“Well, I think you’re brilliant. Just look at all you’ve accomplished. Starting your own business, creating your recipes, and being successful without any help from anyone.”
“Thanks, I think.” She stood and took her near-empty plate to the sink.
Cruz stood as well and followed her. She set the plate down and turned to face him, pressing her back into the counter. “You think?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “You think I should’ve left the valley, gone to law school, run some huge company, or been a politician. It seems in your mind I can’t be fulfilling my destiny by staying here and running my little shop.”
“I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth. I’m just saying what I imagined you’d do.” He was trying to say she could do anything and be anything. He wasn’t disappointed in what she’d chosen to do, and hadn’t he just complimented her on all she’d accomplished and how successful she was?
“Why wasn’t Mystical Lake ever enough for you?” She folded her arms across her chest and stared up at him, begging him to share with her.
Cruz stepped back, suddenly not ready to discuss. “I couldn’t build my name and my career here,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t probe deeper.
She nodded and said quietly, “Plus, there was nothing holding you here.”
His eyes widened as he wondered what she meant. Had she wanted to hold him here? If he’d had any clue she was interested, he would’ve stayed to see what could’ve happened between them. Yet, would he really? He probably would’ve begged her to come with him, or if that had failed, told her he’d be back for her. His dreams and hopes of success had driven him, but his mother had been his shove out of the valley. He’d felt bad deserting his dad to that nag, especially after Cat had gone to college, but he had to escape.
“I mean …” She glanced down and her long eyelashes feathered across the top of her cheek. “Once Hope left for college, there was nothing holding you here.”
“Hope?” Now he was completely confused. What did Hope have to do with this conversation?
“Yeah. Your girlfriend, Hope.” She gave him a look as if he were dense.
“Hope and I dated off and on, but it was never serious. At least not to me.”
“Hmm.” She brushed by him and picked up the serving containers.
Cruz followed to help her, frustrated and uncertain what to say. He’d thought they would flirt the night away, and by sunset, he’d have her firmly in his arms. Why didn’t Meredith react to him like any other woman would? Did he really have a chance with her, or was she every bit as smart as he’d always known she was? Did she know that Cruz Chadwick hadn’t been anything but a fraud in high school, and even with all his success and accomplishments now, he wasn’t anywhere near enough for her now?
He was frustrated and didn’t know what to do next. There was little time to convince her he was worth the risk. He needed to either brainstorm and fake it until he made it, or he needed to give up. In his heart, he felt like Meredith was the only option for him. How could he convince her of that?
Chapter Five
Meredith was so stirred up and frustrated by Cruz. By the time he finally went outside to set up his sleeping stuff, she had no idea what to think about him but knew the two of them had no chance. He hadn’t questioned her about what Josh had told her about him being a player like she thought he would, which made her think he must be one and couldn’t defend himself. In her mind, everything he said confirmed it. He gave Meredith empty compliments and looked at her as if she’d fling herself into his arms like every other woman did. Had he expected she’d invite him to stay the night in her bed? Probably. He was probably just as bad of a charming player as Josh had told her.
Cruz also claimed he and Hope weren’t serious in high school, at least not to him. Poor Hope. She probably loved Cruz as desperately as Meredith did, but neither of them stood a chance of securing his heart, not for the long haul. Oh, sure, he’d probably hug and kiss her and who knew what else if she wanted, but then he’d be gone, moving on to different women and crazier tricks on the water or the snow.
They’d eaten dinner later, about seven-thirty, and then cleaned everything up together. After dinner, he asked what she’d like to do, and she suggested Gin Rummy. So, they played cards, like two old people. She enjoyed it despite her angst. No matter the situation, Cruz made everything fun, but she worried he’d think she was more boring than ever.
Now it was only nine, barely dark this August evening, and he was already camping outside her bedroom window. He’d disabled the automatic lights, so if someone crept around, they wouldn’t be scared away, and he could catch them.
She felt guilty for taking Cruz away from Cat and his dad when she didn’t know what to do with him. She was confused and stirred up by being around him. Every flirtatious glance and phrase he tossed her way only seemed to confirm to her that he was indeed a vicious player—the type who had to have every woman fall for them and then would dump them and move on. It broke her to think that she was nothing special to him, but what did she expect? If only she could tell her heart not to fall in love with the player. Sadly, it was too late.
There was a soft rap on her side door. Meredith took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and moved that direction. At least Cruz wasn’t bursting in like he owned the place. She opened the door, and her jaw fell open. “What are you wearing?” she cried out, tempted to slam the door in his face.
Cruz gave her his irresistible smile. “Not much.”
“Oh, my,” she breathed out, putting a hand over her heart. He was wearing a pair of comfortable-looking shorts and that was it. Oh, my! Her eyes traveled over his defined chest and abdomen of their own accord. His body was tall and strong and incredible. She’d seen his bare chest yesterday at the lake, but they hadn’t been alone, and she hadn’t allowed herself to focus completely on his beauty.
She leaned into the door frame and repeated, “Oh, my.”
He just grinned.
“Where is your shirt?” she managed to ask in a breathy voice that humiliated her. “You’re going to … get eaten alive by mosquitos for heaven’s sake.”
“I don’t like to wear a shirt to sleep.” He winked. “Too many days spent in a swimsuit has made me really comfortable in only shorts.” He held up a small bag of mosquito repellant wipes. “That’s why I need your help to rub one of these all over my back. It’s too hard for me to reach.” He studied her and then put what he may have thought was a steadying hand on her arm. “Is that okay?”
“Oh, my,” Meredith murmured, feeling unsteady from his touch and dizzy from gawking at his superb chest. She was almost thirty years old and so pathetically uneducated about men. Her dad was the pastor for crying out loud, and though she’d dated her fair share, and even gone on dates swimming or boating, men didn’t usually walk around without shirts on. Plus, she’d rarely seen a man that looked this incredible. “Is this because of your job?” she asked faintly.
“This?” He gave her an appealing and too-confident look. He gestured to himself. “Oh, you mean all these impressive muscles?” He flexed his chest, and she blinked, stunned. “I have to be in tiptop shape to throw the tricks I do.”