“That’s probably a wise decision. I imagine Detective Lawson will be returning soon, and I don’t think he’d be happy to see us alone together. Not with knowing how you’re my beau and all.” She bumped his side and offered him a shy smile.
Was she teasing or flirting? Why couldn’t the woman be more straightforward in what she wanted?
Well, if she opened the door, he wasn’t going to ignore the opportunity.
“Speaking of beaux …”Please don’t let me make a muck of this, Lord.“I’ve read several of your novels, but I can’t seem to figure what it is that you desire in a man.”
She shrugged as they passed outside into the glow of a setting sun. “The heroes in my books aren’t written for me. They’re written for the heroines of the stories. Each couple has their own unique qualities necessary to make the match true and lasting. I’ve not written a hero who matches exactly what I want.”
“Oh. Then what sort of hero would you design for yourself?” Nervous perspiration formed under his arms, and he prayed the lingering stench from Ross’s death would cover the potential smell.
A small smile curved her lips like she knew what he was about but wasn’t willing to let on. “I suppose I want a man who loves Christ, loves his family, and loves me.”
“That’s all? You’re not waiting for someone who rescues you from a burning building by swimming across a flooded river?”
Her squeaky laugh escaped. “I suppose that would be admirable, but not a requirement. Sometimes it’s just fun to write the ridiculous and see how far I can take it before readers denounce my stories as utter rubbish.”
The smile in her voice revealed how much her writing was a part of her. She derived absolute joy from it. No wonder she’d sobbed in his arms at the death of her future novels. If only she’d stuck to romances instead of adding mysteries. Then again, they might never have crossed paths had she remained strictly on the acceptable feminine publishing path.
Lydia stopped walking and angled them toward the back hedges, where the sun sank. A painter’s palette spilled across the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple. The view was far from perfect, but it must have been enough. Her voice took on a dreamy lilt as she continued speaking.
“No. What I desire above all things is real love, and real love comes from the ordinary. Only, to those two people, the ordinary becomes something extraordinary. Little touches, walking through the trials of life together, fighting for each other as needed. That’s what I want. An ordinary man who becomes extraordinary simply because I love him.”
An ordinary man. Right. Because that is what sold romance novels by the thousands. The woman must be lying to herself. She didn’t want someone ordinary. She wanted a hero disguised as ordinary.
“And how exactly does one move from the ordinary to extraordinary in your eyes?”
She arched a brow. “You mean, aside from what I’ve already stated?”
“Little touches and walking through the trials of life together aren’t exactly specific.”
“Then allow me to be more specific.” Impishness edged the corner of her mouth upward as she turned back to the fading sunset. “To move from the ordinary to the extraordinary, my future beau must remove a monkey from my hair, speak difficult truths into my life even when unwanted, sleep on my friend’s sofa to guard my family, and read my dime novels even though he thinks them twaddle.”
He gaped at her profile. Had she just … Did that mean … Future beau? Though he tried, not one coherent thought could muddle itself together. When words did form, they jumped out before he could think them through. “Are you saying that you love me?”
His chest constricted in anticipation of the answer, though what answer he wanted, he couldn’t be sure. It was too soon for something like love, but the chance at it? That was something to hope for.
“I’m not sure.”
Now was not the time to be coy with him. He grasped her shoulders and turned her toward him. “But you are saying you find me extraordinary. Or am I misunderstanding you?”
Her head dipped demurely.
Gently he lifted her chin and held her gaze, imploring an honest answer.
“I do indeed find you extraordinary.”
He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“But—”
At her additional word, he sucked in another breath and waited for the rejection to come.
“Despite what my books say, I’m not one to rush into love. We’ve barely known each other two weeks, and we only agreed to friendship yesterday. I think it would be irresponsible for me to sayI love youso quickly.”
That was an answer he could respect. Like her, he didn’t wish to rush into love, but the fact they both agreed the potential existed made him bold. Either they had a future or they didn’t, but wavering between the two would drive him mad.
“As you said, love is proved by walking through life together. That requires time. Time we’ve barely begun to share.” He swallowed hard against the nervousness threatening to cut off his next words. “May I have the honor of spending more time with you and seeing if our walk together is a lingering one? Once this case is over, of course.”
