When no one spoke up, Missy pushed open the door and led everyone inside.
They both remained quiet as they walked through the various rooms. But when they left the building and started for the second cemetery on the tour, Angie held back so the rest of the group could get ahead of them. She wanted to be able to have a conversation and not interfere with anything Missy was sharing.
“You seem into architecture the same way my sister is into history.” No one toured old homes to see the architecture unless they had a significant interest in it.
“For a long time, I planned to study it in college.” He released her hand and put his arm across her shoulders, bringing her closer as they followed the group down the street.
Excitement and longing surged through her, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. “Why didn’t you?”
“My dad was never a big supporter of the idea. He thought I should study something with greater employment opportunities. He constantly told me to keep an open mind about other options. Then my sophomore year of high school, an agent from the FBI came to career day. After listening to her talk, I started to reconsider my plan. I did some research into what the Bureau looks for in applicants. Degrees in architecture were not among the top ones they looked for. Degrees in computers and engineering were, so I got an undergraduate degree in computer science and then a master’s in computer science with a concentration in cybersecurity. Not long after I earned my master’s, I applied to the Bureau.”
The rest of the group stopped in front of a house, signaling to Angie to put a temporary halt to their private conversation.
“Behind me is the Jonathan Corwin House. Sometimes people refer to it as The Witch House.” Missy gestured over her shoulder at the gray home. “Judge Corwin was a local magistrate and civic leader during the time of the Salem witch trials. He investigated the various claims brought against citizens, and he served on the Court of Oyer and Terminer, which sent nineteen citizens to the gallows for witchcraft.”
Countless stops and more than an hour later, they were seated in her car and headed back to Dakota’s house. Although she hadn’t seen anything otherworldly—no one had—it had been a unique way to see the city and learn more about its long history.
“I really enjoyed that. You?”
Dakota took her hand and held it against his thigh. “Actually yeah, I did. It made the history of the area seem more real. I’m glad we went.”
The thigh beneath her hand was solid, and she expected it to be as muscular and well sculpted as his arms. The jeans he wore prevented her from finding out for sure. Eventually, she’d hopefully find out what his jeans, as well as the rest of his clothes, were hiding. It just wouldn’t be tonight. The media might portray her as being fast and loose, jumping into a guy’s bed after spending only a few hours with him.
It was wrong.
She had both male and female friends who acted that way, but she’d never done it. She didn’t have to date a guy for months and months before she slept with him, but she needed more than two evenings out. So although images of them together had teased her several times since she walked into his house, she wouldn’t be acting any of them out. At least tonight. Depending on how things progressed this week, next weekend was a definite possibility.
Chapter Eight
She spent two days researching SUVs as well as other cars. Once she’d settled on the two vehicles she wanted, a Range Rover for the cold snowy months and a new Mercedes convertible for the nice weather, she asked Dakota if he wanted to come shopping with her—for two reasons. First, shopping was always more fun with a partner, and second, although she’d talked to him, Angie hadn’t seen him since Saturday night. He’d agreed with no hesitation; however, tonight had been the first night he could guarantee he’d get out of work on time. They’d finished up the shopping part of their evening over a half an hour ago and were now back at his house.
“I’ve never seen a salesman bend over backward like the one at the dealership tonight. If you’d asked him, I think he would’ve let you drive the car off the lot tonight without a single penny down. I’m anxious to see if the ones at Gies Auto Mall will be as bad.” Dakota set a large bowl of chips down next to the salsa and guacamole already on the coffee table.
Angie didn’t tell him such behavior wasn’t unusual, whether she was shopping for jewelry or simply making a reservation at one of her favorite restaurants in New York City. Instead, she kicked off her flip-flops and folded her legs up on the sofa.
“I’m just glad they’re going to take care of getting it registered for me. I really didn’t want to make another trip to the DMV. Going there to get my new driver’s license was enough.”
Now that she’d decided on what she wanted, she wanted to get both vehicles purchased and registered so she could cross one more thing off her mental to-do list. Unfortunately, time had been a limiting factor tonight, and they’d only made it to the Mercedes dealer.
Dakota switched on the flat-screen television mounted on the wall but didn’t sit down. “Do you want anything else before the game starts?”
When they spoke on Monday, he invited her over to watch the baseball game tonight with him even before she asked him to come along for a little car shopping. She didn’t know much about baseball, but she’d accepted anyway.
“All set. Thanks.” She had a handsome guy about to sit down next to her, snacks on the table, and a bottle of locally made cola that, according to the label, contained real cane sugar rather than corn syrup, although how it would affect the actual taste, she had no idea.
He didn’t waste any time getting comfortable next to her and taking a swig from his bottle of cola.
“Where are they playing tonight?” Other than the names of a few teams and the fact that all the teams wanted to win the World Series at the end of the season, she knew next to nothing about the sport.
“They’re in Seattle.”
