of his lips and said primly, “You’re paying for your meals. I expect after a morning of crawling around the Yardleys’ attic, roof and basement, you’ll be glad to have it.”

  “Thanks. I’m not ungrateful. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting this kind of service.”

  “There’s more.” She handed him a thermal coffee dispenser.

  At his look she said, “Whenever I’ve had workmen here, they always seem to drink gallons of coffee. I figure you’ll go through this before noon.”

  He grinned. “You’re going to spoil me.” He tucked it under his arm as he headed for the door.

  She saw him pick up a pair of work boots and carry them to the back door. Once outside, he paused to put them on before heading for his truck.

  As he drove away she took a deep, calming breath and congratulated herself. She thought that had gone quite well.

  Then, as she went about cleaning up the breakfast dishes, she gave herself a good talking to. She was going to have to stop reacting like a schoolgirl every time Colin came near. She paused to hold out her hands. They were trembling. And her palms were sweating.

  She shook her head and began to laugh as she pushed the serving cart toward the kitchen. She really did need to find something challenging to occupy her mind. Otherwise, she was apt to replay that kiss a hundred more times. Something she definitely couldn’t afford to do if she wanted to accomplish anything this day.

  Colin unhooked his tool belt and made his way to his truck. The crew had been gone for almost an hour, but he’d lingered, making some sketches of the latest changes the Yardleys had requested. He wasn’t surprised by the newest changes. Most people had an ide
a of what they wanted when they hired an architect. But once they saw the possibilities, they often came up with half a dozen more things they couldn’t live without.

  As he settled himself in the driver’s seat he paused to study the house. It had the solid, sturdy feel of New England, with a high-pitched roof topped by an ancient weathervane. There had been additions to it through the years. A bedroom here, a library there. An entire wing had been added a generation ago. And the upper floor which had once been a large, dormitory bedroom was now an office shared by both Bill and Sue, who were graphic artists. But it had lost some of its style, becoming a hodgepodge of rooms and rooflines that needed to be pulled together into one cohesive unit.

  Colin turned the key and drove along the graceful sweep of circular driveway. As the truck slowly traversed the short block to the Stafford Cottage, he drank in the sights and sounds of the small town.

  A young mother pushed a stroller while a toddler on a tricycle pumped his little legs furiously to keep pace beside her. A girl of about thirteen took advantage of the sunshine to walk a fluffy white dog on a leash, while two teenage boys who’d been shooting hoops paused to watch admiringly. Some things never changed, Colin thought with a grin.

  As he reached the end of the lane he turned into the driveway of Stafford Cottage and climbed down from his truck. He paused at the back door to remove his work boots, and halted when he heard a voice.

  Peering around the back of the house he saw Lizbeth removing sheets from a clothesline. It looked like a scene from another era. Colin found himself staring as avidly as those teenage boys. She made quite a picture. Hair the color of moon-beams danced in the breeze and kissed her cheeks. The hem of her skirt fluttered and her blouse pulled free of her waistband as she reached for yet another billowing sheet. While she folded it into a huge wicker basket she carried on a conversation with a fat cat curled along the top rail of the fence.

  “You’re glad to see the sun, aren’t you, Brandi? I bet you were giving Loretta all kinds of grief during our spell of rain last week.”