“I’d like to believe that.”
The doorbell rang, and Stephanie glanced at her watch. “That’s Frank. Do you want to talk to him?”
“No. I texted him and Bren I’d be back on duty tomorrow and we could return to our usual schedule. Go. Have fun. Tell him I said hi.”
“Do you have any plans for the evening, other than unwinding after a full travel day?”
“I may drop in on Katherine.”
“Not a bad idea. And in that case, you have fun too.” She crossed to him, rose on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek. “Welcome home.”
“Thanks.”
He waited until she picked up her purse and disappeared through the front door, then headed for the bathroom to freshen up.
Five minutes later, after adding two sodas to the bag of sandwiches, he exited through the back slider and strode toward Katherine’s.
In twelve days, these treks would come to an end—unless she’d decided to turn down the part while he was gone.
Somehow, he didn’t think she had. After their in-depth discussion on the subject, wouldn’t she have texted him if she’d scratched that decision off her list?
He crimped the bag tighter in his fingers as he approached the grove of towering coniferous evergreen trees that separated their properties.
If she was still on the fence, perhaps a romantic beach picnic would remind her of all she’d be giving up should she choose to return to Hollywood . . . and the lifestyle she’d admitted no longer held much appeal.
He couldn’t offer her glamor or excitement or fame or enormous wealth—but if she could be content with a simple life and a man who would always put her first, the two of them ought to see where the spark between them led.
But she had to want that as much as he did—and be willing to live with the possibility it could fizzle.
From her perspective, with all she had at stake, that would be very scary.
Frowning, he emerged from the woods and slowed his pace as he approached her house.
If she gave up her Hollywood career and the spark between them petered out, her life would be far more disrupted than his. He’d still have his home, his job, his routine, his friends. She’d have to start from scratch.
As he knew all too well, that was an intimidating prospect.
So trying to persuade her to take that leap, to give them a chance, if she wasn’t prepared for all the possible consequences would be selfish—and unfair. He’d have to get a read on her state of mind tonight before launching a campaign to convince her to stay.
And pray he had the strength to follow the honorable course if this visit didn’t go as he hoped it would.
24
Zach was back?
A day early?
Why?
Pulse leaping, Katherine vaulted to her feet as he emerged from the woods. Shading her eyes against the dipping sun, she squinted at him.
He didn’t look upset.
That was reassuring.
When he drew close, she crossed the deck to meet him at the top of the stairs. “I didn’t expect you back this soon. Is your dad okay?”
“Yes. He’s doing well. So well there was no excuse for me to hang around.”
“Did he . . . send you away?” If there was more diplomatic phrasing for that question, it eluded her.
“No—not in the sense you mean.” He lifted the bag. “Pastrami sandwiches from my favorite deli in Atlanta, packed in dry ice for my trip home. If you’ll join me for an impromptu dinner on the beach, I’ll tell you the whole story.”
“Is that a bribe?”
“Only if it worked.”
“It worked. Let me grab a sweater.” She retreated to the house, plucked her sweater off the great room couch, detoured to the kitchen for a few truffles from her latest batch, and rejoined him. “All set—with dessert in hand.” She waved the plastic bag at him. “Shall I bring water too?”
“I’ve got the drinks covered.”
“A man who thinks of everything.” She draped the sweater around her shoulders and started toward the steps—but he caught her hand as she passed.
She turned—and her lungs stalled.
There was no missing the heat in his eyes . . . nor the silent message they were sending, even before he spoke.
“I wouldn’t say that. But I did think of you while I was gone. Constantly.” His voice hoarsened. “I missed you, Katherine.”
He didn’t ask if the reverse was true, but the question hung in the air between them.
The honest answer was yes.
Yet with Stephanie’s warning echoing in her mind . . . and her own situation unresolved . . . it wasn’t fair to build expectations.
“I thought of you too.”
Also honest—but not what he’d wanted to hear. Though he masked it quickly, the flash of disappointment in those brown irises was telling.
“Nice to know.” He released her hand and motioned toward the steps. “After you.”
He followed as she descended and took the lead down the narrow path that led to the main trail. There, he fell in beside her.
“Are you certain you don’t want to share your bounty with your aunt?” She indicated the bag he was holding.
“No. I had you in mind when I bought these. Besides, Frank picked her up not long after I got home. They were going to Hope House, then to Charley’s for tacos.”
“She went to Shore Acres State Park with him yesterday.”
“Yeah?”
Katherine cringed. “Whoops. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. But she mentioned it to me while we were at Hope House on Sunday. I didn’t think it was a secret.”
“It’s not. Neither is their date tonight. She also told me she’s decided to stay in Hope Harbor for a while. Much as she likes the town and our fabulous scenery, I don’t think that’s why she’s considering a permanent change of address.” He stopped and motioned for her to continue, past a blackberry bush that was encroaching on the path.
“I’m happy for her.” Too bad she couldn’t be as definitive about what she wanted. “And I envy her having that decision behind her.”
“Does that mean you’re still thinking about the movie?”
“Yes. There’s been a new development—but I want to hear about you and your dad first.”
“Couldn’t we flip a coin to see who goes first?”
“Nope. You promised me an update while we ate. My news can wait until dessert.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You sound like Simon.”
“I don’t think I like that comparison. Has he been bugging you again?”
“You could say that. But let’s stick with more pleasant subjects while we walk down. Tell me about these sandwiches you carried thousands of miles, and why they’re special.”
She listened to his stories about Fetterman’s Deli and the happy hours he’d spent there with friends as a teen, until at last they emerged from the brambles and stepped onto the beach.
“Our table awaits.” He indicated the log. “Or in this case, a seat with a view. Let’s use it as a backrest tonight. It will be easier than trying to juggle everything on a rounded surface.”