Sweet Tomorrows (10 page)

Despite what he said, he didn't move and neither did I. The silence was companionable.

“I apologize for the way I acted when I saw you on my property,” he said.

This man was full of surprises. Like he'd done with me earlier, I shrugged off his apology.

“If you want to run through the orchard, then feel free.”

I had to struggle to keep from smiling, grateful he'd changed his mind. “Thank you. I've enjoyed getting to know Elvis.”

On hearing his name, the German shepherd lifted his head.

Nick stood, ready to be on his way. “Come on, Elvis.”

The pooch remained curled up.

“Elvis.” The demand in Nick's voice was unmistakable.

“Doesn't look like he's quite ready yet. Stay a few minutes longer,” I urged.

“You're tired.”

“I enjoy sitting here with you.” I probably shouldn't have told him that, but Nick sat back down.

“Are you going to mention my late-night walks to the owner?” he asked.

“Probably.” Then I added, “But knowing Jo Marie, she won't mind. And if she does, I'll tell her you're like a security guard, making sure we're all safe.”

“Thanks.” He seemed genuinely grateful.

Seeing that I seemed to be in his good graces, I carefully broached the subject paramount on my mind. “It looks like the house renovations are coming along nicely.”

“It's coming.”

“Is the progress taking longer than you want?”

“Not necessarily. I'm not in any hurry. I've got the time and the patience.”

“You don't need to work?”

He shrugged off the question. “My mother was an only child and I came into a small inheritance when her parents passed. I'm taking a year to whip the house into shape; once I'm finished, I'll go back to construction.”

“You're a builder?”

He nodded. “General contractor.”

“So when you finish, what are your plans?”

“For what? The future?” He spoke with an edge, as if my question challenged him.

“For the house?” I pressed, unable to hide my curiosity.

“Don't know. I haven't decided that yet.”

As best I could, I hid my eagerness to suggest he sell it to me. “It's a beautiful home. I'm sure it'll make someone happy.”

“It's a good, solid house, that's for sure. My grandfather built it with his own hands after he returned from World War Two. He and my grandmother married before he shipped out to fight in Europe. My grandmother worked at the Bremerton shipyard doing secretarial work until my grandfather returned. They both saved their money and decided to build their own home. He made sure there would be enough room for the family they intended to have.”

“How many bedrooms are there?” I hoped my curiosity didn't give me completely away. I'd already mentioned that I was house hunting.

“Five. My dad was the middle child of the five. Three girls and two boys.”

“Wow, five kids.”

Nick nodded. “If I do sell it, and that's no guarantee, I hope it's to a young family.”

This wasn't what I wanted to hear. “Did your grandfather plant the orchard?” That was one of my favorite aspects of the property.

“No, it was there long before. At one time the land was homesteaded. Several of the trees are over a hundred years old and don't bear much fruit any longer. I plan to tear out the older, less productive trees and plant new ones, but that's several months down the road.”

The thought of losing any of those trees saddened me.

“Now it really is time for me to go,” he said with a yawn. “I'm dead on my feet.”

I was feeling much the same and unsuccessfully stifled my own yawn.

“You're serious about letting me run through your property?”

“Sure,” he returned casually. “I was wrong to have made such a fuss earlier.” He stood, and without complaint Elvis joined him.

I walked with him to the porch steps, covering my mouth as I yawned again. “It was good to talk to you, Nick.”

“Yeah, you, too.”

“Thanks…you know, for letting me use the orchard and everything else.”

He waved off my appreciation and disappeared into the night.

Standing on the top of the porch steps, I wrapped my arm around the white column. I watched Nick depart with Elvis leading the way. They reached the end of the driveway and both stopped, turned, and looked back.

I felt a bit foolish standing there, and to cover my discomfort I gave a short wave. Nick didn't return the gesture.

He was an enigma. At every meeting he seemed to be in a different mood. His anger during our first encounter had infuriated me. Later, the night I'd collected Rover from the tavern, he'd been protective, willing to take on the very devil himself on my behalf. And tonight…tonight I saw a different side of him. He seemed vulnerable, open, and decent.

Every meeting revealed a different layer of the man I was only beginning to get to know. Despite our awkward start, I liked Nick Schwartz, and that was reason enough for me to be concerned.

Nick didn't know what it was about Emily or how she'd found her way into his head. The woman was like a virus he couldn't shake. Despite his best efforts to push all thoughts of her aside, he'd been unsuccessful. He'd hoped banning her from his property would be the end of this fascination he had for her. He'd been wrong. If anything, it was worse than it was before. Not seeing her tormented him more than watching her run through his property ever had.