If Boston was playing on the West Coast, it explained why the start time of tonight’s game was on the later side. “They’re called the Nationals. Right?” She’d dated a guy who was a Washington Nationals fan.
Dakota looked at her as if a unicorn horn had just sprouted from her head. “Uh, no. The Nationals are from DC, and unless it’s during interleague play or the World Series, Boston doesn’t face them. The Nationals are in the National League, while Boston is in the American League. The Mariners are from Seattle. You’re not into baseball, are you?”
Gee, what gave me away? “It’s not that I’m not into it so much as I don’t think I’ve ever seen an actual game.”
Now his expression suggested a second unicorn horn had poked its way through her skull. “Never? Not even when you were a kid?”
If she had, she couldn’t recall one. “I’ve seen them in movies and stuff, but Dad’s not a baseball fan. He’s a huge New England Rebels fan. Watches all their football games on television, and whenever they play on the West Coast, he goes. He’s pretty big into hockey too. He played on hockey teams until he graduated from college. And the only sport Mom is into is golf. But she prefers to go golfing, not watch other people play. Not that I blame her.” One of her former boyfriends had enjoyed watching golf and had done so every chance he got. Whenever he turned it on, she fell asleep.
A commercial came on the screen, and he muted the volume. “And what about you? Are there any sports you enjoy?”
“Shopping.” She snagged a plate and added some chips and salsa to it.
“I’m not sure shopping qualifies as a sport.” He followed her lead and added a handful of chips to a plate, then plopped a generous spoonful of guacamole and salsa next to them.
“Trust me, the way Avery and I do it, it does.” She lifted a chip covered with salsa toward her mouth. “I enjoy watching the Rebels play, but I’ve never been the type of person who has to watch football every Sunday. And I enjoy swimming a lot.”
Angie bit into the chip and chewed. When he’d brought the snacks in, he mentioned
he’d made the salsa yesterday. Even if he hadn’t told her, the taste alone would’ve given away the fact that the stuff in the bowl wasn’t from a jar. She dragged another chip through the salsa and popped it in her mouth.
“No sports in high school?” He dipped a chip in first the guacamole and then the salsa.
“Nope. I tried out for the volleyball team my sophomore year but didn’t make it. But I was big into school clubs. I was in the drama club all four years of high school, and I worked on the school newspaper one year. In my junior year, I helped form the literary club. Avery is the athletic one. She played a sport during every season.” Reaching for her cola, she took a sip. Although the taste resembled the colas produced by the big name companies, this one had a slightly different flavor to it. One she preferred.
“What about Mia? Was she into clubs like you or into sports in school?”
“Neither. After she landed her first role on the series Family Life, she never went to school again until college. She always had private tutors, either on the set or at the house. Sometimes I envied her, other times not so much. It’s hard to ignore the teacher and daydream when you’re working with them one-on-one.” They didn’t discuss it much, but she knew Mia often regretted not attending school the same way most people did. “Did you play a lot of sports?”
He swallowed the food in his mouth and then licked the salsa off his finger. “I kept busy. Mom wouldn’t let me play tackle football. She said it was too dangerous, so I played flag football until I was eleven. In middle school, I started running cross-country in the fall, played basketball in the winter, and baseball in the spring. After I graduated high school, I stopped except for the occasional pickup basketball game.”
On the television, the commercial for extra-soft toilet paper ended and the sports announcers for the evening’s game appeared on the screen. Picking up the remote, Dakota unmuted the sound but kept the volume low. “Anything you want to know about the game before it starts?”
If he had to take the time to give her a lesson on the rules of baseball, it’d be difficult for him to watch. “Nah, I’m sure I’ll figure it out as it goes along.” After all, how hard could it be? A person hit the ball and ran some bases.
He increased the volume by a few numbers and placed the remote on the coffee table. “If you have any questions, let me know.”
***
“Do the coaches always argue with the refs like that?”
Should he correct Angie and tell her in baseball they were called umpires, not referees, or let it go? “No, not in every game, but it’s not unusual for a coach to disagree with a call made by an umpire and then get into an argument. If the coach goes too far, an umpire can eject him from the game. He can eject players too.”
“Then I’m surprised the coach for Boston didn’t get thrown out. He was right up in the umpire’s face.”
Dakota switched off the television and dropped the remote back on the table. Boston had won, and he didn’t need to hear the postgame report.
Angling her body in his direction, she tucked one leg up on the sofa. “Why do they call them referees in football, basketball, and soccer but umpires in baseball?”
He’d never wondered about it; it simply was the way it was. “No idea. Maybe someone thought it sounded better?” Whether they were called referees or umpires, they performed a similar function. “Overall, what did you think of the game?”
To him, it was unfathomable that she’d gone her entire life and never seen a single baseball game. It wasn’t like they were talking about Olympic figure skating or something. Baseball was often called America’s pastime. A person could probably find a game being shown on either television or streaming on the internet every day of the week once the season started. Some sports channels even played classic baseball games from the 80s and 90s during the off-season.
