Читать книгу The Bachelor's Baby Dilemma - Sheri WhiteFeather, Sheri WhiteFeather - Страница 9

Chapter Four

On the day of the barbecue, Tanner went to the market and picked up three porterhouse steaks. While he was at the store, he considered a hostess gift for Candy.

Maybe an assortment of candy in honor of his old nicknames for her? No, that wouldn’t do. She was too much of a healthy eater now. Besides, he didn’t want to make this about the past.

A bottle of wine? He shook his head. She might not even be serving alcohol at this get-together.

A bouquet of flowers? That didn’t seem right, either. She could pick flowers from her yard and put them in a vase if she wanted to. How about a potted plant, instead? Once again, he nixed it. A plant would be in the way while she was in transition from the move.

Finally it hit him: seeds. She could plant them when she was resettled and ready to start a new garden. Flowers, fruits, herbs, whatever he could find.

Pleased with the idea, he paid for the steaks, then checked his phone and located a nursery. Luckily, it was only a few blocks away.

He drove there, parked his truck and went into the main building, where he found an impressive display of seed packets. He selected them at random, hoping to get a nice variety.

He looked around and noticed a gift bag, already equipped with a bow, so he grabbed that, as well. Once he paid for everything, he put the seeds in the bag, ready to see Candy.

On his way to her house, he wondered if they were becoming friends, if this was the start of something new and fresh. And if it was, how would it affect the heat between them? Would their attraction get in the way? Or would they be able to rein it in?

By the time he turned onto her street and parked his truck, he was as confused as ever, unsure of what to expect when he was around her. But he wasn’t going to let it bog down his brain. Part of the reason she’d arranged the barbecue was to help him get comfortable in an environment where a baby was involved, and he was determined to do that.

He didn’t see Eric’s, car so he assumed that he and Dana weren’t here yet. There were quite a few other vehicles parked on the street, though. This was the type of neighborhood with lots of activity, especially on weekends.

After exiting his truck, he gathered his purchases, climbed the porch steps and noticed that the front door was open. Was that an invitation to enter without ringing the bell?

Splitting the difference, he knocked on the door frame, then poked his head in and called out, “It’s Tanner.”

No one replied. But maybe Candy was in the backyard, setting things up.

He stepped inside and Yogi came around the corner and flashed her big brown eyes. An untrained dog would have run out the door and down the street. This one obviously knew her boundaries.

“Hey, girl,” he said. “Where’s your mistress?”

She turned and looked in the direction of the kitchen.

Impressed, Tanner patted her head. It was like talking to Lassie. “Thanks. I’ll go on in there and give her the steaks I brought.” Yogi sniffed the market bag, and Tanner smiled. “I’ll give you some of mine after it’s cooked, if you’re allowed table scraps.”

On his way to the kitchen, he put the gift bag on the dining room table. He would give it to Candy in a little while, rather than hand it to her right away.

Upon entering the kitchen, he saw her at the counter, shucking corn. The butcher-block island was filled with food she’d already fixed: a relish platter, potato salad, diced fruit, cheese and crackers, chips, dips.

She was facing the window with her back to him. She was also listening to a music device that was clipped to her clothes and plugged into her ears.

She danced while she worked. A soft sway of her hips. The song must have been light and easy. He could have watched her all day. She was wearing a fitted top, khaki shorts and sandals. The bareness of her legs left him wanting more.

More skin. More of everything.

Guilty, he glanced around for the dog. Sure enough, Yogi was observing him while he admired Candy. Tanner made a sheepish expression. It was bad enough that he couldn’t control his attraction to her, let alone getting caught by a Labrador.

“Go tell her I’m here,” he said, making a motion he had no doubt the dog would understand.

Yogi did exactly what he asked and went over to Candy and nudged her leg.

Candy turned and spotted him, removing the buds from her ears. “Oh, my goodness. How long have you been there?”

“Not long.” Tanner tried to behave as if he hadn’t been ogling her. Thank goodness the dog couldn’t talk. “The door was open. I assumed it was okay.”

“It’s totally okay. But I lost track of time.” She glanced at the microwave clock.

He glanced at the clock, too. It was 2:11. The invitation was for two. “When do you think Eric and Dana are going to get here?”

She dusted the corn silk from her fingers. “They called a while ago and said they were going to be late. They wanted to be sure that Jude got his nap before they brought him over. Otherwise he gets more hyper than he already is.”

Jude was the kid who was supposed to make the baby thing easier, but he was starting to sound like a holy terror.

“He’s always into something,” Candy continued. “Perpetual motion, like his mother. But you’re going to adore him. Everyone does.”

Tanner decided he would just have to wait and see. He held up the market bag. “I brought the steaks. I promised Yogi a few bites of mine if she’s allowed.”

“She is, and I’m sure she’ll be eternally grateful. She doesn’t understand my tofu ways.”

“Can’t say as I blame her.” He looked at Yogi. She was dividing her gaze between him and Candy, watching them like a tennis match. He lifted the steaks a little higher. “Is it all right if I put these in the fridge?”

“Oh, here, let me do it.” She came forward and reached for the bag. “Where are my manners, just leaving you standing there like that?”

