“It’s about time you got back!” A familiar voice floated across the front lawn, interrupting Maddie’s answer. The voice was followed by Lily. She leaned against the car and smiled at them. “Hi, kids. This is fate,” she said. “You’re the very person I was hoping to see!”
“Hi, Lily,” Maddie said.
“Not you, love. I was wanting Sam.”
Lily held a dishrag in one hand, and over her shorts and T-shirt she wore a huge red-and-white-checked apron that read KISS THE COOK.
Sam smiled at her, his gaze scanning her apron. “What’s cooking, Lily?”
Lily looked down at her apron. “Yes, Sam, you can kiss me—chastely, of course. But later. I had a suspicion you might be in town, so I had Jack make some extra potato salad and chill a few more beers. Be here in two hours.”
“Here?”
Maddie leaned over. “Lily is inviting you to dinner tonight, Sam.”
“Of course that’s what I’m doing.”
“And both she and Jack are absolutely fantastic cooks.”
“So true!” Lily said.
“Her invitations are coveted,” Maddie went on, “so I wouldn’t turn her down if I were you.”
“You wouldn’t?” Maddie was leaning into his side now. Sam breathed in the flowery scent of her.
“Nope,” Maddie said. “No one ever misses a chance to eat at Lily’s. Honest.”
“Not even you?” he asked.
“Not even me. Never. I’ll be first in line.”
A wave of unexpected relief shot through him. So this was her date—dinner at the Thorpes’. Great. He smiled up at Lily. “Sure, Lily. Hell, who could pass up an offer like that? A cook to kiss and great food. I’ll be there.”
“Of course you will. See you a little after seven.” And she was gone, a flash of red and white checks in the fading sunlight.
“You think I can hold my own with the locals?” Sam asked.
“I think you’ll do just fine.”
“Really?” Sam reached over and rested his palm against her heated cheek. “See you in an hour then.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek, a light brush.
Maddie slipped from the car. Why, she wondered, couldn’t she feel the sidewalk on the way up to the house? Why was it spongy and why did her knees feel weak? Too much Sam? she asked herself as she bent to scratch Eeyore’s ears.
She stood there for a moment, her fingers playing in the dog’s golden hair, and she knew without looking back that Sam was still sitting at the curb, his piercing blue eyes focused on her back. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. Oh, Maddie, she thought, what are you doing? You’ve got your life back on track. Are you going to muck it up for a handsome face and sexy body?
But the voice was dim, and by the time she lowered her body into the suds-filled tub a short while later, she had to struggle to hear it.
EIGHT
Sam arrived at seven. He’d changed into slacks and a cashmere V-neck sweater. The smell of soap and after-shave clung to his body.
“The towels work,” he said to Maddie as her eyes moved over his body and took in his change of clothes.
“And the shower too?”
“Uh-huh. But someone—God only knows who—had filled it with plants, so I had to share.”
Maddie laughed. “Sorry. I forgot. I put them there while the carpet layers were finishing the upstairs.”
“The geraniums and I are great friends now. Showering together does that.”
“Right,” she said, imagining the plants, and Sam, and the skylit shower.
“I’m a firm believer in it, especially here in California.”
“Geraniums?”
“Showering together. Saves water.”
“You’re a conservationist,” Maddie said lightly.
“Yes. How about you? Maybe sometime—”
“I can smell the Thorpes’ grill. Time to go.” Maddie pushed open the screen door. She smiled brightly.
“I smell something too.” He leaned closer, his face nearly touching her hair. “It’s your hair.” He pulled away with the scent of avocados lingering in his nostrils. “You’re right,” he said, his voice strangely thick. “We’d better go. Oh—” He pulled one hand from behind his back. “I almost forgot. This is for you.”
Maddie did a double take. He held a single daisy, fresh and crisp and lovely.
