by Shirley Jump
“Holy cow. You look...” He turned to the small bookcase in the hall and feigned grabbing a book. “Wait, let me get the thesaurus, because amazing isn’t a good enough word for how you look.”
She laughed and stopped on the last step. A faint blush filled her cheeks. He liked that blush. And loved that he was the one who caused it.
“This is probably too much for dinner and tree shopping,” she said, “but my wardrobe consists mainly of the things I’ve brought back from my apartment over the past few days, and the things I brought with me for the weekend with Sammie—so basically, court suits, jeans and this one dress in case Sammie and I went out.”
“It’s perfect.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, drawing in a whisper of her fragrance, a bit of her warmth. He wanted to draw her close, to touch all the enticing parts bared by the dress. Later, he hoped, there would be time for that. “Give me five minutes and let me see if I can find something that does that dress justice.”
A tease quirked her lips. “Should I time you?”
He slipped off his watch and pressed it into her hands. “If I don’t make it in time, then how about... I owe you another night on the town?”
She parked a fist on her hip. “And how is that a prize for me?”
“Hopefully, you’ll see tonight.” He gave her a quick kiss, then took the stairs two at a time, peeling off his shirt as he headed for the shower, and getting ready in record time. He opted for a pale blue button-down shirt and a dark patterned tie under the suit he’d worn for Ida Mae’s funeral. Like Vivian, he hadn’t packed much beyond the essentials. At the inn, he didn’t have to get any fancier than jeans and a polo shirt. The few extra pieces he’d needed in the last month, he’d bought locally. At some point he had to go back to his apartment and clean it out, he supposed. The thought didn’t depress him anymore and in fact, he was looking forward to finding a little house of his own here in town. Except to have the money to do that, he had to fulfill Ida Mae’s request. That thought did depress him. Maybe he should just put the damned box in the mail and be done with it. Until then, there was tonight. And Vivian. And that sexy black dress.
He charged down the stairs and feigned panting, his hands on his knees. “Whew! That was tough. Did I make it?”
“Five minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” She gave him back his watch. “I think you did that on purpose.”
“I may have.” He grinned, then put out his arm. “Your dinner awaits, milady.” He took her out to the pickup, held the door and helped her up into the seat. She’d put a long coat over the dress, and the suede slid across his leather seat with a slight whoosh. “Sorry we aren’t riding in something fancier, but the truck is the most practical for Christmas tree shopping.”
“I’m not a fancy kind of girl, Nick,” she said. “I like a simple life. I really do.”
He was counting on that tonight, and had wagered his idea for a date would be perfect for the Vivian he knew. Not harsh, commanding courtroom Vivian, but the barefoot in the dark Vivian he liked very, very much. He put the truck in gear, swung out of the driveway, then took a left on Lakeshore Road.
“We aren’t going into town?”
“Later, when we get the tree. But for now, I wanted to take you somewhere special.” The road curved around the perimeter of the lake, winding down past the Sea Shanty, which was lit but sparsely populated on this early winter night, and then came to an end at a park that had seen better days. The town still decorated it for the holidays, though, and dozens of white lights greeted them as Nick pulled into the parking lot and shut the truck off. The engine ticked as it cooled, the only sound in the quiet night.
Vivian drew in a breath. “Wow. This looks so beautiful.”
There were lights all over, but a particularly large concentration had been woven along the posts and between the rafters of a white-and-dark-green gazebo, as if God had dropped a constellation in the middle of the park. The reflection of the decorations twinkled on the dark lake, undisturbed save for the occasional splash of a rushing fish. Swags of evergreens looped around the railings, caught with giant red bows at each pillar.
Nick got out of the truck, came around, opened the passenger door, and extended a hand for Vivian. “You can leave your coat in the truck.”
“It’s cold out, though.”
“Trust me, Vivian.”
She shrugged out of the long garment and set it on the seat. “I rarely trust anyone.”
