A Memory Away. Melinda CurtisЧитать онлайн книгу.
If so, she was glad. She enjoyed this man more than the one she’d first met. Baby must think so, too. Her little bundle of joy was still.
“And Felix over there.” He tipped his bottle toward a barrel-chested man with what looked like cat hair sprinkled on his black polo shirt. “He’d like me better if I adopted a cat from him.”
That didn’t sound so bad.
Duffy nodded toward the huge man across from Felix. “And Rutgar... I think Rutgar believes I’m the advance wave of a subversive group. I’m surprised he didn’t bring his binoculars to keep a close eye on me tonight.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, it didn’t really start until the day you showed up.” He rubbed his hand back and forth over his hair, unintentionally spiking up the cowlick at his temple. “My coworkers at the winery tell me it’ll pass, but after only a few days, it’s starting to get to me. I don’t share my life with strangers.”
And yet, he’d essentially shared a lot with Jess in the past few minutes.
A fact he apparently realized, since he picked at the label of his beer and mumbled, “I told myself I wouldn’t crack under the pressure.”
Of Jessica’s appearance? Or the town’s nosiness?
The elderly woman at the table next to him reached over to touch his arm. “Duffy, we’re all curious about Jessica’s baby.”
Duffy’s eyebrows lowered to storm-warning levels.
“Due in two months,” Jess said impulsively, adding a smile that felt as fake as the time the bakery circuit breakers had blown and Vera had filled her cookie case with store-bought goods.
Jessica’s smile eased as she faced Duffy. His predicament—or more precisely, the serious import he gave it—was amusing. “So you don’t like them prying.”
“Exactly.” He sank back into his seat. “Have you remembered anything else about Greg?” She could tell by his guarded tone that there were many more questions in the wings. For starters, whether she remembered if he’d swindled her or not.
“Not much.”
Outside, the rain came down harder.
“Well, dinner tonight is my treat.”
My treat.
Another rainy night. A flat tire. Hot coffee. My treat. An irresistible smile.
“Greg stopped to help me with a flat tire in the rain.” Jessica’s hopes floated high with the realization. “A random act of kindness.” If that wasn’t an indication that Duffy’s brother wasn’t a bad man, she didn’t know what was.
“Saw you as an easy mark, no doubt.” Duffy stared out at the rain. “A woman. Alone.”
* * *
DUFFY COULD TELL Jessica didn’t like his assessment of Greg.
Her dark eyes cooled, until they were as cold as the stormy night outside.
Oddly, when she’d come in, he’d felt they were in the same lifeboat in the midst of a graying sea. He’d lowered his guard. Not that it mattered much. After dinner, he and Jess probably wouldn’t see each other again. He’d ask to be notified when the baby was born, but otherwise keep his distance.
“What do you do for a living?” Duffy asked after the waiter came by to take their order.
“I’m a baker.”
Greg’s target of choice had been more established, professional women. Jessica lacked the age and paycheck that Greg had preferred. The good news was that the baby wouldn’t lack for birthday cakes.
Jessica’s gaze had grown distant. “Greg liked things with cream filling. Éclairs. Cream-filled cupcakes. Danish.”
“Yes.” Duffy dipped a chip into the small bowl of salsa. “I don’t doubt you didn’t know him.”
“I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m just happy to be remembering.” She had steady, dark brown eyes. Trustworthy eyes. The kind a man could look into all night long while they discussed everything from the latest sports scores to the meaning of life. “I’ll try not to share if it bothers you.”
Her memories didn’t bother him as much as the increasing empathy he felt toward her did. He had no idea if she was running a con or not. Until he knew for sure, he couldn’t afford to feel anything but suspicion. Duffy pushed the small bowl across the table. “Salsa?”
“Baby doesn’t like spicy food.” Jess stared at the bowl, and sighed wistfully. “I miss it.”
“Greg hated spicy food.”
A smile curled slowly on her face. “He did, didn’t he? He was a...meat-and-potatoes man. A griller. He had a barbecue!” This last was announced with as much fervor as a fan announcing a game-winning touchdown.
He compressed his lips to keep from smiling. “Top-of-the-line.” Duffy had sold it. Why had Greg needed a grill that could cook forty burgers at a time? Because Greg only bought the best. “Do you remember the car he drove?”
Her slender brows drew down. “Blue. BMW. It had really stiff seats.” She rubbed her forehead as if her head ached. “Don’t ask me any more questions. Tell me something about Greg’s childhood.” She added quickly, “Something nice.”
That gave Duffy pause. He hadn’t thought about his brother in a kindly way for a long time. “He brought home a puppy once.”
“How sweet. A rescue?” Jessica’s eyes roved across his features and seemed to catalog his movements. She looked at him as if he were precious to her.
He suspected she was trying to see Greg in him. It should have been an intense intrusion. But her searching for Greg in Duffy’s appearance and voice touched him. She believed she’d cared for Greg. Duffy was oddly grateful, because sometimes late at night when he couldn’t sleep, he felt guilty for not mourning his brother more deeply.
“We thought the puppy was a rescue.” Duffy cleared his throat, unexpectedly reluctant to destroy her good opinion of his brother even more. “Turns out Greg stole it from a pet store at the mall.” And had tried to blame Duffy. That had been the beginning of the end of their twin bond.
“I wanted to hear something nice,” Jess chastised softly.
It didn’t escape his notice that she wasn’t arguing the fact that Greg had stolen something.
“There must be some memory,” she prompted in a voice so tender, so full of hope, that disappointing her would have been a crime. “One where you think of him fondly.”
It should have taken longer to dredge up something positive. “We both received model airplanes one Christmas. Our cat knocked mine off a shelf and it broke. Greg gave me his.” Duffy had to force the last words out. “Greg used to be generous like that.”
“A plane.” She beamed at him as if he’d given her an unexpected gift. Candy or flowers or something. “Greg took me to the airport once to...to...” Her smile wavered as she reached for the memory. “To watch the planes take off. He said one day he’d fly away and take me with him.” Her smile wavered. “I bet you think that was a line.”
It was hard to believe Jess was a con artist when she seemed so naive. Duffy hated to disillusion her, and so he chose his next words carefully. “Greg could be kind. And in that moment, he might have meant it.”
Her small smile pleased him. It shouldn’t have. If she wasn’t who she said she was, he was making himself vulnerable, becoming a mark.
It’s only dinner. Then she’ll be gone.
Their food arrived as thunder clapped strong enough to shake El Rosal’s foundation. The room echoed with gasps and expressions of surprise.
Shortly