by Chant, Zoe
“That sounded like it was right outside,” she said, puzzled.
Damien let his mouth curl into a pleased smile. “I have a surprise for you,” he said, taking her hand. “A practical surprise.”
Tawny looked at him skeptically, but let him lead her out the front door, and from there, out to the gate.
The car he had picked out for her was waiting at the curb, the driver standing beside it. It gleamed in the early sun, every sleek line perfect. The courtesy van from the dealer was parked behind it.
Damien was aware that there were people watching from around the neighborhood, attention attracted by the honk that had summoned Tawny.
He was glad. They should witness this gift.
“What is this?” Tawny said.
“I bought you a car,” Damien said, watching her face for the wave of delight to break over it.
Tawny’s brow furrowed. “You bought me a car?” Her voice was unexpectedly neutral.
“Trevor said your favorite color was blue, and it’s got heated leather seats, power everything, satellite radio, a back-up camera...” Tawny’s face was not softening the way he had expected.
“It’s for you,” he explained. “You didn’t have one.”
“I don’t need one,” Tawny said coolly.
“But how much easier would it make your life?” Damien said, not sure why she wasn’t properly excited. “Come, let’s take it for a test drive.” He snapped his fingers and the driver trotted to hand over the keys and disappear into the courtesy van.
He held the keys out to Tawny, who gazed back at him as the dealer van drove off.
She was in shock, clearly.
Damien smiled. “It handles like a dream, I promise,” he said. “It will make the mail truck feel like a barge.”
Tawny finally took the keys, turning them in her hand. “You bought me a BMW.”
“Nothing but the best for you now. Let’s take it for a drive.” Damien started to open the passenger door, and turned when Tawny didn’t follow.
The keys hit him square in the chest and he caught them by reflex.
“You might as well just leave cash on the dresser, you pompous jerk,” Tawny said, and she had slammed the garden gate before Damien could get the car door closed and follow her.
He heard the deadbolt slide home on the house door before he even got the gate open, and he stood there in shock, trying to figure out where things had gone so wrong.
Laughter made him turn.
A wizened, gray-haired man in overalls was pushing a trash can out to the curb next door, and he was chuckling and shaking his head.
“Good luck with that one, son,” the man said unsympathetically.
Damien scowled at him, less pleased with his audience than he had been. Down the block, curtains twitched aside in windows, and a woman pulling weeds a few yards down openly grinned at him.
“Hey, at least you’ve got a car to drive home in,” the man added over his shoulder, cackling as he returned to his house.
Grinding his teeth, Damien recognized the need for a strategic retreat.
Chapter 15
Tawny watched Damien drive away in the shiny car from the window by the door with a sigh of relief and disappointment.
She had been half-afraid that Damien was going to come up on her porch and pound on her door. And she had been half-hoping he would.
She regretted her temper already.
Not that she could possibly accept a gift like that. But she shouldn’t have called him a pompous jerk, or thrown the keys like a diva in a snit. She was better than that. She was a mature woman with self-restraint.
She glanced through the open bedroom door at the tousled bed and had to laugh at herself.
There had been no self-restraint last night.
And waking up with Damien’s arms around her...
Tawny realized that she desperately wanted Damien to come back. She loved how desirable he made her feel, how alive and excited.
But she knew better than to think he had any place in her life.
A car.
He’d known her a few days, and he’d bought her a diamond bracelet and then a car, the morning after she had taken him into her bed, like she was some kind of high-paid country mistress.
It only proved how little he understood anything about her.
Rather that stay in her house pretending that she wasn’t waiting for him to return, Tawny abandoned her plans to finish putting starts in the garden and gathered up her house keys and a grocery bag. She would have breakfast at Gran’s Grits and do her shopping first.
“HOW’S THE GARDEN GOING, Tawny? Retirement looks like it suits you.”
Tawny slipped into the booth and took off her sunhat. She was still dressed in her gardening clothes; an old shirt with rolled-up sleeves and jeans with knees that were white with wear.
She hoped her cheeks weren’t too red and self-consciously tugged at the t-shirt. Damien’s beard had left several rashes on her neck, and now she wished she’d worn something with a higher collar, despite the warmth of the day. “What’s the special?” she said desperately. She didn’t want to ask how much Andrea knew.
“Green pepper omelet with home fries. Feeling hungry this morning?”
Tawny sagged into her seat and looked up to meet the younger woman’s dancing eyes. Andrea definitely knew too much. “The special sounds fine,” she said faintly.
Andrea wrote it down with a flourish. “And to drink?”
“Coffee.”
“Coming right up!”
Tawny glanced around the diner as Andrea took her order to the kitchen.
Gran’s elderly gray cat was sleeping in the front window, and a few regulars were occupying other booths. She was grateful that it was a quiet morning, and wondered exactly how far the word had spread. She and Damien had certainly had plenty of audience this morning, and she knew that even just walking around town holding his hand was certain to invite speculation.
