Sweet On Peggy. Stella MacLean
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Название: Sweet On Peggy
Автор: Stella MacLean
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474047111
isbn:
Since she’d moved to Eden Harbor, she hadn’t dated anyone because she didn’t feel like getting to know someone only to be disappointed. Why was it that so many of her friends had found Mr. Right while she couldn’t find even one Mr. Maybe?
She finished caring for Suzie, let her into the paddock with Zeus and headed back toward the house. From across the yard she heard Ned Tompkins calling to her. She glanced over to see that he was standing next to a pile of lumber, and his deck was beginning to take shape. She looked again. Was that Rory MacPherson?
“Peggy! Come on over and meet my new carpenter,” Ned said.
She smelled like sweat and dirt and horse. She couldn’t go over there without a shower. “Hi, Ned.” She pointed to her house. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’ll drop by on my way from town,” she said, scurrying along the path from the barn.
“No, I need to talk to you. It’s important,” he yelled as he helped the carpenter with a long piece of wood. Wiping his hands on his pants, he said, “I want you to meet someone,” he insisted as he beckoned to her. “Come on.”
“Oh, all right,” she said, intending to stay downwind, if there was a wind, so that her unwashed body wouldn’t offend anyone—namely, Rory. Reluctantly, she crossed the open stretch of field between the houses. Rory stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. He was even more gorgeous in the morning light. How could that be?
Ned made the introductions, but she wasn’t listening. She was staring up into those gorgeous blue eyes and the mess-me-up-a-little dirty blond hair.
“Small world,” he offered, his hand extended in greeting.
“Yeah,” she said, but it sounded more like a sigh.
“You know each other?” Ned asked, moving closer, his eyes darting from one to the other.
“We met at the hospital,” Rory replied, looking deep into her eyes. So deep she thought she would fall in. What was it about this man that had her heart tripping in her chest?
Ned cleared his throat. “Okay, well, can you stay for a few minutes, Peggy? I need to speak to you.”
If her world was perfectly in sync with her wishes, she’d stay right here and learn to be a carpenter. She’d spend long hours working up a sweat with this man. She tried not to look at the muscles curving over his shoulders and chest under his black T-shirt.
But her world wasn’t perfect. She smelled like an armpit. She had to run errands in town, maybe pick up a new top for tonight. Something sexy...
She dragged her gaze from Rory and focused on Ned. “Sorry, Ned, but I have an appointment. Can we talk later?”
“I guess so. It’s certainly not going to go away anytime soon, so yeah...later.”
Rory leaned toward her. She backed up, hoping not to shroud him in her eau de horse.
“I’ll see you at seven,” he said, low enough that Ned couldn’t hear, for which she was very, very thankful. Nothing against Ned. It was just that she’d like to have a little privacy, and obviously so did Rory. Nice.
RORY PACED BACK and forth in front of the Wayfarer Inn. He’d dug out his best dress pants from among the stuff he’d brought from his mother’s house in Bangor, ironed his only dress shirt and borrowed a tie from the guy in the apartment next to him, all in preparation for tonight.
He was about to make another lap around the front flower beds of the inn when he saw her coming across the street. She hadn’t seen him yet. Her stride was long, her silky brown hair clung to her cheeks and the sea green dress she was wearing skimmed her body in all the right places. When she looked his way, he smiled and waved.
Tonight was going to be special. He could feel it. He sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, then realized that he sounded like an overeager teenager.
Peggy glanced at her watch. “Am I late?”
“No, I’m early,” he said as she came near.
She smiled at him, her eyes meeting his. “That’s nice.”
“What is?” he asked, unable to take his eyes from hers.
“You. Being early...for a change,” she said, chuckling.
“So I’m to be reminded of my one sin, am I?”
“Not if tonight goes okay. If all ends well, I will never mention the missed coffee date ever again.”
“Deal,” he said, placing his arm on the small of her back as he led her to the entrance of the inn. He felt so good walking beside her, letting her flowery perfume play along his senses. The waiter showed them to a table by the window with a view of the side garden near the trestle he’d built for their climbing roses. He held her chair for her as she sat down.
“May I take your drink orders?” the waiter asked.
“White wine for me,” Peggy said, raising her eyebrows at him.
“Me, too,” he offered. “I can’t remember the last time I had any alcohol,” he said as the waiter left.
“You don’t drink? You don’t have to have a glass of wine just because I do.”
“No. I drink. I simply haven’t since I got back from Haiti.”
“You lived in Haiti?”
He toyed with the lip of his water glass, his gut tightening. He wished now he hadn’t mentioned Haiti. Yet he’d done it out of a need to be completely honest with the woman who had held his attention since he’d met her. “Yes, for two years.”
“Did you like it?”
He’d spent the early weeks after he’d gotten back trying not to think about Haiti. He’d finally given up trying. Haiti changed his life. “I’m not sure. I don’t know how to describe it.”
“I’m listening if you want to try.”
He met her attentive gaze and was tempted. Yet he wasn’t quite ready to share those memories he’d held so close to his heart, memories both happy and tragic. “Haiti is a special place. I was working for an NGO whose purpose was to rebuild the homes lost in the earthquake. But now I’m back, ready to enjoy life, to make each moment count.”
“I admire you for what you’ve done,” she said, a smile lighting her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to encourage him to continue.
As much as he wanted to say more, he didn’t want to ruin their evening by getting into a heavy topic like the devastation in Haiti. Their wine arrived. He picked up his glass. “To this evening.”
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