“All you need say is no,” he told her, his voice stiff with pride.
“Yes,” she said quickly before she made a bigger mess of this. “I’d enjoy dating you, John.”
Although he’d been the one to issue the invitation, he didn’t seem overly pleased with himself. A frown darkened his face.
“Have you changed your mind already?” she asked.
He chuckled. Dani loved the sound of his laughter and couldn’t keep from smiling herself.
“How about dinner?”
“Really?” She twisted around in order to get a better look at him. “Would you mind terribly if I made it? I’m very good in the kitchen, but it isn’t much fun when there’s only yourself to cook for. And there’s a new recipe I’m dying to try.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a restaurant?”
“Next time, okay?”
He grinned and brought her back into his embrace. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “When would you like me to come?”
“Is Saturday all right?”
“It’s perfect.”
* * *
Dani was late getting to work Saturday morning, but she suspected John wouldn’t mind, especially when she told him the reason. She’d stopped off at the grocery store and picked up the necessary ingredients for their dinner.
John had insisted they eat at his house and, because she was curious to see his home, she’d readily agreed. Taking the brown paper bag of perishables inside the store with her, she set it inside the compact refrigerator in the back room.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, joining him out front.
“Don’t worry about it.” His gaze held hers for several moments. Although they had yet to go out on an official date, they were the talk of the town. Rumors of a thriving romance between them made the rounds faster than a brushfire in August.
Townsfolk looked at Dani and smiled indulgently. John hadn’t so much as kissed her and yet, if she listened to the gossip, they were days away from announcing their engagement. What people didn’t understand and what neither John nor Dani would explain was that they were two wounded, lonely souls struggling to overcome their fears.
Mamie was in the height of her glory. She claimed she’d orchestrated everything. The last Dani heard, Mamie was handing out advice to a handful of other mothers on how to handpick their children’s spouses.
“I picked up a few groceries for our dinner,” she explained.
“Dani—” he hesitated “—there’s something we need to discuss.” He sounded dark and serious, almost the same way as in the beginning when she’d so often displeased him.
“Yes?” Her heart raced. She’d done something wrong. Her mind quickly reviewed the last few days and she couldn’t think of what it might be.
John’s gaze shifted about the room, his uneasiness palatable. “I fear there’s been some talk about the two of us that you might find embarrassing. First we were seen riding the tandem and then Wednesday we were kite flying, and I’m afraid folks have put two and two together and come up with five.”
“Are you referring to the news that we’re about to become engaged?”
His eyebrows rose. “You heard?”
“It’s all over town.”
“It doesn’t trouble you?”
“No.” She was thinking that perhaps it should. People didn’t know John one bit if they believed he’d marry anyone after so short an acquaintance. John Osborn was methodical and thorough, without an impulsive bone in his very fine body.
“All the talk will settle down soon enough,” he assured her.
“I suspect it will.”
Customers came in just then and their conversation was interrupted. John was helping the young couple looking for six shield-back chairs to match their dining room set, when the phone rang.
Dani answered it and was writing down the information when she happened to notice that the cradle was missing. Her hand froze.
“I’m sorry,” she said, when she realized she hadn’t heard the last bit of conversation. “I was momentarily distracted. Could you repeat the spelling of your name once more?”
It was an agonizing five minutes before John was free.
“Was that phone call for me?” he asked.
“Yes.” She tore off the pink slip and handed it to him, but her gaze remained riveted on the spot where the handcrafted cradle had once rested. “What happened to the cradle?” she asked. “John’s gaze followed hers. “Someone bought it this morning while you were shopping. I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get rid of that piece. You were rather fond of it, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I hope it found a good home.”
“I’m sure it did,” John assured her.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was inevitable that John would sell the cradle, Dani knew, but it felt as if he’d let go of something that had personally belonged to her. Something she’d loved and treasured.
“Dani, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She never had been able to lie easily. “I’m disappointed…I loved that cradle.”
“If you wanted it for yourself, why didn’t you say something?”
She shrugged. The argument was one she’d had with herself on a daily basis from the moment she’d discovered it hidden in the back room. “It was expensive.”
“Had I known, we might have been able to work something out.”
“I realize that.”
“I hate to see you disappointed.”
Dani had no one to blame but herself. “Really, John, I have no cause for complaint. I should have said something a long time ago.”
He dropped it at that, and Dani preferred not to dwell on the subject. The cradle had sold, but John had assured her the people who bought it would cherish it. She couldn’t ask for anything more than that.
The shop was busy. The population of Ocean Shores swelled to nearly ten times its size on weekends with the heavy tourist traffic of summer. Lunch was a few bites of salad between customers. Dani didn’t know how John would ever have managed alone.
By six, Dani’s feet hurt, and the small of her back ached, but nothing could put a damper on her enthusiasm for this first official dinner date with John. Rarely had she looked more forward to anything. It didn’t feel like a date, her first since breaking up with Bob. John was her friend, and their spending time together was a natural extension of that friendship.
