by Scott, Lisa
He set his elbows on his knees and leaned toward her. “What are you feeling?”
She propped her elbows on her knees, too, and leaned toward him, their fingers still entwined, their noses almost touching. “What I never thought I could feel again.” Her words came out in barely a whisper.
But they hit their mark. He took her face in his hands and gently swiped his lips across hers. She grabbed his thighs for balance and answered his kiss with a groan buried in her throat and goose bumps prickling her arms.
He broke the kiss and looked at her, his eyes searching hers.
“This is what I want,” she said. The house or him? She didn’t know. Sure you do.
He set his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer for another kiss, the boat rocking with the movement. “Liz…”
“Mmm?”
“Mmm,” he answered back with a growl.
And his cell rang.
He ignored it and rubbed his thumbs along her cheekbones, as his tongue met hers.
The phone continued ringing.
He broke their kiss. “I better answer that.” His shoulders slumped and he reached for the phone. “Henry Watson here.” He listened for a moment. “I’m in the middle of a showing.”
A showing. That’s right. Liz’s heart seized up like an overheated engine. This was just business to him. Why did she keep forgetting that? He was trying to romance her into buying this house. He was trying to get her to feel things she had no business feeling again. She tipped up her chin and crossed her arms. She wasn’t going to let him know her heart had gotten carried away for a moment. She had this totally under control.
He nodded and listened. “Great, great. Good news. I’ll get to the office and draw up an offer.” He closed the phone and sighed. “I’ve got a client ready to make an offer on a property that’s been getting a lot of action. They’re afraid it’s going to get sold out from under them. I’ve got to get back to the office.” He picked up the oar and started rowing.
She forced a smile. “That’s great news for the sales record.”
He nodded and said nothing.
They were silent for a while as he made his way back to the shore. “What did you think about the house?”
She closed her eyes, pushed Henry’s face out of the picture and focused on the house. She smiled at the image: the pond, the trees, the art studio. She’d never imagined a place like this existed. “You’re definitely on the right track. You certainly set the scene well. Staging, it’s called, right?” There it was. Henry was the ultimate stager.
“Right.” He grinned. “Good, you liked it. I like when my instincts are right—and they usually are. Should we make an offer, or do you want to see more houses next Saturday morning?”
She wasn’t going to let her emotions spook her. She needed a house. “I like this, but I want to see a few more. Can we squeeze in one or two, say, Wednesday? For something just like this?”
His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t look away. “More of this?”
She knew what he meant, but she could handle it because she knew what is really was: an incredible sales job and nothing more. For once, she wasn’t going to run. She could play Henry’s game without getting hurt.
“More of this. That’s what I want.”
Chapter 7
He drove to the office faster than he should have. Not because he was eager to make the deal, which he was. No, he was driving like he could leave his feelings behind at the log cabin. Attraction is one thing. But what he was experiencing threatened to be something much more. And he’d kissed her. A client! Thank god for that phone call.
Even so, as he put together the offer and set up an appointment with the listing agent, he was already imagining his next meeting with Liz. He wanted to find something that would dazzle her again. He’d been right on the money with the log cabin and all it’s extras. Once he was finished with the offer, he got back on the computer and started hunting for properties he hadn’t considered before.
He pulled a few small skipping stones out of his pocket and set them in a dish on his desk, palming a rock, smiling as he remembered her look of glee when she finally mastered it.
His phone rang and he set down the stone, grabbing his cell on the second ring. “Henry Watson, here.”
“You mean Henry Watson Jr.,” his father said on the end of the line.
Henry kicked his bottom desk drawer shut. “Hi, Dad. What’s up, I’m putting together an offer.”
“Good, good. Glad to hear it. I know it’s late notice, but your mother was hoping you could join us for dinner tomorrow.”
Henry rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d love to, but I can’t. Got a pile of work in front of me.”
“Come on, all those years I was the top salesman, I still made time for weekend dinners with the family.”
He opened his mouth to argue that he didn’t have a wife and kids yet, and that dinner with the folks wasn’t quite the same commitment. But then he closed it and leaned back in his chair. “I hadn’t mentioned it before, but I’m on track to break the all time sales record at the office this month and I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, so it’s really out of the question this week.”
Silence on the other line, then, “Really? The all time sales record? You mean my record.” Silence again, but longer this time. “Good for you. Surprised you haven’t broken it sooner with the Internet and all the tools you agents have now. It’s a lot easier these days.”
Henry rolled his eyes and bit his tongue—a familiar gesture when dealing with his father. “We’ll do dinner another time, Dad.”
His father cleared his throat. “I do have a favor to ask of you. Next Saturday your mother is intending to drag me to some charity thing but I’ve already agreed to be in a golf tournament. Do tell me you’ll go with her? Great networking opportunity and it’ll keep your mother happy.”
Henry let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples.
“It’s at the university, should be some important people there.”
“The university?”
“Yes, some scholarship dinner. What do you say?”
