She raised her beer in return. “Another big account or two would help.” After taking a long swallow, she continued, “But I have to admit spending time in the kitchen wasn’t so bad.”
His gaze traveled over Kamira’s mini jungle of plants that softened the white cabinets and the tan and white–striped walls. Lauren stood framed by the stove and the assortment of pots and pans brimming with the side dishes she’d taken such pleasure in creating, even though she rarely indulged in her old pastime anymore. Her face radiated contentment.
Again, that mysterious smile flickered across her lips.
Was it the mere act of cooking that had brought on that glow, or was she really hiding something?
“So, how’s everything going?” he asked.
“Great. Finalized that deal with the car wash.”
“I didn’t mean with work.”
A soft pink flushed her cheeks. “What makes you ask?”
“I don’t know. There’s something…different about you tonight.” When was the last time he’d seen her blush? He shifted, trying to pinpoint exactly what was different about her.
She busied herself with transferring food into serving dishes. “Did you notice the roses on your way in?”
He glanced through the kitchen’s archway toward the foyer. A bunch of white roses filled a vase on a table near the door. “So, who sent you roses?”
Her eyes brightened and her lips curved into a smile. “Don’t know. Kamira thinks I have a secret admirer.”
“Ah, this wouldn’t have anything to do with that talk we had earlier?” He couldn’t keep the slight annoyance from his voice as he helped her move the dishes to the drop-leaf table.
“No. You think I’d anonymously send myself flowers, just to prove a point to you?”
He laughed, perplexed. “Of course not.” Why was he annoyed? “It’s just a strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
“I’m as surprised as you are.”
“And you have no idea who sent them?”
“No, but I have to admit it’s very flattering. Which brings us back to our earlier conversation. Romancing the woman of your choice is definitely the way to go.”
She cocked her head. “I hadn’t thought about it in exactly these terms, but the whole secret-admirer thing does add a nice touch.”
He made a deliberate effort to relax his jaw. So Lauren had a secret admirer. She’d had a fair number of men in her life, and that had never bothered him before. Wasn’t this what he’d been pestering her about over the past months—encouraging her to find a life outside of work?
She was a phenomenal woman, a flower among thorns. With her golden beauty and welcoming way, she was bound to draw masculine attention. Her allure lay not only in the deep green of her eyes and the generous swell of her hips and breasts—though those were enticement enough—but also in the patience and love she extended to all lucky enough to fall into her life.
Adam had always considered himself fortunate in that respect. Though his parents had never seen their way to spending more than a two-week span in his presence, Lauren had remained steadfast by his side for well over twenty years.
“You need to be careful, though,” he said. “He could be anyone.”
“Don’t go getting all protective on me, Adam. Whoever sent those roses is the sensitive type. I can’t imagine he’d be dangerous.”
“At least he’s not ostentatious in his gift giving. I hate gift buying for its pure material value.”
She turned toward him, her hands planted on her hips. “I never meant it that way.”
Waving his hand in a gesture of peace, he continued, “In this case, the value is on the thought, since the sender remains anonymous.”
“Well, it does build a sense of expectation, which is kind of nice. Of course, we could be making a mountain out of a molehill. This could be an isolated incident.”
Adam appraised her a moment. In the soft light of the kitchen, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes glowing, Lauren was one hell of an attractive woman—a desirable woman.
As he’d done so many times in the past, he stifled the thought. Somehow it just seemed wrong to think of her in that way. She was like a sister to him. She’d surely be horrified to know he harbored a fantasy—or two—about her.
“Somehow, I don’t think so,” he said. “And eventually, he’s going to make himself known. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
A sound of exasperation escaped her. “The point is the anticipation, the thrill, the romance.”
That irrational annoyance rose again in him. “The point is, this guy wants to get you in bed.”
“That’s not fair. You don’t even know him—”
“He’s a guy. What else is there to know?”
“Well, you’re a guy.”
“And you think I’ve never thought of you in that way?”
Her eyes widened. Silence hung over them. Adam gritted his teeth. Why had he blurted that out?
The front door slammed a moment before Kamira breezed into the kitchen, her cat at her heels. “You didn’t tell me you were making your meat loaf.”
“We’re just getting started.” He pulled out a chair for her.
Lauren retrieved another plate from the cabinet. And you think I’ve never thought of you in that way? Adam’s words rang through her mind. Well, he was a guy. She should have expected this…but somehow, it was so…surprising.
She set the plate before Kamira, then sat beside her, purposely avoiding looking at Adam as he took his place on her other side. The weight of his gaze bored down on her.
“I thought you were at the clinic,” she said to Kamira, a nurse at the women’s center.
Kamira heaped large portions of the meal onto her plate. “Mmm. I just dropped off the tile samples. I’ll be happy when this new section is ready. I swear, there’s a baby boom going on. We need the space for all our new patients.”
“The women’s center is expanding?” Adam asked. He hadn’t made a move toward any of the dishes.
“Didn’t Lauren tell you? She’s been volunteering down there. She helped knock down the wall between our offices and the empty space next door. Boy, can she swing a sledgehammer.”
“Patterson, the building’s owner,” Lauren added for Adam’s benefit, though she still refused to look at him, “wanted to give me the first swing, but I had this fear the roof would tumble down on us, so he went first.”
“Ha, but we all got into it after a while.” Kamira smiled.
Keeping her attention on the bowl of whipped potatoes, Lauren bobbed her head. “Very cathartic. I got all my aggression out.”
Kamira’s eyes rounded. “I’ll tell you who else looked good swinging a hammer. Patterson’s son. If that boy was five years older, I’d drop Greg in a heartbeat.”
“Mark?” Lauren chuckled, then stopped. She’d filled half her plate with potatoes. “I think he’s Rusty’s age.”
She smiled, thinking of her younger brother. He’d taken off to work the oil rigs in Texas after graduating from the University of Georgia last year. It’d been harder to let him go than she’d thought, having felt responsible for him for so long.
“Of course, he dropped me a line a while back that he was dating an older woman.