“Once upon a time I was a regular here. Like the rest of my family.” And now he wanted to shift emphasis. Fast. “There’s the kit.”
He nodded toward a shelf above a large, double sink and they walked to it. Collin pulled down the small metal box. Opening the lid he fished for disinfectant and band aids. This area of the church didn’t bother him nearly as much as the church proper, and with Daveny hurting, no way would he allow emotional responses to get in the way of helping her.
The air was refreshingly cool indoors, but a tempting drizzle of perspiration tracked down Daveny’s neck as he ministered to her cuts. The scent of her drifted against his senses, evoking a primitive, possessive response. She embodied spice and sweet florals, and Collin could all but taste the flavor of her, carried by those small beads of moisture that now disappeared beneath the neckline of her shirt. He stared, hard-pressed to keep steady.
“You know,” he began, “whenever I got hurt, my mom had a rule.”
“What's that?” She didn't conceal a grimace when he poured a bit of peroxide across the gash, then dabbed it dry with paper towel.
“Well, when I got hurt—and it wasn't because of torturing my siblings, which didn't happen very often anyway, since I was the baby and all—”
“Yeah?” She bit her lip while he finished cleaning the wound.
“I got a treat. My favorite ice cream.” Collin blew very lightly on the cut and looked into her eyes as he wound a band aid around her finger. “What's your favorite flavor?”
“Butterscotch,” she whispered, not blinking, her persona soft and beckoning, enchanting to him by sheer virtue of its brightness and appeal.
“Done. Under one condition.”
“Conditions? Hey, mister, I'm the injured party here, remember?” The words were playful, an attempt at humor, but they came out sounding husky and affected.
“Dinner's included. Would tomorrow night work?”
“I'd love it.” She surveyed the repair job he had performed on her finger then looked into his eyes once more, seeming shy—but grateful. “Thanks, Collin.”
All he could do was nod.
****
Daveny opened her front door and for a few precious pulse beats of time Collin simply stared.
Gorgeous.
Gone were grub clothes, the ponytail and baseball cap. Dirt debris and smudges were long gone as well, replaced by lightly made up skin and a perfume that reminded him of jasmine and vanilla. Large green eyes and her heart-shaped face were framed by a gently waved fall of dark brown hair that danced around her shoulders as she moved.
He wasn't accustomed to needs this potent.
“Uhm...” She stammered a bit shyly and blushed, gesturing toward the bouquet of gerbera daisies he carried. “Thank you. Those are lovely. Come on in for a second so I can put them in water.”
Collin followed her into her modest but beautifully maintained ranch house, still speechless and reeling. Finally, he managed a quietly heartfelt, “You look amazing.”
Daveny reached to open a cupboard that was a bit too high for her. His comment caused her to pause and blink, and afforded him the opportunity to be of help.
“Vases up here?” he asked, opening the door above her refrigerator.
“Yeah...”
He selected a tall one, rectangular in shape, and filled it with water while she unwrapped and trimmed the stems.
“You look pretty amazing yourself,” she finally replied, her voice soft, her eyes deflected.
A simple suit coat and tie were hardly what Collin would call dazzling, but Daveny's reaction was authentic and appreciated.
“Nice change of pace from old worn jeans and shirts, huh?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, giving a light chuckle.
She cast a few furtive glances his way, and Collin realized they both felt the intensity—the pull of a tender magnet. Something about the two of them being on a level field gave him comfort.
Still, she knocked him out.
Collin handed her the full vase and their fingertips brushed when she took custody and arranged the daisies. A mauve silk sheath shimmered as she moved, and from the knee on down he couldn't help savoring the vision of her bare, tanned legs, supple and smooth.
She finished with the flowers, and an impulse swelled, then took over. He couldn't resist touching her. He skimmed the back of his fingertips, light as a feather, down her sun-kissed arm. A slight tremble and the bloom of goose flesh were his reward as he took her hand and placed a kiss upon its back. She was satin and cashmere combined, and she tasted like a moonlit midnight.
“We ready?” he asked.
She nodded, her eyes luminous and seeking. “Let's go.”
6
“Collin, I love this place!”
He turned his pickup into the parking lot of Frank’s Trattoria, and it was packed.
“After our visit to The Java Hut, I could tell you enjoy waterfront dining.”
“Very true, but the food here, it's some of the best Italian I’ve ever had.”
“I know the owners. They're old family friends. Comes from living in The Shores for so long.”
A long, shady overhang surrounded the gray clapboard style restaurant. Hydrangea bushes in purples, pinks and whites surrounded the building’s exterior. To the rear, scrub grass and sandy beach met the silvery blue waters of Lake Saint Clair.
“Stay put. I’ll get your door.”
Chivalry. Once again Daveny was touched by the natural way he displayed attentiveness and a sense of caring that went beyond mere words and straight into deeds.
Collin took her hand and lent support while she stepped from the cab of the truck; then he kept a gentle, guiding touch at her back as they walked inside.
