Worse yet, Sadie would be justified in holding a grudge for a good long time.
“Knock, knock.” The kitchen’s screen door creaked open and out stepped the last person she wanted to see. “Attila the Matchmaker said you’d be out here. I’m supposed to tell you her eye said fishing would be good for your constitution.”
“Her eye knew this…how?”
“Don’t ask me. I’m just the messenger.”
Considering her companion’s admirable deadpan expression, Sarah managed a strangled laugh. The man was a saint for not having already run far away screaming.
Turning from the rail to face him, she said, “Sorry for vanishing on you like that. Your invitation was sweet. I just…” Not sure what else to say, she flopped her hands at her side, wishing the entire weekend was over.
“Funny,” he said, “how you’re apologizing when that’s what I came out here to do. At least that’s what I’d been planning on before delivering Helga’s message became my top priority.”
“Of course,” she said with a mix of solemnity and humor. “The eye cannot be ignored.”
“Absolutely. But listen.” He’d dropped the teasing tone and sounded earnest. “I understand you have a job to do. I didn’t mean to pressure you into playing hooky. This is an amazing place, but it didn’t get that way by you lounging about.”
“You seriously have nothing to apologize for,” she said. “But if you’ll accept my apology, I’ll accept yours.”
“Deal.” He extended his hand for her to shake. She did but instantly wished she hadn’t. His hand was much larger than hers. Rough. Rugged and manly—which didn’t make sense, seeing how his job wasn’t exactly the manual-labor type. He held her hand a second longer than was probably necessary. Not that she minded. Just that she’d noticed. In the same way she couldn’t help but notice every part of him, from his amazing eyes to his unruly dark hair to the hint of shadow on his jaw—even though when she’d seen him first thing that morning she’d been pretty sure he was clean shaven.
When he finally released her hand, she averted her gaze, not wanting him to catch even a glimpse of how much his touch had affected her. Clearing her throat and going back to deadheading a pot of bright orange marigolds, she asked, “What else do you do besides play around on your computer?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your hands,” she said, tossing a few bedraggled flowers over the porch rail and into the azalea bushes. “They’re pretty rough for a guy who just sits around making up monsters.”
“Oh…” He laughed. “Weekends, I rock climb. It sometimes gets dicey, but it takes the edge off.”
“Sounds fun. I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“It’s a great workout, but you have to stay focused. It’s not like jogging in a park. You can’t just zone out.”
“Sure.” She glanced up at him, noticing how the red polo shirt he wore over his khakis clung to his pumped shoulders. Her mouth mysteriously dry, she licked her lips. She suppressed an urge to curve her fingers over those meaty shoulders of his, testing for herself to see if they felt as good as they looked.
“I’d love to take you sometime. That is, if you ever get a weekend off from here.”
“I wish.” She wrinkled her nose. “But maybe. Who knows. We’ll have to see if we can work something out.”
“Great. Arkansas has some awesome state parks to rappel in.”
“That does sound fun.” Mmm…what could be better than a whole day spent watching him all hot and sweaty and…She didn’t mean to cast him such a huge grin, but something about him made her happy. She wasn’t sure how she’d spin the fact that she wasn’t who she’d claimed to be when they’d first met, but it looked as if she’d have plenty of time to work up a plausible story. Something close to the truth but not quite.
He thumbed toward the lake. “Guess I’d better let you get back to doing what you do best.”
“Sure.” Though I’d much rather go fishing with you.
“If I catch something, will you cook it for me?”
Yikes!
Did Sadie offer that kind of service? Knowing her sister, probably. But Sarah didn’t know the first thing about preparing a real live fish, as opposed to one that was all nice and headless, skinless and boneless from the supermarket.
“Absolutely,” she said with a smile, hoping and praying that if the situation reared its ugly head, Helga would be kind enough to share a few pointers. “But you have to clean it first. I’m pretty sure there’s a fish-cleaning station down by the boathouse.”
