“I want to apologize,” she said, beating him to the punch.
He motioned for her to continue.
“I’ve been very angry with you.”
He could take that. Even though it seemed she’d been in on the kissing as much as he, he’d already lectured himself about his part in it. He was responsible for his own actions, regardless. He nodded.
“Maybe it’s kind of like you felt when Aunt B told you she had a son. You felt she’d used you, or not been truthful, or hadn’t been honest with you.”
He didn’t quite make the connection and then she said, “I enjoyed every minute relating to you as Symon Sinclair. I respected you as a landscaper and a struggling writer. You didn’t tell me the whole truth.”
“It didn’t seem the thing to come out with at first. Then there didn’t seem to be the appropriate time. And I wanted you to accept me just as Symon Sinclair.”
“I did. It’s just harder to relate to a famous New York writer.”
That’s what was bothering her? Those sad amethyst eyes were getting to him. “I could give it up.”
Her mouth opened and she gaped. Finally she said, “You’d give up writing...for...me?”
“No,” he scoffed. “I’d give up New York. Writing is my life.”
Her lips twitched. He couldn’t tell if she was about to smile or frown or what. But there seemed no way they could get back to the easy camaraderie they’d had from the time they met. “But look,” he said, “I shared almost everything with you.” He heard what began to be desperation in his voice. “So, I kept it secret that I sold a lot of books and made a lot of money. Can you forgive me?”
When she didn’t respond right away but seemed to be twisting her hands on her lap, he exhaled a deep breath. “If I could, I’d spend a lifetime making it up to you.”
“I have one,” she said.
“One what?”
“Lifetime.”
While he was still pondering that, she said, “Why did you kiss me in the creek?”
Now they were getting to the real problem. Something they had to face before they could let it go. How honest could he be? Even with himself? But he began with all the things he’d told himself. The explanations. Reasons.
“Hold it,” she said. “What was the name of that letter you had me write for the editor?”
“Query?”
“Yeah. Query. Okay, you’re going into a long spiel here. Narrow it down to one sentence.”
He’d decided to take all the blame if necessary, apologize, ask forgiveness, get out of her way and get on with his life. But now he sat confused, looking into those blue eyes, watching words form on those red lips that he’d tasted, and seeing how the breeze lifted her long hair and brushed against the sides of her beautiful face.
What was she doing? Did she want to hear that she was the most beautiful, wonderful girl in the world? But it wasn’t just her looks. It was just her. She seemed to be deliberately making him suffer.
All right, Lord. If I hadn’t committed myself to you a little while ago maybe I could make up something. Maybe you could give me a little...holiness? Truth.
He’d tell her the truth. That might mean she would no longer be comfortable with him relating with her and her friends. He started to say, “Many reasons,” but to narrow it down to truth, he said, “Because you’re the kind of girl I could fall in love with.”
Her shoulders rose and she seemed to be twisting her hands on her lap beneath the table. But she asked. He had to tell her.
“So it could happen with any girl like me—?”
“There are no other girls like you.”
She just kept looking at him, but he didn’t know how to make it right. How could he regret it? “I can’t erase it. It happened. And I am sorry if it’s spoiled anything between you and Wesley. I won’t try to interfere. Or relate in any way that makes you uncomfortable.” He had to ask. “Was it so terrible?”
She looked directly at him. “It messed up my whole planned life.”
“It was a mistake. Let’s just move on.”
“If you keep talking like that I might have to beg Wesley to give the ring back to me.” She brought her hands up to the table and rubbed her bare finger. Did she tell Wes about the kiss? He broke up with her over it?
He gaped at it, at her, and she kept looking at it. He wasn’t sure if her lips were turned in a grin or grimace. “I tried so hard to relate to you just as Aunt B’s guest. I told myself you were just a man who cared about her and worked on the property. And I tried to accept you as a friend. But I couldn’t. I can’t because...”
Shaking his head, he pushed back from the table and stood. He mustn’t imagine—
“I have a secret,” she said.
He turned away. “Not good enough.” He started walking.
“Sy...muuun.”
He picked up his pace.
“I couldn’t because I love you.”
He slowed and looked over his shoulder.
She got out of her chair and he turned toward her. She ran all right in those high heels. They met in each other’s arms and they both were saying, “I love you.”
And they sealed it with a kiss.
When he came up for air he said, “You had me worried. It was either that, or I’d have to go jump in the creek and never come up.” He looked over at the cherry tree. “I could not have imagined this. That someone like you could love me.”
She tilted her head toward Mudd and SweetiePie lying together, peeking at them. “If they can do it, we can try.”
“Okay, then,” he said, finding breathing to be difficult. “I have a proposal to make.”
“Oh, my.” The tilt of her face to his was tempting him and her amethyst eyes were teasing. “Another one of those proposals?”
“This one is for that lifetime you mentioned. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I want—”
The back screen door opened. Miss B waved at them. “Lunch,” she said, and went back in.
Annabelle said, “Yes. Yes. Yes. You may be a son to her, but you’re going to be my caretaker.”
“My privilege, sweet Annie,” he said, and sealed the commitment with a kiss.
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781460310816
Copyright © 2013 by Yvonne Lehman
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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