Lisette Belisle - The Wedding Bargain

But autumn was all illusion, a time when nature signaled the end of a green growing season with bright gaudy displays of color, a time when life seemed exaggerated and desperate. As each day narrowed, there were clear signs that winter was on its way. It could be beautiful, but brutal, if you were unprepared…if you were alone. And Drew had forfeited every close tie.

Olivia interrupted his downward mood. “Good morning.” She’d come outside bearing gifts—a steaming mug of coffee.

“Morning,” he said, taking her in at a glance. A calf-length green skirt had replaced her tight black jeans—which was a relief. But when she moved, the skirt “swished” and he was lost again, enchanted by her intrinsic femininity. The coffee was strong. He took a bracing swallow.

“Do you need sugar?”

“No.” His voice sounded husky.

She smiled. “That’s just as well. There isn’t any. Apart from that,” she said, as if he had a burning desire to know each domestic detail, “the kitchen’s pretty well stocked. I found some coffee and powdered milk.”

He lifted his cup. “So I see.”

“There are some canned goods. I checked the expiration dates and they’re all safe. I was going to make pancakes for breakfast, but there aren’t any eggs. There is such a thing as powdered eggs, but I suppose that would be expecting too much.” She laughed, her eyes bright and alive. She was so alive. “How do you feel about canned hash or baked beans for breakfast?”

More choices.

Drew took another gulp of coffee. “Hash sounds good.”

“Tuna casserole for lunch?”

He nodded, but didn’t dare ask what went into that besides the tuna. She continued to chatter.

When she ran out of menu items, she started on Drew. “So what do you do—for work, I mean?”

He said dryly, “Let’s just say I’m between jobs at the moment.” Had he actually ever held down a real job, one that wasn’t manufactured for him, one that he cared about?

Olivia chuckled. “Any particular field?”

He shrugged. “Not really.” He had a college degree in forestry gathering dust somewhere, not that it amounted to much. “How about you? What do you do?”

Unconsciously provocative, with the breeze playing with the hem of her skirt, she stared at him with her wide-spaced gray eyes. Her eyelashes were long and lush, fanning her flushed cheeks. “I’m a hooker.”

Drew choked on his coffee, gulping in air when he finally recovered his voice. “What did you say?”

Clearly pleased to have captured his full attention, she repeated, “I’m a hooker. I hook rugs. You know, cut and dyed, originally designed, handcrafted wool rugs?” She laughed at his expression. “I have an art degree, which doesn’t earn much in this part of Maine. I’m not cut out for the starving artist-in-a-garret route, so I had to find something practical to do. I do all kinds of needlecrafts, as well.”

“And that pays the bills?”

“Yes.” A mischievous dimple played around her pursed mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you.” The little witch didn’t look sorry at all; in fact, she looked downright smug.

“You didn’t shock me,” he said, trying not to laugh.

Her gray eyes twinkled. “Oh, yes, I did.”

He considered kissing that sassy mouth, then thought better of it. “You do know that kind of talk could land you in a hell of a lot of trouble in certain circles.”

The fact that she felt safe with him had registered.

She shrugged. “It’s only a joke. Most people think it’s pretty funny.”

His gaze ran over her, every delectable inch. He shook his head, marveling at her innocence. “You’re lucky it was me. Not one of those guys at that diner last night.”

Olivia didn’t feel lucky. In fact, she felt odd, and her pulse had quickened with the sweep of his dark eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, wondering why she was apologizing. Maybe the joke was on her. She’d felt his scorching glance—which only made her more aware of his maleness…and her helpless response.

But at least he was smiling!

Flustered, Olivia looked past him to the surrounding forest. “It’s so beautiful out here. Have you ever seen a tree with leaves that shade of banana gold?” she asked, knowing she sounded like a tourist. “What is it?”

He chuckled. “That’s a birch tree. Where did you live in California?” He leaned against the porch rail, looking at her.

Under that lingering gaze, Olivia felt herself flushing. “I grew up in lots of places before winding up in San Francisco.” She smiled, unaware that it was wistful, remembering the frequent moves and upheavals of her childhood. Her mother was always looking for something better than what she had, something different. Many times, Olivia had felt like the grown-up.

“Do you have family in California?” he asked.

“There’s no one close.” She shook her head.

“Not anymore. How about your family?”

Drew looked away. “They’re scattered around. We don’t stay in touch.” He knew it was the perfect opening. He should tell her about his situation.

Part of him wished she knew about his past, and part of him dreaded her finding out, especially from someone else. He should tell her. When he didn’t add any details, she turned toward the house.

“Well, I should do something about a meal,” she said. And suddenly he wanted to call her back.

But the moment passed.

After breakfast, Drew felt restless, confined. He decided to go for a walk, just because he could.

When informed of his plan, Olivia tilted her head. “That sounds like fun. Mind if I join you?”

Drew hid his irritation. “Sure.” He didn’t know how to stop her—short of locking her in the cabin—or telling her she couldn’t come. And somehow he couldn’t do either.

He grabbed his denim jacket, then waited while she took a jacket from her case. She pulled it on, tugging at the sleeve. The jacket was a tapestry of richly colored floral embroidery.

He recognized her unique touch. “Did you make that?”

She nodded, “Mmm.” Obviously a girl of many talents.

Outside, a breeze caught her hair. Bright leaves fell all around, carpeting the ground in colors of red, gold and russet. The crunch of dry leaves under Drew’s feet felt familiar. As a youth, he’d felt a special affinity for the woods. As he grew older, he’d forgotten that—just one of the things he’d taken for granted and ignored when it was his for the taking. Perhaps in his arrogance, a man could only appreciate the things that were hard-won. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine and woods.

They followed a path down to the crystal-clear lake. With Olivia tagging along, Drew soon realized that a silent communion with nature wasn’t in the cards. She was full of information.

Her chatter irritated him at first; but then the gentle rhythm of feminine tones soothed a loneliness he’d never acknowledged. A deep well that had never been filled. The realization startled him. He’d never thought of a woman as a companion. A soul mate. Perhaps if he had, he might have had better luck finding one.

She sighed, drawing his attention back. She was a feast for the eyes—eyes that had only seen drab concrete walls for so long. Like spun gold, yellow birch leaves fluttered down around her. “I was hoping to see some wildlife,” she said.

He chuckled. “Hush, you’re scaring them all away.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, then turned her toward the water’s edge. “Just wait a few minutes, then you’ll see.”

She leaned back slightly, and Drew caught his breath at the brush of her skirt against his thigh.

As predicted, before long, a doe with her fawn appeared, taking dainty steps out of the woods. They stopped by the water, dipping their heads to drink. Under his hands, Olivia stood absolutely still—until the doe prodded her offspring back up the steep bank and into the woods.