Daffodils and Danger (6 page)

“Why’s that?”

He smoothed a hand down her braid, fighting the urge to tug at the band holding it together. She was soft beneath his touch and smelled good…like a blend of spicy Italian food and pure woman.

“Because you’re planning to leave, and I’m not.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I’m not a gambler, Wyatt.”

“Then why did you ask me to dinner?”

“To thank you, and because T-bone steaks at the local market only come in packs of two…way too much protein for me to eat on my own.”

“Oh…I see. Yes, that does present a problem.” He removed her splayed hand from his chest and drew her close, swaying into a slow two-step as music from the overhead speakers washed over them. His mom had finally relinquished control of the radio station to him, and the sleep-inducing elevator music she preferred was replaced with pure country. “You dance very well.”

“I’ve had a bit of practice.”

“How so?”

“My secret.” Kami curled her fingers with his. Her breath was warm on his neck. “So, will you help me out…with the steaks, I mean?”

“However we package it, it’s dangerous ground…you, me.” He twirled her, dipped her into a graceful arch. His gaze captured hers and held for a breath, two. “But I suppose I can do that.”

“That’s very…gracious of you.” She smiled up at him as several heartbeats passed before he tugged her smoothly back. “Around seven o’clock OK? It will give me time to get the early-bird dinner crowd served and return home to get things ready.”

“That’s perfect, if you’ll let me do the grilling. Man law…the guy always grills. No exceptions.”

“Well, I guess I can agree to that, sexist as it may be. I’ll—”

“Wyatt, I need—” Reese plowed through the doorway. He paused, backpedaled as his gaze drank in the scene. Both hands went up. “Whoa…sorry to interrupt.”

“Not a problem,” Kami murmured as she slipped from Wyatt’s embrace. “We were just discussing dinner plans—protein, with a side of carbs and some veggies thrown in for good measure.”

“I see.” Reese grinned as he leaned against the door jamb, hooking his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “Sounds like fun. You two dance much better together than you did in the eighth grade.”

“What?” Kami’s blush deepened. “Oh, I’d forgotten all about those silly middle school dances.”

“Yeah, well, I wish I
could
forget.” Reese shook his head. “The bribe money was nice, though…what Wyatt tossed my way to leave you two alone.”

“Reese, that was ages ago.” Wyatt flashed him a death glare. “You can leave now.”

“Zinged a nerve, huh? Can’t say I’m sorry about it. You two need a little nudge.” He shrugged. “Bribe money still works, by the way.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a black eye, maybe a bruised rib or two.”

“What’s all this?” Their mom sidled up to Reese in the doorway, a carryout pizza box from Pappy’s in one arm. The aroma of pepperoni and mushrooms filled the small office. “Are you two at it again? My word, I guess I’ll have to eat this pizza all by myself.”

“I’m joking, Mom.” Wyatt reached for his coffee cup, poured a second helping. “And toss that pie this way. It smells amazing.”

“Humph.” She scooted around Reese, bypassed Wyatt and turned to Kami. “Hi, dear. I just stopped by the pizzeria and you have quite a crowd. “

“Does Jada need help or is she managing all right?”

“I didn’t know you’d left her in charge. Obviously, she missed the memo as well, since she just drove out of the lot.”

“She did
what
?” The smile on Kami’s face collapsed to a frown. “Oh, no. I should hurry back.”

“Anthony looked so tired.” His mother set the pizza box on Wyatt’s desk. “How has he been?”

“Not so good.” Kami backed toward the door, grabbing her rain jacket from the chair.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. What’s going on?”

Wyatt’s heart tugged at the worry that shadowed Kami’s eyes. Her voice, full of mischief only moments ago, tightened into a high-pitched strain.

“I’ll tell you later. I have to get back.” She slipped one arm into a sleeve, then shrugged into the second and lifted the hood to cover her head. “Thank God Fred came by earlier today to help Dad prepare the evening special.”

“Yes, I saw Fred. Such a good nephew to your dad.”

“He’s been a Godsend for sure.”

“Maybe I’ll stop by to see your father later, after the evening crowd settles down.”

“He’d like that. You have a knack for cheering him up.”

“We two are kindred spirits, given the circumstances. Sometimes it just takes a journey through the fire to understand what another heart feels.”

