Page 40 of The Guest Cottage
“Not when it’s true.”
A damp breeze blew her hair into her face. She shook it back, then gazed up at the dark sky. “I was given a position in public relations at the company. I don’t think anyone expected much from me at first, including Dylan, but I advanced pretty quickly, meeting expectations, sometimes exceeding them, until I went from local to regional and then was overseeing all the public outreach from various departments. Through the years, my position changed and I was given more responsibility, more power, until I was dealing with some of their most important partners and handling their biggest contracts. Sandra and Aston adjusted their attitudes. I don’t know that they liked me more, but they definitely respected me, and in the business world, respect is everything.”
“Respect counts everywhere. It’s hard to genuinely like someone you can’t respect.”
“True.” She hip-bumped him, causing him to miss a step. “I respected you right off.”
Rather than bump her back, he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I don’t give respect lightly. You impressed me right off, but it wasn’t until I got to know you that you had my respect.”
“You feel like you know me now?”
“I do.” He led her to a dock that stretched out over the dark water. It creaked as they walked out, accompanied by the sound of water lapping against the piers. “You’re independent and proud, with a flair for adventure.”
She laughed. “Bramble being the adventure?”
He nodded. “You’re fair-minded, which is why you don’t like injustice.”
“Because I defended Pixie Nolan? I mean, I didn’t. Not her specifically. It was just the idea that—”
Touching a warm finger to her lips, he halted her rambling explanation. “You have a thing for Dior but have no problem mixing it up with comfortable jeans—and a Dry Frog Tavern T-shirt.”
That made her laugh. “Hey, I love that shirt.”
“Whatever you wear, you own it and make it look good.”
Pretty sure her smile would remain for a week.
“You have a generous view of life.”
Because she felt jaded after the past months, she tipped her head and asked, “How so?”
“You don’t get insulted easily. Whenever possible, you choose to be amused instead. I’ve seen that happen a few times now, and I like that outlook a lot. Life has enough real strife in it that no one needs to seek it out just for the purpose of being offended. You’ve dealt with hardship, and you obviously know the difference.”
Awed that he would see her so favorably, she confessed, “I’ve had an easy life. I imagine it’s a lot more difficult for someone who hasn’t had enough to eat or is out in the cold.” She looked up at him. “Or someone defending his country abroad.”
He didn’t comment on that, and she really wished he would. She’d love to know more about him, but he rarely shared his feelings. Cort had to have the same needs, the same desires, as everyone else, yet he was always so stoic. Not that she wanted him to be maudlin, but she wanted him to feel comfortable enough with her to show . . . Well, everything.
It struck her how much she’d changed since coming to Bramble. It had been a little over a month, but she knew she was no longer the same person, and that meant she viewed Cort, and everyone else, differently.
For now, he seemed to want to know more about her, and she had no problem with that. His interest was actually flattering. “One of my duties while working with the Heddings was to approve our social outreach to the less fortunate. For every group or charity that we helped to fund, there were a dozen I had to pass by.” It had left her heart heavy with regret. “I hope they find someone else who takes the task seriously. A lot can be done when you put your mind to it.”
Voice lowering, Cort said, “I have to tell you, Marlow, it’s sexy how much you care.You’resexy, but you don’t seem to know it.”
Sexy? Her? She nearly giggled again at the absurd notion.
“See?” He traced her lips with a fingertip. “I saw that look.”
“It’s too dark to see anything. I was promised moonlight, and instead we have a cloudy night.”
“True, but the fireflies are out, and you love fireflies.”
“I do.” They flickered everywhere, little glimmers on scrubby bushes, randomly flitting by on the breeze. “They seem magical, don’t you think?”
“I like that you think it.” He tugged her closer. “Are you cold?”
“A little.” The June nights could still be chilly, but Herman claimed by the end of the month everyone would be sweating. Putting her arms around Cort, she rested her cheek against his chest. “You smell good.”
She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “So do you.”
