“Sounds as though she’s setting up a place to meet, doesn’t it? A clue.”
Wine? Half past ten? The puzzle pieces snapped together. “Has Lizzie examined the wine cellar?”
“The wine—” Her head came up, eyes wide. “Maybe something’s hidden there?”
“The only way to know for certain is—”
She snagged his arm, grin sliding from cheek to cheek. “Wanna join us tomorrow? Who knows what might be down there.”
Close quarters? Dark spaces? With Eisley? Sounded like a dream come true. His hope collapsed. “I must leave for London tomorrow morning for my audition.” He covered her hand with his. “Might I take a rain check for when I return, friend?”
“The more help we have, the more info we’re bound to find for Uncle Joe.” Her shoulders lifted in an excited scrunch. “Oh my goodness, I’m tingling with the possibilities.”
Possibilities? His thoughts exactly.
Chapter Eight
Eisley grabbed her Bible and made the same tiptoeing route to the kitchen she took the day before, careful to keep her clumsy feet from stirring the monster-creak on the steps. She pressed against the wall, gaze fixed on the closed bedroom doors, and eased down, step by step. Success. Hopefully, Wes would stay sound asleep while she grabbed a coffee, read some Scripture, and tried to wrap her mind around these new interlocking pieces of Julia’s story. She didn’t have time to fantasize about actors and nonsense. Besides, her bedazzled response to a movie star was perfectly natural. She was simply star-struck.
Right?
Her mind spun back to dinner with Wes and his parents the night before, skipping through to their family game of charades that followed, like a scene from some Hallmark movie. His boy-next-door appeal slung feel-good vibes like Spidey’s webs, tangling her words and thoughts. She craved his easy friendship, even felt a weird kinship to him as if she’d known him for a long time—and not from a film either.
She’d slipped into friend mode with a scary ease yesterday, trusting him with her history, asking him to help her solve the mystery. Haphazard choices reminiscent of her past. She needed him to stay safely in the fictional realm, among the two-dimensional heroes littering her DVD case at home, but he kept emerging as a real-life good guy. Someone her family would love. Someone she could snuggle up by the fire with and…
Good grief, as if...
Her quick call to Uncle Joe, relaying her meeting with Lizzie, was a reward in its own right and firmed another solid hold on her purpose. She could practically see his hazel eyes sparkle with interest as he sat in his recliner and slid his thumb across his chestnut moustache. His voice sounded strong. Alive. No hint of the poison eating away at his body, but it reminded her why she’d come. Her goal did not involve Wes Harrison.
She rounded the corner to the kitchen. Time to give cute distractions a nice swift kick in the—Her feet tripped to a stop and her brain stuttered three seconds behind.
Wes sat at the table reading the newspaper. His black hair stood in adorably confused directions, his lazy green t-shirt hung around his baggy blue sweatpants, and his bare feet stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. A blitz of pure awareness quaked her body like an eight on the Richter scale. Oh…bare feet and that smile. Kryptonite to her suddenly unguarded heart.
“Well, good morning.” Wes glanced up, those practically-perfect-in-every-way lips arching with a heart-stopping welcome.
God? This is not funny.
“Did you rest well?”
Eisley stayed by the doorway, fidgeting with the sleeve of her shirt and desperately searching for another grown-up in the room. The blistering warmth coursing through her veins might need a chaperone to ensure safety of all those involved.
She cleared her throat. “I had a lot on my mind.”
“Adventure, no doubt?”
She hoped she smiled, maybe, but her body wasn’t listening to her brain very well. She gripped the back of the wooden chair for support. “Definitely.”
Wes stood and walked over to the counter to retrieve two pieces of toast. “Care to read devotions with me?
She squeezed the chair until her knuckles went numb. The smile she clenched tight dropped into a gaping ‘oh’. An absolutely gorgeous, barefoot, British man reading the Bible? Lord, isn’t there something about not being tempted beyond what one can stand? Her knees protested. Maybe she should sit.
She slid down into the chair. “You…you’re reading the Bible?”
