dryly. "In fact, I feel distinctly woozy. Maybe Dixie would like to walk out on the porch with me for a breath of cool air."
"But..." Dixie motioned helplessly around the kitchen.
Sylvie belted her one on the shoulder. "Go, go! You think I don't know my way around a kitchen? My Sid, God rest his soul, always said I could give lessons to the finest chefs. I think you're in a catatonic state, anyway, Dixie. What kind of help would you be? None. This kind of help I don't need. Go outside. I'll call you if a drain gets clogged."
"But--but--" Dixie stammered.
Jake took her gently by the arm and led her out onto the wide porch with Adirondack chairs and wildly flowered cushions. He positioned her in front of one and leaned casually against a post, crossing his arms and ankles.
"I thought I'd better rescue you before she knocked you out," he said, smiling softly.
Dixie didn't say anything. She knotted her hands against her stomach and looked everywhere but at Jake. She had planned for tonight to be a respite from confusion. Instead, she felt as if she had been thrust into a maelstrom. She wanted time to sort through the tangled knot of thoughts and questions in her head, but time was not siding with her.
"Sometimes lightning just strikes, you know." Jake murmured, reading her mind. With lazy grace he pushed himself away from the post and closed the distance between them.
"I know," Dixie whispered. "I just wasn't ready for it, is all."
She'd spent so much time in emotional isolation, healing old hurts, building new strength. She'd forgotten about this aspect of being a woman--attraction, courtship, the sparks and heat of desire. She wasn't sure she was ready for it.
"I didn't come here to hurt you, Dixie," Jake said. "I want you to believe that."
The poignant honesty in his blue eyes touched her in an odd way. She gave him a curious look and reached up to brush away a stray strand of golden hair that had fallen across his forehead.
"I know that," she said. "Don't mind me 'cause I'm skittish. I just think you're a little too good to be true, is all. Never had a man like you look at me twice."
"I have my doubts about that, but I can tell you I've looked. More than twice. I like what I see."
He still hadn't quite figured it out, but she had him dazzled. It didn't matter that she wasn't tall and blond with the body of a health club goddess. She was Dixie, and she had thoroughly bewitched him. Jake had decided to give in to it. That morning in the cluttered front of her Bronco, he'd let loose of reason and logic. Dixie was a mystery to him, but the only way he was going to figure her out was to experience her, to let go of his famous control for once and allow himself to be swept away.
There would be all kinds of trouble waiting for him downstream. He knew that. He had painted himself into a tight corner by not telling her the truth about what he was doing here. But he couldn't right that wrong now, not when she looked so vulnerable, not when she was just waiting to get hurt. He would put it off a little longer and trust that she would understand when the time came.
He took her by the hands and backed across the porch, smiling. "You look very fetching tonight, Dixie."
She giggled and shrugged. "Yeah, I clean up pretty good."
"I'll say."
He turned her in a pirouette, admiring her dress. It was a soft knit sheath in rich coffee brown and it hugged every ripe curve of her body with subtle grace that accented rather than emphasized. Fitted demurely at the neck in front, it opened in a V down the back, revealing a wedge of creamy skin. On her earlobes she wore large buttons of gold-rimmed mother-of-pearl and at her neck was a simple tiny chain of gold with a small charm that caught Jake's eye and stirred a vague sense of recognition.
"That's unusual," he said, fingering the delicate golden replica of a sea star.
Dixie looked down at where his thumb was brushing her breastbone, making her heart race. "An
"But..." Dixie motioned helplessly around the kitchen.
Sylvie belted her one on the shoulder. "Go, go! You think I don't know my way around a kitchen? My Sid, God rest his soul, always said I could give lessons to the finest chefs. I think you're in a catatonic state, anyway, Dixie. What kind of help would you be? None. This kind of help I don't need. Go outside. I'll call you if a drain gets clogged."
"But--but--" Dixie stammered.
Jake took her gently by the arm and led her out onto the wide porch with Adirondack chairs and wildly flowered cushions. He positioned her in front of one and leaned casually against a post, crossing his arms and ankles.
"I thought I'd better rescue you before she knocked you out," he said, smiling softly.
Dixie didn't say anything. She knotted her hands against her stomach and looked everywhere but at Jake. She had planned for tonight to be a respite from confusion. Instead, she felt as if she had been thrust into a maelstrom. She wanted time to sort through the tangled knot of thoughts and questions in her head, but time was not siding with her.
"Sometimes lightning just strikes, you know." Jake murmured, reading her mind. With lazy grace he pushed himself away from the post and closed the distance between them.
"I know," Dixie whispered. "I just wasn't ready for it, is all."
She'd spent so much time in emotional isolation, healing old hurts, building new strength. She'd forgotten about this aspect of being a woman--attraction, courtship, the sparks and heat of desire. She wasn't sure she was ready for it.
"I didn't come here to hurt you, Dixie," Jake said. "I want you to believe that."
The poignant honesty in his blue eyes touched her in an odd way. She gave him a curious look and reached up to brush away a stray strand of golden hair that had fallen across his forehead.
"I know that," she said. "Don't mind me 'cause I'm skittish. I just think you're a little too good to be true, is all. Never had a man like you look at me twice."
"I have my doubts about that, but I can tell you I've looked. More than twice. I like what I see."
He still hadn't quite figured it out, but she had him dazzled. It didn't matter that she wasn't tall and blond with the body of a health club goddess. She was Dixie, and she had thoroughly bewitched him. Jake had decided to give in to it. That morning in the cluttered front of her Bronco, he'd let loose of reason and logic. Dixie was a mystery to him, but the only way he was going to figure her out was to experience her, to let go of his famous control for once and allow himself to be swept away.
There would be all kinds of trouble waiting for him downstream. He knew that. He had painted himself into a tight corner by not telling her the truth about what he was doing here. But he couldn't right that wrong now, not when she looked so vulnerable, not when she was just waiting to get hurt. He would put it off a little longer and trust that she would understand when the time came.
He took her by the hands and backed across the porch, smiling. "You look very fetching tonight, Dixie."
She giggled and shrugged. "Yeah, I clean up pretty good."
"I'll say."
He turned her in a pirouette, admiring her dress. It was a soft knit sheath in rich coffee brown and it hugged every ripe curve of her body with subtle grace that accented rather than emphasized. Fitted demurely at the neck in front, it opened in a V down the back, revealing a wedge of creamy skin. On her earlobes she wore large buttons of gold-rimmed mother-of-pearl and at her neck was a simple tiny chain of gold with a small charm that caught Jake's eye and stirred a vague sense of recognition.
"That's unusual," he said, fingering the delicate golden replica of a sea star.
Dixie looked down at where his thumb was brushing her breastbone, making her heart race. "An
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