“What’s wrong with you doing the show?” She did the math in her head, then looked at him. “You’re really close to graduating, aren’t you?”
Stephen, all six plus feet of hunky guy, shifted uncomfortably. “I was in my last semester.”
“Before graduating?” she asked, her voice a slight shriek. “You left school for this?”
“Now you sound like my brother.”
“Maybe he has a point.”
“I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to get away.”
She shook her head. “You get how idiotic that is, right?”
The smile returned. “Maybe, but I’m still not going back.”
“I feel the need to take your brother’s side in this.”
“But you’re not going to, are you?” Stephen shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Because if I leave, you don’t do the show.”
Something she hadn’t thought about. “Why are you here? I mean really, why are you here? I can’t believe school was that difficult.”
“It wasn’t hard, if that’s what you mean.” He sighed. “Our folks died about eight years ago. There was Sasha and Finn and me, and no one else. We were close before, but losing them changed everything. It was hard.”
Aurelia had a feeling the word hard didn’t begin to describe what they’d gone through. “At least it brought you together,” she said, thinking that the loss of her father hadn’t brought her and her mother together.
“Finn won’t let go. He’s holding on too tight. Sasha found the audition in the paper. He’s the one who wants to be on TV. I just want to be anywhere but South Salmon.” He stared into her eyes. “It seems to me, we could help each other. I get your mom off your back and you protect me from Finn.”
“I’m not sure you need protecting.”
“Everyone needs protecting now and then.”
There was something about the way he said the words. A vulnerability that only made him more appealing. Maybe Stephen wasn’t as scary as she had first thought. But scary or not, she was taking a big risk. So much could go wrong.
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he said quietly.
His words stunned her. It was as if he could read her mind. No one had ever done that before, probably because no one had ever taken the time to get to know her.
“You can’t know that,” she said, wanting to believe him, but afraid to try.
“Sure, I can. Why don’t we try being here for each other?”
A tempting offer, she thought.
She stared into his eyes, searching for the truth. As she looked, she realized the answer wasn’t to be found in Stephen. It was in herself. Either she gathered the courage to take the next logical step, or she was trapped forever.
“Let’s do it,” she said and promised herself there would be no regrets.
DAKOTA STARED at the raw chicken in the pan, not sure if she should put it in now or wait until Finn arrived. What had she been thinking, inviting him over to dinner? In truth, he’d sort of invited himself, but still. Their evening was clearly a date, which should have been good but wasn’t because now she was rattled. Worse, her thighs had been quivering all day.
Before she could decide about the chicken, the doorbell rang. She hurried toward the door, only to run back into the kitchen, pull open the oven and set the pan inside. Dinner would be ready in forty minutes. They would have to figure out a way to fill the time until then.
She sucked in a breath, squared her shoulders and opened the front door.
“Hi,” she said.
It was good she spoke quickly, before she could really see him. Once she took in the long, lean body, the handsome face, the cotton shirt that wasn’t plaid, she found herself feeling the tiniest bit disoriented.
“Hi, yourself,” Finn said with a smile, as he handed her a bottle of red wine. “I hope this is okay.” He pointed at the wine. “I stopped at a store in town to pick it up. The guy made several recommendations. I’m not much of a wine guy. I wouldn’t mind learning about it. You probably know something about wine, what with all the wineries around here.”
As his words swirled around her, she realized he was talking too quickly. Was it possible Finn was nervous, too? The thought made her feel a whole lot more comfortable about the evening.
“I know nothing about wine,” she said, holding up the bottle. “Except that I usually like it. Come on in.”
He followed her into the kitchen. She only had to search two drawers before finding the corkscrew. Finn took the bottle from her and made quick work of the cork. She set glasses on the counter and he poured. After they toasted each other, she led the way back into her living room.
The house was small—two bedrooms—and a rental. Intelligent thinking and her slightly feminist sensibilities had told her to buy a house. After all, she was a professional who could take care of herself. But she was enough of a traditionalist to want to buy her first house with the man she loved. Hence, the rental.