Whisper's Edge (13 page)

“No, I don’t get meanness.” Tristan thought about how his grandfather had hurt his mother. “No, not at all. I have a reputation for being tough but I’ve seen people get really vicious in my line of work.”

“I bet you have. Well, I imagine the pace is much slower here. I hope you can kick back and relax.”

“I’m going to try.” Damn, he was starting to like Savannah even more. When she smiled and went back up on her tiptoes Tristan walked over to her. “Here, let me get those for you.” He put the wine bottle on the counter and reached up above her head, bringing his body up next to hers. A tendril of her hair brushed against his chin and the soft, feminine touch sent his senses reeling. Maybe it was because he’d been thinking about how much he wanted to see her, to touch her, that the reality of it hit him hard, but whatever the reason, Tristan couldn’t recall ever having a reaction this intense over a slight touch. He quickly stepped backward, nearly dropping the glasses, and then tried to regain his composure.

“Are you okay?” She gave him a curious look, but her cheeks were flushed, making Tristan wonder if she felt the same way.

“I stumbled sideways.”

She grinned. “I’m usually the one with that problem.”

“And we haven’t had wine yet,” he tried to joke. He was used to feeling sure of himself, of what to say and what to do in the courtroom, but in this kind of setting he was completely thrown off balance in more ways than one. He never liked the sensation of not knowing what was going to happen next. Tristan wasn’t impulsive. He was a planner, a note taker. He lived his life as if it were a chess game, pondering his next move way before making it. He thought about his purchase of Whisper’s Edge long and hard before making the final decision. Even so, leaving the firm had astounded his friends, and they predicted he’d be back before summer’s end.

For the past few weeks he’d been studying charts and graphs while considering his options for Whisper’s Edge. His mother had recently suggested that it might be less of a risk to spruce it up and leave it as a retirement community. Of course, he’d quickly told her that wouldn’t make sense financially. She’d sighed and said that life didn’t always have to make perfect sense.

“Mercy, what’s going on in that head of yours?” Savannah asked, making Tristan realize that he had been quiet while she poured the wine. She smiled as she handed him a glass, but her voice sounded a little breathless.

“Thinking.” Tristan shrugged. “Sometimes I think way too much, but since it’s a big part of being a lawyer it’s pretty difficult to turn it off.”

“Well, let’s go outside on my patio and think about nothing but enjoying the wonderful weather.”

Her simple statement immediately put him at ease. “Sounds like a plan.” He followed her out the back door to a small but immaculate garden. “This is…pretty.” He didn’t use the word often but it fit.

“Thank you,” she said but her voice held a measure of pride in it. “I enjoy it out here. It always feels…I don’t know, somehow peaceful. This lot is a little ways away from the other lots that are situated much closer together.”

“Nice that you have a bit of privacy.”

“I agree.” They sat down at a white wrought-iron bistro table with a cheerful potted red geranium sitting in the center. “Can we take a sip of wine or should we swirl and smell it first?”

“Swirl and smell and then savor,” he replied with a smile.

“Good; I wanted to, but didn’t want to feel silly unless you did it too.” She glanced down at her shorts. “Although I must say that I look pretty darned shabby for sipping wine. I look more like I should be chugging cheap beer.”

“Hey, it’s my fault for dropping by unannounced.”

Savannah brushed it off. “I have residents drop in on me all the time. Don’t give it another thought.”

“Thanks, but I’ll call next time,” he promised, and then realized that he was telling her he’d be coming back. He knew that he would too. His staying-away plan just wasn’t working out. Although he barely knew her, the thought of never seeing Savannah again on a personal basis was not something he thought he wanted to contemplate. He watched her swirl the wine and almost spill it over the rim of the glass.

“Whoa, I think I need some practice.”

“Not a problem. I could do this every evening,” he admitted. Catching himself, he chuckled so that she thought he was joking—even as the thought went through his mind that having someone to share evenings like this would be nice. He watched her take a sniff. “What do you smell?”

She frowned and then said, “Blackberries?”

Tristan sniffed and then nodded. “Yeah, I agree.”

After she took a sip her eyes widened. “Wow, it is intense.”

“Don’t like it?”

