put the glass to her own lips, mentally warning herself to chill. She knew the hazards of a workplace romance better than anyone.
She shouldn’t wish that she had more hugs and laughter and love in her life. She had her job at KCPD and her own place that was gradually transforming into a thing of beauty. George needed her to keep his life and office running efficiently, not speculate about kissing him. After a hundred years of use and neglect, this house needed her to care for it. Her days were full. Both jobs were as rewarding as they were exhausting. She’d adopted a wonderful dog from a shelter to keep her company. She didn’t have to depend on anyone. She didn’t need anything more.
She shouldn’t want...more.
A drop of ice-cold water fell from the glass and splashed her thigh near the fraying hem of her denim shorts, startling her from the depressing quagmire of her thoughts. “Oh. Wow.”
She hadn’t gone to that dark place for a while, and hated that she’d allowed the loneliness to creep into her head the moment she’d stopped for a break. Must be the flowers she’d received at work and deposited at St. Luke’s Medical Center afterward for distribution to needy patients. The gift reminded her of that horrible time, that was all. It didn’t mean she still had to wallow in the past.
Dismissing any remnants of longing or dissatisfaction, Elise wiped away the rivulet of water on her skin and swallowed the last of her tea. Swinging her feet down to the deck, she sat up on the edge of the chaise lounge and peered over the railing to find the dog before heading inside. “Spike?”
Just as she put her lips together to whistle, he let out a high-pitched bark and charged through the yard, heedless of the spinning water that dampened his hair as he ran past. He was sounding the toodle alarm, barking at something or someone at the side of the house.
Elise set down her glass and stood. “Spike! Shush!” With the last fingers of daylight leaving the high, cloudless sky a muted shade of gray, she could guess it was around nine o’clock. Some of her older neighbors were probably trying to settle in for the night. “You’ll wake someone.” She clapped her hands to divert his attention. “Spike!”
But fifteen pounds of ferocious guard dog wouldn’t be silenced.
Elise hurried down the steps and followed him to the chain-link fence to see what had alarmed him. But when she saw the tall blond man walking up the sidewalk to her backyard gate, she slowed her steps. Her guest might look handsome enough in his pressed jeans and polo shirt, but he wasn’t necessarily welcome. “James.”
“Is it safe?” James Westbrook tucked the skinny sack he carried beneath one arm and knelt down to hold his hand flat against the fence to let Spike sniff and lick his palm. “Hey, big guy. Remember me?” Spike’s barking quieted with the recognition of a familiar scent. But his long tail curled between his legs and he darted behind Elise when James reached over the top of the gate to pet him. “I guess not.”
As he pulled back to his side of the gate, Elise brushed her hair off her forehead, although that was probably the least messy thing about her ratty painting attire. She noted with annoyance that James’s well-gelled hair was barely moving in the bursts of wind swirling dust and dirt through the air. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”
“I rang the doorbell, but no one answered.”
Elise glanced up at the steady hum of her bedroom air conditioner, sticking out from the window above the back door. She hadn’t heard anything. Of course, the sprinkler made a little bit of noise. And she’d been neck deep in self-pity for the past few minutes, too.
But wouldn’t Spike have heard the doorbell? Or the slam of a car door? Maybe that’s what had alerted him in the first place. If so, James had decided pretty quickly to come to the backyard rather than wait on the porch for her to answer.
Despite the ninety-degree heat that lingered, Elise shivered with an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. Since the debacle of Nikolai, she never had liked surprises. And now she’d had two in the same day? She tipped her chin up to assess James’s unexpected arrival. “What are you doing here?” she repeated. “You got my message, didn’t you?”
“That you were working late?” He adjusted the slim glasses he wore and smiled. “I thought you meant at the office. If I’d known you were painting tonight, I’d have gotten some takeout and come over to help.” He glanced down at the gate between them, then pulled off the sack to reveal the bottle of wine he’d brought. “May I come in? It’s a cabernet sauvignon, like we drank back at Mizzou.”
Another gift.
Perhaps not as significant as twenty-three roses, but unsettling, all the same.
“James,” she began. Elise inhaled a deep breath, clearing the Go away from the tip of her tongue and summoning a polite explanation. Not that she really owed him one. But bitchiness just wasn’t in her nature. “I did work until about six. Then I had errands to run. By the time I got home, it was too late to meet you anywhere. So I changed into these old clothes, zapped some leftovers in the microwave and went to work on the shutters.”
“What do you do for fun, Lise?”
Trying not to bristle at the pet name he’d given her when they’d been dating, Elise gestured toward the pale gray siding and white trim. “Reclaiming this house is fun for me.”
“No. That’s rewarding,” he corrected with a teasing smile. “Sounds like you’re avoiding me.” He raised the wine bottle again. “Could be why I felt like I needed to bring a peace offering.”
Guilty feelings surfaced, then eased out on a breathy sigh. “It’s not you, James,” she assured him. “It’s me.” And a screwed-up love life, a little lack of confidence and nary a spark of the attraction a younger, more innocent Elise had once felt for him. “I’m flattered by your attention, but I’m just not interested in a relationship right now.”
“I get that.” He dropped his hand to the gate, but she still made no move to open it. “You and I broke up a long time ago when we graduated from college and I took that job in Korea. But we’re still friends, right? We share history. I’ve been back in the States for a couple of months now, but Kansas City doesn’t feel like home yet. I find I’m still thinking in a foreign language. I make wrong turns in the neighborhood where I grew up. Landmarks have changed or aren’t even there anymore.” He slid his hand over to rest on hers. “Can you blame me for seeking out a familiar face?”
Elise pulled away from the warmth of his fingers and bent down to pick up the dog. It was an obvious wall of defense she was putting up, but Spike didn’t seem to mind. The dog licked her jaw a couple of times before settling into her arms and Elise smiled, even as James’s faded. “What about your father?” she asked. “Isn’t he retired now? Won’t he spend time with you? There’s a Royals game on TV tonight.”
“To be honest, I was hoping for some younger, prettier company than Dad. You and I could watch the game.” He slipped the wine bottle back into the sack and held it out to her. “I promise to keep the evening perfectly platonic.”
The streetlamp in front of her house flickered on and grew bright. Even if she trusted James’s promise, the hour was late. She had to be at work early in the morning. “To be honest, I was getting ready to clean up and go to bed.”
His eyes narrowed behind his glasses before he sighed and shook his head. “Once upon a time you and I talked about getting married, Lise.”
The