“Pretty sure?” He raised his eyebrows.
Oops. That stupid sexy grin of his had her flustered again. “Okay, I’m very sure. It’s just been a while since I’ve had enough leisure time to wile away an afternoon boating.”
“Uh-huh,” he teased. “Likely story. All right, then, I’ll head off to catch dinner, and you don’t forget your promise to cook it.”
“Sounds a little sexist, don’tcha think?”
“Not if you view it as a man trying to provide for his woman.” His blazing smile told her he was joking, but the fluttering in her belly told a whole other story.
AFTER TRADING BREAKFAST attire for fishing wear—Hale had told him he couldn’t wear sweats and a T-shirt to the dining room—Heath fished for a while, but the hot sun beating down on his lucky fishing cap made him feel like a human baked potato. Also, he suspected part of the reason he hadn’t had so much as a bite was that for the majority of the morning a pair of menacing swans had trailed the boat. Every time he’d cast, they’d hissed, barked and snorted. Thankfully they were currently just offshore, looking ready to peck Mrs. Helsing.
Considering his temporary swan reprieve, he should’ve cast again, but he was too hot.
Scooting from the bench seat to recline in the boat’s bottom, Heath felt somewhat better. At least the aluminum hull cooled his back, and the sound of water lapping against the sides was relaxing. Aside from a few ducks bickering on the lake and the gentle breeze shushing through pines, oaks and maples on the shoreline, all was quiet.
The foam container of night crawlers was starting to stink, but the water’s faint musky-fishy smell was quite pleasant.
All this went a long way toward keeping Heath’s mind off other smells. Such as Sadie’s one-of-a-kind all-woman perfume.
Work had been pretty hectic lately, and he should have been happy for a peaceful interlude. But all he really wanted to do was get back to the inn. More specifically, back to Sadie Connelly, to see what she was fixing for lunch.
But what then?
For all practical purposes, he was his brother. He wasn’t supposed to flirt with the innkeeper or really even have anything to do with her beyond casual conversation. So where did that leave him in his quest to get to know her better?
Pretty much right where he’d started when he’d broached the subject of a date sometime in the future. But even then, knowing she disliked liars every bit as much as he did, how was he supposed to explain that the guy she thought she’d met was a fraud?
“Hey!”
He glanced toward the boathouse to find Sadie waving.
Hands cupped to her mouth, she asked, “Still want company?”
Heck, yeah.
“Sure!” he hollered back. “Give me a sec to reel in my line!”
Five minutes later, he and his pair of swans had made it to the dock. “As cute as you look, I’d say you’re my best catch of the day.”
“Best, or only?” she teased, gingerly stepping into the boat holding a white wicker picnic basket. Wearing those denim cutoffs he’d first seen her in, a formfitting green T-shirt that matched her eyes and white sneakers, she looked every bit the fisherwoman and not the elegant innkeeper.
“Ha-ha. I’ll have you know I’ve had plenty of nibbles, but those killer swans of yours keep scaring the fish.”
“These sweet little things?” she asked, trailing her hand in the glassy water. When the nearest one hissed, sh
e laughed, yanking her hand back to her lap.
Rowing to the lake’s center, Heath asked, “What made you pick swans instead of a nice basset hound?”
“Swans are infinitely more elegant.” She leaned back on her elbows, tipping her face up to drink in the sun. Every luscious inch of her legs stretched out in front of him, and a sweet strip of bared belly peeked out from between her shorts and her shirt.
“Not to mention mean,” he said, trying to keep his mind on the conversation, instead of wanting to ease his hand along that tempting stomach of hers to see if it was even half as soft as it looked.
Eyes closed, she stuck out her tongue.
“So,” he teased, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your not-so-pleasant company?”
“Helga. She wouldn’t lay off the whole eye thing—meaning she must still be in matchmaking mode—and she ordered me out here. She said no guest should have to fish alone. She wanted to pack the lunch, but I told her I’d do it.”
“Nice. What’d you bring?”
