company in
Billings to approve a sample before the rest were made.
The kitchen grew
quiet. He listened to the wind whistle around the eaves of the house.
He wanted this he realized more than he’d ever wanted anything in his
life. Time spent after a long day with a woman he cared about, someone he could
talk to about his day. He wanted to know more about Delaney, about her
family, where she came from. He closed his fingers over her hand. “You
grew up in Seattle didn’t you?”
She smiled
briefly. “Yeah, my parents are good people but we were never that close. No
sibs. I went to design school and after graduation I was planning to stay there
but when I was offered the job in New York I jumped at the chance. I intended
to stay in Seattle through the holidays but when everything went south with my
boyfriend I decided to leave early and drive.” She glanced away and looked
toward the window over the kitchen sink and toyed with her food without really
eating any of it.
He placed two
fingers beneath her chin and turned her face toward his. “What happened with
your boyfriend? I can’t believe any guy would willingly walk away from
you.”
She chuckled
without humor. “Believe it. He found a skinny model type who probably lives on
nothing but breath mints and cigarettes.”
Rick brought her
hand up and held it between his. “He was a fool to walk away from a gorgeous
woman like you.”
Delaney
shrugged. “Thanks.”
He leaned
forward and lightly kissed her. “I mean it.”
She took a sip
of wine. “I caught him in bed with someone else who weighed a lot less than I
do.” She paused for a moment then looked at him. “So what about you? How did
you find your way here to Avery from Chicago? Why leave the big city for
a small town?”
He slumped back
in his chair but kept his hand resting lightly on Delaney’s. He rubbed the tip
of his index finger absently over the top of her hand. “My mother is Peruvian
and my dad is from Cuba. I have one sister. We’re a loud bunch but a loving
family. It’s too bad you weren’t closer to your parents or had siblings. Dad
drove a cab. He’s retired now, stays home and drives mom nuts.” He smiled
and Delaney smiled back.
“I was a cop for
12 years in Chicago. Growing up my best friend Jake and I were a bit wild.”
Delaney threw
him a teasing smile. “I can’t imagine you being wild.”
Her tone was
sarcastic, the glint in her eyes sexy. “Better not tease me or I’ll never finish
telling you my life story. Mom did the best she could. Dad was in the cab all
the time trying to make ends meet and keep a roof over our heads. He worked
double shifts. My sister was a bit spoiled, just a typical girl always wanting
new clothes, new shoes, new everything. Anyway, and I used to hang out a few
blocks from our apartment house on the corner in front of a drug store. Old
man, Cavanaugh was the owner. When we first started hanging out there he would
walk out with his pork pie hat, his hands stuck into the pockets of his slacks,
sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had a twinkle in his eyes. Mr. C, we used
to call him. He’d had a hard life, came over an orphan from Ireland. But he was
always happy, always smiling. He loved to talk to people especially kids.
He would always show up when he saw bad kids hanging with us and run them off.
He talked to us constantly about staying away from drugs and urged us not to
drink.”
A memory washed
through him like a warm breeze on a summer day. He couldn’t help but
smile as the images unfolded in his mind like the pages of a book. “One day, we
must have been about twelve, he caught us smoking in the alley behind the
store. He promptly march us inside, sat us down and made us smoke an entire
pack of cigarettes each in one sitting.” He laughed. “I’ve never been so
sick in my life I thought I was going to die.” He exhaled a deep breath.
“I never smoked
again. He was a mentor to us. My dad was a
Billings to approve a sample before the rest were made.
The kitchen grew
quiet. He listened to the wind whistle around the eaves of the house.
He wanted this he realized more than he’d ever wanted anything in his
life. Time spent after a long day with a woman he cared about, someone he could
talk to about his day. He wanted to know more about Delaney, about her
family, where she came from. He closed his fingers over her hand. “You
grew up in Seattle didn’t you?”
She smiled
briefly. “Yeah, my parents are good people but we were never that close. No
sibs. I went to design school and after graduation I was planning to stay there
but when I was offered the job in New York I jumped at the chance. I intended
to stay in Seattle through the holidays but when everything went south with my
boyfriend I decided to leave early and drive.” She glanced away and looked
toward the window over the kitchen sink and toyed with her food without really
eating any of it.
He placed two
fingers beneath her chin and turned her face toward his. “What happened with
your boyfriend? I can’t believe any guy would willingly walk away from
you.”
She chuckled
without humor. “Believe it. He found a skinny model type who probably lives on
nothing but breath mints and cigarettes.”
Rick brought her
hand up and held it between his. “He was a fool to walk away from a gorgeous
woman like you.”
Delaney
shrugged. “Thanks.”
He leaned
forward and lightly kissed her. “I mean it.”
She took a sip
of wine. “I caught him in bed with someone else who weighed a lot less than I
do.” She paused for a moment then looked at him. “So what about you? How did
you find your way here to Avery from Chicago? Why leave the big city for
a small town?”
He slumped back
in his chair but kept his hand resting lightly on Delaney’s. He rubbed the tip
of his index finger absently over the top of her hand. “My mother is Peruvian
and my dad is from Cuba. I have one sister. We’re a loud bunch but a loving
family. It’s too bad you weren’t closer to your parents or had siblings. Dad
drove a cab. He’s retired now, stays home and drives mom nuts.” He smiled
and Delaney smiled back.
“I was a cop for
12 years in Chicago. Growing up my best friend Jake and I were a bit wild.”
Delaney threw
him a teasing smile. “I can’t imagine you being wild.”
Her tone was
sarcastic, the glint in her eyes sexy. “Better not tease me or I’ll never finish
telling you my life story. Mom did the best she could. Dad was in the cab all
the time trying to make ends meet and keep a roof over our heads. He worked
double shifts. My sister was a bit spoiled, just a typical girl always wanting
new clothes, new shoes, new everything. Anyway, and I used to hang out a few
blocks from our apartment house on the corner in front of a drug store. Old
man, Cavanaugh was the owner. When we first started hanging out there he would
walk out with his pork pie hat, his hands stuck into the pockets of his slacks,
sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had a twinkle in his eyes. Mr. C, we used
to call him. He’d had a hard life, came over an orphan from Ireland. But he was
always happy, always smiling. He loved to talk to people especially kids.
He would always show up when he saw bad kids hanging with us and run them off.
He talked to us constantly about staying away from drugs and urged us not to
drink.”
A memory washed
through him like a warm breeze on a summer day. He couldn’t help but
smile as the images unfolded in his mind like the pages of a book. “One day, we
must have been about twelve, he caught us smoking in the alley behind the
store. He promptly march us inside, sat us down and made us smoke an entire
pack of cigarettes each in one sitting.” He laughed. “I’ve never been so
sick in my life I thought I was going to die.” He exhaled a deep breath.
“I never smoked
again. He was a mentor to us. My dad was a
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