He reached for it. “My pleasure.”
She let go and stepped back.
His eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Have a good night,” he said then disappeared down the steps, swallowed up by the rain.
* * * *
The next morning, Kate awoke to an empty apartment. With Reagan gone, the place felt strange. Too quiet. Too depressing. Kate needed activity, and housework wasn’t going to cut it. Not today. She left her house, locked the front door and pocketed the borrowed key.
Sunshine glittered off blades of grass washed clean from last night’s storm. There was a fresh smell to the air, a crispness to start the day. Swinging her arms and drinking in the morning air, Kate headed toward Elm Street School where she had gone to elementary school. She walked briskly down the street, past the chain link fence and cracked blacktop of the old schoolyard.
Wasn’t it ironic that Rea would start school here in the fall? Life certainly played peculiar tricks on those living it.
Shrugging off the notion and determined not to dwell in her melancholy thoughts from last night, Kate kept on walking.
Main Street in downtown Eagleton was empty at seven o’clock on Saturday morning. She strode past the Smoothie Scoop, a popular hangout located in the corner of one of the turn-of-the-twentieth-century buildings. Down the street was the Rosemont Bed and Breakfast where Jerry’s parents had stayed for the wedding.
No! I’ll not think about him today!
But the anger that ever bubbled near the surface was hard to deal with. She walked faster, turned the corner, and started back up the hill on Maple Street. She passed Dr. Sullivan’s house on the corner where the vet lived with her famous cowboy husband. Then Kate turned down First toward Elm and home.
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Scott stood at the corner of First and Elm. He was dressed in running shoes, mesh shorts over longer, tight Spandex shorts and a charcoal and blue sleeveless running shirt. She noticed other things about him besides his clothes, like how defined his arm muscles were and how thick his thighs. She guessed he worked out. Probably jogged a lot, too.
He pulled up one foot, holding it behind him, bending his other knee and balancing stork-like for thirty seconds. Then he switched legs, stretching the opposite thigh in the same manner. Finally, he grasped the small of his back and tilted backward, giving her a particular tasty silhouette view of the bulge hidden by those running shorts.
O…M…G!
Swallowing hard, she walked forward, trying to smother the self-conscious fire that warmed her face, embarrassed to be ogling her onetime sweetheart. All that was dead and buried. As dead as her marriage…and her heart.
He turned and saw her coming toward him. Rolls of sweat dripped down his face, and his chest heaved. When she approached, he lifted his hand in a silent hello. He smelled of the outdoors, all athletic and very male. Jerry would never have smelled like that. She doubted he’d ever sweated a day in his life.
“Did you have a good run?” she asked to break the silence.
“Yes,” he huffed. “It’s great exercise.”
He fell into step beside her as she walked toward the duplex.
“You said something last night about my broken key being your problem,” Kate said. “I was wondering what you meant.”
His bare arm brushed hers. “I own the duplex.”
Now, she was floored. “You do?”
“Yes. Didn’t Mrs. Carson tell you that?”
“No, she dealt mainly with my father.” Kate paused, and Scott stopped, too. She gazed up at him. “I wasn’t in any condition to make decisions two months ago.”
“What about now?” He searched her face.
“It’s getting better.” She shrugged and walked on.
“I hear it takes time. Divorce.”
“That’s what the family therapist said,” Kate revealed. “She said it was a process.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Now, Kate was curious. “You’ve never married?”
“Never found the time,” he admitted. “Or the girl.” A strange yearning flared in his eyes.
“Oh.” Had she broken his heart? Was that why he’d never found anyone? Kate didn’t want to think about the implications of what had happened so long ago. She knew now how a broken heart felt, and it wasn’t fun.
They’d reached the parking spots in front of the duplex. She and Scott stopped and surveyed the tan vinyl siding clad house with its two, identical pitched roofs, wide front windows and covered porches with white railings. “How did you end up owning this duplex?”
“This was where my grandmother lived. Remember?”
Kate nodded. Yes, she remembered now. Oddly, she hadn’t realized it when she'd returned, because she’d been so absorbed in her own problems.
“When Gran died, I inherited the property. The house itself was falling apart, so I demolished it and built this duplex. The neighbors were pleased that I kept the character of the neighborhood intact with the design.”
The house did fit in nicely with the others in the area. “You did a good job,” Kate told him.
“Thanks.”
He was looking at her again with those blue eyes she remembered. What did he see? Kate didn’t want to speculate. She just wanted to break the spell he cast over her, because she was afraid he might see into her soul.
And she wasn’t sure what he’d find there.
“Well, I’d better go inside. I’ve got a ton of laundry and housework to do.”
“I should shower.”
Kate shifted from one foot to the other as the image of Scott in the shower flashed through her head. She offered him a half-hearted smile. “Thanks for coming to my rescue last night.”
“No problem.”
She took a step toward her section of the duplex, but a mysterious thread bound her feet so she could hardly move away from him.
“How about repaying my handyman job?” he asked.
“Excuse me?” Kate turned back quickly and caught the gleam in his eyes. His sweaty face and growth of beard gave him a sexy quality that made the tips of her fingers tingle.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
“What?” Was he kidding?
