Lynn returned to the front of the bakery and sat at the table in the corner. “Damn Walter Winters."
Ruthie came to sit across from Lynn. “My mamma thinks Walter's a jerk. When Daddy built a back porch onto our house last year, Walter gave him a citation for not having a permit."
Lynn looked anxiously toward the front door. “If my building fails this inspection, Walter will probably take steps to have it condemned.” That thought made her shudder.
As Trace and Walter came through the front door, Ruthie said, “You will know soon now."
That she would. Lynn steeled herself for bad news. “Get us some coffee, Ruthie."
Ruthie hopped to her feet. “I'll bring some cookies, too."
As Walter and Trace sat on either side of her, Lynn asked, “Is it good news or bad?"
Walter's ferret face screwed into an almost smile. “I'm not sure. Maybe I should have you put lights over the exit signs you painted over the doors."
Ruthie returned carrying a tray with four cups of coffee, cream and sugar and a plate of cookies. She put the tray in the center of the table and sat across from Lynn as if she had every right to do so.
Lynn couldn't believe her ears when Trace said, “Maybe you should.” Before she could protest, Trace continued. “And maybe you should also have the city do something about those gas meters on the south side of the bakery. They're far too near the building."
Walter took a quick swallow of coffee. “The city will have to pay to have those meters moved. That's a big expense."
Trace nodded in agreement. “It would. The city will also have to pay for paving that rough stretch of street in front of the bakery and for widening the alley behind it, but those are things that need to be done if you're going to be in compliance with city standards, don't you agree?"
Walter set his cup on the table. “If you think you can blackmail me into saying this building passes inspection, you're wrong."
Trance's voice was soft, and quiet, and deadly. “Ms. Evans has done her part to assure that this building passes inspection, Mr. Winters. Now the ball is in your court."
Walter bristled, “You got that right. This building don't pass unless I say it passes."
"And if you don't pass it,” Trace retorted, “I will assume that the reason is because those gas meters are too near the building, or is it because of the need to pave the street in front?” Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe it's because the alley in back needs widening."
There he goes, Lynn thought, mounting his white charger and riding to the rescue. She smiled. This time she was glad for his intervention.
Walter turned a pasty shade of white. “That ain't for you to decide."
Trace agreed, and then added, “It would be up to the City Council. I'll ask them at their next meeting, and I'll be sure to mention your name."
Walter took a pen from his shirt pocket. “We can forget about the lights.” With a flourish he signed the paper at the bottom of the page, tore off the top sheet and gave it to Lynn.
She folded it and put it in her apron pocket. “Good-bye Walter."
Walter scooped up a handful of cookies and slipped them into his pocket. “I'm out of here."
Lynn breathed a huge sigh of relief as she watched him go through the door and hurry to his city truck. As he drove away, she turned toward Trace. “Thank you."
Ruthie smiled, revealing her elusive dimple. “Thank you for me too. You really put Walter in his place."
Trace grinned. “It was my pleasure."
Ruthie reached for a cookie. “Sometimes you can be a nice guy."
Trace raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, I think."
Ruthie pushed her cookie into her mouth and stood. “Just look, it's five-thirty already.” She swallowed before asking, “Can I go home now Lynn?"
Lynn nodded. “Yes, but remember you should be here by eight o'clock tomorrow morning."
Ruthie agreed, “Okay. I'll remember to set my alarm.” At the door she paused to address Trace. “I'm going to tell Mamma what you did to Walter. She will like that. I guess I'll have to tell her too that you dumped Lynn. She won't like that.” With a wave of her hand she was out the door and gone.
Lynn quickly changed the subject. “I owe you money. I computed what ten percent of the materials you used here would be. Is a personal check okay?"
Trace grinned, “I dumped you? That's one I hadn't heard yet. Maybe I'm too near the end of the gossip grapevine.” His grin widened. “I did hear earlier today that you dumped Joel. Is that true?"
Lynn shook her head. “I did. I tried to tell you so last Sunday."
Trace's grin vanished. “Last Sunday I was past hearing anything you had to say. But now...” His grin reappeared as he gave her a smoldering look. “Lock the door. You and I have some talking to do."
Chapter 16
Trace had thought that Lynn might refuse to talk to him. He suspected she might even show him the door. At best he anticipated some token argument. Instead she got up, locked the door, turned her
Open
sign to read
Closed
, came back across the room, and sat again in the chair next to him without uttering a sound.
Trace drew a long breath. He was going to have to apologize again. “I'm sorry for the way I behaved Sunday when you tried to explain about Joel."
Words he had thought would bring a positive response elicited a frown. “I wasn't trying to explain about Joel. I was trying to tell you what happened. I don't owe you an explanation about Joel or anything else for that matter."
She didn't intend to make this easy for him. Trace moved restlessly in his chair.
"I'm not asking for explanations. But I do need some answers."
Lynn's brow lifted. “What kind of answers?"
Trace replied, “Honest answers."
Lynn turned her head to one side and narrowed her eyes in his direction. “Honest answers about what?"
Trace closed his eyes and opened them again slowly. “About a lot of things, beginning with where..."
Lynn interrupted to ask, “Why?"
"Will you stop answering my questions by asking other questions?” Trace slid his chair back and crossed his legs, a feat he couldn't accomplish with them under the table. “It's damn frustrating to ask questions and get questions for answers."
Lynn had the impudence to smile. “I'd ask why but I don't think that would be a good idea."
Trace had thought this through carefully. He knew that if he expected Lynn to be honest with him he would have to be honest with her first. Being honest meant letting down carefully erected barriers to reveal intimate feelings and emotions. Did he dare take that chance?
"I ... I...” Once he spoke, there would be no going back. “I can tell you why..."
What if she rejected him? Resolve moved in to chase away his ambivalence. What he stood to gain was worth the risk. “I need to know where I stand with you."
Lynn leaned forward in anticipation, and asked yet another question, “Why?"
Trace vaulted to his feet, and strode halfway across the room before turning to face her. “Because, damn it, I think I'm in love with you.” Holy Toledo, had he just said that?
Lynn's mouth fell open. She closed it and swallowed before gasping, “You think?” After a caught breath she asked, “Don't you know?"
Trace's hands seemed like useless appendages. “I don't...” He pushed them into his pockets. “Nothing like this ever happened to me before."
Retracing his footsteps, he turned his chair around, straddled it and folded his arms across the back. “With Eva it was so different.” Lynn's questioning glance made him add, “Eva was my wife."
Lynn nodded, “I see, go on."
"My love for her was a gradual thing. It grew and deepened over the years. It was calm and serene and steady.” He took Lynn's hand in his. “I thought that was the way love was."
Lynn asked, “And now?"
"And now I'm not so sure. What I feel for you is explosive, and fiery, and volatile, and it happened almost overnight. I keep asking myself, is this love too? Or is something that will last for a while and then be consumed by the intensity of its own heat?"
Lynn pulled her hand from his grasp. “So what do you want to do?"
Trace spoke slowly. “I would like some time to give our relationship a chance to find its way.” His eyes caressed her. “More importantly, what do you want? Do you think you could ever learn to love me?"
Lynn reached once more for his hand. “I think I already do. But I need time too. You're not the only one who had a firm mind-set about love. My views on the subject have been shaken recently, too.” She patted his arm with her other hand. “You have been a revelation to me. I never dreamed such explosive, all-consuming, satisfying passion could exist between two people.” Color bloomed in her cheeks. “Do you think it could ever be that good again?"
Trace felt his body tighten. “Do you want to find out?"
Lynn stood. Her smile was his answer. He followed her through the kitchen, out the back door, and up the stairs to her apartment.
The moment they were inside the door, Lynn began shedding her clothes. Trace followed her into the bedroom where the came together in an explosion of passion and need that climbed to incendiary heights before bursting into a scorching culmination that left them panting and satiated.
