Postcards from Cedar Key (7 page)

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Authors: Terri DuLong

BOOK: Postcards from Cedar Key
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9
W
hen Saxton walked into my shop the following morning, I was surprised again at the reaction I had when I saw him. I felt fluttery and even a bit giddy. Yes, like a teenager with her first crush. I firmly believe that each of us gives off a certain amount of energy when we encounter particular people. And I was beginning to feel that when my energy combined with Saxton's the level was pretty high.
“Hey, good morning,” I said, feeling a huge smile cross my face.
“And a good morning to you as well,” he said as that dimple in his chin deepened.
“So what can I do for you?” I asked, and then realized what a dumb question that was. Obviously, he was here for his usual ration of chocolate.
“Well, I'd like my chocolate,” he said, proving me right. And then he went on to say, “But I was . . . wondering . . . ah . . . if you had any plans for this evening?”
Plans? Meaning a
date
type of plans?
All of a sudden my throat felt like sandpaper. I swallowed and shook my head. “No. No plans for tonight.”
Saxton's smile increased. “Oh, good. Well . . . I was wondering if maybe you'd like to join me for dinner. At my place.”
At his place? Oh, yeah, this was definitely a date.
“You cook?” was all I could think of to say.
His deep laughter filled the shop. “Let's just say, I try. I thought I'd grill some steaks and we could eat out on the deck.”
“That sounds great,” I said, and then added, “But I don't know where you live.” I felt flustered in addition to the fact that everything I said seemed to sound stupid.
Saxton didn't seem to be affected by my lack of intelligent sentences. “The pink house over on First Street.”
Oh, wow! I loved that house. I'd passed it so many times since moving to the island and always wondered who lived in that gorgeous house overlooking the water.
“Great. I know exactly which house it is.”
“Okay. Well, why don't we say seven? That'll give you a bit of time after you close the shop.”
“Sounds good.”
We stood there for a few seconds smiling at each other until it hit me the man had also come for his chocolate.
“Right,” I said, reaching for a box and proceeding to fill it with his usual request.
 
