Pelican Court (Cedar Cove #3)(45)

Jon must have heard Maryellen approach, because he lowered his camera and turned to face her. For a long moment he didn’t say anything as he stared at the drastic change in her appearance. Self-consciously, Maryellen lifted her hand to her hair.

“What do you think?” She wanted to kick herself for asking.

He walked closer, studying her, while she stood rooted to the spot.

He cleared his throat as if searching for something to say that wouldn’t hurt her feelings. “It…takes some getting used to.”

“You don’t like it?” It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t. She’d cut her hair on a whim, for herself and no one else. Jon’s opinion, no matter what it was, held no weight. And yet…it did. He clearly didn’t like the change and Maryellen was crushed.

To cover her disappointment, she reached for Katie, who was bundled up in a thick fleece outfit. Her daughter kicked her legs ecstatically as Maryellen freed her from the carrier.

As soon as Maryellen held the infant in her arms, Jon raised the camera once more. “Come on,” he urged, “give me a smile.”

Maryellen tried, but she wasn’t in the mood.

He took two or three pictures. “Again,” he insisted.

Katie was certainly a willing subject. Smiling and gurgling, she flailed her arms about from the crook of Maryellen’s arm.

“Oh, sure,” Jon said, briefly lowering the camera. “Now you’re happy. Laugh away, young lady.”

Despite her mood, Maryellen grinned. “Did Katie keep you up last night?”

“I don’t think I got more than a few hours’ sleep.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Katie was in a foul mood. Nothing satisfied her. I spent most of the night sitting in the rocking chair with her.”

“I think she might be teething.” Maryellen, too, had spent many nights dozing in an upright position. Needless to say, the next workday always ended up being hectic. In an odd way, it comforted her to know that Jon was experiencing the same troubles she did.

Out of habit, Maryellen raised her hand to flip her hair to one side, but it was too short now to toss off her shoulder.

Jon took picture after picture while she stood there.

“Come inside and I’ll make us a cup of coffee,” he said when he’d finished. She wondered if he’d abandoned his art photography in favor of snapping pictures of Katie. Pictures of their daughter were all she’d seen of his work lately. Of course, he was under contract with the Seattle gallery, and she didn’t know whether he’d submitted anything in the last couple of months. She did know his work continued to sell well and she was pleased for him.

Jon paused when she didn’t immediately follow him into the house for coffee. “Do you have time?” he asked.

Since their bout of kissing, Maryellen had managed to avoid spending time alone with Jon. He hadn’t pressured her or questioned her reasons. “I…can’t stay,” she said.

No argument came. It was almost as if he’d expected her to decline.

“I’ll get Katie’s things for you,” he said.

Unsure what prompted her, Maryellen walked inside with him. “How’s everything going at The Lighthouse?” she asked, making casual conversation. She found the success of Seth and Justine’s restaurant particularly gratifying, knowing Jon was employed as head chef. People raved about his innovative dishes. He was a talented, complex man.

Jon gathered up Katie’s favorite blanket and stuffed it into her diaper bag. He found a toy rattle, which he also stuck in the bag.

“I heard it’s impossible to get a reservation for the weekends.”

He shrugged, then looked up, his dark gaze probing hers. “Do you need one?”

“No, no,” she said, not understanding the change in his mood.

“No Saturday-night date?” he pried.

Maryellen laughed. “Hardly.”

“You didn’t get your hair styled to impress me, now did you?”

“I did it for me, Jon.”

His muscles relaxed as he slipped the strap of the diaper bag over his shoulder and gave her a brief smile. She was sure, for a moment, that he wanted to kiss her. “That’s comforting to hear,” he muttered.

His concern—was it jealousy?—was so endearing, she had to resist touching him. In an effort to hide her attraction, she said, “The girls at the nail shop said how wonderful the food at The Lighthouse is.” Terri had recently dined at the restaurant. Rachel, too.

“Thank them for me,” he said in an offhand manner, as if compliments embarrassed him.

“They asked me if I knew where you got your training. I don’t believe you ever mentioned it.” Terri had, in fact, asked her that, and Maryellen took advantage of her friend’s interest to ask a question she herself had wondered about.

“You’re right, I didn’t.” His response was blunt. Clearly he didn’t welcome any further inquiries.

“But you must have been formally trained to—”

“I wasn’t.” He glanced pointedly at his watch. “I need to get ready for work.”

Maryellen was stunned. Every previous time she’d been to Jon’s place, he’d practically thrown himself in front of her car to detain her. Now it seemed he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough.