In a Moon Smile (39 page)

“Whoa, that great mood you were in this morning has left town,” Dalton stuck his head in the office doorway. “Is everything okay?”

She smiled at him, “Is it that noticeable that I’m throwing myself a little temper tantrum?” She tried to avoid those gorgeous eyes and all the questions she wanted to ask about them. “My agent called. I have to go to New York for a few days.”

“And that’s not what you want?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not really in the mood. I wanted to get all this work done. But I guess if I have to go, it’s best to go before winter. I will only be there for two or three days. I don’t know, I just don’t feel like going.”

“Don’t worry about anything,” Dalton smiled. “I’ll look after Blossom while you’re gone.”

“Thanks,” she smiled again, noting that Dalton was again showing that he was a good friend. If he never became anything else, at least she had his friendship.

“I’ll get going for today,” he said. “I’ve got most of the tile done in the upstairs bathroom. Tomorrow, I’ll finish that.”

“Sounds good,” Chesney pretended to search through a file so she could hide the disappointment. The very thought of the handyman leaving so early made her mood even darker. “Why don’t I want to go to New York?” She asked herself as she watched Dalton drive away. “I should be ecstatic about my new book. And I haven’t seen my old friends for months. I thought I would welcome a chance to visit everyone again.”

How long had it been since she wore one of these stuffy outfits? She frowned at the assortment of pencil skirts, frilly blouses and pumps. Where were those cute wedges she bought last year? Should she search through the boxes on the top shelf to find bracelets and diamond earrings? Chesney was surprised to see how life in the country crept into her identity while she wasn't looking. Before she ever bothered to pay attention, she had developed into a totally different type of woman. For the first time ever, Chesney dreaded wiggling into one of the linen shifts. As she considered accessories and high heels, her mood plummeted.

“I might have to wear these horrible clothes when I meet with Gloria. But I refuse to travel in something so confining.” She grabbed a favorite cotton sundress then returned it to the closet. “You’re being ridiculous,” she muttered. “You can’t go to New York looking like the county fair queen. Stop being such a baby.” Still frowning, Chesney chose a crisp white blouse and a short, coral skirt for tomorrow’s flight. In the luggage, she added a black dress with black sandals for the photo shoot and a fun, strapless red dress for dinner on the town with old friends, Leanna and Margaret. At the last minute, a crocheted tunic and a pair of worn, comfortable jeans was added to the mix. Maybe she would find time to walk around the city.

“My heart isn't in this at all, Blossom.” She cuddled the pup as she made the confession. “I want to be here, where I feel safe. I want to be here, where I can secretly lust after Dalton Moore.” After tossing a few cosmetics into the bag, she zipped it closed and brushed her hair before heading down the stairs. With Blossom nipping playfully at the strap on the luggage, Chesney nearly slipped and fell the rest of the way down the stairs. She nearly collided with Dalton in the parlor.

“Yes, you look cute in shorts and T-shirts. And paint,” he smiled. “But this is the second time in only a few days when I’ve seen you wear a dress. You look very nice. You look like you will fit right in when you get to the Big Apple.” His eyes traveled quickly over her hair, which fell in long loose curls past her shoulders. He then scanned her muscular, tan legs. Chesney pretended not to see Dalton’s long stare.

“I’ll feed Blossom while you’re away,” Dalton reminded as he carried Chesney’s bag outside to the porch.

“That will be great,” she said stiffly. “I'll be home in two days. Thanks again for your help, Dalton.”

“It’s not too late, you know,” Dalton said as he followed Chesney toward the car she rarely drove. “I would be happy to drive you to the airport if you’ve changed your mind.” It was maybe the third time he had offered since yesterday.

