“I find that hard to believe. You’re a lovely woman.”
Marci remained silent, which prompted Ashlyn to push a little more. Her entire reason for opening the store was to help women find love. She could sense the turmoil inside Marci. “There isn’t anyone who would love to see you in sexy lingerie?”
Still silent, head lowered, Marci fingered a pair of fuchsia panties. Women usually opened up to Ashlyn after a few minutes of conversation. For some reason Ashlyn didn’t understand, Marci was holding back and not saying how she felt.
She took a step closer, mentally pouring her energy over Marci in hopes she’d begin to talk. “You had a dinner date Saturday night. It didn’t go well?”
Marci shrugged. “It was okay.”
Ashlyn sensed it had been much more than okay. She decided to try a different tactic. “I’m sorry you were disappointed. Sometimes the guys we think will be wonderful turn out to be idiots.”
Marci jerked up her head. “No, that’s not it. Keefe isn’t an idiot. He’s…” She stopped and bit her lower lip.
Now that she’d opened up a little, Ashlyn wouldn’t give up. Marci cared far more for Keefe than she wanted to admit. “Keefe? That’s a good Irish name.”
“His father is Irish.”
Ashlyn leaned closer to her. “If he’s as lusty as Llyr, you’re a lucky woman.”
“You told me you and Llyr are friends.”
“We are. Very special friends.”
“Oh.”
Silence again. Ashlyn didn’t think she’d ever had as much trouble getting a woman to open up. Usually, simply standing next to a woman would make her pour out her heart. Ashlyn couldn’t help Marci if she didn’t know the problem. “If Keefe isn’t an idiot, then what’s wrong?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Nothing is too complicated where love is concerned.”
Marci couldn’t have looked more surprised if Ashlyn had thrown water on her. “I don’t love Keefe. I barely know him.”
Ashlyn picked up the pair of panties Marci had been touching. “Wearing something like this will let him get to know you in a hurry.”
She felt better when Marci chuckled. “That’s true.”
“Or maybe you’d like something the shade of an Irish hillside.”
“Or maybe both.”
Ashlyn smiled. It pleased her to feel the sadness fade away from Marci’s body. “There you go. A woman should always pamper herself.”
“I agree with that.”
“Then let me show you the green display. Okay?”
Marci nodded. “Please.”
* * * * *
The sun shone in a brilliant blue sky when Keefe drove his car into the parking garage at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. He’d always believed that it rained constantly in the Pacific Northwest, despite Linsey and Davin telling him that wasn’t true. He’d quickly learned after moving here that his friends had been right and he’d been wrong.
He took the elevator to the fourth floor. Marci had said she’d meet him at the main terminal, right inside the entrance. Hefting his carryon higher on his shoulder, he exited the elevator and walked across the skybridge into the terminal.
He found her exactly where she said she’d be. He stood still for a moment and admired her. It was the first time he’d seen her dressed casually in slim jeans and a light brown v-necked sweater. She held several sheets of paper in her hands, apparently engrossed in whatever was on them…so engrossed she didn’t see the men giving her a second glance as they walked past her.
She lifted her head and looked directly at him, as if she felt him watching her. It took her a few seconds longer than Keefe thought it should have for her to wave. Grabbing the handle of her small rolling suitcase, she met him halfway.
“Good morning,” she said.
Marci smiled, but Keefe thought he detected a hint of trepidation in her expression. Perhaps she was nervous about the plane ride. Keefe knew a lot of people didn’t like to fly. “Good morning.”
“I printed out our boarding passes so we can go straight to the gate, unless you need to check your bag.”
“No, I’m taking it on the plane. I learned a long time ago to pack light.”
“I try to. Mr. Wilson told me not to dress up for him and suggested jeans and sweaters.” She glanced down at herself and grinned. “I took his advice.”
Keefe hadn’t spoken to Mr. Wilson, but had opted for jeans and a sweater too. He believed in comfort when he flew.
He fell into step behind Marci to the security checkpoint. After they were standing in line, Marci handed him his ticket and boarding pass. Keefe glanced at both, noting it would be a six-hour flight with one stop in Vancouver.
“Long flight. I didn’t realize how far Prince George is from Seattle.”
“We’ll be working a lot of that time.” She patted the tote bag on her shoulder. “I asked Mr. Wilson if he’d be willing to email me a copy of his book so I could print it out and make notes. He did. Lauren made two copies for us.”
“Smart idea.”
“I went through some of it last night and made several notations. I want your opinion on them.”
“I’m good at giving my opinion.”
He grinned, and she returned it. “I haven’t met a man yet who wasn’t willing to give me his opinion.”
“That’s because we believe we’re always right.”
Keefe followed Marci through the metal detector and picked up his bag from the conveyor belt. “Which way, boss?”
“Are you hungry? I didn’t have breakfast.”
“Me either.”
She glanced at her watch. “We have ninety minutes until our flight, so that’s plenty of time to eat.”
“Lead the way.”
Keefe followed Marci to a full-service restaurant a few yards from the security checkpoint. He waited until she sat, then slid into the booth opposite her. He nodded when the waitress offered coffee. Several cups and he might wake up. He’d tossed and turned most of the night…partly in anticipation of this trip, and partly in dread.
