Chapter 3 #2
In spite of herself, she was impressed and humbled. Dipping her hand in, she took out fresh vegetables including corn, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes so big and juicy, she was sure she had never seen the likes of them before. And that was not all.
There were eggplants, cucumbers, different types of herbs and mason jars with fresh preserves.
"Compliments of our farm." Leaning on the jamb, he watched her and could have done so for a very long time. She had taken off her jacket as soon as she entered. The camisole was white, a direct contrast to her skin and she wasn't wearing a bra.
The lust came swiftly, and he had to take several breaths to control the intensity.
"This is a farming community."
"Among other things. Have you eaten?"
She looked over at him and tried not to notice how attractive he was and how comfortable he had made himself.
"Why?"
Shaking his head, he approached her. "Are you usually so unfriendly with men you just met?" Reaching into the basket, he took out a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine.
"I've had practice. I suppose you want me to invite you to stay for dinner."
"That would be nice." His amused drawl had her looking up at him. She was surprised to notice that he topped her by several inches.
"You're going to be disappointed. I also do not make it a practice to have dinner with strange men."
"Why don't I try and remedy that?" Turning towards the drawers next to the stove, he started opening them until he found a corkscrew. "Glasses?"
When she just stood there watching him, he reached up top and opened a door to reveal several wineglasses.
"I already told you my name. I live with my dad and uncle a few miles from here.
Big white house, can't miss it." He removed the cork and poured wine into the two glasses.
"I'm thirty-five, never been married and single and available.
" Sending her a charming grin, he handed her the glass.
She considered not taking it, but from the bottle, she realized it was a good vintage.
"What else?"
"I'm not interested in your family history." The wine was very good, she mused as she took another sip.
"If you expected me to be insulted, I'm sorry to disappoint you." He eyed her over the rim, green eyes wandering over her face. "You have a very distinct accent. Where are you from?"
"Somewhere in the US of A."
Leaning against the counter, he continued to stare at her. "New England?" he mused. "New York, Connecticut, Boston?"
Even though she tried not to react, he saw the sliver of surprise on her lovely face. "Boston. Where in that lovely city?"
"Is this contingent on my stay here?"
"No. Just trying to make conversation."
"I'm not interested in having one. Thanks for the wine and..." She gestured to the stuff strewn across the table. "Now, I'm going to ask you to leave."
He lifted his glass and realized that he was going to have to find a way to prolong the conversation. So, she did not want him getting personal. He would leave that alone for now. He just knew he did not want to leave, not yet.
"Mind if I finish the wine?"
Tamping down her irritation, she nodded. "Make it quick."
"This kind of vintage needs to be savored. How long are you here for?"
She merely lifted perfectly shaped brows.
"Okay, too personal." He took a tiny sip. "How about your occupation."
This time she managed not to react. "That's none of your business."
"Have dinner with me, tomorrow night. There's a cozy little Italian place on Bower Street, just a few miles away from here. It's run by a real Italian couple..."
"No."
"All right." He took another sip. "Breakfast? Lunch?"
"Finish your wine and leave."
He was out of time, and he knew if he kept pressing, she was going to be turned off. He was going to have to be patient. He would check on her rental agreement and see how much time he had. But for now, he had to back off.
Draining the glass, he put it inside the sink and turned to leave.
"Your basket..."
"Keep it." He smiled at her as he turned just inside the doorway. "It will give me an excuse to come back for a visit."
She opened her mouth to tell him she did not want him coming back, but the words would not come.
"Goodbye, Mr. Tierney."
"See you soon, Lydia."
Staying where she was, she waited until she heard the door slam shut before she left the kitchen and went to look out the window.
*****
"You were gone for a while." Kevin Tierney strode over to the cabinet to pour himself a glass of scotch. Not hearing anything from the younger man, he turned to look at him curiously.
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
"Did you meet her?"
"I did." Rising, he walked over to pour himself a drink. "She's the woman I'm going to marry."
The glass he had been lifting to his lips was suspended as Kevin stared at his nephew. "Come again?"
