For several long seconds his eyes delved into hers, and all at once Dani was afraid. Frightened of what would happen if John did kiss her. Frightened it would change the hard-won camaraderie between them. Frightened it would disrupt a friendship that was coming to mean a good deal to her.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a voice that didn’t sound anything like his own. He set her feet on the floor, but they didn’t move away from each other.
She nodded, uncertain she could speak coherently.
“You’re sure?” His thumb found her lip and brushed back and forth as if the action would appease the hunger between them. It didn’t help. If anything, it created an even stronger desire to sample forbidden fruit.
John closed his eyes, fighting her so hard she could almost feel it. “Dani…” He must have read the doubt in her eyes because he hesitated.
It had been a long time since a man had held her. A long time since she’d felt this protected, this cherished, this desirable.
John cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I guess you’re not hurt.”
“I’m…fine. Thanks for catching me….”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be climbing any more ladders.”
“John, it was a fluke. It won’t happen again.”
“I know, because you won’t be going up any more ladders.”
Dani knew from the tone of his voice that he wouldn’t listen to reason, nor was she willing to argue with him. Not just then, not after he’d held her so close.
“About…what almost happened,” he said uneasily.
“Don’t,” she whispered, pressing her hand against his hard chest.
His eyes widened as if he wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Let’s not confuse our relationship…. You said once, and I’m sure you’re right, that it wasn’t a good idea for two people working together to become…involved.” She moistened her lips while she struggled with the words. “We’re friends and I don’t want anything to ruin that.”
He frowned and looked away. “You’re right, of course.”
* * *
For two days following the incident on the ladder, John treated her like a polite stranger. If she hadn’t known better, Dani would have thought he was afraid of her.
“You know what I miss more than anything about the city?” she announced one afternoon when Mamie was visiting. “Pizza. One with a thick crust and oodles of cheese.”
“You can buy pizza in Ocean Shores,” Mamie assured her.
“Not the thick, gooey kind that was available in the University District, with three different kinds of cheese melted across the top.”
“I make a fabulous deep-dish pizza, don’t I, son?” Mamie prodded John. “We had a neighbor once who was born and raised in Germany. I know it sounds nuts, but she made the best homemade pizza I ever ate.”
Dani flattened her hands against her stomach. “You’re making me hungry just talking about it.”
“I have the recipe.”
“You do?” Dani’s eyes lit up at the mere thought.
“Come to dinner tonight and I’ll bake us all a pepperoni pizza.”
Dani was more than willing to agree. She wondered if John would show up, but guessed that he probably would.
“So you’re already missing the city,” he said, after his mother had left. “I thought you would.” His eyes gleamed as if it gave him a great deal of pleasure to think he was right about her, after all.
“Don’t be so quick. I didn’t say anything about returning to Seattle.”
“True,” he was ready to admit. “But you’re beginning to think along those lines.”
“I most certainly am not.”
“First it’s insatiable hunger for pizza, then it’ll be a sudden need to shop in a real department store, followed by the ever popular escape to a multiplex theater.”
“Would you kindly stop?”
“Torturing you, am I?” He laughed as if victory were already his. “I can taste success.”
Although he was teasing, and gaining a good deal of enjoyment doing so, a sudden thought hit Dani like a brick aimed square against her chest. “John,” she said softly, “do you want me to leave?”
The laughter drained out of his eyes and for several moments he said nothing. “No,” he whispered and having said that, he turned and walked away.
* * *
John stared at the chessboard and frowned. He should have known better than to agree to a match against Dani. She’d made it sound much too easy to outsmart her. That should have been the first clue that something was amiss. Four plays into the game and John knew he was facing an accomplished player.
“It’s your move,” she reminded him, sitting back, looking as “smug as if she’d already won.
“I know whose move it is.”
“There’s no need to get testy.”
John had been had, and he knew it.
“How’s the game going?” Mamie asked as she strolled into the living room and plopped down on the arm of Dani’s chair. It didn’t escape John’s notice the way women stuck together. The two had teamed up against him and he was lost.
“We’re doing great,” Dani answered, and nibbled on a handful of pretzels.
John reached for his wineglass and took a sip. He needed help. Big-time.
“Who’s winning?” Mamie asked next.
“Me,” Dani whispered, as if saying the words out loud would evoke his ire.
John kept his gaze lowered as he continued to study the chessboard, but he could still feel his mother’s amused gaze watching him. He wasn’t any slouch when it came to chess and she knew it.
“John won a trophy for chess.”
This was the last thing he wanted his mother to tell Dani.
“Really?”
“He was quite interested in the game for a time.”
“Mother,” he said with limited patience. “You’re breaking my concentration.”
“He was quite good,” Mamie continued in a whisper.
John ground his teeth. If the truth be known, he’d gotten the chess trophy because Mary Margaret Wilson was in the chess club.