I had chosen to wear a pair of black cropped pants with a white cotton sweater that I'd recently finished knitting. Gold sandals completed my outfit, and I leaned closer to the mirror to apply some mascara to my lashes. Adding a bit of blush and lipstick, I smiled at my reflection. My hair was a simple style, but I liked it, and I also liked the overall appearance I saw looking back at me. It had been a while since I'd had a bona fide date and taken extra time with clothes and makeup.
I walked over to the window and stroked the top of Sigmund's head. “Be a good boy,” I told him before walking into the kitchen to get the almond cake I'd baked to bring for dessert.
On the short walk to Saxton's house I found myself excited at the prospect of spending the evening with a man who appealed to me. It had been three years since I ended the relationship with Rodney, and although I'd had other offers for dates I preferred being alone. But there was something about Saxton that made me think being with the right person could be a very enjoyable thing.
I saw the pale pink house farther down the street and smiled. Not a small structure, but not too large for one person. I could understand why this house had appealed to him. Referred to as a stilt house, it was positioned above a cement pad, and stairs to the side led up to a deck that had an unobstructed view of the water all the way to the horizon.
As I began climbing the stairs I heard the soft strains of a piece of classical music coming from above. When I reached the top, I paused and allowed myself to breathe in the fresh salt air as my gaze took in the Big Dock across the water to my left and the large expanse of water in front of me.
“Hey, you're here,” I heard Saxton say, and swung around to see him coming through French doors holding a bottle of wine and two wineglasses.
“Yes, and I was just taking in this gorgeous view that you have. It's amazing.”
“Thanks. Yeah, I enjoy it a lot,” he said, glancing at the dish in my hand.
“Oh, I made an almond cake. I thought it might be nice for dessert.”
Saxton placed the wine and glasses on the patio table. “Great. Come on in. We'll put it in the kitchen and I can show you around.”
I followed him through the French doors into an open area that consisted of combined family room, dining area, and kitchen. All of it surrounded by glass. Another set of French doors led out to the deck from the kitchen. Skylights above and windows looking out the side and front of the house, with the sight of water everywhere, made me feel like I was on a boat.
“Oh! This really
is
amazing,” I said, placing my cake on the counter that separated the kitchen from the family room.
Lola came running from another part of the house, barking and tail wagging, to greet me.
“Hey, there, girl,” I said, bending down to give her a pat. “You sure have a nice home.”
Saxton laughed. “Yeah, we both like it. It's comfortable and perfect for us.”
That was when I noticed the chintz sofa and two cushy chairs, all positioned perfectly to take advantage of the water view. Newspapers were flung at the end of the sofa, and a stack of magazines on an end table looked ready to topple over. Three pairs of shoes lay abandoned by the front door, indicating they had been removed, tossed off, and left there.
“So this is the family room,” Saxton said, gesturing with his hand. “And as you can see, I have a small dining area off the kitchen.”
I followed him to the right and saw a round oak table filled with assorted papers, envelopes, ink pens and . . . two plants that had long ago stopped giving off oxygen.
Just as I wondered where Saxton found the space to actually have a meal at the table, he said, “You'll see I'm a bit untidy, but I have a cleaning girl that comes in weekly to dust, vacuum, and that kind of stuff.”
I wondered how the poor girl could get to the surface in order to clean, but remained silent.
“And here's the kitchen,” he said, waving an arm to the right.
No doubt that it was a designer kitchen with stainless steel fridge and stove surrounded by gorgeous oak cabinets, but the piled-up bags of chips, cookies, and more envelopes and papers detracted from the beauty of it.
I followed him to the end of the hallway, where he led me into a large room on the right overlooking the water. A cherrywood L-shaped computer station dominated the space in front of the large windows, with file cabinets and bookcases flanking the other three walls. Again, books, papers, and magazines were piled haphazardly on all of the available space.
“Very nice,” I said quietly. And it was. The entire house was gorgeous, and it certainly wasn't dirty. It was just . . . cluttered. Cluttered and a disorganized mess.
Walking back to the hallway, I followed Saxton into a large master bedroom. Yes, the bed was made, but a couple of shirts had been tossed across the navy blue comforter and both night tables were filled with ink pens, pads of paper, and various other items. The two bureaus were the same, as well as the desk in the corner. In the other corner was Lola's bed, where she was now curled up.
I wasn't a neat freak. Really, I wasn't, but the thought of living in such chaos made me shudder. I itched to grab some plastic garbage bags, sweep through the house, and discard all of the clutter.
But instead I forced a smile and said, “It's such a nice house,” as I thought,
and it's such a shame it isn't more organized.
“I'm glad you like it,” Saxton said, totally oblivious to my honest reaction. “Let's go on the deck and have some wine before dinner.”
Good idea. At least the patio table had some room to put wineglasses and plates.
I watched Saxton uncork the bottle of cabernet and fill two glasses, and I found myself noticing that although some of it had dribbled onto the table he made no effort to wipe it up. Was I being overly picky? Probably. But gee whiz, it really didn't take a lot of effort to be organized and neat.
Saxton passed a glass to me and touched the rim with his. “Here's to you finding your answers,” he said.
I looked up and focused on his handsome face. The clutter I'd observed a few minutes before was forgotten. “Thank you. Cheers.”
He pulled up a chair across from me and smiled. “Did you have a busy day at the shop?”
I took a sip of wine and nodded. “Yeah, it was pretty steady. Didn't you go fishing with Doyle again this morning? How'd that go?”
“Oh, we did pretty well. I caught quite a few mullet. And that reminds me, Doyle has invited you to join us for a boat ride sometime. Have you ever been out there to Atsena Otie or North Key?” He flung his hand toward the water.
“No, never, and I'd love to go.”
“Great. He said to ask Chloe if she'd like to go too. You gals pick the day and we'll do it.”
“Sounds like fun. A Monday or Tuesday would probably work best for us since our shops are closed on those days.”
I was surprised that an hour had passed over two glasses of wine as we chatted along in companionable ease.
“Well,” Saxton said, getting up. “Time for me to get those steaks on the grill.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“Sure. If you'd like to set the table, that would be great. Come on, I'll show you where everything is.”
I got the table set with mismatched plates and silverware just as Saxton removed two rib eye steaks from the grill.
“Smells wonderful,” I said.
He went back into the house and came out carrying a tray with a bowl of potato salad and French bread, along with two pillar candles and holders.
I removed the bowl and bread from the tray while he lit the candles and then poured more wine.
Sitting down and placing the paper napkin in my lap, I said, “This looks great. Bon appétit.”
“And to you,” he said, and smiled.
The steak was cooked to perfection, the potato salad was delicious, and the French bread was warm and crusty. He might have a cluttered house, but he was a good chef and host. I heard the soft music drifting outside and looked across to where the lights on Dock Street now reflected on the water, and smiled. This had been a very enjoyable evening. Being with Saxton was easy and relaxing. There was no fumbling for topics to talk about or feelings of boredom. All of it simply felt right. And comfortable.
We continued conversing right through dessert and coffee, and I was shocked to glance at my watch and see it was after eleven.
“Let me help you clean up,” I said. “And then I have to be going. What a great evening it was. I really enjoyed it.”
“No, no. I have the dinner dishes in the dishwasher. All that's left are these coffee cups. I'll get these inside and then I'll walk you home.”
“Oh, you don't have to do that,” I told him as I followed him inside with my empty mug.
He turned around and flashed me a sexy smile. “True. But I'd like to. Besides, we'll take Lola and she'll enjoy that.”
We stood by the gate to my courtyard as Lola sniffed the pavement.
“Thank you so much for a lovely evening, Saxton. It was nice.”
“It was, wasn't it?” he said.
And before I realized what was happening, I felt his lips on mine. Gentle, with just enough pressure to cause my stomach to feel like it was in a free fall. I felt his hand on the back of my neck pulling me closer. When we broke apart, both of us were breathing heavily.

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