At the River’s Edge

by Mariah Stewart

“I guess the kitchen.” She led the way. “I hope paper plates are okay?”

  “Since I usually eat mine right out of the box, that would be an upgrade.” He put the box on the table.

  “Sit.” She motioned to one of the chairs before opening the refrigerator. “We only have water to drink, as far as I can see.”

  “Water’s fine. I have beer at the house, if you’d rather. I could run home and …”

  “No, no. Water’s pretty much my beverage of choice these days anyway.” She got two paper plates and a stack of napkins and placed them on the table.

  He took a seat, then opened the box, and the steamy aroma filled the room.

  “I had no idea I was this hungry.” She sat across from him at the small table and peered into the open box. “Veggie pizza? Really?”

  “What?” Jason frowned. “What’s wrong with veggie pizza?”

  “I had you pegged for a pepperoni kind of guy. Maybe sausage and peppers. Eggplant, purple onions, dried cherries, and arugula seems a stretch.” She picked up a slice and sniffed. “Is that goat cheese?”

  “I thought you might like this better than pepperoni.”

  She put the slice on her plate. “I thought you picked it up, then drove by and stopped because you saw my car.”

  “I may have had that slightly out of order. I may have driven past first.” He took a bite, chewed, then nodded. “It’s better than I expected it to be.”

  Sophie laughed. “You ordered a pizza you didn’t think you’d like because you thought I’d like it?”

  “Okay, so I saw your car and figured you were working late. I called Dominic’s and asked him to make something a little out of the ordinary. This is what he made.”

  Sophie grinned. “And if I’d been gone by the time you got back here?”

  “I’d be at home, picking off the dried cherries by myself.”

  Still smiling, Sophie passed her plate to him. “I’ll take them. You want my eggplant?”

  “Nah, I’m good, but thanks.”

  “This was really nice,” she told him. “Thank you. I’m really glad you stopped by.”

  “So am I.”

  “Oh, water.” Sophie got up and took two bottles of spring water from the fridge and handed one to Jason.

  “Thanks. Now, how was the family reunion yesterday?”

  “Oh, it was a lot of fun. It’s so interesting how people who are related can be so much alike, even if they didn’t know each other growing up.”

  “Give me a for instance.” He finished his first slice and went back for a second.

  “Well, Zoey works for one of the shopping networks on TV, and she does a lot of the cooking shows. She’s apparently become quite the gourmet.”

  “Is that your way of telling me you’re a gourmet cook?”

  “Actually, I am. If you’re nice to me, I might even cook something special for you sometime.”

  “I am nice to you.” He pointed to the pizza box.

  “So you are. As soon as I get my stuff unpacked, I’ll prove just how good I am.”

  “You’re on.”

  “Seriously. I’m really a very good cook. I’m going to open a restaurant.”

  “I’ll be your first customer.”

  “That would be my mother.”

  “Ah, your mother … fascinating woman. We had quite an interesting chat the other night.”

  “What exactly did she say?”

  “Just stuff.” His lips curved into a smile.

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “Just stuff like how happy she is that you’re moving here, stuff like that.”

  “Not ‘I hope my girl meets a nice young man so she can settle down like her brother has’?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Arrgghhh.” Sophie covered her face with her hands.

  “It wasn’t too bad.” Jason laughed. “Really. And she was charming about it.”

  “I’m sure she was. Mom can ooze charm when she wants to, which makes her quite the formidable courtroom opponent. I’d hate to have to go up against her.”

  “Well, you can’t blame her for wanting you to be happy. She did say she was glad that you and Jesse have gotten close to your grandfather, though.”

  “Speaking of whom, did you see him today?”

  “No, I was working on something else.” He picked up his water bottle, then hesitated before he took a sip. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, no. I was just wondering. Both he and I all but passed out yesterday after everyone left, he in his chair and me on the sofa. If the caterer hadn’t made so much noise leaving, I might still be there.”

  “I’ll be there tomorrow for a while. I’m having some shrubs delivered and will get them planted.”

  “How do you know where to put things? How do you know what it will look like in another year? Or in five or ten years?”

  “You learn by studying, just like you learn anything else. With plants, you study their growth patterns and you know what they’ll look like at different stages, how big they’ll get, how their needs for sun or shade and water will change as they grow.” He took a long drink of water. “I was lucky that after Eric went into the service, I was hired by a guy in Florida who did a lot of restoration work. He taught me a lot, encouraged me to go to school. The local community college had courses in landscaping, so I signed up for those. So I had both the theoretical and the hands-on education going for me when my boss retired and I went into business for myself.” He put the cap back on the bottle. “Well, for Eric and me. He was going to partner with me when he got home, put up half the money for the start-up. After he died, I felt obligated to pay Brooke back for Eric’s investment, so I sold the company and came here to pay her in person.”

  “And you stayed.”

  “Yes, I stayed. Logan’s here,” he said simply. “I saw a need for the kind of work that I do, so I decided that St. Dennis was as good a place as any to start over.”

  “I’m glad you did,” she heard herself say.

  “So am I.” He reached across the table to touch her fingers with his. “So what’s your story? Why did you decide to pick up and move here?”

  “Family guilt, for one, but it was more than that. Jesse was in over his head with work and really did need me. I’ve been a prosecutor for eight years and I was ready for a change.” She was tempted to tell him about Chris, then decided against it. Lately, Chris hadn’t seemed quite as important as he once had.

  “So is this the change you were looking for?”

  “I’ve only been here for a few days, but I think it’s going to be fine. I like the town, I like the people I’ve met. I like the vibe here.” She smiled. “And I think I’ll like the work once I get this place organized. Speaking of which, I should get back to it.”

  “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No, thanks. I’d think you’d be tired by …” She glanced at her watch. “Is it really eight o’clock?”

  “Ten after,” he told her.

  She stood and cleared away the plates and the empty pizza box. “Thanks so much, Jason. I think I probably would have just kept on going and wouldn’t have stopped until I passed out from hunger.”

  “Way to give Violet a heart attack in the morning.” He pushed back his chair. “Do you have much else to do tonight?”

  “I do, but I think I’m going to let it go. There were some boxes I was going to bring back, but my arms are starting to feel like noodles.” She let them hang straight down. “I’m afraid I’m out of shape.”

  “Your shape looks just fine to me.”

  “Two compliments in three days,” she mused. “Keep it up and I might start forgetting that I’m a lawyer.”

  “Speaking of which … how many lawyers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?”

  “Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Three. One to climb the ladder, one to shake it, and one to sue the ladder company. Old as the hills.”

  “I gotta find some better materia
l,” Jason muttered. “So where are the boxes you need moved?”

  “In Jesse’s office, but you don’t have to …” Too late. Jason was out the door, down the hall, and into Jesse’s office.

  “These on the floor?” he called back to her.

  “Yes. The ones …”

  “Where do you want them?” He was carrying them, one on top of the other.

  “In here.” She showed him into the new file room. “Anyplace is fine. Thank you.”

  “Two more. Be right back.”

  She liked the way he moved, all easy saunter, like he had all night.

  “This should do it.” He returned with the remaining boxes and put them down on the floor next to the others.

  “Thank you so much. I’d been reduced to pushing them all the way from the front of the office and it was taking me forever.” She leaned back against the filing cabinet. “You’ve saved me about a half hour, not to mention my back and my arms.”

  He took two steps toward her, took her hands and drew them upward until they rested on his neck, then lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. As kissers went, she thought, Jason was an A-plus. The tickle she felt whenever he got too close was more like an electric charge that went straight to her gut. By the time she caught her breath, he’d eased away from her, but her face still felt the brush of his five o’clock shadow and her heart was still racing.

  “How ’bout I help you lock up?” His hands had slid to her waist as if they belonged there.

  “You don’t have to …”

  “It’s dark, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around.”

  He planted one soft kiss on her forehead, then took her by the hand. On their way out of the room, Sophie turned off the light.

  “I just have Jesse’s room and the kitchen to close up,” she said.

  “I’ll take care of the kitchen.”

  He let go of her hand and walked to the back of the hall while she went to the front. She restacked a pile she’d knocked over earlier, picked up three files she’d decided she’d need to read through before acting on the most recent correspondence, and swung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. Then she snapped off the office light, as well as the overhead in the reception area, and took the key from her bag.

  “Got everything?” Jason asked, and she nodded.

  She locked the door behind them and he followed her to her car, opening the door for her so she could drop the files on the backseat.

  “Thanks again for everything,” Sophie said. “For dinner, for helping move stuff …”

  “Any time.” He brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do. I usually knock off work around six thirty or seven.”

  “Will do.” She got into her car and he closed the door. “I’ll let you know when I get my kitchen stuff unpacked so I can show off my skills. I promise you’ll be knocked out.”

  He leaned in through the car window and kissed her on the lips. “I already am.”

  Chapter 17

  “DID you have a pizza delivered last night?” was the first thing Violet asked when she came into the office on Tuesday morning.

  “Sort of.” Sophie looked up from the file she was reading. “Jason stopped by on his way home from picking one up and he offered to share it with me.”

  “That was nice of him.” Violet stood in the doorway for a moment.

  Sophie assumed she was waiting for her to say something, so she did. “Yes, very nice.”

  “He’s a nice boy,” Violet added.

  Was there any point in reminding Violet that Jason was thirtysomething and no longer qualified for boy status? Probably not. Besides, everything was relative.

  “Yes, he is. Very nice.”

  “I know your grandfather is very fond of him, too,” Violet persisted.

  “I assumed. Jason’s doing a lot of work at Pop’s.”

  “And doing quite a fine job. Your grandfather is very pleased.”

  “Good. I want him to be happy.” Sophie went into Jesse’s office and surveyed the floor. She selected a stack of case files at random and carried them to her office. The light in her small room in the back was better, she told herself, softer, and the chair was more comfortable. Then, too, there was the matter of Jesse’s desk being too cluttered to spread out another file.