She smiled at the thought of spending nearly two hours with him during the drive north to the airport, two wonderful hours in the same vehicle with this beautiful man. But she didn't want to love that time alone with Dalton. She refused to develop more emotional attachment. She guessed that staying away from him more might be the only way to save herself from falling even deeper into all these odd feelings. Most of all, Chesney wanted to protect herself against more disappointment and humiliation. So she graciously refused his offer. “I’ll just leave my car at the airport, but thank you.” She opened the car door, tossed the bag into the backseat and drove down the lane, cursing herself for the stupid feelings in her chest.

She wanted Dalton Moore to kiss her good-bye before she left. How crazy was that? No matter how often she scolded herself about this situation, Chesney could not stop herself from waiting every morning for him to arrive. She still dreamed about him, still fought off those lusty thoughts. She wanted to be with him. She wanted him more every day.

When he could no longer see Chesney’s car as she slowly drove down the lane, Dalton sighed and brushed a couple of layers of sawdust off his shirt. He stood on the porch for a few more moments, soaking up the morning sun. He was left once again in her shadow, feeling disappointed. He wanted Chesney to allow him to drive her to the airport. During that two-hour drive, he intended to move past the countless discussions about tile and wainscoting, attic fans, wallpaper. He had hoped for an opportunity to show the spunky Ms. Blake the other side of who he is. But hell, Chesney shut him down once again. She wouldn’t give him a chance. She was so damn stubborn and so fiercely independent. Without a doubt, that beautiful little spitfire lived up to the stereotype of a person with red hair.

He smiled to himself and shook his head. Then he went back to work, intending to complete the library bookcase before Chez returned from New York. He loved how her face lit up with a wonderfully simple kind of joy. Every time either of them completed a project, Chesney reacted that way. He sometimes thought about grabbing her and kissing her during one of those celebratory moments. But he knew better than to surprise the hothead in that way. Chesney would probably slap him. He knew damn well that she saw him admire her clothing and her lovely body. He certainly made it obvious enough. But she wouldn’t budge. He didn’t know what else to do. So Dalton made a conscious effort to clear the image of his sexy employer from his mind.

While he measured and cut shelves from the wood, Dalton bantered back and forth in his head. He would never confess this fact to another human being. But yes, he stretched two-day projects into two weeks. He did it so he could spend more time at Chesney Ridge. He thought about Chesney all day. Well, that was an understatement. He didn’t only think about Chesney Blake, he ached for her. It was a terrible situation. But at the same time, Dalton could not remember when he last felt so sure of his heart. One moment he was frightened of being rejected by her. But a moment later, he could convince himself that fate was at work. He just needed some patience.

One of these days, the perfect time would come around. The perfect words would eloquently leave his mouth. And the perfect woman would suddenly realize that she wanted her handyman to be much more than a friend. He tried to find moments to somehow be closer to her, but Chesney sprinted right past his attempts. Every time he tried to help her, such as offering to climb a ladder so she didn’t have to, Chesney drop kicked his damn manhood and handed it to him with a smile. Yesterday he finally offered a dinner invitation and when she flatly refused, Dalton was crushed.

“Any other guy would get the point,” he muttered under his breath as he again fired up the saw to cut the shelves. “But not me. I don’t have enough sense to walk away and forget about her.”

At the end of the day, Dalton loaded a few tools in the back of his truck. As he made his way home, he wondered where Chesney might be and what she was doing at this exact moment. He thought about Becca’s promise, that Chesney was indeed interested in him. If that was true, then Chesney was playing the worst game of hard-to-get. Since that early summer day when day he laid eyes on that sweet face, Dalton knew he was in over his head. At first, he was amused by Chesney’s actions and odd little quirks. Every time he recalled unusual moments, such as the day she angrily threw her cell phone into the yard then fell through the porch, he laughed out loud. He was crazy about Chesney Blake’s colorful spirit.

Working to renovate this beautiful old homestead was as important to him as it was to Chesney, but he never dared to share that fact. She might ask too many questions. At first, Dalton fought the realization that he felt a lot more than amusement for Chesney. Of course he hadn’t planned for that to happen, at least not so quickly, anyway. He made all kinds of efforts to get past the growing feelings. But Chesney Blake and her impossible attitude dug into his heart like a tick. When she wasn’t excited about the trip to New York, he was thrilled. Since she wasn’t happy about leaving Bean Blossom, it meant she would be back.

