by JoAnn Durgin
“No,” he said, shaking his head and giving her an exaggerated wink, “but don’t take too long. Seriously, I’d very much like you to meet them—and the other way around—and give you the grand tour of London. I know you’d love it.”
“I’m sure I would,” she said. An all-expenses paid trip to London with a handsome Brit beside her as a tour guide? Maybe it’ll help me make my decision between these two men, but if Kevin found out—especially after I told him I wasn’t going to London with Adam—that would hurt him. Even if she dumped Adam after the fact, that would be it for Kevin. The frown returned. No, she couldn’t take that chance.
“Perhaps selfishly, I was rather hoping my new project might entice you to take the leap across the pond, so to speak.” He tilted his head, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth.
That statement brought his earlier comment to mind. “Adam, tell me something.”
“Anything, lovely. Name it.” He sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes trained on her.
She hesitated, momentarily distracted by how handsome he was. Focus. “Tell me why you started this new project. I mean, it’s terrific, but I know you already have a number of other worthwhile causes to keep you busy in addition to your investment work.”
The slightest frown creased his brow, and he didn’t answer right away. Interesting for a man who usually had all the right answers with no hesitation whatsoever. “I want to help others less fortunate, of course, and be able to utilize the resources I’ve been given in order to benefit someone else.”
She nodded. Very practiced answer but not the one I need to hear. “That’s very admirable.”
Adam didn’t speak until she looked up and met his gaze. “Let’s just say the primary reason is because it’s also an investment in the future, Becks.” He reached for her hand again but thankfully kept his touch light as he put his hand over hers. “A much more personal investment.”
Not sure how to respond, Rebekah nodded and took a sip of her water, lowering her eyes. She couldn’t very well mistake his meaning with that last statement.
Walking beside her, his hand on her elbow as they departed the restaurant, Adam steered her in the direction of a nearby park. They sat on a stone bench and watched several swans on the crystal clear lake. Seeing her shiver and pull her lightweight wrap around her shoulders, Adam put his arm around her, drawing her close.
“I’ve always loved the swans,” she said, watching them glide over the water. “They’re so graceful. Serene.”
“You’re like a swan, you know.” Adam tapped her chin before giving her a light kiss. “My beautiful Becks.”
“Adam, why do you call me Becks instead of Rebekah?”
Her question appeared to take him by surprise, but as usual, he recovered quickly and gave her a dazzling smile. “It’s simply a form of endearment. Not that your given name isn’t perfectly—”
“Lovely?” She grinned, shaking her head.
“Don’t you like it?” He leaned in for another kiss, but she turned aside and his lips landed on her cheek instead.
“It’s fine. I just wondered.” She reached for his hand again, squeezing it, and they sat in companionable silence for a minute. “Tell me something else. Do you ever break a sweat? You know, roll up your sleeves and do manual labor?” That sounded ridiculous, but she had an overpowering urge to hear Adam’s answer to that one.
He pulled back, wry amusement lighting his eyes and upturning the corners of his mouth. “Another intriguing question. If you’d like, I suppose I could demonstrate my strength by lifting weights for you on our next outing. Or pressing some benches, or whatever it is you do in that health club of yours.”
Adam looked away a moment, but she caught his grin and thought he said something under his breath about better ways to work up a sweat. Patting the bench beneath them, he chuckled. “I could offer to lift this heavy chunk of stone to impress you. However, I don’t fancy breaking my back in the process.”
Rebekah shook her head. “This new organization you’re developing, the one like TeamWork. . .” She turned to face him. “Can you see yourself getting on your knees in the dirt, using tools and wearing old clothes and—”
“Becks, is this some type of test?”
Her eyes widened. The man was perceptive. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it quite that way.”
“To answer your question, it’s not my favorite thing, no, although I’ve been known to break a sweat on occasion. I own a pair or two of denims and even a T-shirt. Power tools have never been on my Christmas wish list but if it’s something that would make you happy, I’m certainly willing to have a go at it and pray I don’t sever something I shouldn’t.” He met her eyes. “Anything for you, lovely.”
