him. Damn. This pretending to be someone he wasn’t was more complicated than Alex had envisioned it being.
“Here comes our curry chicken,” she said, saving him from having to say anything more.
After the waiter finished serving them and had walked off once more, P.J. said, “You have any family around here, Alex?” She spooned some rice onto her plate, then helped herself to the curry.
He nodded. “My brothers all live in the area, and my parents are in Seattle. What about you?”
“My family all live around here, too.” She took a bite. “Umm, that’s good.”
Alex liked the way she enjoyed her food. He got tired of women who never seemed to eat anything but salad. “Their food is good.”
“Yeah, I get takeout here about once a week.” She grinned. “If you’re interested, I know all the great takeout places in Jansen. I know a fantastic pizza place as well as the best Italian restaurant in town.”
“Actually, I like to cook.”
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Cooking is probably the thing that gives me the greatest pleasure.” Next to his work at the Hunt Foundation, but of course, he couldn’t say that.
“I can’t even boil water.” She laughed. “Once I burned the coffee.”
Alex laughed, too. “Cooking’s easy. If you can read, you can cook. You just follow the directions.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You like it. Believe me, I’ve tried. Not only am I a terrible cook, but I hated it. I mean, why bother when you can get food like this?” She waved her fork at the serving dishes. “Are you going to eat the rest of that pad thai?”
“No, I’m full.”
“Oh, good.” Reaching for the platter, she scraped the remainder of the noodle dish onto her plate.
Yes, a very healthy appetite, Alex thought. He wondered if that appetite extended to other areas of her life. Somehow he imagined it might. P.J. seemed like the kind of woman who would thoroughly enjoy sex.
As if she knew what he’d been thinking, a faint flush crept into her cheeks as their eyes met and held.
She was the first one to look away, and Alex knew he’d flustered her.
“That was great,” she said, putting down her fork and lifting her napkin to her mouth.
“Yes,” he said. “Thank you for joining me.” He motioned to their waiter.
“Are you finished?” the waiter said.
“I think so, unless the lady wants dessert?”
P.J. shook her head. “No, just the check.”
The waiter said he’d be right back.
“I don’t want an argument over the check,” she said. “I’m paying for my share.”
“No, you’re not,” Alex said. “I invited you to join me, it’s my treat.”
“Look, Alex—”
“I insist,” Alex said.
P.J. argued a few more seconds, then finally relented.
The waiter returned, laying a leather folder by Alex. Alex reached back and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. Opening it, he automatically reached for his platinum American Express card, but at the last second, he remembered that he wasn’t Alex Hunt tonight, he was Alex Noble, and he took out his new Visa card instead. Close call, he thought, as he slipped the card into the leather folder.
When he looked up, P.J. was watching him. Damn. Had she seen that card? If she’d been looking at his wallet when he’d opened it, she probably had. Worse, she would have seen that he had several platinum cards. What would she make of that information?
I’m going to have to remember to be more careful. She’s way too observant.
The waiter came by again and picked up the folder. P.J. excused herself to go to the ladies’ room and was gone when the waiter returned. Alex took care of filling in the tip and signing the charge slip, then went to the front of the restaurant to wait for her.
When they walked outside, the sun had set and there was now a decided chill in the air.
“Summer fades fast in this neck of the woods,” Alex said.
“Yes,” P.J. agreed. She stopped next to a little blue Miata. “Thank you for dinner. I enjoyed it.”
Alex smiled. “My pleasure.”
She opened the driver’s-side door. “See you Monday.”
He waited till she’d gotten into the car before walking to his truck. Would Cornelia like P.J.? Alex wondered. He thought she would. In fact, there were things about P.J. that reminded him of Cornelia. Not that they looked alike. Although Cornelia was a tall woman and so was P.J., that was the extent of their physical similarities. Cornelia was more delicately built and in her youth had had pale blond hair whereas P.J.’s coloring was more vivid. But both were strong-willed, intelligent and independent.
Yes. Cornelia would approve of P.J.
Alex smiled as he climbed into his truck. He had a feeling Georgie would, too, even though she still remained adamant that this whole bride hunt was ridiculous and had followed through on her promise to tell her mother exactly what she thought.
Not that Georgie’s objections had made any difference to either Cornelia or Alex.
He wasn’t a hundred-percent certain, but he was beginning to believe he might have found the woman he wanted.
P.J. pulled into the circular drive in front of the stately home where she’d grown up and cut the ignition. Reaching for the small gift bag that contained a couple of oldies CDs and the gift card for a dozen guitar lessons with the best instructor she could find in the Seattle area, she got out of the Miata and walked up to the massive oak front door and rang the bell.
“Miss Paige, you know you can just come on in,” Carmelita, the family’s long-time housekeeper said as she opened the door. “You’re family.” Leaning over, she kissed P.J.’s cheek.
P.J. inhaled the scent of talcum and gave Carmelita a hug.
“Everyone’s back in the solarium,” Carmelita said. “You go on and join them. I’ll have Marianne bring you some lemonade.”
P.J. headed for the dome-topped, semicircular room that overlooked Puget Sound. As she approached the solarium, she heard the cheerful noises of her rapidly expanding family.
“Paige!” her mother exclaimed as P.J. walked into the room. Getting up, Helena Kincaid held out her arms. Hugging her mother was vastly different from hugging cushiony Carmelita. Helena, like most women in her social class, was reed-thin and smelled of the most