“I know. Come see for yourself.” As she stepped down, he grabbed the basket he’d packed earlier. She gave him an inquisitive glance, but didn’t say anything as he led her up the crushed shell walkway, one arm around her, supposedly to block the faint breeze off the lake, but considering it was warm, he knew, as she probably did too, that he was using the kiss of wind as an excuse to touch her. Three steps up to the gazebo’s entrance, and Vivian paused.
“Oh, Nick.” She turned to him, a hand to her lips, her eyes shimmering. “That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done.”
His heart jumped and he had the craziest urge to cry. The joy and surprise in her face could have knocked him over. He cleared his throat. “Now don’t go getting all emotional on me. It’s just some blankets and a ceramic heater.” He led her to the cushions he’d borrowed from the inn’s outdoor furniture, then fished a lighter and a big candle out of the basket and lit it.
“How did you...where did you...?”
“I borrowed the heater from Jack Barlow when I got this crazy idea this afternoon. Ran up here and set all this up on my way home from the inn. It wasn’t much. Really.” Because the way she was looking at him made Nick feel like he could have done so much more to earn the tears brimming in her eyes.
Vivian shook her head. “No, it’s perfect. It’s truly perfect. And warm, like you said.”
He uncorked a bottle of white wine he’d kept chilled in the basket, then poured them each a glass. “I’m glad you like it. We could have gone to a restaurant, but I thought we both could use a night...”
“Alone.”
He shrugged, because that one word held connotations Nick wasn’t sure either of them was ready to address. Instead, he sat down on the opposite cushion and began unloading the basket. “Chicken marsala, with whipped Parmesan potatoes and Italian peas with roasted pearl onions. And...homemade Parker House rolls.”
“You know my weaknesses well, Mr. Jackson.”
“I hope that one of them is me.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and allowed his hand to linger on her jaw. “And that is, without a doubt, the corniest thing I’ve ever said.”
“I didn’t think it was corny.” Deep blue pools met his gaze, as dark and mysterious as the depths of Stone Gap Lake. “Not at all.”
She leaned forward, and the shifting of her weight on the cushion made her slide into him. He didn’t complain. Nick slipped an arm around Vivian and lifted her onto his lap. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “What are we doing?”
“Enjoying our appetizer.” He nibbled at her neck, then down the curve of her dress to the swell of her breasts. She arched into him, her hands tangling in his hair. Their breath was short, their hearts racing, and everything within him wanted to lay her down on those cushions and make love to her until the sun came up. Instead, Nick drew back and pressed his forehead to hers. “If we keep that up, we’ll never have dinner.”
“Or dessert.”
“So, do we eat first? Then make out?”
She laughed and slid off his lap, then settled on the cushion, in prim and proper form. “Yes. I do think that’s wise.”
He did, too, but not because he was hungry. Because he knew that he wasn’t just falling for this town, and thinking about something more permanent here. He was falling for Vivian, too. The vulnerability she struggled so hard to contain, the strength and smarts that had gotten her from foster homes to multimilli
on-dollar lawsuits. The fierce love and loyalty she felt for her family, her sister.
And the way she kissed him. For the first time in a long time, Nick realized what it was like to be with someone who had no other someones in mind. Whose sole attention was on him, with a warmth and connection that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing until he had it.
If he was going to make this work, then he had to do it right, and that meant not rushing headlong into a relationship. That was the kind of thing that would make Vivian bolt. And besides, there were questions he had to answer for himself, too. Like how much he was willing to compromise when it came to her work situation.
He put his phone on some soft jazz background music, dished up the food and for a while they exchanged small talk about Ellie, the inn, the town, the weather. The words flowed between them on a companionable river, light and easy as leaves skimming the surface.
“So, what’s your plan for this Christmas tree we are buying later?” she asked.
“I don’t have a plan. It can be whatever we want. I’m not one of those ‘everything must match and look like it came out of Architectural Digest’ kind of people. I’m pretty much a go-with-my-gut guy. Which works well in cooking, not so well in designing security code for computers.”
