Discovering You. Brenda Novak

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      Rod studied her until she felt too uncomfortable to allow the silence to continue.

      “So...what can I do for you?” she asked.

      His mouth quirked to one side. “I just found a plate of cookies on the railing of my deck.”

      It was almost impossible not to return his smile, but India fought the impulse. She had to remain on guard at all times. He did something to her she couldn’t explain—probably because it didn’t make any sense. She’d barely met him. “I hope the ants didn’t find them first.”

      “Not that I could see. Although I wouldn’t have let that stop me. They were delicious.”

      “Were?” she repeated. “You ate them already?”

      “Was I supposed to wait? If my brothers came home and found me with homemade cookies, they’d be gone in seconds. And my father and his wife are always there.”

      “So to prevent sharing, you ate all twelve?” she said with a laugh.

      “They were for me, weren’t they?” he responded with a wink.

      He made her feel better. She preferred not to contemplate why. “Yes, they were for you, and I’m glad you liked them.” She sobered. “I hope you also got my note.”

      “I did.”

      Then why was he here? Didn’t her note say it all?

      She crossed to the sink in the corner. “I’m really sorry about last night,” she said as she washed her hands. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I’ve never done anything like that.”

      “I’m not here for another apology. I just wanted to tell you not to worry about it. I can understand why you might want to feel good for a change.”

      “Thank you. I appreciate your forgiveness. But I’m really not as bad as hitting on you made me seem.”

      “I know.”

      After drying her hands, she used the same towel to mop the beads of sweat running down the sides of her face. “Then...can we pretend it never happened?”

      His gaze slid over her like it had last night, and she suddenly realized why she’d propositioned him. Just the way he looked at her—as if he was undressing her with his eyes, even though they weren’t talking about anything remotely suggestive—made her too aware of him. He exuded sex appeal, and as a young, lonely widow, she was vulnerable. It’d been eleven months since she’d felt a man’s touch; she missed Charlie’s gentle caress.

      “’Course. I’m not holding anything against you,” he said, giving her the impression that he wouldn’t have thought twice about what she’d done, with or without the cookie offering.

      Maybe he got hit on all the time. India knew she couldn’t be the only woman to find him attractive.

      She clasped her hands in front of her, partially to hide the fact that she didn’t know what to do with them now that she’d cleaned them, and partially to block his view of the stains on her shirt. When she was creating, she didn’t care about staying clean. She didn’t care about much of anything then. Several hours could pass without her noticing. Her art was the one thing that helped her cope with life since Charlie died.

      “Good. Thanks again.” She gestured toward her back door. “I’d better go inside. I’ve still got a lot to do tonight.”

      “India?” He stopped her before she could reach the sanctuary of her kitchen, and his tone suggested that whatever he was about to say wasn’t idle chitchat.

      She turned. “Yes?”

      “Let me take you to dinner.”

      She almost told him again what she’d told him last night. That she was still in love with her late husband, that she couldn’t get involved. Even when she started dating again, she couldn’t date anyone like Rod. Her in-laws would take one look at him, see Sebastian Young instead and sue her for custody of Cassia. It could easily be the final piece of “evidence” to convince them that her poor choices were to blame for the death of their son.

      But instead of “no,” she heard herself say, “When?”

      “Tomorrow night?”

      He’d lowered his voice in what felt like a meaningful way and that filled her belly with butterflies. She stared at him, willing herself to clarify that she couldn’t go, but she didn’t. She nodded.

      “Pick you up at six,” he said.

      Her heartbeat seemed to travel out to her fingertips. What was she doing? Clearly, she’d lost her mind—and yet she overrode her better judgment for a second time. “Okay.”

      When his smile widened, she felt a bit wobbly in the knees. “See you soon.”

       6

      Rod was mowing the lawn. India could see him from the window above her sink, where she was doing dishes. She had a hard time looking away, especially once his T-shirt grew damp and he took it off. He wrapped it around his head to block the sun, which wasn’t the most attractive way to wear a shirt, so she knew he wasn’t trying to show off.

      That certainly didn’t detract from his appearance, however. His bare chest and arms... Holy cow! As much as she’d loved Charlie and would never have tried to change him, she had to admit he hadn’t looked like that. He couldn’t; he didn’t spend enough time outdoors, didn’t do anything physical. He was too busy concentrating on his patients and his career. They’d even had a yard service.

      She didn’t realize she was no longer washing dishes—that she was only staring—until her phone buzzed. Then she finally looked away. She’d been trying to reach her in-laws to tell them about the DA’s decision, and now they were getting back to her.

      After drying her hands, she turned from the window and hit the talk button.

      “Hello?” She went into the living room so she wouldn’t be tempted to watch Rod anymore. Charlie was dead, but somehow she still felt guilty about the things she thought and felt whenever she encountered her neighbor. She knew the Sommerses wouldn’t appreciate the fact that another man had that kind of effect on her. She’d have to remain single for a long time in order to convince them that she’d loved Charlie and wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him.

      “India? It’s Claudia,” her mother-in-law said. “How are you, sweetheart?”

      The endearments Charlie’s mother bandied about could be so misleading. India wished they were sincere. Since she’d never really had a father, and she’d lost her mother when she was still young, she often felt a childlike craving for the love of a good parent.

      But experience had taught her that Claudia’s sweetheart, honey and darling were mere words. Claudia tried to like her because she’d meant so much to Charlie, but on some level, she couldn’t help blaming India, as India blamed herself, for what Sebastian had done. The defense attorney had made her look so bad. India had felt her in-laws’ loyalties weakening as witness after witness claimed she’d СКАЧАТЬ