“There’s a new place outside of town that I’ve wanted to try. I don’t want to go alone.”
“I can’t have dinner with you.” The words slipped out of Kate’s mouth before she could catch them.
He didn’t seem offended but stood his ground. “Why not?”
She started to say she was married. But she wasn’t. A sharp pain ripped through her heart. Lowering her gaze, she stared at her sport shoes. “They say you shouldn’t get involved with anyone for two years after a divorce.”
His eyebrows lifted. He seemed amused. “Who are ‘they’?”
Her gaze flew back to his face. “Therapists.”
“Dinner is not involvement. It’s just dinner.”
She continued to stare at him, panic seizing her brain so she couldn’t think.
“Unless you’re scared,” he challenged.
Of course, she was scared. She hadn’t dated in ten years. She hadn’t even thought about dating. And going to dinner with a man like Scott was a date.
“Unless you’re scared,” he said a little softer, “…of me.”
Kate wanted to tell him she was scared shitless—of him, of her, of the whole miserable situation.
“I’m not scared of you,” she said, unsure the meek voice was her own. “Why should I be?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You weren’t scared when you broke up with me. If I remember correctly, you told me quite bluntly exactly where to go.”
She shifted her feet. God, she’d treated him like shit back then, hadn’t she? “Can we not get into that? It’s water over the dam.”
“It is,” he acknowledged.
He waited. Damn Jerry anyway for putting her in this place. She had tried to be a good wife. She didn’t deserve
to be treated like a piece of shit any more than Scott had deserved it years ago. She forced herself to fight her raw emotions—fear, anger and her own broken heart.
“I’ll go,” she announced with a nod of determination.
“That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up at six.”
She winced. “Okay,” Kate stammered.
“And you can wear something casual. Nothing fancy here.”
He left her then and strode toward the porch on his side of the house. Was he whistling? Did he consider this a date?
Good grief, what had she done?
Chapter Three
Kate wrapped a white towel around her wet hair, grabbed another towel from the rack and stepped out of the shower. She dried her arms first then her upper body, passing the towel under her breasts with the precision of a perfectionist.
The fog in her brain was as thick as the steam in the master bath. On the other side of the wall separating her duplex from Scott’s, she thought she heard water running. Was he cleaning up after his run? From her quick look at the layout of his living room last night, Kate surmised their apartments mirrored each other. That meant his shower stall and hers were only drywall and a few tile squares apart.
The image of Scott Gray naked with a steady stream of hot water sluicing over his body forced a heated blush to her cheeks. My gosh. What was up with this new fascination with the physique of a man she’d dumped so easily in college?
Was she that horny? That hard up?
It was embarrassing.
Drying the rest of her torso, Kate tried to reject the attraction that had awakened—on her part at least. After all, why invite another rejection at a time when she was so vulnerable? Jerry had divorced her for no apparent reason. Midlife crisis was all that her girlfriends could come up with. Yet that old cliché didn’t satisfy her. Jerry had been her husband. He had pledged to honor and cherish her until death. She’d loved and trusted him. She’d devoted her youth to him. Created a home for him and bore his only child.
Why hadn’t she been good enough for him to keep?
Maybe, Jerry’s leaving her had been all her fault, regardless of what her friends had said. Maybe, she should have tried harder. Done more. Or maybe, there was something that invited abandonment. Maybe, that was why her mother had left her and her father when Kate was only six. Was that why Jerry had dumped her, too?
She felt the sting of tears welling in her eyes and angrily swiped them away. But she couldn’t escape the feeling she didn’t measure up. Wasn’t good enough. That was only the repressed emotions of her inner child. She knew it now, after months of group therapy. Yet, the core belief was hard to shake, especially when it was rooted so deep in her soul that it had become a part of her being.
Kate sighed and squirted vanilla lotion onto her thigh, slathering the white cream up and down one shaven leg then the other. She rubbed lotion on both arms and her flat belly with its C-section scar across the bikini line, just above her pubic hair.
Unwrapping the towel from her hair, Kate shook out the long, blonde strands. She wasn’t in the mood to primp and fuss over her appearance. What did it matter? There was work to be done to straighten up this apartment and make it a suitable home for Reagan. That was more important than polishing her toenails and touching up her fingernails.
Casting aside her thoughts of Scott and their impending dinner, Kate ran a comb through her hair and left it to dry on its own. She dressed in shorts and t-shirt then got to work unpacking boxes in the third bedroom where she planned to set up an office.
* * * *
Kate ended up polishing her toenails after all. And she redid her fingernails then spent an hour fussing over makeup and hair.
Good grief. You’d think I’d never been on a date.
After standing for five minutes inside her walk-in closet staring at her clothes, Kate finally picked out a sleeveless maxi dress with a gray-blue paisley print and a nice A-line silhouette. She’d seen how Scott had looked at her legs last night and this morning so she was being careful. The long dress would give her maximum coverage but still be cool and flowing.
“You look lovely,” Scott said when she answered the door.
That brought a blush to her cheeks. Kate dropped her gaze, her stomach churning. This was so weird.
