April Showers Page 14

  “It is. But that’s not where we’re going.” Well, not exactly. He turned onto the dirt drive that wove back toward the lake.

  “You look suspiciously proud of yourself, Sebastian Bennington, and I find that makes me nervous.”

  He glanced over at her, yet nothing about her looked nervous. Her eyes sparkled and her smile was broad enough he could tell she was enjoying the surprise. “Now, why would my being proud make you nervous?”

  “Because it’s kind of a cat-that-swallowed-the-canary sort of pride. And while the cat had every reason to be proud, the canary...”

  “So I’m the cat and you’re the canary?” he asked innocently.

  She chuckled. “Let me say tweet, tweet in response.”

  He refused to humor her by meowing and was saved the embarrassment as he parked at the Nieses’ cottage.

  “I thought you said we weren’t coming here,” she said skeptically.

  “Hang on.” He got out of the car and pulled out a picnic basket from the trunk. A real wicker basket. He saw her staring at it and offered, “It’s Hank’s. He used to say taking a woman to a restaurant doesn’t show any particular investment. But if you pack her a picnic, she knows you gave it some thought and put some effort into it.”

  “You packed the basket?” Lily sounded unconvinced.

  “Who else?”

  “Someone at the diner?” she asked.

  He scoffed, “No. I packed it myself. I went to the grocery store on my way home and shopped.”

  “Hank’s right about the picnic versus restaurant. I’m impressed.”

  “Wait until you taste it before deciding.” He carried the basket with a blanket on top in his right hand. Part of him wanted to reach out and hold her hand. But he knew he couldn’t manage the basket with his left hand and he didn’t want that hand holding hers. He knew it was irrational. Lily was a nurse. She hadn’t even blinked at the scars. Still, he didn’t want to hold hands with it.

  He thought of the boys’ assessment this afternoon—gross but cool. He still didn’t reach for her hand, but he did feel better as they walked in companionable silence. Okay, it wasn’t exactly silence. They weren’t talking, that was true, but noises abounded. The sound of the lake’s waves beating against the rocky cliffs, which comprised most of the shoreline on this stretch of water. Birds calling. There was enough of a breeze that he could hear the leaves and grasses being blown about.

  He stopped at a particular bluff.

  “This is where we met,” Lily said with no hint of fondness.

  “Yes, this is where we had our first, infamous meeting. I thought maybe we should erase that less-than-stellar introduction and replace it with a better memory.”

  She smiled. “That’s a nice idea.”

  He spread the blanket, opened a bottle of wine from Colton’s winery. They sat and ate the pasta salad and cold fried chicken. He kept glancing at Lily. She seemed content, sipping her wine and watching the lake.

  He stared out at the water, as well. He’d looked at Lake Erie from many points. From Erie’s bay and from Presque Isle, the peninsula there. From Cleveland’s lakefront. From Buffalo. From Freeport Beach in North East. From Put-in-Bay in Ohio. Each vantage point had its own particular appeal. But the view from this bluff was his hands-down favorite.

  He focused on the woman sitting next to him and realized that now it would hold an even bigger attraction...it would remind him of Lily Paul.

  “This was my spot, growing up,” he offered. “When I was away, I’d dream about this view. It was always a day like this. A warm spring evening. Windy enough that the sound of the waves breaking against the rocks below carried. But not too blustery. In my dreams, I’d sit here and watch the sunset, like I’ve done a hundred times.”

  “That’s comforting,” she said as she looked out over the lake.

  “It was.” He didn’t mention that suddenly, sitting here with her, he wasn’t nearly as captivated by the view of the lake as he was by the view of the woman next to him. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Pardon?” she asked with that prim-and-proper tone that she’d used before, much to his delight.

  “That’s how it goes with friends,” he instructed, smiling. “Friends take turns sharing. And the way I see it, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  “You’ve only told me one thing.”

  “But Hank told you hundreds of stories.”

  “Doesn’t count. Those were his stories—his memories—he shared. So they don’t count for you.” Her eyes crinkled as she instructed him.

