Page 99 of The Treasure House

He smiled but didn’t say anything. A little later, we did the dishes together, him washing and me drying, without saying a word. And when he went to leave, he pressed me against the wall and kissed me until I couldn’t remember how to breathe. His hands cradled my head and his legs bracketed mine; I was cocooned in his embrace as he ravished my mouth with his. I didn’t know kisses like this existed in real life. They’d always seemed the stuff of romance novels and old films. But here I was swooning, unable to stand without his support, and all because of a kiss.

By the time he pulled away, my lips were deliciously swollen and my whole body was languid with pleasure. He stroked my jaw with his thumb and then pressed a gentler kiss on my forehead. I knew he was saying goodnight, even though he didn’t utter a word.

“Hey,” I called as Jake trotted down the front steps with Hazel in tow.

He turned, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I was still tingling from his kiss. “Seeing as how I don’t have any kid to look after, I was wondering if I could buy you dinner? Maybe in Rockport or Camden?”

He broke into a half smile. “Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.” I cleared my throat. “We can talk about the weather.”

“We can talk about anything you want,” he said, his voice husky. “Goodnight, Zoe.”

The way he said my name made it sound like an endearment. “Goodnight, Jake.”

Hazel barked.

“Goodnight, Hazel!” I laughed.

“Go inside, or you’ll freeze,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he walked home, he looked back at me. More than once.

Twenty-Two

Flo got me a front-row seat to the school play.

“You’re seriously not going to want to miss this,” she’d promised me.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any lines?”

“I don’t,” she said, with another one of those classic eye rolls. “You know I don’t. What dog talks and sings?”

“Goofy.”

“Well, I’m the Pluto kind of dog, not the Goofy kind of dog.”

It was the first week of December and the icy coastal towns were festooned with lights. We hadn’t had snow yet but there was plenty of ice and frost, which made driving a little alarming. I was glad when Jake offered to drive me to the play. He kissed me thoroughly when I slid into his pickup truck next to him.

“I like your Christmas display, by the way,” I teased him, as we turned the corner onto Beach Road. He had a big plastic lobster on his balcony facing the road. It was lit up and he’d put a Santa hat on it.

“Thanks. And where are your lights?”

“I haven’t untangled them yet.”

He groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re using Mom’s old lights.”

“Sure I am. I’m not made of money.”

We’d skated around the topic of his mom the past couple of weeks. I tried not to ask too many questions, and he tried not to shut down and stonewall me. Mostly we avoided the topic. He seemed content to come help fix up the house, so long as he didn’t have to drag up the past, so I let it lie. I figured he’d tell me when he was ready.

Our “dating,” if that’s what it was, seemed very slow moving. Since Flo had come home, he came for dinner a couple of times a week, and he was around doing jobs on the house as much as ever. There were a lot of stolen kisses, pressed up against walls behind doors, out of Flo’s line of vision. And there were a lot of wandering hands and a lot of lusty looks. But not much else. Because Flo.

I’d only dated a few men in the past five years or so, and she’d hated it every single time. I was in no hurry to walk into that mess again, at least not before I’d enjoyed myself a little more. And I was pent up enough to jump Jake right here in the pickup. Except we had to get to the play.

“Have you ever seen the film version of Annie?” I asked him, as I played with the hair at the nape of his neck.