Sarah-Jane looked down at her shirt. She was still in her “uniform” of polo shirt and khakis from The Stocking Stitch. “What’s wrong with these?”
“Honestly.” Felicity shook her head and physically steered Sarah-Jane toward her hybrid where it was parked in front of the candy shop. “I’ll enumerate all the reasons they’re wrong while you drive, starting with the fact that those polo shirts were too big for you even before you lost weight!”
Sarah-Jane pulled open the driver’s side door but hesitated, looking at Felicity across the top of the car. “What if he doesn’t show up tomorrow?”
Felicity’s expression softened. “He will, Sarah-Jane.”
If only she had her friend’s confidence. But Sarah-Jane got in the car, anyway. “Where to?”
“Well, not the discount superstore,” Felicity said wryly. “We’ll start at Charlene’s and work from there.”
“Char—” Sarah-Jane practically choked on the name of the exclusive boutique where people the likes of Wendy Fortune shopped. “Even if I could find something that fits me there—which I doubt—I can’t afford clothes from a place like that.”
“Ha! Shows you what you know. Charlene, herself, was in my shop this afternoon. She told me she’s having her twice-yearly sale. And I’ll bet you loading and unloading the dishwasher for the next week that she does have something that’ll fit you.”
Sarah-Jane rolled her eyes. “Fine. But you’re going to lose that bet.”
“I don’t think so.” Felicity gave a superior smile.
An hour later, Felicity was right and Sarah-Jane felt hot and tired from trying on what had to have been two dozen different outfits.
But she bought several, including a dress, as well as pretty panties and delicate-looking bras that she’d never, ever believed she could wear. The fact that she could made the exorbitant price tags worthwhile. And as she and Felicity left the store, which Charlene locked up after them, she figured that even if Wyatt didn’t show up in the park for lunch, at least she’d have a dress to wear to her dad’s birthday barbecue that would surely satisfy her mother.
The next morning, Sarah-Jane packed her lunch for work, wondering if she ought to dare the fates and pack enough for two. Dithering over the matter at all was embarrassing and she was glad that Felicity had already gone off to True Confections. She finally settled on her usual portion of salad and chopped, fresh vegetables. But at the last minute, she ran back inside the apartment, made a second salad and added two apples to the bag.
It seemed fantastic to her that Wyatt would want to share her completely boring, simple lunch, but if he did, she’d rather be prepared than not.
Then, tugging the shirttail hem of the new, tailored red blouse over the hips of her new, slim-fitting black slacks, she hurried to The Stocking Stitch.
And then, it was a matter of focusing enough to actually do her job, and not keep checking the time on her watch every five minutes. But finally, after what seemed an endless morning, the hands on her watch were straight up. Noon.
Trying not to look overly anxious, she went into the office where Maria was working at the desk, and retrieved her lunch from the small refrigerator they kept there. “I’m going to the park,” she said breezily.
Maria didn’t look up from what she was doing. “You have a nice time with your young man, niña.”
Sarah-Jane hadn’t uttered one word about Wyatt. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Maria just gave her a look over the top of her narrow reading glasses. “You have new clothes. Your hair isn’t dragged back in that ponytail for once. And you look lovely, by the way. Are you saying that’s not because of Wyatt Fortune?”
“Felicity talked me into some new clothes,” she muttered.
“Good for Felicity,” Maria said mildly but she was obviously amused. She waved her hand in a brushing motion. “No, go on. When you get back from lunch, I have an appointment this afternoon.”
“Oh. Well, I promise not to be late.”
“Sarah-Jane.” Another over-the-reading-glasses look. “I could set my watch based on your timeliness. I’m hoping you’ll find you want to be a little late leaving the company of your suitor.”
“Oh, Maria.” Sarah-Jane rolled her eyes and quickly left the store before it became even more obvious to her boss just how badly she already did want Wyatt’s company.
