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he’d worked hard to pay for the food they were wasting. Now he had plenty of money but it annoyed him because he didn’t enjoy the company of people who couldn’t indulge themselves now and then. Everything in moderation, of course, but he didn’t want a woman who would run in horror at the thought of splitting a piece of cheesecake with him.
Once inside the restaurant, he was very pleased with Molly’s recommendation. The space was warm and inviting. Nice enough that his tailored gray silk suit and tie weren’t out of place, but not so fancy that they couldn’t relax and enjoy themselves. The wine bottles on display behind the hostess’s station were high quality and not the kind you could buy at the liquor store or order down at the local bar, the Wet Hen.
Their table was intimate, in a dark corner of the restaurant. It was lit by the flicker of ivory candles that gave everything a warm golden glow, including Rose’s flawless complexion. He’d always admired her peaches-and-cream skin. She’d never worn makeup in high school and she didn’t need it now, although she’d lined her eyes and put a glossy color on her lips.
They quickly ordered and settled in. Their waiter brought their wine and bread with oil and herbs.
Rose pulled a hunk of bread off the loaf and moved it to her plate. “So what brings you back to Cornwall, Xander?”
That was a good question. What had brought him back to Cornwall? The truth wouldn’t work. He’d given Ken and Molly a lame story about needing to get away from D.C. for a few weeks and prepare for the launch of his book. Molly had eaten it up. Ken had been more suspicious, but he was glad to have him home for a while. That story probably worked just as well as anything.
“Congress is out of session. I was feeling a little burned out, so I decided to come home instead of staying in Washington. With my book coming out and a reelection year on the horizon, I needed it. Come the fall, it will be twelve solid months of campaigning and fund-raising on top of finishing out my term. It’s exhausting. I needed to get away for a while and recharge before I jump back into the fray.”
“That’s understandable. When you work that hard for that long, you’ve got to get away every now and then or you’ll go crazy.”
Xander couldn’t hide his smirk. “Pot, I’d like you to meet kettle.”
She shrugged away his dig. “I never said I wasn’t crazy. You just haven’t asked me the right questions to uncover the ugly truth.”
Xander took a sip of his wine and regarded her across the table. She didn’t look a decade older, but there were subtle changes. He could detect the faint lines of stress that life was etching onto her face, but he didn’t mind it. He preferred women with faces that actually moved. It was hard to come by anymore. But Rose was real. Fresh and honest and everything he remembered her to be. He’d thought for a while that he’d embellished her in his mind over the years, but she met his every expectation. He hadn’t been this entranced by a woman in a very long time.
“You wouldn’t be the first crazy woman I found to be incredibly sexy.”
Rose probably thought her blush would be disguised by the dim lighting, but he could still make out the pink tint of her cheeks. He wanted to reach across the table and stroke the pad of his thumb across her soft skin, but if he started touching her, he wasn’t certain he would be able to stop.
Later tonight perhaps he wouldn’t have to. He wanted Rose. He shouldn’t. She deserved someone who could offer her more than just a few weeks. But he couldn’t change how he responded to her. It was hardwired in his DNA somehow. What would it hurt for them to indulge? It would certainly make his time here more pleasurable.
All of this assuming, of course, that the reason he was home didn’t ruin it all.
Xander and his foster brothers hadn’t seen the sketch of the unidentified man buried on their property, but the odds were it would lead the authorities back to the farm. Anyone who knew Tommy Wilder back in the day would probably recognize him from the drawing.
What would happen then? Xander, with his law degree, was pretty certain that none of the Eden kids would be charged or serve jail time. Tommy’s death was justifiable and the statute of limitations had run out on any stupid things they’d done after the fact. But they were more concerned with the truth coming out. It could kill their father. Break their mother’s heart. Ruin his career and the work he did with his charity.
And as far as Rose was concerned, he didn’t think she would be so keen on seeing him if he was implicated in the death of one of his fellow foster children. Really, calling Tommy a child was a misnomer. Nearly eighteen, he had been a large, dangerous, out-of-control teenager with sticky fingers and hard fists. The other children had only done what they had to do to protect each other and the home they loved.
Perhaps she would understand. Either way, he would figure it out. If the alternative was staying far, far away from Rose, he would just have to make sure that the Garden of Eden Christmas Tree Farm, and everyone who’d ever lived on it, came out of this squeaky-clean. That was why he was here anyway.
Making love to Rose would just be an exceptionally sweet bonus.
* * *
Dinner went by quickly. The wine had flowed, and so had the conversation. She’d tried to keep the conversation focused on his life now or on reminiscing about their childhoods together. Talking about her life was dangerous territory and she wanted to avoid it. It had gone well so far. Before she knew it, their creamy slab of tiramisu was gone and the check had arrived.
As they walked out to the parking lot together, she was surprised to find Xander’s black Lexus was the last car out there. The restaurant was so well designed for romance and privacy that you couldn’t tell if there were a hundred or a dozen people inside. Apparently, there were none. “I didn’t realize we closed the place down.”
Xander walked her around to the passenger side of the SUV but stopped short of opening the door. “I’m not ready for tonight to be over yet.”
Neither was she. She’d been hesitant to spend this time with Xander, but she’d had a nice evening. This was the first real date she’d gone on in forever. Adult time with nice clothes and good food and, for once, no worries. She had thoroughly enjoyed herself and she didn’t want to go home and start her old life back up again. “It doesn’t have to be,” she said.
The skies were dark and clear tonight. The nearly full moon hung overhead, casting everything in a silvery light. It made it hard to read Xander’s expression, but his tense body language made it clear he was holding something in. She wanted to put her hand to his cheek and urge him to tell her what he wanted to say.
“Rose...” he said, hesitating for a moment. “I’ve waited eleven long years to kiss you again. When I was writing the chapters about our time together, I realized how special you were to me. And the moment I saw you in the diner, kissing you again was all I could think about. I’ve missed the feel of your lips and the soft sounds you made when I touched you just right.”
Rose’s breath caught in her throat. Had he really been thinking of kissing her all this time? She didn’t know what to say. It was the most romantic thing she’d heard in a long time. Maybe ever. Every joint in her body softened like room-temperature butter as he spoke the words to her.
He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head softly. “I know I have no right to ask anything of you, because I’m not staying around for long, but I’d kick myself if I let you out of my sight and didn’t at least...” His voice trailed off. Then his gaze zeroed in on her own. “May I kiss you?”
She knew she should say no for a million reasons, but none of them mattered at the moment. Not with the intense way he was looking at her. His eyes were devouring her as if she were a cool glass of water and he were stranded in the desert. It felt nice to be that desired again. How could she turn that down? Besides, what could a kiss hurt? Just one harmless little kiss? It didn’t mean anything. As long as she kept the situation in perspective, it would be fine.
“How could a girl say no to that?”