Sometimes he’d get a gentle whiff of Marci’s flowery perfume, and his gut would tighten with the need to take her in his arms. Spending the weekend with Marci and knowing he couldn’t touch her wouldn’t be easy.
“I am ravenous this morning,” Marci said, opening her menu. “Flying always makes me hungry.”
No matter how much he wanted her, he’d promised her he wouldn’t cross the line between professional and personal. He meant to keep that promise.
He opened his menu and located the breakfast items. “Yeah, me too.”
“I think I’ll have ham and eggs.” Marci closed her menu and laid it on the end of the table. “Of course, the eggs won’t be nearly as good as the ones you made…“ She stopped. Her gaze flew to his, her eyes wide. “I didn’t mean… That is…”
She stopped again, obviously at a loss as to what to say. Keefe tried to ease her discomfort by smiling. “Hey, it’s okay. We had a wild weekend together. We both enjoyed it. Now it’s time to get back to work.” He gestured toward the tote on the seat next to her. “Why don’t we look at Mr. Wilson’s book while we wait for breakfast?”
A look of relief crossed her face. “Okay.”
* * * * *
Marci liked to fly, but more often than not fell asleep during the flight. Something about the constant hum of the engines lulled her to sleep. Not this time. She and Keefe talked practically nonstop for the entire trip.
They’d spent so much time discussing plot points of Tyler Wilson’s book at breakfast that they had to hurry to catch their plane. Once onboard and settled, she and Keefe took out their copies again and got back to work.
A passage in the book often led to a memory of something in one of their lives. The heroine in the book had a ditzy sister who reminded Keefe of his younger sister. Whenever the heroine’s sister did something dumb, Keefe would tell Marci another story about his sister. She’d study him while he talked, noting the way his eyes would light up when he spoke about his family. He obviously loved them very much.
How lucky he was to be close to his siblings. She wished things could’ve been different for her and Mary.
Her sister had made her decision ten years ago when their parents died. She could’ve done the decent thing, or the selfish thing. At a time when they should’ve leaned on each other, comforted each other in their loss, Mary had chosen selfish.
The landing announcement came over the speaker. Marci quickly pushed all thoughts of her sister from her mind. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t solve anything.
Keefe began to gather up his paperwork. “What’s the plan?”
“Mr. Wilson lives about an hour’s drive outside Prince George. We’ll pick up our rental car at the airport and drive to his house. He gave me detailed instructions in an email. The lodge where we’ll stay is about fifteen miles from him.”
“We’re in Canada. It isn’t miles, it’s kilometers.”
“I can’t compute miles to kilometers in my head.”
“Fifteen miles is about twenty-four kilometers.”
Marci frowned. “How did you do that so fast?”
He grinned. “Because men are always right.”
She rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh. “The next thing you’ll want is for me to call you Mr. Knowledge.”
“Now there’s an idea.”
“Forget it.”
“You’re no fun.”
It was getting harder for her to hold back her laughter, especially when she saw the humor in his eyes.
He was so much fun.
He stepped into the aisle when the plane stopped and reached up to take their bags from the overhead bin. She was blessed with a glimpse of his hair-dusted belly before he lowered his arms again. She glanced toward the front of the plane. The young stewardess stared at Keefe with lust in her eyes.
An emotion surged inside Marci, one she hadn’t felt in a long time—jealousy. She wanted to scratch out that stewardess’s eyes for daring to look at Keefe.
“You okay?” Keefe asked.
“Yes. Of course.” Marci quickly picked up her tote and stepped into the aisle in front of Keefe.
They were forced to stop next to the galley when someone retrieved something from a closet close to the door. The stewardess inched closer to Keefe and turned her brightest smile on him.
“Did you enjoy your flight?”
“It was great. Thanks.”
“Will you be in Prince George long?”
Marci turned her body so she could see Keefe’s face. He wore a polite smile, not one of interest.
“Until Sunday. We’re here on business.”
The stewardess gave Marci a haughty glance, the same kind she might give a bug she was about to squash, then turned her attention back to Keefe. Her smile clearly said she’d take him right there in the galley if he said yes. “If you’d like to know more about the area, I’d be glad to help.” She pressed a small piece of paper in his hand.
Marci curled her fingers into her palms to keep from snatching the paper away from Keefe. He seemed to be embarrassed by the woman’s forwardness, but he didn’t refuse the paper.
“Thanks, but like I said, we’re here on business.”
“If you change your mind, I’ll be happy to give you a tour.”
Yeah, probably of your bedroom.
He gave her another polite smile, then fell in step behind Marci when she moved forward. She shouldn’t be surprised at the stewardess. Some women at Sea-Tac had literally stopped in their tracks and stared at Keefe as he walked by. Marci couldn’t blame them. If there was such a thing as a hotness scale, Keefe would be rated way at the top.
At the first trashcan they came to, Keefe threw away the paper with the stewardess’s phone number.
“Are you sure you want to throw that away?” Marci asked.
“I’m sure.”
“She’s pretty.” Saying that made Marci’s stomach turn. “She seemed very interested in you.”
“This is a business trip. I’m not here to pick up women. Or have them pick up me.”
She hiked her tote up on her shoulder and waited for him to say more. He didn’t. Apparently it was time to change the subject. “Let’s find the rental car place.”