Home to Hope Mountain (Harlequin Superromance) (11 page)

Was that naive on his part? For all he knew she might have a boyfriend. Her husband had been dead nearly a year....

Not that he was trying to start anything. That would be foolish, considering he’d be leaving in three or four months. He didn’t know Hayley well, but she didn’t seem like the type to go in for casual relationships. For that matter, neither was he. But he did want her company for dinner—that part was simple.

All these thoughts flashed through his mind in the seconds it took for Hayley’s inner struggle to play out over her face. At first he thought she was going to agree and then she said, “It seems a waste when you’ve stocked my fridge full of such good things.”

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities to use them. Summer would really like it if you came. She’s sick of me and my lame Dad jokes.”

“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. You’re essentially my employer—”

“Can’t we be friends, too?”

A half smile lifted one corner of her full mouth. “You don’t like people saying no to you, do you?”

“It’s only dinner, not a trip to Paris.” He smiled easily, hoping she would capitulate. Because she was right, he didn’t like people saying no to him.

Her half smile turned into a full grin. “If you offered me a trip to Paris I might say yes.”

“Okay, let’s go. I’ll call my travel agent right now.”

That made her laugh out loud. “You’re crazy.” He was feeling pleased with himself until she said, “Thanks, but no. I need to pick up a few more things at my place.” She gathered up the looped reins and started walking toward the barn.

Adam went after her, surprised at how quickly she moved with that long stride of hers. “I’ll help.” He wasn’t sure why he was being so insistent. Clearly the woman didn’t want to spend time with him.

“No.” This time her tone was as final as her words.

It took him a moment to process. Hayley wasn’t a woman to sugarcoat a rejection. “All right.” He backed away, hands up. “Another time.”

* * *

B
ACK
AT
THE
garage, Hayley threw her record books for Horses for Hope into a box, furious with herself. Why was she standoffish to the point of rudeness with Adam? He’d only invited her to dinner. He was simply being polite and friendly.

What was she afraid of? So there was a minor buzz happening between them. They were both smart enough to know they’d be dumb to act on it—she was grieving and he was leaving. Plus, her treating Summer was reason enough not to see where the attraction might lead. Already the girl had confided things that Hayley couldn’t tell Adam. Better to keep her distance.

She carried the last box out to her truck, then went back to the garage for a final check. She had her fireproof lockbox, her knitting and Shane’s bowl and bag of dog food.... Then she spied an old photo her mother had sent not long ago, fallen behind a pot of parsley on the windowsill. It was of her and her younger sister, Marta, with their grandparents in front of the old house on this very property.

The house was lit by the setting sun and the whole clearing was a golden glow. She and her sister were laughing at something their grandfather had said. Grandma was smiling, as always. Happy days. Hayley slipped the photo into the box with her other papers and left.

Back at Timbertop she parked in front of the cottage. It was about the same time of day in the photo, when buildings and trees glowed. Through the open window of the big house came the soft strains of instrumental music. The enticing aroma of barbecuing chicken wafted from the deck at the front of the house. Suddenly she wished she’d said yes to Adam. Not for the food but for the company. What kind of fool was she to turn down a simple invitation to dinner?

She could see him moving around the kitchen. He was one seriously hot dude, even in a barbecue apron. Classic broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. That thick dark hair falling over his forehead as he bent to...what, read the cookbook, rinse something in the sink...?

Then Adam looked up—their gazes locked. Shit. What was she doing, gazing into his window like the Little Match Girl, longing for a home and loved ones? With a jerky nod of her head she ducked inside the cottage.

Damn, damn, damn. Now he would think she really wanted to come but didn’t because she was afraid of spending time with him. She was, but she didn’t want him to know that.

She began unpacking a box. On top was a framed photo of her and Leif on their wedding day that Molly had given her after she’d lost all her photos in the fire. She rubbed the dust off the glass with the sleeve of her shirt and placed it in the center of the mantelpiece.

Oh, Leif
. She was such a jumble of emotions where he was concerned. If he’d lived would they have sorted out their problems? She really wanted to believe they would’ve, but...

