“They’re beautiful,” she insisted.
Dare caught Steven’s gaze. He shrugged, shaking his head, and wearing a bewildered expression on his face.
Steven nodded in response and spoke in low tones. “Dare, it’s the same principle as when a woman has a new baby, and the kid is homely as heck, but the mother doesn’t have a clue…,” he explained.
“Oh!” he said with a grin. “Got it.”
“Hey, I don’t like what you’re suggesting,” Belle protested. “They’re both handsome dogs.”
“Uh, huh,” Steven said obligingly, but decided to change the subject fast. “And you crocheted how many granny squares this morning?”
“I don’t know. Probably upwards to ten or eleven.”
“Wow!” Steven said. “And you haven’t crocheted since you were eleven? I’m surprised you remembered how.”
“I suppose it’s a lot like riding a bike…,” she mused. “Hey! Riding a bike. That’s a hobby! Right?”
“Forget it, Belle,” Steven said. “Remember when you took up in-line skating several years ago.”
She winced and absently rubbed the wrist she’d broken during her first and last attempt at the recreational activity.
“Back to the granny squares,” she said with a chagrined sigh. “Do either of you know how to connect them to make an afghan? What am I going to do with all those squares?” she moaned, glancing from Steven to Dare.
“I don’t know how to connect them,” Steven said, turning to Dare with a shrug. “Duct tape?”
“I don’t know either,” Dare admitted, laughing. “Hey, but I don’t think your canning idea is bad,” he commented. “I wouldn’t mind being the recipient of canned fruits and vegetables.”
“She’d probably poison us!” Steven cried.
“Hey, that’s what Lacey said,” Belle griped. “I’m certainly capable of following directions,” she said in her own defense. “How hard could it be?”
“Let’s not find out,” Steven muttered.
Suddenly, Belle watched them curiously. “Hey, you never told me why you’re here. We seem to have gone off on a tangent.”
“Oh,” Dare said, “you’re right. I have a question for you regarding the Rodriguez case.”
She perked up, glad for the opportunity to discuss something meaningful. “Yes? What?” she asked eagerly, searching his eyes. She barely refrained from bouncing up and down in anticipation of the question. She felt like a contestant on a quiz show.
Steven glanced at his watch and grimaced. “We’re late. Dare, can you ask her later? Lacey is waiting at the pizza parlor, and she doesn’t appreciate it when I’m late. Belle, we’re heading over to Papa Renaldo’s.”
“Care to join us?” Dare asked.
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” she said, deflated. “It sounds like you all already had plans.”
“Well, we’d planned to invite you, but we were distracted by your search for serenity,” Steven said drolly. “Come on. I’m sure your pursuit of hobby happiness has left you famished.”
She glanced at Dare uncertainly.
“Come with us,” he urged. “Inviting you along really was the reason for our visit. As a sidebar, I’d planned to talk to you about the case.”
Talk about the case. Heavy sigh. Oh, how she longed to talk about the case—any case. Reading those law books—though enchanting in their own right—simply wasn’t the same as say, a rousing discussion of case law with good friends.
“I am hungry,” she admitted, but refrained from telling her friends what she was most hungry for. She was hungry for talk of work, anything work, about new cases and old; was even hungry for glorious office gossip.
“Good then,” Dare said crisply. “Steven tells me Renaldo’s has the best pizza in town.”
“It’s true,” she concurred. “Okay, I’d love to go. I could definitely use something to eat. Do you mind if I freshen up a bit?”
Steven grimaced as he checked his watch. Dare noticed. “Why don’t you go on ahead and meet up with Lacey. If Belle doesn’t mind, we can drive together in her car.”
“That’d be great,” Steven said with relief.
He left, and Dare followed Belle into her house. “Have a seat in the living room,” she told him, and then dashed upstairs to get ready.
She dressed quickly in tan slacks and a soft blue sweater. She ran a brush through her hair, refreshed her makeup, and headed downstairs. She found Dare standing, holding the stack of granny squares in his hands. He grinned broadly. “You really crocheted all of these this morning?” he said incredulously.
“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “Please don’t tell Millicent.”
He laughed. “I won’t.” He noticed the law book on the end table. “So you read this?”
She nodded. “Cover to cover. I pick that one up and I just can’t seem to put it down,” she marveled.
His eyes widened in surprise. He tossed the book onto the couch with a barely concealed shudder. It landed with a thud.
Belle gasped. That volume was a treasure, to be handled carefully, and with great reverence. “You don’t find that edition engaging?” she asked him curiously.
“Well, yes, I suppose—in the same way I’m engaged when my car is stuck in the mud and I have to pull it out.”
She cocked her head slightly. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Huh? Well, I’m ready to go,” she said absently.
“And quick as a wink, too,” he observed.
During the short drive to the restaurant, Belle barely said a word. She felt exhausted and wondered if perhaps she should have stayed home and turned in early. She couldn’t stifle a yawn and Dare noticed.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “It’s been a long day.”
“What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” he asked curiously.
She shook her head. “Who knows?”
“Will the hobby search continue, or will you practice the art of simply being?”
