Читать книгу The Littlest Matchmaker - Dorien Kelly, Dorien Kelly - Страница 10

At nearly six the following evening, as Lisa made her way from Shortbread Cottage to Malloy’s Pub, one question stuck in her mind: if this wasn’t a date, why were her palms clammy?

Maybe she shouldn’t have heightened her expectations—and her anxiety level—by changing from her work clothes to a vividly colored sundress, thin cotton wrap and sandals that had a little heel to them. The outfit was undeniably datelike, as was the fact that she had actually put on makeup. While walking to the pub she’d already garnered a teasing comment from elderly Mr. Haughtman, the village’s bookstore owner, about being “all gussied up,” and a “totally hot” from one of her college-aged coffee customers.

Before opening the door to Malloy’s, Lisa drew one last deep and fortifying breath. Maybe she hadn’t been out socially with a man other than James since meeting him over six years ago, but she knew she could do this. She just wasn’t sure she’d enjoy it.

Lisa stepped into the pub. As always, the place was busy. The mingled scents of garlic and grilled steak wafted from the kitchen, and the chat and laughter of the patrons drifted over the background music. She had just begun to look around for Kevin when someone called her name. She followed the voice to its owner, Kathleen Malloy, sister of the pub’s owner, Conal. Kathleen waved her over to where she sat at the bar.

Lisa had known the woman forever. Kathleen, who’d been a few years ahead of her in school and part of the “in” crowd, had become her unofficial big sister when Lisa entered high school. Though their paths had been distinctly different since those school days—Kathleen was now an attorney—they remained friendly.

By the time Lisa had wound through the tables to the bar, Kathleen had stood. The women gave each other a hug.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she said. “Pull up a stool and have dinner with me.”

“I’d love to, but I’m meeting someone,” Lisa replied, then quickly scanned the diners for Kevin. Sunshine streamed into the bar’s big front windows, leaving her just the patrons’ silhouettes to choose from.

“Is it Courtney?” Kathleen asked. “I bumped into her last night, and she said she’s been angling to get you out into the world again.”

Maybe it was just a symptom of Guilt and Self-recrimination Thursday, but those “Lisa is a hermit” comments were beginning to sting.

“Hey, it’s not as though Shortbread Cottage is a cloistered convent. But, no, it’s not Courtney,” she said, still glancing around for Kevin.

When she looked back at Kathleen, Lisa noted that she was being scrutinized more carefully.

“I think I have it now,” Kathleen said. “You’re too dressed up for dinner with Courtney. It’s a date, right? But with who? You never get out…You must have tried one of those online dating services and now you have to pick out Mr. Lucky from the crowd!”

Conal, who had just finished waiting on the customer next to his sister, joined in the conversation. “Lisa has a Mr. Lucky?”

Lisa winced. “Ew. That sounds flat-out wrong.”

“Lisa’s trying online dating,” Kathleen advised her brother.

Lisa had seen this game before. The Malloys were like terriers. Once they got an idea clamped between their teeth, there it would stay, fiercely held for their own purposes. In this case, she feared she was the purpose.

“I’m not doing online dating,” she said emphatically. “None. Zilch. Zip. Nada.”

As she expected, the siblings disregarded her announcement.

“And so we’re date-spotting?” Conal asked.

Kathleen nodded her head.

“I’ll bet it’s the old codger walking in,” Conal said as he inclined his head toward an eightyish man. “He’s carrying that newspaper so that she’ll recognize him. He’ll need it since in his profile he said that he’s twenty-eight instead of eighty-two.”

Kathleen shook her head in mock dismay. “Damned dyslexia. It’ll get a girl every time.”

She scanned the room, as did Lisa, though with a different intent. Lisa was pretty sure she’d spotted Kevin at one of the two window tables.

“How about the pierced and tattooed guy at the far end of the bar?” Kathleen asked.

“Nah, that’s Harley, and I’ve been saving him up for you, sis,” Conal replied.

Now sixty percent sure she’d spotted Kevin and one hundred percent sure she’d taken enough teasing from the Malloys, Lisa readied herself to move on. “I hate to disappoint you guys, but I’m meeting Kevin Decker, and I think I see him at the windows.”

Conal, who’d been quite the actor in high school, ratcheted his performance up a notch to utterly shocked. “You found Kevin on a dating service when he’s been beneath your nose all this time?”

“Come on, Conal, you know I didn’t find him on a dating service,” Lisa said.

Conal grinned. “But you’re not denying that you’re dating him? Or that you’re on one?”

“I’ll let you make up your own tale, complete with Irish embellishments, which we all know you’ll do, anyway,” Lisa said. “See you two later.”

“Enjoy,” Kathleen said in a cheery—and just a little teasing—voice.

