Читать книгу A Mummy For His Baby - Molly Evans, Molly Evans - Страница 11

CHAPTER FOUR

MAYBE COMING HOME hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. Though returning to her childhood home had been a temporary plan, she liked how it felt right now. Cathy would be off for at least six weeks, so she had that long to think about things and maybe come up with another plan.

“What are you thinking about?” Beau set his spoon down and placed his hand over hers on the table. “You look so intense, so sad.”

“I was just thinking how far we’ve come since high school.”

She squeezed his hand and enjoyed the warmth of it in hers. Of course they’d touched. Many times. But now, in the closeness of the little apartment, things seemed different somehow. More grown up. More intimate than she’d imagined.

“You’re right.” He nodded and kept hold of her hand. “We’ve come a long way for sure. Sometimes I look back at who I was then and can’t believe I was such a self-centered, immature jerk.”

“Oh, Beau!” She leaned back in her chair with a laugh. “You were not.” No way. At least not the way she remembered it.

“Seriously?” Doubt shone in his eyes. “You don’t know half the things I did back then. I thought I was such hot stuff, that I could have any girl I wanted. Cheerleaders. Homecoming queens. Any girl I set my eyes on.” He shook his head and drew his mouth to the side. “I was an idiot. All ego. No brains. Not like you.”

“I certainly wasn’t all brains—and you weren’t all ego.” Amusement shot through her. “Maybe a little. If you were so bad I could never have been your friend, you know.” She lifted one shoulder.

“Really?” Beau’s brows shot upward. “How do you figure that, Miss Academic Student of the Year?”

“Oh, that was a silly thing. A fluke, really. I was so shy and introverted in high school I could barely talk to guys, let alone be friends with one.” A light pink colored her neck. “Or ever think of going out with a jock.”

She leaned closer, conspiratorially.

“I did have a secret crush on you, though. You were totally into the hot babes, and never looked at me like that, so I got over it.” Or so she’d thought. Until now. Until she’d looked into those green eyes again.

“You... What? Now that’s a surprise.” He crossed his arms over his chest and a curious expression showed on his face. His brows came together and an intensity showed in his eyes, as if she’d just told him some deep, dark secret. “You thought I was out of reach, yet you picked me to be friends with? That’s odd.”

“No, actually...” she said with a laugh, and pointed at him with her spoon. “You picked me. Don’t you remember?”

“No. Refresh my memory.”

“In Mrs. Dixon’s typing class.” A memory and a laugh bubbled up inside her as she recalled him trying to squeeze his bulk behind the small desk the computers had been set on.

“No way. I don’t remember that. All I remember is struggling to get my fingers on the keyboard and not totally screw things up.”

“Yes—you said if I helped you with typing you’d get me into all the football games the rest of the season for free.”

“I did?”

Surprise showed clearly on his face. He didn’t remember.

That tidbit disappointed her. He obviously hadn’t had the same sort of feelings for her that she’d had for him. This reinforced that she’d been right to keep her feelings to herself. Pining after him would only have brought her heartache.

“Yes, you did.”

“I don’t remember it that way at all.”

“No? Well, that’s exactly how it was.”

That particular memory was clearly etched in her mind. How embarrassed she’d been when he’d talked to her—then how thrilled she’d been that he’d talked to her! All for naught, as it turned out.

“Nothing is exactly anything—let alone memories so old. I think you’re yanking my chain.” He narrowed his eyes playfully at her, trying to discern the truth.

“You’re right, Beau. Nothing is ever exact or perfect, the way we thought it would be when we were kids.”

She had to admit that. Nothing in her life had been that way. Not ever. And it was one of the reasons she’d left town so soon after nursing school. She’d wanted—needed—something in her life to be perfect, and she’d known she’d never get it here. At the time, that was how her mind had worked. Now she wasn’t so sure there was a perfect anything out there.

At the time she’d thought her happiness had lain out there. Somewhere. Somewhere else. Somewhere new, different, exotic. Someplace where she knew she’d fit in. Where no one knew her past or had preconceived notions of what she should be. No one would try to make her fit into a mold they’d developed for her. Where she could live and be herself, with no one to please except herself.

Beau leaned back and patted his abdomen again. “Nothing’s perfect except for this stew. I’d be tempted to stay with your mother just for her cooking.”

With his words the tension in her eased and she relaxed.

“I know. She is a great cook, but it doesn’t come without strings.”

Yet another reason she’d had to leave her mother’s home as soon as she could. But despite all her faults Aurora loved her mother, and had to accept her as she was—not continue to wish she were different. Another part of her childhood that she had to let go of.

“That’s too bad, ’cause she’s a really great cook.”

One corner of Aurora’s mouth lifted. “And then there’s her bread.” Another thing Aurora had to admit was a huge bonus of hanging out with her mother. She loved to bake and was excellent at it. “She tried to teach me, but I only made lead bread so I gave up.”

“It’s amazing.”

“Incredible.”

“Which is unfortunate.”

“Why?” A confused frown crossed Aurora’s face.

“Well, if she was a good cook and a bad baker, then I could justify a strike against her. If she was bad at both, that would be two strikes.”

“I see. So since she’s good at both, then it’s two points in her favor?”

* * *

Fortunately, Beau hadn’t lost his sense of humor. It had kept him from going crazy with grief after his wife’s death. It made him see things a little differently, but he liked it that way. It had helped him turn himself around after the worst time in his life. It had helped him begin to view life in a different way.

“You got it. You catch on quick.”

He winked, and a little squiggle of pleasure shot through him as she held his gaze just a little bit longer. That was interesting. She’d had a crush on him and he’d never noticed? He was an idiot. At least he had been back then. Now he could appreciate what a great woman Aurora had become.

“You have a strange scoring system.” She laughed and shook her head.

The outer corners of her eyes crinkled up and the laugh came from her chest, not her throat, and was a genuine expression. That made him feel good. That he’d made her laugh when the past few months had been filled with anything but joy for either of them.

“Well, it works for me. I have to say that.”

After they’d finished, he took the dishes to the sink. Aurora rose with obvious stiffness in her back.

“Just put them in the sink. I’ll deal with them later.”

Beau could hear the fatigue in her voice, and her eyes were dark with pain. “Come here.”

She approached, and he turned her to face away from him, her back against his chest.

“What? What are you doing?”

“Just relax. I’m going to do another gentle treatment on you. A fine tuning.”

“Er...now?” Surprise lifted her voice into a question.