  “Fine,” he agreed. “But you owe me one, at least.”

  “Fine.”

  He watched as she thought, searching for something she would share. He suspected she was searching for something that wasn’t too personal. Despite her smile and her ever-present optimism, Lily Paul was a closed book.

  “Here goes. I grew up reading books.”

  He almost laughed that even as he was thinking she was a closed book that was what she opted to share. She read books? Not a deep insight. “Come on, Lily.”

  “Hey, if you’re going to complain about what I share, I’ll stop.”

  “Continue.” She wasn’t just a closed book...she was like one of those diaries Finn’s sister, Bridget, used to keep. The kind with the strap that locked, so prying brothers and their friends couldn’t read it.

  Of course, they’d learned to pick the lock, but really, Bridget hadn’t said much other than that boys were exasperating and little tidbits about her life. There had been no huge secrets or drama.

  Lily kept her attention on the lake. “I learned pretty much everything I hold dear from books. I learned to be inquisitive from Trixie Belden.” She turned, maybe to gauge his reaction to what she was revealing.

  He must have looked lost because she clarified, “Trixie Belden was a teenage sleuth. She solved mysteries, dealt with brothers, memorized license plates, learned to ride horses at her friend Honey’s house.”

  “Do you ride?” he asked.

  “No, but let’s see, where was I? Reading. Helen Keller taught me that no matter what the obstacle, with perseverance it can be conquered. Lazarus Long taught me that family isn’t necessarily made up of the people you’re related to. You can make your family.”

  “Is that it?” He didn’t have a clue who Lazarus Long was, but he didn’t ask. She was on a roll, and he wanted nothing more than to have her continue.

  “And Bilbo and Frodo Baggins...they taught me that even if you’re small and not up to the journey, you have to do your best and put one foot in front of the other. I think I learned the most from the Hobbits. There’s this poem in the books. It’s about how the road goes on and on. In the first version, Tolkien talks about pursuing it with ‘eager feet.’ In a later version, he talks about ‘weary feet.’ I understand that. When I left home, I was eager to get away—to be anywhere else but there. And right before I came to Valley Ridge, my feet were indeed weary. I didn’t like the anonymity of the city. I wanted to be somewhere people knew me and I knew them. I wanted to build a community.”

  “A family,” he said with clear insight.

  “Yes. I know you accused me of glomming on to Hank with ulterior motives. Maybe I did. I see in your grandfather everything I wanted growing up. He was kind when I moved in. He’d invite me in for a cup of coffee some mornings. As Bridget got sicker, I stayed over at her house most nights. One day, he asked if I’d call when I wasn’t coming home because he worried about me.

  “You don’t know what that’s like—having someone worry about you in that sense. He was lonely, and so was I. He was a friend at first, but now he’s become family to me. The kind of family who would never abandon you. I know it sounds dumb, but—”

  He took her hand. “It’s not dumb at all. I had a family of sorts in the marines. Not the family I was born to, but they were still family. I know if any one of my buddies called me even now and said, ‘I need you,’ I’d do everything I could
to be there. I have the same relationship with Colton and Finn.”

  “So now you know something about me. Though I’m not convinced that it matters.”

  “It matters,” he said.

  She looked uncomfortable, as if regretting she’d shared anything with him.

  If it bothered her that much to tell him about books she read, he wondered what other stories she had that she hadn’t spoken of. And more than ever, he wondered where she came from. Her yearning for a family, for someone like Hank, was so strong. She’d obviously never had anything like that. And that broke his heart.

  “Do you know Maeve Buchanan?” he asked.

  She smiled and the lake breeze caught her wild hair, blowing it across her face. She brushed it aside, which was probably good because he’d almost done it for her and he wasn’t sure she’d welcome his touch, even if they were friendlier now.

  “Sure, I know Maeve,” she said. “She comes into the diner sometimes.”

  “She was like you,” he told her. “Always had her nose stuck in a book. However, she spent so much time in the principal’s office that it always seemed like an anomaly.”