She laughed. “I can see that. That’s a job where everything has to follow precise directions, I’m sure. As for me, I’ve had everything mapped out for my life for so long, I’m not sure I have the ability to go with my gut.”
He mixed some chicken with the potatoes and swallowed the morsel. “Isn’t that exactly what you have to do when you’re raising a kid who can’t speak yet?”
“I’d say I’m just following your lead and hoping I don’t screw up.” She took a sip of wine, then set the glass on the wooden floor of the gazebo. The twinkling lights woven into the rafters bounced off the goblet. “Although today went much better than I expected. It helped that Mavis and Della were in the office every five minutes to hold Ellie.”
“You’re better with Ellie than you think,” Nick said. “When you loosen up the bun and the rules, you’re calm and that’s contagious to everyone around you.”
“Loosen up the bun?” She laughed a little, then sat back on her elbows. “What does that mean?”
“Well, there are two Vivians. Courtroom Vivian, with the bun and the suits, and late at night home Vivian, when you quit working and take a breath. The Vivian with the bright red nail polish and the smile that lights up a room.” He toyed with a lock of her hair. The easy updo she had tonight meant a few tendrils framed her face, dusted her neck. “That’s the beautiful Vivian I can’t resist.”
“You can’t?” she asked, the words breathless and hushed.
“Not from the minute you came storming into the inn.”
“And you threatened to call the police on me.”
“Well, I thought you were a babynapper.”
“Do I look like a babynapper?”
He pretended to study her, tilting his head left, right, tapping a finger on his chin, until she laughed. “Nope. You look like a woman I would enjoy spending time with.”
“Well, when you find that woman, you might want to spend some time with her.”
That earned a laugh out of Nick. “Touché. I think I’ve met my match. You are pretty damned smart, Vivian.” He shifted closer to her. The scent of her perfume warmed the space between them. “In case you’re keeping track, that’s two compliments in the space of five minutes.”
That flush filled her cheeks again. “I noticed.”
“I must say, I’m feeling quite unappreciated.” He feigned outrage and put a hand on his chest. “Every night this week, you have come home to dinner made, kid bathed and ready for bed, and a bevy of compliments—”
“I’d hardly call two a bevy.”
“And what do I receive for my efforts? An ‘I noticed.’ Humph.”
She laughed. “You do know that you sound like a nagging wife, right now, don’t you?”
“Considering I’ve never had a wife, I wouldn’t know.”
“Why not?” She put a little distance between them and took another bite of dinner. “Why haven’t you been married?”
“I could ask you the same thing. You’re a beautiful woman, and I can’t imagine why you’re still single.”
“Will you quit calling me beautiful?” She ducked her head, and he swore he saw another blush on her face. “Besides, I asked you first.”
He paused a moment, thinking about his answer. He’d never really given the subject much thought. Even the decision to propose to Ariel had been a more of a this-is-the-logical-next-step thing “I avoided anything that had the potential to become a long-term relationship most of my life. My parents had such an awful marriage, and I didn’t want to end up like them. From what I heard, my grandparents had a perfect marriage, but after my grandpa died when my dad was a teenager, people said Ida Mae was never quite the same again.” Grandma Ida Mae had kept her late Henry’s portrait on the mantel, and hanging in the hallway. She’d stop and talk to it sometimes, her undying love clear in her voice. Even as a kid, Nick had understood that pain, that deep, abiding emotion, and the fragility of it all. “I guess I didn’t want to take a chance on having something that good and losing it.”
“I understand that.” She sighed and took another sip of wine, then waved off his offer of a refill. “I’ve spent my entire life not counting on good things. Every time my life seemed to be on track, I’d end up yanked out of that house and sent to another, or I’d be moved to another school or Sammie would get in trouble and I’d have to go run and help her.”
“And you learned not to rely on anyone but yourself?”
“Exactly.”