She shot him a searching glance as she pulled into the parking lot of the pizzeria. Was he making fun of her? She suspected he was.
When she didn’t answer, he prompted with a, “Well?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think you could spare a few hours tomorrow? I have a few things to show you related to the case?”
“Really?” She couldn’t suppress her enthusiasm. Could it be true that she would escape the drudgery of her hobby search for even a few short hours tomorrow?
“May I pick you up at your place about ten in the morning?” he asked.
“Sounds fine,” she agreed.
“One thing,” he said, turning in the seat to face her. “I’ll allow you to help me out with the case if you’ll go somewhere with me Sunday, eight o’clock sharp.”
She shook her head, confused. “I don’t get… Is it related to the case, as well?”
He shook his head. “I’d like to take a drive to the coast. With you,” he added, smiling. “How long has it been since you’ve spent a day at the beach?”
She searched her brain. It had been two or three years at least. “Are you asking me on a date?” she inquired.
He smiled. “Yes.”
***
“My ‘yes’ to going to the beach on Sunday is a condition of him allowing me to work on the case tomorrow,” Belle told Lacey in a hushed voice.
The men were at the restaurant counter placing their pizza order and Belle didn’t want them to hear her. “That’s pretty nervy, don’t you think?”
Lacey chuckled. “He probably realized he wasn’t likely to get you to go anywhere—unrelated to the case, that is—unless he resorted to stronger ammunition.”
“Why would he want to take me to the beach?” she asked, brows furrowed in a frown.
“Are you being serious now, or just fishing for compliments?”
Belle threw her hands up, and Lacey realized her question was a real one.
“He likes you,” she said simply.
“Why?”
“Okay, are we going to talk in circles all evening?—because you’re wearing me out.”
Belle shook her head confusedly.
“You’re gorgeous!” Lacey said. “Good grief, do you ever look in the mirror?”
Belle subsided into the chair, casting a quick glance at the men to assure they couldn’t hear her. “If Dare likes me for my looks, then I’d say he’s fairly superficial and not someone I care to continue associating with. Curls or no curls,” she added with a chuckle.
“Belle,” Lacey groaned, “while you are a decidedly brilliant attorney, and a wonderful person, I do wonder sometimes if you’re emotionally stunted.”
“What?” she cried shrilly.
She shook her head. “You definitely need a vacation. And, it’s high time you dated again. Good grief, you need a distraction—any distraction to take you away from work. I’d say Dare is about as good looking a diversion as there ever was.”
“He is handsome,” she admitted off-handedly, eyeing him as he stood beside Steven and waited for their sodas. “But his personality can be grating.”
“His can be grating?” Lacey glanced heavenward. “And Belle, Dare is more than a pretty face. Far more. If you spend some time with him, you’re liable to find that out for yourself.”
When the men returned to the table carrying soda glasses and a pitcher of pop, Belle studied him briefly. He was arguably the best looking man in the room. And she hadn’t dated for some time. Huh, could dating qualify as a hobby? she wondered, and then grinned at the cheeky thought.
He noticed. “What’s so funny?” he asked, glancing around to discern the source of her amusement.
“Nothing. Hey, what’s that question you were going to ask me?” She watched him eagerly, much like Tri watched her when she was filling his dog bowl with kibble.
“Ah, let’s leave it for later,” he said with a sigh. “There’s always tomorrow. I see no reason to ruin tonight with work talk.”
“Really, it’s fine. Ask me. Go ahead. Ask me.” He simply had to ask her that question. He just … did.
“Later,” he said again, in a placating tone. He reached for the pitcher of pop and began filling their glasses.
“Are you sure? I mean, I’d be glad to answer any questions you might have about the Rodriquez case. Truly, I’d hate for you to forget the question. I’m sure it must be awfully important for you to have brought it up in the first place. Go on.”
Belle knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t help herself. He watched her with barely concealed pity. “You do need a hobby.”
“Ah, shut up!”
He burst out laughing. “Did you really just tell me to shut up?”
She didn’t bother responding. He was torturing her—knew very well he was—and clearly relished the power. Maybe she wouldn’t bother to answer his doggone question when he finally got around to asking it. Maybe she wouldn’t help him out at all with the case. Maybe he could just slosh through it without her help.
Maybe she wouldn’t accompany him anywhere tomorrow, case or no case.
Yeah, right.
Chapter Eleven
Belle was dressed and ready to go when Dare arrived at her house at ten o’clock on the dot the next day. She looked polished and professional in a navy A-line skirt, white blouse, and navy pumps. She had pulled back her sleek blond hair and clipped it smoothly in place. She was the embodiment of a career woman eager to get to work.
Dare smiled approvingly when she opened the door. “Don’t you look nice,” he observed smoothly.
“Thank you. You, too.”
He did look very handsome in dark slacks and a shirt that featured varying shades of blue that brought out the crisp, cool blue of his eyes.
Belle closed and locked the door behind her and followed him to his economy car. She was somewhat surprised by his car, having half-expected him to drive up in a low slung sports car.