Suddenly, she wasn’t in the mood to unpack. Thinking about the past always made her restless and angsty and...lonely. A knock sounded at the door. Probably Summer. She touched her fingertips to her eyes and cleared her throat. “Come in. Door’s open.”

Adam’s tall frame filled the doorway. He carried a plate of bruschetta piled with diced tomatoes and basil. “I thought you might want a snack. I had extra.”

Hayley salivated at the savory treat, but Adam’s solid presence and deep, rumbling voice was even more welcome, pulling her back to the present. “Are you trying to lure me up to the house for dinner?”

A glint came into his dark eyes. “Is it working?”

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop from smiling and cocked her head on the side as if deliberating. “What else have you got?”

“Chicken with peri peri sauce and veggie kebabs.”

She tapped her cheek. “Sounds good. I’ll have to think.”

“Try one of these. It might help you make up your mind.” Adam set the plate of bruschetta on the breakfast bar and strolled around the room.

Hayley reached for a slice and bit into it, tasting garlic and fruity olive oil. Yum.

Adam stopped in front of the mantelpiece to study her wedding photo. “So this is Leif, your late husband. He’s certainly a handsome devil.”

“Huh. Most people say something about what a lovely bride.” She grinned to let him know she was joking but she was a bit confused. Was that an edge to his voice? Leif had died trying to save his damn property. “Did you know him?”

“No, but Diane did. She and her girlfriends were a bit gaga over him.” Adam glanced over his shoulder as if checking her reaction. “I hope I’m not being untactful.”

“Not at all,” Hayley said stiffly. “Everyone loved Leif.”

Had Adam somehow clued in to the troubles between her and Leif? Had he heard gossip in the town? Leif had given her cause for concern, and twice she’d come close to leaving him. But he’d regretted his actions and had promised never to do it again. She’d believed him. She had to. The alternative would have meant the end of her marriage, the end of her and Leif’s dreams. She couldn’t have handled that. Home and family were everything to her, and she’d invested her whole adult life in Leif.

“Leif and I were solid. Women flirted with him all the time but it meant nothing.” Her mouth twisted. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that Diane flirted with him.”

In fact, at her party Diane had hardly spoken to Leif, almost to the point of ignoring him. Hayley remembered being miffed at that, since Leif had gone out of his way to take Diane and her friends on an extralong trail ride.

Adam turned away from the mantelpiece, his gaze bland and unreadable. “How long were you married?”

“Eight years. But we’d known each other since high school.” She allowed herself a tiny sigh. “I’d always loved riding but thought of it as a hobby. Leif made me believe I could make a livelihood out of horses. We were going to build a dude ranch. I still want to do that.”

“It must be nice to have a common goal with your partner.”

Unlike Adam and Diane? Had he and his ex-wife led separate lives? Again, there was so little expression in his face or voice she couldn’t read him. “Hope Mountain is a long way from the city where you work,” she ventured. “Hard to have common goals when you’re so far apart.”

“Our marriage was over long before we bought this property. I just didn’t know it.”

He sounded as if it didn’t matter, but he must have his own share of grief and anger. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

“Don’t be. I regret how our breakup affected Summer, but... Never mind.” He walked back to the kitchen where she was tackling another bruschetta. “So will you come for dinner? I’ve been on this cooking jag since I’ve been in Mount Hope, and I’m getting pretty good.”

Hayley couldn’t disagree as she swallowed another delicious mouthful. She was relieved that the conversation had taken a new turn. “How will Summer feel about it? After our therapy session she might be uncomfortable being in a social situation with me.”

“Who do you think demanded I bring the appetizer down?”

Hayley licked a drop of juice off her thumb. “In that case, I’ll come, thanks. I’ll wash up and be there shortly.”

“I’ll see you soon, then.” He smiled into her eyes and added softly, “You were an extraordinarily beautiful bride.” Then, while she was blushing to the roots of her hair, he let himself out and went back to the house.

All her confusion came swirling back and she felt like running after him and saying she couldn’t make it after all. But after that chat about Leif she’d rather not be alone with her thoughts this evening.