“My favorites. But don’t tell anyone I prefer this stuff to the fancy fare I, uh, prepare.” She sat up, gently rocking the boat. From out of the basket she pulled bologna sandwiches on white bread, Chips Ahoy! cookies, Fritos and icy-cold Coca-Colas.
“Dang, girl, this is a regular junk-food feast. Well done.”
“Thanks.” She held out a sandwich. “Want one?”
“Sure.” After they’d both munched quietly for a few minutes, then opened their drinks and taken deep swigs, Heath wondered aloud, “I don’t get it.”
“What?”
“How you serve up five-star meals, run an inn worthy of American royalty and yet eat this common folks’ fare with glee.”
She popped a cookie into her mouth.
“Well? Explain this side of yourself to me. It’s intriguing. Almost like you’re two different women.”
He caught her wrist as she grabbed a handful of Fritos, before she’d gotten them into her mouth. “Sadie? You okay? The way you’re shoveling food in pretty soon there’s going to be three sides of you.”
“Ha-ha. What can I say? I’m hungry.” He freed her hand, and she tossed the chips to the swans. “As for there being two of me, I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like there are. You know, one side a reasonably competent business-woman, the other…” She glanced away and sniffled. Had there been tears glistening in her eyes? “I’m sorry.” She looked back, this time wearing a brilliant smile. “Thinking about how gullible I’ve been makes me crazy.”
Softening his voice, he asked, “Wanna tell me more?”
“I shouldn’t,” she said. “We hardly know each other, and—”
“Hey.” He took her hand, lightly brushing her palm with his thumb. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve found that it’s sometimes easier to share things with virtual strangers than with people you know and love. That way, there are no expectations. Fewer disappointments.”
She nodded and swallowed hard. “I caught Greg in dozens of little lies, but I always ignored them. All the time, my girlfriends were telling me to wake up. But it wasn’t until I caught him out clubbing with not one long-legged, stacked brunette but two that I realized the guy was a snake. Not long after that, one of our mutual friends and a fellow investor in a gated community Greg had been planning showed up here at the inn, asking a lot of questions I couldn’t answer.”
“Like what?” He angled on the seat to face her.
“Like how Greg was managing to sell land that was part of a national forest.”
“Huh?” Heath scratched his head. Wow, and he’d thought Tess was bad. “That’s insane.”
“My reaction, too,” Sarah said with a half laugh. “At first, I told our friend Tom that he was crazy. I loved Greg. We were supposed to have a Valentine’s Day wedding. My fiancé was a professional. He’d been in the construction and real-estate business for years. What I hadn’t known, is that the business he’d been in was pretty shady. He owned three acres adjoining a national forest, where he’d set up a swanky stone cottage as a sales office to establish just the right tone of rustic elegance. Then he’d marked out fifty lots—each of them sheer one-acre perfection—selling for a hundred grand a pop. Clients walked through, instead of driving, on winding dirt trails. It was a forest wonderland, complete with slanted sunbeams, birds and squirrels. Folks couldn’t get enough. That was in the area where I, um, used to live—near Branson, but flatter and not nearly as pretty, and this kind of real estate was tough to come by. Greg made a fortune. By the time buyers’ architects starting filing for building permits, it was too late. Greg was long gone. Starting a brand-new scheme in Denver.”
“Damn…” Heath shook his head.
“A lot of people were hurt financially—including me.” She squeezed his hand so hard that it hurt, but Heath gladly bore the pain. “I’d planned a life with this guy. I’d shown him off to everyone, from my friends and parents and sister to my pastor. I adored him, and yet all those times he’d professed to feel the same way toward me, he’d only been playing me. Setting me up for a massive fall.”
Sniffling, she asked, “Why, after all this time, does it still hurt? Why am I still weepy over a stupid, lying fool who doesn’t deserve another second of my emotional energy?”
