“You’re talking to one of its most vocal supporters when it nearly got shut down ten years ago.”
Remy edged around the edge of the bed to peer out the small window overlooking the gardens behind the B and B. Another couple who were staying in the hotel were taking tea out under an awning while the hostess hurried to bring out another silver-covered platter.
“That’s right. I forgot I was talking to the former mayor’s daughter.”
“I’m an activist at heart.”
“I’m not a project for you.” He said it more sharply than he’d intended, but he got the impression that Erin was a fix-it kind of woman, and not just because she renovatedher own shop with power tools. Sometimes caring people could offer too much help.
“No,” she agreed. “You’re not my project. But you’ll be glad for a steak with me tomorrow since Sarah already has plans.”
He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. He liked this woman and all her capable, no-nonsense attitude. There was no denying it.
“I’ll bring dessert,” he said finally. “I found a restaurant up the street that brings in locally made cupcakes.”
Remy told himself he was only agreeing for the meal and not for the way Erin Finley got under his skin. She was too damn easy to talk to, yes. But maybe she had a point about him not getting out more.
“I love cupcakes.” She smiled when she said it, he could tell. “Get the lemon-berry, if you see them. They’re fantastic.”
Chapter Eight
When Erin hadbad ideas, apparently they happened in threes.
Shoving the charred foil packet of potatoes away from the flames on the grill, she cursed herself for all three of those ideas. First, for deciding to start something with a guy who had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her. Second, for confiding to Bethany and Nina that she was going to act on that decision. And third, for inviting him to this dumb dinner. She’d asked him in a fit of optimism, thinking they could enjoy each other’s company while forgetting their pasts.
But while she was just trying to scrub the memory of a loser who had lied to her, Remy was still grappling with the traumatic loss of his wife. A loss he unreasonably blamed himself for.
How the hell had she ever thought sex and steak could fix that?
Burned potatoes sure wouldn’t.
By the time her doorbell rang—the classic chime echoing through her sparsely furnished house and bouncingoff the ceramic tile floors all the way to the back patio—she was close to tears. She had not shed a single tear for her loser ex-boyfriend since the day she’d found out he was married, and here she was sniffling hard. Erin slammed the grill shut and turned off the heat.
Marching through the house, she flung open the front door. Only to find Remy on her porch looking as lost and miserable as she felt.
To his credit, he held a bakery box in one hand and a bag from the liquor store in the other. His hazel gaze flicked over her, taking in her vintage pink sundress and skinny white patent leather belt paired with gray argyle tennis shoes. As she stared right back, she couldn’t help but think how they were a mismatch on so many levels. Remy was classically handsome in dark jeans and a white tee with a camel-colored linen jacket.
His dark hair was neatly combed, the ends curling at his collar, still damp. Her heartbeat jumped at the thought of him showering for this…for her. And that, right there, was why she’d been so pushy with him. She was crushing on him like a teenager no matter how much she wanted to deny it.
“Hi.” He awkwardly held up the goods. “I may have overbought since I was hungry and everything looked good.”
“You show grace under pressure when I practically twisted your arm into dinner.” She took the bag and the box. “Come on in and let me apologize for being so bossy. It’s a bad habit of mine.”
“No apology necessary.” He followed her through the living area where white leather couches and bright blue glass lamps made the room look like a Wedgwood dish. A rattan coffee table and accent furniture kept it from being too fussy looking. “Nice place you have.”
“Thank you.” She took a left into the kitchen. “I like decorating and I find plenty of cool stuff when I go on buying trips for the store. It’s a constant battle not to cram the house full of things I think are neat.”
She felt nervous and tempted to call off the whole thing. Send him back to the B and B. But after he’d showered, shopped and shown up she also didn’t want to be rude.
“Erin—”
“Remy—” She started at the same time so they talked on top of each other. “You go first.”
“I just wanted to thank you for inviting me over.” He took her hand to turn her toward him. Then he let it go quickly, almost as if he wanted to make sure not to touch her. “I know I may not be the best company, but it was a good idea to have a place to go while Sarah is out. You were right about that.”
Relieved she’d had good instincts aboutsomething, she relaxed a little, though her hand still tingled warm where he’d touched her.
“You may rescind those words once you see how badly I burned the potatoes.” She set the wine on the wooden kitchen island and searched for a corkscrew. “I’ve been nervous all day, feeling like I twisted your arm into coming here.”
