Truths and Roses Page 6

  “Yes, it was.”

  Hal cleared his throat again. “Ah, I wondered if you might be free next weekend.”

  It had been a long time since that particular question had been asked of her. She’d been asked out plenty of times the first couple of years of college. By classmates. Even a professor or two. Several of whom had accused her of playing hard to get when she’d turned them down. Eventually, though, her constant refusals took root, and guys stopped asking. She now wondered if Hal’s invitation stemmed from the fact that last night had been the first social gathering she’d attended in years, or if it had something to do with her being seen with Will Kincaid.

  “Thank you for asking, Hal, but—”

  “Would some other time be better?” he asked uncertainly.

  “Ah, no, I don’t think so.” She looked down at her hands and then met his questioning gaze. “But I do appreciate your asking.”

  Hal stood there, studying her for a moment before saying, “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  And with that, he’d turned and left the library, leaving the book on the front desk.

  Hannah pulled her coat tight against the late February chill, and set out for her car, coming to a halt when she noticed Will’s Cherokee again parked beside her.

  He got out of the vehicle and headed toward her, the breeze ruffling his slightly wavy blonde hair. Odd how wonderful a man could look in faded blue jeans and a worn leather jacket. She flushed at the realization of how glad she was to see him. Her voice quavered a little when she said, “Will, I—I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I wanted to talk with you.”

  “I’m afraid I have to go.” She tried to sidestep him, but he reached out for her arm and pulled her to a stop.

  “Just a minute, Hannah.” The request soft and cajoling. “I think it’s something you’ll be interested in.”

  She sighed. “I thought I’d made it clear last night that it would be best if we didn’t see each other. I don’t want everyone in town to think—”

  “Who cares what everyone thinks?”

  The question sounded so reasonable that she had trouble finding a reply. “You don’t have to live here.”

  “Okay. But what if it’s for a good cause?” he asked with an engaging grin.

  “What kind of good cause?” she asked, suspicious.

  He folded his arms and shivered. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go for a drive, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  The request sounded simple enough. And for anyone else, under any other circumstances, it might have been. But she still felt compelled to say, “If this is some kind of—”

  “It’s not a ploy to get you to come with me.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” she said, feeling foolish.

  “Yes, you were. So don’t deny it.”

  With a sigh, she looked at him and smiled in spite of herself. Will Kincaid, with his lighthearted approach to life, was hard to say no to. Certain she would live to regret the impulse, she said, “All right, I’ll come.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A few minutes later, they were headed out of town, racing past the new pizza place and Tate’s Gas & Go, past fields ready to be planted and construction signs announcing the development of soon-to-come subdivisions on the lake. Thus far, they had driven in silence.

  Hannah searched for words. “Did you get your car fixed?”

  “It’s in the shop. Had it sent up to the city. But to be honest, I’d rather be driving this old thing.” Will flipped on the radio, and a song she hadn’t heard in years crooned through the speakers.

  “Remember that one?” Will asked with a smile of nostalgia.

  She nodded and said, “If Aunt Sarah had heard me listening to that, I would have been in big trouble.”

  He chuckled. “Seems pretty tame now, huh?”

  “Yeah, I guess it does,” she said. Nonetheless, the suggestive lyrics had her shifting in her seat, glad when the DJ came on and announced that the weather would remain much the same over the next few days, brisk and sunny. She sat with her hands clasped in her lap, gazing out the window. What had Will been talking about? A part of her had responded to the excitement in his voice minutes earlier, while another part of her had wondered if this little outing was an attempt to save Hannah Jacobs from herself. The latter thought won out. “It may not look that way, Will, but I really don’t need your help in filling my days. I’m-”

  “Perfectly happy the way you are,” he supplied, taking his eyes off the road long enough to level a look of disbelief at her. “Right. You’re about as happy as I am. It’s pretty pathetic, you know. You at twenty-eight, me at twenty-nine and apparently all washed up.”

  She gave a small gasp. “I never said any such thing about myself.”

  “You didn’t have to say it. I’m not blind.”

  She crossed her arms and stared out the window. “I don’t have to listen to this. Just because you aren’t happy with your life—”

  “You’re right. You don’t have to listen to it. I’ve had my lecture today. The last thing I meant to do was give you one. I’m sorry. That’s not why I wanted to see you.”

  She studied the mats on the floorboard. “Then why?”

  He drove with one hand, resting the other on his injured knee, massaging it with his thumb. “The other night you mentioned the bookmobile was no longer operating.”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought maybe I could help you get it into operation again.”

  Hannah turned to stare at him, momentarily speechless. “What?”

  He cleared his throat and flexed his hand against the steering wheel. “I thought we could come up with some sort of fund-raising drive.”

  “You’d do that?”

  He shrugged. “It was a good thing for kids. Shame to let it go that way.”