  “People are complex. My job has taught me that. If you look deep enough, you can find something to admire in almost everyone. When I worked at the hospital, it was sort of a game I played, especially if I had difficult patients.”

  “How?”

  “Well, there was one woman who threw her cane at me, then tried to punch me. As I called for help, I found myself thinking, Wow, she’s got great teeth. They were all pearly and white. Of course, a moment after that thought, she tried to bite me with those pretty teeth.”

  She was staring at the lake again as she told her story, and that allowed him to study her. As she talked about the patient with pretty teeth trying to bite her, she laughed, not out loud, but with her eyes. Those laugh lines grew more intense and seemed to say everything.

  She didn’t seem to notice he looked at her as much if not more than he looked at the lake. He’d always found Lake Erie fascinating, but he had to admit he found Lily Paul even more so.

  He pointed at the water. “It’s almost sunset. Finn used to work with this doctor and he’d visit Valley Ridge. He came once with his kid Aaron, and we spent a day at Colton’s farm. He started bugging his dad to hurry to the lake, though, because tonight might be the night. When Colton, or maybe Finn, asked what night, the doctor said his wife used to tell them that if you’re quiet enough, you can hear the sun hiss as it hits the water.”

  Lily laughed. “I love it. Maybe we’ll get lucky tonight.”

  She reached out for his hand as the sun sank nearer and nearer to the horizon. Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if she didn’t want to take a chance of missing the hiss. “Did they ever hear it?”

  “Aaron said no. Then his father said that’s half the fun...they keep on trying.”

  He and Lily sat on the cliff, watching the sun continue to sink closer to the point where the water and the sky seemed to meet. Sebastian let go of her hand and hesitantly put his arm around Lily’s shoulders.

  But she didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned in closer.

  It always amazed him how quickly the sun sank the last few inches. One moment, it sat just above the water’s edge; the next, it was almost touching.

  “There,” Lily whispered, then held her breath as if she might really hear a hiss and cocked her head as if to get a little closer.

  The sun sank and she breathed in. “Well, I didn’t hear it. Did you?”

  There was a sense of hope in her voice.

  He laughed. “No. I guess we’ll have to try again sometime.”

  She nodded and looked up at him. “I’d like that.”

  The wind whipped a piece of her hair up again, but this time, since she sat so close, it brushed across his face. She reached up and brushed it off for him. Her finger ran lightly across his lips, then she froze.

  He did, too.

  Their eyes met as they sat there, staring at each other. He eventually breathed in because he realized he’d forgotten to. And when he leaned down to kiss her, there was no question in his mind that she was receptive, just as there was no question in his mind that he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted this moment.

  It was a gentle kiss. An introduction as much as any of the stories they’d shared with each other.

  Sebastian could have kept kissing her for a long time—maybe indefinitely—but she pulled back. She didn’t look happy. He couldn’t tell if her expression was thoughtful or annoyed. “Lily, I’m sor—”

  “Shh,” Lily informed him. “We kissed. And you were either going to say, Wow, Lily, I’m sure that kiss rocked my world or Wow, I sure didn’t feel that kiss. Either of those are acceptable. But if you were to apologize for that kiss, that would not be acceptable. Kissing me either worked or it didn’t, but it’s not something you’re sorry for.”

  “I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he explained. “I don’t know who I am or where I’m going, and I would never want to lead you on—”

  She laughed. “Wait, answer this...it rocked, or it didn’t?”

  He couldn’t help it—he laughed, too. “It rocked.”

  “Then no problem. I meant what I said before. I’m not looking to ever settle down. I’m loving helping Sophie with her wedding, but I have no desire in that regard. However, I wouldn’t mind a...” She looked for a word. “A tryst.”

  “Webster,” he teased.

  “It’s a good word. And it implies a secret meeting. And that’s what I’d want. I don’t want to date in the open. I don’t want people in town knowing.”

