Chapter Twenty-One
Clara hovered by the front door of her flat, peering through the little window again and again for the flare of Nick’s headlights, and checking her watch, which had slowed to a crawl. Finally, she forced herself to sit on the sofa and pick up a newspaper.
His soft knock startled her into ripping the page. She blew out a whoosh of shaky breath, counted silently to five, and then strode to the door. When she pulled it open, her breath stopped.
He is so pretty.
“Nick. Hi. Um, come in.”
His dark curls were neatly combed back, which led her thoughts to how she might mess them up. His espresso-brown eyes shone behind their lush lashes, and a seductive half-smile played across his full lips. His whisper-soft sweater hugged his chest and shoulders just enough to hint at the firm expanse of muscle beneath. Before her gaze slid further south, he pulled from behind his back a huge bouquet of floral glory.
The arrangement was as stunning as the man holding it: big coral-colored lilies interspersed with roses in shades from palest blush to deep orange. In the center, one perfect wine-red rose.
“I was hoping to find something to match the color of your hair. These come close, I think.”
“Nick, they’re glorious. Thank you.”
His soft kiss against each cheek warmed her skin. With effort, she resisted the urge to pull him in closer, press against his solid warmth.
“You’re lovely.”
“So are you.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, you look nice.”
“Thank you. So, cute place you have.”
“It’s comfortable. Don’t spend as much time here as I’d like, though.” Nervous chatter tumbled from her lips as she searched the dining room hutch for a vase. “I practically live at the shop these days.” She pulled a cut glass vase from the bottom shelf, then nearly dropped it. “I’ll just get some water.”
“Let me help you.” He followed her into the kitchen, and her eyes darted to the pile of dishes in the draining rack. Untidy, but clean at least. He unwrapped the flowers while she filled the vase with water. “Scissors?”
She handed him a hefty pair of kitchen shears.
“Nice tools.” He inclined his head toward her collection of Wüsthof knives, mounted on a magnetic rack beside the sink.
“I told you I like to cook.”
He deftly snipped the ends of each stem and slid the bouquet into the vase. It was odd having a man beside her at the kitchen counter—cozy, familiar, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Where shall I put these?”
“Um, coffee table, please.”
He placed them on the low table, then straightened up. “Shall we?”
Dazzled by his nearness, for just a tiny split-second Clara considered tugging him back toward her bedroom. But she swallowed the impulse and pasted on a smile she hoped passed for calm and collected. “Let’s go.”
He held the door of his little green Karmann Ghia while she did her best to lower herself gracefully into the seat. He switched on the ignition, and the stereo purred to life: a husky alto voice crooning Brazilian jazz.
“That’s Carmen. She teaches vocal music at the university. We’ll hear her tonight, at the bar.”
She tried to relax as the lights of Agate Street flashed past. Nick was a smooth, fast driver, and his car hugged the curves, pushing her back into her seat.
“So, how’s your project coming?” she asked.
“It’s time-consuming, pulling together all those pictures and notes. I’ll need to make a second pass through your back room before I go back to Berkeley. My deadline’s been bumped up.”
Behind the red door with Nick, what a thrilling, scary thought. She cleared her throat. “Sure, any time.”
At a stoplight, he turned to face her. “You know, I was serious about helping you. I know some people who could set you up with a much better website, attract a lot more online business.”
“And are these people in Berkeley?”
“Yeah. Damn.” He brightened. “But I could photograph the books on my next trip up.”
“When will you be back?”
“Mid-July. I’ll probably camp out on Leo’s couch, or stay with my sister in Corvallis. Of course, it’ll be hard to work with my little niece climbing all over me.” He grinned. “Besides her dad, I’m her favorite jungle gym.”
He pulled into the driveway of the same cottage where he’d held the party, where they’d shared their tantalizing first kiss.
“Aren’t we going to the wine bar?”
“It’s right over there.” He pointed over his shoulder, toward the campus. “Do you mind walking? It’s a beautiful night.”
She wiggled her toes in her towering strappy sandals. If she was going to keep dating, she’d need to rethink her footwear.
“Sure,” she said, but Nick didn’t reach for the door. Instead, he squeezed her hand.
“Before we go, Clara, can we talk about the elephant in the car?”
“Sorry, what?”
He brushed a finger against her cheek, his whispery touch setting off fireworks that danced across her skin and down below her belt.
“I guess you can tell I’m very attracted to you. But I remember how hard it was to take my first steps toward dating again.” He lowered his eyes and grinned sheepishly. “My friends kept trying to set me up with nice women, but I backed out of half a dozen dates before I finally worked up the nerve.” He turned back toward her, his smile misty. “I remember how, whenever I hesitated to do something I really wanted, Diana said, ‘I double-dog dare you.’ I can hear her saying that now.”
His thumb stroked the back of her hand. “I really want to know you, Clara. It won’t be easy with me down in Berkeley and you up here, but I’ll be back as often as I can. I hope you’ll give me a chance.”
She shivered so hard he must have seen her, must have known. Like his Diana, Jared was telling her to move forward, to open herself to new possibilities, maybe even new love.
“Anyway, I understand how hard it is, because I’ve been there. And I won’t pressure you to do anything you aren’t ready to do. But maybe it’s time to dip your toes back into the water. Because life is for the living.”
Life is for the living. The same message sent by Jared—or by her own restless body, still living, still craving a man’s touch.
She found the courage then to meet his probing gaze. His eyes, nearly black in the low light, were gentle, but something flickered in those dark pools. Something dangerous? She’d never know unless she worked up the courage to dive in.
“Thank you, Nick. You’re a special man, and I think there may be something between us. It is scary for me to admit that.” The words slipped out so easily. “I’ll look forward to your next visit.”
This was good. He’d be back in July, giving her plenty of time to consider her feelings for him. No rush.
A broad smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and then he brought her hand to his lips. “Shall we?”