Defy the World Tomatoes (7 page)

“Calm down, Darcy. I don’t pay for sex. Now, I’m getting hungry. Let’s go inside and have dinner.”

He’d drawn her to her feet before she could break free of his grasp, but she was still angry. “Is it impossible for you to provide a straight answer?”

“On an empty stomach it is.” He slid his fingers from her wrist to her hand and led her into the kitchen. “I hope you won’t mind eating at the counter.”

Astonished by his audacity, Darcy had no interest in food. “I don’t think I can eat.”

She washed her hands at the sink and splashed water on her face to cool down. Griffin might have switched off his passion, but she could barely control hers. She didn’t even want to wonder what really making love with him would be like when she doubted she would survive. She grabbed a stool, sat and knotted her hands in her lap.

Griffin washed his hands then yanked open the cavernous refrigerator. “What would you like to drink? I have wine, soda, tea. There might even be a couple of cans of beer in here.”

“I’ll stick with water.”

Griffin got out a glass, plunked in some ice cubes and filled it with water. She accepted the glass with shaky hands and then dribbled the water down her chin. “Hey, I thought you were enjoying yourself out there,” he said.

“I was,” Darcy admitted, “but a little too much.”

“That’s impossible.” He returned to the refrigerator to hide his smile and quickly removed a roasted chicken and several containers of salad. “We may not have much in the way of ambiance here, but the food should be good.”

Darcy didn’t think she could take a bite, but Griffin served her plate and after she had taken a tiny nibble of chicken, she felt surprisingly hungry. “Thank you. I can’t remember the last time a man made dinner for me.”

“Have I finally done something right?”

The man did everything right, as far as she was concerned, but that would remain her secret. “I’m going to ignore that question until you answer mine.”

Turning serious, Griffin laid his fork across his plate. “The problem is, I’m not sure I can trust you.”

“Then we’re even,” Darcy assured him.

After a long pause, Griffin nodded. “Fair enough. I’m playing as well as I ever have, probably better, but there are no challenges left to me now. I can keep touring until I snap and fly apart in a thousand directions, or I can slow down now to free up the time to compose my own music. If no one likes it, then so be it, but at least I will have given some meaning to my life.

“Now if you really want to hurt me, you’ll tell anyone who’ll listen that I’m suffering from a mid-life crisis and can’t even play chopsticks anymore.”

Darcy swallowed hard, but when she looked at him, it was awfully difficult to concentrate on what she did want. “I won’t tell a soul, but if we lose Defy the World, then Christy Joy and I will be the ones to disintegrate, and nothing you record in our building will be any good.”

“What are you doing, putting a curse on the place?” A slow smile twitched at the corner of Griffin’s mouth.

“Curses, like vampires, probably don’t exist, but if you destroy us, you’ll surely have very bad karma.”

“You’re getting spooky, Darcy.”

Darcy slid off her stool and set her half-eaten dinner in the sink. “I’m going home. It’ll take me a couple of days to work up the watercolor sketches, and then I’ll give you a call. You needn’t walk me out to my truck.”

“Oh yes, I will,” Griffin insisted.

Darcy took her keys from her pocket as they circled the house. She just wanted to get out of there before the evening got any wilder, but she’d no sooner closed her truck’s door than Griffin reached through the window to grab hold of her hair.

Then he leaned in to kiss her.

It wasn’t anything like the tender kiss he’d given her last night. It was long, slow, deep and utterly delicious. When he finally broke away and stalked off to walk in his front door, she needed a full five minutes to get control of her breathing. Everything about the man was magic, but heaven help her, if either of them were cursed, it was she.

Chapter Four

It wasn’t until Darcy got home and put on the new CD that she realized how ridiculous her threats must have sounded to Griffin. Listening to his music was like having him in the room, and she could easily visualize the intensity of his expression and the ease with which his fingers sped over the keys. The man was a musical genius, and she’d warned him to avoid bad karma.

She could still feel the lingering tingle of his touch through her clothes and, as his music swept through her, she stretched out on her bed to savor the delicious sensation. His magnificent performance deserved a standing ovation, but should she ever attend one of his concerts, she didn’t know where she would find the strength to leave her seat.

The man overwhelmed her senses. She tried to convince herself it was a good thing, but it was awfully difficult to believe.

Griffin ran through the most difficult passages of half a dozen of his favorite pieces before he began to work on one of his own. The melody was haunting, and the variations were so intricate they challenged him as his usual repertoire no longer could.

When he glanced at his watch, it was past midnight. He was tired, but not nearly tired enough to welcome sleep. What he wanted was to lose himself in Darcy’s delicate beauty, but she was maddeningly disinclined to spend more than a minimal amount of time with him, and none of it in his bed.

He’d never been drawn to petite women, but Darcy had more attitude than an Amazon leather-clad biker chick. Their kind had never appealed to him, either, but he was convinced Darcy’s tough façade hid a touching vulnerability. He smiled whenever he thought of her, which was quite often.

