Not to have you think you’re going to be best friends. Because trust me, that isn’t what she wants.”
“And how do you know what Cassie wants, Commander Beaufort? You know what everyone wants—”
“Don’t be an ass. You don’t understand—”
“So tell me! What don’t I know?” Barrie turned to him and waited, but Eight set his jaw and stared out the windshield. She flounced back against the seat. “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“I promised I wouldn’t say.”
“Then it isn’t up to you to tell me what to do.”
She was sick of people telling her what to do. She would have loved to tell Eight she didn’t need a ride either. But shedidn’t know how to drive . . . and Pru wasn’t likely to take her to the Resurrection. Too bad she hadn’t thought faster and told Cassie to go ahead and pick her up. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could find Cassie’s number and call her.
The gate stood wide open when they reached Watson’s Landing, and Eight drove straight through. Barrie hadn’t even realized how much tension had built up inside her, until it vanished in the dappled light beneath the Watson oaks. She wished they were at the house already so she could go curl up on her bed, but Eight slowed to a crawl behind a blue mini-van with New Jersey license plates. He practically kissed its bumper. Which was Eight’s problem right there. He was pushy.
“Back off a little, can’t you?”
“They’re going ten miles an hour.” He flicked her a maddeningly good-natured look.
“They’re probably looking around. That’s kind of the point.”
The family in the minivan weren’t the only ones doing that. Closer to the house a young mother was trying to corral a pair of toddlers who were chasing the two peahens that had wandered too close to the family picnic. A white-haired man and his pink-skinned wife leaned on each other as they hobbled away from the parking area toward the tearoom.
Apart from the tourists, the scene gave Barrie a lurchingsense of déjà vu. Pru’s ancient car stood in the same place as when Barrie had first arrived. It looked forlorn without its peacock hood ornament. Pru was out front again, too, teetering on a ladder, trying to fix the fallen shutter. Barrie ran to hold the ladder as soon as Eight slid the car to a stop. Even so, he somehow managed to get there first. What was it with him?
“Here, Miss Pru,” he said. “Switch places with me.”
Not, Can I do that for you? Just Switch places with me . Pushy.
“He has no business telling you what to do,” Barrie said, loud enough for him to hear.
“What? I was hoping he would offer.” Pru handed down the shutter and followed after it to trade places with Eight. “What’s wrong, sugar? Didn’t you have a good time in town?”
“I met my cousin. Cassie.” Barrie injected extra enthusiasm into her voice. “She was great. Fantastic. But I barely got a chance to talk to her, so I’m going to have dinner with her tonight to meet some of her friends. As long as you don’t have any special plans, I mean.” Barrie peeked at Pru from beneath her lashes, hoping she wouldn’t see refusal. Or rage. “It’s okay, isn’t it? Please say yes. I’d really like to go, and I promise I’ll get up early tomorrow morning to help around here. I know I’ve been useless so far.”
“I don’t need your help. That’s one problem you don’thave to worry about.” Pru handed the shutter up to Eight. “Having dinner with your cousin, though—”
“She couldn’t have been nicer! Honestly. Eight said there are . . . well, issues . . . between the families, but I have to go to school with her.”
Pru glared at Eight. “I told you. I told you, and your father told you. But you didn’t listen.”
“Hey, don’t look at me.” Eight shrugged and frowned at Barrie. “I tried to talk her out of dinner. Good luck talking her out of anything she thinks she ought to do.”
Barrie refused to let him draw
“And how do you know what Cassie wants, Commander Beaufort? You know what everyone wants—”
“Don’t be an ass. You don’t understand—”
“So tell me! What don’t I know?” Barrie turned to him and waited, but Eight set his jaw and stared out the windshield. She flounced back against the seat. “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“I promised I wouldn’t say.”
“Then it isn’t up to you to tell me what to do.”
She was sick of people telling her what to do. She would have loved to tell Eight she didn’t need a ride either. But shedidn’t know how to drive . . . and Pru wasn’t likely to take her to the Resurrection. Too bad she hadn’t thought faster and told Cassie to go ahead and pick her up. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could find Cassie’s number and call her.
The gate stood wide open when they reached Watson’s Landing, and Eight drove straight through. Barrie hadn’t even realized how much tension had built up inside her, until it vanished in the dappled light beneath the Watson oaks. She wished they were at the house already so she could go curl up on her bed, but Eight slowed to a crawl behind a blue mini-van with New Jersey license plates. He practically kissed its bumper. Which was Eight’s problem right there. He was pushy.
“Back off a little, can’t you?”
“They’re going ten miles an hour.” He flicked her a maddeningly good-natured look.
“They’re probably looking around. That’s kind of the point.”
The family in the minivan weren’t the only ones doing that. Closer to the house a young mother was trying to corral a pair of toddlers who were chasing the two peahens that had wandered too close to the family picnic. A white-haired man and his pink-skinned wife leaned on each other as they hobbled away from the parking area toward the tearoom.
Apart from the tourists, the scene gave Barrie a lurchingsense of déjà vu. Pru’s ancient car stood in the same place as when Barrie had first arrived. It looked forlorn without its peacock hood ornament. Pru was out front again, too, teetering on a ladder, trying to fix the fallen shutter. Barrie ran to hold the ladder as soon as Eight slid the car to a stop. Even so, he somehow managed to get there first. What was it with him?
“Here, Miss Pru,” he said. “Switch places with me.”
Not, Can I do that for you? Just Switch places with me . Pushy.
“He has no business telling you what to do,” Barrie said, loud enough for him to hear.
“What? I was hoping he would offer.” Pru handed down the shutter and followed after it to trade places with Eight. “What’s wrong, sugar? Didn’t you have a good time in town?”
“I met my cousin. Cassie.” Barrie injected extra enthusiasm into her voice. “She was great. Fantastic. But I barely got a chance to talk to her, so I’m going to have dinner with her tonight to meet some of her friends. As long as you don’t have any special plans, I mean.” Barrie peeked at Pru from beneath her lashes, hoping she wouldn’t see refusal. Or rage. “It’s okay, isn’t it? Please say yes. I’d really like to go, and I promise I’ll get up early tomorrow morning to help around here. I know I’ve been useless so far.”
“I don’t need your help. That’s one problem you don’thave to worry about.” Pru handed the shutter up to Eight. “Having dinner with your cousin, though—”
“She couldn’t have been nicer! Honestly. Eight said there are . . . well, issues . . . between the families, but I have to go to school with her.”
Pru glared at Eight. “I told you. I told you, and your father told you. But you didn’t listen.”
“Hey, don’t look at me.” Eight shrugged and frowned at Barrie. “I tried to talk her out of dinner. Good luck talking her out of anything she thinks she ought to do.”
Barrie refused to let him draw
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