He didn’t mind standing there, as long she was nearby. He gestured to the center island. “Everything looks great.”

“Thanks. Making party food is fun.” She put away the steaks. “If you’re hungry, you can snack while we’re waiting for Eric and Dana.”

“That’s okay. I can wait.” The chips and dip were tempting, though. He was a sucker for guacamole, the spicier the better, and he suspected hers would have a nice little kick.

Still at the fridge, she asked, “How about some lemonade? It’s freshly squeezed.”

“Courtesy of the tree in the yard? I have no idea what I’m going to do with all of those lemons after I move in. Maybe I’ll bag them up and bring them to you.”

She poured him a glass. “I’d be glad to take them. I have a slew of recipes that involve lemons.”

He accepted the drink. “I don’t do much cooking. I plan to rely on the nanny for that. But I guess I’ll have to learn to fix a few meals when Ivy is old enough to eat solid food.” He shrugged, smiled. “To keep her from starving on the nanny’s days off.”

She smiled, too. “It’s easy to cook for little kids.”

“Unless Ivy turns out to be a picky eater.”

“Is Meagan a picky eater?”

“My sister is a picky everything. No, wait, strike that. She has no discretion when it comes to men.” Rather than get worked up about the baby’s deadbeat dad, he abruptly said, “I brought you a little something.”

“You did?”

“I left it on the dining table. I’ll go get it.”

He grabbed the gift bag, came back and handed it to her.

“This is lovely,” she said, looking at the bag.

“It came like that.” A floral design, topped with a curlicue bow. “I can’t take credit for it.”

She opened the bag and uncovered the seed packages. “Oh, Tanner, these are perfect. Thank you.”

“I figured you could plant them when the time felt right. I imagine you’ll want to have a garden at the next place you live.”

“I definitely will. Eric and Dana have a garden in their backyard that was inspired by mine. I can enjoy theirs while I’m staying with them, but I can’t stay there forever. I’ll need to create new roots for myself.” She sorted through the seeds. “I wonder what these combinations mean.”

“Mean?”

“Just about every plant or flower has a meaning. It’s called floriography. In the Victorian era, people used to communicate through the bouquets they exchanged. They used flower-language dictionaries to help them decipher the codes. I just started learning about it, and I’ve been thinking about planting my next garden that way, by grouping specific plants and flowers together to create messages.”

“That sounds fascinating. I like that idea.”

“Not all of the dictionaries were the same. Some flowers had several different meanings, depending on what dictionary was being used.”

“That could get confusing.”

“I suspect that some of the messages were deciphered incorrectly.” She studied the seed packages again. “I have a book about floriography. Should I look these up?”

“Sure.” Why not? He couldn’t begin to guess what sort of code would be unmasked. “I chose them randomly, so who knows what will surface?”

“The book is over there.” She headed for the antique cart in the corner. “I think it’s on the bottom shelf.” She bent down and scanned a grouping of books. “Here it is.”

Before she got started, he asked, “Will you look up the ivy plant and see if it’s in there?” He couldn’t help but wonder about the name Meagan had picked for her daughter.

Candy went straight to a glossary in the back. “Let’s see. Oh, here we go. Ivy. The first sentiment is ‘wedded love.’ But it also means ‘friendship.’”

He made a face. “Talk about a contradiction in terms. A man sends a woman a wreath of ivy because he regards her as a friend, and she assumes that he wants to marry her.”

She laughed a little. “That would be a disaster. But I prefer ‘wedded love.’ Most women would, I suppose.”

Most marriage-minded women, he thought, and apparently some divorced ones, too. He was already curious about her failed marriage, and now it was driven even deeper into his mind. But why wouldn’t it be, especially after the importance she’d placed all those years ago on being some future guy’s wife?

She shook the seed packet of a flowering shrub and said, “Let’s see what this means.” After checking the glossary, she pursed her lips. “It says, ‘I am dangerous.’”

“Is that supposed to apply to you or to me?”

“To you. The person giving the plant.” She searched his gaze, her eyes locking onto his. “So, are you, Tanner?”

Dangerous? A man capable of creating peril? How was he supposed to respond to something like that? “I guess it depends on how you define it.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t try to figure it out. Maybe it’s better to just take it at face value.”

And assume that he was? “What do the rest of the seeds mean?” Mundane things, he hoped. He didn’t like feeling that his character was on the line.

She went back to the book. “The next one is ‘protection from danger.’” Her voice turned light. “Oh, my goodness, how funny is that?”

Oddly funny. But he was grateful for the reprieve. “First I tell you I’m dangerous, then I offer you protection from danger. I’m quite a guy.”

“You certainly have a way with floriography.”

“So it seems.”

“Should I keep going?” she asked.

“You might as well.” He was too curious to stop now.

Again, she consulted the book. “Now you’re asking me to dance.”

“I am?”

“Yes. It says, ‘Will you dance with me?’”

“I saw you dancing by yourself earlier.”

Her cheeks flushed. “That was embarrassing.”

“I thought you looked cute. And there’s no need to be embarrassed around me. I’ve seen you dance by yourself before.”

