Heart of Dixie - Tami Hoag (1) (15 page)

Eldon gave Jake a long meaningful I-still-have-your- Porsche-at-my-mercy look, then slid back down on his side of the booth. Dixie rolled her eyes. Jake growled a little under his breath.

"I'm sorry," she said with a sheepish look. "He's just--"

"Looking out for you, is all," Jake finished. He reached over and tweaked her cheek to let her know he wasn't angry, then settled in his seat to think.

How many of the good folks of Mare's Nest knew Dixie's other identity? he wondered. How many of them had she trusted with her secret? It warmed his heart to think of how they had taken her in and treated her like a beloved daughter, cossetting and protecting her, indulging her and looking out for her well-being. But it made him feel like an outsider as well, not just in Mare's Nest, but in Dixie's life. When would she trust him enough to tell him her secret? How long would it take before he became a part of her family?

Guilt nipped at him as he glanced around the little cafe. He took in the dark green and pink ruffled chintz curtains at the windows, the neat little tables with their menu holders and condiments arranged just so. Most of the patrons sat near the counter, sipping their morning coffee and chatting in their pleasant lazy drawls. Miss Cora May Trulove perched on a stool at the counter, fiddling with the volume knob on a portable color television. Miss Divine slapped at her hand as the daytime version of Wheel of Fortune came on.

Dixie's friends were looking out for her, trying to protect her. And who was he? The wolf in sheep's clothing, sneaking in among them to snatch their little lamb. A writer looking for a story. But the book was no longer his primary objective, he admitted as he stared at Dixie, whose attention had been snagged by a loose thread on the cuff of her blouse. He wanted to know all her mysteries because he was obsessed with her, because he had to know everything about her or feel incomplete...because he loved her.

"What?" she said, looking up at him, her brows drawing together. "Have I got something on my face?" she asked, rubbing her chin with her fist. "I knew I shouldn't have monkeyed with that kitchen faucet before we left. I've got grease on me again, haven't I?"

"You look fine," Jake murmured, resting his forearms on the tabletop. "I think you're absolutely beautiful."

She actually blushed. He couldn't believe it. She had to have been told that same line by some of the most famous men in the world and yet she was blushing. Of course, she had been Devon Stafford then, the sex symbol, the actress. And now she was just Dixie La Fontaine, innocent and uncertain. "I love you," he said softly, simply, honestly, never taking his eyes from hers.

He hadn't planned on telling her. The feeling was still too new to him. But the words had just come out, had been drawn out by the look in her eyes.

Dixie felt all the blood drain right out of her head. Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew round. She stared at Jake. He sat there in a casual pose, but there was a tension in the set of his broad shoulders and in the line of his strong jaw. The intensity of his eyes was enough to take a woman's breath away. And, oh my, he was handsome. His golden hair had been tossed a little by the morning breeze and he hadn't bothered to comb it with more than his fingers. He wore a white T-shirt with a faded blue chambray shirt over it, the cuffs rolled back three times to reveal strong tanned forearms. A gold watch was strapped to his wrist; the hair on his arm curled around the face of it like delicate scrollwork.

He loved her.

Dixie blinked as her vision swam a bit. Wasn't it just like him to make a statement like that, calm as you please, and then sit there watching her, looking right inside her with those laser-blue eyes of his.

He loved her. "Oh, my," she whispered.

His expression softened as he looked at her. Dimples creased his cheeks and he chuckled to himself. "I guess you weren't expecting that."

Expecting it? She had let herself dream about it a little, but no, she hadn't let herself expect it. She had given up having expectations. They were dangerous. There was too much potential for disappointment and it hurt too badly when that disappointment came. No, she hadn't expected to hear him say it, but it filled her with a golden warmth just the same.

"That doesn't mean I didn't want to hear it," she whispered.

"Good," he said in that decisive way of his that made Dixie wonder if he'd ever been uncertain of anything in his life. He seemed so strong, so...perfect.

Fear grabbed her by the throat like a fist. After so many months of quiet solitude she suddenly felt as if her life were bolting off like a runaway horse, dragging her along with it. And complications thundered in a big herd right behind her, just waiting to trample her in the stampede.

