Chapter 3
"What are you waiting for, dear?"
Before Bryn could answer, Liza continued speaking, her voice as urgent over the telephone as it was in person.
With the receiver tucked snugly between her shoulder and ear, Bryn packed the last box lunch into the carton, then sank into Rick’s old pine captain’s chair next to the wall phone. There was something oddly comforting about the worn armrests and the firm curve supporting her back. She’d assured herself that Rick’s use of it the other day had nothing to do with why she’d chosen to drag this particular chair into Chez Madison’s kitchen. Entwining the coiled phone cord through her fingers, she smoothed a tight fist along the hem of her running shorts when thoughts of Rick and that almost kiss slipped unbidden into her thoughts.
"Bryn dear, are you there?"
"Yes. Sorry. What were you—" she began, then broke off when she heard Liza’s strangled sigh.
"We don’t have a lot of time to waste, you know. Jacaranda Key is planning a water festival for next month. Islamorada and Conch Key have already started advertising for their fishing tournaments. We must lock in a date for our fund-raising activity. I’ll contact your volunteers and tell them to be at the restaurant tonight."
Bryn had given a wide berth to Liza’s zealous style, but tonight simply wasn’t a good night to have the meeting. Furniture samples were being delivered to Chez Madison today. Before they arrived, she had her grandfather to visit and at least four calls to make concerning her design business. Once Jiggy picked up the box lunches and her morning jog was out of the way, she was going to be busy well into the night. "Liza, it’s a mess over here."
"No one’s going to care. All your committee people require are a few snacks and a place to eat them. By the way, Captain Parrish loves key lime pie, so keep that in mind when you’re preparing the food. And since you’re right next to his marina, I’ll let you tell Captain Parrish to be there at eight-thirty. I’ll take care of notifying the rest of the committee, and I’ll drop off the folders to you later today too."
While Liza chattered on, Bryn looked across the kitchen where Rick’s blazer was hanging. The navy blue linen blend was beginning to look as if it belonged in the kitchen. Even though she knew the act was a silly tactile indulgence, she caught herself touching the buttons and patting the pockets several times a day. If you’d, kissed me, Rick Parrish, I wouldn’t still be wondering, waiting, wanting…. If he’d kissed her, maybe she wouldn’t have this overwhelming desire to keep touching his jacket. All the errant, erotic thoughts she’d been having would most likely disappear with a real flesh-on-flesh experience. She felt her mouth squinching into a self-deprecating frown. How could she have spent the last few days letting her imagination build an almost kiss into the erotic event of her life? He was probably a lousy kisser anyway. She rubbed her thumbnail back and forth across her lips. Probably a brusque kisser, hard and tight-lipped and unsatisfying. Staring at his jacket, she started to think how she could remedy the problem when Liza’s voice startled her.
"Bryn, are you still there?"
"Yes," she said, getting to her feet and turning away from the jacket. Fool, she thought to herself, let Rick Parrish remedy his own kissing problems. If he has any. "I’m still here."
"Bryn?" Liza’s voice was strangely soft.
"What is it?"
"Contacting Captain Parrish about the meeting isn’t bothering you, is it?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I have an instinct for these things." Before Bryn could ask what "these things" were, Liza continued. "Maybe I’m out of bounds on this, but I think you ought to know how Captain Parrish’s marriage ended."
"Liza, wait." A sudden and overwhelming impulse told her not to listen. Staring at her white-knuckled hands squeezing the phone, she willed herself to relax her grip. "I-I think Rick should be the one to tell me about his past." She rolled her eyes. Why, oh, why had she responded that way? When was Rick Parrish ever going to be close enough to her to tell her anything about himself, especially about a divorce? "I mean, I like to stay clear of anything resembling gossip." Great! Now she sounded like a snob.
"It’s not gossip, Bryn. But you’re probably right. Maybe Rick ought to tell you about it himself."
Grateful that Liza’s tone was reflective, and not hurt, she said, "Yes, well, I’ll go over now and talk to him." She quickly added, "About the committee meeting, I mean."
"Of course, dear."
Taste of Love: A Romance Sampler Page 5