There was no easy escape from the gossip that Damien’s overnight stay would cause. Tawny scowled. Or his attempt to buy her a car.
“Your coffee,” Andrea said, pouring her a cup.
“Thank...”
Andrea slipped into the booth opposite from her.
“...you.”
Andrea grinned. “Shaun’s dad didn’t come home last night. I take it that things are going well?”
“It’s not going that well right now,” Tawny said honestly. “I do like him. He’s just... he’s from a different world, you know? One where he’s used to having all the control.”
Andrea smirked. “I know the type,” she said wryly. “But that’s not all bad.”
“He tried to buy me a car,” Tawny protested.
Andrea’s amusement vanished into surprise. “He didn’t!”
“He did,” Tawny said, angry all over again.
“Well,” Andrea said slowly. “You have to understand that he’s from a very different world. He’s got a ridiculous amount of money, and Shaun says he likes to give extravagant gifts. We’re constantly having to remind him not to spoil Trevor.”
“Trevor is his grandson, so that makes some sense. But he only met me a few days ago! And who buys someone a car?”
“I’m not saying it was a smart gift,” Andrea was quick to agree. “Just... try not to read too much into it. Have you ever heard of a love language?”
“A love language?” The idea alarmed Tawny.
“There are five kinds. Some people speak with acts of love—like doing a chore they know you hate, or meeting you at work with an umbrella when it unexpectedly starts raining. Some people prefer words of love, constantly complimenting or telling you that they care, even writing poetry or letters. Some people are all about the quality time and want to spend every moment with you. And some people use gifts of love. It can be awkward, if two people speak different languages, and don’t recognize what the other is trying to say.”
It was Andrea’s use of the word
love that was making Tawny so uneasy. “You’re saying that Damien speaks with gifts of... love,” she guessed.
“Shaun says it took him a long time to understand that about his father. He never gave compliments or showed affection, but he did give him an expensive car, and a credit card, and all the best schools. Shaun’s love language leans towards acts and words, and it was hard for him to realize that Damien was saying the things he longed to hear... just in a different language.”
He’d said he loved her, Tawny remembered, feeling confused.
“Can I get a refill?” someone a few booths down hollered.
“Just a minute!” Andrea responded loudly. More quietly, she continued. “Give Damien a chance,” she urged. “Keep in mind that he’s trying to talk to you in the language he knows best.”
“You said there were five kinds of love language,” Tawny said curiously. “What’s the fifth?”
Andrea grinned mischievously. “Touch, of course. That’s someone who expresses love with kisses and cuddles and... more.”
Tawny felt her cheeks light up.
Andrea’s grin only widened. “Of course, most people communicate with a combination of these five, but it’s rarely a perfectly balanced equation.”
“Order up!” Old George called from the kitchen.
“I think that duty calls,” Tawny reminded Andrea, voice choked.
Andrea slid out of the bench seat. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast,” she said cheerfully. Then she impulsively leaned over the table and squeezed Tawny’s hand. “You deserve to be happy, Tawny. Enjoy this.”
She sashayed away across the diner, leaving Tawny feeling more confused than ever. It didn’t seem fair that the little girl she used to babysit was giving her relationship advice.
It was almost as odd as needing relationship advice.
Chapter 16
Damien was waiting in a chair in Tawny’s yard when she returned, fighting down his lion’s urge to pace restlessly.
She was carrying a cloth bag full of groceries and a small, sensible purse, a battered sun hat over her pale hair. Her look as he stood was conflicted.
At least it wasn’t entirely unwelcoming.
“May I take that for you?” he offered.
She considered him a long moment, then handed him the heavy bag while she dug into her purse for her keys.
“About the car,” she said, as she unlocked the house.
“It was inappropriate,” he said promptly.
“Yes, it was inappropriate!” she scolded him. “Who buys a complete stranger a new car?”
“You’re not a complete stranger!”
“I’ve known you less than a week!”
There was a pause while Damien chewed over the speech he had planned, and Tawny held her hand out to take the grocery bag back.
“Tawny, I... love you.”
“Please reference the previous statement,” Tawny said gently. “I don’t know what you think it happening here, but I’m sure it isn’t.”
“It will,” Damien said more confidently. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
She looked at him with bewilderment. “Why me?” she asked.
“It’s... complicated,” Damien started, thinking about trying to explain his lion, and the idea of mates that he’d been convinced was fantasy not so very long ago.
She frowned, and Damien recognized that a compliment would have been much more appropriate. “I... ah...”
“There were probably better answers than that,” Tawny suggested dryly. Damien was relieved to see that her eyes were dancing with amusement.
“Yes,” Damien agreed with chagrin. “I’m doing a terrible job of this. Will you let me start over? The whole thing, from the very beginning.”
Tawny smiled slowly. “I’m afraid I don’t have a plate of food for you to dump all over me this time. Should we skip that part?”
Damien put his head back and roared with laughter.
He resisted the urge to lean down and kiss her, remembering her edict not to assume. “Tawny, may I kiss you?”