She gave him a pointed look. “Performing on stage is different from assuming that you’re alone in your kitchen.”

He shrugged, trying to get himself off the hook. “As long as we’re talking dances, do you remember what kind of flowers that were on the corsage I gave you when I took you to the prom?”

“Yes, I remember. A girl doesn’t forget the first time a boy gives her a corsage.” She glanced at her wrist, as if the ornament was still there. “It was a white carnation with baby’s breath.”

“And what do those mean?”

She checked the glossary. “White carnations symbolize innocence.” After a slight pause, she added, “That’s what baby’s breath means, too.”

“Go figure. A dangerous boy and an innocent girl.” He was beginning to enjoy these messages, to see them in a whole new way. “Maybe there is something to this flower-language stuff.”

She closed the book with a soft whoosh, fluttering its pages. “You’re only saying that because I got stuck with the innocent mantle.”

“Would you rather have a wild mantle?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Just tell me what flower symbolizes a wanton woman, and I’ll give you one of those the next time I take you dancing.”

“You aren’t taking me anywhere, smarty.”

“According to the floriography, I already asked you to dance.” He bowed like a gentleman caller who was going to waltz her around the kitchen.

She laughed. “Go use your charms on someone else.”

“Don’t be hasty.” Still bent at the waist, he peered up at her. “Have you forgotten my offer of protection?”

“From the dangerous cad that you are?” She moved away from him. “I think it’s time for me to finish cleaning the corn.”

“Sure. Go ahead. Just let me suffer here alone.”

She rolled her eyes and returned to the sink. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

All jokes aside, now he wanted to take her dancing. He wanted to sweep her off to bed, too, to lose himself in her innocence or wildness or whatever role she chose to play. Of course, he’d already surmised that she wasn’t the play-around type. That didn’t stop him from wishing otherwise, though.

Now Tanner needed a diversion, something to take his mind off doing bad things to her. “I think I’ll grab some chips and dip.”

He prepared a plate and stood off to the side, trying to clear the sexual toxins from his pores. But it didn’t work. The spices in the guacamole were as sizzling as he’d assumed they would be, making his blood hotter.

She went back to the corn, leaving him to his own devices. He drank the rest of his lemonade, wishing he could douse himself with it instead.

Luckily, Eric and Dana and their son soon arrived, and Tanner gladly redirected his focus.

He and Eric shook hands, and introductions were made. Dana said hello and offered a big smile. She was a shapely blonde who appeared to be in her mid-to-late twenties, whereas Eric was in his forties. Tanner hadn’t expected an age difference. But it didn’t matter. They looked natural together.

As for Jude, he was a cute little pistol, with his father’s Native coloring and his mother’s bright blue eyes. He squirmed and laughed and tried to leap out of Dana’s arms to get to Candy.

“Canny!” he squealed in his toddler speak.

“Jude!” she replied with equal enthusiasm and reached for him. Just as quickly, he was looped around her, puckering up for a kiss. Smack. Smack. The exchange was deliberately loud and admirably sweet.

“He adores her,” Dana said with pride.

Tanner merely nodded. He couldn’t seem to stop watching them. Jude rested his head against Candy’s shoulder and flashed a set of devilish dimples. In that cozy instant, Tanner wondered, once again, why she hadn’t had kids of her own. But mostly he wondered about her ex and why their marriage had gone south.

“Is everyone ready to barbecue?” Candy asked, adjusting the imp in her arms.

“Yes, let’s do it,” Dana replied, reaching for a platter.

Eric helped carry the food, too. He also offered to fire up the grill, and he and his wife went outside together. Yogi followed them out the door. Somewhere between the floriography and Eric’s family arriving, Tanner had lost track of the dog.

And now he and Candy were alone in the kitchen with the other couple’s child. Jude was still nuzzled against her shoulder, using it like a pillow.

The boy cocked his head and pointed to Tanner. “You?”

“Me?”

“He wants to know your name,” Candy said.

Tanner cleared his throat. He didn’t know how to have a conversation with a toddler. Too many years had passed since Meagan was little, and as vivid as his memories about Ella were, she was too young to have started talking before she died.

He gave it his best shot. “I’m Tanner.”

“Tanny,” the boy replied.

Canny for Candy, and Tanny for him. Was Jude lumping them together in his young mind? Should he correct him?

Tanner looked to Candy for help. But she was biting back a grin, as if she thought it was funny. He was outnumbered. He’d probably been outsmarted, too. For all he knew, Jude was a prodigy who could speak like a scholar.

The three of them went outside to join Eric and Dana, and the barbecue got under way.

Eric cooked the steaks. He also placed the tofu kebabs Candy had fixed for herself on the grill.

When they sat down to eat, Jude reached for his mother, then his father, then went back to Candy, taking turns on each adult’s lap. Tanner was getting dizzy just watching him. It was like musical chairs without the music.

As he watched the scene unfold, he felt slighted that he’d been left out. Yet he was relieved, too. He had mixed emotions about being part of Jude’s hold-me circle. He wasn’t sure if he could’ve handled it. But that didn’t stop him from analyzing every move the little tyke made.