Read Online Cedar Creek Seasons by Eileen Key - Free Book Online Page B

her open purse. She wore a dress of the same verdant shade. How was it that the green made her eyes bluer? Wilson had once thought he knew everything there was to know about color.
    She fumbled the purse and two of her business cards sailed out. One landed at the feet of a well-dressed woman who retrieved the card and held it out.
    “Please. Keep it,” Willow answered with an adorable smile. The lady examined the card. “Are you Willow?”
    “In the flesh.”
    “My daughter’s looking for a sixteen-inch shelf for my grand …”
    The woman chattered on. Willow opened her trifold brochure, and Wilson took advantage of the opportunity to study the curve of her chin and the way her nose tilted up just the slightest bit. She’d been a little reserved all evening. She wasn’t used to dressing up, she’d said, and there was something endearing about her self-consciousness.
    “Thank you.” Willow nodded to the lady who’d just promised to vote for her.
    Wilson gave her a thumbs-up. “You’re good.”
    She shrugged and took a sip of coffee. Silence hung like a blank canvas, and he couldn’t think of a thing to fill it. He’d already complimented everything green—and blue—at least twice. He swiped his hand to include all the interior of Galioto’s Grille. “Don’t you love what they’ve done to the place?”
    Willow nodded. “You sound like you’ve had some experience with remodeling.”
    “I have, actually. My dad was a contractor. I learned at his knee—er—hammer, I guess.”
    “Must come in handy.”
    More than you know
. He raised his cup. “Would you like more coffee?”
    “No.” She refolded her napkin and set it back on her lap.
    He waited for her to resume eye contact. She didn’t. “Did I say Happy Valentine’s Day?”
    “A few times.” A hint of irritation tinged her voice.
    The hostess approached. “How is everything?”
    Willow squinted at the woman’s uniform. “Gloria. Do you have children, Gloria?”
    The woman grinned. “An eight-month-old girl. Tabatha.”
    “Beautiful name. Wouldn’t you love to see it stenciled on a little chair …” The brochure reappeared as she launched into her spiel. Three minutes later, their hostess walked away promising to “Vote for Willow.”
    “Very … smooth.”
And tacky. What part of romantic dinner for two don’t you understand?
    “Thank you.” She snapped her purse shut. “So. We never did discuss strategy last week.”
    Had she really taken him seriously on that one? They’ddiscussed all the strategy he cared to. Lip to lip. “Okay, well, I’ve spent a few hours at the Shops every day.” If she was doing the same, their paths hadn’t crossed. “I’ve sent out e-mails, texts, and tweets and blogged about it on my site. How is it going for you?”
    “Wonderful. Great. Yeah. Only two and half weeks left.”
    “Until we get the results, but voting ends next Friday.”
    “Right. Yes.” He heard her swallow. “Ten days.”
    If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that was fresh news to her. “No matter who wins, we celebrate together, okay? Something really special. If you win I’ll send you to a spa for a day of pampering and then we can—”
    Their waiter approached. “Can I tempt you with some dessert?”
    Willow smiled. “Do you have children”—her chin jutted forward and she squinted—“Brian?”
    “One, and one on the way.” The young man’s chest broadened.
    “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
    “A boy. That makes two. We …”
    Wilson excused himself and went to the men’s room. He turned on the water. As he reached toward the soap dispenser, his gaze fell on a stack of business cards sitting on the sink.
    Vote for Willow
.
    “Unbelievable.” He yanked a paper towel and ripped it. The dispenser popped open, sending paper rolling across the floor. “If that’s the way you want to play it, lady, you got yourself a fight.” He slammed the wadded paper at the wastebasket, missed, and