Whisper's Edge (17 page)

“I wish.”

“Savannah, I’ll try. What is it?”

She sighed deeply. “Well, this is a retirement community, you know. People here are up in age.” She swallowed hard. “It’s tough when we lose someone or something serious happens like a stroke or heart attack. That’s why I always try to have lots of exercise and activities.”

He thought about the water aerobics class. “I’m certain it does a lot of good.”

“I know but it still sucks. Sometimes leaving a spouse behind who has a hard time coping is just so painful to witness. I don’t know if there is such a thing as dying of a broken heart but I’ve often seen the surviving spouse go not long afterward. And I know that there are lonely seniors living up in town. I wish we could make room for more of them.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, would you listen to me going on again? I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be, Savannah.”

“Well, thank you, but you must think I’m one hot mess.”

“No, I don’t. I think you care. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Thank you, even if you’re not being completely honest.”

“I’ve been honest about everything I’ve said to you tonight,” he answered, even though the word
honest
bothered him. “I guess seeing people living here in their twilight years makes you appreciate life more. I know it’s cliché but I suppose it makes you remember that we’re only here for a short time and that we should try to make the best of it.”

She sat up straighter. “Oh, that is completely true! Now you know why I have a bucket list.” It looked as if she was about to say something else but suddenly shook her head. “I’ve gone and talked your ear right off! You’re probably bored to tears. I think that charcoal is darned good and ready. What do you say we put those steaks on the grill?”

“Sure.” Tristan nodded, but when she rose to go inside he reached out and grabbed her hand. “Savannah, I enjoy talking to you. I’m not one bit bored.”

“I’m glad,” she said with a smile, but as she pulled her hand away Tristan held on just tightly enough to allow the contact to linger. He really couldn’t remember when he had enjoyed the company of a woman more.

Tristan sighed as he watched her walk into her house, wishing that Savannah wasn’t connected to Whisper’s Edge, especially after hearing her story. He thought about the meeting he had later in the week with Mitch Monroe, who was one of the partners in the Cricket Creek stadium project and the developer of Wedding Row, the strip of shops near the river. In Tristan’s recent research he’d read that with the success of the Cricket Creek Cougars, Mitch Monroe was hoping to add a convention center and perhaps a hotel in the future. Tristan’s hope was that Monroe would either want to purchase the property as part of the development or perhaps have an interest in investing in the marina that Tristan had in mind. Either way it could be a lucrative deal and add to the satisfaction of making his grandfather eat crow.

He should be over-the-moon excited.

But Tristan just wasn’t sure he could handle seeing disappointment in Savannah’s expressive eyes. Whisper’s Edge meant so much to her and to the residents who lived here. How in the world could he take that away?

“W
OW, SAVANNAH, YOU’RE RIGHT,” TRISTAN COMMENTED
after he swallowed his first bite of steak. “The flavor of real charcoal is amazing.”

Savannah watched him dig in with relish and felt a sense of satisfaction that he was enjoying the meal. “Yep, my little ole grill isn’t fancy but does the job. Sometimes simple is better. No bells and whistles need apply.”

“Mmm…” Tristan nodded in agreement as he happily chewed on another bite and then pointed to his plate with his fork. “No-frills baked potato and a nice crisp salad is one of my favorite meals. Thank you.”

Savannah shrugged. “There’s nothing too fancy about me, Tristan. I’m pretty straightforward.”

“You sound as if you’re apologizing for that.” He shook some salt onto his potato and then looked at her. “Believe me, I find your candor incredibly refreshing.”

“Thank you.” Savannah accepted his compliment but she wasn’t quite sure what
candor
meant. She kept the smile on her face, even though she felt a quick stab of insecurity poke her in the gut. He was a lawyer. He went to school for
a million years. She had been lucky to finish high school. If they got into an intellectual discussion about something like politics or art she was going to be toast.

“So have you needed to rescue Willie lately?”

