This was nothing like that.
Sitting across from her he found her cleverly biting sense of humor attractive. Almost as attractive as her face. He saw her not only as his brother’s friend, but an attractive woman, and her charm was proving to be infectious. He found himself wanting to know her better. She was gorgeous, witty, and smart, and he’d been blind to not notice. Back then he had an excuse. Right now he was kicking himself in the ass for rudely pushing her away that first day. She held her own, though. She would have bitten him if he let her. That might be fun!
The thought seared like a hot poker to the brain. He tried to push it away, but he wasn’t having much luck.
“So?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. “How’d you find me? Use your contacts?”
“You’ve been here for a few months. I thought I’d come see where you settled,” he confessed. “I’ve gotta admit, the house is pretty cool.”
Aimee relaxed, walking to the kitchen. “Iced tea?”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, that’d be great. It’s a bit of a walk from my house to yours.”
As she was busy in the kitchen, he looked around the inside of the house. It was small. You could see most of the other rooms from the living room. He was surprised at her eclectic mix of furniture. She struck him as a girl who wanted all the expensive, pretty things. He was wrong. This was homey. Pieces which weren’t a set, but went together. Since his mom was a single parent, she just put stuff together and it worked. Aimee’s house was decorated the same way. His mom would have described it as a “mish-match.”
He heard the sound of ice clinking into a glass just before he saw the refrigerator door open. It was one of the old, box type refrigerators and he was surprised it still worked. She came up next to him and handed him the tea. An unusual table sat against one wall. Something he’d never seen before. It was a nice piece and appealed to him. Then he noticed an odd arrangement on the wall above it. It was very unusual, but it pulled you in. He took note of the entire configuration and realized it was made up entirely of crosses. They were every shape and size, some painted or stained, both metal and wooden. He really liked a large green one of copper patina. Although they were different, they all went together. The table below it led your eye to the composition above. Instantly, he made the connection. The table was made of arched windows, probably from an old church. He’d never seen one quite like it, and as he studied the piece she stood silently next to him.
He cocked his head inquisitively in its direction. “Did you make this?”
Smiling, she ran her hand over the top, caressing the worn wood, and moved the blue Mason jar filled with wildflowers toward the back.
“I did. Do you like it?” she said with pride.
He nodded.
She smiled. “I went to one of the antique shops up here. These arched church windows were just begging to be bought. They were sitting in a dusty corner with a bunch of other stuff in front of them. When I saw them I knew I had to have them. They needed a new life.”
“It’s an interesting piece,” he complimented.
Her hands lingered on the wood top. “This is just an old piece of barn wood I found with a pile of stuff in the house. Once I sanded and oiled it, I knew they belonged together.”
She faced him. “Now when everyone sees it, it’s appreciated.”
The corners of his mouth lifted teasingly. “Everyone?” he inquired.
“Well… delivery people and the mailman, mostly,” she laughed.
Using his glass as a pointer, he tilted it toward the crosses. “I didn’t realize you were so religious.”
“I’m not,” she answered.
She sat down on the sofa, tucking her legs under her, as he again sat across from her.
She shrugged. “To tell the truth, I don’t like religion much.”
“Really? You don’t believe in any religion?” he asked.
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe in God, Carter! Don’t look so shocked!”
“So what do you believe? I’m curious.” Now she had his interest.
A tender look crossed her face. “I believe there is a God, and that everything is under His control.”
“It’s that simple,” he remarked, his tone an invitation to explain.
“Religion isn’t faith,” she explained. “Not to me anyway. I don’t think God has a favorite religion, so I don’t either.”
Her soft, thoughtful expression had a strange and unexpected reaction on him. Although she looked in his eyes when she spoke, he felt a tug in his chest. He definitely liked this Aimee much more than the brat she was at the beach.
“Would you agree?” she continued. “I mean, really, when you think about it, faith is more than religion. It’s about your heart. I don’t think God cares about the differences in religion, so it doesn’t matter to me either. Whether you’re Methodist, Episcopalian, Catholic, or Jewish, I think God loves us no matter which way we pray—as long as we pray to Him.”
She was interesting and full of surprises. He was so engrossed that he ignored the sweat running from his glass until he saw beads of water dripping onto the surface below.
“Shit! I’m sorry Aimee. This is dripping all over your table.”
She simply laughed and went to get a towel.
“Don’t worry,” she said over her shoulder. “This is exactly why I have a home, and not a house.”
Wiping the table, she then reached for the glass in his hand. The contact startled her. She knew he felt it too because as soon as they touched, their eyes met. It caught them by surprise. She quickly pulled her hand away, as he nervously took another sip of tea. When she went back to her seat, he sat the glass on the cloth she left behind.
He cleared his throat. “My mom was a lot like you. I guess she was what you’d call faithful.”
She smiled at the comparison, and again he felt the unexpected tug. He began to walk around the room. It was easier at the moment to look at her furniture than to continue the awkward eye contact. It gave him some much needed distance.
“Did you make all of this stuff?” he asked nodding his head in the direction of a few pieces.
