“You were my 9-1-1 call. I don’t go around kissing women in distress, either.”
“I’m not in distress any longer.” She shifted on his lap, extremely conscious of the fact he hadn’t loosened his grip on her—and that he was more aroused at this moment than he’d been that first night on her front porch. “Does that mean you’re not my client any longer?”
“No, I hope you’re still working on my house. I don’t see that a little kissing has anything to do with our professional relationship.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t. Whatever happened here today isn’t going to change your ideas for my living room, is it?”
“Of course not.” She shifted again, trying to put a small amount of space between them. But she was in an awkward position, off balance in more ways than one. Ethan’s body felt warm, firm, and oh, so good against her chest, stomach and thigh. Her legs dangled over his outspread knee. His hooded blue eyes and kissable lips hovered far too close for her peace of mind.
“Er, do you think you could let me up now? My legs are falling asleep.”
“Sorry.” He effortlessly shifted her to one knee, his hands firm around her waist, his fingers straying just a bit lower.
She put both feet on the ground, but felt a little shaky at the moment. She didn’t know if she suffered from a lack of blood flow to her legs…or to her brain, which obviously wasn’t thinking too clearly.
“I never did tell you why I walked out last night.”
His voice penetrated the fog between her ears. Robin forced her thoughts back to the conversation they’d had before the kissing began. “No, I suppose you didn’t.”
Chapter Ten
Ethan placed his hands under her arms and rose to his feet, supporting her easily. His smile was just as easy, and Robin wanted to believe he felt some tenderness toward her. Some emotion besides friendship. But then she worried that he might feel something more for her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted that, either. Darn, but she was confused.
And they still hadn’t finished their conversation.
“Okay. I’m listening.” She stretched, then walked around the rocks to stare at the stream once again. The scene was peaceful, soothing. She needed calm at the moment; her mind was in turmoil.
“Last night was entirely my fault, Robin,” Ethan said from close behind her. “Whatever happened wasn’t because you’d been smothering me with design decisions. True, I had no idea you’d need my opinion so much. Since I’d never worked with a decorator before, I assumed you’d pick out things you thought I’d like and just buy them.”
“That’s not the best method.”
“I realize that now. But that night at your place, when I suggested you decorate my house, I didn’t know much about how the process worked.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, still looking at the scenery instead of him. “So if the decorating wasn’t the problem, what was?”
“How I was feeling about you.”
She turned around to face Ethan now that she’d slowed her thumping heart and stilled the tingling in her lips. “What do you mean?”
“When you first came to town and mentioned the wedding that almost happened, I immediately thought of the two women who’d stood me up at the altar. Oh, you didn’t look like them—they were as different from you as night and day. But the situation seemed similar. I didn’t expect to like you.”
“Then why did you ask me to dinner?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I have to admit that was your great-aunt’s doing. She called to talk to Bess, who’d gone to San Antonio. Sylvia was worried about you, Robin. She asked that I look after you as a favor.”
“That stinker! She had no business involving you.”
Ethan shook his head. “I didn’t see it that way. Bess and Sylvia are good friends. I couldn’t turn my back on a very reasonable request. Besides, I had a really good time.”
“I enjoyed myself, too, but that’s not the point. You wouldn’t have gotten involved if my great-aunt Sylvia hadn’t asked you.” Robin threw up her hands in exasperation. “You’d think I was ten years old.”
Ethan smiled. “No one would think that.”
“Well, I’m not real happy with my great-aunt at the moment.”
“How do you feel about me?”
“I’m not angry at you. You were just being a nice guy. As a matter of fact, I told myself that very same thing. I recognized that you were very polite.”
“Don’t make me out to be some kind of martyr. I didn’t suffer through our dates.”
“They weren’t dates.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you call sharing time together, having a meal. The point is, I didn’t mind asking you to dinner.”
“I realize that, but you wouldn’t have called me without someone else’s interference.”
“Robin, I haven’t dated anyone in a long time. That’s one reason my aunt is always encouraging me to go out, have some fun. You probably don’t realize this because you haven’t been in town very long, but I actually live a very boring life.”
Ethan, boring? He was exaggerating, of course. “She did mention something about you sitting at home too much.”
“She what?”
Robin grimaced. Now she’d done it; given away Bess’s confidence. “Your aunt and I kind of talked before she left. She mentioned that you’d probably sit at home and watch television, or just go in to the office and work too much, while she was gone.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you asked me over to dinner?”
Robin felt like squirming. “That might have had something to do with it. But,” she quickly added, “I also had a good time when we went to dinner and wanted to thank you.”
“I have a feeling our aunts have been talking to each other as well as to us individually.”
“You think they hatched some kind of conspiracy to get us together?”
“Sounds like it to me.”
“I can’t believe either one of them would think I was ready for dating. Good grief, I’d just dumped my fiancé three weeks before our wedding!”
“It does seem a little far-fetched they thought someone with my history would be an ideal candidate for a date with you.”
That stung a bit, although she understood his position. Someone who’d been dumped twice—not weeks before, but at the actual altar—certainly wouldn’t jump at the chance to get involved with a woman who’d done almost the same thing to her fiancé.