Frank’s Trattoria was a restaurant full of lovely, romantic atmosphere, and Daveny absorbed it with pleasure. Fine white linens adorned intimately positioned tables. On the tables and windowsills, votive candles burned in brightly hued crystal holders, casting flickering light across surfaces accented by deep blue stoneware and gleaming silver. Aromas tempted her appetite and senses—simmering tomato, sautéing meats, baking bread and coffee. Everything mingled perfectly with the sound of dish-chimes, soft music and low conversations.
They were led past an open set of French doors to a table located outside on a wooden deck that overlooked the water. The sun dipped low, preparing for its daily explosion of farewell across the far horizon. Though wide open, the space featured rails and columns that enclosed them, fostering an unexpected and welcome sense of affinity. They placed an order for mozzarella cheese sticks as an appetizer along with wine, and both were delivered promptly.
“There’s just one tiny flaw in this fantastic itinerary of yours, Collin.”
“What would that be?”
Daveny shrugged, all wide-eyed innocence. “No butterscotch ice cream.”
“Oh, but you underestimate me.” He pointed toward a space just over Daveny's shoulder; she turned in response. “Do you see that wooden kiosk over there?”
“Yes.”
“Ice cream vendor. I know from experience he carries butterscotch.”
She burst out laughing and turned back. “You win.”
“Maybe.” He smiled and toasted her with his wine goblet, which was half full of the house Chianti. She tinked her own against his in reply.
Dinner consisted of linguine in clam sauce, fragrant, fresh from the oven garlic bread. Daveny's favorite moment came when Michael, the head chef and owner, prepared a table-side Caesar salad for Collin and her to share.
Meanwhile, the sun sank below the horizon, burnishing the sparkling waters of Lake Saint Clair a deep gold, painting the sky pink, orange and a velvety pale blue.
“Why did you decide to go out with me, Daveny? I mean, aside from my medic-in–shining-armor episode, why did you say yes?”
His question was tentatively spoken and completely unexpected. Daveny paused in the midst of twirling a forkful of pasta. Desp
ite the temperate humor, Collin waited on her answer seeming puzzled somehow, as though he couldn’t quite figure out the wheres and whys. Daveny took a sip of wine, buying enough time to think her words through. “Well, beyond those supreme bandaging capabilities, I've seen that you're kind hearted. You're giving and genuine. What's not to like?”
In slow, steady measure they were moving forward, so she added, “I have to admit, I'm curious about your relationship to Woodland though.” Instantly his shoulders tensed, and he studied the swirl of wine in his goblet as he moved the stem between his fingers. Undaunted by the reaction, Daveny continued gently. “What happened, Collin? You're the only one in your family who doesn't attend services—yet you've been an incredible volunteer, and I get the feeling...”
“If only life were uncomplicated. Straight and easy,” he interrupted quietly.
“It's not.”
He looked Daveny square in the eye, and she nearly flinched at the pain she saw. “Most definitely. Maybe that's what draws me to you so strongly. I like the way you nurture. I like how free and idealistic you are. You bring environments to life; you know how to create beauty from the barren. Lay down roots and watch them bloom. That’s a remarkable gift.”
Daveny took in his comment, completely enchanted. Collin wasn’t flattering her on purpose. His genuine tone left her deeply affected.
“But what happened, Collin? Did something turn you away or hurt you?”
“I know it's asking a lot, but can you give me a little more time?”
Ripples of water sparkled like diamonds, lapping and hissing a constant rhythm against the nearby sand. Around them darkness drifted in and became a soft cloak, the lake fading to nothing more than the pulse beat of waves cut through by the silvery white glow of a half moon.
“Is it that bad?” Daveny gave him a playful look. Inwardly though she tensed, steeling against what he might reveal.
“It is to me, but finding a way to tell you, to explain...it's a struggle.”
“I've hit too close to home.”
“For now, yes.” But, as though as assurance, he tucked his fingertips beneath hers on the table and met her gaze directly. “I'm not trying to hide anything from you, but I am trying to reconcile the fact that you seem to be of one belief about God, and I come from somewhere totally different.”
That definitive statement left her heart aching. “But you didn't used to.”
White twinkle lights came on, illuminating the space with cozy warmth. The lights were wound along the rails, the columns and the potted shrubbery, casting a saffron glow across the deck.
Not sure how to proceed with the conversation, wondering whether she even should, Daveny watched a band set up on the nearby stage, preparing to play.
“Dance with me?” he queried.
She shook free of her distractions and looked into Collin's eyes. Sank into them. They were soft, warm and beautiful.
“I'd love to.”
He reached up to stroke her cheek then took hold of her hand. The simple gestures were more than enough to make her nerve endings sing. Her hand fit into his perfectly. The sensation of his skin sliding against hers did provocative things to her senses, warming her with longing as her heart performed a softly cushioned tumble.
They walked to the empty dance floor in front of the band's dais. Collin wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing the hand he held to rest against his chest. Jazz music turned into an alluring wash of sound that drew Daveny away from the fact that they were all alone on the floor and settled her instead into a world with Collin alone.
