Dinah watched him leave with a sinking sensation. He'd left because of her and she felt terrible about it. "I'm sorry," she said to the women around her who seemed perfectly content to look at her with amused expressions. "I didn't mean to cause a problem."
"You mean because Jeremy took off?" Joanne asked.
She shrugged. "Yes. I'm sure you love these chances to get together, as a family."
Joanne chuckled. "We get together often enough. I promise! Listen, if he left for any reason, it was be cause of me. I drive him crazy," she stated, not looking one bit perturbed about it.
Dinah knew she wouldn't forget Jeremy's wary expression around her anytime soon. "I don't think so."
"I bet it really is the number of women, Dinah," Marianne McKinley said kindly. "My goodness, there's practically enough of us to throw a slumber party! Any man would leave in a hurry." She leaned forward, the discussion settled. "Now, tell me, how was that walk of yours?"
Mary Beth winced. "Mother, Dinah doesn't need to share her personal business with us."
"She doesn't mind," Marianne retorted. "You don't mind, do you?"
"I don't mind. There's really not much to share," Dinah admitted, wondering why that made her so depressed.
"And you don't have to tell us anything," Mary Beth said, glaring at her mother. "Although ... I've always wondered if Jeremy kisses as dreamily as he looks."
Joanne frowned. "Ew. That's my brother we're talking about."
"Your brother is a dreamboat," Mary Beth laughed.
"You're married to his brother."
"Who's my personal dreamboat," Mary Beth said with a smile. "I don't want to kiss Jeremy, I just wanted to know if my hunches were correct." She glanced at Dinah and smiled encouragingly.
Dinah squirmed. "I don't know," she muttered.
"You don't know how good it was?" Joanne clarified. "Or, you don't know if you want to share?"
Oh, these women! They were like a pack of dogs with a bone. No wonder Jeremy took off. Resolutely, she admitted the truth. "I don't know how he kisses because I haven't kissed him."
"I thought y'all went walking in the moonlight," Marianne said, a faint frown marring her features. "Mayor Kincaid even saw you two holding hands."
"We were, but we didn't kiss."
All three women looked crestfallen and Dinah almost admitted she felt the same way.
"Hmph. I would have thought Jeremy would have more gumption than that," Joanne said with a frown.
"I wonder what's wrong with him," Mary Beth added. "Maybe he was sick?"
Just as Marianne was about to add her comment, Dinah spoke. "He wanted to ... I didn't let him."
Again, three women stared at her in surprise. Surprised and more than a little disappointed. "Why not, Dinah? Do you really not like him?" Mary Beth asked.
"I do ... but I'm trying not to." She turned to Joanne, looking for anyone to save her from the bottomless pit of a conversation. "You, of all people should know what I'm talking about. Don't you think Jeremy should be around someone younger?"
Joanne squirmed. "Me? Well, I admit that at first I was a little worried about the age difference ... but now I don't think it matters. I know he's been attracted to you since he saw you at the grocery store."
"But five years' difference ..."
"Years from now it won't matter at all," Marianne said. "Not after you two get married and start your own family."
"We're not getting married," Dinah protested, feeling like she was stuck in the center of a tornado. "I don't know if we're even going to go out on a date."
Again all three women were confused. "He really is a great guy," Mary Beth said, ready to defend him. "And he's different than most men his age. Jeremy's the kind of guy who plans for everything. He's steady. And a hard worker. If you're afraid he's going to be saying good-bye to you and go out with some co-ed, I just don't see it happening."
"I don't see it either," Joanne admitted, "and to tell the truth, at first I didn't think the two of you would be right for each other."
Dinah handed Bryan his sippy cup and another twenty CheeriosT" when he started to fuss in her lap. "So what's changed your mind?"
"Seeing how you look at each other. Like you're dying to stare at each other, but afraid of what the other might do."
"I haven't been staring at him."
"But you've been going out of your way not to," Joanne pointed out. "That's telling."