When Adam drove her back home an hour later, she looked out the window, lost in thought. She sensed his disappointment when she didn’t invite him inside. Her brain was muddled, and she needed private time to think.
“Come give us a kiss, Becks,” Adam said, his voice low and enticing, pulling her as close as possible in the confines of the seats of the classic Austin Healey sports car. As his lips moved over hers, Rebekah opened her eyes, staring at that mole. I must be incredibly vain. This from the girl who rued the day God made her halfway attractive to the opposite sex. It brought undue attention and complications she didn’t want. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on pouring her energies into kissing Adam with the care and attention he deserved. Laughter rumbled in her belly and made its way upward. Eyes wide, she clamped a hand over her mouth.
“I’m trying to be romantic here,” he grumbled. “Perhaps you could meet me halfway?”
“I’m sorry.” How many times had she already said that to him today? Smoothing her hands over her dress, she didn’t dare look at him for fear the sight of that mole would prompt another fit of laughter. “I warned you I’m out of sorts today.”
“Well, it’s quite obvious you’ve got something on your mind. Let me walk you to the door.” He adjusted his collar and prepared to open the car door.
“No,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “Let’s just say good-bye here. I had a wonderful time. It was very special. Thank you.”
His eyes met hers, more disappointment evident in the downturn of his lips. “When you’re ready to share with me, I’m willing to listen.”
“I know.” When she put her hand on the car door, it was Adam’s turn to touch her arm.
“I do love you madly, Becks. You’re a great girl.” The way he said it sounded like “gull.” Pronunciation aside, he was sincere. At least in his own mind, Adam thought he meant it.
She kissed his cheek. “You’re too good to me. I don’t deserve you.”
He hopped out of the car and hurried to her side of the car, waiting as she climbed out before handing her the bouquet of yellow roses. He kissed her cheek and she spied Mrs. Michelson staring from her living room window. With a sigh, she watched Adam climb back into his car and wave, blowing her a kiss.
Walking slowly into the house, Rebekah thought over the events and conversation of the afternoon. It was true, what she’d told him. Adam deserved someone who loved him. She loved him but she wasn’t in love. Big difference. They were talking about two different types of love, and the love she felt for Adam wasn’t the marrying kind. At least not now. But could it one day grow into that kind of love? He seemed devoted to her, enough to start an organization like TeamWork overseas. Was it egotistical to think he’d done such a thing with the express purpose of enticing her into marrying him and ‘making the leap over the pond’ as he put it? It was a wonderful gesture but whether she should be flattered or pressured was the question.
Adam was the type to organize and lead a project; Kevin the type of man to roll his sleeves and do the physical labor. And while she couldn’t deny she enjoyed Adam’s kisses, they didn’t send shivers from her head to her toes like Kevin’s kisses always did. Again with the comparisons.
Closing her front door, it didn’
t groan in protest, but she did. “Lord, what am I going to do?” She dropped into a chair in the living room, her mind swirling with thoughts as she pulled off her shoes and removed her sweater. Slumping against the back of the chair, Rebekah raised her face to the ceiling and closed her eyes. Saying a prayer comforted her in most cases, but she was so agitated at the moment, she couldn’t concentrate.
Adam was getting ready to propose again soon; it was as inevitable as their next date being a quiet lunch in another expensive French restaurant. What about Kevin? In his case, it might not matter because she’d probably be middle-aged before he’d try to take their relationship to the next level.
This was pointless. Slapping her hand on the arm of the chair, she rose to her feet with new resolve and padded down the hallway to her bedroom. First, she’d change into her comfiest pair of jeans and her favorite Saints T-shirt. Then she’d do some serious multi-tasking. She could call a few of the girls and apologize for missing the “spa” event, ask how it went and schedule a special brunch. Or, if they were free, they could come over to the house tonight for popcorn and a movie.
One thing was certain: she needed to do something to get her mind off the two men in her life. Fat chance of that happening. Still, staying home tonight sounded more promising by the minute.
Chapter 24
Winnie held the kitchen door as Cassie Thorenson, Gayle Ferrari and Marta Holcomb piled out of Cassie’s Saab early in the afternoon and breezed past her.
“The TeamWork crew to the rescue again. Thanks, ladies. You’re an answer to prayer,” Lexa told them, grabbing a quick hug from each of the girls. It was amazing she stopped long enough. The woman was an octopus-armed marvel and they’d both been a whirlwind of activity. At times, Winnie paused in her work, watching the braided wonder in action.
Winnie winked at Cassie. “When you signed up for TeamWork, you didn’t know you’d be signing up for this kind of mission, did you?” The auburn-haired girl with the sweet Alabama drawl had first joined them in Montana, saying Marc and Natalie’s was the most romantic story she’d ever heard. Next to Lexa and Sam’s, Winnie couldn’t agree more.
“A fancy gig at one of the swankiest hotels in Houston? We wouldn’t miss it,” Marta said. “We’ve got our server uniforms in the car—black pants, vests and white blouses, just like you ordered—um, requested.” She giggled and shot a look at Gayle.
“We’ve got Doyle-Clarke Catering smocks for each of you, too,” Lexa said, already back at work, garnishing appetizers. “Don’t let me forget to give them to you before we leave the house later.”
Marta swiped a bacon-wrapped sausage and frowned when Winnie slapped her hand with a chastising glance. “What, we don’t get to sample? And I thought Mother Hen patted hands, not slapped.”
Would she never break free from that nickname? Not that she minded. Winnie gave Marta’s cheek a light pinch, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy. She’d always wanted blonde curls like this and the newest TeamWork volunteer’s unbelievable, violet-colored eyes complemented her fair complexion and short, tousled curls to perfection. “It’s also a Mother Hen’s job to keep her impertinent kids in line.”
“Okay, ladies, you get five samples each, but that’s it,” Lexa said. “You can eat later tonight in shifts once all the guests have been served. Otherwise, help yourself to whatever you want from the fridge. Anytime you need anything or have a question, just ask.”
“You can’t blame us for wanting to nibble,” Cassie said with a grin. “Everything smells so good in here. It would be torture. We want to be able to rave about your cooking and sampling is the best way.” She burst out laughing at Lexa’s expression.
“Cassie’s right,” Gayle said. “Besides, we might be asked the ingredients and need to know what to tell people.” Popping something in her mouth, the green-eyed redhead shot Winnie a closed-mouth grin.
Lexa shook her head but the corners of her mouth twitched as she finished the last appetizer and started on a second tray. “Any excuse will do, I suppose. Knock yourself out, kids.”
“Were you able to get some more last-minute help from the agency?” Marta asked as she bit into a stuffed mushroom. “Now, this right here is my new favorite.” She licked her lips. “Absolutely delicious.”
“The agency promised four servers and we’re blessed to get them on a busy Saturday night,” Winnie said. “If we can pull this off, it’ll be great for our business.” Not wanting to consider the alternative, she finished counting slices of caramel cheesecake on a nearby tray. “Let’s do everything we can to make this work. Not to mention you’ll have our undying devotion the rest of our natural lives for helping us out.”
“Always the cheerleader,” Marta said, giving her a wink. She headed to the sink to wash her hands, followed by the other two girls. “You’d better give us something to do before Lexa gets after us. She’s got that look in her eye.”
Lexa laughed and gestured for them to join her in the breakfast nook. “First, we pray, and then you wash your hands. Come on.” They gathered in a small circle and bowed their heads. Winnie prayed first and they each said a short prayer, ending with Lexa. “Amen,” she said. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart, ladies.”
“What happened with the original caterer?” Cassie asked, taking the apron Winnie handed to her, tying it in back and then helping Gayle do the same.