He opened the passenger door and she slipped in. Her eyes lighted on a piece of pottery stowed between the seats. As Dare slid into the car, he noticed her looking at the clay pot. “Rosaria made that for me,” he said as he belted up and started the ignition.
“Rosaria Rodriquez? May I?” He nodded and she reached for the pot.
“She tells me it’s a replica of a piece found at an archaeological dig in Guatemala. Notice the interesting pattern around the lip,” he pointed out, glancing at her briefly before pulling into traffic.
“It’s beautiful.”
So Rosaria had made him a pot? She had never made her a pot. Belle reached for the piece, turning it around for a closer look. She checked out the base, noting it was signed and dated. As she tucked it safely back between the seats, something occurred to her. “Pottery is a hobby!”
Dare shot her an amused glance, then resumed staring straight ahead. “Yes, pottery can be a hobby,” he said. “Have you just decided on your new hobby?”
She considered the question. “I guess I’d have to pick up some clay,” she murmured aloud as she did a mental inventory of the items she would need to pursue the craft.
“I, uh, suspect Rosaria probably made that particular piece on a wheel,” he observed. “You’d probably have to take a class in order to have access to one.” He chuckled. “I don’t recommend purchasing one until you’ve actually given the hobby a lengthy try first.”
Should she sign up for a pottery class? She just wasn’t sure if she was ready to commit to a class schedule of any kind. She suspected that once she returned to work, she might not manage to fit classes into her hectic schedule, particularly if they were scheduled more than once each week.
“I’ll just have to mull it over,” she said.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said good-naturedly. “Hey, you haven’t asked where we’re going.”
“I was distracted by the pot,” she said. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” he said somewhat mysteriously.
“This is case-related?”
“Absolutely, so sit back and enjoy the ride.”
He drove for several miles, and she barely registered the route they were on. As usual, her mind raced as she mentally reviewed aspects of the case. She still wondered what question Dare had intended to ask her last night, but refused to give him the satisfaction of pressing him to ask it now. She had some dignity.
When he suddenly turned into the driveway of what appeared to be an upscale apartment complex, she watched him curiously. He parked and turned to her. “Let’s get out and have a look around.”
He climbed out of the car and rounded the front to open her door, but she had already stepped out and moved to stand on a sidewalk that appeared to wind through the complex. She saw the grounds were lovely, with flowerbeds and neatly trimmed trees. She also saw a playground for children, boasting a play structure that rivaled any she had seen before. The structure was a tangle of platforms, swings, slides, and other engaging activities sure to appeal to children of all ages.
Belle resisted the urge to dash over and climb on a swing. As a child, she had always loved to swing. She remembered her grandfather had hung one from a tall tree in the backyard of his home, and she had spent hours on it, daydreaming that she was a butterfly or a bird and could take flight on a whim.
Dare noticed her studying the playground. “What are you thinking?” he asked
She smiled self-consciously. “Oh, I was just remembering how much I loved to swing when I was a kid.”
He took her elbow and to her surprise, led her over to it. “Climb on. I’ll push.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s all right.”
“Are you sure?” He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“Oh, why not?” she acquiesced.
She sat down on the swing and he took hold, gently easing her back. He released her, and she glided forward, then back. She felt the light p
ressure of his warm hand on her back. “Higher?” he asked.
She turned to meet his gaze, smiled broadly, and nodded.
“Hold on tight then.”
This time, he pushed harder and she sailed into the sky. He stepped back and watched her slice through the air.
Belle suddenly felt herself transported back to her childhood—to a time when she didn’t have a care in the world. She could have remained on the swing all day, had she not remembered she was actually working and was light years past the lazy days of her early childhood.
She abruptly urged the swing to slow. Dare came around the front and helped her ease to a stop as he grabbed hold of the chains on either side of her. “That was fun,” she said, smiling up at him. “You really ought to try it.”
He didn’t immediately release his hold, his hands on either side of her. Belle met his gaze. He was so close she could see the blue depths of his irises, and was mesmerized as they appeared to darken. The sparkle of humor she’d seen a second or two before was replaced by something different, something not readily unidentifiable. Curiosity? Desire? She couldn’t be sure.
When he shifted his hand and it came to rest on hers, she felt a charge, like an electric shock, course through her system. She watched him uncertainly, chewing her lower lip. He leaned even closer, his full, masculine lips forming a smile and hovering inches from her face.
Belle suddenly felt as if she were on a precipice. Meeting his lips in a kiss might very well take her to dizzying heights, but … might also send her toppling over a cliff. She realized she wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel his warm lips against her own, but… they were on the clock! She pulled back abruptly, breaking the spell.
Dare watched her briefly, his eyes narrowed speculatively. Suddenly, he pulled back and straightened to his full height. “Swings aren’t really my thing. I’m more a slide kind of a guy,” he told her as he took her elbow and guided her off the swing and back to the pathway. “Let’s take a walk.”
She nodded and stared straight ahead, but watched him out of the corner of her eye whenever the opportunity presented itself. Had they really nearly kissed? And during work hours? What had he been thinking? What had she been thinking?
Simply Being Belle Page 9
