by Doreen Alsen
“’Kay.” Patsy sniffed while she followed Shanna into their bedroom.
Ruark slumped back onto the couch. His stomach felt full of slithering snakes and iron butterflies.
He shouldn’t have riled Patsy like that, but he could not stand for Momma to date Mr. Mason.
Chapter Twelve
“So, where’s my surprise?” Ainslie put on her seatbelt while Dave opened the driver’s side door. She’d nearly swooned when he helped her into the car.
In her other life, men treated her like spun glass. This new life—not so much.
Until now.
Dave reached into the backseat and pulled out a clay pot filled with different herbs. It had a big blue bow around the rim of the pot. “Spike mentioned that one of the things you miss is having an herb garden.” Handing it to her, he shrugged. “I thought you might be used to getting roses. I wanted to be different.”
Taking it from him, she brushed her fingertips over some spikes of rosemary. Pungent, rich, the scent filled the car. She had missed her little garden of herbs. “I love it! Thank you!” Remembering, she smiled. “The grounds around our home were landscaped and maintained by gardeners, but I had one small corner, just for me.” Bobby Lee hadn’t understood her desire to muck around in the dirt, but she had loved that little herb patch. She laid a hand on Dave’s arm. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked relieved as he put the car into gear. “Do you think Patsy will be disappointed?”
“I don’t think she’ll be able to think beyond that sweet little tussy-mussy you brought her.” She felt a smile bloom on her face as she remembered Patsy’s happy grin. “Those are the first flowers she’s ever gotten. You won yourself a fan there.”
“I’m honored. She’s a sweet little girl.”
“Oh, don’t let her fool you. She can be quite a handful when she sets her mind to something.”
“Then she’s a normal, well-adjusted kid.”
“Yeah, I guess she is. I hope she is.” She watched his face while he drove.
Such a handsome face. Eyes as bright a blue as she had ever seen, his every feature put there by God made a girl swoon. His body wasn’t bad either. Clearly, the man worked out. His long, perfect fingers tapped absently on the steering wheel.
She imagined those long, strong, capable fingers could wreak havoc with a girl’s self-control and composure.
She’d heard that self-control and composure were over-rated. She remembered the old saying about the size of a man’s fingers being an indicator of the size of another part of his body.
He glanced over at her and caught her staring at him. “What’s wrong? You’re looking at me like my skin suddenly turned green.”
Ainslie felt a blush spread across her face. She would not admit to speculating about the size of his penis. “Oh, no. I was just looking out your window to see if I could guess where we’re going.”
“Ah.” A smug looking smile spread across his face.
She could tell he knew exactly why she’d been staring at him, damn the man.
“We’re going to Hope’s. Have you been there yet?”
She chuffed a laugh. “The only restaurant I’ve been to in ages is The End Zone.”
Dave pressed his lips together and nodded. “Well, Bobby’s food is good, but Hope’s exists in a different dimension. She’s a genius.”
“I’m looking forward to it even more then.”
“I hope you’ll like it there.” He pushed down on his blinker and maneuvered the traffic to make a left turn.
He was handsome, no doubt, and there was no question about her well being when with him.
And he brought her baby girls fussy, wrapped in doilies, little bouquets of flowers.
They pulled into the parking lot outside of a cozy little cottage with a friendly looking front garden and a yellow glow from candles in each window. A simple sign in cranberry with gilt lettering on the gate proclaimed the restaurant Hope’s.
“It looks charming.” Ainslie smiled at Dave.
Dave smiled back as he got out of the car. “I’m glad you think so.”
She undid her seatbelt while he made his way to the passenger side of the car. He opened the door and helped her out.
Dave kept hold on her hands, pulling her closer to him. “I have to get this out of the way, or else I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else.” Lifting her chin with one finger, he kissed her.
His lips were firm and smooth and coaxed her lips open with the tip of his tongue. She couldn’t help but respond to his kiss. He tasted like peppermint and dazzling magic.