“Thank you,” she said. “Would you like to come in?”
“No, I’ll take a rain check,” he answered, playing on their earlier conversation. “My chariot awaits us.” Scott stepped aside and swept his hand to indicate a red Acura TL parked on his side of the parking space.
“Oh! Is it new?” Kate’s attention was diverted from the awkwardness of the situation to the vehicle.
“Yes, it is.” There was a proud note in Scott’s voice. “I picked it up today. It’s been on order for a few weeks.”
Kate pulled her door shut, locking it, and stepped out onto the porch and then the gravel parking area. “It’s beautiful!” She walked up to the car with Scott. “I love the color.”
“Basque Red Pearl they call it in the brochure,” he told her, running a finger over the shiny finish of the fender. He opened the passenger door.
Kate turned and sat, settling into the ebony-leather bucket seat and, like a proper lady, swung her legs into the sedan. She arranged her skirts.
“It smells like a new car.” She inhaled with appreciation as he slid into his seat and started the engine.
“It should.”
Scott spent the short drive through town talking about the car’s 3.7-liter V-6 engine, 6-speed automatic transmission, rearview camera, and surround sound system. Typical guy. Jerry had been into all those things, too, but all Kate could comment on were the pretty colors and the quiet ride.
“I’m boring you,” Scott said, turning to glance her way.
“Oh, no, not at all!” she lied.
“You’re still not very good at hiding your feelings.” Scott turned back to the road, a slight smile on his lips.
How was she supposed to take that comment? Kate decided to ignore it. She searched for something to say and finally settled on the obvious.
“Where are we going to dinner? You said it’s someplace new.”
He glanced at her again. “Do you remember Mandy Sullivan and Judd Romeo?”
“Yes, didn’t Mandy marry a rodeo cowboy?"
“Professional bull rider,” Scott agreed with a nod. “They got married several years ago, and bought a four-hundred-acre tobacco farm where Judd also raises bucking bulls. But because of the decrease in burley tobacco quotas, Judd turned the bulk of the land that isn’t in pastures into a vineyard. He recently opened a restaurant.”
“He’s been busy.”
“And successful.”
Kate’s thoughts turned inward. Successful. Not like me. She didn’t have anything to show for her past ten years except for a beautiful eight-year-old daughter. She had no other successes, no other accomplishments, nothing that she could call her own.
Swallowing the self-pity, Kate stared out the window. The Kentucky countryside was beautiful in June. Not too hot. The bluegrass was green and the fences white-washed or painted black creosote. Against the rolling pastures, silhouettes of horses grazed in the distance.
The entrance to the Eagle Bend Winery paralleled the main highway to Lexington. A gravel road segmented vineyards on each side, leading to a log cabin that sat on the rise of a hill and was surrounded by trees. The cabin was a combination wine-tasting room and gift shop with the restaurant in the rear. The hostess showed them to a table near a window. She introduced herself as Marisa Bass, Mandy’s sister, and told them, when they asked, that neither Judd nor Mandy worked at the restaurant. She ran the restaurant for them.
“Judd earned a lot of money riding bulls,” Scott commented, opening his menu. “You’ve got to admire him. He hasn’t wasted it but built something here to be proud of.”
Kate surveyed her menu. “And what do you do, Scott? For a living?”
Small Talk 101:
direct conversation to your partner. And away from anything personal, Kate thought.
“I own a security company.”
“Like locks and home security systems?” That would explain his handyman work last night.
“No, computer security. I consult on firewalls, antivirus software, IDS/IPS systems, and even get into helping my clients write policies and standards to meet government and state regulations.”
Kate felt her eyes glaze over. “Sounds interesting.”
Scott laughed and took a sip of ice water. He set the glass down before answering. “I think it is. And the economy hasn’t hurt my business. I have no store front or employees, so that helps keep down the overhead.”
“Where do you do this work?”
“All over the country. It keeps me busy and away from home much of the time. But I’m lucky to be able to work online from my upstairs office.”
“That’s why the Wi-Fi in the house is so strong,” Kate commented with understanding.
A teenage waitress arrived to take their orders, recommending the French onion soup as a starter. They took her up on the suggestion, and placed their orders, picking out suitable wines for their meal selections. Several minutes later, an older woman served Scott a Cabernet Sauvignon and Kate a Pinot Grigio, then the young waitress brought their soup.
Scott watched Kate dip her spoon into the Gruyère cheese that covered the heavy crockery bowl. The chewy cheese pulled out in a long string when she put the spoon to her lips. Kate was forced to nip it with her fingertips then dabbed her mouth with a napkin. Her face reddened. She was embarrassed. That intrigued Scott. She wasn’t nearly as sophisticated as he thought she’d be given her marriage and maturity.
He gave her a little time to recover then said, “I heard you have a child.”
She dipped her spoon again, this time through a hole in the cheese and brought out caramelized onions and broth. Swallowing the bite, she gazed at him before answering, “Yes, a daughter. Reagan is eight.”
“Interesting name for a girl.”
Kate tipped her head, conceding his observation. “She’s named for the president.”
“Your idea or your husband’s?”
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