“Take your time, lovebirds,” Conal called as Lisa headed toward Kevin. “I’ll hold the kitchen open as late as you need. Aren’t you glad to have friends in suspect places?”

“Not to mention suspect friends,” Lisa replied over her shoulder. Sure as Conal Malloy was the village’s most popular bar owner, she and Kevin would now be grist for the village gossip mill.

As Lisa neared Kevin’s table, he rose. The nondate had officially begun, and she smiled to mask her nervousness.

“You look beautiful,” he said once she’d joined him.

Thank you seemed the most appropriate answer, though she was tempted to add that he looked pretty darned good, too. Kevin always had a neat appearance, which she found surprising considering the rigorous physical nature of his job. Tonight, though, he looked smooth, perfectly dressed in nice jeans and a white shirt. Her fingers twitched with the impulse to touch his freshly shaven jaw. But touching would be even worse than looking, and she was sufficiently distracted already.

“Did you have fun up at the bar?” Kevin asked. His grin rivaled the one Conal had worn.

“I don’t suppose you considered coming over there to bail me out?” she asked.

“I considered it, but rejected it. Better that Conal grills me like one of his porterhouse steaks when you’re not around to witness my humiliation.”

“Somehow I don’t see Conal getting the better of you.”

He laughed. “Which is why I’ll wait until you’re not here for my grilling,” he said as he held out a chair for her.

Lisa couldn’t recall the last time someone had done something this chivalrous for her. In her marriage, chivalry seemed to have been left on Scotland’s rocky shore. Not that she was incapable of pulling out a chair or opening a door, but given all that she did for herself and others daily, it was nice to have someone offer to do it for her. Lisa settled in.

“So, did you work up an appetite today?” Kevin asked, then shook his head. “That’s an odd question to ask someone who bakes all day, isn’t it?”

Could it be that he was a little nervous, too? She liked that idea; it gave her less reason to worry over her every word and gesture.

“Actually, it’s not such a strange question,” she said. “I have to admit that I’m not much for sweets, but I’m starved for real food by the end of work. And tonight’s special because I don’t have to think about whether what I want is something Jamie would eat. That’s a short list.”

He smiled. “You only have to consider yourself. How does that feel?”

Lisa took a moment to inventory her emotions. “Foreign. Even without Jamie here, I find myself craving mac and cheese.”

“His favorite?”

She nodded. “Fat grams and carb city. And something I serve only with steamed broccoli to salve my motherly conscience.”

“Sounds like a fair deal to me.”

She laughed. “Tell that to Jamie.”

The waitress arrived with menus, told them about the dinner specials, then asked if they wanted drinks. Lisa ordered a glass of Chardonnay, because she could. Kevin asked for a pint of ale.

“So do your parents ever watch Jamie?” Kevin asked after they’d both looked at the menu.

“Sometimes, but I don’t feel right handing him off since he already spends time at Courtney’s, plus three afternoons a week at preschool. And now, after last night’s talk about having me move back home, I’m even less interested in their help.”

The waitress arrived with their drinks. Kevin took a swallow of ale, and then said, “Maybe if you let them help more, they wouldn’t push so hard to have you move home. Sometimes you need to let people in just a little, you know?”

While she absorbed what he’d said, Lisa traced a rivulet of moisture coursing down the outside of her wineglass. Maybe he had been speaking in generalities, but she doubted it. His comment had been too much of a bull’s-eye. Though she made a point to be friendly and welcoming to one and all, that welcome extended only so far. She’d discovered that she fared better with her boundaries firmly in place.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” she eventually replied.

Kevin looked down at the table, then back at her. “Hey, I’m sorry. You know, I made a mental list of things I wouldn’t bring up tonight, and I’ve already hit number two on that list. Your relationship with your parents is none of my business, and it’s okay to tell me to butt out. It’s just kind of second nature for me to offer advice, even when it’s not needed.”

“So Courtney tells me…constantly,” Lisa said, softening her words with a smile.

He grinned. “Figures.”

The uncomfortable moment seemed to have passed. She took a sip of her wine, then said, “I know she’s an equal opportunity talker. What does she tell you about me? It’s a given that I’m a workaholic, but she must have shared something else with you.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Can’t go there.”

“Number one on your list?” she asked teasingly, then realized even before he spoke that number one was James, a topic they both had been tiptoeing around for years.

“Far from it,” he said. “It’s more about me than you, but just the same, it would be crossing into personal territory. Only mine, in this case.”

She nodded as though she understood what he meant, but really, she didn’t have a clue.

Kevin gave her a crooked smile, one that barely brought out his dimple.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t we take all the pressure off the evening right now?”

She had a laugh at that one. “You do that and you’re my hero for life.”

“Would you mind standing up?” he asked.

Though she couldn’t follow the connection, neither could Lisa see the harm in it. She did as asked. Kevin stood, too, and came around to her side of the table.