“Honestly, I think I enjoy watching football a little more. It’s faster paced, but I enjoyed the game tonight.”
His mom always compared watching a baseball game to watching paint dry and had preferred watching basketball and football. Still, she’d made it to as many of his baseball games as she could.
“I wouldn’t mind watching Boston play again.”
Since his move to New England, he’d become a die-hard Boston fan, much to the annoyance of his dad, a lifelong New York fan even though he’d never lived in New York or even close to it. Dakota tried to get to a few games every season. This year, he’d only made it to one so far.
“A friend of mine at work has season tickets. Unless they’re playing either New York or Tampa Bay, he’s always willing to sell a couple. I can talk to him tomorrow and see about getting us some tickets.” He could go on the internet and buy tickets for an upcoming game, but he’d never get seats as good as the ones Jimmy had.
“Sounds good.”
His eyes followed her every movement as she unfolded her legs and stretched them out. Like the night of the ghost tour, she had on shorts, but unlike the ones she’d worn then, these were much shorter. So short in fact, the edges of the pockets peeped out from below the edge of the denim. When his gaze hit her light purple toenails, he reversed the path and let his eyes trail back up.
Damn, she’s got legs. Dakota pictured them entwined with his as they rested after making love. Would they feel as soft as the skin on her hands? They sure as hell looked incredibly smooth.
When she slipped on her flip-flops and stood, the mental picture disappeared and his brain returned to reality.
“I’m going to head out. I know you have work in the morning.” She picked up the empty chip bowl and placed the smaller bowls that had held salsa and guacamole inside of it.
Even worse, he had a meeting at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. On a good day with no traffic, he could make the drive from North Salem to Boston in about forty minutes. During the week in the morning, there was always traffic. Some days, especially when it rained or snowed, it took him two hours to reach the office. If he wanted to make sure he arrived at his meeting on time, he’d have to leave the house a little after six. With such an early morning ahead of him, it was best if Angie left now.
What was best and what he wanted were not the same thing tonight.
Dakota collected the empty soda bottles and then took the large bowl from her hands before she made it through the doorway. Angie was a guest in his house. He didn’t want her cleaning up for him.
“If I’m running late tomorrow, I’ll call and let you know.” Since they hadn’t made it to both car dealers tonight, they were going to Gies Auto Mall tomorrow night. After depositing everything on the kitchen table, he placed a hand on either side of her waist and pulled her a little closer. “And Boston is playing Seattle again if you want to come back here and watch the game.”
He’d left some space between them because his blood was still on fire from the image of her naked legs entwined with his. If his body actually came in contact with hers right now, it might spontaneously combust.
Angie had other ideas and closed the gap between them as her arms snaked over his shoulders. “Sounds good.” She lowered her mouth to his.
Her lips were warm and sweet on his, and the tantalizing vision of them naked in his bed reappeared. Moving his hands lower, he slipped them into her back pockets, his palms molding to her ass as if it were created just for his hands.
Exactly how long they stood there, he’d never know, but eventually she pulled back. “I better go.”
His first instinct was to tell her she didn’t need to go anywhere. But he didn’t. He had an early morning, and it was clear she wasn’t ready to take this thing between them to the next level. “I’ll walk you outside.”
North Salem was a safe town and his yard had enough lights, but walking Angie to her car was the proper thing to do. The type of thing he’d want a guy to do for his sister. Of course, walking with her also meant another minute or two with Angie and perhaps another quick goodnight kiss.
The lights on either s
ide of the front door illuminated the steps and front walkway, while the spotlight attached to the garage lit up the driveway. Unlocking the car door, Angie opened it but didn’t get inside.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight. See you tomorrow.” She dropped a kiss on his lips but didn’t linger.
He waited until she backed out of the driveway before returning to the house. Last week when he’d walked into Peggy Sue’s because the power was out, he’d expected the visit to the café to lead to nothing but a hot beverage and some food. How wrong he’d been. Where things between them would eventually go was anyone’s guess, but he planned to enjoy himself while he found out.
***
From his parking spot at the curb, Shane kept a watchful eye on the house. Until Monday he hadn’t known where Angie’s home was. Mrs. Mitchell solved the problem for him though. He’d stopped at the old widow’s home to deliver a package. He probably dropped one off at her house at least twice a week. He didn’t know what she bought, but she clearly enjoyed shopping online. As often happened, she’d started up a conversation, first telling him how much she was looking forward to her granddaughter coming to live with her. From there she’d gone into how she couldn’t believe both Angelina Troy and Brett Sherbrooke, President Warren Sherbrooke’s nephew, had moved into town within days of each other. Although he’d heard about both additions, he’d played dumb and asked if she knew where in North Salem they lived. As he’d expected, because this was Mrs. Mitchell and nothing happened in town that she’d didn’t know about, she’d known the exact locations of the homes they’d purchased—not that he cared where the hell Brett Sherbrooke lived.
When Love Strikes (Love On The North Shore Book 6) Page 9