He had brought her a daisy. A daisy! She took it. And she recognized it, too; it was from the thick young plants she had planted in a bare spot beside his front door a few days ago. But it was the gesture, the simple gesture from this elegant man, that caused the tug inside of her. It meant more, surely, than if he had ordered a truckload of long-stemmed roses from the Mission Street florist. She ducked her head to hide the emotion rising in her eyes and stuck the daisy into her thick hair. “I do like daisies,” she said roughly, and took his arm to walk next door.
Lily and Jack’s deck and large backyard were overflowing with people when Maddie and Sam walked through the back gate. Lily rushed over to greet them and then took over, tucking her arm in Sam’s and introducing him to everyone. It was a hodgepodge of people—shop owners, professors from the college on the hill, some on motorcycles, some students. Even Joseph was there, having become a good friend to Jack and Lily after Maddie had introduced them over two years before. And much to Sam’s surprise, Eleanor was at Joseph’s side.
But Sam had trouble concentrating on anyone but Maddie. If they hadn’t left her house when they had, he wasn’t sure what would have happened. The drumming beat of desire hung between them as thick as warm summer fog. He stood alone now at the edge of the neat brick patio lined with pots of geraniums and daisies. She was in the thick of the crowd, shaking hands, hugging friends. He watched her lean close and listen carefully to some secret thing an older woman whispered in her ear. People reacted to her immediately, he saw, wanting to tell her things, to touch her arm, to be close to her. She looked so young, he thought—hell, she was young, seven, eight years younger than he, probably—and yet there was something in her eyes that spoke of a longer life, of many years lived.
He watched her hold her head back and laugh at something someone had said. Her hair hung loose tonight, a thick black cloud held back from her face by a wide silver barrette, and when her head fell back, her hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall. And the daisy was still there, a large white and yellow dot on her dark, shiny hair. She wore a striped silk tank top in vibrant shades of blue and green and purple. It was held up by slender straps and matched her skirt. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with laughter and easy happiness. Every now and then she looked his way, waved, smiled, then moved on. Others stopped her, looked at him, sometimes pointed, smiled. Whatever they said didn’t seem to bother Maddie; her smile remained steady and her eyes warm.
“I was right, wasn’t I? You did need some time away from the office, Sam,” said Eleanor, coming up behind him.
“So you were, Eleanor,” he said, kissing her cheek. He looked back for Maddie, found her, and followed her with his eyes as she drifted across the yard, offering platters of chips and vegetables and mushrooms stuffed with herbs and cheese to chatting groups of people. She was like an island in this sea of strangers, people he knew nothing about, cared nothing about, a green soothing island.
“But I have to admit, Sam, I’m thrilled—but surprised,” Eleanor said.
Sam pulled his gaze from Maddie. “Man can’t live on work alone.”
“Spoken like a wise man.”
“The house is looking good, Eleanor.”
“I won’t say I told you so.”
“Nice of you.” He handed her a glass of lemonade from a tray and took a beer from the cooler for himself. “Now, Eleanor, suppose we get down to business. Tell me about Joseph Carter.”
“Joseph is a lovely man. I like him very much.”
“I do, too, but there’s more in your eyes than a liking for a nice man. Come on, Eleanor, we’ve known each other too l
ong for you to pull that crap on me.”
Eleanor’s seasoned laughter melted into the happy noises of the evening. “There are certain things one doesn’t discuss. But suffice it to say, Joseph and I are having a very satisfying time together. Who knows where it will go? But for right now we seem to be doing a fine job of meeting one another’s needs.” She lifted her chin, looked him in the eyes, and continued slowly and clearly. “He makes me laugh, and he makes me feel like a woman, and he delights me. I’ve had a full life and wasn’t looking for that. But it came to me anyway, and I’m awfully glad I didn’t pass it by. And Sam”—her eyes locked onto his—“I think you should think about that.”
Before Sam could answer, he felt a slight pressure at his elbow.
“Don’t you two see enough of each other at work?” Maddie asked, giving Eleanor a hug.
“You look absolutely radiant tonight, Maddie,” Eleanor said warmly.