Just then the server arrived to take their order.

“If you could hang on for a second?” he asked the woman.

“Sure,” she said, and stepped back a few feet, but lingered. Lisa didn’t doubt that she was curious. Lisa certainly was.

“We’re going to make a brief detour to the end of the evening,” he said and then extended his hand.

“How?” she asked, feeling more clueless by the second.

“Trust me.” He thrust out his hand a little farther, reminding her that it was there. Because she didn’t want to be ungracious, she took it. His grip was warm and firm. She liked the fact that his palm was a little rough with calluses from his work. And she especially liked the way his warmth seemed to be crossing over into her, making her feel bright inside…lit by an exciting sort of vitality she hadn’t felt in ages.

“I’ve really enjoyed my time with you,” he said as he shook her hand. “But then again, I always do.”

The noise and laughter and even the curious waitress moved so far into the background of Lisa’s awareness that they might have disappeared. There was only this man.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“I have a confession,” he said.

“What is it?”

“Even though I told you that it wasn’t, I thought of tonight as a date. And I’ve wanted a date with you for a while now.”

Her heart fluttered in a very, very good way. “Really?”

“Truth,” he said with a nod. “You’ll always get the truth from me.”

Lisa found that more tempting than a promise of yachts and diamonds.

“Okay,” she said.

He briefly squeezed tighter on her hand, and the thrill of that warmth again rolled across to her. For all that she noticed their spectators, Malloy’s might as well have been a private island paradise.

“Is it okay if I kiss you good-night?” he asked.

She nodded her head in assent.

Kevin leaned forward and gave her a kiss so brief and yet tender that she wanted more. Much more. But with a broad smile and one word—nice—he let go of her hand.

“Now that we’ve gotten out of the way that killer question of how the night’s going to end, let’s enjoy the evening, okay?” Kevin asked.

Lisa nodded absently. When he pulled out her chair, she again sat. But as she ordered her meal, and as they ate, and even through the rest of their evening’s talk—which was admittedly much more fun for having gotten the kiss out of the way—one word haunted her.

Nice.

DINNER WAS OVER, AND THEY were closing the distance to Courtney’s house. Lisa, in fact, seemed to be taking on a racewalker’s stride, and Kevin wouldn’t bet against her arriving there one long-legged step ahead of him.

He knew he’d been taking a gamble by kissing her in the front window of Malloy’s. He wasn’t worried about the gossip. Hell, he invited it. They were both single, consenting adults, and he preferred that the other guys who hovered around her—not that she ever noticed—believe that the two of them had something going. All the same, he wasn’t sure he’d won the gamble. Lisa had relaxed, and he’d managed to keep his foot out of the general vicinity of his mouth for the rest of the night, but it had almost felt as though she hadn’t been paying full attention to him. Before, even if she’d been trying to avoid him, he’d been darned certain that she wasn’t apathetic toward him.

Courtney’s house loomed just ahead.

“You really don’t have to walk with me,” Lisa said for the second time since they’d departed the restaurant. He had no shortage of self-esteem, but she was beginning to make him worry.

“I know I don’t. I just want to.”

That slowed her a step. He took advantage of the moment and wove his fingers through hers. She glanced down at their laced hands, but didn’t object. If he couldn’t coax words from her, he’d figure out what was going on by physical cues. If she still liked him enough to touch him, he remained in the game. Except that this was too personal and too important to him to think of as a game.

“Well, thanks again for dinner,” she said when they’d reached Courtney’s broad covered porch.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

Neither of them reached to press Courtney’s doorbell and end the evening. They stood there in silence long enough that the night’s first crickets, who had stilled on their arrival, began their song again. Kevin was busy deciding whether he would confuse personal matters more by asking for another kiss when Lisa spoke.

“Here’s the thing,” she said. “Right now, I want more than nice. It’s been a really long time, and I know I’m not being at all consistent, which stinks for you, but nice is like a Sweet Sixteen party, and—”

“Hold on,” he said, settling his hands on her shoulders. Her words were tumbling so quickly, one over the other, that it was like climbing his way up a landslide to reach her meaning. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

“When you kissed me, you said that it was nice.”

“And this is a bad thing?”

“Generally, no.”

“Generally?”

“I’m not opposed to nice. I mean, it beats the alternative.”

Her sense of humor and straight-on approach to life had always made him smile. Tonight was no different. “So what’s the issue?”

“I want more than nice,” she said again.

She leaned into him, and he could feel his muscles—and another crucial location—respond.

Ah…

Now he understood, and on the most visceral of levels. She sent her right hand up to touch his jaw and then let her fingertips settle beside his mouth, one caressing where he knew his dimple would be, if he were interested in smiling. Right now, there were other things he planned to do with his mouth.