"Dear, I'm not saying Jeremy Reece is the one for you, but I do certainly feel that he could be," Marianne said kindly. "Don't let what-ifs overtake you."
Dinah stared out at the street, recalled the faint sheen of color that stained his face and neck as he left. What had he been feeling? Probably not anything good. "I don't think he's going to ask me again. He said he was going to wait on me."
"Then ask him out."
She stared at the ladies in surprise. "You don't think that would be ridiculous, like some old woman coming on to him?"
"You're twenty-eight, not sixty-eight, so stop acting like you're approaching retirement," Joanne said. "And second, who cares if someone does think you're too old for him or he's too young for you? All that matters is when the two of you are alone."
Mary Beth chuckled at Joanne's words. "Dinah, go ask him out. You'll be glad you did."
She was almost convinced she should do that, and wasn't sure if she was proud of herself or ashamed. "Where?"
"Ask him over to dinner," Mary Beth suggested. "Missy did that with Kevin. Remember, Jo?"
Joanne's expression turned dreamy. "Oh yeah, the night after Kevin had dinner at Missy's we all were together, and it was all Kevin could talk about. You would have thought she was a personal chef and interior decorator by the way he gushed about her."
"What did she fix for him?"
Mary Beth grinned. "Chicken."
"Chicken?"
"He would have eaten sawdust and gushed," Joanne explained, holding her arms out to Bryan. "It was the company he cared about, Dinah," she said, glancing at the little boy. "Ask him over for dinner."
She sighed. She had been hurt when Jeremy walked out that door, and knew the only way she was going to feel happy was when she could look forward to see him. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to ask him over for dinner," she stated. "That is ... if y'all are sure you don't mind?"
"We want you to!" The three other women at the table practically yelled.
But she still felt awkward. Though she knew she was just as nervous about dating again as she was about Jeremy, it seemed as if every insecurity she'd ever had was now smothering her in waves. "And his parents? You don't think they'll think it's strange?"
"I'll take care of them," Marianne said. "You call him up tonight."
For some reason, calling, then asking Jeremy's father to get him on the phone felt scary.
"Or, you could stop by the club," Mary Beth said brightly.
"I can do that," Dinah said, then finally grinned as she gazed at the other women. "I'm going to ask him today."
"Well, hallelujah," Marianne McKinley said, speaking for all of them. "I'm glad that's taken care of."
"So you see, it's not just roast beef and lasagna we're talking about," Payton explained to Jeremy after he cornered him at the back table. "It's that Priscilla has a whole host of dreams and talents that she thinks is going to waste."
Jeremy set down the water pitcher as best he could, though a major part of him felt like dumping the whole thing in Payton's lap. The guy was totally, completely smitten with Priscilla, and couldn't seem to veer conversation along any other tangent.
All roads led to her. And Jeremy-who had some girl trouble of his own, thank you very much-was getting a little tired of hearing about it. "Let Priscilla out of the contract," he said, somewhat spitefully. "Then you'd be free to date her and she could cook what she wanted."
Payton rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."
"What's wrong with that idea?"
"Just about everything. Prisc
illa's not going to stay around here if she's free."
This guy was so screwed up, it was amazing he could survive on his own. "In case you haven't checked lately, I'll remind you that this isn't the 1800s. You don't own her."
Payton puffed up his heavily starched, white buttondown-covered chest. "I practically do. She has a contract with me."
"With the club."
"With the club." Payton sighed and slouched down in his chair, a sure sign that he was depressed. "I just don't know what I'm going to tell her about the annual Father's Day buffet. The men in the club are going to expect roast beef and lasagna. They come for roast beef and lasagna."
"But Priscilla doesn't want to make it?"
"Not really. She actually suggested that we have a barbecue out by the pool instead, grill steaks, hot dogs, chicken, fish."
For the life of him, Jeremy couldn't see why this was causing a problem. "What's wrong with that? I'd go to that Father's Day buffet."
Payton stared hard at him. "That's because you're not Baron McKinley or your dad. Those men thrive on tradition."
