When Seth climbed in, he adjusted the air conditioning to a lower level. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect.” She noticed a small white bakery box on the middle console. “What’s this?”
“Something new I want you to try.” He backed the car out and pulled out of the apartment parking lot.
“Hmm.” Gwen picked up the box and opened it. “A cream puff?”
“Yep, but it’s not any ordinary cream puff.” Seth glanced over at her and winked.
The wink pretty much sent goose bumps skittering across her arms. If Seth noticed, she’d claim it was the air conditioning. “Nothing you do is ordinary, Seth Owens.”
He smiled. “Can I take that as a compliment?”
Gwen laughed. “Take it however you want. Before I taste what I’m sure is delicious, I want to know the story behind it.”
“Story?” he asked, as if he was confused by her question.
She nudged his arm.
“Okay, so I woke up early this morning—like normal people.” He cast her a sidelong glance, and she scoffed. “And when I was out running . . .”
Of course he ran—with those thighs—and probably lifted weights, too, since she doubted that his muscled shoulders came from decorating cupcakes. Anyway . . .
“I thought of the éclairs Pierre makes. They’re delicious, of course, but pretty ordinary as far as desserts go.” He steered the car onto the highway. “I started thinking about the She-Devil dessert and how you said to put a slice of each flavor on the plate. So I thought about how maybe the éclair could be paired with something.”
Gwen took out the cream puff and held it up. “With this?”
“With that.”
She took a bite, and a burst of orange inundated her taste buds. It was the last flavor she’d expected. Without saying anything to Seth, she took a second bite and closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the seat. “This is like orange heaven, if there is such a thing.”
Seth’s finger brushed against the side of her mouth, and Gwen’s eyes flew open. He only grinned and licked his finger. “Missed some cream.”
Gwen touched her mouth but didn’t find anymore.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think . . .” She set the rest of the cream puff back into the box. “I’m going to gain a hundred pounds if I keep being your taste tester.”
His mouth curved. “I like watching your reaction, and I don’t mind watching you eat.”
Heat flooded Gwen’s face, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice her blushing. Eyes on the road. “What’s in it? Orange flavoring, or something more?”
“A little something more.” His gaze flickered to hers, then returned to the road.
“So, what’s the name of the cream puff?” she asked, trying to keep herself from staring at his profile and how it was obvious that while he might have showered, he hadn’t shaved.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he said. “Want to come up with some ideas?”
“Hmm.” Gwen looked out the window. “Summer puff? A Puff of Sun? Yummy Orange Puff? Seth’s Puff?”
“Stop,” he said with a laugh. “I think I’ll just figure it out later.”
Gwen looked over at him, unable to keep the smile off her face. “They weren’t that bad, were they?”
His eyes connected with hers. “Do you want me to sugar-coat it or tell you the truth?”
Gwen laughed and shook her head.
“Tell me about those diamond earrings you wore last week,” he said.
She released a slow breath. Seth had a good memory. And he was persistent. And . . . after all the time they’d spent together, did she really have a good reason to keep holding back? “They were my grandmother’s,” she said, “who died when I was fifteen. I was already going through a hard time at that age, so her death only made things worse. She was my favorite person in the world.” Surprisingly, tears didn’t fall as she spoke of her grandmother this time. Gwen wanted to stop talking, knew she should stop talking, because if she didn’t, then the whole ugly story would come out. “I ran away. Not too far—only three blocks to one of my friend’s houses. When her mom got tired of me living in the guest bedroom, she sent me back home.”
“Did your parents ground you?”
“That would have probably been better than what they did do,” Gwen said. “I mean, they were afraid I was going to spontaneously combust if they said something wrong. It was like egg shells had been strewn in every room of our house. I told them I was cancelling my birthday bash they’d been planning, that I didn’t want any gifts, cake, candles, or cards. Nothing.” She shrugged. “If my grandma had to be confined to a casket, I didn’t want anything around me either.”
“I’m sorry about your grandma,” Seth said in a quiet voice.
She nodded. The old lump was indeed forming in her throat. She inhaled. Exhaled. Then swallowed. “When I woke up on the morning of my birthday, I found a small jewelry box on my nightstand. No note. No card. I knew it was from my parents, and I almost threw it out. Instead, I opened it. The minute I saw the earrings, I knew they’d been my grandma’s.” Her eyes started to burn, and she blinked rapidly. Breathed again. “I wore them every day for a year. I even slept in them.” She brushed at the single tear that had escaped.
Seth rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Your grandma must have been an amazing lady.”
Gwen looked over at him. The weight of his hand was warm and solid on her shoulder. Comforting. “I think I was heading for a teenage meltdown no matter what. Her death brought it on faster.”
Seth moved his hand and steered the car off the next exit.
The drive had gone by fast; they were already near the homeless shelter. “Is there a story behind all of your earrings?”
“Not any so interesting,” Gwen said, her emotions calming. “Most of them I get on clearance.”
Seth flashed her a smile. “You’re resourceful. I like that.”
“You do?” Gwen asked. “I mean, I thought you liked the high-maintenance women—you know, like Cynthia.”