“I’m not used to red wine.” Savannah tilted her head and then took another sip. “I taste…berries.” She frowned. “A hint of coconut? Am I crazy?”

Tristan sampled the wine. “Yes, blackberry and…mocha?”

Savannah sipped and then let it roll on her tongue. “Oh…yeah.” She nodded. “How did I miss the mocha?”

“This would taste great paired with a good steak or burger.”

Savannah lifted one shoulder. “I have a grill. It’s old-school charcoal but works like a charm.”

Tristan gave her a slow smile. “Are you inviting me for dinner?”

She gave him another shy smile. “I do believe so.”

“Well, then, I accept. Maybe dropping in unannounced wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.” He took another sip of the wine.

“If you go for the main course in a bit, I’ll rustle up some side dishes. I have charcoal. Besides, it will give me a chance to get a little bit cleaned up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he assured her, but Savannah looked down at her shorts and rolled her eyes.

“There’s a mom-and-pop store not far from here called Wilson’s. They carry just about anything a person could ever need and then some. But for now let’s enjoy our Red Velvet wine.”

When she lifted her glass, Tristan leaned over and tapped his glass to hers. “To lazy Sunday afternoons.”

“Cheers,” Savannah said and then laughed.

“So, did you do all of this yourself?”

“Pretty much.” Savannah nodded. “This backyard was in about the same condition as the house. Needed a generous amount of tender loving care, but I didn’t have a lot of money to work with.” She looked at him over the rim of her glass. “Actually, I had no money to work with.” She formed her fingers into a zero and chuckled.

“So what did you do?”

“I rescued plants from the living dead. When I was caught taking a brown and brittle hanging planter from a garbage can sitting out for pickup, the residents here started bringing me their castoffs.” She swung her arm in an arc. “Pretty much everything you see has been salvaged.”

Tristan looked around at the abundant flowers and plants, all looking vibrant and healthy. “You have a green thumb, Savannah.”

She tilted her head sideways and laughed. “I had an empty wallet. I had no choice. This table was set out for the garbage too…so I sanded, primed, and painted it.”

Tristan looked down at the patio. “The pavers?”

“Ben helped me…well, correction, I helped Ben put in the bricks. They were salvaged from an old building that was torn down on Main Street. I got them for free.”

“He did an excellent job.”

Savannah nodded in agreement. “I argued but Ben wouldn’t take any money for doing it. Now he brings me stuff that he thinks I might use.” She pointed to a rustic ladder that was now a plant ledge. “I take just about anything.”

“That’s cool, Savannah. Repurposing has become the in thing to do. Very green…”

Her eyes lit up. “I have to admit, finding new ways to use old junk has become a fun hobby. One of my favorite things is using crazy containers for planters.”

“Are those tomato plants?” He pointed to a small patch against a flagstone wall.

“It’s a small salsa garden. Tomatoes, cilantro, peppers, and onions. I showed the garden club how to do it in a big planter. When we harvest we’ll have a huge salsa-making day.” She winked. “And maybe a few pitchers of margaritas.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It will be.” She took a sip of wine. “Wow, this tastes better as you drink it.”

Tristan laughed. “It’s all good after the first glass. So, what else have you done in the garden club?”

“This year we started seedlings in old egg cartons.” She laughed. “We were like little kids when the seeds started sprouting.”

“You’re very good at your job.”

Savannah shook her head. “I appreciate the compliment but it’s truly a labor of love.”

“Still, you deserve to be compensated more for all of the time you put in,” Tristan said, but the comment was a reminder that he was the owner and she was the employee, and he wished he had kept his mouth shut. He also felt another flash of guilt that he wasn’t being completely honest with her. What would she do if she knew he had other plans for the property? The thought bothered him more than he wanted it to, and for the first time he had to wonder if his mother had a point about life not having to make perfect sense. He looked down at the red wine and sighed.

“Um, I wasn’t trying to score brownie points,” Savannah said with a bit of uncertainty.