"Sometimes change is good."
"Sometimes a lot of things are good," Payton replied with a disgruntled look. "Doesn't mean you have to do them."
Talking to Payton was like talking to a wall. As deftly as he could, Jeremy excused himself to make the rounds around the area, offering water and tea to the ladies at table seven who just finished golfing.
Of course, that led to conversation about his parents, his sister's baby, and his new job. He was just finishing his rounds when Dinah wandered in, looking determined. Just the sight of her made his afternoon a little bit brighter.
He ambled over to her. "Hi. What brings you here?"
She gazed at him, her brown eyes wide and cautious, and for a minute he thought she was going to turn right back around. Especially when it became evident that the golfing ladies were more than eager to eavesdrop on every word.
"Let's go over here," he murmured, setting the pitcher of water down on an empty table and guiding Dinah toward the sliding glass doors that led to the patio. "I'm taking a five minute break," he called out to Payton, who nodded right back.
As soon as they were outside, he seated himself across from her at a wrought-iron table. "What's up?"
Dinah bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking, coming here while you were working." She paused for breath, then looked even more confused. "Why are you working, by the way? I thought you were going home."
"I left The Mill in such a hurry I forgot that I didn't have a car. Thought I'd put in a few hours and then get a ride home with Payton or Priscilla."
She nodded her understanding, though she did look completely preoccupied. "Oh."
He waited again, glanced through the glass door to make sure nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "Did you need something?"
She leaned forward, the ends of her hair falling toward her jaw. "Actually, no. I mean, I was wanting something. I mean I'd liike ..." Her voice drifted off, in sync with the color rising in her cheeks.
Immediately, worry set in. "Is something wrong with Bryan? Is that why he's not here?"
"Oh no. He's with Joanne and Mary Beth, actually." She flashed a smile. "I'm trying to ask you something, and I'm embarrassed to say it's a little hard in coming."
Wearily Jeremy waited. She was probably going to tell him to leave her alone. That she didn't need to have to worry about him making calves' eyes at her. He steeled himself to look completely at ease, like he got rejected all the time. "Just say it, then," he coaxed. "That's usually the best way."
"I guess so. Well, all right, then. Would you like to come over next Saturday night for dinner?" she asked quickly.
He was completely taken aback. She was asking him out? To her house for dinner? It took all the control he had to not stand up and cheer. "Sure," he said as easily as possible. "That sounds really nice."
"Bryan will be there."
Where else would he be? "I hope so."
She smiled then, perking her face up and making him grin in return. "I thought we could grill steaks."
"Steaks sound great."
"And potatoes. Salad, too."
He couldn't resist any longer. Reaching out, he clasped one of the hands that gripped the edge of the table and enfolded it in his own. "Anything you do would make me happy."
Brown eyes darkened, looking almost black. He could stare at them forever. Because she looked in need of further coaxing, he added, "Really."
"You're not just saying that?"
"I'm not just saying that," he replied. "Thank you for inviting me."
Dinah let out a deep breath. "I was a little nervous. I was afraid you'd say no."
"I didn't," he said lightly, though he knew he'd would never deny her anything. For a brief moment he wondered if he was in love with her. Was that what love was like? Did it just sneak up on a person, mak ing him want to do anything for a woman, just to see her smile?
He slid his fingers through her own, taking a minute to notice the difference between their two hands ... his so much meatier, bigger, tanner. Rough. Her hand felt delicate and smooth in his own. And cold.
"Are you chilly?"
"No," she said, with a smile. "I'm just fine."
So was he. "I better go get back to work. What time on Saturday?"
She thought for a moment. "Is five too early? Bryan goes to bed at 7:30. If it's any later, you'd hardly get to see him."
"Five's just fine."
"Well, then. I guess I better get on back. Bryan needs a snack, and then I've got to go to the store. And sew a few costumes."
"I forgot you were doing them. How's it going?"
She shrugged. "It's going. I'll be ready for your first fitting in a few weeks."
