He’d spoken with her a few times, and texted lots more. But she’d been silent since yesterday afternoon, and when he’d called Logan on a Friday night, his brother’s first question had been, “Why aren’t you out with Farrah?”
That had sent Darren into a tailspin. He’d gone by her house, the way he used to do when he was crushing on a girl in high school. Maybe not exactly like that. He and Logan hadn’t seemed to ever have a problem getting dates. Logan was a real charmer, and girls found Darren’s quiet, mysterious demeanor intriguing. Usually.Teenagegirls had.
But Farrah’s house had been dark. Her car gone.
She’d been out on a Friday night, and he’d been too much of a chicken to text her and find out where she was.
He took his time riding back to the farm, gave Paintbrush the royal treatment in horse care, and made sure all the weekend chores were done before he went into the farmhouse. The country stillness extended into the house, and Darren breathed in the peacefulness of it.
Showered and ready for a date, he called Farrah, praying she’d answer. When she did, her voice sounded guarded. Maybe. Maybe just rushed. He wasn’t sure.
“I was hopin’ you didn’t have plans tonight,” he said. “And that maybe we could…do something.”
“Oh.” She exhaled, and he could just see her thinking, that adorable line that appeared between her eyes when she did. “I’ve been in the yard all day, and I’m a mess.”
“I’m not in a hurry.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Anything but a crowd.”
She giggled. “You would’ve died at bunko night.”
Confusion pulled through him. He stepped over to the fridge and opened it. “I’m sorry. What’s bunko night?”
“Meagan invited me, and I went last night. You would not believe the noise. Crashing dice, and screeching ladies, and trash talk.”
“Trash talk?” Darren paused in lifting a water bottle to his lips. “What did you say?”
“Nothing, I swear.” She laughed fully now, and he wished he was with her so he could bask in her happiness. “But I had a great time. Meagan says if someone drops out next year, I can have the spot.”
“You’ll have to tell me what that means when I come over.” He started drinking, his eyes landing on the keys hanging on the hook nearby. He swallowed. “When can I come over?”
“I’ll go jump in the shower right now.”
“Great, see you in a few.” Darren hung up, thinking he could just drive slow. Maybe entertain her cat while she did whatever she did with her makeup to enhance her natural beauty.
He arrived at her house, the evidence of her green thumb in the trimmed lawn, the newly barked flowerbeds, the pruned bushes and trees. Bolt, her gray tabby, sat on top of the front steps like a guard.
Darren eyed him as he parked and got out of the truck. “Hey, kitty cat.”
The cat just stared, not even a twitch of the tail. It was no wonder Darren liked dogs better. He went past the animal and knocked on the door. Farrah opened it a few moments later, her hair still damp. The fruity-soft scent of her conditioner drifted into his nose, and he leaned against the doorjamb.
“The yard looks amazing.”
“Getting ready for winter,” she said. “It can come fast here.”
“Yeah.” Darren couldn’t seem to look away from her. She hadn’t put her makeup on yet, but she didn’t need it. He wanted to apologize for his days of silence. For his Friday night blunder. He reached for her, slipping his hand around the back of her neck, right into that silky hair, and bringing her mouth to his.
His kiss was filled with apology and hers with acceptance. He ended the union sooner than he would’ve liked and leaned his forehead against hers. “So I was thinking we could grab something to go and go out to the Bybee’s. Or the lake.”
“Lake,” she whispered. “I spend all day at that farm.”
Of course she did. Darren hadn’t been out there since she’d told him about her non-husband—whose name she still used—and he missed the tranquility of it. But the lake would do.
Darren loved Lake Champlain late in the year, and he’d spent some time on it the first winter all the brothers lived in Vermont. Sam was a fan of ice fishing, and Darren was the only one who would go with him. He hadn’t been since his brother had gone back to Wyoming, at least not in the winter.
He’d been back a few times in the warmer months, but he didn’t enjoy boating or lying in the sun, and he had too much work to do besides. But a picnic dinner on the beach sounded pretty great.
