comment sparked curiosity, but he decided not to pursue it. For now, he was simply relieved that she was not going to fight him over his plans for the evening. “What about the hospital documents?” he asked.
“If I can access my email at your house, I’ll print them out there. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Give me just a minute to order the food, and we’ll go.”
She told him her preferences, and after he placed an order, he moved to lift her again. She stopped him with a look. “The sun is getting low. I can tolerate the sidewalk. I appreciate the thought, but I’m walking to the car.”
He put his hands high in the door frame, stretching his shoulders. “Did your parents ever call you stubborn?”
Her face went blank, wiped clean of every emotion. “No...they didn’t,” she said, her voice cool. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go. I’m starving.”
He waited for her to lock the door and then followed her out to the car. Though it was hours yet until sunset, the sun’s rays had tempered and a light breeze alleviated some of the heat. Nikki didn’t say much. He wondered if he had somehow offended her.
The food was ready when he ran inside the restaurant. He paid for it quickly and jogged back to the car, oddly relieved to see Nikki and the car right where he had left them. He put the food in the trunk, except for one small sack. He slid into the driver’s seat and handed Nikki his peace offering.
“What’s this?” she asked, her mood suspicious.
“Hand-breaded onion rings. You said you were hungry.”
Four
Nikki didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Here she was, at the end of an emotionally and physically draining day, on her way to have an intimate dinner at a man’s house. And because she said she was starving, he’d bought her a snack in the meantime. As if humoring a fractious child.
When she opened the bag, the aroma of freshly cooked onions filled the car. She bit into one. “Oh, my...”
Pierce smirked. “I thought you’d like them.”
She ate three without blinking and then, shamefaced, handed them over. “You’d better have some. I can’t be held responsible if they all disappear. What are you? Some kind of mind reader? Onion rings are my weakness.”
“So you do have some,” he muttered, slamming on the brakes to keep from hitting a car that ran a stop sign.
“Some what?” She reached across the console and snagged a fourth piece of culinary heaven.
“Weaknesses.”
She glared at him. “Of course I have weaknesses. What a dumb thing to say.”
“Tell me,” he demanded. “I want to hear one. Do you occasionally forget to match your socks when you fold the laundry? Do you go eight months between dental cleanings instead of six? Is your checking account two pennies off?”
“Very funny.” She reached for the onion rings again and he batted her hand away.
“The rest are mine,” he said, shooting her a grin. “I worked hard today.”
“So I’ve heard. Why do men always have to be rewarded?”
“Trust me, Nikki. Onion rings are far down on the list.”
“If that was sexual innuendo, I’ll ask you to refrain.”
“Would I do that?”
“I have no idea. You’re virtually a stranger to me.”
“We’ve sweated together. That bonds people.”
“Says who?”
“Everybody. Ask around.”
She smiled at his bizarre logic, but didn’t respond. They had left the city proper and were now traversing a county highway. Moments later, Pierce turned into a concrete driveway flanked on either side by massive oaks whose canopies met in the middle.
The property was lovely. Though they had traveled no more than five miles outside of town, the feeling of isolation and peace was remarkable. As the house came into view, she murmured a quiet exclamation. Pierce’s home was constructed of mountain stone with a cedar-shake roof. Behind and to the side of the house she could see a pond. Horses grazed in a paddock to the right. Large windows gleamed opaque in the brilliant glare of the sun.
A well-kept, rolling lawn beckoned visitors to stroll into the nearby woods. Everywhere, shrubs and flowers bloomed. Slowly she opened her door and got out, ignoring Pierce’s command for her to wait. He had followed a semicircular driveway and parked right at the front door.
Hobbling a few steps was no problem at all when the reward was climbing the stairs and looking out across a summer scene so idyllic it might have been painted by a Renaissance master. “It’s lovely, Pierce,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I expected, but this is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said simply. He had retrieved their dinner from the car and followed her up the stairs. After unlocking the door, he ushered her inside. Here she saw evidence of money in every tasteful touch. Oversized leather furniture. A massive stone fireplace. Oriental rugs that reflected masculine tones in the color palette. Artwork on the walls that probably cost more than her whole condo.
The floor plan was mostly open, with the kitchen leading off to the right behind a half wall. Pierce disappeared for a moment and then reappeared, carrying a glass of wine. “I put our food in the warming oven. If you can stand to wait, I’ll jump in the shower and join you momentarily. There are rocking chairs on the front porch and out back as well.” He handed her the glass. “Enjoy yourself. Relax. I won’t be long.”
She took him at his word and wandered out back, sipping the Bordeaux he had given her. Though she wasn’t always a fan of red wine, this was lovely, smooth and fruity but not too sweet. Behind the house, the woods were kept at bay by another expanse of lawn, but here a fenced area was home to a family of basset hounds.
The dogs didn’t bark at her presence, but they ambled toward her and stared dolefully, as if expecting to be entertained. Smiling, she tiptoed down the steps and onto the lush grass. Her foot still hurt, but she ignored it, concentrating instead on the beautiful animals. “Hey, there, sweet things. Are you Pierce’s babies?” She bent and let them sniff her hand. “What pretty doggies you are.” She crooned to them, talking nonsense. Her life, as it was, didn’t have time for pets, but she loved them anyway.
Laughing at their antics, she squatted, wishing she could let them out, but unsure of the protocol. Suddenly, Pierce appeared at her side.
“You scared me,” she said, rising and putting a hand to her chest. “That was fast.”
“The guys just picked up your keys. They’ll call me when it’s done.” He, too, was barefoot, his masculine feet oddly appealing. He had changed into dark jeans and a crisp cotton shirt in a madras plaid. “Say goodbye to the three stooges and come inside so I can patch up your foot.”
“The
