Love Starts with Elle (32 page)

Heath thought for a moment, mentally testing his tender spots, then went to the kitchen. Ava’s envelope remained perched in the window, crisp and faded from months of southern sunshine.

Walking out the kitchen door and stepping off the porch, he took the slope of the yard toward the dock, crossing the pine needle garden where the angel-with-splinters waited. Taking a bench seat between two pylons, Heath considered his options while staring at the horizon where clusters of island trees appeared like rolling hills.

He could drop the letter in the water right now and forget she ever wrote it. Or he could read it and say good-bye forever to his first true love.

Or take the letter back inside and let it ride on the window’s ledge for a few more weeks.

Coward. Just read it.

“Heath? You here?”

Heath lifted his head, listening.

“Heath?” A knocked echoed across the yard.

“Out by the creek.”

A dark-suited man rounded the side of the cottage.
Rock?
What in the world? Heath slipped the letter into the pocket of his shorts, laughing as the man practically disrobed in the yard. Coat dangling off his fingers, tie undone, shirt opened with the tail out. “It was a nice sixty-two when I left the city. What is it, a hundred here?”

“Eighties. What are you doing here? Come inside, cool off.” Heath lead Rock to the kitchen and popped open a couple of cold Cokes.

“Bless you, my boy.” Rock gulped down half the can. When he came up for air, a burp slipped through his teeth. “Pardon me, but that hit the spot.”

Heath sat in the chair opposite his old boss and friend. It was good to see him. “So, you didn’t come all the way down here to share a Coke with me and shoot the bull, did you?”

“You e-mailed me about the book being rejected, so I thought,
Strike while the iron is hot, Calloway
. Booked the earliest flight down.”

“Taking advantage of a man when he’s weak?”

Rock toasted Heath with his Coke. “Whatever it takes. The fight’s getting pretty nasty up there. Old school versus the new, arguing over administering the PPP.”

“The old PPP.”
Profits per partner.
He’d earned more than his share over the years.

“I need you.” Rock’s message never changed. “They’re turning my law practice into a competitive, bottom-line machine. First thing in the morning breakout meeting? Money, profits, billable hours. When I started the firm, I wanted to practice law. And so did everyone working for me. Now it’s about making money through the law.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m coming back in September.”

“Make it a ‘for sure’ and I’ll be a happy man. Doc has Olivia Hancock slotted to take your partnership if you don’t return.” Rock downed the last of his Coke. “A man works his whole life for something he believes in, makes a bad choice, and a couple of snot-nosed Harvard guys change everything.”

“See, there’s where you went wrong, Rock. Harvard grads.”

Heath glanced at his watch. “I need to pick up Tracey-Love. Want to ride along and grab some dinner after?”

“Did you notice airlines don’t serve squat for food anymore?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Grabbing his keys, he ushered Rock out the back door and set Ava’s letter back on the windowsill.

Out back on the deck of Luther’s Rare and Well Done, five o’clock was still bright and warm.

From where Elle sat with Jeremiah, she could see the right half of Waterfront Park, the sparkling Beaufort river, and the sleeping boats docked at the marina.

“This job was tailor made for me, Elle.” Jeremiah poured a tiny bit of dressing over his salad. “The staff is great; we click and flow, share common ideas and goals.”

“I’m glad, Jer. I can hear it in your voice when you call. So, did you find a new apartment?”

“Yeah, I did, but”—he took a slow stab at his salad—“I’d rather wait for you this time. Our marriage license is still valid, and Pastor O’Neal could marry us tonight if we wanted.” He caught her eye, communicating passionate things unsaid.

If he’d made the suggestion last night when he pulled into the cottage driveway and met her at the studio, she would’ve said yes. The futon had provided an inviting, soft place to say “hey” and continue to get reacquainted.

For the few weeks he’d been back in her life, Jeremiah had eased off the idea of marriage until last night when he whispered, “I love you, Elle. I want you.”

Since stepping down from ministry, Jeremiah’s passions burned hotter, more fierce. Last night Elle was the one who challenged the journey of his kisses along her neck and down the edge of her top.

Right? Wrong? Everything in her wanted to respond.

“Elle, what do you think?” Jeremiah bit the salad off the tip of his fork.

“I don’t know, Jeremiah. It sounds exciting, but—” She stirred her salad. His confidence and excitement intoxicated her, but this new insistence on marriage made her bristle.

While she took months to pray and wade through her disappointments, Jeremiah had moved forward with rocket speed and intensity. Elle felt sluglike and dull compared to him.

He wiped the edge of his lips with his napkin. “Can’t talk you into a quick wedding yet?”

“If we do this, Jer, we’re doing it right. We disappointed a lot of people last time.”
Mostly me.

“All the more reason not to make a big fuss this go around. Get married quietly, hold a reception later. Save us and your parents the expense—”

“Miss Elle.” A fuzzy little blonde head crashed against her lap.

“Tracey-Love, where’d you come from?” Elle wrapped the girl in her arms, kissing her forehead.

“M-my daddy.” Tracey-Love pointed back at Heath, a very serious tone in her voice, as if Miss Elle should know better.