“I suppose so.” Kami gathered the front seam of her jacket together and paused at the door to glance back at Wyatt. “See you later?”

He nodded slightly. “I imagine you will.”

****

“Dad, you have to eat.” Kami’s nerves were a tangled bundle of rubber bands. The lunch crowd had dispersed, and now she tackled the next hurdle—her father’s stubbornness. “It’s not healthy to go for hours—even days—without the proper fuel.”

“I’ll eat when I’m hungry.” Thinning, grizzled hair crowned a mottled head. “Right now, I’m not. Besides, we’re too busy to take a break.”

“You can’t go on like this.” She tossed her order pad onto the service counter. The coffeemaker sputtered, mirroring the percolation of her temper. “I don’t think you’ve had a decent meal since—” She paused as he stiffened, the color draining from his face. “Oh, Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Enough.” He turned away as the bell above the entry door chimed. “Another round of customers just walked in. You’ll need to take their order.”

“The customers can wait.” Kami reached for a plate, piled it high with spaghetti and added a sausage link. “We both know I’m more stubborn than you are, and I’m not going back out there until you eat something. I mean it.”

“Fine.” Her father sighed and reached for a fork. “Hand me the plate.”

“It’ll do you good, Dad.” She passed it his way. “And clean it—all of it. Do like Mrs. Baker with her gazpacho.”

“No one devours Italian food like Mrs. Baker.” He swirled the pasta on his fork. “She’s in a class all by herself.”

“Well, at least we can agree on that.”

“Yes, we can. Even your mother thought so.” He shoved the fork into his mouth, chewed and swallowed linguini noodles. When his lips curled into a slight grin, Kami saw a hint of the humor she remembered…and missed terribly. He waved the fork in the air. “I’ll have a few bites; that’s all. It’s good to taste test.”

“For now, that’s enough. But, how long are you going to continue to mope?” Kami poured him a glass of water. “I miss Mom too, you know.”

“I’m entitled to mope. I’ll be through with it when I’m through.” His gaze darkened as he stuffed a second spoonful of pasta into his mouth and chewed. “An old man like me…I have a right to feel a bit of sadness after such a loss, after so many years.”

“Yes, you do. But, don’t you think it’s time—”

“Hello?” A rapid succession of taps on the serving counter drew Kami’s attention. Mrs. Baker’s fleshy face filled the pass-through window. “Is it possible to get some service here…sometime before I starve to death?”

As if
that
could ever happen. Kami grimaced. She plastered on a smile as she called, “I’ll be right there. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Of course. And a basket of garlic knots would be nice, too, for starters.”

“Coming right up.” Kami turned back to her father as Fred, meandered in from a smoke break in the back parking lot. “Make sure Dad finishes his plate of pasta, OK?”

Her cousin wiped his hands on his apron. “I’ll do my best, but you know better than I do that you’re asking for a miracle.”

6

“How do you like your steak?” Wyatt asked as he took the platter of steaks Kami had marinated and set it on the table beside the grill.

Kami eased in beside him to set a glass of sweet tea garnished with a chunky orange slice on the deck rail. Tonight she wore a baby blue long-sleeved blouse and jeans. Her feet were clad in a pair of boots sporting thin, spiked heels that might be called anything but sensible. Silver teardrops dangled from each earlobe. “I like it still mooing.”

“Me, too.” Wyatt laughed. “I can manage that.” He reached for the grilling tongs as he turned toward sliding glass doors that led to the kitchen. “What do you have in the oven?”

“Peach cobbler.”

“Made from scratch?”

“Of course.”

“It smells like heaven.” Wyatt wondered how she’d managed to throw such a meal together, having spent the day working at the pizzeria. March had slipped into April, and warmer temperatures now brought people through Clover Cove on their way to the Smoky Mountains for hiking and fishing and a lungful of rich, pine-scented air. Given the situation, he was touched that she’d taken the time. Cinnamon whispered from the kitchen, sweet and sticky, causing his belly to yawn. “I vote we devour dessert before the main course.”

“We could do that, except the cobbler needs about twenty minutes to finish.”

“Steaks first, then.” Wyatt winked and knelt to open the propane tank beneath the grill. “This shouldn’t take long at all.”

“Would you like to eat out here?” Kami motioned toward the deck furniture. A black, wrought iron table was flanked by two cushioned chairs. “It’s not too cool, and I could light the chiminea and the tiki torches.”