After locking up the store, John carried out the groceries for her and paused before placing them inside her vehicle. His brow folded into thick lines as he frowned.
“Is something wrong?” Dani asked.
“I can just imagine what people will say when they see you following me home,” he muttered.
“Does it bother you? Because…”
“No,” he reassured her and relaxed enough to smile. “I was afraid it would upset you. Let `em talk to their hearts’ content. We know the truth and that’s all that matters.”
Only, Dani was beginning to wonder exactly what the truth was when it came to her and John. What had once seemed crystal clear had clouded as the boundaries of their relationship expanded.
Dani liked John’s house immediately. It was built on the water, but unlike his mother’s home, he’d chosen to live on the other side of the peninsula. The tranquil waters of Gray’s Harbor were a stark contrast to the tumultuous ocean that roared outside Mamie Osborn’s back door.
To Dani’s surprise, his house was furnished not in antiques, but with solid contemporary style. His leather sofa was a deep shade of brown, with two matching chairs. She found the kitchen to be spacious and modern. The man never ceased to amaze her.
He must have read the incredulity in her eyes. “I built the house for Patricia,” he said starkly, holding her gaze. “After she left I had too damn much pride to sell it. I’m glad now I held on to it.”
“It’s lovely.”
“Actually I think the house alone might have
been enough to frighten her off,” he admitted with a chuckle. “The original plans called for five bedrooms. I’ve turned one into a library and another into a media room, but the house was specifically designed with a large family in mind.”
For reasons she couldn’t hope to understand, Dani’s heart tightened in her chest with joy. “You like children?” she asked excitedly.
“Very much.”
“Did you have many brothers and sisters?” Dani couldn’t remember Mamie mentioning any of John’s siblings.
“No, there’s only me. Perhaps that’s the reason I was hoping for a houseful myself. My father died when I was young. I barely remember him, only that he loved my mother with all his heart and that she loved him.
“He was tall and his laughter was so loud it sounded like a freight train. It used to frighten me.” He stopped suddenly as if he hadn’t meant to say that much. “What about you?”
“I have one sister. Delia. She’s intelligent and beautiful, but painfully shy.”
“Your sister?”
“She stuttered as a child, and has overcome that except when she’s under a lot of stress, but she prefers to keep to herself. I worry about her sometimes.”
“Is she married?”
“No,” Dani said, and added on a sad note, “I wonder if she ever will marry. It would be a shame if she doesn’t. Delia has a lot of love to give.”
“Eventually she’ll find the right person.”
Dani unloaded the grocery sack and hesitated, her hand inside the brown bag. “How confident you sound. It’s almost as if you can read the future. If you’re so good at it, take a look at my own, would you?”
John reached for her hand, turned it over and pretended to examine her palm. He rubbed the underside of his chin. “Now that’s interesting.”
“What?” She found herself studying her hand, expecting to find something that hadn’t been there earlier.
“Look at the love line.” He traced his index finger across the width of her palm, which caused a deep, sensual sensation to curl in her belly.
“Short and stubby, right?” she joked, wondering at the peculiar sensation.
“On the contrary, it’s long, very long. I don’t think you have anything to worry about when it comes to love.”
How she wished she could believe him. “That certainly hasn’t been the case thus far.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But if your palm’s to be believed, that’s all going to change.”
Embarrassed now with all this talk about love, Dani returned to the task at hand. She finished emptying the sack and set the ingredients she’d purchased that morning along the kitchen counter.
“You never did tell me what you were planning to fix.”
“I didn’t?” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s a casserole recipe made with tofu and…”
“Tofu?” John interrupted.
“I know it has a bad reputation, but it’s really wonderful stuff, fat-free and…” She stopped when she noticed John open the sliding glass door and step onto the patio. “What are you doing?”
“Getting out the barbecue. I’ve got a couple of steaks in the freezer that the microwave can thaw. I’ll toss a couple of potatoes in there while I’m at it.”
“The barbecue?”
“No, the microwave.”
“You mean to say you won’t even taste my casserole?”
John looked as if he was of two minds on the subject. She was convinced he didn’t wish to offend her, but at the same time tofu was a stretch for a man who subsisted on meat and potatoes. It didn’t look as if he was willing to change his mind about her casserole, either.
“How about if we cook both?” he suggested as means of a compromise.
Dani nodded. “Okay, as long as you agree to taste my dish.”
He made some diplomatic reply and smiled so warmly at her she didn’t press him. Once he saw her concoction, he’d willingly taste it.
They worked side by side. Dani slipped out of her shoes and padded barefoot across the kitchen. He didn’t own an apron so she tucked a linen dishcloth into her waistband. John turned on the stereo and played soft classical music.
“Do you have anything country?” she called out.
“I don’t think so,” he said, sorting through his CDs. “Next time we do this, leave the tofu at home and bring your own music.”
“You’re going to eat those words, John Osborn. This casserole is to die for.”