One side of his mouth twitched as he nabbed a jar from the refrigerator. “Actually, I pray too.”
She shook her head and groaned. “I didn’t mean—”
He set the jar on the table, leaned close, and all his wonderful scent made a mad dash for her weak senses. Cowboy cologne, all spice and leather.
“I’m a firm believer in miracles, pet. Even for someone with a reprehensible past such as mine.”
Eisley caught herself swaying into the scent, into the endearing look on his face, drawn like a moth to the flame. She startled straight up in her chair. Actor. Actor. Actor. “I’m sorry. Of course, God changes people. Even without experiences as”—she searched for the right word— “eclectic as yours, I still fight a mean battle with bitterness and anger.”
“And fear?” His whispered question somehow brushed like a caress against her cheek.
No use trying to answer. Whimper, maybe, but forming words seemed pretty impossible. Fear? The ghosts of her past nipped at her heels like the Baskerville Hound. She never wanted to live through the hurt, shame, anger, and utter self-doubt of a betrayal again. Afraid? She was terrified. But evidently not terrified enough, because Wes’s closeness—his kindness—opened up a need for something sweet. Her face warmed. And maybe a little spicy too.
Ugh. If she were alone she’d slap herself. As it was, she held on to her flimsy smile and prayed he couldn’t see through the mask to her ridiculous swoon and man-candy delusions. Star-struck? By Wes-lightning. Definitely.
He gestured toward the plate on the table. “I have two pieces of toast, some homemade strawberry jam, and we both came downstairs to read devotions.” His ebony brows did the mamba to match her pulse. Another grin. Daggone it! “Quite providential, don’t you think?”
From the heat waving through her body, she was pretty sure Providence might be the wrong one to blame.
“I’m in Proverbs right now.” The words worked their way through her tight throat. “Chapter three, actually. How about you?”
“Proverbs three is perfect. Perhaps we could read from Ephesians tonight. I’ve been studying it over the past month.”
Studying Ephesians? Who was this guy? Maybe this was one of those Wizard of Oz moments and her previous black-and-white life just turned to full color…and smell.
He flipped open his Bible and absently ran a hand through his hair, upsetting his disheveled black mane even more. Eisley wrestled with her smile. Talk about surreal.
He met her gaze and tried to pat down his errant hair. “I suppose I could have made myself a little more presentable this morning.” A slight hint of pink flickered up the side of his neck into his cheeks.
His boyish vulnerability drew her in. “Are you embarrassed?”
He rolled his eyes, his smile spreading along with the deepening shade of crimson. “I’m an actor, not an alien. I do get embarrassed on occasion, the very human part of me.”
“You look…well…you look endearingly disheveled. I’d pay good money to look as adorable as you in the mornings.”
He placed his arm on the back of her chair and inclined his head closer, examining her. “Embarrassed and complimented at the same time. There’s a first.” His voice, his scent beckoned her toward a headlong plunge into complete and utter lunacy. “Seems you inspire a great many firsts, Eisley Barrett.”
Oh brother, who wrote that line? Reality doused the daydream. It was an act. Remember...a nice display of his degree in performing arts. She slumped back in her chair and grappled th
e attraction into obedience, determined to keep her inner conversation away from dimples, eyes, and other tempting options. “There’s nothing wrong with early morning spider hair. You should have seen mine this morning.”
“Thus, the reasoning behind these cute plaits.” He tugged on one of her braids.
I’m not cute, and stop smiling at me like that.
“I’m sure you’d prefer Anne of Green Gables to insane-looking frizz woman.”
Wes burst out laughing.
“What a pleasant sound to begin the day.” Eleanor sashayed into the room and offered a pristine smile, pink robe hugging her petite frame. “The plaits suit you, Eisley.” Her attention drifted to Wes. “Darling, did you even consider combing your hair this morning?”
Wes sent Eisley a wink. “I’ve been told I look endearingly disheveled.”
“Oh, is that it, then?” Eleanor poured a cup of coffee and joined them at the table. She surveyed his appearance, her smile softening. “I suppose one could call it that.
