“All for one and one for all?”
He smiled. “That’s us.”
It was with a great deal of reluctance that she pulled away, shattering the sensual spell of the man holding her captive. “I think it’s time we head back.” Sutton rose to stand. Reaching down, he cupped her elbow and helped her to her feet, waiting until she slipped her feet into her tennis shoes.
They’d spent less than two hours together, but it could’ve been two minutes. Time had passed much too quickly, but she would be left with the memory of a man who had unknowingly changed her to where she wanted more than friendship.
The return drive to the business district was accomplished in complete silence. Sutton left Zoey where she’d parked her vehicle on Sheridan Street. “I’ll bring the box back to your house after I make a quick stop.” At the last possible moment when she turned to get into her car, he dipped his head and brushed a kiss over her mouth.
“Drive safely,” he said, smiling.
“I will, and thank you for lunch.”
Sutton winked at her. “You’re most welcome. Do you mind if we do it again?”
“I’d love to do it again.” The instant the four-letter word slipped off her tongue, she chided herself for using it. But it was too late and there was no way to retract it.
She got into the van, secured her seat belt, started the engine and backed out of the space. She glanced up at the rearview mirror as she drove down the street, stopping at the railroad crossing. Sutton hadn’t moved.
The day had been one of surprises: Sutton had asked her to share lunch with him, they’d agreed to alternate preparing Sunday dinner, he’d volunteered to mentor Harper, and the most shocking thing was that he’d planned to stay in Wickham Falls.
Zoey hummed “O Happy Day,” and after a while she belted out full-throated the lyrics of one of her favorite songs. She continued to sing when she unlocked the front door and walked inside the house to find Harper sprawled on the sofa in the living room watching music videos.
He waved at her without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Sutton’s going to drop off a box with your school clothes.”
“Okay.”
“Have you had lunch?” she asked him.
“Yeah. I had the rest of the shrimp salad and coleslaw. Can I go to Triple Jay’s after dinner?”
“Why don’t you have him come here instead of you always hanging out at his house?”
Zoey didn’t want him to wear out his welcome.
“We don’t have a game room.”
She wanted to tell her brother that she had no intention of setting up a game room in the house when in two years most of his free-time focus would no longer be video games but college courses. “Yes, you can go but don’t stay too late.”
“I won’t.”
Zoey knew his hanging out with his friend would soon come to an end with the resumption of classes. Every August was a milestone. Now it would be eight years down, two to go, and that meant she was closer to her dream of enrolling in nursing school.
Chapter Nine
“How do they look now, Mr. Reed?”
Sutton peered into the pot with the sautéed onions and slivers of apples. They had turned a pale translucent color. “They’re good. Now you can put in the cabbage.”
Harper had asked if he could assist in preparing Sunday dinner and Sutton was amazed by his infectious enthusiasm. He’d discovered Zoey’s brother was not only eager to learn but was willing to work hard at whatever task he’d taken on.
Sutton had set up the basketball hoop in the neighboring backyard, and the first time Harper put the ball through the net he knew the kid had what it took to make the high school’s basketball team. Although he had to perfect his footwork, his ability to make free throws and three-pointers was remarkable.
They’d been running every morning for almost two weeks, and he was able to connect with Harper as a mentee in a way that hadn’t been possible with the other boys because of their direct contact. They saw each other every day and he knew it was the reason for the increasing bond between them. Harper would occasionally drop hints about him and Zoey, but Sutton was able to successfully shift the conversation away from him and the boy’s sister.
The details surrounding his running into Zoey and sharing a picnic lunch with her at The Clearing had lingered with him for days. However, he’d realized his faux pas when asking if he could underwrite the cost of her nursing school tuition, and knew it was wrong for him assume she would have to apply for financial loans to support her higher education.
He’d also discovered at twenty-eight she was a lot more mature than women he’d met who were ten to fifteen years older, and he attributed that to her taking on the herculean responsibility of raising a six-and eight-year-old when still a teenager.
Her natural beauty notwithstanding, it was her strength, focus, self-confidence and determination that drew him to her. He’d also found her upbeat and positive, traits he had come to admire in a woman with whom he wanted to interact. Sutton totally believed in the adage that if life gives you lemons, then make lemonade, while his mantra was if you fall or fail, then get up and do it over as many times as it will take until you succeed.
Sutton watched Harper as he dropped handfuls of shredded cabbage into the pot, stirring it with a wooden spoon until the leaves were slightly wilted. Harper admitted he enjoyed cooking and would on occasion help prep ingredients for Zoey whenever they made meals together.
“This smells so good,” Harper said, smiling.
Leaning against the countertop, Sutton crossed his arms over his chest. “Not only should food smell and taste delicious, but it should also look good.”
Harper gave him a quick glance. “Mr. Reed, I think I know what I want to study when I go to college.”
“What is that?” Sutton asked.
“Culinary arts. I want to become a chef.”
Sutton had no idea that when he’d called him “chef” the afternoon they’d grilled out in his backyard that the moniker was predestined. “You really like cooking that much?”
