Spicing Things Up Page 6

  When she pulled behind her shop, Tyne’s Jeep was already gone. He had to work the early shift every Monday. She wondered how he managed to stay up late and get up early, but it didn’t seem to faze him.

  Business was usually slow on Mondays. She often worked on new projects between customers, but the weather was beautiful and the leaves had reached their full glory. People crowded into her shop, and she sold more stained glass than usual. She even got a specialty order to finish during the slow season. By the time she turned the sign to CLOSED at five thirty, the shop looked a little empty. Her parents were attending a lecture tonight, so they’d eaten earlier than usual, leaving her on her own. She went to the workroom to finish a few small projects she’d started last week.

  When she finished the third stained-glass fan to hang in windows, she heard the back door open. Tyne must be home. She looked up to see him standing in the workroom’s doorway, grinning at her. “Still here?”

  She glanced at the wall clock, surprised to see that it was almost seven. “I sold out of more inventory than usual. I thought I’d try to make a few more.”

  Tyne looked scruffier than usual today, his hair spiky, his whiskers longer. He wore low jeans and a long-sleeved, thermal T-shirt. Jeez. They only made him sexier. Not that she cared. She didn’t. Her parents had told her often that lust was a sad substitute for love. Tyne glanced around the room. “Have you had anything to eat? I’m going for pizza. Not in the mood to cook tonight. Wanna come to keep me company?”

  She doubted he needed that. Some woman would be glad to share his table, to flirt and laugh with him. But maybe he wanted a chaperone, so that he didn’t have to bother with that tonight. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized she was hungry. At home, the cupboards were bare. She bit her bottom lip, tempted, but then shook her head. “I can’t. I left my cat alone last night. I don’t want to neglect him two nights in a row.”

  Tyne’s brown eyes lit up. “You have a cat?”

  Oh, nuts! “You like cats?”

  “Love ’em.”

  “He’s a stray. I just got him. A kitten.”

  “A kitten? Even better.” Tyne motioned for her to wrap things up. “Come on. I’ll stop and get the pizza and bring it to your place.”

  “My parents don’t like the kind I do. Don’t worry about it.”

  “What do you usually order?”

  She hesitated. Now he’d know how low-class she really was. “The meat lovers’ special.”

  “Great! We can share. I’ll get a chicken club pizza, too. I like both of them.”

  She stared. “How much pizza do you eat?”

  He grinned, and she braced herself. What would come out of his mouth this time? “I have a healthy appetite,” he told her.

  He would, wouldn’t he? She thought of something else. “My refrigerator’s empty. No beer. No soda. Only water.”

  He shook his head. “I need to drag you to the store again. No worries. I’ll bring a bottle of wine.”

  “But . . .”

  He waved away her concerns. “Hurry it up. I’m hungry.”

  She doubted it would make any difference if she argued. She grabbed her jacket and purse and locked up when they left the building.

  “See you soon,” he said, hopped in his Jeep, and sped away.

  It would take a while for them to make the pizzas. She stopped at Art’s Groceries to grab some milk, cereal, and bread. On the drive home, she thought about how hard it was to sidestep Tyne. For her entire life, men had considered her unapproachable. She usually withdrew when they advanced, and then they stopped. But Tyne didn’t. He just kept coming. Yet he didn’t scare her away. How did he do that?

  She scurried around inside the cabin to pick up newspapers she’d tossed on the floor and the towel she’d draped over the bathtub, doing a quick job of straightening up. Shadow loved it. Thought it was a game. He raced from room to room with her. By the time Tyne parked in the drive, the house was less cluttered.

  She went to hold the door for him. He carried in two boxes of pizzas and a bottle of wine. When Shadow tried to dart past him to get outside, Tyne pushed the wine under his arm and scooped him up. “Are you allowed outside?” he asked.

  He handed Shadow to Daphne, who hugged him close and stroked his chin. “My back yard has a picket fence. It’s high enough to keep him in right now. I hope by the time he’s older, he’ll be trained to stay inside it.”