"You heard me." Taking the glass of scotch to the comfortable chair around the desk, Kenneth shoved it against the wall and stretched his legs out. He had been back for the past thirty minutes and unable to get his head wrapped around the contract he had brought back with him from his travels.
She was woven in his mind and was stuck there. It had taken a hell of a lot for him not to go back and be with her.
"I think I might have something stuck in my ear. Either that or you have gone plain crazy." His uncle stared at him curiously. "You just met the woman."
"Yeah." He tossed back the drink. "And I told you several times that when I meet the woman I'm going to marry, I will know immediately. It took one look, and I knew." He shrugged. "The problem is, she wants nothing to do with me. I invited her to dinner, and she blew me off."
"I'm shocked. Did you tell her who you were?"
Tossing the older man a tired look, he took another sip of the scotch. "She's unhappy."
"Oh, she told you that, did she?"
"I sensed it." He smiled slightly. "She did not reveal where she's from."
Crossing the room, Kevin sat on the edge of the desk, one long leg swinging.
The Tierney physical features were striking and very strong.
All three men bore a startling resemblance, each having the same features.
Kevin Tierney was younger than his brother by ten years and was more of a brother to Kenneth than an uncle.
"Perhaps it was because you are a perfect stranger. You took her a basket."
"I did, yes."
"And you've decided this woman will be your bride."
"I have."
Sighing softly, his uncle drained his glass. "Let me know when to dust off the tux."
"You think I'm joking."
"Oh, I believe you meant every word." Sliding off the desk, he grinned. "This is going to be very interesting."
*****
"How's it going there?"
"Oh, you're still in the news. More evidence has been discovered. Honey, are you sure you want to hear this?"
Picking up the glass of wine, Aria went to curl up on the window seat. Darkness had fallen quickly, but the full moon was making it possible for her to see the blend of colors from the flowers near the water.
"Yes."
"They discovered who murdered your father."
She drank more wine. "Who was it?"
Amelia paused and felt sick to her stomach that she had to reveal the ugly news to her friend.
"Jack Moore. He ordered the hit."
Aria went still, her fingers tightening around the slender stem. "That's not possible. He was Dad's best friend and my godfather."
"Your father stole from him, thousands of dollars. And slept with his wife."
The saliva in her mouth dried up. "No, no." She had to lean back as she felt her head spinning. "Wilma was Mom's best friend. They hosted functions together."
"She confessed. Honey, they have Jack in custody, and he spilled everything."
"Oh God." Tears spurted and spilled over. "Oh God."
"Honey, I'm so sorry. I thought it was all over."
"So did I." Wiping the tears away, Aria gulped in air and felt as if she was being strangled. Her life was in shambles. Her parents' lives had been a lie. They were dead and still ruining her life. It made her sick.
Aria's grip tightened on the stem of her glass, her heartbeat drumming in her ears as she braced herself for whatever Amelia would say next. She tried to steady her breath, but anxiety pressed into her chest, coiling tighter with every second of silence.
"Are you going to be okay?"
She swallowed the lump that had lodged inside her throat. "Eventually." Drawing her knees up, she wrapped her hands around them in defense. "One day I'm going to be able to look back and not want to slit my wrists."
"Honey..."
"Don't worry, Amelia. Suicide is not on my list of things to do." She took another sip of wine. "I'm going to be all right."
"Are you going to tell me where you are?"
"No." She shook her head. "I want to stay incognito for now. And if you don't know, you won't let it slip."
"You're supposed to trust me."
The hurt tone in her friend's voice twisted her heart. "There's no one I trust more. You're all I have left, but I have to do this my way. For now, I want to stay hidden. I promise I will call and let you know how I'm doing."
"I wish I could do more."
"Believe me, you're doing a lot." She laughed hoarsely. "All my so-called friends turned their backs on me. You're the only one who stayed."
"I will always be here."
"I know. Goodnight, Amelia." Hanging up the phone, she finished the wine and went to get some more.