Dave pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. It was a good thing he was holding her up because her knees wobbled a little. “Let’s go in.” He bent down and stole another kiss.
Oh, Lordy. “Okay.”
The man grinned like a pirate in a cave full of booty.
“C’mon, let’s go eat.” He laid a hand at the small of her back as they walked up the flagstone path leading to Hope’s.
****
Man, he shouldn’t have kissed her. He’d wanted to get it out of the way so he could concentrate on getting to know her without any latent testosterone sizzling through the air.
Bad idea. He’d had no way of knowing how potent Ainslie Logan was. She should come with a warning label. If he got this hot under the collar after one simple kiss, making love to her might just cause him to have a heart attack.
Yep, he decided right then and there, heart attack be damned, that making love Ainslie Logan was definitely part of his plan. Not tonight, but eventually. Hopefully very, very soon.
Being a weeknight, Hope’s looked fairly deserted. He opened the door into a comfortable parlor, reminiscent of a time long past. Furnished with overstuffed chairs and a settee, the walls were mostly shelves, laden with books in case a customer had to wait for a table. Mismatched shades topped the lamps, which glowed with a homey, welcoming light. A quiet soundtrack of classical guitar music filled the small room, accompanied by the rhythmic cling of silverware hitting plates and the murmur of intimate conversations. Delicious, mouth-watering scents wafted from the kitchen.
The hostess, a woman whose daughter had just graduated from Addington High last spring, looked up from the reservations book and smiled. “Mr. Mason! So nice to see you!”
Dave nodded back. “Mrs. Gale. How’s Melissa doing?”
Mrs. Gale’s smile grew broader. “Just great! I think she just might make the Dean’s List over at Barrett.”
“That’s pretty impressive, being her first semester and all.”
“She gets that from my side of the family.” Mrs. Gale picked up a couple of menus and a wine list. “You have a table in the tavern, right?”
“That’s the plan.” He smiled at Ainslie and guided her ahead of him as Mrs. Gale led them to their table.
Tucked away in a corner that was close enough to the fireplace without getting overheated, their table stood next to a bay window that looked out over a pond and Hope’s gardens. She mostly had mums going on and some tiny pumpkins. The evening sun would set right behind the gardens and wash them in pink and magenta light.
He helped Ainslie into her seat then took his own as Mrs. Gale put down the menus in front of them. “I’ll make sure Nicole knows you’re here.” She left.
“This is lovely,” Ainslie said as she looked around. She might have been blushing, but he couldn’t tell because of the candlelight and the glow from the fireplace.
“It’s all new. Hope got her start catering out of her kitchen when her husband died on 9-11. Her business just kept growing until it was more than she could handle in her kitchen, on her own.”
All the color drained out of Ainslie’s face. “Oh, no!” she gasped. “How horrible for her. I can’t even imagine that kind of loss.” She sighed. “It’s impressive how she moved on. While it’s small comfort, how lucky for her that she had a skill she could fall back on when her husband died.” She hid behind the
hand-written menu. “So, what’s good?”
Well, fabulous start, asshole. He wanted her to have a good time, not dwell on her current job situation. “Hard to say. It’s all good. Or so I’ve been told.”
Right in the nick of time, Nicole, as promised, glided up to the table, bearing a plate of cheese and crackers. “Hi, Mr. Mason! How are you?”
“Great.” Nicole had graduated from Addington High about two years ago, if his memory was correct.
“Have you had a chance to look at the wine list?” Nicole asked Dave.
Ainslie looked at him. “I really better not have any. I have so much to do when I get home.”
“Hope has very nice Mosel Riesling from a little winery in Trier. One glass wouldn’t hurt,” he wheedled. He knew jack squat about wine. He’d known the subject would come up so he asked Ian Ross for advice.
“Oh,” Ainslie said. “Is it from the Reichsgraf von Kesselstadt Winzerei?” She smiled at him. “It is a wonderful wine. You’re right. One glass wouldn’t hurt, I guess.”