His lion was convinced that all they had to do was make love to her again, to remind her what they were to each other. Neither of them was accustomed to making requests.
“No,” she said firmly. “I haven’t forgiven you for buying me a car yet.”
Damien hadn’t expected a no. People didn’t tell him no. He blinked at her in confusion. “Are you going to?”
“Forgive you?” Tawny patted the side of his face. “I’ll think about it. Would you like to come in and have a glass of lemonade?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Damien said politely. “May I carry your groceries in for you?”
“How lovely,” Tawny said archly. “What a gentleman.”
She unlocked the door and led him into the house.
His phone rang as he was walking in, and he glanced at the screen as he refused the call. There were half a dozen missed calls.
“Are those all work calls?” Tawny asked, as she unpacked the groceries and managed to tuck them all into her chaotically organized cabinets.
Damien sighed. “Yes. We’re gearing to move into the busiest construction season, which is when the most things go wrong.”
“And you’re the one they call when things go wrong.”
Tawny hung the bag on hook on the back of the pantry door, and went to get the lemonade from the refrigerator. “It’s a little sweet, I hope you don’t mind. I like a lot of sugar in mine.”
“I like sugar,” Damien said, with a smile that implied he wasn’t talking about the drink she was serving.
Tawny blushed, as he had hoped she would, and sat down opposite from him at the little kitchen table. “So, what are you planning to do about your work?” she asked pointedly. “Aren’t they going to get angry that you aren’t there to take care of things?”
“Let them,” Damien said, but he felt a pang of guilt as he said it. He knew that he was making more work for everyone else, by shirking his, and that never sat well with him.
Tawny played with her lemonade glass, then lifted her chin and casually asked, “How long are you planning to stay in Green Valley?”
Damien wondered if he imagined the little defensive hitch to her voice.
They hadn’t talked about a future, though he’d taken it for granted until she threw the car keys at him.
“I had only planned to come for a few days,” he said thoughtfully. “Would you be interested in coming to Minneapolis with me?”
The alarm on Tawny’s face was unmistakable. “That’s a pretty big offer,” she squeaked.
Damien frowned, then realized she might think he was frowning at her and tried to smile. “Then I’ll arrange to stay here a little longer. I suppose I’d better start returning these calls.”
Tawny smiled at him hesitantly. “I’m glad you’ll be around a little longer,” she said softly.
“I have a good reason to,” Damien reminded her, reaching to take her hand.
He let her blush, then smiled and added, “After all, I’ve already signed up for piano lessons.”
Tawny laughed. “You don’t have to do that,” she said.
Chapter 17
Tawny watched Damien over the edge of her book.
Nothing in Tawny’s house felt big enough with Damien there.
Her bed was barely big enough for him alone; he could reach off of it in every direction easily. The two of them were crowded and competed for pillows and blankets.
Both of them could barely navigate the kitchen at the same time, and one person had to press up against the wall of the hallway if the other had to pass. Damien usually dropped a kiss on her head when that happened.
The bathroom was simply impossible, with its tiny single sink and its cluttered layout.
Even the living room felt small, with Damien claiming the largest easy chair.
And somehow, it still managed to be perfect, waking up wedged against him, using the excuse of the tiny space to st
eal hugs. Cooking with him in the kitchen, or washing dishes after dinner, it felt like he belonged there, close and comfortable.
Even when they simply worked together without really interacting like they were now, Damien tapping angrily on his laptop at emails and contracts and Tawny reading, just having him nearby felt deeply right.
He put the lid to his laptop down and looked up, and Tawny realized that her book had been in her lap for some time as she simply gazed at him in wonder.
“I was thinking chicken for dinner,” she said, flustered. “I have a pack of boneless, skinless thighs. Maybe barbecue basted?”
“It sounds delicious,” Damien said.
He said that about almost everything she proposed, and Tawny could not decide if he simply had no sense of taste, or if he was being polite. “I thought I might serve it with bitter greens and over-cooked liver,” she added.
“Sounds... um...” Damien looked like she’d just trapped him.
Tawny laughed. “Just checking to see if you were paying attention. How does a green salad with generic dressing sound?”
“Preferable,” Damien agreed.
“I can’t wait until later in the summer,” Tawny said, getting to her feet. “There is nothing like a salad that you harvested just a few hours before. Even with generic dressing.”
Damien frowned, glancing at his laptop, and Tawny suddenly remembered that he wasn’t planning to be there later in the summer.
He didn’t want to be in Green Valley.
He had important work in the city, work that he was clearly barely keeping up with on the phone and on the computer.
He had not brought up the idea of Tawny going to Minneapolis since he’d sprung the idea to her several days ago and she’d nearly had a panic attack, but he sometimes frowned thoughtfully at her when he thought she didn’t notice.
She went into the kitchen to start the dinner preparations, and tried to tamp down her worries.
She loved Green Valley. Her friends were here, her home, her cats, her garden. She could not imagine being happy in a city without those things.
But now she couldn’t imagine being happy without Damien.
