Dorothy Clark - Lessons from the Heart

“Really?” Erin tipped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at him, relieved that, for whatever reason, his high-voltage grin had faded into a low-amp smile. “And I say, you’re ready to take a tumble, Mr. Carlson. I accept your challenge.”

“Good!” The trunk lid thudded down, emphasizing the word. “Have you eaten?”

Erin shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Do you like subs?”

She nodded. “Yes, but—”

“Great!” He handed her the box. “You set up the game, while I run across the street and get a couple of subs—my treat. What’s your pleasure?”

She stared at him a moment, then acquiesced. She was hungry. “A half ham and cheese—easy on the oil.”

“Soda to drink?”

Not since Mr. Gorseman had drugged hers. She suppressed a shudder and shook her head. “I’ll have coffee and a chocolate-chip cookie.”

David’s grin returned. “A woman after my own taste buds! Okay, you’ve got it.” He pivoted.

“Wait!” She gave him an apologetic smile when he turned back. “I forgot to tell you I want three creamers with the coffee.”

“Three!” David gave her a look of absolute horror. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a cup of milk and just have them toss a spoonful of coffee in it?”

She grinned at his teasing. “Don’t be a coffee snob, David. I happen to like it that way. Three creamers.”

He gave an exaggerated shudder. “All right. To each their own. But it’s sacrilege.”

Erin watched him jog across the road, then turned and headed for the picnic table, not quite certain what had just happened. David Carlson was too charming for her own good. He had breached her defensive walls. But one simple word game in a public park couldn’t hurt.

“Ah, I’ve got one—torose.” David laid down his tiles. “Now, with the s added to graze and on a double-word square that will be forty-four points.”

“Wait a minute!” Erin laughed and shook her head. “I’ve never heard of torose. Use it in a sentence.”

David raised his left eyebrow and gave her a diabolical grin. “Are you challenging me, Miss Kelly?”

She lifted both her hands into the air in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t dare challenge you, Mr. Carlson. I learned my lesson on retene.” She gave a little laugh that reminded him of water flowing swiftly over rocks in a creek bed. “This request is for my edification only.”

“In that case…” David made a manly effort to pull his thoughts back from Erin to the game. “The stem of many plants is torose in nature.” He grinned. “That’s knobby to the uninformed.”

“Another new word learned for me—and another forty-four points earned for you.” Erin gave a magnified sigh. “I can see if I ever want to win a game with you, I’m going to have to start reading the dictionary in my spare time.” She jerked her gaze to his. “That was just a comment. I wasn’t implying anything.”

“I didn’t think you were.” David scanned her face. Tension had drawn the muscles taut. He smiled. “But it wouldn’t bother me if you were. I always grant a rematch. It’s only fair. I like to be a gracious winner.”

His teasing had the desired effect. Erin visibly relaxed and began to study the board. David studied her. What was it about the woman that undermined his determination to stay away from her? She wasn’t tall and blond, or sophisticated and classically beautiful like the women he usually dated. Quite the opposite. She only came up to his chin. And right now, her dark-red hair was held up on the top of her head with one of those puffy fabric things Brandee wouldn’t be caught dead in, and those little bits of hair that had popped free were driving him crazy!

David’s fingers twitched. He pulled his gaze away from the errant tresses and took inventory of the rest of Erin’s face. She had a sort of pert little nose. And great cheekbones. And her mouth… His went dry. It was dangerous to look at Erin’s mouth. She wore no lipstick and her lips looked so soft and inviting—

“—be forty-two, thank you very much!”

David snapped back to attention. “I’m sorry?”

Erin pointed at the board. “Squat—on a triple-word square. That will be forty-two points please.”

No extra long, fashionably painted nails. Just a nice, neat manicure. David picked up his pen and added her score. “That makes you twenty-seven points behind me.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Not exactly a commanding lead for me.”

“Not exactly.”

Her answering grin took him like a fist in the stomach—again. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive many more such blows, but he couldn’t think of a nicer way to expire. He also couldn’t concentrate. He glanced at his tiles, then looked at the board. A drop of rain fell on the z in blaze and spattered across the checkered surface. Another fell. Then another.

“Uh-oh!” Erin reached for the box.

“I’ve got it.” David jumped to his feet, scooped the tiles into the box then folded the board and slapped it on top. By the time he got the cover on, Erin had shoved the residue of their impromptu picnic into the paper bag.

Rain pelted down.

“Come on!” David darted around the table, grabbed Erin’s free hand and ran toward the gazebo at the end of the path. When they arrived, his admiration for her took another giant leap upward. Her hair was wet, her clothes soaked and she was laughing. Brandee would have been screaming bloody murder! Not that she would have been playing a word game in the park in the first place. He felt a tug and lowered his gaze to their joined hands. He didn’t want to, but he let go.

Erin turned and dropped the bag into the trash can beside the steps. “Well that’s a first!” She shook her head, laughing as droplets of water flew everywhere. “I’ve never had a board game called because of rain.”

“Nor I.” David got lost somewhere in Erin’s dark green eyes. “We have to have a rematch now. I don’t want my reputation sullied by a questionable win.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Anytime, Mr. Carlson. Anytime!”

David’s hand clenched so hard the box popped. He put it down on the wide railing before he destroyed it.

“Where’d everyone go?” Erin glanced around. “Are we the only ones who took refuge here?”

David nodded. “I guess everyone else must have seen the rain coming and left.”

“Smart people.” She raised her hands and wrapped them about her bare upper arms. “I guess we were too involved in our game to notice the clouds rolling in.”

“I guess.” David frowned. She was shivering. “You’re cold. I’m sorry I don’t have a jacket to offer you, perhaps this will help.” He moved forward, folded his arms around her clasped ones and pulled her back against him. The moisture from the back of her sleeveless sweater penetrated his shirt front, momentarily cooling the skin on his chest. He took a breath, inhaling the suggestion of citrus that clung to her hair. His heart started thudding in time with the rain drumming on the roof. His grip tightened.

Erin went rigid, then shot from his grip like a bullet from a gun. He stared at her in astonishment.

“I’m all right now.” She wrapped her arms around herself again and turned to look out at the park. “Do you like rain? I’ve always loved it. When I was young I used to beg my mother to let me go outside and walk around the yard just so I could listen to it beating on my umbrella. I still go for walks in the rain. And, I suppose it’s silly, but I love to sit in a car when rain is pattering on the roof. Or on my back porch, so I hear it on the roof.”

She was nervous! She was chattering like a magpie. At such an innocuous touch? David didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. He put the debate aside until later. “I didn’t enjoy rainstorms as a kid. They interfered with playing ball. But I did like riding my bike through the mud puddles afterward.”