What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)(27)
He parked a couple of yards in front of the porte cochere, but before getting out of the car, he took a second to look up at the house, at its square turrets and ornate trim. But what were all those damn air conditioners doing sticking out of the windows? His eyebrows drew together. They’d probably been there sixteen years ago, but he’d overlooked them then because the other houses on the block hadn’t been converted to central air yet. Now Kinkaid House was the Lone Ranger. Why? It was easy enough to get an old house sealed for AC, if you had the money—and Kinkaids always had money.
He helped Maxie out of the car, took the roses from her, and glanced around the yard. Shit. The place was downright seedy, and it used to be a showplace. With the blazing sunset behind him yesterday evening, he hadn’t noticed that the azaleas had gone scraggly, the hedges needed trimming, and the lawn was browning out in the middle. Probably lack of good help. Everyone knew the Reverend Ed employed a full-time cook-housekeeper, a full-time gardener-handyman, and a part-time maid—an old house like this required a lot of upkeep.
He spotted a Realtor’s sign at the corner of the yard. That was another thing he’d missed seeing yesterday. So, Laurel was serious about selling.
He took Maxie’s arm to help her across the uneven ground. They stepped up onto the porch and he pushed the doorbell.
Chapter Seven
Laurel fixed a gracious smile on her face and walked at measured pace to open the door. A secret delight sang in her veins. For the second day in a row, she’d see Jase Redlander.
He looked just right—nice, but not too formal. The sand-colored slacks and charcoal jacket fit like they’d been tailored for him, which they probably had. She swallowed hard as she noticed that his tieless white shirt, open at the neck, revealed a hint of the dark masculine shadow that had so shocked and fascinated her as a teenager.
Down, girl. He’s your guest, not the main course.
Jase stood on the porch and stared at her for an awkward moment, then abruptly thrust a sheaf of roses at her. “For you.”
Lifting the bouquet up to her face, she inhaled deeply before extending her hand to him. “They’re beautiful. Please come in.”
He stepped across the threshold and reached back to close the door behind himself, but a small woman in blue edged in beside him.
“Miss Harlow, I’m Maxine Hokinson,” she said, holding out her hand.
Laurel quickly changed the roses to her left arm so she could take Jase’s aunt’s hand. “How nice to see you again, Miss Hokinson, but please call me Laurel.”
“And I’m Maxie.”
She’d forgotten how tiny Maxine Hokinson was, maybe five feet at the most—short and scrawny—but her bright blue eyes sparkled with energy. This was a woman who could move mountains, and Lolly bore a striking resemblance to her—watch out, world!
The dining room door opened and Lolly, wrapped in Mama’s frilly white apron, came down the hall toward them. “Dinner is served,” she announced in a mock-unctuous voice.
“Lolly!” Maxie rushed forward to embrace her niece. “We were so worried about you!”
Lolly threw her arms around her. “I’m sorry, Aunt Maxie. Truly I am. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She reached out her hand to her father. “I’m sorry, Dad, but this was something I had to do.”
He joined in the family embrace, but his voice was gruff. “Well, now that you’ve done it, young lady, we can take you home.”
Lolly pulled away from him, her eyes blazing.
Laurel caught her breath. This must be the “yelling” Lolly had complained about. Jase’s comment was tactless, but typically male. Couldn’t Lolly tell the effort it took for her father to control his emotions, how relieved he was that she was safe? Time to intervene. She moved forward with a big smile and held the rose bouquet out to Lolly.
“Honey, I know you and your dad have a lot to discuss, but would you mind taking these lovely flowers to the kitchen and putting them in water for me? The vases are in the upper cupboard next to the pantry.”
Recognizing an out when it was offered, Lolly grabbed at the bouquet. “Sure thing, Laurel. It’ll just take a sec. I have to get the rolls out anyway.” She gave her father a dark look and fled down the hall.
“We’ll be at the table,” Laurel called after her. Then, just as Mama used to, she led the parade into the dining room. Jase held her chair and Maxie’s before taking his seat directly across from her. Maxie was to her left, and Lolly, after setting the rolls on the table and the roses on the buffet, took the remaining chair.
Looking around the table, Laurel was pleased to note that Lolly had done an exemplary job of arranging the serving dishes. Apparently Maxie’s caterers had made a lasting impression on her.
She unfolded her napkin. Daddy always offered up a short grace before a meal, but since she usually ate standing up at the kitchen counter nowadays, she’d gotten lax. Tonight, however, as she placed her napkin in her lap and lifted a fork to signal the meal had begun, a panic raced through her, and she sent up her own desperate supplication.
Please, God, let the food be edible.
Then, with what she hoped was a confident smile on her face, she sampled her fare and relaxed back into her chair. Piggly Wiggly had fulfilled its promise. The candied carrots tasted just like the ones Mrs. January used to make as a special treat, the roast beef lived up to its aroma and was as tender as the package promised, the French-cut green beans were delicious, and the mashed potatoes were smooth and buttery—although it would be hard to mess up mashed potatoes.