“They had some kind of unexpected disaster with their ovens,” Lexa said, setting bowls and whisks in front of Gayle and Cassie. “Here, whisk away.” She nodded to Winnie. “Why don’t you give them their assignments for this afternoon?” Handing Marta an apron, she led her over to the stove to chop vegetables.
After a quick rundown of instructions and what they could expect throughout the course of the day, Winnie put the clipboard on the counter. “Any questions?”
“I have one,” Marta said, pausing her work and looking over her shoulder. “I’d like to meet that tall, blond drink of water I saw out in the living room with Sam. I saw him through the front window when we pulled into the driveway. He’s the most gorgeous guy I’ve seen in ages. Who is he, Lexa?”
Winnie stiffened, and Lexa darted a look that said I’ll handle this one.
“Sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Marta looked from one to the other.
“Of course not,” Lexa said. “He’s one of our TeamWork volunteers visiting from Louisiana, but we haven’t seen him in a few years. He’s been busy getting his law degree and building his practice.”
Cassie stopped whisking. “Oh, is that Josh Grant? I love Rebekah and I was hoping to meet him sometime.”
“None other,” Winnie murmured, half under her breath.
“The twin, eh? The plot thickens.” Marta caught Winnie’s glance. “So, I take it he’s off-limits?” A coy smile hovered at the corners of her mouth.
“Yes.” No one was more surprised than Winnie by the firmness of her response.
She avoided her catering partner’s knowing smile as Lexa brought over a tray of empty tarts ready to be filled. “Busy yourself, ladies.”
~~**~~
Even if Winnie wanted to talk earlier in the day, she couldn’t since the ladies were so busy. Josh lost track of how many times he’d thanked the Lord for that other poor caterer’s unfortunate circumstances. Although he’d told Winnie he’d stay away, it seemed the Lord had His own agenda. He’d made himself as indispensable and helpful as possible, going with Sam to the wholesale grocery and otherwise staying out of the kitchen. It thrilled him beyond measure when he learned Chloe was in the house.
Together with Sam, he spent a majority of the day taking the two kids to the park, then to lunch, and finally for ice cream at Richardson’s where Bea treated him like royalty—especially when she saw him with Chloe. Joe slept through most of it, but Josh took mental notes by watching Sam, asking lots of questions. True to form, Sam answered them all and he caught his smile more than once. The first time Chloe slipped her hand into his, he thought his heart
would burst. He couldn’t remember anything in his life giving him such a sense of pride. Not the college degree, not the law degree, not his most successful merger or acquisition. By the time they returned to the house midafternoon—mentally and emotionally exhausted—he was ready to take a nap with them until Sam told him it was time to get ready to help the ladies since they’d been drafted into service again.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Sam asked.
“Don’t even need to ask. This day just keeps getting better.” Josh finished buttoning his shirt and darted a glance at his friend, mirror images of one another. He tugged on the waistband of the slacks. “Something about wearing your pants suddenly makes me feel much more powerful, Mr. Lewis.”
Sam shot him the kind of wry grin he’d missed the last few years. “Try not to drag them in the mud, will you?”
He laughed. “I’ll try my best. How does the bowtie look? Is it straight?”
“I’m not touching it.” Sam raised both hands in the air. “Go ask Winnie. Nothing like a woman with her hands around your neck to get the sparks going.”
Don’t I know it. That was the very image he hadn’t been able to shake when he tried to sleep the night before. “It really doesn’t take much for you, does it? I hope you and the Mrs. will be able to control yourselves tonight.”
“You’ll see what I mean,” Sam told him with a wink. “Take my advice and go see Winnie.”
“I accept that challenge.” The worst that could happen was she’d say no and avoid him all night.
Sam clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Let me know how it works out. But first,” he said, retrieving a vest and handing it to him, “the last piece of the official waiter wardrobe.”
“Aw, man,” Josh said. “Why do we have to dress like penguins?”
“Trust me on this one, too,” Sam said. “The vest works its own unique charm. Women like to see their men dressed up. They seem to find it sexy for some reason.” Catching his look, he shrugged. “I heard it straight from Lexa.”