Ah, a safe subject. Savannah breathed an inner sigh of relief. “No, the Camden brothers have been careful about keeping the gate closed. They might have acted all huffy about the situation, but Miss Patty pretty much rules the roost for the most part.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Oh, not so fast. Willie did, however, dig up Etta Mae Baker’s petunias a couple of days ago. Well, I should say allegedly. Miss Patty tried to blame deer, but they tend to eat flowers and not dig them up. Etta Mae was madder than a wet hen! She was yelling really loud since Miss Patty is a tad hard of hearing, or so she says. I sometimes think it’s selective hearing on her part. Anyway, I had to come between the two of them and attempt to smooth their ruffled feathers.”

Tristan grinned. “And how did you do that?”

Savannah put her fork down and said, “Well, as you already witnessed, Miss Patty can be pretty stubborn and protective where her dear Willie’s concerned. When Etta Mae demanded new petunias, Miss Patty wanted to know if there were any witnesses to Willie’s said destruction of her flower bed.”

“And was there?”

“No, but Etta Mae threw out there that every other dog must adhere to the leash law so it must have been Willie.”

Tristan angled his head. “But that doesn’t mean that another dog couldn’t have gotten loose.”

“That’s what Miss Patty said in a snippy tone that totally ticked Etta Mae off even more. At that point Etta Mae even hinted that the destruction was an attempt to keep her from winning the best flower bed award for the week. That comment blew the lid off any niceties, and, Tristan, they got nose to nose. Etta Mae was pointing her finger and shaking her
head so hard that I was afraid that her false teeth were going to go flying out of her mouth. Lordy, I thought I was going to have a dire situation on my hands!” She leaned forward. “That’s when I had to
literally
get between them, and it was a tight squeeze.”

“So what happened?”

“One of the Camden brothers, I think it was Clovis, yelled ‘cat fight,’ from where they were observing the tussle from across the street, drawing Etta Mae’s attention. She tried to lure them over with a sweet smile. I swear she even showed them some leg.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Nope, she used to be a dancer and her legs are still in great shape. She shows them off at every opportunity, ticking the other women off something fierce.”

“So she was hoping to get the Camdens on her side?”

“Exactly. I took the brief opportunity to lean over and advise Miss Patty to just give in and replace the petunias to avoid having the possibility of having Willie’s no-leash freedom revoked at the next council meeting.”

“Did she agree?”

“Yes, but very reluctantly. Then there was the added dispute of who would plant the petunias. Miss Patty would not offer to do the planting but Etta Mae knew she was pushing her luck and gave in pretty fast on that one.”

“Good job, Savannah. You’re a good mediator.”

“Thanks. I guess I get plenty of practice.”

“So, I have to ask…off the record, of course. Do you think Willie was the culprit?”

Savannah started slicing her steak. “Well, like Miss Patty pointed out, there weren’t witnesses but, yes, most likely. Willie likes to bury bones here and there and when the spirit moves him he runs off and digs one up and then eats the dirty ole thing.”

“And do you think Miss Patty knew it was Willie all along?”

“Oh, without a doubt, but admitting it might also get
Willie’s wings clipped. I knew she’d never come clean in a million years. And of course only Willie knows for sure and he isn’t talking.”

“Well then, you did an excellent job. Nice legal work, Savannah.” He reached over and gave her a high five.

“That’s quite a compliment coming from you.” Savannah looked closely at his expression to see if he was teasing but he seemed sincere.

“Well, you’re a natural. I wouldn’t want to face you in court.”

The thought that he really did admire her made her feel pretty proud. “I’ll fully admit that keeping the peace sometimes takes some doing. We have our fair share of grumpy old men, angry disputes, and…dare I say it?” She nibbled on the inside of her lip and remained mum.

“Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging.”

Savannah put her fork down and leaned closer. “Love triangles,” she told him in a stage whisper.

“You’re pulling my chain.”

Savannah pressed her lips together and shook her head slowly. “Nope, the men here are outnumbered two to one so it’s slim pickings for the single ladies.”

Tristan chuckled. “I guess you do have your hands full.”

“Sometimes it’s like dealing with elderly teenagers but I love each and every one of them. I have a bird’s-eye view of aging, and at least I know that growing old doesn’t have to be boring. I swear I could write a book.”

