Derick (Delta Forces #3) - Elizabeth Lennox Page 0,9
“They’re inside.”
Carrie’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding, right? I was just teasing.”
He led her over to the shaded porch and waved towards one of the chairs. “Not kidding.” He disappeared inside, then returned with a pitcher of lemonade. “I made this earlier today, knowing I’d be out in the sun today.” He poured lemonade over two glasses filled with ice, then handed one to her. “Lemon trees are tropical plants. They wouldn’t be able to survive in this area during the winter months.”
She watched, thinking that even the way the man drank was a turn on. He gulped down the lemonade and she watched his Adam’s apple bob, thinking that the man was fascinating.
He glanced at her untouched lemonade. “You don’t like it?”
Carrie pulled her gaze away from his throat and looked down at her glass, praying that he couldn’t see the blush staining her cheeks. “I’m sure it’s wonderful.” She lifted the glass to her lips and tasted, then took a longer sip. “Oh my, this is really good!”
He nodded, and poured himself another glass. “Thanks for your help out there. I enjoy gardening, but sometimes, the plants get a bit out of control. Especially in June after the spring rains and the heat from the sunshine.” He paused and took another long sip. “By August, there won’t be as much to do, other than control the bugs.”
“That doesn’t sound as interesting.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, it’s not. But all this,” he said, indicating the large garden, “is worth it.”
She followed his gaze, admiring the plants. “I agree. It’s pretty amazing, everything you’ve planted and grown. Very impressive.”
He looked at her, and she could see the indecision in his eyes now that he’d removed his sunglasses. She wondered if she was imposing on him. Maybe he had things he needed to get done. And here she was, just sitting on his porch enjoying the view. “I’d better get…”
“One of my friends made some homemade pasta the other day,” Derick interrupted. “With that, plus your pasta sauce, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” He eyed her curiously. “You don’t have other plans, do you?”
Carrie knew that she should say she had something else to do. She didn’t, but she could easily get into her truck and go…somewhere. Anywhere. Just so that he didn’t know that she was sitting at home tonight, not doing anything.
So, it was a surprise when she heard herself say, “No. I don’t have any other plans. Pasta would be really nice.”
“Good,” he replied, nodding. “How about if you come on back around six o’clock?”
Carrie checked her watch. That was only a couple of hours away. She shouldn’t do it. He was a big, muscular man. But then she remembered the way he’d touched the tomato plants. The gentle way he’d touched all of the plants. Could she risk it? Just this once?
It wasn’t as if she were going to have sex with him. It was just dinner. And she could hurry home afterwards. She had a safe haven to return to tonight. With heavy locks on the doors.
“Yes. Six o’clock. That would be great.”
He nodded. “Good. I’ll see you at six.”
She nodded as well, and felt a bit silly, just standing there, staring at him. So she looked down at the glass, surprised to find that she’d drank all of the lemonade. It was surprisingly good. She set the glass down on the table and walked down the steps. Without saying anything else, because Carrie had no idea what else to say, she walked back to her house.
Once inside, she leaned her back against the door, closed her eyes, and tried to slow her breathing. Dinner. With a man! Just a meal, she told herself, trying to tamp down her nervousness. And excitement.
“Just dinner,” she whispered. Then she pushed away from the door and hurried up the stairs. She was hot and sweaty and, when she looked in the mirror, Carrie gasped at her reflection. She looked like a hag!
Oh no! This wouldn’t do! Her feminine instincts, long suppressed, flared at the horror in the mirror. “Time to pretty up,” she told her reflection.
Chapter 6
Derick’s beer froze midway to his mouth as he stared at the image walking towards his house. “Jolene” had abandoned her baggy jeans, tee shirt, and work boots for tonight. Instead, she wore a dress. A short, flirty summer dress that ended several inches above her knees. She’d also found a pair of wedge heels that made her