“Yes, you did.” Elle glanced up at Heath, turning Tracey-Love around, pulling her crooked ponytail free. “What are y’all doing?”

“Elle, this is my boss, Rock Calloway.” Heath motioned to a slender, silver-haired man who carried an aura of sophistication. “He’s after a good burger.”

Elle looked up at him as she combed TL’s hair into place with her fingers. “You’ve come to the right place. How was school today, Tracey-Love?”

“We have ants.”

“Do you?” Elle swished the girl’s hair into a sleek ponytail.

“An ant
farm
, right?” Heath gazed down at her, a soft, pleasant look in his eye, fatherly pride around the edge of his face.

“Yep, farm, but they don’t grow veg-ables.” She bobbed her head, so serious.

“They don’t? Goodness, but we love our vegetables.”

“Except broccoli.” TL curled her nose.

“So, Mr. Calloway, how do you like the lowcountry?”

“Hot. But beautiful.”

“You’ll get used to it.” She glanced at Jeremiah and introduced him. The men gripped hands.

“Jeremiah used to play for the Dallas Cowboys, Rock,” Heath said.

“Did you now? My old favorite team. I follow the Giants these days.”

The comment sparked football talk until the waitress came out and asked if Heath’s party wanted to join the table.

Elle stiffened. Jeremiah and Heath at the same table. She’d never get her dinner down.

“No, thanks,” Heath said. “We’ll take the vacant spot in the corner.”

Jeremiah asked for the bill. When he’d signed the credit card receipt, he led her off the back steps toward Waterfront Park.

Elle glanced over at Heath. “See you.”

“Night, Elle.”

Rock gazed at the water. “The artist?”

“How’d you know?” Heath had settled it in his heart. Elle was with Jeremiah.

“The look on your face. She a threat to my plans for you coming back?”

Rock should turn off his people radar and enjoy the freaking view. “I thought you were hungry. Read your menu so we can order.”

Rock chuckled, opening his menu. “Either way, congratulations, you’ve entered the land of the living. And it’s a good thing I decided to come down, remind you there’re a lot of beautiful women in New York. Artists too.”

“They’re not the same.” Heath scanned the burger section, not really reading. “She’s probably going to marry him.”

“Probably? I know a lawyer who used to get acquittals on a probably. Reasonable doubt, my friend. Make your move. The Barbeque Burger looks good.”

Heath peered at Rock. “If I make my move, it may ruin your plans.”

“Bring her with you. A married Heath makes a happy lawyer.” Rock closed his menu. “But don’t come to Calloway & Gardner pining for her. I’ll have no sympathy.”

Heath heard Rock loud and clear. In fact, he expected nothing less from the man.

“Any word from Mitzy Canon?”

“Nothing more than a request for samples.” Heath picked up one of TL’s crayons and started coloring her picture.

“Hey, this is mine.” She shoved his hand away with an intense furrow between her eyebrows. “You color yours.”

Rock laughed. “She can handle you just fine.”

Heath put his hand on her hair. “Getting there.”

The waitress came around for their drink order, and Rock picked out a couple of appetizers. “Make your move or live with the consequences.”

Heath watched Tracey-Love color carefully between the lines.

“It’s nothing, Rock, a schoolboy crush.”

“Do you love her?”

Heath hid his eyes behind a swig of tea. “I told you, a school boy crush.”

Jeremiah swept her into his arms, kissing her temple. Elle smoothed her hand over the thick pump of his chest. The water and grass-scented wind also carried a hint of Jeremiah’s sandalwood fragrance.

“Offer still stands,” he said, dipping his head for a kiss. “I’ll call Eli, and in an hour, you’ll be my wife.”

“Jeremiah, come on, you’re not serious. What about our families and friends?”

“They’d understand. We’re not young, starry-eyed kids who don’t know the difference between the pageantry and reality.”

“Even so, I want my family there, and my friends. Besides, I’m working a show for Darcy’s Summer Art Walk. And who knows, maybe Mitzy Canon will want to show my work in her gallery. I can’t just pick up and—”

“Paint in Tallahassee. Travel up here whenever you want.”

A river-wet gust slipped along the edge of the park. Her excuses weren’t buying her any time.

“It’s not
doing
, Jeremiah. It’s
being
. I can
do
all day long. The question is can I be with you? Can I trust you? Will something come along that causes you to choose yourself, your career, over me?”

“That’s the old Jeremiah.”

“Old? Already? It’s only been four months since we broke up, only a few weeks since you quite the job.”

They walked through a warm pocket of evening as they made their way to the marina parking lot. “I’ve changed, Elle. Look close enough and you’ll see.”

If she had to look close, had he really changed?

He walked beside her, graceful and casual. “So, who’s this Mitzy Canon person you’re talking about?”

“She’s a gallery owner in Manhattan and based on her experience and networking, she’s earned this reputation as an artist maker. If she says an artist is good, then they are good.”

“And she thinks you’re good?”

Elle shrugged. “From your lips to God’s ears. So far, she’s only
reviewing
my work for a
possible
place in her spring show.”