  She read through the case, found the information she was looking for, made the calls Jesse had wanted her to make, then jotted down a few notes for the file. She worked her way through the stack, then took a five-minute break to take a call from Cameron.

  “Hey, Ellie tells me you’re buying the old Walsh place. Cool.”

  “It is pretty cool.” Sophie smiled. “We go to settlement one week from today.”

  “And you think it might need some work?”

  “I know it does. It’s just a matter of how much and what it will cost. I was hoping you could help me out on both counts.”

  “Absolutely. When can we get in to take a look?”

  “At your earliest convenience. I have a key,” she explained.

  “How about tomorrow afternoon around four?”

  “Perfect. I’ll meet you there. You know where it is, right?”

  “Sure. Everyone knows Walsh’s.”

  Sophie tapped her pen on the blotter after they ended the call, thinking she’d have to come up with a name for the place, and soon. She couldn’t keep calling it “the old Walsh’s” or “the restaurant.”

  At one, she ate the lunch she’d brought from home, changed her clothes, and resumed the task of sorting through files and putting closed cases in the new file room. Violet left at five, and at five thirty, she started to glance out the front window every fifteen minutes. It wasn’t until seven that she admitted she’d been watching for Jason, and it took her another twenty minutes to own up to the fact that she’d been hoping he’d stop in. His help aside—if not for him, she’d probably be in traction from lugging all those heavy files from one end of the office to the other—she found that the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. She liked the fact that he was thoughtful of not only her, but her grandfather and his nephew as well. That family meant a lot to him. That he made her smile, made her laugh … and oh, yes, made her heart race and her knees weak. Made her want more when he kissed her.

  Funny, she thought, as she prepared to close the office for the night, but when she broke up with Christopher, the last thing she wanted was another relationship. He’d burned her so badly, she’d thought it would be forever before she’d be able to trust anyone again—before she’d even want to trust another man again, before she’d want another man to touch her. And yet here she was, a mere three months later, watching the street and watching the time, disappointed that Jason hadn’t stopped in again tonight. Not that he was obligated to, of course, but still … it would have been nice to see him again tonight.

  She gathered her things and went through the office, turning off the lights. Maybe tomorrow night, she thought as she locked the front door.

  A girl could hope.

  Jason stood at the take-out counter of the new Thai restaurant and scanned the menu for what seemed like the fiftieth time. Thai Gardens was a new place, located on the highway just outside of town, but a woman he’d chatted with at Walt’s last Friday night mentioned that the food was really good there. At the time, he doubted she’d talked it up so that he could buy dinner for someone else, since she’d clearly been wrangling for a dinner date, but the obvious type had never interested him. Actually, Jason had no type. He’d dated women of different sizes and shapes and hair coloring, athletic women and couch potatoes, smart women and women who were … well, endowed in other ways.

  There were times when he almost wished he did have a type: it might have made it easier to know what he was looking for. Up until recently, he hadn’t really been aware that he was looking. But it occurred to him that he was over thirty, a small business owner—and now a property owner—so he’d c
rossed a lot off his “to do” list, and maybe it just followed that meeting the right woman should be next.

  But lately, it seemed he’d been interested in only one woman, and he wasn’t sure how to go about pursuing her. For one thing, she was his friend’s younger sister, and he’d learned back in high school that dating a friend’s little sister could have repercussions. For another, Jason and the grandfather of the lady in question had a relationship that he’d hate to see ruined if, for example, he was dating the granddaughter and things turned out badly. Still, there really wasn’t anyone else who’d caught his eye the way Sophie Enright had, and while he wasn’t much of a gambler, there was something about her that made him believe it was worth a try.

  So here he stood, trying to decide between the Panang Curry, the Pad Thai, and the Kao Pad Saparod. The last sounded the most exotic—chicken with jasmine rice stir-fried with pineapple—but he didn’t know Sophie well enough to know if it would appeal to her. It sounded good, though, so he ordered it and the Pad Thai, which he’d had once before and liked. He took a seat and waited for the food to be prepared, and twenty-five minutes later, he walked out with a brown bag of aromatic goodies in the crook of his arm.

  He drove into town and headed straight for the office on the corner of Old St. Mary’s Church Road. He came to a stop in front of the building, his heart sinking when he realized the office was dark. He got out of his car and checked around the side, just in case Sophie was working in her office toward the back, but there were no lights on. He could have kicked himself for having wasted so much time scrutinizing the menu and deliberating—his mother would have said “dillydallying”—over what to order. He walked back to his truck and thought about driving past Sophie’s house, but he wondered if that might seem too much like stalking.

  Either way, he’d struck out. He got back into the cab of the pickup and drove home, hoping he liked what he bought, because it looked like he’d be eating Thai for the rest of the week.

  Sophie could barely contain herself on Wednesday morning, knowing that she’d be meeting with Cam and Ellie to go through the restaurant that afternoon. She tried to play down her excitement when she mentioned it to Violet, who was fixing her morning tea in the kitchen.