at least come pass the time. Al seemed to be mysteriously available as well, right when a strong arm would come in handy. Lou Metcalf often stopped by before heading out of town after her day teaching at the middle school. Lou was a close friend of Ray Anne’s and had twice invited Ginger for a cup of coffee at the diner. And it was usually right about the time Ray Anne was quitting for the day and would drive that little BMW of hers to the flower shop to talk about dinner. Would they stay in, just the two of them? Go out? Get something from Carrie? Cook? Have Al to dinner? Should it be every man for himself tonight?
But as she pulled in the big wooden Mother’s Day tulip, she saw a man walking down the street who looked vaguely familiar. Her brow wrinkled as she studied him. Where had she seen him? He was tall and handsome, she could see that much from a block away. Black hair, broad shoulders, jeans and boots, the common wardrobe around town, but a crisply pressed cotton shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose strong forearms and big hands. As he got closer she could see the jeans were in very well-preserved condition—this guy had not just stepped off a fishing boat. His hair, brows and eyes were black and he sported a slight, whiskery beard, a day or two’s worth. The moment she found herself thinking he was heart-stoppingly sexy in a very exotic way she also realized who he was. Oh, my God, it’s Peyton’s brother! By then he was upon her and gave her a slightly shy but brilliant smile. Complete with dimples.
He nodded his head, almost a bow. “Miss Dysart...Ginger...I came to apologize.”
She actually took a step back. “Um. Okay,” she said a little nervously. “You came all the way from Portland?”
“I came to see my sister,” he said. “And to apologize to you. To explain. I can explain.”
“Water over the dam,” she said. “You don’t have to explain...”
“I was drunk,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her. “Stinko. I don’t get drunk and I don’t like drunks. I got married in that same orchard a while ago and the marriage didn’t take. I’ve been divorced over a year and it was bitter. I’m either going to stop going to those weddings or stop drinking. But I guess all the Lacoumettes are married now. If they have better luck than I did, we should be all right.”
“I’m sure Peyton understood,” she said.
He gave a bark of laughter. “She’s my sister. She’s going to make me pay for a long time. I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I? Because I remember reaching for you. I think I was going to drag you onto the dance floor. I’m a clod.”
“You groped me,” she said. “You said your intentions were to drag me to the hayloft but you missed my arm and got my...” She stopped. But he understood.
“Oh, Jesus,” he said, hanging his head slightly. “What an ass.”
“No damage done,” she said. “Apology accepted.”
“Listen, can I take you to dinner? To make amends?” he asked.
“Not necessary, Matt. It is Matt, right?”
“Matt Lacoumette,” he said, sticking out a hand. “I know it’s not necessary, but it would make me feel better if I could do something for you. Peyton says you’re one of the nicest women in town.”
Ginger tilted her head and her eyes rounded in surprise. And right then she heard the beep of Ray Anne’s horn as she pulled up in front of the shop.
Ginger still wore her green work apron. Ray Anne stood just outside her closed car door, the motor still running. “Quitting time?” she asked.
“Almost,” Ginger said. “Ray Anne, this is Peyton’s brother Matt. Matt, this is my dad’s cousin Ray Anne. I’ve been staying with her in Thunder Point.”
“It’s a pleasure,” he said. “I just invited Ginger to dinner and I’d be happy if you joined us.”
“Oh, you sweet boy,” Ray Anne said. “I just stopped by to tell Ginger I have plans for the evening, so you two go ahead. Ginger, I’ll see you a little later, honey.” She slipped back into her BMW and disappeared down the street.
Ginger looked back at Matt. “As it happens, it’s been a really long day,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about a quiet evening at home tonight.”
“I promise not to keep you out late. We can walk down to Cliffhanger’s or I can drive. I’ve only eaten there once before, but it was excellent. And probably the best way to get rid of me is to accept, let me make my amends, and then I’ll go back to the farm and leave you alone.”
“Matt...”
“I’ll behave very well.”
“Of course you will, but...”
“I’m kind of a pest until I’ve had a chance to apologize properly. Because, really—”
“That damn Ray Anne—she doesn’t have plans,” Ginger blurted. “At least she didn’t until you invited her to dinner and then she got an idea that she could be sure I went and I’m really not keen on the idea. And I don’t buy that you have to make amends over dinner or you won’t sleep at night.”
“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just amends. I really want to convince you I’m not a total asshole. I know how to treat women and I don’t do...” He shook his head. “I don’t do the things I did. Paco had his ways of training us in manners. In respect. Respect is very important in our family. I was disrespectful to you, to the bride and groom, to everyone. Paco has been reminding me daily.”
That made her smile in spite of herself. She raised one brow. “Ice water?”
He grinned. And really, it was a convincing grin. As handsome as he was, it was boyish. “Whatever is at hand,” Matt said. “Can I pick you up or would you like to walk down to Cliff’s with me?”
“I think I’d like to go home and change. I’m just closing now. Give me an hour? I’ll meet you there.”
“Can I help you move this stuff inside?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you can.”
* * *
Matt had pulled that off perfectly while giving the impression dinner had been part of his plan from the start. It hadn’t been. The truth was he didn’t remember Ginger very well. Big surprise, since he had been completely toasted. All he really remembered was a blonde in a purple dress. In fact, he remembered the dress better than the blonde in it. Then when he saw her in jeans, green florist’s apron, simple knit shirt, so pretty, freckled, looking fresh as a schoolgirl, he was stung. He saw that she wasn’t really blonde-blonde. There was a little red in that hair streaked with gold and it looked so soft. And those green eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun. She didn’t wear much makeup—her cheeks were a peachy pink and her lips shiny. She had a fine arch to her light brows. And green stains on her fingers. At dinner, he would ask what it was like working with flowers.
When he got back to Peyton and Scott’s house, Peyton was spreading butter on a French baguette for garlic bread. There was red sauce bubbling on the stove and two empty Ragu jars on the counter. Peyton was not the cook his mother was.
“I’m going out for dinner,” he told his sister. “Sorry it’s so last-minute—I hope that doesn’t