Ethan rubbed his jaw. “We’ve gotten off the subject again.”
“You’re right. Please, finish telling me why you walked out last night.”
“Robin, I walked out that night not because I was irritated with you, but because I discovered I genuinely liked you. From what happened today, I’m sure you can guess, I also found you attractive. Of course, I thought about the similarities in our pasts—”
His shoulder-mounted radio unit blared loudly in the peace of the idyllic summer glade.
“Dispatch to Parker. Chief, we have a situation at the Kash ’n’ Karry.”
He depressed the button. “I’m on my way.” Ethan turned to Robin. “We have to go now. We’ll talk more later, okay?”
“Sure,” she said, as he grasped her hand and led her toward the police car. Except now she was more confused than ever, and she had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
As they roared down the gravel road toward the highway, the only conclusion she could reach from their conversation was that Ethan was going to tell her he desired her, he liked her, but…
ETHAN WASN’T REAL HAPPY to take Robin along to the Kash ’n’ Karry, but he didn’t have an option. She was quiet as he drove as fast as possible down the farm-to-market road toward the intersection with the state highway. Probably scared to death, he thought. He tried to explain that he wasn’t endangering her life by taking her into an active crime scene, but his sketchy description as they sped down the t
wo-lane road seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Nothing could be farther from the truth. He and his dispatchers had worked out a code for “situations” involving Crazy Ed Kaminsky. But explaining the older man to someone unfamiliar with his escapades wasn’t easy.
“Here we are,” he said, as they pulled into the lot. “Why don’t you stay in the car. This shouldn’t take long.”
She craned her neck, rising up from the seat to see through the multiple posters, signs and advertisements that littered the glass entry into the convenience store. “Whatever you say.”
He smiled as he strolled through the door that never did close all the way. As he expected, Crazy Ed stood near the checkout counter, this time clutching a package of cupcakes and a bag of dry dog food.
“What’s going on, Mr. Kaminsky?”
“I told him to put this on my account, and the darn fool doesn’t understand!” His rheumy blue eyes appeared wild, but Ethan knew Crazy Ed was harmless. Unfortunately, it was sometimes difficult to convince a new clerk at the convenience store of that fact.
“This looks like a new person,” Ethan said as he nodded toward the teenage clerk. “I’ll bet they don’t understand your account.”
“What’s wrong with businesses anymore? Don’t they want their regular customers?”
“It’s just a mistake, Mr. Kaminsky. Why don’t you wait for me by the door, and I’ll straighten all this out.”
“About time somebody did,” the old man grumbled as he shuffled off in his bedroom slippers and 1970s-era, high-water jogging pants.
Once Crazy Ed was out of earshot, Ethan pulled out his wallet. “How much does he owe?”
“Four twenty-nine,” the wide-eyed teenager said. “Does he really do this often?”
“Only when he gets out from under the nose of his daughter. Don’t worry—he’s harmless. He needs to be in a nursing home, but she can’t afford one. And Mr. Kaminsky won’t give up his dog, so that’s another problem.”
“Do you always pay out of your own pocket?”
“His daughter will pay me back.” Ethan slid his wallet back in place. “Thanks for not panicking. You did the right thing by calling. I don’t like him out walking around, so I’d rather take care of it and give him a ride home.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Ethan walked to the door. “How about a ride home, Mr. Kaminsky? I’ll bet you haven’t had lunch yet.”
“Yeah, my daughter’ll be lookin’ for me,” he grumbled.
Robin appeared surprised when the two of them approached the car, but she didn’t say a thing about the unusual circumstances. When Ethan whispered in her ear that they were giving Crazy Ed a ride home, she just nodded and politely answered the older man’s questions, which ranged from whether she had a dog to whether she was a criminal under arrest.
After dropping off Crazy Ed and talking to his daughter, Ethan explained a bit of the “situation” the old man caused occasionally, then took Robin back to the municipal building. Again, she appeared quiet, but he didn’t have time to talk right now, anyway. He had a staff meeting at three o’clock that he had to get ready for.
“I’ll give you a call, okay?” he said, as Robin settled into her sporty coupe.
“Sure,” she replied, putting on one of her big, fake smiles. He didn’t know why, but her struggle to remain polite and cheerful hurt him more than he wanted to acknowledge.
ROBIN POURED HERSELF a glass of wine and settled onto the sofa. She should be working on sketches for Ethan’s home, but she didn’t feel like immersing herself in a project she wasn’t sure she’d see through to completion. Instead of thinking about Ethan or his house, she clicked on the television and tried to get involved in the rerun of a sitcom she’d never watched to begin with.
She was frowning and sipping her wine when the doorbell rang—and she almost sloshed the golden liquid on Mrs. Franklin’s couch. She hadn’t heard anyone pull up, but then, who could, over the canned laughter on the television sitcom?
As she passed by the window, she pulled back a sheer to see Ethan’s black Bronco sitting in the driveway. Her heart immediately started racing and her hopes leaped…until she remembered he was probably here to finish the conversation about how he didn’t want to be around her any longer.
