Valerie Hansen - The Hamilton Heir

“Depends,” Dawn said with a lopsided grin. “If she remembered to put the sugar in this time, it won’t hurt a bit. If she got it mixed up with the salt like she did the last time, that’s another story.”

Ada returned before Tim could comment. She held out a plastic bag containing four puffy discs of dough that resembled lumpy oatmeal. “I packed ’em up so you could take ’em along.”

“Thank you, Miss Ada,” Tim said, graciously accepting the gift. “We’ll enjoy them while we drive. I’m pleased to have met you.”

The elderly woman eyed Dawn. “He’s got manners, too, bless his heart.”

“That, he does.” Dawn was already on her way to the door. “Good night, Miss Ada.”

“Night, children,” Ada said. “Y’all be good, y’ hear.” She tittered. “But not too good. Life’s too short to pass up the chances the Good Lord gives us. Take it from me. If I had it all to do over again…”

Dawn had reached the door, pushed it open and flung herself through. Tim was following too slowly to suit her so she grabbed his shirtsleeve and tugged him along, not letting go till they were at the car.

“I take it she’s a widow,” Tim said.

“Yes. Has been for ages. If anyone should be out looking for companionship, it’s Ada Smith.”

Tim chuckled. “Something tells me it would take a very special man to satisfy her. Someone hard of hearing, maybe?”

That made Dawn laugh. “And tolerant. And definitely someone who loves her grandchildren, which is a pretty tall order.” She climbed into the car unaided and was fastening her seat belt when Tim slid into the driver’s seat.

“She was right about one thing.” His hands were on the wheel, his eyes staring straight ahead.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Tim said quietly. “You really do have pretty hair.”

After they’d completed the meals-on-wheels deliveries and dropped the carrying boxes back at the church, Dawn expected Tim to merely let her off at her apartment and be on his way. However, when he parked, he got out.

She looped the strap of her purse over one shoulder and hesitated on the sidewalk. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. I actually enjoyed myself. Some of those people are fascinating.”

“Told you so.” He was still not making any move to get back into his car and she wasn’t sure what to do about it. “Well, good night.”

He quickly circled the BMW and joined her. “I’ll walk you up.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Tim was firm. “I think it is.”

“Well, I don’t. I come home every night by myself and go in without an escort.”

“Tonight, you have one.”

“I don’t need one.”

“Humor me. I’ll feel safer knowing I took you all the way to your door.”

“Are you implying that my neighborhood isn’t safe at night because I don’t live in a gated complex like you do?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but you implied it.”

Tim stared at her, his expression unyielding. “Look. I don’t care where you live or what your neighbors are like. You heard what happened to Felicity Simmons. My brother Chris had to be assigned as her bodyguard.”

“That was a stalker, not a random crime. Felicity told me all about it.”

Tim folded his arms across his chest, struck a nonchalant pose and began to smile. Dawn could tell by the smug look on his face that he wasn’t going to back down.

“You’re going to stand there all night if I don’t let you walk me up, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Sure am. I can hold out as long as you can.”

“Probably longer,” she muttered, pouting. “Okay. You can escort me to my door if it’ll make you happy. But that’s as far as you go. You’re not coming in.”

“Of course not.” Tim fell into step behind her. “You didn’t think I was hitting on you, did you?”

The thought had occurred to Dawn, especially after his compliment about her hair, but she kept her wild imaginings to herself. Of course Tim Hamilton wasn’t hitting on her. It was ridiculous to think he might be interested in her when he had so many high-society glamour queens to choose from. As his administrative assistant, there wasn’t a day went by that she didn’t have to field at least one or two calls from women like that. It didn’t matter that Tim rarely followed up on their invitations. They were still standing in line and waiting to go out with him whenever he was ready. That was all that counted.

The few minutes it took them to climb three flights of stairs to her apartment wasn’t long enough for Dawn to quiet her nerves or settle her mind. She still had butterflies in her stomach when she reached her door, turned to face Tim and held out her hand. “Good night.”

Belatedly, she realized what a mistake that normally inconsequential gesture was. Tim grasped her hand but instead of shaking it the way he would have if she’d been a man, he cradled her fingers gently and looked directly into her eyes. Dawn couldn’t move, could hardly force herself to continue breathing.

“I want you to know how much I value the opportunity I had to make the rounds with you tonight,” he said quietly, sincerely. “You gave me a new appreciation of the hard work so many volunteers do. I honestly had no idea.”

She strained to pull her hand away and he reluctantly let go. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And thanks for giving all that extra food from Betty’s to the last family. I’m sure the Martins are grateful. They need all the help they can get, especially until Jordan’s able to go back to work again.”

“Glad to do it.” Tim smiled. “You warned me I’d better not throw anything away and it seemed a logical alternative. I’m glad I was there to help you carry that heavy case of baby formula up those stairs for them. Do you usually lug it all that way yourself?”

“Sure. When I need to.”

Tim stepped back and thrust his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Well, you must be tired, so…”

“Exhausted,” Dawn said. “Thanks for the ride.”

He took another step away. “You’re welcome.”

Turning, she fumbled to get the key into the lock, finally succeeded, and started to duck into her apartment. Just as she did, something very substantial pushed past her legs without a sound.

All she had time to shout was, “Beau, no!” before the mastiff leaped and pinned Tim against the wall of the dimly lit hallway.

Dawn grabbed the dog’s collar and tugged, yelling, “Beau! Down.” He yielded easily.

To Tim she said, “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” He was wiping his face and seemed short of breath.

“I’m so sorry. Beau’s usually very good about staying inside. I didn’t think he’d burst out like that. He must have heard my voice and…” And sensed how nervous I am, she finished silently.

The astonished expression lingering on Tim’s face made her grin in spite of the embarrassing situation. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I think so. Boy, does he have bad breath!” Tim stared at the now-lethargic-looking animal seated at her feet and panting as if it had just chased down and captured a man-eating lion. “What is he?”

“A dog.”

“I’d already figured out that part. What I mean is, what are you doing with an animal the size of an elephant in your little apartment? Does your landlord know?”

“Yes. I’m allowed to have one pet as long as the other neighbors aren’t bothered by any noise. Beau’s so quiet I doubt most of them even know he’s here.”

“Beau?”

“Short for Beauregard. A proper Southern name, don’t you think? Beau was my brother’s dog. After the terrible accident I told you about, Phil didn’t want Mom to have to deal with caring for Beau, too, so he asked me to take him in.”