“How’s that working out for you? Thinking positive, I mean.”
She laughed at his cocked brow. He was so handsome in a rugged mountain man way. Unruly hair, a shadow of whiskers by noon, and clothes marred with work. “I’ll be honest. It’s damn hard. I’d be better off keeping busy. You know? Moving forward.”
“I know exactly what you mean. I’m not much for sitting around, thinking, myself.” He returned her smile and warmth seemed to stream out of her core and into every nerve of her body.
Instantly, she felt the pull toward him. Keep it friendly, Darcy, a voice in her head shouted. She dropped her gaze at the dolls he carried in the crook of his arm. “Are those for your girls?”
“Yeah. My nieces.”
His cheeks turned crimson which she thought was so cute.
Darcy. She mentally stamped her foot and dropped her gaze to the floor. Stop it. You can’t think he’s adorable. Damn, adorable and cute.
“Right, your nieces. Tom told me about them last night.”
“You asked about Tom about me?”
Had she seen hope in his eyes? “You told me you had to get home to the girls. I thought you were talking about your wife and daughters and I repeated that to Tom. He set me straight right away.” Should she tell him Tom had this ridiculous notion they might be perfect for each other? Standing there, staring into his eyes, she was beginning to think Tom was right.
No. Dylan would think she was nuts. Guys didn’t think that way. And she didn’t want Dylan thinking she was flaky.
“So what else did Tom tell you about us?”
“That you were taking care of your nieces while your brother and his wife were overseas. That’s very nice of you, by the way. Most men wouldn’t consider taking care of a pair of little girls for a day, much less an extended period of time. It’s very admirable of you.”
It was his turned to drop his gaze and she wondered if he knew how sexy he looked while flushing with embarrassment. “Thank you.”
“I saw your paintings in the dining room,” she said, pulling her thoughts in another direction.
“You did?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were an artist? They’re wonderful. It’s comforting to look at them. Have you ever had a showing?”
“No. Not exactly. Allison Moyer, the head librarian at the library displays a few during harvest week and a shop down the street also sells a few on consignment.”
“Really? Which shop? I’d love to see them.”
“It’s Wanda’s Country Collections and Jams. If you’d like, I could show them to you.”
“I don’t want to take you away from your shopping.”
He held the dolls out. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing. I have no clue if the girls would like these or not. What do you think?”
“I ah—”
“You’re a girl. I wanted trucks and guns from Santa.”
“Santa, right. Well…” She took one doll from him and read the box. Decades had passed since she put her dolls away and she didn’t know Dylan’s nieces, but he looked so lost, she had to help him out. “How old are the girls?”
“Jillian is smart seven and Katy is quick five.”
“Smart and quick. Hmmm.” The dolls looked like real babies, with eyelids that opened and fell over sparkling glass blue eyes, and black lashes a hooker would be proud of. One doll had a mop of blonde curls and the other hoisted longer brunette locks. Their tiny mouths were pink bows. The box said they drank and peed just like real babies and they even cried and cooed. The dolls would give the girls something to care for while their parents were overseas. “I think they’re adorable and spot-on for your nieces’ ages. I had similar dolls at their age. I think there are cradles and highchairs and strollers that go with them. You could spend a small fortune with accessories.”
A grin bloomed on his face, making her heart light. She’d said the right thing.
“Would you mind helping me pick out a few other things for the girls? It really would help me out. Unless you have to be somewhere.”
“No.” She shook her head, anxious for the opportunity to spend time with him. “Tom said I should call when I want him to pick me up.”
“He dropped you off here?”
“Yeah. My car is thawing out in his garage. I guess I didn’t have enough antifreeze in it. I’m a chef, not an auto mechanic and apparently the guy who checked the level for me isn’t one either.”
“You don’t want to hang out with him? Tom, I mean. Not the mechanic.”