He found he missed seeing her the way a thirsty man missed a cold drink on a hundred-degree afternoon. Every morning he woke about the same time she once ran through the orchard. Every friggin' morning. If that wasn't bad enough, he went to the window as if he expected her to be there, as if she'd blatantly disregard his threat and trespass on his land. That wasn't likely, seeing that he'd done nothing short of threatening prosecution if she set foot on his property again.

Just when he thought he had a chance of getting her out of his head, what happened? She showed up at A Horse with No Name on the Fourth of July, when the place was crowded with bikers and other lowlifes. He'd gone there every night for a week, never having the courage to step inside, shaking at the thought of being out in public for fear of a panic attack. And then Emily had shown up and parked two cars down from him. He knew right away this wasn't a place she should be, and he followed her inside. The minute he saw the biker approach her, he knew she was in trouble and instinct took over.

Nick had no clue what he was thinking when he squared off with Lucifer, the VP of the Washington-based motorcycle club; he didn't even want to guess. It'd been a crazy thing to do. He was lucky to walk away with his liver intact.

Then, to top it off, Emily had found him wandering around the inn like some stalker. He'd made a complete ass of himself. The shock of seeing her rush out the kitchen door and confront him in the middle of the night had left him speechless.

At first he hadn't known what to think, and he assumed she was the inn's proprietor. He should have realized she wasn't from the sign that clearly stated Jo Marie Rose's name. It was a relief to find out Emily was a guest. A boarder, she'd explained. He didn't know B&Bs took boarders, and naturally it would be Emily, the one woman he would do anything to avoid. This was just the way his luck ran.

Elvis certainly had taken a liking to her. Some guard dog the German shepherd had turned out to be. Normally, he wasn't a dog who took kindly to strangers. What made his acceptance of Emily more compelling was the fact that the dog had been well trained to guard and protect. No one walked more than a few feet within Nick's property without Elvis baring his teeth.

Why Emily was the exception was beyond understanding. His one thought was that he'd unconsciously transmitted his own attraction to her onto the dog. Which sounded crazy, and he wondered if that was even possible.

Sure as the sun rose, Nick was awake at about six, despite the fact that he'd had less than three hours of sleep. More by instinct than certainty, he walked over to the bedroom window that offered a view of the orchard. Predictably, Elvis was there, patiently waiting for Emily.

She didn't disappoint.

Nick watched as Emily slowed her pace when she saw Elvis. She braced her hands on her knees and drew in several breaths while she spoke to the dog. Then she got down on one knee and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Seeing her tenderness with Elvis, Nick stepped away from the window, angry and frustrated.

It wasn't until he brewed a cup of coffee and was ready to start his day that he realized he was jealous. Yes, jealous of a dog. A man couldn't go much lower than that.

By noon, Nick had worked up a sweat. He had sawhorses set up on the stripped kitchen floor. The installation of the new cabinets was almost finished. The next step would be the countertops and then the floor. He wanted marble for the countertops but couldn't justify the expense, even with his contractor's discount.

He was about to stop for lunch when Elvis let out a loud bark. It wasn't one of warning or protection. It was a happy, welcoming bark. Nick set aside the measuring tape and left the kitchen to investigate.

It was Emily. Right away his pulse accelerated. He met her on the porch.

“Hey,” he said, fighting to disguise how pleased he was to see her.

“Hey.” She seemed nervous and abruptly thrust out the plate in her hands. “I baked cookies this morning.”

She appeared to be offering them to him. He blinked and looked at the plate, which was piled high with what looked like oatmeal-raisin.

“They're for you,” she insisted, gesturing for him to take them.

“Why?” He tucked his hands in his back pockets in an effort to resist touching her.

She moistened her bottom lip, something he'd noticed she did when nervous. After their early-morning discussion he was surprised by the awkwardness between them. He could sense her hesitation and could feel his own, although he couldn't explain it.

“It's my way of thanking you for letting me run on the property again. I love the orchard, and running under the trees offers me shade.”

“No need to thank me.”

“I know I didn't need to, but I wanted to. Now, are you going to accept the cookies or are you going to leave me standing here holding this plate, feeling foolish?”

He grinned and took the cookies, which he had to admit looked damn good.

“I hope you like oatmeal-raisin.”

“I'm not picky when it comes to homemade cookies.” He stared down at the plate, breathing in the warm scent of oatmeal and raisins. “Like I said, you didn't need to do this. It isn't hurting me any to let you run through the orchard, and Elvis seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“I like him, too. He's a wonderful dog.”

Anyone else who dared to cross his land wasn't likely to agree, but he didn't mention that.

“I missed seeing Elvis.”

“He missed you, too.” As Nick had. The view he had of her each morning, her body slim and perfect, with her arms and legs tan and athletic, got to him. She stirred his blood, reminding him he was alive. He hadn't thought that was possible after last year, after the death of his brother.

