Read Online California Homecoming by Casey Dawes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Casey Dawes
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Northern California winter.
Paul had turned out to be a broad-shouldered sound engineer, his long dark hair neatly tucked into a braid. He didn’t say much, but moved with the assurance of someone who knew his place in the world.
Mandy’s eyes followed his every step.
Sarah smiled “It’s the middle of February. What do you expect? Only a few more months ’til spring.” Spring meant gardens. She was going to have to find a gardener.
She frowned. Too many details to running an inn.
“Now what’s wrong?” Mandy asked as she took Sarah’s suitcase from her hand.
“Just thinking of the garden. I need to find someone who can garden.”
“My mother does gardening for other people,” Paul said. “She’s a little strange.” He shrugged. “But she’s good.” He looked at Mandy. “Ready for the mattress?”
Sarah felt helpless as she watched the pair manhandle the unwieldy object out of her mother’s door and up into the truck. The box spring followed.
As soon as her meager belongings were packed, Paul and Mandy snugged a tarp over the contents.
They work well together.
A pang of jealousy went through Sarah. It was the kind of relationship she’d hoped to have with Rick.
“We’ll meet you at the inn,” Mandy called out as she hopped into the passenger seat.
“Okay.” Sarah turned back into the house. Damp cold seeped into her bones.
She gave her mother a hug.
“Are you sure about this?” Elizabeth asked.
Sarah nodded. “Besides, it’s a little late now.” She pasted a grin on her face. “Just wait until I invite you for dinner!”
“I’ll bring take-out,” Elizabeth said. Her eyes watered. “Now get out of here.”
Sarah walked out the door. Everything was changing.
Chapter 8
A bouquet of red carnations in his hand, Hunter arrived at Sarah’s Inn at seven Sunday evening.
He shook his head as he walked to the door.
What the hell am I doing?
No woman in her right mind was going to want anything to do with a one-legged, unemployed man who succumbed to dark moments of depression, no matter how handy he was.
When she opened the door and smiled up at him from a too-pale face, he knew why he wanted to be around her. She was full of life and determination no matter what the cost, exactly as he’d been before he’d become a statistic, a casualty of war.
Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders and stone-encrusted baubles dropped from her ears, but there were dark shadows under her eyes.
She’s probably exhausted.
He wanted to take care of her, erase the cares from the lines on her face.
Instead, he handed her the flowers. “Hello.”
“Thank you,” she said. “That’s sweet. Come in while I put them in water.”
Daisy sniffed him once, wagged her tail, and disappeared down the hall.
He followed Sarah to the kitchen, admiring her swinging hips barely covered with a long purple sweater-dress. Her slim legs were encased in black skin-tight leggings. His libido stirred.
“Thanks for your help yesterday,” she said as she looked blankly around the kitchen.
Damn. Of course she didn’t have anything to put them in.
She finally grabbed a red hardware store bucket and shrugged. “At least it matches.” She laughed as she placed the flowers in the bucket and added water.
It was a nervous laugh. Probably first-date jitters. He certainly had them.
Once she was finished with the flowers, he took her hands. “Relax. We’re simply going to dinner. I’d like to get to know you.” He put his finger under her chin, lifted her face, and brushed her lips with his. “And see if something develops.” He kissed her again and then stepped back.
No sense in scaring her off.
“Sure,” she said, smoothing her unwrinkled dress. “Um … can we hold off on the kissing thing? I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”
The faint blush on her cheeks told him she wasn’t totally adverse to his gestures, but wanted to slow things down.
“Sure.” He had all the time in the world to
Paul had turned out to be a broad-shouldered sound engineer, his long dark hair neatly tucked into a braid. He didn’t say much, but moved with the assurance of someone who knew his place in the world.
Mandy’s eyes followed his every step.
Sarah smiled “It’s the middle of February. What do you expect? Only a few more months ’til spring.” Spring meant gardens. She was going to have to find a gardener.
She frowned. Too many details to running an inn.
“Now what’s wrong?” Mandy asked as she took Sarah’s suitcase from her hand.
“Just thinking of the garden. I need to find someone who can garden.”
“My mother does gardening for other people,” Paul said. “She’s a little strange.” He shrugged. “But she’s good.” He looked at Mandy. “Ready for the mattress?”
Sarah felt helpless as she watched the pair manhandle the unwieldy object out of her mother’s door and up into the truck. The box spring followed.
As soon as her meager belongings were packed, Paul and Mandy snugged a tarp over the contents.
They work well together.
A pang of jealousy went through Sarah. It was the kind of relationship she’d hoped to have with Rick.
“We’ll meet you at the inn,” Mandy called out as she hopped into the passenger seat.
“Okay.” Sarah turned back into the house. Damp cold seeped into her bones.
She gave her mother a hug.
“Are you sure about this?” Elizabeth asked.
Sarah nodded. “Besides, it’s a little late now.” She pasted a grin on her face. “Just wait until I invite you for dinner!”
“I’ll bring take-out,” Elizabeth said. Her eyes watered. “Now get out of here.”
Sarah walked out the door. Everything was changing.
Chapter 8
A bouquet of red carnations in his hand, Hunter arrived at Sarah’s Inn at seven Sunday evening.
He shook his head as he walked to the door.
What the hell am I doing?
No woman in her right mind was going to want anything to do with a one-legged, unemployed man who succumbed to dark moments of depression, no matter how handy he was.
When she opened the door and smiled up at him from a too-pale face, he knew why he wanted to be around her. She was full of life and determination no matter what the cost, exactly as he’d been before he’d become a statistic, a casualty of war.
Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders and stone-encrusted baubles dropped from her ears, but there were dark shadows under her eyes.
She’s probably exhausted.
He wanted to take care of her, erase the cares from the lines on her face.
Instead, he handed her the flowers. “Hello.”
“Thank you,” she said. “That’s sweet. Come in while I put them in water.”
Daisy sniffed him once, wagged her tail, and disappeared down the hall.
He followed Sarah to the kitchen, admiring her swinging hips barely covered with a long purple sweater-dress. Her slim legs were encased in black skin-tight leggings. His libido stirred.
“Thanks for your help yesterday,” she said as she looked blankly around the kitchen.
Damn. Of course she didn’t have anything to put them in.
She finally grabbed a red hardware store bucket and shrugged. “At least it matches.” She laughed as she placed the flowers in the bucket and added water.
It was a nervous laugh. Probably first-date jitters. He certainly had them.
Once she was finished with the flowers, he took her hands. “Relax. We’re simply going to dinner. I’d like to get to know you.” He put his finger under her chin, lifted her face, and brushed her lips with his. “And see if something develops.” He kissed her again and then stepped back.
No sense in scaring her off.
“Sure,” she said, smoothing her unwrinkled dress. “Um … can we hold off on the kissing thing? I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”
The faint blush on her cheeks told him she wasn’t totally adverse to his gestures, but wanted to slow things down.
“Sure.” He had all the time in the world to
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