“I didn’t want to hang out at the Grist Mill. I could’ve stayed and worked beside Tom. We always had a great time while working together, and normally I really wouldn’t mind, but I knew working in that atmosphere would bring up memories of…” Damn. Just that quick her throat clogged with emotion.
Dylan tucked the doll he held under an under arm and pulled her into the crook of his other arm and squeezed. “I get it. My mom always said things happen for a reason, which confused me as I got older and wiser, because she’s what most people refer to as a free spirit and she believes in free will.”
Darcy laughed, relishing his strength surrounding her. He was a stranger and he was comforting her which was so darn sweet. The mixture of his musky-and-fresh-air scent filled her nostrils and immediately all thoughts of Sweet Grass were gone in a poof.
She turned her face up to him and the impact of his magnetism almost buckled her knees. In fact, if he weren’t holding onto her, she probably would’ve slumped to the floor like a paper doll.
Their breaths mingled. His concerned expression turned fervent. Her interest in him reflected back at her in his rich eyes. Slowly his gaze dropped to her lips.
Her stomach quivered. Was he going to kiss her? She rose up on her toes and was just about to close her eyes when Dylan swallowed, dropped his arm from her shoulders and stepped back.
“I ah... It must be hard losing everything,” he said.
“Yes. Yes it is,” she said, clearing her throat. What the hell happened? He was going to kiss her. She wasn’t that naive. She had her share of first kisses. He was about to kiss her good and damn if she didn’t want him to. She wrapped her arms around the boxed doll, hoping to conceal her pounding heart. “So what else were you thinking about buying the girls?”
“Look.” His attention drew over her shoulder and he side-stepped. “Maybe this...” He pointed between them. “…isn’t such a good idea after all.” He’d lowered his voice.
“Why?”
“Excuse me.”
Darcy jumped not realizing a woman entered the section of the store and they blocked the main aisle. The older woman weighed next to nothing, even with her knee-high boots, calf-length camel-hair coat and woolen cap with a fuzzy on top the size of a navel orange and just as bright. She hadn’t set off the creak of the wooden floor planks.
“Good morning, Dylan,” she said with a cheery smile. “Shopping for the girls?”
“Yes, Mrs. Farber.”
“Glad to see you have some help. Everyone needs a little help. And a nice young man like yourself should not be alone. You best get her some warmer boots or her toes are going to freeze. You don’t want to be sick for the holidays. That’s no fun. And the holidays should be fun.” Hazel eyes met Darcy’s. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, I do.”
The woman smiled and then gave Dylan a brazen wink before moving further into the toy department.
Dylan grabbed Darcy’s elbow and steered her back into the side aisle. Once they were tucked into a corner and he’d glanced over his shoulder, apparently checking no one was nearby, before he looked down at her with sad puppy-dog eyes. “Look,” he said with his free hand out as if he were holding her off. “Tom is my friend.”
“I know that.”
“What I mean, I’m not the kind of guy who makes a move on a friend’s girlfriend.”
Darcy snorted. “You think Tom and I are…”
Mrs. Farber, holdin
g a toy tommy-gun, peeked around the corner of the aisle, winked again and then slowly drew back out of sight.
“Tom and I are not friends.” She made air quote marks with her free hand. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
“You’re not?” He crossed his fingers.
“No. Why would you think we were…” She scrunched her nose. “Involved?”
His face brightened. “I don’t know. The way Tom talked about you. How happy you both were to see each other. The way he hugged you last night when you walked in. You’re staying at his house.” He lifted a finger with each point.
She stuffed her fist on her hip. “If we were lovers, don’t you think he would’ve kissed me like one?”
Dylan’s eyes widened, obviously recalling that Tom had not kissed her like a lover would, especially one who hadn’t seen her in a year. “He didn’t, did he?”
She trapped her chuckle by biting her lip and shook her head. “No. He didn’t.”
“This is a good thing.” Dylan grinned.
“So, now that I know you’re not married and you know Tom and I are not Tom and I, why don’t we look for those gifts for the girls? And maybe later, we’ll talk about what almost happened here.”