That she apparently liked him not at all was merely a minor problem he was confident he would eventually overcome. It would be exactly like learning a new piece of music and, one day soon, he would master her just as easily.

Christy Joy took Twink to a babysitter on Saturdays, but that morning she was running behind schedule and rushed in the back door without a minute to spare before it was time to unlock the front. She took a deep breath and reminded herself how much she loved her colorful shop, but on stressful mornings like these, she feared it was taking too great a toll on her and her darling daughter.

The clerks always straightened up before they went home for the day, but Christy Joy stopped to refold a couple of sweaters before she opened the register. When the bell at the front door rang, she expected one of the clerks, but it was Jeremy Linden, a sport fishing boat captain, who had entered.

Jeremy removed his white cap and raked the sun-streaked tips of his light brown hair off his forehead. He stood just under six feet, but even dressed in a loose-fitting denim shirt and khaki pants, his slim build made him appear taller.

“Good morning, Christy Joy. Is Mary Beth coming in today?”

“Yes, she’ll be here in a minute. I see you have the latest Tom Clancy book. I think it’s wonderful that you and Mary Beth read so many bestsellers. I wish I had time to read something other than children’s books for Twink, but I’m afraid after our bedtime stories, I fall asleep nearly as quickly as she does.”

“You’re working too hard, but I guess it keeps you out of mischief.”

Christy Joy laughed as though straying into mischief were even a possibility. “Twink loves that little boat you gave her. It’s just the right size to float in our fountains. It was a very thoughtful gift.”

Shrugging off the compliment, Jeremy adjusted the fit of the Clancy book’s colorful paper jacket. “Twink’s an awful cute little girl.”

“Thank you. Like any mother, I’m very proud of her.”

Christy Joy did not know quite what to make of Jeremy Linden. He hired his boat out for charters, and he’d begun strolling through Defy the World Tomatoes even before they’d opened their doors to the public. From the day she and Darcy had leased the property, they’d welcomed whatever interest the townspeople had shown, but Jeremy had never come in to chat like the others. Instead, he’d simply wandered around taking everything in without ever offering an opinion.

She’d noticed him first because he was attractive, with the wind-toughened appearance of a man who spent his life at sea. Then, gradually, she’d become intrigued by his silence and had gone out of her way to speak with him just to see if he would respond. He always had, but more often with shy smiles and obliging nods than complete sentences.

While he apologized for not being able to use any of their merchandise on his boat, Christy Joy often saw him fondling their wares as though he were searching for a treasured keepsake. As with all their conversations, this one was punctuated with long pauses, but when Jeremy finally looked up at her, his green eyes sparkled brightly against his deeply tanned skin. Reassured of his interest, she hoped he would stay a while.

“Our business is showing a steady increase,” she confided, “and with luck, we’ll have a terrific summer. But for now, I refuse to think beyond the end of August. How are things going for you?”

Jeremy inclined his head slightly. “Kinda slow, but sport fishing is always better in the summer. The gray whales begin their migration soon, and usually a few people happen along who want to go out and watch them. I can’t offer any guarantees that we’ll actually sight a whale, but that’s real easy money.”

Christy Joy had never found Jeremy in such a talkative mood, and she smiled to encourage him. “When I was in grade school, my class went whale watching. We only saw one whale, but it was so exciting. Do you suppose Twink is old enough to appreciate what a privilege it is to see a whale swimming free?”

Jeremy shifted his feet in an awkward shuffle, but then nodded. “Sure. Maybe someday when you’re not too busy, and I don’t have a charter, we can take Twink and go out and chase whales.”

Had his offer been spontaneous, Christy Joy would have been pleased, but she feared that he’d mistaken her question for a pointed demand. “Oh, Jeremy, please don’t misunderstand, I wasn’t fishing for an invitation.’

Amused by her breathless apology, as well as her choice of words, Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh. “If you want to fish too, that’s okay.” Mary Beth came through the door then, and, still chuckling, Jeremy turned away to walk with her back to the counter.

Christy Joy was uncertain how she’d gotten herself into such an awkward situation, but this was the first time she’d ever heard Jeremy laugh, and it was a very pleasant sound. Mary Beth was dating Wes Lundberg, a CPA with his own accounting firm, and regarded Jeremy as merely a friend, but Christy Joy still felt as though she’d overstepped her bounds.

She hoped Jeremy would soon have so many charters he’d forget all about providing lessons on marine life for Twink, but he gave her a jaunty salute as he left the shop, and she feared hers was an invitation he would remember. Of course, if she and Twink were to go out on Jeremy’s boat, it wouldn’t be a date. It would just be whale watching and nothing more.

Maybe they could take Twink’s preschool class, she thought for an instant, then realized it would be an even greater imposition than she’d already made. There were women who used their children’s needs as an excuse to spend time with a man, and probably an equal number of men who were attentive to a woman’s children as a means to impress her, but she would never be a party to either ploy.

Absolutely not. If Jeremy actually followed through on the trip, she would bring snacks and make certain they all had a wonderful time. It was the least she could do, but as she approached Mary Beth, she had the sinking feeling she’d done something wrong.

