“It’s vacation, remember? Carbs don’t count.” He put a roll on his own plate and slathered butter on it.
“Speaking of which”—she pointed vaguely toward his chest—“how are you doing without your beeper lifeline?”
He raised his eyebrows mischievously. “Just fine, thanks.”
“You’re not even twitching. How can you stand it?”
“Apparently I’m distracted enough that I haven’t even noticed.” His foot found hers under the table, and she felt herself blush.
“That’s very flattering. Thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though. Is it driving you just a little bit crazy to not check in?”
Joshua looked around the room for a long moment, then met her eyes. “Honestly? I expected it to … but it isn’t. I haven’t had this much fun disconnecting in a long, long time.”
“Well.” She swallowed, feeling heat build between them. “That’s good, then.”
“How about you? You do just as much dawn-to-dusk stuff as I do, at least since I’ve known you. How does it feel for you to get free of the office?”
“When I’m not getting dunked, it feels great. I could totally live in the cabin for a week, I’m afraid.”
“You wouldn’t miss work?”
Delaney felt her nose wrinkle as she shook her head. “It’s funny, and please don’t be a big dork and say I told you so or something—but after spending the past two weeks on pediatrics, I miss that more right now than my own job.”
“Well, I imagine the change of pace has been nice, if nothing else.”
“Sure”—she set down her roll—“but it’s a lot more than that. Even though I feel like a poser, there’s a weird sense of—I don’t know—connecting. I don’t get that upstairs. I feel almost—useful.” She shook her head. “Never mind. That sounds silly.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I’m plenty useful upstairs. I’m very useful. But it’s a different feeling. I like it.”
“More than you thought you would?”
She nodded. “Oh, definitely.”
“Ever think maybe you’d like to change gears and do something besides finance? Someday, maybe?”
“Yes? No?” She took a deep breath. “I’ve always felt like finance was—I don’t know—kind of my cop-out. I know objectively, I’m providing a valuable service, but at the end of the day, I don’t really go home and say ‘Hey, I actually touched somebody’s life today,’ you know?”
He paused. “What if you get the CFO position when Gregory retires?”
She looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged carefully. “I’ve seen a lot of people come through my floor since I started. Some of them were born to love pediatrics, and a lot of them weren’t. I have to say, I’d put you pretty firmly in the first group.”
“Well, I have a lot of reasons to love it, obviously.”
“Maybe, but losing a little brother a long time ago doesn’t necessarily set somebody up to be a natural at it. You are definitely a natural.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. Delaney, how many times did you laugh this week?”
“I don’t know.” She smiled. “A lot.”
“And how many times do you laugh—generally—up in the executive suite?”
“I don’t. But why would I, really?”
He reached out and squeezed her hand, but didn’t let go. “Which job is more fun?”
“That’s obvious, but you can’t really choose a job for the fun factor, Joshua.”
“Why not?”
She tipped her head. “Be serious. I have goals, a mission—bills to pay. Important work to do.”
“But maybe you, too, have a balance issue?”
Just then the waiter arrived with their dinners, saving her from answering for a few minutes. Once they’d both had a few bites, Joshua looked at her while he wound fettuccine around his fork. The table candle made his eyes sparkle, and her own eyes caught on his lips—lips she hoped would be keeping her awake later.
She got a nervous tingle as she thought about actually spending the night together, but the more time she spent with him, the more she couldn’t wait to be done with dinner so they could make their way back to the cabin—to the gorgeous brass bed with the pieced quilt laid on top.
* * *
Later, as the sun set over the water, Josh lit the citronella candles placed along the cabin’s dock, then sat back down in an Adirondack chair next to Delaney. He caught her profile in the golden sunlight and had to pinch himself. He’d spent the entire day in a state of heightened awareness of—everything. The sun was hotter, the water was cooler, the sky was bluer, and even the sound of the crickets warming up in the meadow behind the cabin was—sweeter.
He’d never heard a sound he liked better than Delaney’s laughter, and the day had been full of it. Whether he’d been dunking her in the water, or tickling her on the dock, or getting lost twice on dirt roads before they’d found Luciano’s, he’d loved every second of being with her.
And now, here she was, eyes closed, head back against the chair, sunlight kissing the tips of her eyelashes as her breaths made her chest rise and fall in a slow, contented rhythm.
He could hardly believe she was here with him. Could hardly believe he was here at all. Sure, he’d done a B and B weekend here and there over the years, and they were always romantic and fun. But to willingly unplug from the universe and spend almost twenty-four hours with a woman, making himself unavailable to anything else? He’d never done that before, even with Nicole.
He swallowed, letting his eyes trace downward over Delaney’s slim body.
Why had he never done it before? Was it just that he’d never been in the right place in his life to make it work? Or was it that he’d never found a woman who made him want to?
Delaney stirred, and he swept his eyes back to her face before she could catch him ogling her body. She tapped her fingers nervously on her chair, then spoke.