Sam watched Maddie push aside the compliment and it occurred to him that she really didn’t see her beauty the way others did. Or maybe it was all simply irrelevant to her.
“Sam’s the one causing commotion here.” She grinned at him. “I’ve had several inquiries regarding your availability.”
He lifted a brow. “Oh?”
“I said you were busy.” She smiled sweetly, then turned toward Eleanor. “Joseph said you’re driving down to Big Sur tonight.”
“I was just about to mention that, as a matter of fact.” She looked at Sam. “Joseph and I are going to go hiking.”
“Hiking?” Sam said. “Eleanor, you’ve never hiked farther than the house to the garage in your life.”
“And it’s about time I began, don’t you think?” Her eyes danced. “We aren’t fools, however. There’s a wonderful new resort down there to which we’ll return soon after the first sheen of perspiration appears. It’s a private place with cabins facing the sea. It will be just the two of us and the sea lions.”
Her lovely smile drew both Maddie and Sam into it.
“How long will you be gone?” Sam asked.
“We’ll be playing hooky for a couple of days. I’ve arranged for someone to handle the office, so don’t go getting an ulcer—”
“Oh, Eleanor, that’s wonderful,” Maddie said. “Joseph needs a break. I hope you two have a wonderful time.”
“Oh, we will,” Eleanor said with an enthusiasm that made both Maddie and Sam laugh.
Lily called everyone over then, instructing them to fill their plates; Jack had set out platters of grilled salmon and vegetables and a half-dozen side dishes on a long wooden table.
“I think we’ve lost Joseph and Eleanor,” Sam said, nodding toward the far gate.
Maddie looked up in time to see them, hand in hand, leaving by the side walk. “Dear Joseph,” Maddie said, almost in a whisper. “Good for him.”
Sam noticed the catch in her voice. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
She nodded, blinked back the sting of tears.
Sam handed her a plate. “I understand. I feel the same about Eleanor.”
“I know. I can tell. Eleanor said she’s been with you forever.”
“Just about. She gave up a safe, secure job to come with me when I started. And she stayed on when her husband died, when she had two teenagers to raise. I owe her a lot.”
Maddie heard the emotion in his voice and knew he was speaking of more than her management skill.
“She’s a good woman,” he said softly, more to himself than to Maddie. He took another beer from the cooler and looked around the yard. There were too many people. In the far corner of the yard was a large eucalyptus tree with a small empty bench beneath it. He nodded toward it. “How about over there?”
“You’re trying to escape, Sam.”
“Damn right. Joseph and Eleanor have got me thinking,” he said, his smile telling her he’d like to go a lot farther than the bench in the corner.
Maddie followed him along the flagstone pathway and sat down next to him. A thick hedge of spirea separated the spot from the rest of the yard, and the smell of the eucalyptus perfumed the air. “It’s probably better we eat here. Everyone is so curious about you, you’d never get a chance to eat over there.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you’re sexy and handsome and new in town, that’s why.” She grinned. “I’m speaking, of course, for the women. The men would probably let you eat.”
He laughed. “So this is small-town life.”
“Part of it. The other part is the support these same curious people give you when you need it. And the slightly slower pace. And you can be anyone here. People accept.”
“And that’s why you’re here.”
She nodded.
“When did you come?”
“A little more than five years ago.”
“Why Santa Cruz?”
“I was looking for all those things I just told you about.”
“Does the woman we met today figure in all this?”
“Yes. Her brother owned a cabin in the hills above here and let me use it for a few months. I left the cabin, but not the town. And now your time is up.” She pointed to his plate. “Eat. This is wonderful salmon and yours is getting cold.”
Sam laughed. “And I ask too many questions, right?”
Maddie only smiled and lifted a forkful of potato salad. “Taste this. Jack makes it himself. There’s none better.”
A small piece of pimiento fell onto the bend of her thumb, and before she could get to it, Sam had dipped his head and licked it off. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s delicious.”
She caught her breath. “Watch it, Sam. Things like that make me crazy.”
