by Maddy Barone
His face showed horror, and she thought it was genuine. “Rip it out? Rip all that work out?”
Since the horror seemed to be real, she suppressed her laugh. “Or you can just keep knitting the way it is and you’ll have a weird shaped dishcloth.”
“A weird shaped dishcloth is just fine with me. Like you said in class, the dishes won’t care.”
She handed the knitting back to him. “Problem solved.”
“That was fast.” Dusty looked disappointed. “I thought it would take a lot longer for you to figure out my mistake.”
She glanced at the clock and then the television. “The game is on. My plans for this evening were to knit and watch baseball. You could stay and watch the game with me, and we could both knit. If you have any trouble with your dishcloth I’d be right here to help.”
“Thank God.” He sighed and gave her a melting look. “I was hoping you’d let me stay.”
Shaking her head, she reached for the TV remote and her knitting bag. Inside she was smiling. Spending more time with Dusty was no hardship. She had never expected to have a boyfriend at all, much less one who could sit next to her on the couch, watching a baseball game while they both worked on a knitting project. This was almost too good to be true. She slanted a sideways glance at him and saw his hands maneuvering his needles with a delicate care. It was absolutely the sexiest thing she had ever seen.
In the bottom of the fifth inning, her phone rang. She picked it up. “Bueno.”
It was José, her upstairs neighbor. He was about to run out for groceries and wondered if he could pick her up anything. José was thoughtful like that. He’d always been kind to her.
“No, José, I don’t need anything, but thank you for asking.”
She set her phone back on the table and picked up her knitting again. Dusty looked at her with his eyebrows pulled together.
“Was that the guy upstairs?” he asked.
“Yes, José. Why do you ask?”
He reached for the remote and turned the sound down a little bit. “He worries me. On Sunday, Brutus saw him and a few of his friends. They were arguing. Brutus said it sounded like they were threatening him.”
“Don’t worry. Really. José has completely turned his life around since he came home from prison. He spends his time at the church or in his apartment, not with his old gang. Some of his old friends haven’t figured that out yet. But he is nice. When he does his grocery shopping, he always calls to see if I need anything. I don’t have a car, so I need a ride to do my shopping. He deserves a chance to prove he’s a new man.”
She didn’t think Dusty was entirely convinced, but he just nodded and turned the sound back up. They knitted and watched baseball for another hour, and Isabel felt comfortable having Dusty there. Her imagination was probably running away with her, but she could envision many nights like this. A lifetime with a man who could share her interests was the best thing she could imagine. And it didn’t hurt that he was drop dead gorgeous.
The game wrapped up and Dusty folded his knitting and put it in the shopping bag. She looked at the shopping bag with a smile. “You know what you need, Dusty? A knitting bag. Something a little more permanent than a paper shopping sack.”
He made a face probably meant to indicate deep thought. He snapped his fingers. “I have it. Can you order me one of those rhinestone sunflower bags like Ana Gonzalez has?”
She laughed at him. “I’ll look through my catalogs tomorrow at work and see what’s available.”
“You can show me on Saturday at class.” He pulled her to her feet, and she walked with him to the door. “I’ll get there early. Would you like to go out to Rick’s for supper after class?”
“Sure. Why don’t we invite Brutus and Denise to join us? The least I can do for all your hard work on Sunday is buy the three of you supper.”
His body was hard and warm when he pulled her against him. “You can’t buy us supper, honey. That’s an insult to our generosity. I appreciate the thought, but no.”
“But—”
“No. But you could give me a kiss or two.”
That she could gladly do. Or three or four. They were very satisfying kisses, too. He lifted his head at last, and she saw a flush on his cheeks.
“I’m looking forward to Saturday,” he whispered. “See you then.”
Isabel closed the door after him, and in spite of her prosthetic, danced to her bedroom.
*
“Can I give you a hand with that?”
Isabel turned to the classroom door to find Dusty standing in it, holding his fuchsia store bag. The bag made her smile. Or maybe it was just seeing Dusty. “Sure. You can put the patterns on the table at each chair.”
He did, and paused to look at the pattern with a doubtful expression. “I knew it would be a hat. I saw the sample one when I signed up. But this doesn’t look very easy.”
“It is,” she assured him. “We’re going to do the knit stitch and purl stitch, just like in your dishcloth, only we’ll do them in the round. Trust me.”
“Always,” he said simply and kissed her.
The kiss was quick and light, but it sent a shiver down Isabel’s back. Always? They’d only known each other a week, so he was only kidding around.
The Knitting 102 class went very well. Anita was the star pupil, but Dusty was dogged in his determination to master knitting. The yarn he had chosen for his project was a beautiful turquoise merino wool. It was one of the pricier worsted weight yarns in the shop. He’d chosen it because it was his mom’s favorite color, and the hat would be a Christmas present for her. He fumbled a little bit with the long-tailed cast on, but every time he snuck a glance at Anita’s hat, he scowled with fierce concentration at his own. Isabel had to hide a smile when he did that. The grown-up war veteran felt he had to compete with a fourteen-year-old girl. And the girl was winning.