“Sounds perfect.” Wyatt ignited the grill, humming to himself as he placed a few servings of sliced zucchini, buttered and wrapped in foil, onto the burner. Muted light fingered through a handful of clouds as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting shadows along the deck floor. “Do you have a couple of plates for the steaks when they’re finished?”

“Coming right up.”

Kami slipped into the house and soon her voice lilted on the breeze as she sang along with Kenney Chesney on the radio. Wyatt couldn’t help but grin as he added a touch of seasoning to the steaks. The woman was a surprise around every hairpin curve.

She returned with the plates and a long-tipped lighter. He took the lighter from her and ignited the torch wicks as she set the table. Candlelight flickered over Kami’s pinked cheeks as she turned back to face him. Her hair flowed freely tonight, a midnight-black waterfall that cascaded over her back to caress the slight curve of her hips. Beneath the waning sun, each strand shimmered as if embedded with diamonds. Wyatt fought the urge to skim his fingers along the silky length.

“Oh, I love this song.” She eased toward the doorway as the music segued, her green eyes wide with wonder. “Do you know it?”

“Of course I know it. Lee Ann Womack…
I hope you dance
. Maddie insisted on playing it at Dad’s Celebration of Life service.”

“I’m so sorry I missed that, Wyatt.” The sparkle fled from her eyes as she pressed her hands together, knotting her fingers. “Mom had just come through surgery. She needed me at her side.”

“I understand.” Gently, he plied her fingers apart and took her hand. The time surrounding his dad’s death was a blur in his memory, a freeze-frame of images and gut-wrenching emotions that he’d rather forget. He imagined her mother’s passing was the same. “I didn’t expect you to be there.”

“Even so, I would have come, otherwise.”

“I know.” He pulled her close and felt her stiffen against him. Slowly he swayed, coaxing her to relax. Her perfume was a perfect, sweet complement to the steaks waiting to be tossed on the grill and the cobbler baking in the oven. “I promise I won’t bite. Dance with me?”

“Twice in one day?”

“Why not? I enjoy dancing with you.”

“The steaks…” She tilted her head to peek around his shoulder. “They’ll be overcooked.”

“I haven’t started them yet, so we’re good. I’ll lower the heat so the zucchini will keep.” Wyatt reached back, adjusted the flame. “Now, where were we?”

****

“Right here…” Kami pressed her cheek to Wyatt’s navy polo shirt and felt the brush of his jeans against her legs as their feet skimmed the weathered deck planks in a slow, easy two-step. The clean scent of soap clung to his skin as his fingers twined with hers, holding her in a loose embrace. “And, the fact that you’ve certainly improved since the eighth grade is an added bonus. I think my toes are safe tonight.”

“So all my practice paid off?”

“I’d say so.”

“You’re better, too. How?”

“My dad taught me. He used to turn on the radio and dance with me in our living room.” She shook her head, laughing. “He asserts a girl should have proper dance technique along with a touch of dignity, and not merely shimmy like you see on those TV music videos. As you can imagine, he’s a fan of ballroom dancing. He and Mom used to go together from time to time.”

“I always knew your dad was smart.” Wyatt pressed his chin to the crown of her head. “Remind me to thank him.”

“As a teenager I thought it was so hokey, twirling around the living room with my dad, stumbling over furniture and crashing into table lamps while Mom watched, laughing. But now I realize how special it was that he cared enough to take the time.” She sighed. “I miss him like that—jovial and carefree. He’s changed so much in the past year. Where he used to be light and happiness, now he’s like a candle without a flame. It’s so hard.”

“He’ll get it back again,” Wyatt assured her. “It will just take some time.”

“I don’t know…” Kami shook her head. “I thought so too, in the beginning. But I’m beginning to have my doubts. Your mom seems to have overcome her sadness. How did she do it?”

“Oh, she still has her moments. But she tucks them away and keeps going. She says life is all about steps…taking one and then another in faith. She stays busy bugging Reese and me about when we’re going to settle down and give her grandbabies.”

“And…have you ever thought about that?”

“A time or two…more lately.” He drew her closer while the sun gave the horizon a final goodnight kiss. Candlelight softened the darkness as Wyatt’s breath warmed her cheek. “Remember what you said about the power of prayer?”