“Yep,” she said proudly. “All of it.”
He gave her an ornery smile. “I wouldn’t have thought a prissy girl like you would like messing around with this kind of thing. Sanding wood and all…”
She thought this might be one of those “backhanded compliments” people talked about. It just took a little time to get used to hearing between the lines—and she found herself enjoying it. He seemed to appreciate the real her—not the girl in pictures in magazines.
“Then I guess you don’t know me,” she said with a smile. “…or, at least, not much about me.”
She watched him as he walked around, inspecting various pieces. His compliments warmed her, and she found herself explaining the history of each one to him with the relaxed intensity of a museum curator.
He leaned back against a desk she’d just given him the history of. “How do you come up with these ideas?”
The undertone of respect in his tone made her smile. “It’s simple, really,” she answered. “I like putting together the unlikely.” She moved to an old birdcage. Inside was a plant with hues of green, and she softly caressed the leaves. “I think there’s a lot of beauty in old and discarded things. It always makes me wonder about its original owner. I fabricate a lot of stories when I’m working on them. Take this cage for example. Was it a gift? Probably. A woman owned it most likely. From the age of it I can picture a woman in the 1930’s or ‘40’s. Was the bird a parakeet or a canary? It was a common gift back then for Easter or Mother’s Day. I could go on, and it does have a certain fascination, wouldn’t you agree?”
His eyes met hers, and this time a spark joined the tugging sensation. It felt like his stomach flipped. Why had he never noticed how beautiful her eyes were?
He smiled at her. Her imagination fascinated him. “I do agree. I’ve just never thought
of it before.”
He couldn’t have predicted how very differently this visit would end from the way that it started. He had intended it to be a brief visit, small talk, and mending a fence to get his brother off his back, but he was really enjoying getting to know her. She wasn’t as superficial as he thought. He thought the modeling thing, especially with how popular she’d become lately, would have made her a high maintenance girl. He was pleasantly surprised to find she wasn’t, and that she really had substance.
“All the different pieces you have here, I like them,” he complimented. “Gives your place a down-to-earth feeling.”
“You do?” she asked. She turned toward him and smiled. “I’m really glad. This is my home. It’s something most people take for granted, but I don’t. As far as my projects, I like being surrounded by things someone loved. Once they’re thrown away I like to make them feel loved again,” she softly said.
Carter noticed something else about her. It was probably a nervous habit, but he looked at it like a cute tic. It seemed the more that Aimee talked, the more she unconsciously rubbed the palm of her hand over and over on her thigh. He just watched but he found himself wanting to hold her hand and calm her. Her jeans were worn in the spots where she continued circling. He sat down next to her and cautiously placed his hand over her jittery one. He was pleased to see her shoulders relax. “Why are you nervous?” he asked, his voice low and deep.
She looked at both their hands resting on her thigh. “I don’t really know,” she confessed.
“Aimee, look at me,” he said gently. “I’m glad I came over—and I’m sorry for before. I’m not always the nicest person. Just ask my brother.”
The timbre of his voice soothed her. “You don’t say,” she laughed softly. She raised her chin and met his gaze. “Thank you for saying that. I honestly thought you didn’t like me.”
The magnetic pull strengthened with their close proximity and he found himself drawn to her mouth. As she smiled the corners raised slightly, emphasizing how full and plump they truly were. He imagined how soft they would feel against his, and it made him uncomfortably aroused.
He interrupted the tender moment. “I think I should get ready to go.”
She felt it too and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Thanks for coming over.”
As she walked him to the door, she felt the warmth of a strange contentment. It was completely foreign. She followed behind him and as he opened the door, she leaned against the wall. “Come visit anytime.”
He grinned. “I will. I have to.”
“You have to?” she asked puzzled.
His grin widened and she thought it made his handsome face even more so.
“I owe you dinner, remember?” he joked.
“Oh yeah. I forgot for a minute,” she nodded, remembering his offer. “Be careful, okay. It seems like a long walk.”
“Actually, it isn’t,” he said. “There’s a shortcut, a bunch of them actually. I know all, or at least most, of them.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened slightly and he noticed tiny flecks of gold in their warmth.
He pointed to the window facing the back of her property. “Yeah. Lacey always had a bunch of kids around her, and they showed up at our door a lot. They would cut through the woods all the time, so I guess I picked it up. There’s at least a hundred trails out there.” There was a brief silence where they just stared at each other. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who felt the attraction as he heard her breath quicken. “I can show you sometime, if you want,” he offered.
She smiled politely and it twisted his gut in a good way.
“I’d really like that.” She leaned in and gave him a friendly hug. “Would you do me a favor?” she asked.
“Depends on what it is,” he joked.
“Please bring Cody with you next time. I love that girl.”
“I will,” he mumbled as he pulled back from her. The scent of lavender from her hair pleasantly lingered.
She watched from the kitchen window to see the path he’d talked about, and as he disappeared into the woods, she was left feeling cautiously optimistic about her new neighbor.