He handed Nicole the wine list, happy for something to do. Of course, Ainslie knew about good wine. He hoped to hell it was from the Rikesgraff fonn Whereever. “We’ll have a bottle of the wine and a bottle of Pellegrino as well.”
“Very good.” Nicole scratched her pencil on her order book and took off.
“So many things to choose from. It’s difficult to know where to start,” Ainslie murmured. “It all sounds so delicious.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Forget the menu. She was the most delicious thing he’d seen in ages. He wanted to devour her in little bites and sips, so he could savor her.
Make it last a long time.
He had to loosen his collar as he dragged his eyes away from her and focused them on the menu.
Dave looked up to see Ainslie looking at him. Her eyes were big, brown and beautiful. It took him a moment to remember how to speak. “She’s, uh, well known for her shrimp in puff pastry.”
Ainslie wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m allergic to shellfish. What else is good?”
“Oh.” He just wanted to lean over the table and kiss the tip of that cute little nose. “I always do the shrimp things.”
“I guess you need to try something else. You know, take a walk on the wild side.” Her eyes twinkled and sparked with humor.
“I suppose I do.” He closed the menu and reached for a cracker and a slice of cheddar. “Why don’t you decide for both of us?”
She grinned. “Okay. I hope you like grits.”
“Hope doesn’t make grits.”
“I bet she would if I asked her.” She tilted her head. “Don’t you like grits?”
“I’ve never had them. I’m not real adventurous with foreign food.”
“No!” She slapped a hand over her heart. “Really? I never would have guessed.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
She shook her head, innocence personified. “Of course not. But you are the most predictable customer at The End Zone.”
“I’m not. I mix it up all the time.” He was totally appreciating her teasing him. He didn’t expect it.
“Your idea of mixing it up is having onion rings with your Daveburger instead of fries.”
“I get wings every once in a while.”
She laughed. “You big ol’ maverick, you.”
Nicole came back to the table and delivered their wine and Pellegrino. She showed the wine to Dave. When he nodded, she went ahead with the ceremony of opening the bottle and presenting the wine. “Have you decided?”
“Do you still want me to order for you?” Ainslie grinned. “You can’t complain. You’ve got to eat it all.”
Dave inclined his head, like a king granting a boon. “Go ahead.”
“You asked for it.” She smiled at Nicole. “We’d like to start with the baked brie. Then, we’d like the Chicken Dijon with grits instead of the wild rice?”
Nicole tapped her pen on her order book. “Grits.” Looked like Nicole had the same queasy reaction as Dave did when it came to the “g” word. “I can ask. Bleu cheese or the house vinaigrette on your salads?”
“House. I’m sure it’s delicious.” She handed both her and Dave’s menu to Nicole. “Thank you!”
“Very good.” Nicole hurried away.
Ainslie laid her elbows on the table, linked her fingers, and rested her chin on her fingers. “How’s that?”
“Brie and grits. What’s not to like?”
“That’s the spirit.” She picked up her wine glass and swirled around the pale liquid in it. Bringing it to her nose, she sniffed the fragrant wine. “This smells lovely, delicate with a small hint of apricot.”
Dave picked up his glass and sniffed it. He couldn’t smell anything but wine, philistine that he was. So he held the glass over the table. “To grits.”
She clinked her glass against his. “To grits.”
****
Ainslie smiled as she sipped her wine. “This is good.”
“You better hope the grits are.”
“Hush, you. You’re going to love them.” He was so cute when he was grumpy. “I make a mean bowl of grits.”
“One of your best dishes?”
“My only dish, actually.” She felt her body go warm, shame at admitting this next bit. “We had a housekeeper who cooked for us most days.” Dear Lord, she’d been so spoiled. “On the days she took off, she always left casseroles and such in the freezer.”
“You have other talents, I imagine.”