Seth chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot and stopped in a space at the far end.
“What’s so funny?”
He put the car into park, leaving it on, and turned toward her. “You don’t think you’re high maintenance?”
“Not even close.” She held out her hands. “I do my own nails.” She touched her hair. “Natural color.” She ran her hands down her blouse. “All real.”
He had the decency to redden.
Then she pointed to her shoes. “Five dollars on clearance.”
“I’m not talking about looks or clothing.”
Gwen stared at him. “That’s the definition of high maintenance.”
“That’s one definition.” He lifted his hand and tugged at her braid, then let his hand rest on her shoulder again so that his fingers grazed her neck. “What about the woman who immediately rejects a man because of his upbringing—something he has no control over?”
She opened her mouth to reply, because she could see exactly where he was going with this—but he cut her off.
“What about the woman who refuses to get a car that can make it up a gentle incline—”
“Your house is on a massive hill—”
“What about the woman who refuses to take a night off work to go on a date?”
“Seth—”
“Shh. I’m not finished.” His thumb arced a line along her collarbone.
She stilled as waves of warmth traveled through the rest of her body.
“What about the woman who turns down every guy who asks her out?” he continued. “Or the woman who stays up all night to make sure her homeless friends get Fourth-of-July cupcakes?”
“That’s not really—”
He moved his fingers to her lips as if to hush her, and she stopped talking. “What about the woman who teases me every day yet won’t go out with me?”
Gwen’s heart was
racing, and she heard the truth in his words . . . although they were still ridiculous. “Are you finished yet?”
He lowered his hand, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “I’m just getting started.”
“I think you should take your own advice and stop making lists.”
He gave a quiet laugh. “I will if you will.”
She exhaled, long and slow. His hand was back on her shoulder, his fingers warm against the base of her neck. “You have a deal,” she whispered.
Seth tilted his head, and she knew he wanted to kiss her. But he was doing that infernal waiting thing. So Gwen leaned closer and brushed her lips against his. He didn’t move for a moment, then slid his hand behind her neck and drew her closer. And kissed her slowly.
Everything inside Gwen buzzed as she kissed him back. Seth had cracked her walls, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But right now, she let herself get lost in his warmth and touch.
It was usually the woman who wanted to define a relationship. So, where do we go from here? Or, how do you feel about me? Or, are we going to be exclusive?
All these things Seth wanted to ask, but all these things would probably send Gwen packing. Yet, something had changed in the car on the way to the homeless shelter. Seth felt it, and he was pretty sure Gwen did too. The kissing had been great and kept getting better, in his opinion, but that wasn’t what had changed. They’d finally connected at a deeper level.
Standing next to her in the serving line again while she chatted with her homeless friends made Seth both proud of and in awe of her. Not only was the chemistry between them intense, but she was like a breath of fresh air in his life, as well as to the people around her. Everyone she spoke to left with a smile on their face.
The food du jour was chicken enchiladas, which looked pretty impressive, considering they’d been made en masse. When Seth had suggested whipping up a green chili sauce to go with it, Gwen had shushed him and told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t the chef in this kitchen.
Seth loved her sassiness and had wanted to grab her and pull her into a kiss right in front of everyone, but then he thought better of it. At least for now.
Gwen nudged him when the line had dwindled and Mac was walking among the tables, dishing out seconds of enchiladas. “You look pretty hot,” she said. “And I don’t mean the attractiveness kind.”
Seth turned to look at her. “Yeah, it’s like an oven in here.” He noticed the sheen of perspiration on her forehead as well. “Should I take off my shirt?”
She smiled and placed her hand on his chest.
His heart about leapt out.
“Tempting, but no.” She moved past him and filled up a paper cup with water and ice, then handed it to him. “We can’t have our workers passing out on the job.”
He grinned, then gulped down the water. When he finished, he said, “I always look hotter than I really am.”
Gwen arched a brow, and he laughed.
“I mean, like when I used to play sports, I was always the kid with the red face.” He shrugged. “I can see you don’t have that problem.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sweaty right now,” she said. “I just bear it like a lady.”
Seth moved a strand of hair from her moist face. She didn’t move, which he took as a good sign. “So, is the shelter getting an air conditioning unit soon?”
She wrinkled her brow. “It was like this last summer, so I doubt it.”
“Do you think they’d accept a donation of an air conditioning system if I arranged it?”
Her blue eyes widened. “Are you serious?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Are you going to get your dad involved?”
“I should be offended,” he said, “but I’m going to let it slide. And no, I’m not going to get my dad involved. I’ll do it myself.”
“But . . . it will cost thousands, and I thought you were living with your parents to—”
“It will only set me back a few weeks,” he said. “Remember all those fabulous desserts I’m inventing? The profit margin is healthy, especially since I’ve convinced Pierre to order local ingredients versus imported.”
“If we weren’t standing in the middle of this kitchen, I might kiss you right now.”
Seth rested his hands on her hips, risking a bit of PDA. “Kitchens are kind of our thing.”
