Cream of the Crop (Hudson Valley, #2)(54)
“No worries; what happened? Your texts were strange, to say the least. Something about wedding velvet?”
“Kind of. If I didn’t think saying the phrase there was a cake emergency sounded as ridiculous as I think it does, I’d tell you about how my afternoon went.”
“There was an actual cake emergency?”
She nodded. “Mr. and Mrs. Oleson’s fiftieth wedding anniversary. She always bakes for him—has baked for him each anniversary for the other forty-nine. But this afternoon her oven quit on her and she needed a red velvet cake like they had on their wedding day. What was I going to do?”
“You’re a good egg, Roxie. You’re also dripping, by the way.”
She looked down at the puddle that was forming and headed into her bedroom. “Come in, I just need to dry my hair and I’ll be ready to hit the town!”
“I feel like if we actually hit the town, Bailey Falls may never recover.” I snorted, taking a running leap at her bed, displacing pillows right and left.
Roxie slipped into a robe and started combing out her hair. “Your skin looks fantastic. I think it’s the mountain air. Or maybe the amazing water. Or it could be the altitude.”
“Yeah?” I preened, smoothing my fingers over my cheeks. “That’s funny, Olga told me the same thing the other day.”
“Who’s Olga?”
“Esthetician. She’s been sucking my pores for the last five years and she said there was, and this is a direct quote, a sixty-six percent reduction in the amount of schmutz in my pores.”
“Schmutz?”
“Gunk, goo, toxins, pollution—you know, schmutz.”
“So this is a good thing.”
“This is a great thing.” I nodded, sucking in my cheeks and admiring my face in the mirror over her dresser. Then I looked back over my shoulder. “There’s a great view of the bed in this mirror. Please tell me Leo and you watch yourselves having sex.”
“I won’t tell you that.”
“That’s not a denial, Callahan,” I teased, enjoying the way she conveniently covered her face with her hair and began brushing it.
Her voice, however, wasn’t covered at all. “Speaking of boning, maybe it’s not just the country air that’s making you glow. Care to share?”
“Orgasms are great for the complexion, that is true.” I sighed, sinking back into the pillows and holding one like a teddy bear.
She laughed, plopping down onto the edge of the bed. “I assume that means that you’re enjoying getting to know Oscar in the biblical sense?”
“Honey, there is nothing biblical about what we’re doing. Trust me,” I said, fanning myself with my hand. Heat was rising to my cheeks from anticipation. When I first found out we were heading into town tonight, I was trying to remain cautiously optimistic. I didn’t want to presume that we’d be getting together every time I was in town. And by “didn’t want to presume,” I mean that was a lie that I couldn’t even sell to myself.
I wanted to presume, dammit! I wanted to spend whatever time with him that I could. Biblically or otherwise.
“Hey? You with me?” Roxie asked, waving her hand in front of my face.
I laughed. “Sorry, my mind was with a certain dairy farmer.”
“I asked how things are going? You seem to be enjoying the Bailey Falls experience.”
I was. I couldn’t fully admit it to myself, but I was totally drinking the Kool-Aid. Not yet willing to admit how much I was guzzling, I said, “I’m exhausted from today. Your boys wore me out.”
“I spoke to Chad earlier. He told me you guys went to The Tube. It’s incredible there, isn’t it?”
I rolled over, full-blown dreamy sighing.
Like a shark smelling blood, Roxie started circling. “Oh, and Bryant Mountain House?” She flipped her hair back up. “We’ll have to make spa appointments there soon. Wait until you see it. Incredible.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured, dreamily thinking about the day.
“You know, we could even take a few day trips down to Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow. Especially the cemetery, it’s awesome.”
“I love a cemetery,” I echoed, mind elsewhere.
“That’s what’s so great about living here. We’re driving distance or train accessible from everything. Great for families . . . very little crime . . .”
“It’s a good town, Rox.”
“It is, isn’t it.” She beamed, bouncing happily on the mattress.
“And once my campaign starts running, people will be swarming this place to feel a little of the Bailey Falls Magic.”
“Who knows? Maybe if they fall enough under its spell, they won’t want to leave . . .” She let the thought float out there while she stood and continued getting ready.
In a fog, I rose and headed into my room. It was a magic fog that was singing all the praises of the town and its inhabitants.
One in particular.
Never a big fan of lying to oneself, I put Oscar and whatever this was between us on the top of the “pros” list for Bailey Falls. I didn’t know what would come of the relationship once the campaign was finished. When I went back to the city, would he visit more than just the weekends? Would I? Did he want me to do that? Did he want me, beyond the occasional weekend? There was something about being wanted. I’d never wanted to go beyond the confines of my island . . . for anything or anyone. Now, maybe. Possibly.