Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight (23 page)

Hey, don’t worry about my age! Sam thinks
I’m old enough…

“What I want is to get to know you and for
you to get to know me. Then, if it turns out that I’m what you
want, I’m hoping you might consider me…as a potential marriage
mate…someday,” he explained, all the while carefully scrutinizing
my reaction.

Did he just use the word marriage in
connection with me?

I couldn’t suppress the outward expression
of the inward elation I felt over that. He smiled in relief and
continued.

“I know this is a lot to lay on you during
our first conversation. Probably too much, and I’m sorry about
that, but I’m just trying to say that even though my regard for you
isn’t accompanied by good timing on my part, I have nothing but
honorable intentions toward you. I just want you to understand my
interest in you.”

So apparently he has a high tolerance for
idiocy. What a relief! I’ve definitely found my soul mate!

I needed to conclude this session while I
was ahead. He was fabulous and amazing, but even he couldn’t top
what he’d just said to me. I wanted to be alone to get my mind
around it and make my exit before I said something I would regret.
But there was one more question I needed to ask.

“Those two thugs at the drugstore—do you
know who they were or what they wanted?”

I cringed at my own foolish question. Did I
actually expect him to know the answers to either of those
questions? I found that I was suddenly feeling very nervous over
what had always felt like a bad dream as opposed to an actual
event.

His demeanor darkened a bit before he seemed
to sense my scrutiny and he adjusted his expression to reassure
me.

“No, unfortunately, a police officer
happened upon the scene shortly afterwards and the agents on duty
didn’t get to…learn any more about them,” he explained in a
soothing manner, though I sensed there was more which he chose not
to say.

“Do you think they’ll come back for me?”

I sounded distinctly pathetic as I asked
this.

He smiled a little sadly, tilting his head
as he reached out to pat my hand in a reassuring way. But then a
sardonic expression formed in his eyes as he replied, “We’re all
hoping for that, actually. But I really doubt it. It’s likely that
it was a random attack. I’d try to steal you, if I were a bad guy,
I think,” he paused, smiling self-consciously and then added, “But
please don’t worry. You’re very well protected—all the time.”

The attack seemed about as random as the
security team in place to foil it. Still, I felt certain that he
wasn’t trying to mislead me, so much as comfort me. And speaking of
being over protected, I sensed that my mom must have already
switched into ‘worry mode’ since it was so late.

“Okay. I’d better get inside. May I see you
again tomorrow night: same time, same place?”

I wouldn’t be able to live through time out
of his presence without concrete arrangements for my next hit.

The smile and the nod he furnished in
response to my request nearly stopped my heart. Then the
accompanying jolt of adrenaline shocked it back into quadruple
time. At any rate, I had some reading to do, as it occurred to me
that I needed to review the contents of my new and improved jump
drive—his first present to me. But then again, thinking back over
the last few months, this would just be one more gift in an amazing
series…

Chapter 20
–
Hidden Falls

I felt sorry to mislead her. But it was
necessary, so I let my mom believe that I was spending my Saturday
with Sam, when she wrongly assumed that, as I was gathering my keys
and purse on the counter by the garage door.

“Give Sam my love,” she offered sweetly and
I knew she meant it. She loved anybody who loved
me—unconditionally. No matter if they looked scary, and I hoped, no
matter if their job was watching my every move from the house next
door.

It was exactly one week since my life had
started over. Though it was a new and improved existence, I noticed
that time now behaved erratically with some stretches moving like
ketchup in a glass bottle while other moments shot by like whipped
cream from a can. I soaked up the whipped cream moments with the
same enthusiasm I felt for the topping: eager addiction. These took
the form of short phone calls once or twice each day and even
shorter late night tree-house encounters, about every other evening
with Ash—the guy of my dreams and now my reality! Today was to be
our first real date, and my first date ever. I was beside myself
wrapped up in a painful yet pleasurable mixture of anticipation and
nervousness.

I headed off in the Jeep and glanced at the
instructions one more time, though I felt like I knew where I was
going.

Oldham County was fairly close to where we
lived, but further away from Louisville, and more rural and
picturesque with horse and cattle farms linked between rolling
hills and open spaces that were dotted with woods and lakes. After
a twenty-minute drive, which was an enjoyable activity in itself,
especially with the windows down and the radio cooperating with a
pleasing string of favorite songs, I came to the neighborhood
called Hidden Falls. It was heavily wooded and each home looked to
be custom built with large tree-filled properties providing lots of
space between neighbors. The area was very hilly and this place
seemed sort of precariously perched on the edges of a fairly steep
ravine running along the back of the development.

The address I was looking for took me to the
very end of the road, to the last house. There was a ‘For Sale’
sign near the end of the driveway and I realized with amusement
that I knew the person whose picture was smiling back at me. The
last time I’d seen Leah Shelby and her husband, Jim, was at our
house for a cookout last summer.

Had it been that long? Well, probably
so.

It was hard to get with them because she was
so busy, especially on weekends—a common side effect of being a
successful realtor.

But then I had a scary thought. Was Ash
planning to move away from me? Was I going to have to pretend to
like this house so as not to hurt his feelings? I wasn’t sure my
acting skills were up to that. He hadn’t explained anything about
this place or why we were meeting here, other than we were having a
picnic. I decided to hold off on the panic attack until he gave me
something definite to panic about.

As I pulled around to park next to his
Hyundai SUV (an odd vehicle choice for a security professional, but
one I hadn’t inquired about) he appeared from inside the garage and
walked over to open my door for me; helping me out of my vehicle in
an ultra-polite, gentlemanly, and totally unnecessary move—but I
loved it anyway.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said with a warm
and wonderful greeting smile.

I still couldn’t get over how gorgeous he
was. When I was away from him I felt certain I must be greatly
exaggerating his appeal quotient in my mind, but the real thing, so
obviously happy to see me, was even better—far better—than my
distinctly rose hued mental reflections of him.

Poor thing.

Watching my psychotic life had made him
crazy too, and now he thought he wanted to date me. Just because I
didn’t understand his choice didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to humor
him. I was certainly charitable enough for that.

He guided me, hand in hand, through the
empty garage passing inside to the kitchen. Looking around I could
see that the house was unoccupied, totally vacant and ready for a
quick sale. We kept moving across the kitchen to a door that led to
the decking off the back of the house.

Set up on wide deck suspended over what I
guessed must be a sheer drop to the ravine and creek far below was
a round table with two chairs. It was very elegant with a lace
tablecloth and fabric skirts on the seats. As I approached I
noticed the centerpiece was a stunning floral arrangement which
smelled as beautiful as it looked.

“Lily of the Valley?” I asked as I turned to
him, surprise flavoring my tone.

“Do you like that?” he asked, seeming
pleased, or maybe amused was a better way to describe his
expression.

“I love that, and yellow roses too. How…how
did you know about that?”

Nothing surprised me much anymore, but I was
certain we’d never talked about my floral preferences. They weren’t
normal yellow roses. They had a gorgeous kiss of deep red on the
very tips. I’d never seen anything like it before. I couldn’t take
my eyes off them…until I saw it, resting on one of the plates. Just
like a bee to nectar, I was instantly drawn to the exquisitely
miniaturized bouquet of just four flowers: another yellow red
tipped rose, flanked on each side by a red rose and a yellow rose,
with a tiny spray of lily of the valley in the front and center,
all tied together with a simple piece of twine. The understatement
of the string was in perfect contrast to the glory of the floral
quartet it bound. My hand closed around it and I drew it up for a
closer look and smell.

I was completely dazzled. I didn’t know the
first thing about flowers or their meanings, but I knew for certain
that this piece of nature’s artwork could have no other combined
sentiment than ‘I love you’ as its theme, and that notion made my
heart race wildly.