  Well, talk about keeping him in his place. “Wait, are you embarrassed—”

  “Don’t be an ass. But I know how it is with small towns. One minute we’re dating, and the next they have us walking down an aisle. And the only aisle I plan to walk down is the one Sophie’s going to be married at the end of. So what I’d like is...”

  “A tryst?” he finished for her.

  She nodded. “A no-strings, not-meant-to-last-long tryst.”

  He nodded. “I’m leaving after the wedding.”

  “And I’m staying.”

  Sebastian should have been thrilled. After all, having a woman who wanted nothing more than a tryst, who said she never desired a long-term relationship, was almost every single guy’s dream. And he understood where she was coming from. He’d dated women throughout his career, but he hadn’t been looking for anything like what Colton and Sophie had. Simple and uncomplicated—that was how he liked his relationships.

  And yet, something about Lily’s willingness to enter into a tryst with him made him uneasy. Not because he didn’t want her, but because...

  Well, hell, he had no idea why. He felt that Lily deserved the kind of relationship Sophie had with Colton, but if that wasn’t what she wanted...

  “It’s getting dark,” she said, interrupting his whirling thoughts.

  They gathered up the remnants of their picnic and headed back to the car. “That was the best first date I’ve ever had,” he told her.

  * * *

  LILY COULDN’T HAVE been more pleased about the way their date had gone. “Me, too,” she assured Sebastian.

  They rode in silence to the house, but Lily felt abuzz with anticipation. She was confident that Sebastian would be amenable to what she was going to suggest. “You want to come in?”

  They both knew what she was asking. Sebastian said, “More than anything.”

  She felt giddy, young, as if something new and special was about to happen. “Hurry?” she asked.

  “Hurry,” he agreed.

  They dashed from the car, around the house, to the small door at the back of Hank’s house. She unlocked the door.

  “I’ve just realized I’ve never been to your place before.”

  “I’ll confess I don’t invite people over.” That, too, was a leftover of her childhood. She knew it, but still, it didn’t alter
the fact that she didn’t invite people into her personal space. Not even Sophie and Mattie. She went to their homes or Colton’s farm. She visited at the coffee shop. Saw them at the diner, but not here.

  And the few men she’d dated had not been invited to her house. Ever.

  The thought of having someone over should be making her a bit crazed, but all she could think of was getting Sebastian into her bedroom...into her bed.

  She opened the door of the small efficiency apartment and stepped in, reaching for the lamp...and squished.

  “What...” She flipped on the light switch and looked down. “There’s water everywhere.”

  She sprinted to the kitchenette at the other side of the room. “Nothing here.”

  “It’s coming from here.” He pointed to where the water was seeping from under the bathroom door. “Do you mind?”

  “Please.”

  He opened the door to the bathroom and it didn’t take a plumber to see what the problem was. Water dripped from the ceiling.

  Lily knew that directly over her bathroom was Hank’s bathroom. There was another separate bathroom in the hall that served the other two bedrooms.

  They both rushed toward the door to the main house.

  “Hank?” Sebastian called as he sprinted up the porch stairs.

  Lily followed and was relieved when she saw Hank standing at the top of the stairs. “Sebastian, what’s wrong?”

  Sebastian zoomed past him, heading for Hank’s bathroom. “It’s the tub,” he said. Lily watched as he turned off the taps.

  “Did the faucet break?” Hank asked.

  “No,” Sebastian called.

  “No, Hank, you didn’t turn the water off,” Lily said gently.

  The older man bristled. “I’m sure it wasn’t me.”

  “It’s in the master bathroom, Hank,” Sebastian said as he came over to them. “Your bathroom.”

  “But I—” Hank walked to the doorway and looked at the water that pooled at the wall opposite the tub. It was obvious that was where it was leaking down into Lily’s bathroom.

  “It’s okay, Hank,” Lily said. “It’s only some water. We’ll get it all fixed up soon enough.” She turned to Sebastian. “Why don’t you work up here and I’ll start cleaning downstairs? If you can get the water off the floor here, at least it will stop raining in my place.”