She took a deep breath. This was crazy. She needed to get control of her emotions, damp them down, tame them into manageable proportions. It was just dinner. Just a meal with a nice man and his daughter. Not a date with a hot guy who set her pulse racing every time he looked into her eyes. Not, not, not.

But she hummed to herself as she took a shower and brushed out her hair. She started to pull on a clean pair of jeans, then changed her mind, instead opting for a sundress. It would get cold once the sun went down, so she grabbed a bulky cardigan she’d knit herself.

She carried a half bottle of Molly’s cumquat liqueur as a contribution and went out into the balmy spring evening, repeating her mantra:
This is not a date
. Not even close. Just two people sharing a meal. Three people. Summer would be there the whole time. They would eat, have some light conversation and she would go back to the cottage. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

“S
HE
’
S
COMING
,” A
DAM
TOLD
Summer as he entered the kitchen through the back door. He recognized the undertone of excitement in his voice and tried to quell it. “She’ll be here shortly.”

“Goody.” Earbuds in, Summer practiced a dance move on the sun-drenched hardwood floor in the great room.

Adam opened a bottle of pinot grigio he had chilling in the fridge and got out two wineglasses.
Play it cool.
This was just a simple meal. He had plenty of food and he was sharing? Really? So why had he shaved and put on a clean shirt before going down to the cottage?

Okay, it felt a bit like a date. But he was glad he’d tried again. Seeing her outside with her face aglow in the sunset, he’d caught a disconcerting glimpse of yearning and conflict beneath her outward strength and optimism. She wanted to come just as much as he wanted her to. All she’d needed was a gentle push in the right direction.

And he had to admit the watch was bothering him. A lot. He wanted to give it to her, but he didn’t want to add to her pain over her late husband. If he got to know her better, he might be able to decide what to do.

He went outside to check the barbecue, shifting the partially cooked chicken to one side and adding skewers of vegetables. He hoped she liked eggplant. He wasn’t sure he did, but the color went nicely with tomato and zucchini.

Footsteps sounded as Hayley came around the side of the house onto the veranda. “I thought I’d find you back here.”

Adam dropped the lid on the barbecue with an unintentional bang. Hayley’s honey-blond hair swirled loose around bare shoulders, and a blue paisley cotton dress clung to her slender curves and bare legs. Miles of legs, still pale from winter, but oh, so shapely. At her sandal-shod heels trotted her black-and-white dog.

“Sorry I made you jump.” She clutched a bundled sweater under one arm and waved a bottle half-filled with orange liqueur. “For later. My mother-in-law makes it.”

“Thanks. I’m so glad you decided to come.” He took the bottle and put it on the round glass outdoor table. “Would you like a glass of white for now?”

“Sounds lovely.” Her wavy hair, still slightly damp, sent a whiff of lemony shampoo in his direction. “Is it all right if Shane is here? He’s used to going everywhere with me.”

“He’s fine. Have a seat.” He poured her a glass from the bottle in the wine cooler, then turned down the barbecue so they would have time to talk before dinner.

Her fingers curled around the stem of the wineglass. Her nails looked freshly scrubbed, pink and clean. “Sorry about before, Adam. I must have seemed pretty rude.”

“You have a problem accepting the kindness of strangers?”

She gave him a rueful smile. “I’m out of practice with socializing.”

Adam angled his deck chair to face her. “Admit it, the bruschetta changed your mind, didn’t it?”

“It was pretty amazing,” she conceded, smiling.

“If I’d known food was such a chick magnet I’d have taken up cooking long ago.”

Laughing, she made a face. “Chick magnet?”

“Not cool, huh?” He winced. “I’m out of practice, too.” This was his cue to tactfully ask about her love life. But he could just imagine how crass that would sound.
So, have you hooked up with anyone new since your husband died?
The pause stretched into seconds.

“It must be lonely for you up here, not knowing anyone,” she said, as if picking up on his thoughts.

“I’m okay with my own company. Temporarily, at least.” He added as gently as he could, “And how are you coping, with your husband gone?”