“Just lucky, I guess. I’m glad you like
them. Will it be alright for you to take them home later so that
you can enjoy them while they last?” he asked.

Apparently he was thinking the same thing
that I was, or would be, once I recovered from romantically induced
cardiac arrhythmia.

“I wish. But how would I explain them to
Mom?” I wondered out loud. Then a happy solution took shape in my
mind. “I guess it would be true to say they’re from a secret
admirer.”

He gently drew me closer and said, “Well, as
long as my admiration is no secret to you, then I’m fine with that
explanation, and I’ll bet she will be too.”

Then he drew up my hand, the one holding the
tiny perfect bouquet, and held it so that we could both smell the
fragrance while looking into each other’s eyes. The pounding
arrhythmia was coming back stronger. My poor heart could barely
handle the glorious assault of those gorgeous, unusual, piercing
eyes, the heavenly fragrance of rose and lilies, his warm hand on
mine, his other hand on my back, this place, this day, and this
fantasy come true!

“Come and sit down so I can serve you
lunch.”

He probably sensed I was close to swooning
and decided it was a good time to seat me.

I don’t know how I overlooked it, because it
was obviously the reason we were there, but once I was seated I
guess I could no longer miss the stunning, forty-foot waterfall
flowing over the rocks of the other side of the ravine, just like
the main attraction at a state park. With all the rain we’d had
recently it was thundering, and obviously had been the entire time,
but as I became aware of it, the sound turned on in my head and
then it seemed suddenly very loud to me. It’s amazing what being so
well distracted can obscure.

He laughed at my reaction to the waterfall.
It must have been very plain that I’d only just now noticed its
amazing beauty and sound…and presence.

“This is the hidden falls…of Hidden Falls,”
he explained. “I thought you’d like this secret place, in fact, I
thought of you the first time I saw it, and I’ve been hoping to
bring you here to see it ever since.”

He looked at me with a wistful
expression.

“Well, then I’m honored to be involved in
your wish fulfillment. Is there anything else I can do?”

Did I just say that out loud?

I was being flirtatious. I’d never done it
before, but I was glad it was coming naturally. Of course, there
would have to be something seriously wrong with me if it didn’t,
present company being what it was. No, I realized that I was
feeling more healthy and feminine than I ever had in my life.

Considering the knowledge that Ash did not
cook, ever, I was extremely impressed with what he’d orchestrated
for our lunch. In fact, as I took it all in, I concluded that he
must have had some female assistance. It was too perfect for a
single guy to have conceived and executed a presentation this well
coordinated and elegant. I was sure he could take credit for the
concept and the main elements, but not the details like fine china,
a crystal container with lemonade and matching mini goblets,
chicken salad on croissants, the tiniest baby carrots I’d ever
seen, and chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. I’m not sure
whether Martha Stewart could have come up with something nicer—but
then maybe that’s who he’d gotten to help him.

It was the most romantic, perfect, enjoyable
picnic ever in the history of picnics. The best part was the view.
Oh, the waterfall tumbling over the rocks with the afternoon sun
making the water and the spray glisten in rainbows was pleasant,
but the incomparable masculine magnificence sitting next to me was
a difficult sight from which to break away. I had hyped up
butterflies bouncing in my stomach, making it difficult to eat,
though I still managed to get down almost half the sandwich and
several strawberries despite myself.

After we were finished eating and he had
cleaned off the table, putting things back inside a large and
cheerfully lined picnic basket, we just sat in the shade, holding
hands and talking, watching the waterfall. I couldn’t imagine a
more perfect setting. Just like the time he’d agreed to join me for
dinner, I was smiling so much that my face hurt—in a good way.

The intense nervousness I’d felt at the
beginning of the day had slipped off almost immediately, the way a
heavy winter coat would be shed by a person arriving at a beach
near the equator. Being with Ash was easy and somehow comforting.
He made me feel safe in a variety of ways: safe from danger, safe
from embarrassment, safe from loneliness, and completely safe from
unhappiness.