“So I hate that I want to ask this, because it doesn’t matter. Or—well—it shouldn’t matter. But it does. I guess. I think.”
Josh shook his head, mystified. “Was I supposed to follow that?”
“No.” She laughed. “I’m just sitting here, feeling more relaxed than I’ve been in years, but also unbelievably—tense—in all the best ways, and I find myself naively hoping maybe you don’t—do this—often.” She grimaced. “Never mind. Please forget I just said that.”
“I don’t.”
“You—don’t?”
He reached for her hand, squeezing it as he leaned to kiss her. “No. I don’t. I haven’t even played Kiss the Mermaid in, like, days.”
She whacked him playfully, then leaned back in her chair again, closing her eyes. “I think if I was Millie, I’d never want to leave. It’s so perfect here.”
“It is right now.” He nodded, letting his thumb trace circles in her palm. Then he pointed toward the north sky. “Almost time to make a wish on the first star.”
She laughed. “I haven’t wished on a star in a very long time.”
“Oh. Hey.” He reached behind him for an old CD player and speakers that Millie kept in the kitchen. “It occurs to me that I still owe you a dance.”
“A dance? From what?”
“From the charity fund-raiser thing. You promised me a dance.”
“Right.” She nodded. “But you had to leave.”
She tipped her head like she was calculating. “I’m pretty sure if you ditch a girl before a promised dance, you owe her two songs.”
“I see. Even if it was an emergency?”
“Depends. Was it a beeper-style emergency? Because beeper emergencies go triple. Sorry. Doctor-dating rule number thirty-four.”
He laughed. “Triple it is, then.”
He stood up, looking down at her, loving the sundress that showed off her slightly sunburned shoulders and tiny waist. He reached out
his hand, taking hers.
“Will you dance with me, Delaney?”
She smiled. “I will.”
* * *
“You just played ‘Stairway to Heaven’ three straight times.” Delaney pulled back so she could see into Joshua’s eyes a half hour later.
He shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. “It’s the longest slow song I know. I figured if I owed you three songs, then they’d better be as long and sappy as possible.”
“Good thinking.”
“I can put the song on continuous loop if you want to keep dancing.” He leaned down to kiss her softly. “Or we could go for a swim.”
Delaney shivered as she looked at the dark water.
“I’m not sure I’m a big fan of swimming in water where I can’t see the fish. The big ones come out after dark, right?”
“Well, in this lake, the biggest ones wouldn’t feed you for more than one meal, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to worry about losing an arm or anything.”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I think my adventurous spirit stops at the end of this dock, once the moon’s out.”
“Okay. No swimming. How about we just dance in the moonlight, then?”
Delaney laughed softly. “You are quite the romantic, you know.”
“Am I?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.”
He rolled his eyes. “Definitely the kind of thing a guy doesn’t want getting around. Luckily, your rep is shredded as well.”
“Well, don’t tell anybody I’m actually human. It would totally mess with the next audit.”
“My lips are sealed.”
The song started again, and Delaney sighed as he pulled her arms gently up to rest on his shoulders, then gathered her close to his body, his chin resting on her head as they swayed.
“Delaney?”
“Mm?”
“Have you ever made love in a big brass bed … in a log cabin … in the moonlight?”
She took a shaky breath. “No.”
He pulled back to look into her eyes, tipping up her chin as he placed a feather-soft kiss on her lips.
“Would you like to?”
Chapter 27
“I don’t want to go home.” Delaney pouted as she folded herself into the porch swing overlooking the lake on Sunday morning.
Josh chuckled as he handed her a mug of coffee and sat down beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders like they’d been sitting out here together on Sunday mornings for months.
“I don’t, either.”
“Does real life have to take back over already? Can’t we just keep our phones turned off and stay here for the week?”
“That sounds idyllic.” He squeezed her shoulder, surprised at how perfect that actually sounded. Delaney in his space, in his arms, in his bed—for days on end.
She leaned on him, and he smiled as she pulled up her legs and snuggled closer, sipping her coffee. Her skin was soft against his fingers, and part of him wanted to take her hand and pull her back into the bedroom one last time before they had to leave.
He had no idea how things would play out once they left the cabin, but memories of the night they’d just spent together promised to torture him for a long, long time to come. He’d called Delaney an enigma before, and now that he knew her in bed, knew her at the breaking point, knew her in the afterglow … the word hardly did her justice.
She was in turns sweet and sassy, timid and sure … and the combinations had kept him guessing all night long. He’d spent hours exploring her body, and she his, and neither of them had even thought about sleeping until the sun crept through the lacy curtains.
When they’d awakened two hours later, he’d found Delaney snuggled into him, and despite the fact that his right arm was asleep, he didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to wake her. Didn’t want the idyllic scene to ever be interrupted.
But she’d sensed him awake, and she’d rolled over sleepily, reaching for him, hungry for him. Afterward, they’d showered until the hot water tank ran cold, then gotten dressed slowly, like neither of them could stand to face the morning.