“I like you crazy. Is that bad? I mean, you do it to me every time your hair fans my face or your blouse pulls against your breasts or you smile in that way that makes a small dimple right here—” He touched her left cheek.
She held up her hand. “Okay, I get the picture. And no, it’s not bad. It’s just—” She paused and nibbled on her bottom lip. Sam watched, and added lip nibbling to the things that made him crazy.
“Go on, Maddie.”
She took a deep breath, then plunged in. “I’ve been thinking about the day, the things we’ve talked about. And there’s something you need to know about me.”
“I’d like to know a lot of things about you.”
“No, wait, let me get this out. You are sexy, just like everyone says. You’re very … desirable. And I’m normal, have the same kind of feelings as any other woman—”
“Good,” he said, nodding, holding back his smile. “I think that’s good.”
“And I’m sure you have a lot of women … friends.”
Sam didn’t comment.
“Well, I don’t have a lot of men friends … in that way, I mean. And I—”
“Maddie—” His voice was kind. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t sleep around?”
“Oh, yes!”
The words were delivered on a wave of such emotion that Sam could no longer hold back the smile. “You may not believe this,” he said, taking her hand in his, “but I never thought you did. Not once. There’s something about you that says, ‘I don’t sleep around.’ It’s pretty clear.”
“So we understand each other?”
“We do.”
“There certainly is this … attraction here, and we can deal with that, but you need to know that.”
He nodded solemnly. “I do.”
“Well, good. That’s settled then. It’s a load off my mind. Now let’s talk about other things.”
He watched the light play in her eyes, tiny golden flecks in a turquoise sea. What had hurt her, made her so cautious of men? There was something there, something in her eyes—
“Tell me more about you,” Maddie said brightly.
“A boring topic.”
“You were married, Sam. Tell me about your wife—”
“My ex-wife.” Sam didn’t talk about Elizabeth. E
xcept for being Sara’s mother, she wasn’t a part of his life any longer. But Maddie’s asking didn’t bother him as he might have thought it would. If she asked, she cared, and for some reason, she thought she should know. So he’d answer.
“I don’t mean to pry, Sam,” Maddie said to his silence. “But sometimes you’re a puzzle to me, and I thought if I understood an important piece, I might understand the whole better.”
Sam rested his head back against the tree. “That’s fair enough. My ex-wife’s name was Elizabeth,” he said. “She was very beautiful, and she was nice in her way. Still is.” He took a long swig of beer. Hell, that was all so glib. There was a lot more to who Elizabeth was. Why couldn’t he be honest here? Especially with someone like Maddie, who he was sure never shaded the truth. He owed it to her—as a warning perhaps? Hey, Maddie, this is me, this is what I am. Proceed at your own risk.…
He leaned back against the tree again, stretched his legs, and looked sideways at her. “Okay, here’s the scoop, Maddie. I met Elizabeth Harris in London when I was just getting my business off the ground. I was attracting a lot of attention—whiz kid from Silicon Valley, that sort of garbage—and some business associates in London threw a party for me which she attended. I was young and absolutely captivated by her.” He took another swallow of beer. “We were married a month later.”
“Sounds like a fairy tale.”
“That’s exactly how the newspapers described it. Here I was, the kid from nowhere who made it big, and then I came back with this beautiful woman from England.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “People love that sort of stuff.”
“What happened?” she asked softly.
Sam was silent for so long that Maddie thought she had offended him, had pushed him back into that remote, unreadable person she could hardly remember. But finally he spoke, his voice deep and clear and matter-of-fact. He smiled and a dimple formed in his cheek. “What happened, Maddie, was that I completely failed at something for the first time in my life.”
“Surely it wasn’t all your—”
“Yes, it probably was,” he said simply, without self-pity. “Quite simply I let the marriage go to hell. Elizabeth was young, well intentioned. But I gave her little to work with. I worked hard building my company, investing money, making deals—providing her with everything in the world for a perfect life.”
Moonlight on Monterey Bay Page 10