‘You haven’t asked anythin’ yet.’ His dry comment sent a whoosh of heat racing up her neck. ‘You could say I’m a member of the one percent club. That’s roughly the percentage of people worldwide with heterochromia. I’m sure I don’t have much else in common with Dan Ackroyd, Kate Bosworth and Mila Kunis, but weird eyes are one. Thankfully it’s a benign mutation, so it doesn’t affect most people’s sight, and mine’s fine. They reckon it’s a quirk caused by genes passed down from your parents or by something that happened when our eyes were forming.’
‘That’s fascinating.’ She reddened again. ‘I suppose I should go.’
‘Did you think any more about my dinner offer?’
‘Yes.’ No way was she going to admit it’d been on her mind constantly, interrupting work and everything else she was supposed to be focusing on.
‘Look, if you’re not interested, just say so and you can still have the paperweight.’
Not interested?Lyndsey’s heart thudded. If her younger sister could be brave enough, or crazy enough, to throw in the towel on her old life, surelyshecould accept one date with the first man who’d piqued her interest in years? Only it wouldn’t be simply one date, or at least she hoped not, and that’s the part that frightened her most.
‘I’d love to have dinner with you.’ Oh, God she was doomed. That was the only thought lodging in her head when a huge, sexy smile lit up Griff, as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
‘Good.’ He nodded. ‘You can let me know when it suits Becca for you to be absent from duty.’
‘I will.’ She appreciated his understanding her family obligations needed to come first. ‘I’ll take that if you like.’ Lyndsey gestured to the empty glass in his hand.
‘Thanks.’
‘It’ll save you sullying the clean kitchen.’ She ran off with a swing in her step and his peal of warm laughter followed her.
Chapter Eight
Griff wriggled his aching shoulders and stretched his arms behind his back hard enough to give his spine a satisfying pop. Even though he’d taken the trouble to design his workshop to suit his height, being hunched over for hours took its toll. In about another hour or so, he should be through with cutting out the ninety-five pieces of glass for the first panel.He glanced anxiously over at his phone, safely encased in a plastic bag, sitting there in reproachful silence, as if telling him it wasn’t the phone’s fault Lyndsey hadn’t called yet.It’d been two long weeks since she agreed to have dinner with him, but he’d known how busy she was, so he needed to rein in his impatience.
‘It’s me; I’ve got something for you. May I come in?’
Lyndsey. Did she know he’d been thinking about her — again?He recklessly sprang up from the stool; if he’d been handling a piece of glass, it would be scattered over the floor now in thousands of pieces.
‘Uh, yes and no. You can open the door, but please don’t step inside.’Frustratingdidn’t cover it, but he mustn’t let his desire to be close to her override her safety.
The door inched open and she peeked around, the sight of her smiling face lifting his spirits. ‘Sorry, I should’ve rung first.’
‘I couldn’t have answered.’ Griff lifted up his hands. ‘Everywhere is covered in glass dust. You can open the door fully and stand there, that’s the best I can offer.’
‘Wow, you’ve been busy.’ Lyndsey peered across at the labeled pieces of glass, arranged on a big table over his right shoulder.
‘Eighty-five down and another ten to go.’ He pointed to the sheet of bright pink glass in front of him. ‘That’s going to be a dancing lobster.’
Her dark arched brows shot up. ‘You’ve been artistically inspired by seafood?’
‘I had to be.’ Griff explained about the panels he was making for a new Nashville seafood and steak restaurant. Translating the customer’s vision was, in many ways, the most challenging part of the equation; on this occasion the restaurant’s owner wanted to inject a note of humor. It’d been a struggle to track down the right shade of shocking pink glass, but he’d finally found some for sale at his favorite online German outlet.
She held up a white plastic box. ‘It’s a thank you from Becca for your grass-cutting endeavors the other day.’
‘Don’t tell me — let me guess — it’s the millionaire’s shortbread she’s got me hooked on?’
‘Got it in one.’
‘Awesome. Would you mind putting it inside the cabin door for me?’
‘Oh, okay, but I promise I won’t go poking around.’
‘Wouldn’t bother me.’
‘I’ll do that then.’ Her color flared. ‘I meant drop the cake off, not sneak around.’
Seeing her flustered boosted his confidence a few centimeters. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one shaken by the attraction between them after all.