He grinned. “I’ll be there.” And hopefully, so will a beautiful brunette with excellent taste in homes.
He printed out a list of ten potential homes, each with a unique, retreat-like aspect to it. He picked up his phone to call Liz, but realized it was ten o’clock Saturday night. He’d have to wait. He growled in frustration. Then he turned to the stack of papers waiting his attention and realized he needed to get moving or he might not beat the sales record after all. And wouldn’t his father enjoy gloating over that?
***
Elizabeth was agonizing over a press release that she could usually turn out in half an hour. After two hours of work, she’d only written two sentences. She wiggled her fingers, admiring her new deep-red nail polish. She’d been a pearly pink gal for years. It was a nice change.
Theresa noticed her loafing off and leaned over from the next cubicle. “Get it together, girl. Don’t think the higher ups around here aren’t keeping track of everything. I know I give you a hard time, but I like you.” She gave Elizabeth a soft punch in the arm.
She rubbed her eyes. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Like whether she might get another kiss from her realtor at their next showing? And if she needed to upgrade her lingerie anytime soon? “I’m just distracted.”
“With the house hunting?” Theresa asked.
She nodded.
“Better watch your step, or you won’t be able to buy a house.”
Somehow, the idea didn’t send panic coursing through her like it would have just two weeks ago. She just hadn’t been herself since beginning her house hunting. Since Henry.
Her cell rang and she wondered what wedding crisis Julie was facing now.
“Hello?”
“Do you think you’ll be bringing a date?”
Elizabeth laughed and plucked a dead leaf off the ivy plant on her desk. “What
do you think?”
“Good. Because Jim’s best man is single, too, and you two will be spending a lot of time together that night. And if you don’t bring a date…well, who knows?”
“It’s six months away, Julie. Please don’t try to set me up with the best man already.”
“But you’re right, you won’t have a date. If you were really interested in a relationship, you’d have found someone by now. Cool. I’m so excited! That would make my wedding perfect, if someone else fell in love there…”
“When I said I’d help you with anything, I certainly didn’t mean that. You know me. Set your matchmaking sites on someone else.”
“Party pooper.”
“You can put that on my tombstone.” She hung up and caught Debbie looking at her, shaking her head.
“Come on. I’m not that desperate.”
Debbie pretended to zip her lip and throw away the key.
Dave looked up from his pile of paperwork on his desk and smiled at her.
She quickly turned back to her computer.
On the way home, she decided to pick up a pint of woe-is-me ice cream. Since everybody else was feeling sorry for her, seemed like she ought to join the club. But instead of parking in front the grocery store in the big strip plaza, she drove past it and found herself in front of the art store. She thought about the log cabin and imagined herself seated in front of an easel, painting the spring trees in bloom. She ran her fingers up and down the steering wheel, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest. She sat in her car for five minutes before deciding to go in. “I’m just going to look.”
She walked in and her heart jammed into her throat. She pushed back the feeling and rushed over to the brushes. She ran her fingers over their tips. She closed her eyes, and remembered her art kit back in school. The palette. The dozens of brushes. The smock she wore when she worked.
She took a deep breath and went over to the paints. She peeked over her shoulder and saw that the clerk was helping another customer. A tube of burnt sienna oil sat on the shelf, and she twisted off the cap and inhaled deeply. The sharp smell sent to her to another time and place when her heart was open to so many possibilities. She felt younger and free sniffing that little tube of paint in the middle of the store.
She grabbed a shopping basket and started loading it with paints, brushes and canvases. She imagined sketching out the A-frame log cabin, then choosing just the right shades of browns and greens for the trees surrounding it. Maybe a scene with the rowboat. And Henry. His eyes and hands….his lips on hers…
A surge of hysteria hit her. She set down the basket and pushed her way out of the store, her arms wrapped around herself. She wasn’t ready to paint again. And she definitely wasn’t ready to trust a man again, certainly not a man who was only trying to make a sale—at any cost. Even if that included her heart.
Crying herself to sleep seemed like a good plan for the night, but her phone rang instead. Did Julie forget Elizabeth had a life, too? “Let me guess, you want someone to sketch portraits of the guests?”
“Hey, you could do that.”
“Joking. What’s up?”
“Number one, I found the cutest save-the-date magnets that I’m going to send out next week. And I almost finished setting up our wedding website.” She squealed and Elizabeth held the phone away from her ear.
“What is a wedding website for?”
“So people can see pictures and get the latest news on our wedding.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“Yes, but that’s not why I called.”
Elizabeth pressed her eyes shut and shook her head. “There’s more news than magnets and websites?”
“I was reading in one of the magazines that most brides today have two wedding dresses. One really gorgeous formal dress for the church, with the Princess Diana train and all that. And then a simpler one that’s easier for dancing at the reception. And I was thinking maybe of getting a third dress, for when we leave the reception. Didn’t they used to do that in the old days? A traveling dress? What do you think?”