  “I thought so, too,” she said with a hesitant nod. “But why would you…”

  He made a pretense of brushing some stubborn speck of dirt from his jeans. “I’ll be here a little longer. I might as well do something worthwhile with my time.”

  “I don’t know what to say. It’s a very generous offer.”

  He focused on the landscape flashing by his window. “Not really. I have the time right now.”

  “I’m sure there are other things you could be doing.”

  “If you’re not interested….”

  “No, of course I am. I just….”

  He pinned her with his gaze. “You’re surprised.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “Maybe a little.”

  “Then join the crowd. I might have just thrown myself a curve.”

  She tried to attribute the warm feeling of pleasure spreading through her to Will’s generosity and nothing else. “What did…when did you want to start working on it?”

  “Why not this afternoon? We could go down to Tarkington’s Cove, order a pizza and throw around a few ideas. Sound okay?”

  The offer was so unexpected she found herself responding without thought. “All right. That sounds good.” And with the warmth his responding smile sent through her, she forgot all about her vow to stay away from Will Kincaid.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Without a doubt, Tarkington’s Cove qualified as Lake Perdue’s crown jewel. From critics, the development had drawn such praise as, “Real vision. Unsurpassed. Nothing else like it on the east coast.”

  From the beginning, most people said the developer had outdone himself and then some. Others said he’d overextended and was bound to go under. But regardless of what anybody said, the development was a masterpiece. No one could deny that. The road leading to the resort wound past fields of grazing cows and sloped gently up at just the right point so that when a car topped the knoll, the whole development came into view at once. And there was no better word than majestic to describe it.

  Hannah took it all in now as the Cherokee made its way to the cobblestone entrance. An old brick house built in 187
2 had been converted to a clubhouse, which sat by an Olympic-size swimming pool. Tennis courts had been laid out to accommodate professional tournaments. A marina housed sailboats and motorboats alike. Condominiums and town houses lined the shore of Lake Perdue, their presence unobtrusive in the winter sun.

  “This is lovely,” she said, awe in her voice.

  “Been here before?”

  She looked out her window in amazement. “Not since it was completed.”

  “Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a shame for such a place to be on the verge of bankruptcy.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t know that. That’s too bad. Any idea why?”

  “The developer overextended, according to the paper. Other than that, I don’t know.”

  “That’s a shame. I really like it here,” he said as he parked the car, hopped out, then came around to assist Hannah. “I tried to pick up a few things before I left, but my house isn’t exactly the neatest in the neighborhood.”

  She smiled and followed him to the door. He inserted the key and then stepped inside, motioning for her to follow. “See what I mean?”

  The house looked lived-in, but she wouldn’t have called it messy. She gazed about the room, taking in the oversize couch and chairs, the marble fireplace, the light oak floors and, best of all, the skylight, which allowed sunlight in the day and stars at night. “It’s lovely, Will.”

  “A couple of hours ago, you might not have agreed. Have a seat. I’ll get us a soda.”

  Hannah sank onto the sofa. Strange the paths life took. Here she sat in Will Kincaid’s house. A month ago, she would have thought the idea preposterous.

  Before she could further ponder the irony of it, Will returned with a Coke in each hand. He offered one to her and then went over to the stereo to drop in a CD.

  She glanced up, surprise in her eyes. “Beethoven’s Fur Elise.’”

  “I thought you’d know it,” he said in a pleased voice.

  “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “I remember.”

  She looked away and then back again. “You decided to give it a try, then.”

  “I got to be real good friends with the manager at the record store off campus in college. Most of my friends think I’m crazy. I’m the only guy they know who works out to Mozart. Guess I can thank you for that.”

  She smiled, not knowing what to think of the revelation.

  He sat down on the opposite side of the sofa, his hand automatically going to his injured knee.

  “How is it?” she asked, noticing the reflex.

  “Better.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “More often than that, I’ll bet.”

  He shrugged. “No use complaining about it. It’s my own fault. Probably should have given up on it after the third round of surgery, but I was determined to keep playing. This last time was the final straw.”

  She frowned. “Can they do anything for the pain?”

  “Keep me on drugs. I’d rather have the pain. It’s not too bad.”

  An urge to reach out and smooth it away overwhelmed her. Hannah stared at her lap, disturbed by the feeling. This visit wasn’t supposed to be personal. And it seemed to be heading in that direction fast. “Ah, what did you have in mind for the fund-raiser?” she asked in an attempt to change its course.

  Will set his glass on the coffee table and leaned forward.

  “Something for the kids, I think.”

  “Like what?”

  “Clowns and dunking machines. Bobbing for apples and ‘pin the tail on the donkey.’”

  “A carnival, maybe?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That sort of thing takes money up front,” she said, skeptical. “I don’t know if the board of supervisors would—”

  “I’ll take care of that. We’d charge admission, of course. And maybe I could see about getting a few local businesses to make a donation. People like Aaron and Betsy Tate. She’s a teacher. She’ll like the idea. I know they’ll help out.”