She went by foot as she always did, and had to forcibly slow her footsteps more than once. She absolutely refused to jog to the park. It was bad enough that she had hardly been able to sleep the night before. Or that she had kept getting out of bed to pull her new clothes out of the closet, changing her mind over and over again, whether to even wear them at all.
She realized she’d picked up her pace again when she nearly flew past the Community Park sign and slowed yet again as she turned along one of the walking paths. Her pulse was pounding, and it had nothing to do with her anxious feet. Don’t lose your cool when he’s not there.
She passed the benches by the lake area. Tugged nervously at her shirt-tail again. Plucked at the front to make sure the buttons weren’t gaping over her breasts. But the shirt was so well fitted, there were no gapes. The almost wispy white bra beneath was completely hidden. No overblown cleavage anywhere. She felt...almost normal.
It’s just lunch in the park.
She passed the playground area. Little kids were screeching and laughing.
Just a typical afternoon. No big deal.
Then her pulse just seemed to stop cold. Probably because her heart had jumped straight into her throat.
Not only had Wyatt shown up, but he was already there, before her. Sitting on the bench, facing away from her. But she’d recognize the back of his head anywhere.
She felt a little dizzy. Remembered that breathing tended to help that, and drew a shaky breath. She was a grown woman. Not a schoolgirl. It was time she remembered that.
She adjusted her grip on her insulated lunch bag and walked around the bench. The cluster of birds hovering in the grass nearby flew away, but she knew they wouldn’t be gone long. “You made it,” she greeted, as if she’d believed all along that he would.
He pulled off his sunglasses and smiled at her, right up into his eyes. Her heart skidded around all over again, making nonsense out of her “grown woman” pep talk.
“So did you.” And he did sound surprised. “I was afraid you’d change your mind.” He slid a few inches until he wasn’t sitting quite in the center of the bench. “Your seat awaits.”
He’d left her plenty of room to sit, but there’d be less space between them than if he’d just moved all the way to one side. Her mouth felt dry as she sat down next to him.
His thigh was only a few inches from hers.
Hers. Not Savannah’s.
For a moment, she had to squelch a little spurt of hysteria. Was she turning into some sort of psychotic? Had there been a split personality lurking inside her all these years?
She banished the feeling and made a production of opening her zippered lunch bag. “Savannah” had been like playing a part in a fantasy.
Sarah-Jane was only too real. Nor did she believe in real-life fantasies.
“I hope you don’t mind salad,” she said brightly. “There’s an apple, too.” She pulled it out and held it toward him. “If you want.”
“A beautiful woman offering an apple.” His lips tilted. He tucked the bow of his sunglasses down the neck of his pale gray Henley shirt and she caught a glimpse of the warm tanned skin underneath. “Glad I’m not the first one to cave to temptation, because I’d have to, even if I were.” His fingers brushed hers as he took the shining red apple from her.
Sarah-Jane nearly swallowed her tongue when his white teeth sank into the fruit with relish. He propped the ankle of his cowboy boot on top of the opposite knee and stretched an arm behind her on the back of the park bench. “This is the best seat in the house,” he said.
She managed a nod, focusing on the returning bi
rds. “Not too many birds hang out around the playground. Too many children making too much noise, I suppose. And over by the lake, the ducks tend to rule.” She stuck her hand in her lunch bag and came out with another plastic baggie. “I brought more birdseed, too.” She glanced up at him as she wedged the bag in the space between them on the bench and saw the amusement in his blue gaze.
“You look very pretty in red, Sarah-Jane,” he said softly.
Her breath escaped in a whoosh. Feeling self-conscious, she plucked at the collar and looked back at the birds. But her gaze kept straying back to his face.
He needed a shave, but the blur of brown over his hard jaw only seemed to make him more mouthwatering.
He probably looks just like that when he wakes up.
The thought had her nearly squirming in her seat. “My roommate, Felicity, chose it, actually.”
“Felicity has good taste.”