Elizabeth dropped her head back on the couch and tried to keep her mouth shut. But she couldn’t. She was sick of holding back how she really felt about…well, everything. “You want to know what I really think? I think you’re more interested in planning a wedding than planning a marriage. You’re obsessing over every silly detail of the ceremony, the reception and even the brunch for your fifty-two bridesmaids to eat when they get their hair done.” She paused to take a deep breath and knew she couldn’t stop. “But I haven’t heard one word from you on how much your love your fiancé. How much you’re looking forward to spending you life with him. You are so lucky to have someone like Jim, but all you’re thinking about is impressing every one else with some extravagant, lavish wedding. You could buy your own house with the money you’ll be spending.”
Silence on the end of the line.
Regret on the end of hers. “Jules…” Elizabeth had never laid it out like that to her little sister. She was always patient with her and protective, especially after their mother had died. “I’m sorry. I just want you to get a little a perspective.”
Julie snorted. “You want me to get perspective? Me? Take a look at your own sorry life. You’re just jealous and it kills you to see me happier than you. Don’t worry I won’t bother you with my silly wedding plans anymore. I’m sure Kim will be thrilled to be my maid of honor. Consider yourself relieved of your duties.” She hung up.
She sat there, holding the phone and staring out into the night. Her life was sorry. It was work and nothing more. She hadn’t had a boyfriend—a real boyfriend, not a hook up—since Jason. And now her sister had shut her out. Her father was tied up with his new family. What did she have in her life?
She looked at the listing print outs from the homes she’d toured. That was something she could get right. She could have that, at least. Suddenly, she wanted a home more than anything.
She had to get over her feelings for Henry and focus on her goal: finding her perfect house, the original plan before her hormones had taken over the whole project. Her hormones had never caused her anything but trouble. She should have the damn things drained and sealed.
Chapter 8
Henry called Liz the next morning. “How does this sound, dinner at The Garden Inn to round out your sister’s list, then we’ll check out a few houses?”
Silence wasn’t what he expected to hear. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“It’s fine. I’ll meet you there at six. But we really need to get down to business. I need to find a house.”
“Of course.” He was about to say, it’s a date. But he didn’t, because he still wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, especially after that kiss. God, how had that happened? But he didn’t want to bother himself with those details. Just like he was advising Liz, he was following his heart not his brain.
After pouring wine and ordering dinner, he hoped the surprise he had in store for her later was a good idea. Her eyes weren’t as bright as usual. “Something’s wrong. Is this whole maid-of-honor duty getting you down?” He buttered a roll and handed it to her.
She took it but didn’t eat it. “We got in a pretty big fight. She told me she didn’t want me to be her maid-of-honor anymore.”
Instinct had him reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry. Want to talk about it?”
Her eyes were moist and she looked up at the ceiling. “Just help me find a house. It’s really important to me to have…something.”
He squeezed her hand tightly. “I promise, we’ll find a house you love.”
She closed her eyes and nodded.
He left go and poured her more wine. “My brother Frank and I once got in a fight that last for six months. But it all worked out eventually.”
Taking a long drink, she pressed her lips together and looked at him. “Let me guess. It was over a girl?”
His laughter caught him by surprise. “Jenny
Wilkins. Cute little blonde, two grades below me. I was crazy about her. Unfortunately, that’s how she felt about Frank.” He could still remember the pain in his gut when Frank brought her home. “I took a swing at him when he came back from their first date. He knew I liked her. Frank was younger, but he looked older than me. He was kind of the hot guy on campus, while I was still a dweeby nobody, even junior year.”
“I find that very hard to believe.”
He held up two fingers, like he was a boy scout again. “God’s honest truth. Thankfully, that all changed by senior year. Grew three inches that summer and gained twenty pounds.”
“How did you and your brother ever make up?” The sadness was fading from her eyes.
“I took the girl he liked to homecoming senior year. We haven’t had a harsh word since.”
She tore at the roll on her plate. “Your mother had her hands full.”
“She did. And you’re not alone in the sibling woe department or the heartbreak department.”
She rested her chin in her palm and looked so adorable he wanted to kiss her again. “A high school crush is a little different from what happened to me.”
His hands curled into fists. “I wish I had a few minutes alone with the guy who did this to you.
She shrugged. “If it wasn’t him, it would have been somebody else.”
He looked at her sad eyes and set down his glass. Wait one damn minute. Henry sat up straight. That’s it. He didn’t have to just get her to look differently at what she wanted in a house, but men, too. Show her a few good ones were still kicking around if he ever wanted a chance with her.
And where the hell did that idea come from? Holy Jekyll and Hyde, Batman, this was bad news. But there was no stopping him. He had to see where this thing between them might go. “I’ve got a very special place for you to see tonight. Are you interested?”
She stared at him, running her finger round the rim of her wine glass. “A showing late at night?” She sounded skeptical.
“The showings I set up for you are never, typical. You know that.”