“Oh…wow,” Vivien said as she sampled her lasagne Bolognese a moment later. “This isheavenly. I haven’t had a meal this good since I left New York. How’s yours?”
He’d ordered grilled branzino with sides of pasta aglio olio and green beans. “Pretty good. Not that I expected anything less. Pop knows where to get his Italian food.”
“I hope the osso bucco is up to snuff,” she said.
“If this is any indication, I’d say it will be. Vivien, I’m worried about you.”
She paused with a bite of lasagne halfway to her mouth. “Because of the break-ins at the theater? Or because of the ghost?”
“Because someone wants to hurt you—if not physically, then at least financially. I know Captain Longbow and Helga are working their angles, following up on their leads, but that doesn’t make me worry less.”
“I appreciate that. I’ve been thinking about this logically—pretty much nonstop. The bottom line is, someone doesn’t want the theater to open, either because it’smeor because they just don’t want the theater to open. I can’t think of any reason why either would be true—wouldn’t anyone who lives in Wicks Hollow want another successful business to keep the economy of the place going? And have what was sort of an eyesore become a viable business? And I really can’t think of any reason someone from high school would hate me so much that they’d do all these things.”
He twirled the wine glass stem between his fingers. “Is there any chance Roger Hatchard or his son are involved? Or Michael Wold or—who’s the actress? Oh, Penny someone.”
“Penny Stern, and absolutely none. None of them are even in Wicks Hollow—and aren’t scheduled to be here until the last week in August. Roger is doing this as a favor to me—”
“As a favor to his son’s girlfriend, you mean.”
Ah. So that was where this was going. “Daniel and I weren’t serious at all. I haven’t talked to him for over a week. It’s not him or Roger, Jake—it’s justnot.”
He shrugged. “All right.” He relaxed a little. “But the fact remains, someone’s out to get you. First it was just scary things, then it was your car. I’m worriedyoumight be next, VL.”
Her insides squiggled a little. She’d been trying not to think about that obvious escalation. “I’m best friends with a cop—everyone in town knows that. Plus, you saw my place—it’s practically on top of the neighbors on all sides. Everything that’s happened so far has been at the theater, so I’m inclined to think it’s going to stay focused there. But,” she added, “Helga offered Butch to me, and maybe I’ll take her up on having him stay the night.”
“That’s a good idea,” he said reluctantly. “But—and I’m just going to put this out there—you don’t have to stay alone. If you’re nervous about being alone at night.”
“I’m not, but it might be a good idea to bunk somewhere else for a night or two,” she said, feeling a mischievous grin twitch her lips. “Does your dad have an extra bed at his house?”
“What?” His eyes went wide, then he laughed. “Oh, he’dlovethat.”
She laughed too. “I was only joking—unless you think it would be good for him to have someone there when he gets home from the hospital. Anyway, I’m not worried about staying alone—especially if I can have Butch.”
“Well, at least put my cell number in your phone. Just in case,” he said.
“I already have your number—I mean, I still have it from NYU…unless you changed it.”
Vivien had nearly deleted it a hundred times over the years, but something had always kept her from doing so. She’d told herself it was because she wanted to know if the lying, cheating dickwad ever tried to contact her again—just so she could have the pleasure of ignoring him.
He looked surprised, but he made no comment. “It’s the same. I, uh, Helga gave me yours—for when I was picking you up this morning,” he added lamely.
The server brought their bill just then, along with the to-go order, and Jake swiped up the tab before Vivien even had a chance to take a look at it. “My treat,” he said.
“Jake—”
“Pop insisted. Argue with him, all right?”
When they walked out to his car, Jake paused as he opened the passenger door for her. He had a contemplative look on his face. “You never did tell me what song you were singing in my shower yesterday.”
He was standing very close to her, and Vivien’s heart gave a traitorous thump. God, he was so dark and sexy with all that thick hair blowing in the light breeze and his intense eyes and that amazing mouth she’d been trying not to notice all night…but it was definitely the negroni that was making her head feel light and the rest of her all warm and sizzling and not him. It couldn’t be him.
She gave him a saucy look. “I was singing ‘I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair.’Obviously.”
“Obviously,” he murmured, and she recognized the look in his eyes a heartbeat before he moved in.
His hands, warm and callused, cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. His hips bumped against hers, pinning her lightly against the car as he eased closer, holding her gaze. “But did it work?” he whispered, his breath warm against her mouth. He gently nibbled the top of her parted lips, sliding his tongue lightly along the sensitive underside. “Let’s find out.”
Vivien shivered as she stepped into the kiss and met his mouth—an event that was both wildly, terribly familiar and at the same time new and different.