This time, her face did redden. “Well, Mr. Owens, I can’t argue with you there. But you are quite sweaty. And if you move any closer, we’re definitely going to have an audience.” She neatly stepped away from him.
Seth resisted the impulse to grab her hand. They cleaned up the kitchen together, and Seth chatted with Mac while Gwen made her rounds to say goodbye to those who were still hanging around. Mac was highly in favor of a new air conditioning system.
“Thanks, man,” Mac said. “I appreciate your help, and I’m glad Gwen has a friend.”
Seth was surprised at the comment. “Gwen seems to have a lot of friends.”
Mac rubbed the side of his neck. “Not any who have her back. She needs someone like that. She’s always helping someone else, you know, and sometimes I wonder who is helping her.”
“True.” Seth cut a glance over to Gwen, who was currently laughing with Jerry. “She’s a tough woman.”
“Tough on the outside,” Mac commented.
Just then Gwen turned and saw Seth and Mac watching her. She said goodbye to Jerry and strode over. “What’s up?”
“We’re extolling your virtues,” Seth replied.
“Really?” She looked to Mac for confirmation.
“Yep,” Mac said. “Lots of virtues. Dozens.” He chuckled and turned away. “See you kids next week, and I’m hoping the place will be a good twenty degrees cooler.”
“Count on it,” Seth called to Mac as he pushed through the back door.
“You told him?” Gwen asked, meeting his gaze.
“I did.”
“Do you think the install can happen as fast as next week?”
“I have a few connections.”
She rested her hands on her hips. “Oh, really?”
“Really.” He tugged at one of her hands and linked their fingers. She didn’t pull back. “Let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you.”
“Air conditioners?” she asked, walking with him outside.
“Nope,” he said. “A surprise.”
“Wait.” Gwen tightened her hold on his hand and tugged him to a stop. “Is this a date?”
He paused, enjoying the way the breeze moved the strands of hair away from her neck. It was hard to be this near her and not touch her. “It can be a date. Or not. It’s up to you.”
“Will you buy me dinner if it’s a date?”
He grinned. “Definitely.”
She started walking again, still holding his hand. “All right. I’ll stop guessing, and you pay for dinner.”
Seth tried to breathe normally, but his heart was racing. This was different. A good different. He unlocked and started the car with his key fob so by the time he’d opened her door, the air conditioning was blasting through the vents, trying to undo two hours of heat.
Gwen slid into her seat, and Seth walked around to the driver’s side.
The farmer’s market wasn’t far from the homeless shelter, and Seth had only been to it a couple of times. He wasn’t usually able to make the drive, but he’d remembered that it was open on Wednesdays and Saturdays.
“Here we are,” he said as he pulled into the dirt lot that doubled as a parking area. The stalls were set up at the edge of a park with towering trees, so at least there was plenty of shade.
“What is this? A swap meet?”
“A farmer’s market.”
Gwen smiled and turned her gaze on him. “You brought me to a farmer’s market?”
He shrugged. “Yep. What were your other guesses?”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .” Her eyes gleamed. “Maybe a seafood restaurant by the coast that takes three months to get a r
eservation, or maybe a stroll through some eclectic art museum.”
“I’m not sure if you’ve underestimated or overestimated me,” he said. “But I’m a pretty simple guy.”
“More like myopic.”
“Yeah—myopic,” he said. “But you like food, right? And you’re hungry?”
“Yes to both.” Gwen opened her door, and by the time Seth climbed out and walked around the car, she’d already stood and shut the door.
Seth led her to a booth that sold woven bags, and he bought a couple, then handed one to Gwen. “In case you see something you want to buy.”
She took the bag, and they started browsing the different sellers that had set up booths, simple stalls, and a couple who were selling produce directly from the beds of their trucks.
“Do you like eggplant?” Seth asked when they reached one of the sellers.
“Not particularly,” Gwen said, but she was curious enough to pick one up.
“Most people don’t even know it’s in the dish they’re eating,” Seth said. “It doesn’t have a strong taste.”
“Then why use it?” Gwen asked.
“It adds a greater constitution to a dish,” he said. “Besides, it’s healthy.”
“Good to know.” Gwen set the eggplant down.
Seth added an eggplant to his bag. The whir of a juice machine caught his attention. One of the vendors had the right idea to make smoothies on the spot, and, predictably, there was a line at the booth. “Want a smoothie?”
“Sure,” Gwen said, and when it was their turn in line, Seth ordered two.
“This had better not count as dinner,” she said, after taking the first sip from the straw.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your dinner.” Seth reached for her hand, and she linked her fingers with his. He could definitely get used to this.
They continued to browse. Well, Gwen browsed, and Seth loaded up on produce. He had some more ideas to try, nothing with dessert, and maybe, just maybe, Gwen would agree to let him cook lunch for her tomorrow.
“What’s this?” Gwen picked up a passion fruit melon.
“If you don’t know, you need to try it,” he said, adding it to his bag. “Passion fruit smoothies are the best.”
“Passion fruit? Really?”
Waiting for You_Pine Valley Page 12