“Sounds like we’re two peas in a pod,” he said. He set down his half-empty wineglass. “And maybe I should do the same, considering the first woman I thought about marrying ran off with my supposed best friend.”
“But you seem to fit into the two-point-five kids, dog in the yard life and all of this—” she waved a hand around the gazebo, past the lake, toward the town and the life that existed just around that bend “—so easily. You created a home in a vacant house in a few days, Nick. I haven’t been able to do that in thirty years.”
“All I did was build on the home my grandmother had. She was the one who did all these things—set up the Christmas tree, baked the cookies, read us stories at bedtime. My parents hired nannies and chauffeurs and paid people to raise us, essentially.” He had, indeed, re-created his memories in the way he’d decorated the house for Christmas. The stuffed Santa was in the same place on the sofa, the candles and evergreen bows displayed as they always had been. Grady, he knew, wouldn’t have cared if Nick redecorated the whole house. Grady clearly had no intentions of living there, and no intentions of returning to Stone Gap. Grady would keep up the maintenance of Ida Mae’s house, but otherwise ignore his inheritance. Nick wanted to have one last holiday there, even if the rooms echoed a little too much now.
“So you spent your childhood with strangers, too, in a way,” Vivian said.
Strangers. That was a good word for the paid help who’d raised him, and for his parents, especially his father. They’d never seen eye to eye, never had a single thing in common. Why Ida Mae had tasked Nick with reconnecting with Richard, Nick had no idea. Of the three Jackson boys, he was the least likely candidate. Even though none of them had become lawyers, at least his older brothers were both successful, driven, hard-chargers like their father. Nick was far more content with his low-stress, low-ambition chef’s life in Stone Gap. The direct opposite of his father. Maybe that was part of Ida Mae’s thinking. “Guess that whole living with strangers thing might be another part of the reason neither one of us have settled down.”
She scoffed. “Boy, we’d make some therapist rich if we ever decided to unpack our emotional baggage.”
>
“That’s very true. Here’s to us.” He raised his wineglass, and she did the same. A merry clink sounded in the quiet night. “Now all that aside, we have yet to settle our debate.”
“What debate is that?” She took another bite, and he could tell by the smile on her face that the dinner was a hit. He’d made hundreds of dinners, but never had he been so committed to making a diner happy as he had with Vivian.
“Whether or not you appreciate me, especially after my bevy of compliments.” Nick grinned.
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Okay, you want a compliment?”
“Why yes, I do.”
Vivian glanced around the space. Her gaze skipped over the thick blankets, the ceramic heater, the basket and the spread of food, now almost entirely gone. “You...cook very well.”
“Well now there, Ms. Winthrop, be careful because you’re getting awful personal.”
She pursed her lips but her eyes danced with merriment, and Nick decided this was his favorite Vivian, the one who laughed and teased. “Okay, so you’re also...pretty good-looking.”
“Be still, my heart.” He put a hand on his chest. “I may have to put that in my next online dating profile. Should bring the ladies running. Cooks well and is pretty good-looking.”
“And you know it. So there, that’s the end of my compliments.” She raised her chin and met his gaze.
“Too bad. Because now I’ll never know...” He raised up on his knees and leaned toward her.
She watched him, her eyes wide. A breath passed between them. The lights sparkled on her face, danced golden dust on her eyelashes. “Never know what?”
“If you want me to kiss you again.”
A loon called across the lake in the distance. A soft splash spoke of a fish being chased. Clouds drifted past the moon, casting a hazy veil over the world.
“Well, I...well...” She swallowed, then let out a breath, and one whispered word. “Yes.”
Instead of kissing her right away, Nick got to his feet, put out his hands, then drew Vivian up and into his arms. The radio shifted to a slow song, as if the DJ was in on some kind of a conspiracy to bring them together. Nick put one hand on Vivian’s waist, took her opposite hand with his, then began to waltz her away from the blankets and the heater and into the center of the gazebo. She kicked off her heels, and danced barefoot on the painted wood.