“We were just beginning to read a bit of Proverbs together.”
“Were you?” Eleanor’s gaze danced between them in an unsettling sort of way. “Might I listen as you read?”
“Oh yes.” Eisley seized the chaperone idea with her quick reply.
Wes watched her for a few seconds. Maybe those handsome eyes caught her desperation because he drew his attention away before she lost all control of her senses and ran a hand through that endearingly disheveled hair.
“Proverbs three, it is.” His honey-coated tones smoothed out the words as he began reading.
Eisley lost all sense of time and place while he read. Within the twenty seconds it took him to croon out the verses, she had envisioned their marriage, honeymoon, and twentieth wedding anniversary. So much for her subdued inner monologue. Major fail.
A verse filtered in through her daydream. “Would you read verse five again?”
“I think six goes along with it. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”
Trust. Eisley paused a smile. Faith, trust, and a little bit of fairy tale pixie dust? If God was trying to get her attention, he was doing a splendid job. God called her to trust him—even in matters of her hyperventilating heart. “I’m not too sure my heart is very trustworthy.” Her lopsided shrug added a visual to her uncertainty.
“If you are trusting God,” Eleanor’s voice cooed, “he’ll guide your heart and you needn’t rely on your own understanding, as it says. Yes?”
God would guide her? Like He’d guided her downstairs to Mr. Bare Feet and Sexy Hands? The muscles in her throat pinched down a very big swallow. She was in so much trouble.
Daniel rambled into the kitchen just in time to save her from further introspection.
“Good morning to the lot of you.” He walked to Eleanor, tipped up her chin, and touched his lips to hers in an attitude of a gentleman. “Good morning, luv.”
The utter tenderness of the distraction pearled all over her longing heart. Daniel Harrison was a class act, and the way he looked at his bride easily encouraged thoughts of happily-ever-after. What would if feel like to have someone cherish her? She tried to dislodge the thought from her head, but the way Daniel’s thumb caressed Eleanor’s chin dug the ache a little deeper. She was a glutton for punishment. Maybe she and little Mary had more in common than she wanted to admit.
“Would you like to read from…” Wes stopped. He looked from his parents to Eisley, a tender smile softening his eyes. “I thought you would have become acquainted with their affections by now.”
“How can anyone become familiar with something as beautiful as that?”
“Surely your parents are affectionate?”
Eisley snorted. “Yeah, my dad’s affectionate, but nothing like yours. He lumbers into the kitchen, grabs my mom in his arms, and brands her with a kiss to last her the rest of the day.”
“There’s an idea.” Daniel’s eyes took on a dangerous glint. He pulled Eleanor up from the chair and leaned her into a dip, kissing her all the way down and back up to set her on her feet again.
“Daniel Harrison,” Eleanor shot the name out with a squeak. She balanced against the table and looked at her husband as though he’d transformed into Dracula, smoothing back her hair with a shaky palm.
Eisley grinned like a complete idiot. It was the best scene she’d witnessed in years.
Daniel’s step got a bit lighter as he walked to the refrigerator. “Well, that shall do me for the rest of the day.”
“I should think so.” Eleanor lowered herself back into her chair. “Perhaps an entire week.”
Wes leaned by her ear. “Kisses are powerful things.”
Every muscle of her body screeched to a stop. The warmth of his cheek brushed hers. His smell already shot like venom to her grand resolve, and now he had to go and mention kissing? As if the smile, feet, and hair thoughts weren’t enough? If she turned her head ever so slightly, her lips would be in close proximity to his. Yeah, this friend idea wasn’t sticking quite as well as she’d hoped. Or maybe it was a little too sticky. Very web-like.
“So, Eisley.” Daniel’s interruption saved her from doing something really stupid, like giving in to that little turn. “Off to Lizzie’s this morning, then back to enjoy a bit more sightseeing with us for the afternoon? Chatsworth House is not fifteen miles away.”
The normal workings of her brain started moving again. “Chatsworth? How do I know that name?”
“The Palace of the Peaks, it’s called,” Daniel answered. “It was featured in a popular movie, wasn’t it, luv?”