“You mean it’s going to kill me?” he teased.
She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the cutting board, where she had chopped green peppers, mushrooms and an onion.
The evening was lovely, and once the casserole was in the oven, John poured them each a glass of white wine and gave her a tour of the house. The balcony off the master bedroom was her favorite spot.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said, leaning her elbows against the edge. The view of the harbor was unobstructed, and the night sang a gentle melody.
“It’s one of my favorite spots, as well.” He stood beside her and placed his arm around her shoulders. Dani found herself leaning against him, not for any physical support. A need strong and profound drew her to his side. Their hips brushed against each other. She paused and, wondering if she was the only one experiencing this awareness, she glanced up at him.
John removed the wineglass from her unresisting fingers. He set it aside and then turned her so they were facing each other. Gently, his large hands cupped her face. His thumbs caressed her cheeks in a circular, catlike motion. He seemed to be studying her, reading her.
Dani knew he was going to kiss her, the same way she’d known he’d wanted to the day she’d slipped from the ladder. They’d both been afraid then of what would happen if they explored the sensation between them. Need overrode anxiety this night as John slowly lowered his mouth to hers.
The kiss was slow and thorough, as if giving them each time to assess what was happening. To give her time to pull away if that was what she wanted. Dani didn’t.
He eased back and studied her, and it seemed to Dani that the air grew chilled. His gaze searched hers as if seeking some form of reassurance.
“John…” She didn’t know who reached for whom, but within seconds she was back in his arms. His mouth was warm and moist and enticing. John moaned, and cupping the back of her head with his hand, he deepened the kiss until they were both breathless and weak.
A heavy, warm feeling filled her. “Is this something friends do frequently?”
“I wouldn’t know,” John answered. “I’ve never had a friend like you before.”
“I should hope not.” She flattened her hand over her heart. “It’s pounding like crazy.”
“Yours? Listen to mine.” He pressed her hand over his chest and she felt the staccato thud of his heart racing against her palm.
A timer dinged in the distance and for the life of her, Dani had a difficult time making sense of why it had sounded. It came to her in a rush. “My casserole’s done.” Time had slipped by unnoticed and Dani was sorry for this new intimacy to end.
John seemed as reluctant to release her as she was to leave the warm shelter of his arms.
“I suppose I should go take it out of the oven,” she whispered.
“I suppose,” John agreed. But he didn’t move and neither did she. A moment later, with what felt like supreme effort, Dani eased herself out of his arms and headed for the kitchen.
“I’d best get those steaks on the barbecue.”
“Just remember that you promised to try my casserole,” she reminded him.
John hesitated. “I did?”
“John! I’m going to be terribly disappointed if we end up cooking separate meals all because you’re leery of a little bean curd.”
“Any man with pride wouldn’t ever admit to eating tofu.”
“But you said you would,” she reminded him.
“As I recall, I promised I’d sample your
recipe. Sample, as in taste. Taste, as in one small nibble from the end of a fork, and nothing more.”
Dani allowed a sigh to quiver through her lungs. “You’re a sorry disappointment to me.” She turned and was about to leave when John captured her hand.
“Am I?” he asked, his eyes dark and serious.
“What?”
“A sorry disappointment to you?”
“Ah…”
He brought her back into his arms and kissed her again and again and Dani’s toes curled with the intensity of it.
“Am I a disappointment?” he asked her a second time, while he spread soft kisses along the delicate line of her chin.
“Not…really,” she whispered, barely able to find her voice. “It’s just that…”
“Yes?”
“You’re sure about friends kissing like this? It feels much too good…much too right.”
John hesitated. “To be fair, when it comes to you, I’m not sure about anything. Not anymore.”
* * *
“Admit how good the tofu tasted,” Dani insisted. They sat in the bowling alley with Laura and Charley.
“I believe the word I used was interesting,” John answered with a teasing light in his eyes. Dani noticed the way his gaze found Charley’s, as if to suggest he was being a good sport about the whole thing.
“As I recall, you ate three helpings.”
“Was it really three?” John asked.
“Tofu?” Even Charley seemed to have trouble believing it.
“It’s not half as bad as we’ve been led to believe.” John told him, “Especially when it’s used in humble pie.”
Everyone laughed.
“It’s amazing what a man’s willing to do for a woman,” Charley said, standing up and reaching for the bowling ball. “I’ve never been bowling in my life. I was convinced I’d make a first-class idiot of myself. Yet, here I am wearing the most ridiculous-looking pair of shoes I’ve ever seen, tossing a ball at a few pins, hoping to impress Laura with what a great athlete I am.” He walked up to the line and released the ball as if he’d been doing so twenty years or more, not bothering to see how many pins he knocked down.
Laura smiled broadly at Dani, her eyes bright with happiness.
Charley walked back and slumped into his seat. “I’m not the only one, either. Here’s John,” he said, picking up the conversation as though he’d never left, “eating tofu and swearing he likes the stuff.”