  Tyne headed to the kitchen and deposited his goodies on the wooden table. “I don’t know. Shadow looks like the naughty type to me.” He opened one of the boxes and reached for a slice of chicken club pizza. He’d finished it before she found paper plates for them. Then he rummaged in a kitchen drawer until he found the wine opener to remove the cork.

  She handed him two water glasses. “Sorry, I don’t have any flutes or crystal.”

  “What does it matter?” He poured them each some red wine, then reached for more pizza. When Shadow dug his claws into his jeans to climb his leg, Tyne offered him a piece of bacon. The kitten wolfed it down.

  “You’re going to teach him bad habits.” But she smiled.

  “Who can resist bacon?” Tyne held out a tiny piece of chicken next.

  The kitten liked that, too. Daphne shook her head. She opened the meat lovers’ box and snorted. “This might make the kitten crazy.”

  They ate and drank in companionable silence, feeding the kitten whenever he begged. If her mother saw this, she’d die of apoplexy. Daphne was surprised when she took the last slice of the chicken club and refilled her glass with the last of the wine. “I’ll share,” she said. “Want half?”

  “It’s yours. I can’t eat another bite.” Tyne walked into the living room and sprawled out on the wooden floor. He tugged at the string for his hood until he removed it. Then he squiggled it around on the floor for the cat.

  Shadow leapt on it and chased it. He crouched, ready to attack again. Tyne wiggled it up the leg of the coffee table, like a caterpillar climbing a stalk, and Shadow leapt onto the table to catch it. Tyne played with the cat for a good twenty minutes, then he gently lifted him and laid him across his long arm. Shadow yawned and stretched.

  “I think I’ve worn him out.” Tyne’s expression went soft, and Daphne had a hard time dragging her gaze away from him. “He shouldn’t pounce on you tonight.”

  She grew serious. “I can’t believe someone tossed him out of a car and left him to cope on his own.”

  “He wouldn’t have survived,” Tyne said. “The odds are against him. If the road didn’t get him, an owl or coyote would have.”

  She shivered and reached for Shadow, and Tyne pushed to his feet.

  “It’s getting late. You have a great cat. Have fun together.”

  “Thanks for a free supper.”

  His grin returned. “Food doesn’t just fuel us, it inspires us. You need to go to the store more often.”

  Daphne watched him walk out the door and drive away. She cradled Shadow closer, but suddenly the house felt too quiet. Too empty.

  Chapter 11

  A tour bus was parked in the overflow lot for Mill Pond’s shops. Daphne bit her bottom lip when she drove past it. She glanced down the street to Ralph’s diner. Full. So was Bob and Bertha’s coffee and donut shop. Nuts, she’d meant to dash in there to grab a cinnamon roll for lunch. The line would be too long. She should have packed a sandwich, but she’d forgotten to buy deli meat at the store, and she was out of peanut butter. It looked like this was going to be another long, busy day.

  Once in her shop, she went to her workroom and carried every piece of inventory out to hang. She placed the clocks with their stained-glass faces on the brick wall. She’d had four-foot walls, built out of trellis material, installed up and down as rows on both sides of the shop, leaving a wide center aisle. She hung the fan-shaped pieces and window hangings on those. The bigger pieces hung in the front windows.

  Then she turned the sign in her door to OPEN, and people started coming in. Sh
e wondered how long the tour would stay in town before it moved on to the national park. Usually, the bus stopped at Mill Pond for breakfast, gave the people a few hours to shop, and then took them to the rustic lodge near the small lake in the forest. People tended to shy away from buying glass pieces to store on the bus, afraid they might break before they got home, so she didn’t expect lots of sales, mostly window shoppers.

  She thought wrong.

  “The brochure told us to bring plenty of Bubble Wrap in case we found something we really loved,” one of the women told her. She smiled. “We brought lots of it.”

  That woman and her friend each bought an eighteen-by-twenty-four-inch window hanging. “That’s why we chose this tour,” her friend told Daphne. “We’ve heard about Mill Pond’s artisans and came prepared. We’re going to the jewelry store next. The brochure said the owner lets you choose your gem and then fixes it in the band of your choice. He makes one-of-a-kind products, like you do.”

