An Engagement in Seattle - Debbie Macomber [92]
“You agreed we wouldn’t,” Daisy muttered, chewing the cookie, “but I’ll respect your wishes as long as you fill me in on your date last night.”
Lesley smiled. “Ah, yes, my date.”
“You must’ve gotten back late. I didn’t go into work at the bar yesterday because I had to study and I wasn’t through until after midnight and I didn’t hear you come home.”
Lesley hadn’t stopped to chat with Daisy, fearing that sharing her experience would somehow diminish it. She’d gone to bed almost immediately, wanting to mull over her time with Chase, put some perspective on it, luxuriate in the memory of their kisses.
She’d intended to think about all that. Instead, she’d fallen asleep almost immediately. Even now she wasn’t sure how to interpret their evening together.
“Did you have a good time?” Daisy asked.
“Wonderful. We walked along the waterfront, and then went to dinner.” She didn’t mention the ferry ride. She couldn’t. It was too special to share even with Daisy.
She didn’t know what, exactly, had happened between them, only that something had. Whatever it was, she’d allowed it. Had participated in it, and in the end couldn’t deny him or herself the pleasure of those kisses.
No one had ever kissed her the way Chase had, gently, with such infinite care, such tenderness. He’d kissed her the way a woman dreams of being kissed, dreams of being held. Trying to explain that was beyond Lesley. She had no idea where to even begin.
Daisy yawned with great exaggeration. “Sounds like a boring date if you ask me.”
“Maybe, but I’ve never had two men fight over me with switchblades the way you did.”
“Both of ’em were staggering drunk. Besides, I had no interest in dating either one. After being married to Brent for five years, why would I want to involve myself with another biker wannabe? Charlie had the police there so fast my head spun. Good thing, too.”
Personally, Lesley believed Charlie the bartender had a crush on Daisy, but she’d never said as much. He was a nice guy and he looked out for her neighbor, but in Lesley’s opinion, his feelings were more than just friendship for a fellow employee.
“Don’t sidetrack me,” Daisy insisted. “We were talking about you and Chase. That’s his name, isn’t it?” Lesley nodded. “There’s not much more to say. I already told you I had a nice time.”
“I believe you described it as wonderful. You seeing him again?”
“We’re going to a movie…at least I think we are. He mentioned it last night, but we didn’t discuss the time. And he didn’t say anything about it when he phoned a few minutes ago.”
“So he’s already called again?”
Lesley tried not to show how pleased she was. Chase had seemed distracted, but there was no disguising the warmth in his voice. She hoped he’d tell her whatever was troubling him when he picked her up that evening. He’d asked for her address and Lesley had no qualms about giving it to him.
“What’s this?” Daisy asked, reaching across the table to a stack of mail and pulling out a catalog.
“A knitting catalog,” Lesley said, putting the cookie sheets in her sink to cool.
“When did you start knitting?” Daisy asked, slowly flipping through the pages.
“A couple of months ago.”
“Aha! The nesting instinct strikes again.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lesley said impatiently. She walked onto her back porch, retrieved an empty coffee can and filled it with cookies. “Here,” she said, thrusting the can toward her smart-mouthed neighbor. “For Eric and Kevin.”
Chuckling, Daisy stood and reached for the cookies. “I can take a hint. You don’t want me talking about Tony and you don’t want me saying anything about your hormones. It’s downright difficult to carry on a conversation with you, girl.”
After shooing Daisy out the door, Lesley made herself a sandwich and turned on the local noon news. She was chewing away when the billboard she’d seen earlier that week came on the screen.
Her interest was piqued, and she put her sandwich back on the plate.
The camera left the billboard to focus on the reporter who