Sweet On Peggy. Stella MacLean

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СКАЧАТЬ them. “Can I walk you to your car?”

      She moved out of his space, clutching her bag nearer her body. “No, that’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

      “Don’t be late,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice.

      * * *

      THE NEXT DAY Peggy got up early, energized by a good sleep and the prospect of a day off. She’d taken her mare, Suzie, out for a long ride down into the fields next to her farm. The people who owned the property were summer residents but had given her permission to ride their wooded trails. She was sweating almost as hard as her horse when she walked Suzie back into the barn and removed the saddle.

      On the ride her thoughts had been firmly on Rory, not a good sign at all. Given her track record in finding a man, she shouldn’t get her hopes up. Coffee with him, after all, had not gone as planned. She’d been left feeling like an afterthought, suggesting to her that he’d not been as excited about seeing her as she’d been about seeing him. Would dinner be fraught with the same mismatch of expectations?

      Every man she’d ever been attracted to had turned out to be a dud on one front or another. Her biggest disasters had been her online dating attempts. It convinced her that there had to be a lot of men out there who were more in touch with Photoshop than any woman who came into their lives.

      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.

       CHAPTER TWO

      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 СКАЧАТЬ