For a second, his attention wavered, and Claire couldhave sworn he shot a look over at her bulletin board.
“I have a great idea,” he said, turning his full attentionon her and making her unforgivably giddy.
She was already smiling completely against her will. Drawn to his enthusiasm, as if it were light or warmth.“What?”
“Hooky. Do you have a shift today?”
“If I had, I would have been there by now. I do have arestaurant to run, however. Johnny has work, and Jess haslessons and—”
Tony lifted a hand in exception. “I want to see some examples of Colonial architecture. So I can better judge whatyou want in finishing your rooms.”
“I’ll give you a map.”
“Give me a tour. We’ll pack a lunch. We can take the kidsif you want. I bet we have enough leftover chicken last nightto invite the crew of theYorktown.”
“Tony—”
“When was the last time you went on a picnic, Claire?”
It would have been pointless to think about it. She hadn’thad time for anything that frivolous since Sam.
She didn’t have the time now.
Suddenly that didn’t matter so much. She wanted to go.She wanted, for once in her life, just to have fun. She didn’t want to think of the consequences or the pressures that stillbuilt in her chest without relief or the cost to her or herchildren or Tony. She wanted to be selfish and play with herchildren and this man with his talent for life.
“Not today,” she found herself saying, hoping he’d argue with her. Hoping he’d change his mind and go back to work.
He didn’t. “Tomorrow.”
“Hospital.”
“You’ve never called in sick?”
Claire couldn’t exactly face him with her answer. “Notunless I was.”
But then, sick covered a lot of sins. And she’d committed a goodly portion of them in her career. She couldn’tcommit any more.
“The day after.”
She lifted her head and glared. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”
He grinned, brash as a teenager. “It’s against my religion. I’m a Marine, and Marines never retreat.”
She fought another grin. “They just strategically regroup.”
“Not around a woman, they don’t.”
She wanted to laugh. She wanted to scream. He was toosure of himself, and she was too frightened. She wanted toomuch and was afraid of it all.
She could so easily fall in love with him.
“Day after tomorrow,” she said, spinning around andheading for the door.
“Claire.”
She halted, her line of sight including the hallway, thelovely oak-and-glass front door, the willow tree looking likean impressionistic painting outside. Quiet order, orderedbeauty. Everything she’d been fighting for for so long. Whywas it suddenly not enough?
“It’s only a picnic.”
