Page 23 of The Guest Cottage
“How long have you had it?”
“Long time.” Sitting back in his seat, one forearm on the table, he asked, “How about you? Any tats?”
That struck her as hilarious.
“Should I take your laugh as a no?”
“My mother would have perished if I’d done anything like that, and Dylan . . .” She groaned. “Bah, I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Then don’t.”
“But everything keeps leading to him.” She rubbed her forehead, then crossed her arms on the table. “I never had any great desire to get a tattoo, but I would never have considered it if I had. Dylan liked things a certain way, and I never minded, so things like tattoos never came up. Manicures and pedicures, yes. Regular visits to the salon so I stayed polished from head to toe, absolutely. A refreshed wardrobe every season because God forbid I should wear the same thing too many times. You see, everyone remembers everything and there would be gossip.”
“Not around here.”
“Which is why I’m having so much fun.”
Their server returned, and as he lit a candle on their table, he asked, “Did you leave room for dessert?”
The fact that everything struck her as funny told her she’d definitely had enough wine. “Decaf coffee?”
Cort spoke up. “You should try the cheesecake with fresh berries.”
As soon as he said it, she immediately wanted it. “I will if you do.”
“Bring us two,” he told the server. “Same with the coffee.”
The dessert turned out to be even better than she’d expected, but maybe that was the atmosphere and the company after so many days spent mostly by herself or chatting with total strangers. She knew Cort now, respected and liked him, and she felt she could call him a friend. A new friend, sure, a hot, sexy friend, but still, he was easy to talk to, even though he didn’t say much. Best of all, he didn’t seem to have any expectations of her.
Switching from wine to coffee had been a good call. She didn’t want to get too tipsy when she still needed to go by the tavern.
As they rose to leave the restaurant, she realized that the sky had darkened all around them. Candles glowed from all the tables. Everywhere she looked, she saw the twinkling of fireflies.
In that moment, after eating scrumptious food and sharing her news with Cort, the fireflies were positively magical.
A perfect accompaniment to a wonderful day. She didn’t want it to end, but she knew she couldn’t monopolize Cort much longer.
As he led her to his truck, she said, “If I’d driven, you wouldn’t have to go by the tavern with me.”
“I don’t mind.”
She believed him. He struck her as a man who spoke his mind without a lot of nonsense tossed in. When a firefly got close, he carefully closed his hands around it, then opened them, palms up, in front of her. The little bug glowed, wings extended.
Inspecting it, Marlow noted the reddish head, the black body, and that soft light. “For an insect, it’s really pretty.”
“Most things are, if you look closely.”
So very true. Until here, now, she’d never have considered getting up close and personal with a bug. Unable to resist, she lightly touched it. The light blinked a few times before the firefly took flight again. She watched it flicker away, lost among a hundred others.
The beauty of the night took her breath away. It was a moment she’d never forget.
Together, she and Cort strolled on, their progress marked by the crunch of their footsteps on the gravel lot. The quiet drone of conversation in the restaurant drifted on the cool evening air, barely audible and in no way intrusive. Stars twinkled in the purple sky, reflecting off the surface of the lake.
“It’s wonderful here.” She thought of all the exotic places she’d been, the luxury resorts she’d visited, and added, “Wonderful and peaceful.”
“Weekends get more chaotic, when the area is open to outsiders.”
“How does that work?” This time, when they reached his truck, Cort helped her up to her seat. As she buckled her seatbelt, she said, “I don’t see any signs restricting people, and there’s no one manning a gate to check addresses or anything.”
