“Not particularly,” I tell her. “I do like apples though.”
“I love applesauce.” She says this like she’s professing her feelings for more than pureed fruit.
“Good for you,” I say while taking a right turn that leads us toward Elk Lake. As we near the road that wraps around the body of water, I ask, “Would you prefer I turn around and we drive through the woods?”
“No, thank you. Even though I don’t like sand, I like looking at the lake. It’s peaceful.”
I’m so caught up in the oddness of this conversation I nearly run through a stop sign. As such, I wind up pressing the brake a little too hard and we stop with a jolt.
“You really aren’t a very good driver,” Finley announces.
“I haven’t hit anyone yet,” I tell her, like not killing pedestrians is a real accomplishment.
Instead of taking my comment lightheartedly, Finley confesses, “I’m afraid I would. That’s one of the big reasons I haven’t learned how to drive.”
“Most people who drive cars never hit pedestrians,” I say with authority. “I think you’ll be fine.”
She gives me a one-word answer. “Maybe.”
“I won’t be able to take drivers’ ed with you,” I tell her. “Constance is moving my schedule to nights starting next week. Which means I’ll be sleeping during the day.” I pull into a parking space with a great view of the lake.
That statement seems to shake my passenger. She reaches out and touches my arm. Taking a moment to pet the leather of my jacket, she asks, “Why would she do that?”
“She’s doing it because she’s mad I won’t date her. I’ll be working from eight at night until six in the morning. Which means I’ll go to bed at eleven in the morning and sleep until six o’clock at night.” Just the thought of returning to a nocturnal existence makes my skin crawl.
“Can she do that?” Finley seems as disturbed as I am.
“She can pretty much do anything she wants.”
“Yes, but we still have to finish the calendar for your parents.”
“I can do tomorrow’s session,” I tell her, “but would there be any way you could stay late for the other sessions? Either that, or maybe we can schedule them for my days off?”
“I guess.” She sounds disappointed.
I’m disappointed, too. I like spending time with Finley and with us being on opposite schedules that’s going to be hard to do.
We sit silently and watch the sunset. As the orange ball sinks into the lake, I ask, “Would you like to have supper with me tonight?”
My passenger is quiet for long enough, I’m convinced she’s going to say no. But then she opens her mouth and surprises me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FINLEY
I can’t believe Thomas is thinking about leaving Elk Lake. This town has been a dream come true for me. A dream that became sweeter when I met him. And now he wants to leave? I’m not pleased.
Also, I’m surprised Thomas wants to eat with me again. It’s not that I don’t want to go. I do. I just don’t want to get more attached to him only to have him break my heart when he goes back to New York.
“Let’s go to my studio and order in,” I tell him. “They just cut the opening between my place and the shop next door. I have a lot of work to do to get it ready for use.”
“Are you trying to get me to help you?” he asks suspiciously.
I could get addicted to that smile of his. Full lips and straight white teeth are near the top of my must-have list when it comes to a man. Other things include nice feet, properly clipped nails, and hair. I like a man with hair.
“You don’t have to help,” I tell him. “You could just sit there and eat while I do all the work.” I raise one eyebrow and narrowmy gaze to send a subliminal message:You’d better not sit and watch me work without offering to help.
I know he receives the message loud and clear when he laughs, “Nice guilt trip. You’re going to be a great mother someday.”
