Page 19 of Vincent
"Thanks, Geraldine," she told the woman with a smile.
"You're welcome, Ms. Thea," the woman told her with a shy smile. "And those pastries you gave us were delicious." With a slight bob, she departed quickly.
"You made stuff for the staff?"
"Hmm. Ah, here we are. Someone brought around my vehicle."
They had just finished stowing the things inside the trunk when both Viola and Jacklyn came hurrying out. To his shock, Vincent realized he resented the intrusion.
"We just had to come and say a big thanks. Child, your pastries were a hit." Viola drew her in for a quick hug before letting go.
"Did Vincent tell you that you got two marriage proposals?" Jacklyn, looking lovely in a pale green shift, twinkled out a laugh.
"He just told me about one." Althea turned to give him a reproving look. "Shame on you."
"Forgive me for not indulging in such nonsense."
"You think two marriage proposals are something to sneeze about?" Without waiting for his response, she turned back to the two women. "I'm happy it turned out so well."
"Thanks again."
"My exorbitant bill is going to set you back some."
Viola laughed softly. "Well worth it. Well, we'll be in touch." With a wave, both women left and went back inside.
"Who was the other proposal from?" she asked casually as she dumped her enormous pocketbook onto the passenger seat.
"Does it matter?" For some unknown reason, the topic was starting to annoy him.
"It might." Tilting her head back, she studied his face. "You're upset."
"I'm tired." His tone was abrupt. Stepping back, he rounded the hood and had her door open. "Drive safe," he added, closing the door as soon as she got in.
He wanted to tell her to make sure she texted him that she got home safe, but that wasn't something he should be doing.
It certainly didn't stop him from standing there until her taillights had disappeared around the bend.
Chapter 5
He tried several times to talk himself out of going. And had several logical arguments. It wasn't his place, it wasn't his dinner party to begin with, and her mother already wrote her a check. He shouldn't be going to her place, especially since last night had been filled with thoughts of her and images. Her talking to his son, stirring the sauce on the stove top. And especially of her sleeping on the sofa in the library.
But she was his best friend, wasn't she? Or had been at one time. They could be friendly again. She was back in town, and he hadn't given her a proper welcome and as far as he recalled, she loved wine. So, bringing her a bottle of Costa Sensation was a friendly gesture.
He sat there in the lane leading to her cottage and fought the battle in his mind. He should turn back. He had some contracts that needed his attention before tomorrow. A friend had invited him to play tennis. He hadn't been to his club in a couple of months.
He was paying the exorbitant annual fee and wasn't taking advantage of the amenities. Sighing harshly, he relinquished the faint hold he had on his mind and drove the rest of the way to her cottage. He knew it, of course, and had been here several times in the past. And had always loved the quiet serenity. It was fitting that she would come back here.
And she had maintained the gardens. That was fitting as well.
The porch swing brought back memories of them sitting there, enjoying the weather and sipping jugs of lemonade in the summer. Or with her daring him to climb the old oak tree that was still there. Or taking a hike through the wooded surroundings and pretending to look for hidden treasures. A feeling of nostalgia swept through him as he alighted and stepped outside.
Fall was rapidly approaching and the trees were already starting to shed their leaves.
Gripping the bottle of wine, he made his way up the steps and lifted his hand to ring the bell and hesitated. She might still be sleeping, and he would be disturbing her. Even though it was noon, she had had a long day. He should go back home. He had just turned away when the door swung open.
"Leaving already?"
There she was standing in the open doorway, wearing a skimpy sweater that showed her midriff and figure-hugging black leggings. Her face was scrubbed fresh as if she had just taken a shower and he could smell the body wash on her.