A soft hum of pleasure escaped her. It felt so good to be held close, to experience the solid strength of his arms. She looked up at Collin as they swayed together, moving in a slow, artful pattern. Collin rested her hand on his chest just long enough to slide his fingers through her hair, twisting an end softly around his fingers before releasing the strands. Daveny shivered with pleasure.
She tucked her head against his shoulder when he reclaimed her hand. She wanted to capture and isolate each one of the feelings he released, so she closed her eyes, savoring.
Daveny felt cherished and utterly content—as though her soul were melding into place with its perfect mate.
****
“Two single scoops of butterscotch coming right up.”
“Thank you,” Collin replied, paying for the treat.
Daveny claimed her cup and added spoons to both servings. “I didn't know your favorite was butterscotch, too.”
“Kind of spooky, isn't it?”
“A Twilight Zone moment.”
They meandered along the waterfront while they ate. Daveny went barefoot, her sandals dangling from a fingertip. The sand still felt warm beneath her feet, retaining the last of the day's heat. Occasionally she strayed just close enough to the breaking water to douse her feet.
“There's a bench up ahead. We can sit down to eat if you'd like.”
Daveny nodded in reply to Collin's offer, following his lead and sitting next to him. Lights rimmed the water to the left and right. A foghorn sounded periodically, its pitch low and mournful. They finished their ice cream in silence.
“I've really enjoyed this Collin. Thank you so much.”
“You're welcome.” He focused on the cup he held. “I've had a great time.”
“I want to thank you for something else, too.”
“What's that?” He looked at her, outwardly puzzled.
“Thank you for making me feel so special.”
He deferred his attention and shrugged, but Daveny intended to make her point. Collin set aside his ice cream cup, and she did likewise.
“You've found dozens of little ways to show that you care. That you're thoughtful. I want you to know I've noticed every gesture, and those actions tell me a lot about who you are.”
He shrugged again. “I didn't do anything out of the ordinary, Daveny.”
“You're right. It's part of who you are. You're wonderful, Collin.”
He leaned in and claimed her lips so quickly, with such breathless need, Daveny was swept away then pulled under before she could even blink. She sighed out an exclamation and the mingling of their breath created sweetness—longing.
She reached out, holding on to him, trying to ground herself amidst delicious, spinning desire—an onrushing wave of need that went far beyond the mere physical, for Collin reached out emotionally as well, wrapping himself around her heart and mind.
“Daveny,” he whispered at last, “you make me come so close to believing that statement.”
She held his face between her hands and searched his shadowed features beneath the milky white glow of the moon.
“Believe it, Collin,” she urged stridently. “Please. Believe it.”
7
Late Thursday morning, Daveny sat in her office and worked on freshly negotiated landscaping plans for a Grosse Pointe Woods home that skirted the shores of the Detroit River. Photos, documents and overview sheets covered the gleaming surface of her pride and joy—a Victorian style desk of maple, complete with a brass desk lamp, presently turned on to warm the area with needed light and emphasis. Outside, rain spattered against the window display of a world colored gray.
The stately, 1920’s masterpiece of pale cream stucco featured wide and deep grounds that sloped gently toward the river. That would be her canvas. Plans came to life in her mind, and she began to work in earnest, losing all track of time until the soft electronic chime of an e-mail delivery alert brought her back to reality.
“How brave are you?” Daveny puzzled aloud over the subject line as she clicked it open. It was from Collin.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: How brave are you?
Our conversation at dinner the other night left me thinking about your job—and gave me an idea. Since I’ve gotten to see you at work in your natural habitat, I’d like to return the favor. If you’re interes
ted, I’d love to have you talk to my English class about putting yourself into nature and making it come alive. You game? I’ll give you more details if you aren't scared off.
Collin
Daveny smiled to herself; she nibbled on her lower lip. If she breathed in just deeply enough, she experienced him in phantom, tasted his skin, felt his touch.
He was a special man; she only hoped he would find a way to reconcile himself to his faith and the spirit of God. Daveny couldn't imagine a relationship without that most vital component. So, despite a lurching fear of speaking in front of gatherings, she clicked on the reply toggle and began to type:
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: How brave are you?
I have to admit, I’m more than a little intimidated by your request, but if you let me know what you’re after, I guess I can somehow dissolve that big lump of fear in my throat and say yes.
Let me know the date and time. Call me. Hope you’re surviving the end of the school year…I'm looking forward to seeing you.
Daveny
Anticipation over seeing him again and pleasure at his continued connection stirred a sparkle against her nerve endings.
“Earth to Dav!”
Daveny jumped when Kiara made an abrupt motion in front of her eyes. The imp just grinned when Daveny glowered at her.
“Distracted?” she queried sweetly, batting her lashes in a coy way as she settled into the chair across from Daveny's desk. Kiara crossed her long legs, gracefully arranging her skirt. “Late night with the beau?”
Her words, though light and teasing, struck home. A floodgate released, a realization and recognition.
“Kiara,” Daveny replied in all seriousness, “I'm in trouble.”
Daveny's partner and the Jane-of-all-trades for Montgomery Landscaping waited attentively while Daveny nipped at a thumb nail. At length, Kiara prompted, “What's wrong?”
Hearts Crossing (Woodland) Page 4