However, Millie needed them out by ten o’clock because new renters were due in this afternoon, and the cleaning crew needed to do their thing before then. He idly rocked the swing with his toes, wishing with all his might that they didn’t have to head back to their respective realities in an hour.
“You look good without a beeper, you know.” She looked up at him with hooded eyes. “Actually, you look good without a lot of things.”
He laughed. “Ditto. I wish I could say I’m sorry you never got to wear half of what you packed—but I’m not.”
“Maybe another time.”
“Definitely.” He said the word automatically … but not. He’d said it before on a Sunday morning, and he’d even meant it some of those times. This time, though? This time he felt a physical need to know that there would be another time.
In only two weeks, Delaney Blair had gotten under his skin like no one else ever had, and maybe once he got home, he’d be able to figure out how she’d done it. Right now he was too clouded with memories of a long, hot, beautiful night with her in his arms.
She drained her coffee and straightened up slowly, looking out at the lake. In her profile he could see relaxation, satisfaction, and more than a little exhaustion, which made him smile. He predicted they’d both be sacked out on their respective couches later this afternoon, trying to make up for the hours they hadn’t spent sleeping last night.
She turned to him. “I guess we should get going, hm?”
“Unfortunately, yeah. I guess we should.”
“Maybe if I’m really, really nice to Millie, she’ll let me come back someday. Do you think?”
“Depends whether the media blitz worked, I think. If she’s looking for a job in a month, she might not be feeling too generous.”
Delaney put a hand to her forehead, and he felt guilty for plunging her back into the world they’d left behind.
“I guess we should pick up some papers on our way back through town—see if anybody else gave us any help over the weekend.”
He put his arm back around her, pulling her close. “We did our best, Delaney. If it all goes sour now, it’s not because we didn’t try, right?”
“I guess.” She sighed. “But it just—can’t.”
“I agree.” He stood and pulled her up from the swing, kissing her gently when she was standing against him. “Let’s not think about it yet, okay?”
She kissed him back. “Did I mention I really, really don’t want to go home?”
An hour later, they drove back into the village, and Josh felt his throat constrict. The last thing he wanted to do right now was drop Delaney off at her riverfront condo and go home to his huge, lonely house for the rest of the day.
Sure, he could head over to Avery’s House—probably should, really. Or he could check in at Mercy to make sure all was well there. Normally, that’s exactly what he’d want to do. But not today. When he glanced across the truck cab at Delaney, who was frowning as she watched the little downtown shops go by, he was struck by an urge to just keep her with him for as long as humanly possible.
“Do you have to get home, really?” He raised his eyebrows and reached across for her hand.
She smiled. “Why? Do you have another secret cabin we can disappear to?”
“I wish. I just wondered—want to come back to my place for a while?” He cringed as he realized he sounded like he was crafting a really lousy booty call. “Just to—whatever. Hang out, maybe have some lunch?”
“If your place has coffee, then yes. If not, can we stop for some first?”
He squeezed her hand, then returned his to the wheel. “You have a serious caffeine problem.”
“Noted and agreed.”
“I do have coffee.”
She smiled. “Then I’d love to see your—place.”
He turned up Sugar Maple Drive, wondering su
ddenly if he’d picked up his breakfast dishes yesterday, or hung up the towel from his shower, or—crap—made his bed, even. The last thing he’d expected to do was invite Delaney back here, after all. He’d totally thought the next person walking through the door would be him, and alone was the only way he ever walked through that door.
The strangest sensation came over him as he drove up the street—a feeling of hope, of wanting Delaney to love his house as much as he did.
Nicole had hated it—found it big and drafty and old. It should have been just one of many, many signs, but he’d ignored it, figured she’d come around eventually.
He looked over at Delaney, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t hate it, too.
* * *
“Oh. My.” When Joshua pulled into a gravel driveway halfway up the hill, he saw Delaney’s mouth fall open at the sight of his dark green Victorian with its wide front porch and rounded towers on each corner. “This is your house?”
He shrugged. “Yep. It was my parents’ house first, though. I came by it on the cheap. No way I could touch it in this market otherwise.”
He stepped out of the truck and came around to open her door. As she got out, she stood in the driveway, just staring at the house in awe. He tended to forget how beautiful the place was, given that he’d lived here his entire life, but the look on her face was a warm reminder.
“Did you grow up here? In this house?”
He nodded. “Want to come inside?”
“Oh, I definitely want to come inside. I bet this place has a back stairway and a dusty attic and everything.”
“You sound like a kid in a candy store.” He laughed in relief. “Dusty attics aren’t actually all that cool.”
“They are to me. I always, always wanted to live in a house like this. I know it sounds completely ridiculous to complain, but the houses I lived in were all modern, with high ceilings and big rooms and lots of designer furniture.”
“Sounds terrible.” He unlocked the door and motioned her into the foyer, where a wide staircase headed up to the four bedrooms on the second floor.
“It so was.”
Heart Like Mine Page 23