  Hannah mulled over the suggestion. If anyone could convince the town merchants to make a contribution, it was Will Kincaid. She’d been sorry to see the bookmobile cut from the annual budget. It had been a real service to those children who lived farther out in the county and couldn’t get to the library on a regular basis. She knew of a few who really loved to read and had been heartbroken when the bookmobile stopped running. Realizing it had been their only way of getting books, Hannah made a trip out to their homes every couple of weeks or so to take them a fresh batch. But she could just imagine their delight at learning the bookmobile was operating again. “Do you really think they’d go along with it?”

  “I don’t see why not. What have they got to lose?”

  Will and Hannah sat there for an hour or so, tossing ideas back and forth, the excitement in their voices that of two children planning a school project. At some point, Will got up and ordered a pizza. When the doorbell rang a half hour later, they were both sorry for the interruption.

  Hannah hadn’t known this sort of anticipation in years. It had been a long time since she’d given herself a goal, apart from that of getting herself to work every day. This was something altogether different. It was, “I’ll look into this,” and, “You look into that.” For a woman who had gone years without more than a nod to a member of the opposite sex, it was quite a shift. One she found surprisingly appealing.

  “I’m not much of a cook, or I would have whipped something up for us,” he said. “This is about the best I can do on short notice.”

  “I love pizza,” she assured him, rearranging the books on the coffee table to make room for the box.

  Hannah sneaked glances at him as they munched, taking inventory of the changes the years had brought about. One, in particular, surprised her. “I never noticed that you were ambidextrous before.”

  He looked up. “What?”

  “You switch back and forth between your right and left hands.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, pretty talented, huh? Comes in handy when one hand gets tired.”

  “Have you always done that?”

  “Pretty much. Mostly when I eat.” His smile looked uncertain. “Does that make me special?”

  She shook her head, embarrassed. “I wouldn’t say that’s what makes you special.”

  “Oh?” he teased. “What then?”

  “Stop,” she said.

  “Stop what?”

  “You know what?”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “It’s called flirting.”

  Her eyes snapped to his. “Stop.”

  He pressed his lips together, but the smile still hovered.

  Silence settled between them. She took another bite of pizza, dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, then all business again, said, “I don’t know how to thank you. The carnival is really a great idea.”

  He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “Believe it or not, Hannah, my reasons aren’t entirely unselfish. I’m looking forward to doing something that’ll fill my time for a few weeks. Something worthwhile, as my father would say.”

  “He encouraged you to do this?”

  “Not exactly,” he said wryly. “His definition of worthwhile is a bit different from mine.”

  “Meaning?”

  “He thinks I should accept some of the offers I’ve gotten since the Super Bowl.”

  “I wondered about that. You must have received a few good ones.”

  “Financially, yes. But I’m not really interested in convincing the world to switch over to my brand of underwear. My dad doesn’t seem to get that.”

  A smile curved her lips as she reached for her Coke. “Surely there were others.”

  He shrugged. “Nothing that interests me at the moment.”

  “Then what are you planning to do now that….”

  “Now that my career is over? Good question.”

&nbs
p; She glanced away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s all right,” he said on a gentle note. “I’ve spent the past few weeks wondering myself. This fundraiser is the first thing I’ve looked forward to doing in a while—haven’t thought much beyond that. I’m glad we’ll be working together on it.”

  She looked down at her hands and swallowed. A warning bell started clanging somewhere inside her.

  Before she could say a word, he set his plate on the coffee table and slid across the couch toward her, his movements remarkably graceful for a man his size.

  She glanced up, startled to find him so close.

  “Hold still. You have pizza sauce right—” he dabbed a napkin at the corner of her mouth “-there.”

  Hannah let her tongue dart out to find the spot he’d just touched. “Is it gone?”

  “Yep.”

  But he didn’t move back. He just sat there, very close, staring into her eyes. Hannah felt caught in the center of a circus spotlight, frozen, unable to move.

  He didn’t touch her. Not with his hands, anyway. But his gaze roamed over her face, searching, leaving a mark every bit as memorable as a touch.

  Hannah’s breathing quickened. She leaned back against the pillow behind her. Why had he sought her out? What could a man like him want from a woman like her? A man who was used to big cities and glamorous companions. A woman better suited to small towns and books.

  He leaned away, still silent.

  Hannah put her plate on the table. She looked down at her lap and brushed away a few crumbs. “It’s time I was getting back. If you could….”

  He remained still a moment longer, then stood and reached for the pizza box. “I’ll take you. Let me get my coat.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hannah awoke Sunday morning long before the sun peeked between her curtains. She’d tumbled from one side of the bed to the other most of the night, the events of the day before playing through her mind like scenes from a movie.

  Will. The bookmobile.

  The idea of working with him on the project sent shivers of anticipation through her as nothing had in a long, long while. But although the thought held its share of appeal, it also had her erecting all sorts of mental defenses.