Love could be a wonderful thing and it could be disastrous. It could be exhilarating or terrifying. Fear surged through Dixie like ice water in her veins. Her whole way of life hung in the balance because she had fallen in love with a handsome stranger. What did she know about Jake Gannon other than what he made her feel? Love meant sharing everything, trusting another person with your most delicate feelings and deepest secrets, sharing flaws and dreams and pasts, baring the most tender parts of heart and soul and trusting the other person not to hurt you. With Jake it meant trusting a man she barely knew.

I didn't come here to hurt you, Dixie. The line came back to her as clearly as if he'd only just said it.

The customers at the counter were shouting encouragement to a contestant on Wheel of Fortune. Miss Cora May announced the answer to the puzzle and gave a rebel yell, as if she'd won herself a new Mercedes. Miss Divine came toward them, half bent over, her slender back bowed like a willow branch by the weight of the tray with their breakfast on it.

"Can I get a refill on my coffee when you have a minute, Miss Divine?" Eldon shouted as she passed.

"No. All that acid is bad for your stomach, Eldon Baines."

"Yes, ma'am."

Jake got to his feet to take the tray. "I'll take that for you, Miss Divine," he shouted. "We don't want you to miss your program."

She gave him a look of approval, then slanted Dixie a smile and a wink. "I believe you may have a good one here, Dixie love. Even if he is from California."

Dixie dug up a smile for her friend. "I hope so, Miss Divine. I hope so."

They fell into a routine over the next week. Jake would run on the beach with the dogs in the morning, then Dixie would walk with him as he cooled down. They would share a cup of coffee and talk with Sylvie and sometimes Fabiano, if he wasn't busy with his t'ai chi or his art. Then Dixie would go off to fix somebody's washing machine or run on a call for Eldon or just go visiting her friends, leaving Jake to work on his mystery novel. In the evening they would walk on the beach again, returning to his cottage to make love.

It was a comfortable arrangement, Jake had to admit, but there were a few details that left him feeling unsettled. Eldon hadn't finished with his Porsche, Dixie hadn't told him she loved him, and the name Devon Stafford had not been raised.

He counseled himself to give her time. He had no deadlines in his life. He told himself he couldn't expect her to simply let go of a secret she had kept from the rest of the world for over a year. And yet it gnawed at him. Her lack of trust hurt him and at the same time it kept him from telling her about his own other identity. If she didn't trust him enough to tell him, she didn't trust him enough to hear his confession either.

Somewhere along the line he had given up the idea of writing the Devon Stafford story. The more he knew Dixie, the deeper he fell in love with her, the less he wanted to share her with other people. He had thought the world might benefit from getting to know the woman behind the glamorous Devon Stafford image, and no doubt they would, but still he wanted her all to himself.

It seemed a completely miraculous thing to him, falling in love. He had never given it very much thought until now, until he'd fallen like a rock for a curvy minx who turned her nose up at all his sensible habits. He had always assumed he would end up with a woman who shared his views on fitness and health and orderliness and logic. But Dixie detested the idea of strenuous exercise, she ate whatever she had a craving for, and the concept of neatness escaped her entirely. She was his opposite in almost every way and he was crazy about her.

He dug around now in the box that held all his notes and files, the box he had largely ignored since his arrival in Mare's Nest. He shuffled through the photographs and news clippings, comparing the Hollywood star to the woman he knew. He had a difficult time picturing Dixie as being happy in Hollywood. Compared to what she had here, the life of a star would seem foreign and phony. It pained him to think of Dixie living among the sharks. The entertainment business was tough and competitive, every man for himself. He knew she had been hurt by it, and the very idea was like a knife in his heart.

He singled out the most recent picture of Devon Stafford, a shot taken by a tabloid photographer as she'd come out of a meeting with her agent. She'd looked right at the camera, the famous green eyes brimming with tears and defiance and a pain that cut him to the quick, the pouting lips turning downward. He thought she looked too thin to be healthy even though she'd already gained weight after quitting smoking. She looked miserable and he wished she were in the room with him right that minute so he could have gathered her close and offered her comfort.

