Читать книгу One Night in Weaver... - Allison Leigh - Страница 11

Chapter Four

The name of the new park was, indeed, Willow Park. Obviously in honor of the stand of young willow trees planted on one side. There were also a couple stands of cottonwoods and a lot of grass that hadn’t yet filled in.

“You’re right when you said we wouldn’t run into anyone here,” Hayley observed as Seth opened her door after parking in the small parking lot and walking around the car. “There isn’t another vehicle here.”

“Give it time.” He took the bag, which she’d held on her lap during the short drive, and gestured at the buildings under construction across the street. She could hear an occasional whir of power tools and hammers. “When those houses are finished and people start moving in, the place’ll probably be crawling with kids.”

She smiled and followed him to the winding sidewalk that led from the parking lot, past the sandy playground, to one of the picnic tables positioned under the ramada. The weather was still cool and she was glad for her suit jacket against the breeze that was strong enough to make the swing set chains jangle musically. “Judging by your tone, I’m guessing you don’t have any. Kids, that is.”

“No. No kids. No exes down in Texas.” He glanced at her and gestured for her to sit. “Or anywhere else for that matter. I’d pull out the bench for you but it’s attached to the table.”

She couldn’t lift her foot over the bench to sit without hitching her skirt up her thighs, so she sat first and then rotated, swinging both her legs over the bench till she was facing the table. Then she felt like a ninny when she caught his grin as he took the bench across from her. “What?”

“Never appreciated quite this much what a straight skirt did for a pretty girl.” He set the bag on the table between them.

Warmth filled her cheeks, which needed no help from pinching this time. She quickly pulled open the paper sack to extract the contents. Not only were there two wrapped sandwiches that were still slightly warm, but also an insulated container of coleslaw, two bottles of water, two brownies and a ridiculous quantity of paper napkins.

She held them up in her hand. “Emptied the dispenser, did you?”

“I’ve seen how dangerous you are when it comes to water.”

“Don’t remind me.” She unfolded one of the napkins and set the sandwiched marked “TP” on it. “That night at Colbys was definitely not one of my finer moments.” She didn’t particularly want to talk about it, either, but pretending it hadn’t happened was pointless. “Is that where you’re from? Texas?”

He didn’t bother using a napkin as a placemat the way she did. Just unfolded the foil-backed paper from his sandwich and nodded before taking a healthy bite.

“Texas is a big state.” She unwrapped her own sandwich, savoring the scent that greeted her. “Whereabouts?”

He swallowed and opened one of the water bottles. “Little bit outside Dallas.”

“Your parents still there?”

“No.” The answer was short and didn’t invite further queries. “You’re not from Weaver.”

“How do you know that?”

“The night you went home with me, you kept saying you were supposed to be home in Braden.”

Ouch. “I don’t remember that. Did, uh, did I say anything else?” Any other little nuggets that would prove humiliating, right along with the way she’d passed out? She took a bite of her sandwich to make sure she didn’t actually voice that thought out loud.

“Just that you hadn’t had sex in a long time.”

She nearly choked on her food.

He uncapped the second water bottle and held it out to her, his eyes full of laughter. She looked past him at the empty playground equipment, the swings swaying softly, and drank down a third of the bottle before setting it down next to her sandwich. “How long have you been out of the army?”

“Pretty quick change of subject there.”

“I think it’s best,” she managed to say.

“Five years.”

She grimaced. “I told you that, too?”

“Since I left the rangers. But I guess I don’t have to ask you just how long is a long time.”

Mortified, she tried not to squirm. “And now you can understand why that is. I love Ruby’s coleslaw.” She grabbed the container that had been weighing down the spare napkins. Several napkins immediately flew off the table with the breeze.

He chuckled and lifted his hand. “Relax. I’ll get ’em. Don’t want your friend from the sheriff’s department writing us up for littering.”

While he retrieved the fluttering paper squares, she tucked the rest of the napkins safely back inside the bag and silently told herself to get a grip. Then she realized that there was only one plastic fork.