Sarah-Jane let out a breathless laugh. “Expensive taste, when it’s my savings she’s spending.” Which wasn’t true at all. Her friend was as good at finding bargains as anyone Sarah-Jane had ever met. But even marked down by fifty percent, the clothes she’d purchased at Charlene’s had not come inexpensively.
Wyatt’s head was cocked slightly as he looked at her. “Is that a problem? Dipping into your savings?”
She flushed and shook her head. Only her parents had ever been interested in whether or not she was putting money away in savings. Her dad, because he was a banker. Her mom, because she figured Sarah-Jane would never find a man to support her. Not that Sarah-Jane wanted a man to support her. She was an MBA, for heaven’s sake. She could support herself.
She realized that Wyatt was still waiting for an answer. “Not at all,” she said airily. What had she ever had money to spend on, anyway? Her only vice these days was rare yarn. “What about you?” She raised her eyebrows. “What kind of work do you do in Atlanta that you can afford to leave it in order to stay in Red Rock for a while?”
“It’ll be more than a while.” He took another bite of the apple and heat streaked through her.
Good Lord. She was getting turned on watching him eat an apple. She fumbled with one of the salad containers and wrenched it open, managing to spill out several pieces of lettuce on her lap in the process.
She quickly brushed them away, pushing them back in the bottom of her lunch bag.
“Missed one.”
She went still when Wyatt’s hand entered her vision and plucked the piece of iceberg off the pocket that was stitched right over her breast.
He hadn’t even touched her. Just the lettuce. But she still felt branded, anyway.
He flicked the lettuce off into the grass. One little bird hopped over curiously, poked around at it, then finally snatched it in his beak and flew away.
“To answer your question,” he went on as if the moment had never happened, “I’m hoping to buy property in Red Rock.”
Surprised, she shifted slightly, turning more toward him. “To live here?” For how long?
“Why not? Red Rock’s served my sister pretty well. She loves it here.” His lips tilted. “She’s probably scouting places as we speak.”
“But what about JMF?”
His gaze sharpened and her cheeks went hot all over again. “What do you know about JMF?”
Darn Felicity’s internet snooping, anyway. It had left Sarah-Jane with far too much background information that she ought to be coming by from the source. She shrugged casually. “Nothing. I just heard somewhere that’s where you worked.” She couldn’t help but notice the way his expression tightened, and she badly wanted to salvage the conversation. “Your father founded it or something, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” The word was clipped. He twisted off the stem of the apple and tossed it toward the birds before taking another bite.
Okay, so talking about that wasn’t the way toward salvaging anything.
“What, um, what sort of place are you interested in buying?” she asked quickly. He’d brought up the matter himself; surely it was a safe topic. “A house? A condo?” He didn’t seem interested in the salad—not that she could blame him—so she poked her fork into a chunk of tomato. “I’d like to buy a house someday.” She knew she was chattering, but plowed on, anyway. “That’s what the savings is all about. So I’ll have a decent down payment. Another six months—maybe a year—and I’ll probably start looking.”
“What about Felicity? Tired of having a roommate?”
“Not at all.” She realized the tomato was still on her fork and quickly popped it in her mouth, swallowing before continuing. “I love living with her. From the moment we met, she’s been my best friend. If I do buy, it’ll have to have room for her.”
“What if there’s a man in the picture?”
She shivered, and blamed it on the wind that had sprung up out of nowhere. “So far, Felicity’s boyfriends have come and gone.” Too many were more interested in a friends-with-benefits status than an actual commitment. “If that changes—when it changes—I’ll be happy for her, of course.”
“And you?”
“And me what?”
“What if there’s a man in the picture for you?” His deep voice was the soul of patience.
She was forgetting how to breathe again. But for once she didn’t shy away from his oh-so-direct gaze. “I guess I’ll have to wait and see, won’t I?”
He smiled slightly. Tilted his head just a little, as if acknowledging the point. “I guess we will.”
We.