She swung the door open. “Hello. Come in.”
He pulled open the storm door and stepped inside. He looked as good now as he had earlier; all crisply starched uniform and neatly trimmed hair. She couldn’t read his expression—not an unusual situation, since he kept tight control over himself.
“How are you?”
Bored silly. “Fine. Did you have any more problems with Mr. Kaminsky?”
“No. The rest of my day was fairly uneventful.”
Ethan looked uncomfortable, she thought. “You handled him really well. Some people would have locked him up, I’m sure.”
“He’s not dangerous—at least not yet. I hope his medication continues to help his condition. I’ve heard stories about him when he was younger. He was in World War II in the Pacific, and he’s been active in the VFW for years. I think it’s sad, maybe tragic, that he’s reduced to shuffling around in house slippers.”
“You respect him.”
Ethan shrugged. “I respect what he stood for. People who are willing to give their lives for their country have my admiration.”
“Well, whatever his situation, I wanted you to know I admired your treatment of Mr. Kaminsky. You have a kind heart.”
“Don’t make me into some kind of angel. I’m not.”
“I’m simply trying to give you a compliment.”
He smiled just a bit. “Sorry. I’m a little uncomfortable, I suppose, but thanks.” His smile faded. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation.”
“No, I suppose we didn’t.”
“Would you like to have dinner?”
She felt as though she’d been punched. As soon as she thought she had Ethan figured out, he did something to startle her. Like his kiss earlier today. The one that had blown her socks off. And now this invitation.
“Did you get another call from one of our aunts?” she quipped, trying to keep the conversation light.
Ethan shifted his weight to one leg and grimaced. “Ouch. No, I didn’t. I’d like to have the opportunity to finish the conversation we started earlier, and I’d like to share a meal with you.”
“This isn’t a pity date?”
“No, it isn’t. Why in the world would you think I pitied you?”
“That’s not what I meant. I suppose it was just a figure of speech.”
“So, do you want to have dinner?”
“Okay.” She looked down at her jeans and striped cotton shirt. “Do I need to change?”
“No, you’re fine.”
“Then let me grab my purse.” She walked into the kitchen and found her small zippered bag, slipped on the sandals she’d abandoned earlier and walked back into the living room.
Ethan was standing by the window, his back to her. He had a great backside.
“I’m ready.”
He turned around, his expression thoughtful. But then he smiled as though everything in his world was routine, even cheerful.
“Let’s go,” he said.
ETHAN HAD BEEN to Bretford House a dozen times with his aunt, members of the city council, and once for a Chamber of Commerce dinner. The restaurant was in an old frame house with a rock foundation and chimney. The grounds had been landscaped, including a small gazebo where an occasional wedding was performed. Tonight the gravel parking lot, which had been the side yard when the house was a residence, had enough empty spaces that he knew they’d have a table inside.
“I haven’t been here before,” Robin said, as he opened her door.
“The restaurant is fairly new by Ranger Springs standards—maybe two years old. The owner is a former chef from Fort Worth. He’s used the living room, dining room and bedrooms for separate dining areas, and everything looks kind of old
-fashioned.” The word romantic came to mind, but he pushed it aside for now. He didn’t know how Robin would react to such a statement, so he added, “I think you’ll like the food.”
Within a minute they were inside and seated. On the way to the table, he’d nodded or said hello to a half-dozen people he recognized. Ralph Bigger-staff was there with his wife of many years. Thelma was having dinner with her daughter, who’d divorced her cheating husband and moved back to town earlier this year.
He was getting to be as big a busybody as the rest of the town, except that he kept his observations and categorizations to himself. The way everyone was surreptitiously looking at Robin and him, he knew the rumor mill would be buzzing tomorrow.
“What’s good?” Robin asked as she opened the two-page menu.
“I’ve had the steak. Aunt Bess said the smoked chicken is great.”
She nodded and went back to studying the choices, as though she were terribly interested in food at the moment. Maybe she was. Maybe she was avoiding him and their conversation as long as possible.
When their waitress came to the table, they ordered wine with their meals. Ethan settled back into his chair, steepling his fingers as he studied Robin across the tiny vase of flowers and the votive candle. “This has been a long day for you, hasn’t it.”
She appeared thoughtful. “An eventful day. I’ve had busier.”
“In Houston.”
She nodded. “Preparing show homes, attending market with clients, then trying to look fresh at parties later. Sometimes the decorating profession can be very trying.”
“There’s nothing like show homes or decorating markets in Ranger Springs.”
“No,” she said thoughtfully. “Life here is certainly different.”
He wanted to ask whether life was better or worse here, but the waitress brought their wine, then left with the promise their salads would be out shortly. Having second thoughts, he decided perhaps he didn’t want to know the answer. He didn’t want to pry unnecessarily into her personal life or opinions, he told himself.
Robin sipped her wine. “I don’t suppose my professional or personal activities compare to the life-and-death choices you might have to make.”
The Bachelor Project Page 12