“Seeing how I still have my own moments over Tess, I couldn’t tell you.” Heath drew her hand to his mouth, then pressed a kiss to her palm. If they hadn’t been on a boat in the middle of a lake, he’d have pulled her onto his lap, hugging her until her smile returned. “I’m so sorry that bastard hurt you. We hardly know each other and yet…I don’t know…maybe because we’ve both been burned, I feel this kinship with you that I can’t explain.”
“It’s the same with me,” she replied. “Crazy but somehow right.”
Lord, he wanted to kiss her, but as right as things felt between them, that still didn’t fix the hell there’d be to pay if his brother ever found out—not to mention what Sadie would do when she found out. What would she think of him, having poured out her heart and then finding out that he’d been lying, too?
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Being here. Listening.” Her smile lit up his world. “Showing me that not every guy’s a liar.” And then that world came crashing down.
“Yeah, well…” He cleared his throat. “How about we put all this depressing stuff behind us and catch some dinner?”
“Sounds great, only one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know how to fish.”
“EEUW!” SARAH SHRIEKED thirty minutes later, impaling a squirming night crawler with her hook. “If you were a true gentleman, you’d have done this for me.”
“If you’re going to be a true fisherwoman, you have to learn to bait your own hook.”
“When did I say I want to be a fisherwoman? All I really wanted was to have a picnic, thereby giving me an excuse to chow down on plenty of junk food.”
“Which we just did while you presented me with a hundred reasons why you don’t want to fish.”
“Yeah, but…” She squeezed her eyes shut while completing the unpleasant task of hooking a worm. “You have yet to give me a compelling reason as to why I would want to catch my own dinner.”
“Watch and learn,” he said, taking her rod, then casting the bait, sinker and bobber in a wide arc that bypassed the swans and landed in a shady cove a good hundred feet away.
She whistled. “Impressive.”
“Thanks.” Only she wasn’t so much talking about his cast but about the play of his muscular shoulders and back while he’d been in the act of casting. Lord, he was beautiful. Way better than any stinky old fish.
“Now what?” she asked when he gave her back the pole.
“We wait.”
He baited his own pole, casting the line in the opposite direction.
“Hmm…” she muttered after they’d scorched in hot spring sun for what felt like an eternity
. “This is fun.”
“Just wait till you get your first nibble. I promise, from then on you’ll be hooked.”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure my flesh is boiling.”
Rolling his eyes, he removed a long-billed khaki fishing cap from his head, settling it on her hair. “There, now that cute mug of yours is in the shade.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You think I’m cute, huh?”
“If I didn’t, I’d never have invited you aboard.”
The grin he shot her way stole what little remained of her breath. Dang, the man was good.
An eternity later, which she’d spent staring at Shane’s back, finding it fascinating the way sweat dampened the valley between his shoulder blades, she had a new appreciation for the sport. But as enjoyable as it was to study the boat’s captain, she couldn’t help but think their morning on the water would be extra enjoyable if they were both to strip down to their skivvies and jump in.
“Look,” he said, pointing to the spot where her bobber should be. “You’ve got something.”
She had something, all right. A great idea of a much better way to pass the time!
“Well? Jerk up on the tip to set the hook and then reel it in.”
Sarah did as Heath had told her to, but whatever was on the other end of the line was so heavy that it nearly ripped the pole from her hands.
“Whoa. What’d you do? Catch Jaws?” He shifted, straddling the boat’s center bench, then motioned for her to sit in front of him. “Come here.”
She did, gingerly stepping from the back of the three-seat aluminum boat to the center. Once she’d straddled the seat, too, being careful to hold tight to the rod, he put his arms around her, letting her reel but providing support should she need it. “What do you think it is?”
“I dunno. Some of these lakes have huge catfish. Could even be a particularly feisty bass.”
Her pole was nearly bent in half. Sweat beaded her upper lip from the exertion of reeling in her line in the hot sun. Or was it being wedged against Shane that had her all hot and bothered?
The Right Twin (Times Two Book 2) Page 6