She swallowed. Hard.
He seemed to take pity on her then, finishing his apple, before changing the subject entirely. “Getting windy out.” He looked up at the clouds skidding across the blue sky. “Wonder if we’ll get a storm out of this. Are you warm enough?”
“I’m fine.” She was more than warm enough, from the inside out, just from sitting so close to him. “I hope it rains at least. We could use the water. As long as we don’t have a repeat of the tornado that came through here last year.” She shuddered. “That was terrible. It struck right out at the airport and a few people died.”
“I know. My sister was caught in it.”
She nodded. “I remember. She’d been out here for Wendy’s wedding, right?”
He gave her a curious look. “Yeah.”
She smiled. “We hear everything sooner or later at The Stocking Stitch.”
“Then you probably know she was heading home to Atlanta. Trying to head home, anyway. There were a lot of family members at the airport that day. Fortunately, everyone who was injured has recovered.”
She laughed softly. “Or gotten married.”
Wyatt nodded wryly. “Or that. Where were you?”
“Miles and miles away. I was at my parents’ house in Houston for New Year’s.”
“But you didn’t go there this year, obviously.”
“They were traveling over the holidays.” She felt a grin slip out. “I’m hoping they do that every year.” She laughed softly and shook her head. “Isn’t that a terrible thing to say?”
“Not everyone gets along with their parents.”
She almost—almost—asked if he got along with his, but caught herself. She didn’t want to chance asking something so personal that he got that tight look around his eyes again. “Well,” she said instead, “holidays with my mother are an...experience.”
“You can’t just leave it there. You’ve got me curious, now.” He angled sideways and his knee brushed against hers. And stayed there.
What would she do if he ever touched her? Really touched her? Or really kissed her? Not on her cheek or her forehead or her knuckles.
Imagining it almost made her feel dizzy. “Curious about what?”
He smiled slowly. She felt almost certain that he knew the effect he had on her, and was using it deliberately. “What kind of experience is it spending holidays with your mother?”
She tried looking away from his eyes, but couldn’t seem to accomplish it. “Wh
ere to start,” she said faintly and with far more humor than she usually felt. “I think I told you before that I don’t have any brothers or sisters.” He nodded and she was glad he didn’t have to remind her that she’d been in her Savannah-mode when that conversation had taken place. “Anyway, I’m the daughter she never wanted. Too fat. Too klutzy.”
“You’re neither fat nor a klutz.” He leaned closer until his mouth was close to her ear. She had to physically hold herself still, or she might have melted into the park bench. “Sarah-Jane, trust me on this. Whether you can recognize it or not, you have a seriously rockin’ body.”
Then he sat back and, ignoring the stunned, mute way she was sitting there like a lump, opened the bag of birdseed and tossed a handful out into the grass. “So. Same time tomorrow?”
All she could do was nod.
Chapter Seven
Wyatt met Sarah-Jane at the park the next day as promised. This time, though, she beat him to their bench. Instead of the salad she’d brought the day before, she had a plastic-wrapped sandwich waiting for him. That, and a large, shining red apple.
He’d never before had reason to think an apple was erotic, but since the day before when she’d offered him one on the palm of her hand, he’d had to revise that particular opinion.
She’d asked if he’d wanted it.
Damn near all he could think when he was near her was want.
In honor of the weather that had remained cloudy and windy, albeit rainless, she wore blue jeans and a thick green sweater that reached all the way down her thighs and made her brown eyes take on yet another intriguing cast. “Fire your thief yet?” he greeted.
She angled her chin, but didn’t look away from him. “Not yet.” She picked up the sandwich that had been sitting beside her and gestured. “Your seat awaits.”
He grinned and sat.
“You’re missing out on considerably finer food at your hotel, you know.” She handed him the sandwich. “Probably just about anywhere else in town, for that matter.”
“If you want to go with me, we can go just about anywhere else in town.”
Her New Year's Fortune Page 10