She grimaced. “I guess you could say that. Most of the time I was out and about, going to meetings of one committee or another. I was the go-to girl if you wanted to have a successful event. And of course, I was always the hostess with the mostest, putting on parties and such for Bobby Lee’s business associates.” A blue funk threatened her, remembering how everybody thought she had known all along about Bobby Lee.
“How did you meet him?” Dave’s eyes looked understanding and safe.
“The night I won Miss South Carolina.” She shook her head at herself. “I was so full of myself, and he really turned up the charm to eleven.”
Nicole came to the table, delivering the baked brie. The scent of cheese and pastry, accented with the tangy bite that came from the tomato chutney, wafted up to make her mouth water. Heaven on a plate.
“Thanks,” Dave said.
Nicole smiled and left them alone again.
“He must have been very charismatic.”
“Oh, yes. I was so young and stupid. He was this successful man, not too much older than me, who wore designer suits and always had a lot of money to throw around. I never stood a chance.” She looked him in the eyes, waiting for him to judge her young, stupid self.
“Okay, you got me at the brie.” Dave swallowed a fork full. “This is good.”
“Told you.” He puzzled her. He didn’t react the way she thought he would. She forked up a wedge of the brie and slipped it into her mouth.
He paid special attention to that, his eyes following the movement of her tongue. It sent shivers up her arms.
Dave cleared his throat and wiped his lips with his napkin. “So you fell in love with him.”
“I adored him. We’d walk through a store, and I’d notice something, and he’d say, ‘Do you like that, sugar? Let me get it for you.’ And he did. He took me on trips, to the best restaurants, the opera, ballet, you name it. He took me all over the world, we stayed at all the best hotels, the whole nine yards.”
Dave said, “Hard to resist.”
Ainslie shook her head. “Especially if you’re young and inexperienced. Look…” She put her fork down. “I’m sure all this ancient history is boring.”
“Not at all. You’re this puzzle I want to figure out.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “I’m no puzzle.”
He picked up his wine glass and held it up to the light. “I beg to differ. Like, why does a wealthy woman need to move no
rth and work herself to a frazzle with menial jobs?”
“I’m not wealthy anymore. And because I let Bobby Lee take over my life, I didn’t finish college. Now I want to earn money the honest way, to be a good example for my children. A fresh start for me and my babies.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m sure there’s more money. Bobby Lee can’t be moved to tell me where it is. It would only go to pay off some of his clients. I wouldn’t see a penny of it.” She took a delicate sip of her wine. “I wouldn’t want to.”
“I can’t imagine doing that to my family.”
“Bobby Lee Logan only cared about Bobby Lee Logan.”
Nicole showed up to bring them their salads. Dave looked at his with a touch of disdain. Ainslie laughed. “What’s wrong?”
“Why couldn’t you order the bleu cheese?”
“I’m broadening your horizons. And protecting your cholesterol.”
“My cholesterol is just fine, thank you very much. Since when are tomatoes yellow?” He stabbed a bite of the heirloom tomato on his salad with suspicion then shoved it into his mouth and munched.
“See, not so bad.” Ainslie chuckled.
He swallowed. “Not bad.” Putting his fork down on his salad plate, he sat back in his chair.
She wanted to change the subject. Her ex-husband wasn’t worth a spare thought. “What about you? How’d you get to be such an amazing high school principal?”
“I love kids.”
For him, she sensed, it was just that simple. He was direct and to the point. He was honest and didn’t pretend to be what he wasn’t. She knew that like she knew her children.
“You really do.” She smiled, and he grinned at her back.
“Yeah.”
“Why isn’t there a Mrs. Dave tending the home fires?” It was a fair question. She’d been spilling her guts all night long.
“Haven’t met her yet.” He picked another tomato out of his salad. “Or maybe I have, and she doesn’t know it.” He lowered and raised his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.
“No, really. Tell me about you. I told you about Bobby Lee, the Wonder Dad.”