The screen door banged behind him and he dropped the photograph into the box, closed the top of the carton and lifted it onto a shelf above his desk.

"I promise I won't peek," Dixie said. She came up behind him, wound her arms around his waist and rubbed her cheek against his back, inhaling deeply of the warm, masculine scent of him. "I'll let you read it when I'm done," he said, turning and looping his arms around her. "Before anybody else gets to see it. How's that?"

Excitement lit her face. "Will you? I'd like that. I'd--"

Dixie broke off at the look on Jake's face. He looked strained, upset, as if he were laboring under a terrible emotion. She reached up and rubbed the worry line etched between his brows. She stroked his cheek. "Sugar, what's wrong?"

He sighed and shook his head, mustering a weary smile. "Nothing. I was just kind of wrapped up thinking about my heroine."

"Oh. What's she like?"

He thought about that for a minute, his eyes taking on that searching quality. "She's...a little lost, uncertain. She's still kind of a mystery to me. Something is haunting her, but I haven't figured out what."

Dixie frowned. She wanted to say she knew someone like that, that she was someone like that, but she held her tongue. Instead she scratched the tip of her nose and gave him a curious look. "You're making her up out of your head and you don't know?"

"Sometimes it works that way." "I'll bet that just drives you crazy," she said, teasing.

He smiled at her, a soft, gentle smile, and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Yeah, but I'll work it out. What are you up to?"

"Nothing special. I thought maybe if you weren't in the throes of some creative fit you might want to go for a boat ride. I thought we could take my old power boat over to Horse Island and have us a picnic supper."

"I like that idea very much. I'll provide the supper."

Dixie scowled at him. "It won't be made out of tofu or some awful stuff like that, will it? Because I'll warn you right now, I won't eat it. And if you come near me with a stalk of broccoli I won't be held responsible for my actions."

"Don't get a bee in your bonnet. You can bring the dessert, so if I bring anything too healthy you can still get your quota of processed sugar. How's that sound?"

"Sounds like you're making fun of me, that's how it sounds," she said, pouting.

"That's not it at all. I want to contribute to the outing. I can't run a boat so it has to be something else. Now, if you still think I'm making fun of your sweet tooth you can feel free to take a poke at my dubious mechanical abilities." He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. "Okay?"

"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. "It's just that sometimes I think about how you're such a fitness fanatic and that maybe you wished I'd go running and live on celery and hone myself down to some ridiculous anorexic shape."

"Then you wouldn't be my Dixie, would you?" he said, leaning down to kiss her, running his hands lovingly down her back and over the flare of her hips. He growled appreciatively, nibbling her throat, his fingers cupping and kneading her buttocks. "I happen to love your shape, lady. Can't you tell?"

Dixie groaned as he pulled her hips against his and let her feel his growing arousal. She met his kiss hungrily, opening her mouth for him and welcoming the thrust of his tongue. Time spun away as they concentrated on pleasing each other. Jake finally lifted his head a fraction to draw a breath. Dixie smiled against his lips and hugged him, blinking back the sudden threat of tears. "Sometimes I think you're just too good to be true, Jake Gannon."

He gave her a roguish smile. "Yeah. It's my one great flaw." They agreed to meet behind the beach house at two o'clock. Jake borrowed the Bronco to run into town in order to procure their supper. Meanwhile, Dixie packed the picnic basket with utensils and a container of homemade caramels, fudge, and pralines. Sylvie supervised, sitting at the kitchen table nibbling on a piece of fudge and clucking like a fussy old mother hen.

"I tell you, Dixie, I only want what's best for you. You know this. You're like my own daughter to me, only you haven't ripped my heart out by marrying into a family of gangsters like my Riva."

"I thought she married a stockbroker."

"There's a difference?" Sylvie sniffed and shrugged, flipping one bejeweled hand. "I would never give you bad advice, Dixie. God forbid I should ever give you bad advice. You have to tell him."

"I know I do," Dixie said reluctantly. She picked up a dish towel and mopped up the water that had leaked out of the faucet handle. She was going to have to replace the cartridge, that was all there was to that, she thought absently. "I'm just not ready, is all."