The ceiling was very lackluster, but Carter stared at it anyway trying to find answers. None came. They weren’t there last night, or the night before, or the night before that. It had been several weeks since he’d been to visit Aimee. He’d gone home after seeing her both puzzled and full of questions. Most of those were self-examination. He found her to be so much different than he thought she was, but then again he hadn’t tried to build a real friendship with her before. Expecting that he would only be with his brother for a short time, he really felt like he’d made acquaintances rather than friends. Now, after their visit, he wanted to know her better. It was so nice to talk to someone, and she was very interesting. She was really down to earth, which was a shocker. He knew she was difficult, but he was learning it was more of an act. Being a model he thought she would really be materialistic, but she dispelled the notion completely. There was no denying that she was a beautiful woman, but more than that she’d proven to be pleasant company. He hadn’t realized just how nice it was to sit and talk with a woman, especially one who seemed to enjoy him too. The evening had been a welcome diversion, but when he got home he was plagued with guilt. Thoughts of Aimee appeared without warning. Was it too soon, or had it been too long? He didn’t know what the rulebook said about dating after death of a spouse.
Those few weeks were nearing a month since his visit with her, but that night, as he walked through the woods toward home, the first thought that entered his mind was when he would see her next. The original plan was to take her out the following weekend. He actually felt quite good about it—until he arrived home and walked through the door. Every corner held something which reminded him of Lacey and the conviction was overwhelming. Betrayal washed over him corrosively, and all because he enjoyed spending time with another woman. He hadn’t put himself in that situation before, so he didn’t quite know how to handle it. Grasping at straws, he took action which was appropriate for the circumstances.
Avoidance.
He hadn’t called her. The truth was he was afraid to call her. It should have been easy. Going out to dinner wasn’t a big deal. He picked up his cell several times, but never made the call. It wouldn’t have been so hard except he was attracted to her. He felt a certain satisfaction knowing that at least his body still responded to a beautiful woman—especially this woman. He knew just when it happened. It was in her living room when she wiped off the glass. It was like what Oprah would call an A-Ha moment.
Aww hell! He just referenced Oprah!
Night after night he tried to tell himself it was okay. Any man would have found her attractive and sexy. He tried to tell himself it was strictly a physical attraction, but memories of that night proved otherwise. Aimee was more than a pretty face. She was sweet and nice, but most of all she was real. Not just flesh and blood real, but down-to-earth real, and she had depth. Who would have thought she could do all that? What model would be into do-it-yourself projects? He really believed she wouldn’t want to get her hands dirty, but she surprised him. She spoke with pride about turning trash into treasure, and he had to give it to her, the finished product was really good.
Once again he turned restlessly on the sofa, alerting Cody. She picked up her head, looked at him, then laid it back down. It was her way of checking to see that he was okay. He didn’t know what he would have done without her. She had been his constant companion, and she pretended to be a watchdog. Lacey always said she was so friendly that if anyone ever broke in she’d show them where the valuables were. That was another thing he liked about Aimee. She loved Cody. Damn! She keeps getting in his head.
Enough was enough. He was too tired to fight with his thoughts, so he just let them wander.
She was the last image in his mind before he fell asleep.
Finally! After his long bout of insomnia, he couldn’t believe he’d slep
t all through the night.
It was the first time in over a year. He didn’t know if it was because he had such pleasant thoughts when he fell asleep, or the energy the new business provided, not to mention the diversion. It consumed much of his time, which he’d expected. Together with his partners, they spent hours strategizing how to best protect their clients, and Carter welcomed the challenge. He collected the papers from the top of his desk. He’d need them for the meeting this afternoon. Marc and Falcon would be arriving soon for their weekly strategy session, and the real woman in his life was sitting on the floor, beside his legs, waiting to be fed.
A loud knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Once Cody began her deep, incessant barking, she didn’t stop until she saw that it was Marc. He held pizzas in his hand and the aroma made her very friendly. She began to nuzzle his leg.
“Hey girl,” he said, sitting the pizza on the table. He stooped down to give her some love, her fur jostling as he scratched at her sides. “You missed me—you know you did,” he said as he showered her with affection. “Go lay down girl. I promise my pizza crust has your name on it.” Obediently, Cody turned toward her bed only to be roused again by another visitor knocking.
The scene replayed as Falcon arrived with a six-pack in each hand. Once he’d had his own personal time with Cody, she calmed down and went to her bed, watching all three of them. Falcon handed them each a beer and put the remainder in the refrigerator.
“So what’s up?” Fal asked. “It’s only been a week, but from the stats you sent it looks like we have six more businesses on board.”
Carter and Marc took a seat at the table, joining him. While Carter distributed a pack of papers, they started in on their meeting. Business was good and the figures reflected it. MarSin Falcon was growing much more quickly than anticipated. Most of the businesses which had entertained their proposals had now become clients. The men were anticipating an expansion in the neighboring counties and cities. As each of them gave an account of their respective areas, they also focused on growth and were hopeful for future expansion. After an hour and a half or so, the business part of the meeting began to die down.
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