"I'll be ready," he said as they slowly left the patio and entered the dining room.
As she walked away, he picked up his water pitcher again, feeling ready to conquer anything. Even ask Priscilla or Payton for a ride home.
Dinah knew inviting Jeremy over had been a mistake. A silly, thoughtless mistake. The only problem was that she didn't know how to get out of it at all. One more time she wrote down her grocery list only to immediately cross each item off. Although she'd never claim to be a gourmet, she could certainly handle grilling steaks and putting together a salad. She just didn't quite know what to do about dessert. It seemed the most personal item, and because it seemed that way to her, it embarrassed her too.
She didn't know his tastes. Cherry or apple pie? Maybe a chocolate cake? Cookies, ice cream?
Something fancy to make up for the plain dinner?
She sighed, wishing Betty Crocker would appear before her in a blaze of glory. But then the door opened, and the next best thing did: Priscilla Hayward, gourmet cook extraordinaire. Dinah couldn't believe her luck.
"Hi, Priscilla," she called out, while Bonnie barked out a cheerful greeting.
"Hi," Priscilla said, after petting Bonnie. "Have we met?"
"Only in passing."
Relief cascaded over her pretty features. "Thank goodness. I've met so many people, and I'm afraid to offend anyone by admitting that I don't remember their name."
"I'm Dinah Cate, and you've met my parents, the Ryans, I believe."
Recognition brightened her eyes as Priscilla placed her. "Now I've got it." She laughed. "I'm sorry, I still can't quite get used to knowing everyone everywhere I go."
"I understand," Dinah said. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Priscilla named a few authors. "I love their books. Any new ones out?"
"Let's go see," Dinah replied. "I think Arnold Fergusen's new mystery is out in hardcover." For the next few minutes they wandered through the shelves, discussing books and authors. Priscilla was just the kind of customer Dinah liked: a chatty one.
Most people enjoyed being by themselves when selecting novels, and Dinah understood that, but there was nothing she liked more than conversing about auth
ors and titles with someone new. Even if their tastes were completely opposite, she got a charge just from the interaction.
Finally Priscilla had an armful of books and a happy smile on her face. "I'm so glad Joanne told me about this place," she said as she walked to Dinah's front counter. "It's been a pleasure to be here."
"I'm glad you came."
After ringing up the order, she knew it was now or never. Priscilla was genuinely nice and was so pretty that she probably dated all the time. If anyone could help her plan the meal it would be her. "Do you have a minute? Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Sure."
Eagerly, Dinah hopped up and fixed two steaming mugs and brought them to the front of the store. "I need some help with a dinner I'm planning."
"Ah," Priscilla said, understanding dawning. "Big party or small?"
"Small. I invited someone over for dinner. We're having steaks, baked potatoes, and salad. Rolls."
"Sounds like a male guest."
Dinah laughed at the description. "You guessed it."
"Guys love that kind of food. What's the problem?"
"Dessert."
A smile played on Priscilla's lips. "Dessert?"
"I don't know what to fix. I don't know what he would like. Any ideas?"
Priscilla sipped her coffee as she studied Dinah over the rim. "A couple. Fancy or simple?"
"Simple."
"How about ice cream sundaes?"
"Really?"
Priscilla laughed. "Why do you look so shocked?"
"Well, you've got this amazing reputation, I was expecting you to say crepes Suzette or Baked Alaska, or something."
"I could suggest those, if you wanted to cook all day, but I think simple desserts are sometimes best. Crush up some Oreos, pecans, a candy bar. Have out a topping or two. Your guest is going to love it!"
"That's all you would do?"
"Sure."
"Really?"
"Well, if I was showing off, I'd make the ice cream and the sauce, and put it all in some kind of fancy bowls. But it's the same thing. Anyway, I have a feeling that your guest isn't coming over for dinner to critique you," she said, smiling at Dinah.
"I don't think he is," Dinah confided.
"And why would he? You're adorable."
Finding Love in Payton Page 6