“Yes, Pride and Prejudice of 2005,” Eleanor added. “Have you seen—”
“Are you kidding me?” Eisley slapped her palm against the table. “The place with the sculpture room? My sister Sophie is going to be so jealous.”
“I’m to miss two adventures today?” The sad look on Wes’s face almost had her believing he meant it. “I’m tempted to blow off the blasted audition.”
“Come on.” Eisley patted his arm. His strong, muscular arm. “You have an audition! That’s amazing. I mean, how fun could sneaking through a pitch-black tunnel be, compared to auditioning for a movie?”
His gaze held hers, disclaimer smile emerging slow and easy. “There’s plenty of recent incentive to give it healthy competition.”
She was pretty sure she couldn’t lean any further back in her chair without tipping over. Competition? Her brain worked to sort out his obvious underlying meaning, but stopped right before a possible reference to her. Maybe country life? “I’d want to stay in the country too. Not a city girl, obviously.” She winked and stood. He couldn’t be talking about her as an incentive. The idea sent prickly spider tingles crawling through her middle. No way. “And speaking of life, I’m gonna head upstairs and get ready for my day.”
He snatched her hand before she could escape, the rough ridges of his palm skating over hers. “Save some exploring for me, will you?”
She slid her hand from his and distanced herself by taking a few backward steps, her heartbeat galloping at full retreat. “I’ll do my best.” She caught herself from a little stumble. “Have a safe trip, and good luck with your audition.”
Eisley spun around and took off up the stairs at the same speed as her pulse. Maybe, just maybe, he’d stay away longer than a day. But for some frightening reason, the thought didn’t make her as happy as it ought.
Chapter Nine
Eisley insisted on walking the three miles to Lornegrave. The solitude gave her time to talk some much-needed sense into her thick skull. Only yesterday, Wes had topped the hill with her, shared little pieces of his painful past, and asked her to be his friend. Reality check, Eisley. You shook on friendship…that was all. Besides, she barely knew the guy.
She followed the footpath down the hill toward Lornegrave, scanning the verdant countryside along the way. Gray clouds hu
ng overhead, inviting more fog. A mysterious and obviously unused hunting tower clung to the side of the hill behind the house, almost hidden within a tangle of trees and ivy. She passed below it and grinned at the thought of Julia taking this path. Had she met her mysterious suitor along this road or had Father Martin chased her here to catch her sneaking another copy of the Scriptures to some local peasants? Who had she married? Did she find love in the arms of her second romance? Uncle Joe’s novel didn’t need all those details, but a deep craving stirred inside Eisley for answers, as if her heart might benefit from them.
She studied the gray sky, cool mist sprinkling her forehead. “Lord, I’m trying to give up this fear, but it’s so hard. I don’t want to go through that type of hurt again. And I know you use unexpected ways, but don’t you think this is a little…crazy?” God coming down to save the world being at the top of the grand and glorious craziness list. “Besides, it’s not really you I’m having trouble with.” Her confession slowed her pace past the vine-blanketed hunting tower. “Well I guess if I doubt your plans, then it is you I’m having trouble with.” She cringed. “You said, you—ahhh!”
One minute she was praying. The next minute she clung to the sides of a hole which devoured half her body. Her ankle gave a twitch of pain, but nothing serious. A laugh bubbled through her as she tossed another look to the sky. “Who says you don’t have a sense of humor, right? Aren’t you the one directing my path, Lord?” Eisley pushed herself out of the waist-deep pit and dusted the dirt from her pants. “Or maybe you’re trying to get me to watch where you’re going?”
She snickered, but the idea nicked at her conscience and then her spirit. She’d focused so much on her own fear and mistakes she’d forgotten to open her eyes to what God wanted for her, just as she’d acted with Marshall. She’d closed off God’s voice in her life and only listened to her desires, and now? God, help me listen. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not to your own understanding…” A heavy sigh shook her. What if it was God’s way?
Just the Way You Are (A Pleasant Gap Romance Book 1) Page 11