Tristan looked at her worried expression and damned if he didn’t feel like an ass. “I know. I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Well, Tristan, you’re right. You think way too much. Just go with the flow.…”

“I’m adjusting from working seventy-hour weeks but I’ll try.” Tristan looked at the sincerity in her green eyes and he was touched. Here was a woman whom he sensed came from nothing and cared about everything. While by rights she could be edgy and hard, instead he sensed determination and resiliency, her toughness buffered by an inner softness that he was finding damned hard to resist. “I’m a thinker. A planner.” He poured another glass of wine for them both and then grinned. “Looks like I’ll have to bring another bottle of wine. But yeah, in a few years I could have been a partner in my firm.”

“Do you worry that you made the wrong career choice by coming here?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, but then smiled.

“Well, Kate always tells me to just go with my heart and my gut.”

“And has that worked?”

Savannah leaned forward in her chair and nodded slowly. “Every single time.”

Tristan angled his head to the side and then sighed. “I
wish I could be more like that but it’s in my nature to overthink and worry.”

“Worrying doesn’t change anything, just causes unnecessary stress.”

Tristan smiled at her. “You’re very wise, Savannah.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you serious?”

“I am. You have a great attitude and unique perspective on life.”

“Well, I never really thought about it that way, but thank you.” She shrugged. “I suppose my outlook on life comes from living here with people who are in their twilight years. They know that every day they have left on this earth is a gift so why sweat the small stuff, ya know?”

Tristan lifted his glass. “I’ll drink to that,” he said, and when she laughed, relief washed over him. “I suggest that we finish this bottle with our steak, what do you say?”

“You don’t have to come back for dinner,” Savannah said softly. “I kind of roped you into it.”

When Tristan stood up, her eyes widened. He knew she would stand too, and for the first time since he could remember he decided to act on impulse. He pulled her into his arms, lowered his head, and kissed her. And, oh God, he had imagined what her lips would feel like, what she would taste like, and the real thing was so much better. Her mouth was soft,
pliant
, and she kissed him back with a combination of tenderness and pure sexiness that changed what was meant to be a simple kiss into something much more. She seemed to sink into his arms, and when her fingers threaded through his hair Tristan felt as if he were melting into the ground. When he finally pulled back she blinked up at him.

“What was that all about?” she asked breathlessly.

“Going with the flow,” he answered with a slow grin. “I like it.”

Savannah smiled back, but then shyly put her fingers to her lips as if not believing what had just happened.

“I’ll be back in a bit with a couple of nice steaks and another bottle of Red Velvet. Do you need anything else?”

She shook her head mutely. As he walked away he had a goofy smile on his face and felt, well, positively giddy. When he reached the sidewalk he wanted to do one of those kick-your-heels-together moves, but spotted a neighbor and decided against it. But he felt like it, and that was more than enough.

As he drove away he turned on the radio and started singing along with the Black Eyed Peas. Yeah,
tonight’s gonna be a good night
…

K
ATE KNEW SHE WAS BEING NOSY, BUT SHE SIMPLY COULDN’T
help herself. Every few minutes she peeked through the blinds of her front bay window and looked down the street to see if Tristan’s car was still parked in front of Savannah’s little house. This time when she peeked, his fancy silver car was gone. Damn. She’d hoped Savannah might have invited him to dinner. She’d have to have another talk with that girl!

But then again, maybe she should mind her own business.

Savannah was sweet and trusting, and if Tristan McMillan was anything like his jackass grandfather it would be bad news for her to get involved with him. Tristan sure didn’t come off that way, especially after all of the generous improvements he’d promised to approve at Whisper’s Edge, but Kate remained wary. The last thing in the world she wanted to see was Savannah get hurt—something Kate was all too familiar with and didn’t recommend. The end of her marriage had been the result of the classic executive husband cheating with his secretary. To make matters worse,
Kate had just discovered she was pregnant, and when she lost the baby she’d wondered if it had been due to the stress of the divorce.

Never wanting to become dependent on a man again, Kate had become a successful sales rep for a pharmaceutical company. But years of longs hours and travel took its toll, and when she came home to Cricket Creek to call on an account, returning to a simpler way of life seemed like a smart thing to do, and she applied for the job at Whisper’s Edge. The only family she had left in Cricket Creek was her sister’s family but they were busy running a farm, and she didn’t see nearly enough of them. “It’s my own damned fault for getting into such a rut,” she grumbled beneath her breath.