  Daphne wished whoever had printed the brochure had warned her ahead of time. Before the tour bus pulled away, she would worry that she might run out of stock by the end of the year. Business during the peak months had been brisk this year, but she hadn’t worried about replenishing items, because the pace of customers usually slowed down once school started. But it hadn’t. Fall was staying busy. People were placing more specialty orders than usual, too. She was going to be busy during the slow season. Maybe a good thing. She wouldn’t have time to feel sorry for herself.

  In winter months, owners typically opened their shops only on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Even then, there usually weren’t many visitors. So Daphne would spend most of her time in her workroom, producing pieces for the upcoming year, she imagined. At home, Monday through Wednesday, she would work on sewing projects—her quilts and wall hangings.

  “You should sell those, too,” Tyne often told her. She was beginning to think about it.

  “The problem is room,” she’d argued once. “I don’t have the space to display anything else.”

  But when she said that, he’d grinned, and she knew he was one step ahead of her. “I’ve talked to Ian. He’d love to hang them in the inn’s lobby, and you could put your name and price on them. Tessa said she’d hang them in her bakery, too.”

  Not a bad idea. She might take Tyne up on it. If she did, she’d have even more to keep her busy when the weather turned bad.

  She thought when the bus left, business would slow down, but customers came and went all day. She only had time to munch on crackers in her workroom during a brief lull. Betty’s daughter-in-law, Leesa, who manned the shop on Saturdays so that Daphne could sew, told Daphne she’d been extra busy, too. The town mostly closed down on Sundays. Even Chase’s bar shut its doors. Daphne didn’t know how Ian did it, staying open seven days a week. She needed the time off.

  Most nights, after she was done for the day, she drove to her parents’ house for supper, but during the rush that morning, she’d called Mom to tell her she couldn’t make it. “I’ll need to stay later than usual to rearrange the shop, move things around, so that there aren’t so many bare spots.”

  She’d started on that when Tyne called. “I peeked in today, and you were swamped. Bet you didn’t eat. If you come to the inn, I’ll feed you in the kitchen.”

  To the inn? She’d never been inside it. Betty would be gone by now. She wasn’t close to anyone else who worked there. She hesitated. “Is that allowed?”

  She could picture a security guard escorting her from the kitchen. She’d die of embarrassment.

  “No worries,” Tyne assured her. “Ian thought if you checked us out, you might find a spot to hang your stuff.”

  She sighed. Too much pressure. “I can’t. I usually eat supper with my parents.”

  “Usually? Are you eating with them tonight?”

  “Well, no, but I don’t want them to think I cancelled on them to eat supper with you.”

  He laughed. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”

  “This is Mill Pond. They’ll hear.”

  “Tell them it was a business dinner. Besides, they see enough of you. I’ll dish you up a plate. See you at six.”

  The phone went dead. He’d done it again. Hung up on her. That didn’t mean she had to go. She hadn’t said yes. But she’d always wondered about the inn. What did it look like? How had Ian converted it? He’d bought two stained-glass windows from her to hang in its dining room. Did they look good there?

  She decided to go. What could it hurt? And she’d get free food. She glanced at her watch and moved even faster. By the time she needed to leave, the shop looked presentable again. People might not notice that the inventory was skimpier than usual.

  She drove down Main Street to Lake Drive and circled the shoreline to Lakeview Stables. She’d been amazed when Ian installed a golf course and tennis courts on the property. The inn sat back from the road, and she couldn’t help but admire its fieldstone facade, red-tin roof, and red double doors. It looked warm and inviting. Enough cars were parked in its lot to let Daphne know that plenty of guests were housed here.

  She found an empty parking spot and took a minute to enjoy the view. The water was too cold for swimming, but the lake sprawled at the back of the property, deep blue and serene. Her cabin had the national forest as its backdrop, with nature only a few steps away. She wondered if looking at a lake would be even better, then shrugged. For her, it was pretty much of a toss-up. She walked to the entrance doors and stepped into the lobby.

