She glanced around. Did they not clap for people’s performances around here?
When the waitress left again, Adrian settled his chair closer in and drew her attention to him. “So?”
Goldie chewed her lip. Right. Their deal.
“My whole life it’s only been my parents and me. I never had cousins. No living grandparents. No other family. I always thought we were it, the only Bybankses around. But then, at the beginning of the month, I received this letter. Who sends letters anymore, right?”
“Sure,” Adrian said, giving her his full attention.
The waitress delivered their salads, and Goldie thanked her before continuing, leaving her Cobb salad with ranch dressing untouched.
“This letter was from Bethany Harold. Harold was my mother’s maiden name. She claimed she was my mom’s sister. She—well, look.”
Goldie unzipped her purse and pulled out the correspondence. She handed it to Adrian as he took a bite of salad.
He finished chewing and took it, his eyes scanning its contents. She knew the letter by heart by now.
Your mom insisted I stay out of your life and for good reason. I agreed to it long ago, but it’s time. You’re an adult, and if I don’t do it now, I’ll always regret it. I’d love to meet you. To explain in person.
Jacey won’t be too happy about me contacting you like this, but far away as I am, I would love to meet you. If you feel in your heart you could make the trip, would you consider coming here to Two Pines? I’d be happy to provide a place for you to stay. It would mean a lot for me to get to know you, as I never had any children to call my own.
Email might be best. If you’re interested, please let me know.
Love, Aunt Bethany
Adrian’s forehead crinkled. He passed the letter back to her. “But she hasn’t responded to you?”
“No, she hasn’t. I emailed her almost immediately.”
“Was your mother really that bothered?” he asked. “That she contacted you?”
Goldie took a bite of her salad. “Yeah. We had the juiciest argument we’ve had in a long while.”
“Why?” he asked. “Why wouldn’t she want you to meet your aunt? Why did she lie to you about her existence? A lie of omission, I guess, if it was something she just kept from you, but still, a lie.”
“I don’t know,” Goldie said. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I drove out here in spite of my terrible sense of direction, and why I did it without even having heard back from her. I had to know.”
“You mean she didn’t email you back before you left?”
“She did. She replied to the first email I sent saying I was always welcome. I sent her another to let her know I was leaving, and—nothing.”
“Strange,” Adrian said. “Do you know anything about her? What she does for work?”
Goldie shook her head. “No, and my mother would be annoyingly superior if I called to admit as much to her. She’s already giving me the silent treatment. I haven’t heard from her since I left.” Not since the call informing her she was coming over to burn the letter. She was probably angry that Goldie hadn’t been there when she’d arrived.
“And I thought things with my dad were bad,” Adrian muttered. He seemed to think better of what he said. He reached beside him to press her hand. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very sympathetic of me. I don’t mean to insult your mom.”
The soloist sang softly about being so in love as Goldie slipped out of Adrian’s grasp. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t.”
“You don’t like me touching you, do you?”
Goldie shrugged. She couldn’t say she’d minded when he’d held her hand earlier. If she were being honest, she was tempted to give in again. “It isn’t that.”
“What is it, then?” He took another bite of salad.
She stared down at her lap. How could she say this? The way they were acting was how people who actually knew one another—who actually cared for one another—acted. The notion that this romantic façade between them would last forever was ridiculous, and she couldn’t bring herself to behave like it would. Like he seemed to want her to.
“I don’t want to get too carried away. I’m already getting a free room from you even though I should be paying for it. I’m playing a part with you that still makes me question everything about it. I just—I never meant to impose so much into your life when I spent the night at your family’s cabin. With you being so generous, I just don’t want to take any kind of advantage.”
He nodded. “I can understand that. But if I’m the one initiating things, you aren’t taking advantage by accepting them.”
He’d said as much, but she still couldn’t fight the feeling nagging at her. “But I feel like I am.”
“Why?”
Did he want the truth? Whether he did or not, he was going to get it. She exhaled. “Because I just met you? Because I have no way to return the favor, unless you like baked goods. Take your pick.”
“Baked goods?”
She shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “I like to bake. I thought I could make something in exchange for room and board. I know it won’t be enough, not by a long shot, but at least it would be something.”
This amused him. “Fair enough,” he said. “I won’t touch you again, not unless you initiate the contact. Contrary to what you might think, I’m no saint, Goldie, but I do appreciate the chance to help you.”
“Why?” she asked. Before yesterday he didn’t know she existed. Why would he possibly care about helping her as much as he had?
He swallowed, displaying the tiniest bit of hesitation that made something in her stomach flutter. He’d been straightforward enough with his questions. She was only dishing it right back at him.
He lifted his chin to look directly at her. The edges of the veranda blurred. The soft acoustic guitar thinned, slipping deeper into the background. Goldie wasn’t aware of anything but Adrian’s soulful eyes and her own pulse.
“There’s just something about you, I guess.”
He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t expound on past experiences, helping people in need, or specify exactly what that something was, but in that moment it hooked straight into her as well.
Something.
Something about him. Maybe it was the brilliance of him beneath the stars. Maybe it was the bullseye of his attention on her or the way his leg brushed against hers beneath the table. Maybe it was the effect he was beginning to have over her, the way her mouth went dry, or the way her palms became clammy.
Whatever it was, she could tell Adrian Bear was becoming more to her than she ever expected him to be.
CHAPTER Fourteen
GOLDIE DIDN’T GET THE CHANCE to reply to his inquisitive, vulnerable gaze before the cowboy crooning sweet love songs finished another ballad. Again, she lifted her hands to applaud him only to be met by silence.
“Why isn’t anyone clapping for him?” she mused, deciding to be the rebel. She slapped her palms together in painstaking obviousness. Of course, her clapping was going to be noticeable. Adrian tapped his fork to his lips before setting down his utensils and joining in.