“Yup. A lot of boys I know want to be rappers or entrepreneurs when they don’t know what they want to sell. I don’t remember that much about my mom, except the stories she used to tell me about growing up in a trailer next to her family’s restaurant. She said everyone ordered their fried chicken and barbecue ribs.”
“Is the restaurant still in business?”
“Nope. It burned down. Mom drove me and Kyle to see it. The trailer where she lived was also gone.”
Sutton studied the tall, slender boy who’d brushed his hair off his face and styled it in a ponytail. “So, it looks as if you inherited your family’s gene for cooking,” he teased.
“I guess,” Harper agreed. “I went online to research cooking schools and the closest ones are in DC, Maryland or northern Virginia.”
“That’s close enough for you to drive whenever you want to come home.”
Harper covered the pot with a lid and took if off the heat. “Were you afraid to leave the Falls when you first went to college?”
“No, because I went to visit the campus for an incoming freshman orientation before the start of classes. The four years I spent at the University of Florida were some of the best and most memorable in my life.”
“Do you think Zoey will be all right if I leave the Falls to go to college in another state?”
“Trust me, Harper. Your sister will be okay.”
“Can I ask you something, Mr. Reed?”
Sutton sensed a change in the boy’s demeanor along with his expression. Something was bothering him. “Of course.”
“I know you said you’re going to live here, but once I leave can you promise me that you’ll look out for Zoey?”
Suddenly, Sutton saw Harper in a whole new light. It was appar
ent that he took his role as man of the house very seriously, while Sutton saw an adolescent on the cusp of manhood. Harper did not know that he would look out for Zoey even if he hadn’t asked him. There was so much he liked and admired about Harper’s sister, and living next door to each other for the next eight to nine months, and their plan to share Sunday dinner twice each month, while mentoring her brother, was certain to cement their friendship.
“Yes, Harper. I promise to look out for your sister.” He gave Harper a fist bump, sealing their deal. The doorbell chimed and Sutton glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was exactly three. “Check on the sweet potatoes while I get the door.”
* * *
Zoey smiled up at Sutton when he opened the door. It was the first time she’d seen him wearing a dress shirt and tailored slacks, which she doubted had come off a rack because they’d expertly fit his tall, muscular physique. The gray in his black hair was more visible now that it was no longer stubble. She extended a covered container with a dozen miniature cheesecakes.
“Just a little something for dessert.”
Sutton dipped his head and kissed her cheek. “They truly are little.”
“I know that you’re watching your waistline, so I decided to make miniatures that are very close to being guilt-free.”
Sutton’s eyes lingered on her face before shifting lower to her feet. “By the way, you look very nice.”
Zoey no longer felt flustered or uneasy whenever Sutton stared at her because she was more than ready if he wanted a relationship with her. She wasn’t so naive that she did not know when a man was either interested or attracted to her—and Sutton was no different. Initially she thought he’d volunteered to mentor Harper as a foil to get closer to her until she recalled his involvement in serving youth during his professional baseball career. However, it was his longing looks, gentle touch and caressing kisses that had awakened her celibate body.
“Thank you.”
She’d washed and blown out her chemically relaxed hair and used a curling iron to achieve a profusion of curls framing her face and falling to her shoulders. A light cover of makeup and white silk blouse, ice-blue linen slacks and matching ballet slipper shoes completed her casual chic outfit.
“Please come in and rest yourself. My sous chef is putting the finishing touches on dinner.”
Zoey followed him into the house that was as familiar as her own. Miss Sharon was one of two neighbors she could depend on to come through whenever she needed a babysitter. “Has Harper taken over your kitchen?”
“Not yet,” Sutton said, smiling. “He’s a natural when it comes to following instructions.”
“He’s like his mother. Charmaine loved to cook.”
Sutton rested his free hand at the small of her back. “It looks as if the both of you had a very talented teacher.”
Zoey glanced at the dining room table with place settings for three. She walked into the kitchen and was met with a plethora of aromas that tantalized her olfactory nerves. Her eyes focused on a pork roast with apple sausage stuffing on a large platter. Harper, wearing oven mitts, took a casserole dish out of the oven and set it on a trivet.
Her heart swelled with pride when she stared at her brother moving around the kitchen with the confidence he’d acquired when helping her prepare dishes. Harper was a masculine version of his mother; their personalities were similar as well as their likes and dislikes. Unlike Kyle, who would come home from school and go to his bedroom to do homework, Harper would sit at the kitchen table and watch her cook. And once he was old enough to look over the stove, he would ask if he could help her. At no time could she refuse his enthusiasm because she remembered when she would ask her stepmother to teach her how to make a particular dish.
Harper glanced up, smiling. “Hey, Zoey.” He pointed to the pork roast. “Look at what Mr. Reed made.”
She returned his smile. Seeing the ponytail made her aware of why he’d asked for one of her elastic hair ties. “It looks beautiful and smells scrumptious.” The pork, roasted a golden brown, was topped with a stuffing reminiscent of what she would prepare for a Thanksgiving turkey.
Sutton removed a pitcher of chilled lemonade from the refrigerator. “I baked extra stuffing to go with the leftover chops.”
Zoey estimated there were more than a dozen ribs on the large roast. “You will be eating leftovers for days.”
“Wrong, Zoey,” Sutton countered. “All of us will be eating leftover pork chops. When I told the butcher at the Village Market that I wanted a crown roast of pork for three people with enough for leftovers, he probably thought I was feeding a basketball team.”
“I don’t mind eating pork every day,” Harper announced proudly. “Ribs and pulled pork are my favorites.”
“I’m more a chicken man,” Sutton admitted, staring at Zoey. “Legs in particular.”
She gave him a what are you trying to say look as she recalled the morning when she’d sat on the porch in a tank top and pair of shorts, reading. Zoey had noticed Sutton staring at her legs.
“You like legs and I like breasts,” Harper added.
“Can I help with anything?” Zoey volunteered. Judging from the exchange of glances between her brother and his mentor, she’d assumed they were referring to body and not chicken parts.
Sutton handed her the pitcher. “You can put this on the table while I bring over the roast.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, Zoey sat at the table with Harper and Sutton, holding hands while she said grace. What followed was a feast of fork-tender stuffing made with cubed bread, Italian sausage, chopped onion celery, tart Granny Smith apples and fresh herbs she was able to identify as sage, thyme and parsley. The sweet potato casserole topped with ground pecans and sweet-and-sour red cabbage were the perfect complement for the meat and stuffing. To say Sutton was a good cook was an understatement. He was exceptional, and it was apparent his mother-in-law had taught him well.
“Is your mother a good cook?” she asked him.
“Yes. Granny Dot made certain her daughters learned to cook. However, she had less success with teaching them to knit, crochet or quilt. That’s when Georgi became her student.”
“She learned well, because the handmade garments exhibited in her shop are beautiful.”
“You’ve been to A Stitch at a Time?”
“Yes. Georgina asked me to stop by and I’ve committed to knitting a cap and scarf for cancer patients whenever they complete the new wing at the county hospital.”
“My cousin can be quite persuasive when she wants to be. I told her I would represent the Falls during the ribbon-cutting ceremony.”
Zoey smiled at Sutton. “There’s nothing wrong with using your celebrity status if it’s for a good cause.”
“Mr. Reed, can you be one of the speakers at my graduation?” Harper asked.
Sutton set down his knife and fork, and then touched his napkin to the corners of his mouth. “That would depend on the school’s administration.”
“But you graduated from Wickham Falls High School,” Harper insisted.
“I still would have to get authorization from the school board.”
“Maybe I’ll run for a seat on the student council and we can petition the principal to have Mr. Reed become our commencement speaker.”
Zoey shared a look with Sutton; in the past Harper didn’t want to become involved in any student government activities, despite her suggestion he join one or two of the school-based clubs because it would look good on his college applications. Good grades weren’t enough when college officials also weighed community service and extracurricular activities.
Sutton rested an elbow on the table. “If you’re able to convince them, then I definitely will become your commencement speaker.”
Harper stared down at his plate. “Zoey has been bugging me to get more involved in school activ
ities because that’s what colleges are looking for.”
Sutton winked at Zoey. “She’s right. I joined the French club, was a student council member and played on the baseball team. I also did community service at the animal shelter in Mineral Springs.”
“What did you do there?”
“I was assigned to cleaning cages and walking dogs for exercise. I didn’t grow up with a pet, but after caring for dogs and cats that would eventually be put down if they weren’t adopted, I’d become a pet lover.”
“Have you ever had a pet?” Zoey asked Sutton.
“Not yet. I didn’t want one while I played ball because I didn’t want to leave it whenever I had away games. And my condo had a no-pet rule.”
“We did not grow up with an animal because my father was allergic to pet dander,” Zoey said before Sutton could ask her about whether she’d had a dog or cat. “I like cats because they’re quiet and independent, but if I had to choose it would be a dog.”
“Zoey, would you be willing to come with me to the shelter to choose a dog once I’m settled into my permanent home?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
“Which one do you want, Mr. Reed. A rottweiler or pit bull?”
Frowning, Sutton shook head. “Those are breeds I wouldn’t consider adopting, because I’m partial to terriers.”
Harper appeared shocked. “You want one of those little dogs you can put in a purse?”
“Why not?” His expression was impassive. “What’s wrong with carrying a dog in a bag?”
“But...but a big dude like you with a tiny dog.”
“So, are you saying big dudes need big dogs and little dudes little dogs? And when the time comes whenever I invite my fur baby into his forever home, he will have hair and not fur, because I don’t want him shedding everywhere, and he will be small enough so as not to jump up on my bed or furniture when I’m not there.”
Zoey hid a smile when her brother dropped his eyes. It was obvious Harper had come down with a case of foot-in-mouth. And it was apparent Sutton was a neat freak. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “If I eat any more I won’t have room for dessert.”
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