“But I think he was more interested in Mary Margaret Wilson than he was chess.”
“Mother,” John said again, louder this time.
“Sorry,” she said, not sounding the least bit contrite.
“Perhaps,” Dani said with a smug smile, “he should have paid more attention to the game and less to Mary Margaret, then he might not be in this predicament.”
“Predicament?” Mamie asked.
“We have a wager on this game,” Dani whispered gleefully.
John would prefer it if she didn’t remind him. In a moment of weakness, he’d agreed to go bicycling with her on Tuesday afternoon…on the off chance he lost the match. Worse, she’d insisted that they rent one of the tandem bikes that were so popular with the tourists.
“I was tricked,” John muttered under his breath.
“How was that?” Dani asked with the innocence of a child.
He couldn’t very well claim that she’d looked at him with those big, brown eyes of hers, and he was lost. He discovered, much to his chagrin, that he would agree to just about anything when she batted those long lashes of hers in his direction. Come to think of it, Mary Margaret Wilson had done the same damn thing.
“I was sucker punched,” John said, repositioning his queen on the board.
Dani straightened and cast him a smile that would have melted an Alaskan glacier. She slapped her hands free of salt, and moved her bishop.
John groaned and closed his eyes. He was doomed. “Who tutored you, Bobby Fischer?” he asked sarcastically.
“No, my grandfather. We played every Sunday for years.”
John frowned. “You might have warned me.”
“Generally I do say something,” she said, sounding marginally contrite. “But your ego’s strong enough to accept a loss. Besides, I really wanted to try one of
those tandems.”
“And you figured the only way you could ever get me to agree was to casually involve me in a game of chess and then beat the pants off me.”
“John!”
“It’s an expression, Mother, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“I should hope not.”
“It is an interesting thought, though,” Dani said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Have you ever played strip chess?”
“Dani Beckman.” Mamie laughed. “You amaze me.”
His mother wasn’t the only one who was surprised. If he wasn’t careful, the salesclerk his mother had hired was about to wrap him around her little finger.
* * *
“Are you ready?” Dani asked, hurrying into the shop. She studied her watch. “I’ve got the bike reserved between three and four and it’s almost three now.”
“Is there any way I can buy my way out of this?” John asked, knowing even before she answered that she wasn’t going to let him off the hook.
“No,” she said and laughed.
“I’ll give you a raise.”
“John! A deal’s a deal.”
“I haven’t been on a bike in years.”
“This is great exercise. It’s good for your heart.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’d rather eat oat bran.”
She laughed again. “Are you coming or not?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.” He followed her outside with a decided lack of enthusiasm.
“It’ll be fun, I promise.” Luckily the bicycle shop was little more than a block from the antiques store. The weather was postcard perfect. A light breeze blew off the ocean and the sun was warm and inviting.
“It looks like rain,” John muttered, shading his eyes to look at the sky.
“There isn’t a cloud in sight and you know it.”
“Yes, well, I was hoping.”
Jeff Dolittle operated the bicycle shop. He rolled out the tandem when he saw them approach. “Howdy, John.”
“You say one word about this to the Rotary Club and I swear I’ll find a way to get back at you,” John warned without preamble.
“No problem,” Jeff said, but it was apparent he was holding back a laugh.
“Now, boys,” Dani said, chastising the pair.
“How’d you ever get him to agree to this?” Jeff asked, as she signed the final paperwork.
“Don’t trust her, Jeff,” John said before she could answer. “She looks sweet and guileless, but beneath those innocent brown eyes of hers lies a heart as black as coal.”
“I beat him in a game of chess,” Dani explained.
“Beat me. First off she misled me into thinking she barely knew the difference between a queen and a pawn and the next thing I know I’m the laughingstock of the entire town.”
“No one will laugh at you, John,” his friend promised. His eyes briefly met Dani’s before he added, “At least not to your face.”
“You’re a great comfort.”
“If he hadn’t been so willing to polish his pride by beating me he wouldn’t be trapped into doing this,” Dani informed them both. “And I didn’t sucker you into the game. If you recall, you’re the one who asked me if I played.”
“More fool me,” John muttered, climbing onto the seat in the front. “Are you ready or not?”
“I’m ready.” She positioned herself behind him, and slipped her feet onto the pedals. It felt a bit awkward to not have control of the handlebars and not see where they were riding, but she soon became accustomed.
“Come on and admit this is fun,” she said to John after the first few moments.
“All right, it’s fun.”
“Oh, look, there’s Laura.” Dani waved and called to the woman who had become her friend. Laura brightened and returned her energetic wave.
“Doug Foster asked her out to dinner,” she told John.
“Doug? But I thought it was Charley Sooner Laura liked best.”
“It is. But dating Doug was the best way to get Charley to notice her.”
John shook his head as if to say all this male-and-female intrigue was beyond him. “Has Charley noticed?”