“Would you like one?” he asked, setting the plate down on the folding table he'd placed on the porch.

“No thanks. What I would like is to see what you're doing in the house…that is, if you don't mind showing me.” Her beautiful dark eyes were wide and hopeful.

“It's pretty much a mess right now.”

“That's fine. I'll be careful and watch my step.”

How eager she sounded. “All right, but I have a long way to go to make this place presentable.”

“I consider myself warned.” Her eyes flashed with excitement as he led her into the house.

Nick held open the kitchen door for her to precede him and then followed her inside. Halfway into the room, she paused, looking around, seeming to take in every detail.

“It's huge.” Her voice filled with awe.

Nick nodded. “My grandmother insisted on a large kitchen, and she needed it. She canned food from their garden for the winter and fruit from the trees. While they had a formal dining room, she wanted space enough for the family to gather together for the evening meal. Dad told me she was a real stickler about them eating as a family every night. That was a priority.”

“Too many families have abandoned the habit these days,” Emily commented as she continued to survey the room and ran her hand over the top of the cabinet he was about to install. “New cabinets?”

“The old ones were in pretty bad shape.”

“These are perfect. You chose well.”

“Thanks.”

As if hard-pressed to take her eyes away from the kitchen, she asked, “Are there any rooms where you've completed the renovations?”

He'd done quite a bit of work in the living room. “In here,” he said and showed her down the hallway to the living room. “The oak mantel around the fireplace is new, as are the curio cabinets beside it.”

“Oh Nick,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is magnificent.”

Her admiration pleased him.

She turned to look at him. “You did this all on your own?”

“Yes.”

She sounded surprised, as if it seemed impossible one man could have completed the task.

Her praise flattered him and he had to admit he was proud of the work he'd done on the house. “I did carpentry work from the time I was a teenager, working with my dad and…brother.”

Her gaze flew to his and he saw sympathy in her eyes.

She knew.

Somehow she knew; he couldn't help but wonder how much. Thankfully, she didn't mention Brad, and he sure as hell wouldn't, either. Nick didn't want her pity. He didn't invite it from her or anyone else. Seeing the compassion in her embarrassed him and he wanted her gone.

“Thanks for the cookies,” he said, abruptly dismissing her.

She blinked as if the change in his attitude confused her.

“I need to get back to work,” he explained, hoping that would suffice. “I don't have time to be giving tours.”

“Of course,” she said.

He could tell she was disappointed and he regretted that, but he wasn't about to wade into a conversation regarding what happened to his brother. Not with Emily. Not with anyone.

“Thanks for showing me around. You do beautiful work.” Her smile was forced, but her words felt genuine.

He acknowledged the compliment with a swift nod, and when she hesitated, looking around her, he left the room, leaving her little option but to follow.

“The inside of the house is much bigger than I imagined,” she said from behind him.

Nick opened the outside door and offered her his hand. “Watch your step.”

“I will.”

She took his hand and he immediately felt a connection with her that was more than the physical. From the way her gaze shot to his, he knew she'd felt it, too. For an uncomfortably long moment they stared at each other, their hands clasped together as though forged into one.

Emily slowly withdrew her hand. Nick dropped his as well as his brain went into overdrive in an effort to understand what had just happened. It didn't seem possible that a simple touch could turn into a physical connection that went far beyond holding hands.

It felt as if her heart had reached out to his, as though in recognizing his pain and loss she'd revealed her own. That brought up the question of what had happened in her life. Had she, too, suffered horrific loss? While there was this undeniable connection, and recognition of shared loss, there was more…and it was physical. Nick felt intense longing and desire, both of which he hadn't experienced in over a year. And when it came, it hit with a punch. He nearly took a step back, retreating at the unexpectedness of it.

Over the years Nick had been in plenty of relationships. He was nearing thirty and had had his fair share of women. Not a single one had affected him to the extent Emily had. He didn't know what was happening, the why of it, the reason. The one thing he did know was that now wasn't a good time for him to get involved, not when he was dealing with all this personal crap. He was in no shape, emotionally or otherwise, to have a woman in his life. And yet he wanted her the way a starving man looks at a Thanksgiving feast. The shock of it nearly caused him to gasp aloud.

“Maybe I'll see you again,” she said, her gaze burning into his.

“Maybe.” He didn't encourage her one way or the other. He wasn't sure being anywhere close to her was a good idea, especially in light of what he was feeling. At the same time, he worried he wouldn't be able to stay away.

“You know,” she continued, “sometimes at night if I'm awake…I could meet you on the porch.”

Not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. The two of them alone, sitting in the dark. All he could think about was holding her in his arms, kissing her, loving her, burying his body in hers.