Pool house.
Odd. She went outside. A warm breeze whipped around her, soothing and cooling after the blistering hot day. The pool looked inviting, and Sean had turned on all the outdoor lights—both the pool lights and the tiny white lights weaving throughout the trees that surrounded their property.
The pool house doubled as a guesthouse. It was L shaped with a small kitchenette, bathroom, eating area, and a living area that doubled as a bedroom when they had company.
Sean had set the table with heavy blue dishes she didn’t know they had, an assortment of candles, and a bottle of her favorite red wine. Faint music played in the background. But she barely noticed any of that. She stared at Sean in disbelief.
“You’re wearing a tux?”
He grinned, revealing his dimples, and bowed. His hair flopped over his eyes and he pushed it back.
She laughed when he took her hand and kissed it. Then he led her to a chair and sat her down. “Thank you,” she said.
He poured her some wine, picked up his glass, and toasted her. “To the woman I love.”
She held up her glass. “To the man I love.”
He took two plates out of the mini refrigerator—salads he’d already prepared. “You spoil me,” she said.
“Your wish is my command.”
“I’m so hungry, and whatever you cooked smells amazing. And here I thought you could only cook breakfast and spaghetti. Not that I’m complaining—you make the best spaghetti I’ve ever had. Don’t tell my dad that.”
“Never. I want to remain on his good side.”
“You are. It’s Jack you have to worry about.”
The brief flash of panic on Sean’s face had Lucy laughing. It felt so good to laugh.
“I’m teasing,” Lucy said through her giggles.
She ate the salad—Bibb lettuce and blue cheese and walnuts and cranberries. “This is—like a restaurant.”
He feigned hurt. “Are you implying I didn’t make it myself?”
“Of course not. I saw the mess in the kitchen.” She smiled. “It just looks like you took a crash course in food presentation. And it tastes as good as it looks.”
When they were done with the salads, Sean retrieved two plates that had been warming in the oven. He took off the lids and presented them.
“You made jambalaya?”
“You loved it when we went to that restaurant in Sacramento. So I researched different recipes and thought this would be spicy enough for you.”
She tasted. “Oh my God, I’m in heaven.”
Sean was certainly pleased with himself. “I thought it was good, but I’ve been nibbling all afternoon.”
“It’s better than any I’ve had. And I’m not just saying that to stroke your ego.”
“More wine?”
She rarely had more than one drink, but smiled and held up her empty glass.
They talked about everything except work. Sean showed Lucy new pictures of his niece Molly. He told her about Patrick taking a temporary job in New York City and Elle going with him. “What kind of trouble is Elle going to get Patrick into now?” Lucy said.
“She’s good for him.”
“She’s a train wreck. But I’ll reserve judgment.”
Sean laughed. “This is you reserving judgment? I seem to remember Patrick wasn’t too pleased when you and I started seeing each other.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then said, “You got me.” She told Sean about a long, frustrated email from her sister Carina, who was pregnant and due in less than two weeks.
“She’s not handling maternity leave well,” Lucy said. Carina was a San Diego homicide detective and had been on desk duty for the last three months. She had started her maternity leave last month when the doctor told her to stay off her feet after a false labor episode.
“I don’t know a lazy Kincaid,” Sean said.
“She said if it’s a girl, they’re naming her Rosemary—Rose for our mom, Mary is Nick’s mom.”
“Pretty. And boys?”
“Carina wants Nick, Jr., but Nick apparently put his foot down.”
“He’ll give in.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t already peeked at the gender. My sister doesn’t like surprises.”
“That, too, runs in the family.”
“I liked this surprise,” she said and sipped her wine. “I’m stuffed.”
“What? No room for dessert?”
“Maybe in an hour … or three.” She leaned back and finished her wine.
Sean smiled. “It’s chocolate mousse.”
Her weakness was chocolate. “You made chocolate mousse?”
“No. That I bought from Bird Bakery.”
She loved that place. “I’ve never seen chocolate mousse on the menu.”
“It’s a special order. They like me.” He grinned and straightened his bowtie.