  A high, beamed ceiling soared above. Two antler chandeliers dangled overhead, adding to the inn’s rustic charm. Maple floors stretched to the check-in desk, and leather sofas invited guests to linger. A woman with gray hair and glasses looked up at her from the counter. Daphne recognized Gladys, one of her mother’s friends. She’d forgotten she manned the desk after Ian went home for the night. Daphne smiled. “I’m looking for the kitchen.”

  “Tyne told me he invited you for supper. Down the hallway there.” Gladys pointed.

  Daphne followed the aroma of roast chicken and seared beef to the dining room. Lord, she was hungry. Crackers were a lousy substitute for lunch. She stopped at a metal door with PRIVATE, PERSONNEL ONLY painted on it and a small sign that said KITCHEN.

  “Go on in!” Gladys called. “He’s expecting you.”

  She pushed the door open and stepped just inside. People were coming and going at doors that led to the dining room, filling the buffet table. She didn’t want to get in their way. When things slowed down, Tyne looked up and noticed her.

  “Hey, you made it. Grab a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute.” He motioned to a long, wooden table. Everything else was stainless steel.

  She sat facing the dishwasher and appliances, fascinated with the bustle and efficiency of the cooks and kitchen help. Everything moved smoothly, well-coordinated. When the doors to the dining room opened, she could see guests lining up at the buffet while others found tables and settled at them. Things fell into place, and Tyne came to join her.

  “Bet you’re hungry. We have two choices for dinner every night. This time, you can have guava-stuffed chicken breasts with caramelized mango or London broil with rum-molasses sauce.”

  “Does everything here have a sauce or a topping?”

  “Not always. You just got lucky tonight.”

  She frowned. Maybe this food was too fancy for her. “I’ve never had guava. I’ll take the London broil.”

  He wagged his finger at her. “You don’t want to try something new? The chicken’s stuffed with a cream-cheese-and-guava paste and fresh spinach.”

  “I don’t like that many foods to touch.”

  He sat back, stared. “That’s what little kids do. They don’t want their chicken fingers to touch their mashed potatoes.”

  Really? He was going to lecture her again? “I’m not a kid. Some people are purists. When they eat chicken, they want to taste chicken.”

  “You liked my Thai dinner.” />
  She sighed. “Okay, give me the chicken. You made it, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe.” He gave her his lopsided grin and went to get her a plate. It had roasted vegetables on the side.

  She studied the chicken breast. It looked pretty, like something you’d see in a magazine.

  “It doesn’t bite. Try some.”

  She sliced off a small end, reluctantly put it in her mouth, then moaned. Lord, it was good!

  Tyne’s face lit with pleasure. “You like it?”

  “It tastes sweet, and rich, and savory . . .” She shook her head. “It’s delicious.”

  He looked cocky. “That’s what fusion cooking is all about, combining flavors. It’s my specialty.”

  No wonder the inn was always full. With food like this, a gorgeous property, and a plethora of places to visit, it made a perfect getaway. “You cook dinner almost every night, don’t you?”

  He leaned forward, happy to talk about his job. “I work the night shift Tuesday through Saturday, but before Paula leaves for the day, she makes a traditional dish for me to serve, along with my international dish. Then I do all of the sides. She does suppers on Sunday and Monday, so that I can have two nights off in a row. I take her early shift those days.”

  She tried to keep it all straight. Couldn’t. “That sounds complicated. . . and exhausting. Don’t you end up working two shifts back to back somewhere?”

  He nodded. “We thought about switching things up when she married Chase, since he only closes the bar on Sunday, but Chase likes having the kids to himself on Sunday nights while Paula works. And that way, Chase and Paula can sleep in”—he winked—“on Monday mornings.”

  She blushed at his innuendo. What was she? A nun? If Miriam had said that, she’d have laughed. But there was something about Tyne that made her feel self-conscious. Okay, correct that. Almost everything made her self-conscious. She went for another bite of food to distract herself.