Tristan angled his head. “Well, then, you should.”

“What?”

“Write a book.”

Savannah waved a hand at him. “Oh, I was just joking.”

“I’m not.” He took a swallow of his beer and looked at her after setting it down. “You said you were an avid reader. Writing would probably come naturally. Have you ever tried it?”

“No…”

“Then you should.”

“Oh…Tristan,” she scoffed but a flutter of excitement went through her stomach. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Jot down some anecdotes or vignettes.”

“Good, idea,” she said, nodding.

“Savannah, you’re creative, smart, and funny. You just might be on to something.”

She thought she should remind him that she had only been joking but he seemed serious and so she nodded. “Maybe…”

“You could show that growing old doesn’t have to be a bête noire.”

“True,” she agreed but then tried to piece together in her brain what that could possibly mean. “I could go that route…but I have to confess that I have absolutely no clue on God’s green earth what bête noire is.”

Tristan chuckled. “It means something you dread. And hey, only a geek like me would use that term.”

“Well then, now that I know the definition I’ll use it in conversation tomorrow and show off my superior knowledge.” Even though Savannah felt a little bit better at his admission she still knew that they were worlds apart. To think that anything could come from a dinner and a kiss would be foolish. Lyrics from the Taylor Swift song “White Horse” filtered into her head and she reminded herself once again that
I’m not a princess and this ain’t a fairy tale
.

But as she looked across the small table at Tristan’s handsome face she decided to give herself tonight. If she fell a little bit in love, no one would ever know.

With her resolve firmly in place, Savannah allowed herself to relax. She soon had Tristan laughing at more tales of Whisper’s Edge residents. “You might not believe it but there is rarely a dull moment around here.”

“Oh no, I believe it. Seriously, you should consider the book suggestion.”

“I could go on forever,” she admitted with a laugh.

“I could listen forever,” Tristan said, but instead of laughing
he looked at her and gave Savannah a bone-melting smile that made her feel as if she might slide from her chair and dissolve into a warm puddle right there in the middle of the patio.

There was a sudden silence, an awareness that passed between them making Savannah long to push the table to the side, stand up, and press her body against his. She wanted to dance in the moonlight, and throw caution to the doggone wind! But most of all, she wanted to be kissed again.

Dangerous, she thought and cleared her throat. “Um, can I get you anything else?” she asked to break the silence, but her darned voice came out breathless. She felt the heat of a blush steal into her cheeks when she realized that her breathy question somehow sounded suggestive. Or then again maybe it was just the steamy images that kept coming into her brain every time she looked at him. “Coffee?” She decided to be more specific.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Oh, I bet you are
, said the devil perched on her shoulder.

“Well, if you change your mind let me know,” she offered in a fairly steady voice but felt heat remain in her cheeks. She really needed to rein in her racy thoughts before one of them came shooting right out of her mouth. “I don’t mind brewing some.”

“No, that’s okay. It keeps me up at night.”

“Oh,” was all that she could muster since his up-all-night response conjured all kinds of sexy images. Savannah wasn’t one to have these kinds of thoughts but her imagination decided to run wild.
Please don’t blush
, she thought but gingers were the world’s worst at controlling blushing, and she felt another one coming on.

Damn!

Savannah decided to blame her flaming face on something else other than her acute embarrassment at picturing him twisted in the sheets, naked. “Whew, yes, it’s too warm of a night for hot coffee,” she said and fanned her face.
“What was I thinking?” She hoped the dim light would hide her sudden glow.

“You were simply being a good hostess.”

Of course, a cool breeze that threatened to make her shiver had to go and blow right through the yard strongly enough to make the candles flicker. She willed herself not to hug her arms across her chest and rub the goose bumps from her bare skin. “Well, I wish I had something sweet to offer you for dessert,” she said and then wanted to cover her face with her hands. Every single thing that came out of her mouth seemed to sound suggestive. She decided she’d be better off keeping her mouth shut, but if the conversation ceased he would leave and Savannah realized that she didn’t want the evening to end. She wasn’t ready for the coach to turn back into a pumpkin just yet.