“Not yet, but he will,” she said confidently.
They rode down the main road that paralleled the ocean and back again, taking the route that placed them along the long list of shops that catered to the tourist traffic.
Several people came out of their shops and stopped and stared.
“What’s so interesting?” Dani asked after a while.
“You and me,” John told her.
“Why?” To Dani’s way of thinking, they weren’t any different than any other couple out having a good time.
He didn’t answer her for several moments. “Riding a bike isn’t something I would normally do. In case you haven’t guessed, I’m known around here as something of a stuffed shirt.”
“Not you,” she said, throwing back her head and laughing.
“You, my fair-haired assistant, have gone and ruined my reputation.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Was that you I saw riding a bike last week?” Mrs. Wenchel said to John on Wednesday morning as he opened the shop.
“Yes,” he grumbled. He stood in front of the store and made polite conversation while he fiddled with the keys, wishing he could avoid the mayor’s wife.
“That was Dani Beckman with you, wasn’t it?”
John muttered another reply. He swore if one more person mentioned seeing him with Dani he wouldn’t be held responsible for his response. First off, the woman had tricked him into a wager, and then she’d insisted he keep his word.
“Well, I’ll let you get inside. It was good seeing you, John.”
“You, too, Mrs. Wenchel.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. Despite all the flack he’d gotten for the episode with the tandem, John had to admit it had been fun. Possibly the most fun he’d had in years. It came to him afterward that since his breakup with Patricia, he hadn’t allowed himself much time to enjoy life. It was as though his quota of fun had been forever lost with the relationship. Funny, he hadn’t realized that before now.
What John had learned in the last few weeks was that one couldn’t help but laugh when Dani was around. Her joyous, fun-loving mood was infectious. No longer did the zany way she dressed disturb him, nor her complete lack of talent with anything having to do with numbers. The contributions to his life far outweighed the liabilities. He didn’t like admitting that even to himself.
“‘Morning,” his mother said as she bustled in the front door a half hour later. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“No problem,” John assured her. He was grateful that with the increase in business, his mother had agreed to work for him on Dani’s days off.
“Have you been terribly busy?” Mamie asked, after she tucked her purse and sweater in the back room. She pressed her hand over her heart as if wishing it to slow down a bit.
“It’s barely ten.”
“It’s just that you’ve been so preoccupied lately, and I had visions of you swamped with customers. Lena Phelps phoned just as I was about to leave. I should never have answered the phone and you know how Lena is when she wants something. I thought that woman would never let me off the phone.”
“Mother, until recently there was only me.”
“I know, but you’ve gotten so much new business since Dani started working for you.”
John had no room to argue, not that he thought he should. “I’ll admit Dani was a real find. I don’t know how I got along without her.”
Mamie looked well pleased with herself. “She’s such a dear heart.”
Even knowing his mother was looking for reasons to pair the two of them together, and would analyze his every response, John found he couldn’t argue. “She is indeed that.”
Mamie pressed her hands together and sighed with all the drama of a stage star. “You do like her, don??
?t you?”
He stiffened. Much more of this and Mamie would soon be humming the “Wedding March.”
“It’s impossible not to like Dani, but that doesn’t mean we’re…involved.”
“But, John…”
“Mother,” he warned and was saved from responding further when the door opened and his first customer of the day strolled inside.
It seemed to John that Wednesdays were the longest days of the week. By midmorning, he found himself glancing at the clock, wishing the time would pass quicker. He hated to admit how much he missed Dani on Wednesdays. He couldn’t help speculating what she did on her time off. He wondered if she slept in late, then lazed in bed and read for an hour or two. That was doubtful. Knowing her, she was probably up at the crack of dawn and had jogged three or four miles before he ever thought about starting his day.
Business was slower than usual. John strolled through the store, admiring Dani’s personal touch on a variety of floor displays.
“Mother,” he asked abruptly, finding the original piece that had started Dani working on the window arrangements, “what’s wrong with this cradle?”
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, gazing at him from above her reading glasses. “Why, nothing that I can see.”
“Several people have shown interest in it, but I can’t seem to sell it.”
“That’s odd.”
John walked over to the corner where Dani had tucked the cradle and ran his hand over the top of it. He’d polished it until the wood gleamed and the grain showed clearly. “The price is fair,” he said, thinking out loud.
“I agree.”
“If I didn’t know better,” John said, “I’d think Dani didn’t want it sold.” There’d been any number of times that a customer had asked about it. As he recalled, she’d generally steer them in another direction.
“Why would Dani care one way or the other if the cradle sold or not?” Mamie asked.
“I don’t know.”
“If she wanted it, she would buy it herself, wouldn’t she?”
“Of course,” John murmured. He could think of no reason for Dani to want the cradle from yesteryear. If she were a collector, which she wasn’t, or a young mother, that either, he could better understand what was happening.