Sometimes when they were together, Dalton felt something stir in the air between them. It was an odd kind of recognition, covered up with warmth. It felt like the moment he found a toy from childhood, after believing for years that it was lost. That’s the way Dalton felt about Chesney. He had waited for her for such a long time. In the kitchen, he occasionally caught her gaze as she offered coffee. When they passed each other on the stairs or when she acted as his assistant, handing him nails while he stood on the ladder, some type of static was there.

Well, at least it was there for him.

If Chesney felt it too, she certainly hid her emotions well. Most of the time, she seemed so open and fun-loving. She snuggled her puppy and talked baby talk to Blossom, which made Dalton laugh with her. She seemed to love silliness. He enjoyed watching her giggle and laugh hysterically with Becca. Most of the time she was amazingly creative and full of energy, too, but there were other times when Chesney built a thick wall around her heart. Dalton never knew when the wall would be present. He never knew exactly why she felt a need to build it. And he never knew how long Chesney would decide to hide behind that wall, either. When he made a small effort to move closer to her, Chesney jumped behind the invisible wall and stayed there until he went away.

Chesney’s wall kept Dalton awake at night, worried that it might never be crumbled. There was a definite hurt in her eyes, mixed occasionally with an empty stare filled with loss. Her passion for restoring her grandmother’s house and the land surrounding it made Dalton deeply proud of her. He was in love with watching Chesney love her home. He had to admit though that he sometimes questioned his sanity. Maybe he shouldn’t hope to build a relationship with a woman who was so good at running away. But when Dalton considered the possibility of letting her go before he had even tried his best to be with her, he couldn’t breathe. Somehow he had to win her over, he had to show her that he was nothing at all like the other men in her life. Now in his mid-thirties, Dalton knew a lot about himself. He spent the time necessary to understand his own needs.

Through the years, he had dated many women. All types of women. He had even loved a few, like Joanna, for instance. When they met in a Boston coffee shop, he was drawn to her beautiful smile. She was a busy, snappy, corporate attorney, working hard to make partner at one of the largest firms in the city. She was a cat lover who jogged four miles every morning before the sun came up. She lived on espresso, yogurt and sushi and loved to watch British comedies. They were polar opposites, which made it fun for a while, to spend time with her. But Joanna would never consider a move from Boston to Bean Blossom. Dalton gently ended the relationship.

He already knew that the lifestyle of the city, any city, was not for him. He knew in his heart that when the time was right, he would return to Bean Blossom. Life in Boston was loud and boisterous and stressful. Dalton’s one constant was the promise he intended to keep for his future. He would not stay there. A few months after moving back to the country, he decided to give love a try. After all, he was a wonderful judge of character and realized that certain types of women would happily reside here in this little berg in the hills. Women who loved life in the country weren’t usually fashionista types. They were often creative and happy with themselves. They were committed to their own goals, but remained interested as well, in their men. With those assumptions in mind, Dalton met a cheerful woman named Mary. They chatted near the front entrance to the library and he invited her to dinner. Mary lived twenty miles north in a small rented house with her two young sons. Mary loved to talk and stayed busy with her fairly successful catering business. Her kids were well behaved and Dalton even enjoyed participating a few times in family activities with Mary and her children. But when the outings ended and they had to deal with the real stuff, the day-to-day grind, he knew he had to move on.

He had no doubt that well-meaning Mary would bring unwanted drama to Bean Blossom. Her jealous ex-husband, Raymond, often caused problems during weekend visits with their sons. Raymond occasionally drank too much, which led Mary to call the police. Nah, Dalton didn’t want to be a guest on Jerry Springer. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t want to marry into those kinds of headaches.