At the end of the three hours she called a halt. “Everyone is doing very well,” she said. “During the week, continue to work on the hat crown until it is four and a half inches from the cast on edge. Next week we will learn to decrease to make the top of the hat.”
The students put their knitting away, and filed out. Dusty stayed behind. “I won’t be able to make it next week,” he said. “I have to work. Could we get together one night next week and you could help me finish my hat?”
Anita, who had not left the room yet, mumbled, “Teacher’s pet.”
Dusty flashed the girl a big grin. “I hope so.”
Anita blushed and, giggling, left the classroom. Dusty put an arm around Isabel’s waist. “I am, aren’t I?”
“My pet?” She arched a brow. “I suppose you could be my pet, but only if I get to pet you.”
Something in his face changed. His eyelids half closed, and he leaned closer. “I’d love to be petted by you.”
Heat shot to her groin. “Would you? I thought we were going to take it slow.”
“Slow? Define slow.”
The warmth of his body, curved around hers, surprised a breathy sigh from her. “There you go again, saying one thing but doing another.” She’d intended the words to be a mild scold, but there was a sensual note in her voice that she had never heard before. “Dusty?”
“Sorry.” His lips brushed over her collarbone before he stepped away. “I don’t mean to be a tease.”
It made her feel a little better to see that he looked shaken. “Me neither, and I was only joking,” she said.
“Yeah, but what you said is true. I want to take you to bed so much, Isabel, that I can’t even think straight. I want it to be right, though, for you. For both of us.” He shoved his fingers into his hair and tugged. “Am I even making sense?”
She stared at him mutely, struggling to control her ragged breathing.
“I’m messing this up.” His voice was a mixture of disgust and wonder. “You probably won’t believe this, but I’m usually a pretty smooth talker with the ladies.”
She could believe it.
With his looks, he probably didn’t need to say very much. Just give a woman one of his killer smiles and crook his finger at her, and she would do whatever he wanted. “You’re not messing it up.”
“Yeah, I am.” He took a step further back and leaned against the edge of the table. “I’ve dated a lot of women, and I’ve been to bed with some of them. It’s not that I didn’t care for them, but none of them meant very much to me. Not like you do.” His eyelids went down, and then came up, so he was looking steadily into her eyes. “It hasn’t been very long since we met, but you already mean more to me than any of the girlfriends I’ve had in the past.”
Isabel swallowed hard. “Oh.” She swallowed again and forced strength into her voice. “That’s good to hear, Dusty. I really like you.”
Lame, she thought. Before she could reword her feelings, he nodded. “Like I said last Sunday, I want to find out where this can go. I want to take you to bed, yeah, but I want to see what we have outside of the bedroom first. I think maybe that’s even more important.”
Isabel stared at him. His words struck a chord of wonder and almost fierce gratitude in her. He wanted her. Dusty saw all of her and he still wanted her. Tears rose in her throat and stung her nose.
The floor squeaked outside the classroom. She and Dusty both straightened.
“Ahem.” There was color in Inez’s cheeks. Isabel wondered how much her sister had overheard. “I’m ready to close up. Are you staying to help, Dusty?”
“You bet.”
Inez gave him a big grin. After she went away, Dusty turned to Isabel. “I’ll help you close the shop. You still on for a burger at Rick’s?”
Did he think his honesty would drive her away? It had the opposite effect. “Yes!”
With Dusty’s help, they had the store closed up in record time.
Rick’s was just as crowded this week as it had been last week. Isabel looked around but didn’t see Brutus or Denise.
“They had other plans,” Dusty said when she asked about them.
That was okay. She wanted Dusty all to herself. As they ate and talked, Isabel made a realization that made her freeze for a moment. Dusty noticed and pointed a French fry at her.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
He ate the fry. “No, what?”
“I feel good.”
He dunked another fry into a pool of ketchup. “Well, that’s great, but you sound surprised by it.”
“I guess I am,” she said slowly. “I was thinking about what you said a little while ago. I haven’t known you that long, but I feel like we’ve been friends forever. I mean, I’m completely comfortable with you. With this.” She waved at the restaurant. A glance at him showed his bafflement. “Since Iraq, I’m usually not comfortable with people so soon. I like to keep my distance.”
The bafflement cleared. “I noticed that the day I tracked you down in your store.” He ginned at her. “But I’m pretty stubborn.”
“I’m glad you are.”
“Me, too.” The grin faded from his face, leaving him serious. “Is it because of your leg? Is that why you keep people at arm’s length?”
“No. Well, yes.” She brushed salt from her fingers with her napkin, not looking at him. “I don’t have many friends. Inez is my best friend. I do okay with the store regulars, like Ana Gonzalez, but men? No. I haven’t had any luck there.”
Dusty’s hand settled over hers and squeezed. “Back in Iraq, before the convoy left, I remember you talking about a fiancé. What happened to him?”
She tried to withdraw her hand, but he gripped tighter. “Felipe.” Eyes closed, she brought up the memories of the slender, handsome boy she’d once planned to spend the rest of her life with. “We were both eighteen when he asked me to marry him. Stupidly young and in love with the idea of being in love. I went to war while he stayed in Dallas to go to school to be an electrician.” She sighed. “When I came home, he visited me in the hospital every week for the first month or so. He never spoke about my injuries, and he never looked at my leg. I thought that meant he didn’t care about the injuries, only me.”