He bent his head closer to hers. “Are you sure you mean talk?” His voice dropped to a sexy timbre.
Ah man, the guy was making her insides turn into warm jelly. “You are too cute.”
His warm breath caressed her ear. “I think I’m in trouble.”
She turned her head and smiled. “You might be.” She drew back and raised her brows. “But before this—” She used his move of waggling a finger between them. “Goes any further, let’s get the shopping out of the way.”
“Okay.” He ran his tongue across his lips, which again, caused Darcy’s pulse to quicken. Dylan extended an arm for her to pass by. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” She turned on her heel and he nearly ran into her. She stepped back away from his heat and tilted her head to look up at him. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll help you and you help me.”
His expression turned devilish. “With?”
She held up the package of long underwear. “Pick something out for Tom. I don’t think he’s really a plaid kind of guy.”
He chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but no, those do not strike me as Tom. Well they do. Tom always reminded me of Curly of the Three Stooges.”
“Oh, my God. Me too.”
“Do you remember the show where they went golfing?” He chuckled. “Curly wore plaid pants and a ridiculous cap with this huge ball on top.”
“Maybe they do fit him. I’m keeping them. He’ll wonder what I’m laughing at when he opens them. Of course, I’ll tell him. He’ll get a kick out of it. He’s a good guy that way. But, I want to get him something nice too. He’s a great friend and I want him to know I appreciate him and all the time he spent listening to me over the last week.”
Dylan nodded his understanding. “Okay, let’s look around.” He grabbed her hand. “One more thing.”
“What?” She asked, looking up into twinkling eyes.
“Will you let me buy you lunch?” His thumb brushed her skin, sending tingles up her arm.
“Only if you give me a ride home later?” She smiled shyly.
“Deal.”
Mrs. Farber passed by them and winked.
They both looked at the fuzzy ball on her beanie and broke out in laughter.
Chapter Five
Inside Armell’s Country Kitchen, while a dozen townspeople did nothing to hide their interest in them, Dylan sat across the solid oak table from Darcy, spilling his life’s story. Well, at least, the story of his life over the past four months, since Bob and Elizabeth left on assignment. Why? Because she had asked. Simple as that.
“That must have been hard on the girls, watching their parents get on a plane without them, not knowing when they’d be home again.”
Her hand covered her heart, which caused his own heart to have a sappy reaction. Usually if a woman he was with touched her breast in any manner, his thoughts went south of his belt. But Darcy’s reaction to his nieces’ feelings kept his mind focused on her.
He dug into the steaming bowl of spicy chili, swallowed a spoonful and then swiped a paper napkin across his mouth. “They were little soldiers, actually. Heads held high. Stiff upper lips. I thought I was the wimp, until later.”
“What happened later?” She broke off a bit of homemade raisin bread and popped the morsel into her mouth.
He could watch her eat for hours on end. She had this sexy way of pursing her lips and blowing across her hot turkey rice soup and then letting her lips linger on the spoon a second longer than necessary—suggestively. He shifted on his seat. How he longed to feel those lips on him.
Putting his erotic thoughts aside, Dylan dropped his napkin on the table next to his silverware. “They were fine. Or so I thought. They didn’t say much the rest of the day and during dinner, but when I went to tuck them in that night, the flood gates opened. Katy broke first— when I started to walk out of the room— and then Jillian started to cry as I was trying to comfort her sister.”
“Oh, no.” Darcy’s brow pulled together and worry darkened her eyes to a deep forest green, matching her sweater.
He wanted to reach across the table and take her hand, but her right hand firmly held her spoon and the left lay in her lap.
“I was beside myself, to be honest. I had two little girls crying their eyes red until they looked like dwarf-sized demons and I had no idea how to get them to calm down. The pain they felt was something I never had to handle.” He stared down at the kidney beans and chunks of hamburger, suddenly not feeling a bit hungry.
