hose.”
“Believe me, the lady doesn’t need any help.”
Ashby hooted with laughter. “A woman got you? What’d you do to deserve it?”
“Nothing.”
“Doubt it,” Ashby shot back. “What happened to your famous charm with the ladies? Losing your touch? Joining the ranks of us mere mortals?”
“All right, enough. I don’t have to take this kind of abuse from you when I can get it from a pretty redhead.”
“A redhead? Okay, I’m interested. Now spill.”
Mark ground his palms into his eyes. “There isn’t much to tell. I met a girl at the airport, she showed up on my tour yesterday, and we walked around for a while afterwards.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, the award for most boring pick up story ever goes to Mark Dering!”
“Very funny. I told you there wasn’t much to it.”
Ashby parked in Mark’s driveway and turned to face him. “Sorry, but you’re wrong. I’ve never seen you so twisted up after spending what—a couple of hours with a girl? Something’s going on.”
“Yeah.” That was the crazy thing. “I barely know this woman, but I can’t stop thinking about her. You haven’t even heard the strangest part. She lives in New York. She’s only here for a few days on work. Which means we have exactly less than a snowball’s chance in hell together. Why am I wasting my time thinking about her?”
They got out of the truck in silence and lugged the box onto his patio. Half an hour later (and after several arguments about proper placement to avoid lighting the magnolia tree on fire along with the burgers) the barbecue was set up. Mark got them a couple of beers and they relaxed into the matching green Adirondack chairs.
“Where were you for the last three months?” Ashby asked.
“What?”
Ashby took a long swig of beer. “Humor me. Play along.”
“Fine. I was in Cairo.”
“And where were you last summer?”
He’d have to pull out his passport to keep up with this conversation. “I don’t remember. I think it was San Francisco. What’s your point?”
“You barely live in Charleston as it is. Sure, you have a house here, but it’s mostly a place for your bills to land. Meanwhile, here’s the first woman in years who manages to tie you up in knots in less than a day. What difference does it make where she lives? I say go for it.”
It was an interesting point of view. Mark just wasn’t convinced a couple of hours made it worth planning to rearrange his life. And wondered why Ashby was so willing to ship him off again. “You really worried I’m going to distract all the Charleston hotties from you?”
“No man, I’m serious. And for the record, nothing distracts a woman once I set my radar on her. But you have a house, a job you like—seems like the only piece of the puzzle you’re missing is the right woman.”
Mark took a long drink from his bottle, and then another. “Guess Jillian really did underestimate us. Today’s apparently our day to bond and share. And I’ll take your advice on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“We never speak of this again.”
Annabelle sprawled across the huge four poster bed. A magnolia scented breeze wafted from her balcony through the white lace curtains. It was a relaxing, heady scent, and she closed her eyes for a moment to fully enjoy it. The minutes ticked by until the discomfort of being fully clothed roused her. It was a huge effort to tug off her shorts and undo her shirt. She unfastened her ponytail and tousled her hair, the curls extra springy from the humidity. With her last ounce of energy, she nudged a pillow under her aching feet.
On the way back to her room, she’d constructed a mental list of goals for the evening: undress, nap, dine on Mrs. Haley’s sure-to-be-sublime roast chicken, and then call it a night. Simple pleasures, but she knew she deserved the night of rest. Her day had been comprised of three restored mansions, two more museums, a dungeon, four churches, and ended with a boat
“Believe me, the lady doesn’t need any help.”
Ashby hooted with laughter. “A woman got you? What’d you do to deserve it?”
“Nothing.”
“Doubt it,” Ashby shot back. “What happened to your famous charm with the ladies? Losing your touch? Joining the ranks of us mere mortals?”
“All right, enough. I don’t have to take this kind of abuse from you when I can get it from a pretty redhead.”
“A redhead? Okay, I’m interested. Now spill.”
Mark ground his palms into his eyes. “There isn’t much to tell. I met a girl at the airport, she showed up on my tour yesterday, and we walked around for a while afterwards.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, the award for most boring pick up story ever goes to Mark Dering!”
“Very funny. I told you there wasn’t much to it.”
Ashby parked in Mark’s driveway and turned to face him. “Sorry, but you’re wrong. I’ve never seen you so twisted up after spending what—a couple of hours with a girl? Something’s going on.”
“Yeah.” That was the crazy thing. “I barely know this woman, but I can’t stop thinking about her. You haven’t even heard the strangest part. She lives in New York. She’s only here for a few days on work. Which means we have exactly less than a snowball’s chance in hell together. Why am I wasting my time thinking about her?”
They got out of the truck in silence and lugged the box onto his patio. Half an hour later (and after several arguments about proper placement to avoid lighting the magnolia tree on fire along with the burgers) the barbecue was set up. Mark got them a couple of beers and they relaxed into the matching green Adirondack chairs.
“Where were you for the last three months?” Ashby asked.
“What?”
Ashby took a long swig of beer. “Humor me. Play along.”
“Fine. I was in Cairo.”
“And where were you last summer?”
He’d have to pull out his passport to keep up with this conversation. “I don’t remember. I think it was San Francisco. What’s your point?”
“You barely live in Charleston as it is. Sure, you have a house here, but it’s mostly a place for your bills to land. Meanwhile, here’s the first woman in years who manages to tie you up in knots in less than a day. What difference does it make where she lives? I say go for it.”
It was an interesting point of view. Mark just wasn’t convinced a couple of hours made it worth planning to rearrange his life. And wondered why Ashby was so willing to ship him off again. “You really worried I’m going to distract all the Charleston hotties from you?”
“No man, I’m serious. And for the record, nothing distracts a woman once I set my radar on her. But you have a house, a job you like—seems like the only piece of the puzzle you’re missing is the right woman.”
Mark took a long drink from his bottle, and then another. “Guess Jillian really did underestimate us. Today’s apparently our day to bond and share. And I’ll take your advice on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“We never speak of this again.”
Annabelle sprawled across the huge four poster bed. A magnolia scented breeze wafted from her balcony through the white lace curtains. It was a relaxing, heady scent, and she closed her eyes for a moment to fully enjoy it. The minutes ticked by until the discomfort of being fully clothed roused her. It was a huge effort to tug off her shorts and undo her shirt. She unfastened her ponytail and tousled her hair, the curls extra springy from the humidity. With her last ounce of energy, she nudged a pillow under her aching feet.
On the way back to her room, she’d constructed a mental list of goals for the evening: undress, nap, dine on Mrs. Haley’s sure-to-be-sublime roast chicken, and then call it a night. Simple pleasures, but she knew she deserved the night of rest. Her day had been comprised of three restored mansions, two more museums, a dungeon, four churches, and ended with a boat
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