His fingers tightened slightly. “What happened?”
Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “After a while, he didn’t come as often. Sometimes he didn’t come for weeks. And after about six months, he broke off our engagement.”
“What?” Dusty’s thick black brows were a straight line over narrowed eyes. “Why?”
She looked down. “He said he still loved me, but he couldn’t live with me.” She cringed inwardly, remembering his words. “Not with what was left of me. He couldn’t be my husband.”
Dusty said something so rude she gaped at him. “Good riddance,” he finished.
Her smile was small, but real. “Yes. I didn’t think so at the time, but I’m glad it worked out like this.” Because, she added silently, if I had married Felipe, I wouldn’t be free to love you now.
Love? It was too soon for her feelings to be love. But she liked him. A lot.
“That little worm,” Dusty went on, scowling. “He abandoned you when you needed him most! And why? Because you gave a part of yourself in service to America.”
“No, Dusty. Or, yes, but back then I wasn’t very nice. I was a crabby, sullen, self-pitying bitch. When he came to visit, I took all my frustration out on him. I was horrible to him.”
“Well, that’s normal. It’s part of the grieving process. You’re not like that anymore. If he would have manned up and given you support when you needed it, he’d be a happy husband now. Jerk.”
Isabel shook her head, remembering the relentless pain. Even worse had been her helplessness. “I was the jerk.”
“You probably were,” he agreed, waving it off. “You lost not just a leg, but stuff that most people take completely for granted. How long did it take you to be able to walk to the bathroom by yourself? How many times did you lose your balance and fall over just getting out of bed?”
“A long time.” She couldn’t smile now. “It was bad. The recovery was awful. Not just the physical part. I was an emotional wreck. I didn’t start getting better emotionally until Inez taught me to knit. It’s been a long road to get to this point.”
He squeezed her fingers again. “I’m sorry that guy broke your heart. But I’m glad too. It would have been a tragedy to meet you again only to find you married with a bunch of kids.”
That brought her smile back. “I was just thinking that.”
“You want to go dancing?”
She blinked and glanced automatically at her leg. “Dancing? Where did that come from?”
“Married. Wedding.”
He looked at her expectantly, as if he’d explained it. “What?”
“Didn’t I mention that one of the guys at the station is getting married at the end of the month? I can bring a date. I’d love to take you. We can dance in the moonlight.”
“Dance? I’ll be happy to go, but I don’t dance. It’s embarrassing. People stare.”
He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Who cares? There’s probably a lot of things people stare at, but they don’t matter.”
“I’ll embarrass you.”
That made him laugh. “Me? No way. If there is truly something you don’t want to do, then we won’t. But I want to go out and have fun with you. What do you say?”
A smile she couldn’t hold back bloomed. “I say yes.”
“Good! It’ll be fun.”
Chapter Nine
Over the next few weeks they caught a couple more Ranger games, toured Dealey Plaza, went to the Aquarium, and spent leisurely hours in front of her TV, knitting and talking. And kissing. Sweet, hot kisses that she would have been glad to turn into more. Dusty always put an end to the kissing when it threatened to get out of hand. If she hadn’t felt the physical evidence of his desire, she would have thought him uninterested in her.
Every day she fell more deeply in love with him. She and Inez were doing
inventory in the store on a Thursday night after closing when she confided to her that she was falling in love with Dusty.
Her sister gave her an exuberant hug. “That’s wonderful, niña! I knew you two were made for each other the minute I saw him come into the store.”
“Well, I didn’t,” she said tartly, tapping her pen against her clipboard. “I don’t believe in love at first sight.”
Inez grinned. “It wasn’t love at first sight. I don’t think you liked him at all at first. What made you change your mind?”
Isabel thought about that. “He’s nice. No, it’s more than that.” She shook her head, still thinking of the way Dusty acted around her. “He treats me like a woman.”
Inez’s face changed subtly. “Have you two had se—”
“No!” Isabel felt her blush all the way up to the tips of her ears. “He says he wants to wait to see where we are going with this.”
“Ah. That’s why you love him. He cares more about you than his own—” Inez cleared her throat delicately. “Manly needs.”
Isabel giggled. “‘Manly needs’? Have you been reading those bodice ripper novels again?”
Inez lifted her nose with a superior air. “I find them very entertaining.” She dissolved into giggles. Sobering, she went on. “But you know what I mean. He cares for you too. Do you think he loves you?”
“I don’t know.” Isabel hoped he did. “It’s only been a month since we met.”
Inez gave her another hug, gentle and encouraging. “Almost six weeks, actually. When you meet the right person, it doesn’t need to take long. He learned to knit for you. That means something.”
“And he’s doing well with it. He finished the hat for his mom and now he’s working on the lacy cowl for Knitting 103.”
They spent many evenings on her couch, knitting side by side. It was during those one-on-one knitting lessons that the kissing threatened to get out of hand. He was trying to kill her. She’d never felt sorry for a hormone-driven teenaged boy before, but she was starting to.
