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“I wish Shaye hadn’t been just passing through.”
“The girl from today? She seemed nice. So you liked her?”
He nodded, then scooped the diced cucumbers into the bowl. “I did. She was funny and nice and smart. But she didn’t stay.” He smiled at his sister. “Kidnapping is not a culturally acceptable way to get a date.”
His sister laughed. “Was she kidnapworthy?”
“Maybe. I should have kissed her.”
“Wow. You don’t usually move that fast.”
“I don’t usually meet someone like her.” He thought about how easily they’d talked all through lunch and how much fun they’d had at the bookstore. “I should have kissed her,” he repeated, wishing he had. Wishing he’d said . . .
What? She’d wanted to leave. Maybe she hadn’t felt what he had. Maybe he’d just been a way to pass the time.
“I know I should let it go,” he said. “And I will. I just don’t like regrets.”
“You need to start dating.”
“So you’ve said. I know nearly every age-appropriate woman in Wishing Tree, and none of them are for me.”
“Go online.”
“I prefer meeting someone in person.”
“You’re stubborn.”
He grinned at her. “It’s a family trait.”
“Yes, I know.” Her humor faded. “I’m sorry about Shaye.”
“Me, too. But there’s someone for everybody. I still believe that.”
“I do, too. You’re a great guy. I bet right this second, Shaye’s feeling some regrets of her own.”
Lawson hoped that was true, although regrets didn’t make much difference when Shaye was a hundred and fifty miles away.
Chapter Three
Shaye looked at the directions Toby had given her. There was something odd about the street names. Half of them seemed to be trees while the other half were holiday-related. She was to take White Pine Street, cross West Mistletoe Way and turn on Jolly Drive.
“Crazy town,” she muttered as she got into her truck. But crazy in a nice way. Maybe quirky was a better word.
She pulled out of the parking lot and drove along White Pine. When she got to Jolly Drive, she saw a block of stunning Victorian houses. Some were massive, but a few were more normal-sized. The biggest one had a sign out in front. Wishing Tree Bed and Breakfast. Two doors down was the house she was looking for. She parked in front, then grabbed her handbag and started for the front door.
As she approached, she took in the wide front porch, complete with a couple of wicker chairs and a swing. The planter beds were overflowing with blooming flowers and were decorated with little ceramic forest creatures.
The house was three stories, with big windows and plenty of detail in the white shutters and trim. The deep blue paint color was only a few shades darker than the sky.
She knocked on the front door. It opened almost immediately.
“You must be Shaye,” the older woman said with a smile. “I’m Kathy. Come on in.”
Kathy was probably in her late sixties with shoulder-length brown hair and a lean build. She had on a three-quarter-sleeve T-shirt over crop pants and bright fuchsia sandals. Her toenails were painted the same color.
Shaye had a brief impression of a beautiful, formal living room and a dining room with a period-appropriate chandelier before she was led into a completely modern kitchen. Kathy motioned to the bar stools at the island.
“Toby said you’re looking for a room to rent,” she said as she pulled a pitcher of what looked like lemonade out of the refrigerator.