Afterward, Trace rolled onto his back feeling fulfilled and complete. “What do you think after a second time around?"
Rolling onto her side, Lynn laid her arm across his chest. “I think you're wonderful.” She sat up and asked, “Do you like cabbage?"
"What brought that about?” Trace chuckled. “No, I don't."
Lynn lay back down. “Good, neither do I.” She sat up again. “Do you like old movies and country music?"
Trace propped a pillow behind his back and sat up. “I like western movies and rock and roll."
"I can live with that.” Lynn sat cross-legged on the bed. “There are so many things I don't know about you."
"But you'll learn,” Trace assured her, “Just as you will learn to love me."
Lynn pulled a pillow into her arms. “Maybe we should put any talk of love on the back burner for a few months and concentrate on getting to know each other first."
They were in bed, unashamedly naked and they had just made passionate love.
Trace raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I don't think we could be any more intimate than we are now."
"This is not about being intimate,” Lynn replied. “It's about being acquainted."
Trace failed to discern the difference. Obviously, Lynn felt there was a great deal of difference. Some sixth sense told him that trying to persuade her to his way of thinking would be a mistake. “Are you saying you need more time?"
Lynn hugged her pillow to her bare breasts. “Yes, please."
Uneasiness moved in around Trace's feeling of well-being. “How much time?"
"Six months?"
Trace lifted one hand. “I promise no talk of love or commitment for at least six months.” He wasn't sure he could stay true to his rash pledge, but at this point he would have promised anything.
Lynn lay on her back and stretched. “What are you going to tell Ralph about us?"
Trace grinned. “The truth; what are you going to tell Lillie?"
Lynn turned on her side. “The truth, but it won't be easy. Come over here and kiss me."
They intermittently talked and made love until the wee hours of the morning.
Trace was awakened by sunlight streaming through an east window and shining in his face. He stirred and turned to see Lynn sleeping beside him. Quietly he got out of bed, went to the kitchen and began to make breakfast.
This is the beginning, he thought as he put slices of bread into the toaster. These were moments to treasure now and store away to recall when age rested heavily on his shoulders. He was whistling when Lynn came into the room.
The next four months passed swiftly. During that time Trace and Lynn gradually adjusted to living under the same roof. They had numerous disagreements. He had expected as much. Thank goodness they were small and for the most part, inconsequential.
Trace also discovered that Lynn was a sensible person with innate business ability and an unerring eye for the practical. It came as a surprise, all be it a pleasant one, that one so passionate and fiery in bed could be so cool and collected when presented with business situations.
There were occasional arguments. Lynn was obstinate and unmoving when she considered herself to be in the right. However, she was also reasonable and realistic, and willing to listen to his side of a dispute.
As the months passed, Trace's love for Lynn developed and matured. During that time, he kept his promise and carefully refrained from speaking of his growing feelings or mentioning plans for any future they might have together. He concentrated instead on the present and getting to know and understand, as much as was humanly possible, the enigma that was Lynn Evans.
Trace was driving toward home one evening when, like an epiphany, a sure thought settled into his brain. He had waited long enough. The time had come for him to ask Lynn to marry him. It was also high time he told her how much he loved her. He stopped at Jim's Florist and bought a dozen long-stemmed red roses.
All through dinner, Trace looked for an opportunity to broach the subject of their future together. “Do you wonder why I brought you flowers for no apparent reason?"
Lynn looked up from buttering a bun. “Should I?"
She was doing it again, asking questions when she should be giving answers, turning what should be a romantic moment into a question and answer session. Trace countered, “Shouldn't you?"
Lynn changed the subject. “I finally persuaded Mother and Ralph to come to dinner. They will be here at one o'clock next Sunday. I think they're coming around at last."
That was encouraging news. “I ‘m glad, but even if they never accept us as couple, we belong together."
Lynn laid her knife across her plate. “How can you be so sure?"
He had such a lovely speech prepared. The words went right out of his head. This was his perfect opportunity and he couldn't remember a word of his flowery declaration.