“Mary Beth, if things don’t work out for you and Wes, would you date Jeremy Linden?”

Mary Beth pushed her glasses up her nose. “Whatever makes you think Wes and I aren’t a perfect match? Oh, never mind, you needn’t explain. Jeremy and I both love to read, but that’s not the same as having a romantic interest in someone, that sizzle that makes you turn and look twice at a man. But why are you asking? Did Jeremy say something about me just now?”

“No, apparently he just stopped by to drop off the Clancy book. Has it ever struck you as odd that you and a sea captain have the same tastes in reading?”

Mary Beth slid one of the Defy the World’s flower-tipped pens behind her ear. “What’s wrong with liking mysteries and thrillers? Jeremy’s very good at analyzing and comparing plots, but that just makes him an interesting friend. Haven’t you noticed how he looks at you?”

Startled, Christy Joy slipped her hands into the pockets of her blue gingham jumper. “Why no. I thought he just enjoyed perusing our stock.”

Mary Beth rolled her eyes. “That’s just an excuse, Christy Joy. The man comes in here to see you.”

“You’re kidding.” Christy Joy hadn’t noticed Jeremy giving her any special attention. “I imagine he’s just lonely.”

“Which could very well be, but he looks at you as though you were a delicious glob of cotton candy that he can’t wait to wrap around his tongue.”

“Mary Beth! You stop right there.” Christy Joy was enormously relieved when the arrival of another clerk forced an end to their conversation and she could attend to business rather than Mary Beth’s wild imaginings.

Darcy left the watering to George that morning to remain in her office and work up some dazzling sketches for Griffin, but she just couldn’t concentrate. Every job she did provided an advertisement for the next, and if she could post a discreet sign on Ridgecrest, she might receive several more lucrative commissions. Unfortunately, at the rate she was progressing, she wouldn’t have a single impressively detailed sketch ready to show him in a week, let alone the couple of days she’d promised.

Unable to sit a minute longer, she went out to find George. “I’m going to walk over to the post office and check on the flowers. There might be some that need replanting.”

“Good plan,” George replied. “Everyone in town goes in at least once a month for stamps, and it pays to keep it looking sharp.”

“Right.” Darcy put on her cap, carried her clipboard to make notes and went striding on down Embarcadero. She turned inland at Monarch Bay Boulevard and went up two blocks to the post office. Even with her critical eye, the landscaping was a panorama of colorful perfection, but she pinched off a fading blossom here and a brown leaf there to justify her visit.

She heard footsteps on the walk and, without turning around, knew exactly who it would be. Her chest tightened in anticipation, and she had to force herself to turn slowly rather than spin like a prima ballerina.

“Good morning, Mr. Moore, you’re out early.”

“It’s nearly noon, Darcy, and I’ve been up for hours. After all, it’s no fun staying in bed alone.” He was wearing sunglasses, but they scarcely disguised his taunting gaze. “I had no idea you did the landscaping here. Do you come by each morning to pull weeds?”

“No, once a week or so will do.” He’d walked right by the sign for Defy the World Tomatoes at the edge of the flowerbed, and Darcy doubted that he’d missed it.

“I have to pick up my mail, and then, if you’re finished, I’ll walk you back to your nursery.” He started up the post office steps, then turned back. “Do you know if there’s a music store in town that sells manuscript paper? I’ve several compositions in my head that I ought to write down before they blur into a single hideous wail.”

Darcy had to crane her neck to look up at him. “You came here to write music and neglected to bring the proper paper to transcribe it?” she inquired skeptically.

“Obviously a terrible oversight,” Griffin admitted. “Now, answer my question.”

Darcy’s glance shot down the row of bright yellow daffodils. From what she’d seen of Griffin Moore, he was not the type of man to overlook such a significant detail, and his answer didn’t ring true. It was disturbing, but then everything about the man was.

“I’m not sure, but Song and Dance might have your paper. The clerk is a big fan of yours, by the way, and I’m sure the store will place a special order for you if they don’t carry anything you need.”

Clearly astonished she would possess such knowledge, Griffin came back down the steps. “How did you happen to discover this remarkable clerk’s preference in music?”

Caught, Darcy mumbled under her breath, “I bought one of your CDs.”

“I beg your pardon?” Griffin stepped closer.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Darcy nearly shouted, “I bought one of your CDs.”

“I would have given you a dozen, had you asked,” Griffin confided softly. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just say so.”

Darcy clamped her jaws shut rather than tell him to keep his hands off their building, but the effort made her cheeks ache. “Better grab your mail. I’ve got to be going.”

“I think you’ll wait.” Griffin took the post office steps two at a time and returned in a matter of seconds with a handful of letters which he jammed into the hip pocket of his Levi’s. “How long have we known each other? Has it even been a week?”

“Not quite.”

“You’re counting the days?” Griffin reached out to hug her and nearly lifted her off her feet. “Sorry.” He carefully set her down and took her hand to continue their walk. “There’s something in the air here that I find most inspiring. Now if I can only capture it in music, I could end up famous.”