Darcy leaned forward and tilted her head slightly, watching him. “What did you do?”
He slumped against the back of his captain chair, propped his elbows on the arm rests, and cleared his throat. “I held them,” he said without a twinge of embarrassment. “I fell asleep holding them and didn’t wake until the sun hit me in the face the next morning. After that, we sort of fell into a routine.”
“Ah. That’s so sweet. You’re a kind man, Dylan.”
He dropped his gaze, knowing heat colored his cheeks above his noon shadow of whiskers. “I did what anyone would do.”
“A woman maybe, but a man. Not all. Most men would’ve told them to suck it up in not so nice terms and closed the door, leaving them to cry themselves to sleep.”
He saw her jaw tighten as she stabbed her spoon into her soup. “It sounds like you have firsthand experience.
The muscles of Darcy’s neck above her pale scarf constricted and relaxed. “Not me. My brother, Jacob’s, children. He and his wife, Rebecca, have two boys and a girl, ages eight, ten and thirteen. They live in Atlanta, so I don’t get to see the kids as much as I’d like.” She tapped her spoon on the side of the bowl and placed it on the saucer underneath. “Jacob is not a nurturing man. He takes after my father, or so I’m told. My father died in a private plane crash while traveling home from a business trip. He was the pilot. I was three when it happened.”
Dylan’s jaw dropped. He never knew someone who had lost a parent that way. “I’m sorry.”
She gave him a weak smile. “I have very faint recollections of my father and I’m sure the memories have been embellished by what I’ve overheard over the years.”
Armell walked up to the table, carrying a coffee pot, breaking the tense moment. “Can I freshen up your coffee again, Mr. Kincaid? Miss?”
“Witherspoon,” Darcy replied with a smile.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Witherspoon.”
“Okay. Now you know her name, Armell. She’s an old friend of Tom Angleman’s. I’m showing her around town while Tom is at work. The coffee?” Dylan said loud enough for everyone to hear, holding out his cup.
“Good to know who is who,” The dinette owner stated with amusement glistening in her eyes. “Don’t you think?
”
“Your soup is delicious,” Darcy said.
Armell thanked Darcy with a smile while topping off her coffee. “By the way, Dylan. I was wondering if you were going to take Bob’s place and act as our Sunday-school Santa and hand out the Christmas gifts? You know Bob has his own suit. I’m sure if you ask him or Lizzy, they’ll tell you where he has it stored.” She dropped their bill on the table and slid it toward him.
How did Bob do all he did? Dylan thought. Husband, father, sitting on the town council, volunteering at the church—he couldn’t let the town down in Bob’s absence. “I can do that. I’ll be there with the girls anyway. Thanks for asking me.” He added finding the Santa suit to his list of things to do.
“I knew we could count on you like we count on Bob.” She headed off toward the other customers with a prance in her step, probably to check if they all heard what had been said.
“The locals are curious,” Darcy smiled over her cup at him. “I take it you don’t bring many women here for lunch.”
“No. Nor dinner.” He sat his cup down, propped an arm on the table, and refocused on the woman across from him. “So where were we? How about your mother? What is she like?”
“Mom is like me. Easy going. She remarried when I was in my freshman year of college, to a nice guy. They in the South of France.” She drew in a breath. “Jacob doesn’t like our step-father, but it’s Mom who has to, right?”
“I’d say so.”
“Jacob’s a high power corporate attorney who is a total dual master.”
“A what?” He’d never heard the term.
“A dual master. It’s term my aunt used for someone who multi-tasks. With Jacob, every meal has an agenda. Every second of his day serves two purposes, one being him.”
It sounded like Darcy didn’t have much respect for her brother and from her comment last night her sister-in-law wasn’t high on her list either. “How does your sister-in-law feel about that? Wait. I’m sorry. That’s prying. It’s none of my business.”
“No.” She shook her head. Her hair cascading over her shoulders shimmered in the afternoon sunlight.
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