She stared at him for a few seconds, something flickering behind those dark eyes. Then she stepped out of the way. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of being unneighborly.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” he said, climbing onto the ladder and bending the hook just a little so it fit the bracket better. “You think Lila’s talking about you now, just wait until she hears about that.”
Beckett got the sign attached and climbed back down. They both stared at it instead of each other, and the significance of that sign weighed heavy on him. That sign meant permanence. She was back and she was back to stay.
He could be patient. However long it took.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Because I don’t want people around here to get the wrong impression about you being unneighborly, I’ve got an idea I want to run by you.”
“I can’t wait to hear it,” she said, deadpan, one eyebrow arching and a sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“Do you cook?”
She paused before answering. “I’ve been known to.”
“What about baking? Do you make pies? Cakes? Brownies?”
“I can’t imagine what you’re getting at, Hamilton, but I think you’re up to funny business.”
He held his hands up in an innocent gesture. “I’ve only got your best interests at heart. I was just going to say that if you want to practice being neighborly, maybe you could rustle up something sweet to eat and bring it by the house later. I figure you might need some practice before really getting into the thick of things.”
She tried to look stern, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I don’t think so.”
“Sure, I understand. You’re busy tonight. How about tomorrow night?”
“Listen—Beckett?—”
“That doesn’t sound good. You know I’m just going to keep asking. It’s been fifteen years, Marnie. We were friends once.”
Her expression shifted, closing off just a little. “I don’t have the time or energy to pick up where we left off right now. All I can be is friends.”
“Ah-ha!” he said. “You said ‘right now.’ Which means if I keep asking, you’ll eventually say yes.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve learned some hard lessons in my life. And the most important one is that I’m better off on my own. Someone like me—” She shrugged, and the empty gesture broke his heart. “Let’s just say people are usually better off staying away from me. I can’t help what I am.”
“That’s the thing, Marnie. I’ve always liked you for who you are. That’ll never change. And if you bothered to look, you’d see that you can trust me.”
“I don’t want to look,” she countered. “How could you ever trust me if you knew I could just slip inside whenever I wanted and see your thoughts?”
“I’d say it would save me a lot of time trying to explain things. Believe me, if I had my way, I’d love to be able to read a few minds now and then. Women confuse me to no end, and it’d be nice to know what you were thinking at least some of the time. But your head has always been hard as a rock, so I probably couldn’t get through anyway.”
“Insulting me doesn’t sound like the neighborly thing to do.”
“That was a compliment, sweetheart. Why would I want to spend time with a woman with a soft head? That makes no sense.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And charming as ever. If you can’t make a good chocolate cake, I’m also partial to brownies.”
She had to laugh. The sound was rusty but real, and it lit up her whole face. “No.”
“Good thing I’ve always been patient.”
She folded up the ladder and moved toward the door of her shop. “I’ve got a lot of work to do,” she said, trying to dismiss him. “And I’m sure you need to go tend to your cows.”
Beckett grinned at the not-so-subtle attempt to get rid of him. Yeah, she had some spine left in her after all.
“Why don’t you read my mind right now, Marnie,” he said, arching a brow in challenge.
