He stood, cleared the lump in his throat.
He’d felt comfortable with Ariel in her exercise outfit. But now, as she stood there in a cute white dress and wearing pretty pink lipstick, he couldn’t find his voice.
Yes, his suspicions had been right. This hadn’t been a good idea at all.
“Caleb, I’m glad you’re here.” She came inside, and Isaiah stepped on the attached doorstop, propping open the door. Always the gentleman, forever protecting her reputation. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep that crowd off the patio. They didn’t recognize me with my sunglasses on and my hair up, and they insisted on coming outside and getting their lunch table.”
Caleb pulled out the wooden desk chair and sat in it, leaving the upholstered armchair for her. “It’s not your fault. It was my stupid idea to climb the tree.”
Ariel took the chair he’d given her, then eyed the bed, made up with a burgundy bedspread that matched the chairs. “You found some sheets. I’m glad.” She turned to Isaiah. “Do you have everything you need?”
He patted her on top of the head. “Yes, missy. But remember, I’m here to take care of you, not the other way around. You’re not my maid.”
“I would be if you’d let me.”
“I know.” Isaiah took in her pretty dress as if he hadn’t noticed before. “Last I saw you, you had on sweaty runningclothes. You didn’t dress up for rehearsal, did you? Because I don’t feel like putting on my tuxedo.”
She glanced at his camel linen trousers and white cotton shirt. “You look great, as always.”
Isaiah gave Caleb a shifty eye. “You’re not letting this woman pick you up for a date, are you? Because it’s supposed to be the other way around. Not that I’m going to let you do that. Besides, you’re not dressed fit for her.”
“Do I look that shabby?”
His dark chinos and white Island House polo looked fine to her. “You know Aunt Dahlia would never allow me a date, anyway.”
But if things were different…
“Like it or not, Ariel, I’m now a watchdog.” Isaiah sat in one of the chairs and propped his elbow on the armrest, elevating his hand. “Apparently, it’s okay for Miss Dahlia to run all over the island with her old boyfriend, but I’m supposed to keep you away from males aged sixteen to seventy.”
Would Isaiah keep as close an eye on her as Doreen did? Or closer?
“If you don’t have a date, and you haven’t started dressing up for rehearsal, then why are you wearing that?” Isaiah took a swig of his tea.
When had he ever cared what she wore? “I don’t have a date. I came to see if you needed anything. Like supper.”
“Come to think of it,” Caleb said, “this could be a good time for us to have that visit with Granddad.”
Isaiah cut a surly glance at Caleb. “You know I’m supposed to keep men away from her.”
Ariel touched the older man’s arm. “It’s just a visit with his grandpa. I promise it’s not a date.”
“I guess it’s okay, since it’s you. And since it’s not a date.” Isaiah still glared a warning Caleb’s way. “Bring me a Wagyu burger.”
“Fine, but first I have a problem,” Caleb said. “As you know, I used an…alternative entrance to get into my family’s third-floor apartment. Until I find its keys, I can’t lock it or get back in. So I have to find a way to secure it until the locksmith comes this afternoon, just to be safe.”
Isaiah stood. “I’ll roost up there.”
After traveling all day? “That would be the perfect solution, but are you sure you don’t want to crash in your room instead?”
He pointed to his tea glass and books. “This is my plan for the afternoon. I can do it anywhere.”
They climbed the stairs to the third floor, and Caleb swung open the unlocked door, stood back, and let Ariel and Isaiah go in first. “When I came barreling in here an hour ago, nothing on my mind except finding sheets and saving face, I didn’t stop to look around. Now I see nothing has changed.”
Ariel took in the beauty of the open, airy entry and living room beyond, with its antique tables and botanical paintings, warm hues and pastels, natural fibers and hand-painted tiles.
“How long has it been?” Isaiah carried his books into the next room and set them on a slender-legged console table with a patina of aged, painted wood.
“Twelve years.”
