Still, she continued imagining a steamy kiss but then inhaled sharply. Dear lord. She put the back of her hand to her forehead and suddenly felt warm all over. She was glad for the slowly moving fan. She considered getting up to tug the chain for more of a breeze but that would require moving and she couldn’t muster up the energy. She needed one of those remotes, but the fan had been purchased secondhand and had one of those old-school chains, which she always tugged more times than needed or not enough.
Savannah wondered if someone like Tristan could ever fall madly in love with her like the heroes in so many of her favorite books and movies. “Not likely,” she whispered, giving in to a tired sigh, but she grinned slightly thinking that, hey, this was her fantasy so she might as well go all the way. What I need is a fairy godmother, Savannah thought, and then turned onto her side, still hugging the pillow. Oh yeah, and a generous sprinkling of pixie dust.
Savannah yawned. Maybe she would just stay inside after all. She guessed that her lethargy had been brought on by her lack of sleep, and she suddenly felt very tired. Blinking, she decided a little cat nap might restore her energy and hopefully her good humor. Like she’d already told Kate, Tristan was light-years out of her league, and unfortunately there wasn’t a magic wand that could change that situation. I’m not Cinderella, she thought, and my life sure isn’t a fairy tale, even though she loved reading them. But in reality, wishing on a star, like giving in to tears, was wasted energy, which was why she supposed she was so darned exhausted. Of course, it could have something to do with the massive housecleaning she did yesterday—if she had silver, it would have been polished. Combine her
cleaning frenzy with lack of sleep and it was no wonder she was bone tired.
Savannah yawned again and then hugged the fluffy pillow closer, squishing it against her chest. A wave of loneliness washed over her and her eyelids suddenly felt heavy.
Think happy thoughts
filtered into her brain, and she tried, but after a few moments she drifted off to sleep.…
Savannah dreamed that Peter Pan landed on her windowsill but she refused to
believe
and so he and Wendy flew away, leaving her behind calling after them. Not to be outdone, Savannah hoisted herself up to the windowsill and decided that she would fly by herself but Kate came along at the last minute and saved her from surely breaking her leg or worse. She was just about to convince Kate that they should at least give flying a whirl when the bed moved and then something soft and wet tickled her cheek.
“Mmm?” Savannah sort of woke up but decided this might be a delicious dream involving Tristan so she kept her eyes closed and dearly hoped the dream would continue. This was likely as close as she was going to get to the real thing so she sighed and waited for another moist kiss. Maybe a sweet nothing murmured into her ear. The warm tickle happened again but felt more like a tongue licking across her chin. This didn’t seem like a very Tristan-like thing to do and, oh god, his breath needed a good freshening up.…Wow; this dream sucked, she thought, and it happened again but this time across her nose.
Savannah opened her eyes and was suddenly face-to-face with brown eyes, a big mouth, and there came the tongue again! “No!” she yelled and sat up so fast that her pillow buddy went tumbling to the floor. “How on earth did you get in here?” she shouted.
“The door was open.”
“What?” Savannah looked over to see Tristan standing in the doorway to her bedroom. He was holding a bottle of wine and looking concerned. Wait. Was this still a dream? Her answer came when Willie farted. “Ew, Willie!” She
pinched her nose with her thumb and finger. “That was Willie,” Savannah said in a nasal tone, wanting Tristan to be sure that the dog was the culprit.
Willie, the guilty licker and farter, sat there staring at Tristan with a solemn basset hound expression but then edged closer to Savannah, as if staking his territory.
“You smell.”
“I assure you I showered.”
“I was talking to Willie.”
Tristan raised his eyebrows. “I guess I should be relieved.”
“People talk to dogs, you know.”
“You seem to take it to a new level.”
“My rather loud vocal reaction was in response to having my face licked,” she explained but then felt heat creep into her cheeks. “I have no idea how he ended up in my bed.” She gave Willie an accusing look but he stood, or rather sat, his ground.
“Lucky dog.”
“I…uh…” Savannah stuttered. Was he flirting with her?
“I can answer for Willie,” Tristan said. He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe looking all calm, cool, and handsome as all get out. “Your back screen door was ajar.”
“Oh, the latch is broken and the breeze blows it open once in a while. I guess you thought it was an open invitation,” she said to Willie, but then looked over at Tristan. “I guess you did too.”
“I’m sorry.” Tristan shook his head. “I’m not usually in the habit of entering uninvited but your car was in the driveway and after several knocks you failed to answer the door.”
“Sorry. I didn’t hear you. I was…resting.” Savannah flipped what was left of her braid over her shoulder. God, she must look a sight. And he of course had to stand there looking amazing in khaki shorts and a baby blue golf shirt that stretched across wide shoulders and hugged his biceps.
He looked fit and energetic, and she had been caught napping in the middle of the day. She felt like a slug. “I guess I dozed off for a minute.”
“Don’t look so guilty. I love a good nap.”
Savannah swallowed when his innocent comment made her imagine him all sleepy and ruffled and shirtless in a big bed.
With her in it.
Dear lord. Savannah prayed that what she was thinking wasn’t written all over her face. She cleared her throat and tried to think of something to say…but what does one say in a situation such as this?
“I’m really sorry for intruding.” Tristan straightened and showed her the bottle. “I was bringing you this. It’s Cupcake wine but called Red Velvet. I thought you might like to sample it. You know, since you’re thinking of doing a wine tasting here.”
Savannah put a hand to her chest. “Oh…”
“Seriously, I wouldn’t have barged right into your home but I heard you yell ‘no’ and then ‘how did you get in here?’ and I got worried that you were”—he grinned slightly—“once again in peril. I had my karate chop ready.”
“You know karate?”
“Hell no, but I was willing to bluff my way for your safety.” Tristan gave Willie a nod. “I think I could take him.”
“Willie’s a licker not a fighter.” She patted his head and then glanced at Tristan, who looked as if he wanted to say something but then thought better of it. “See there?” Savannah patted Willie’s head. “You got me in trouble again.”
Willie looked at her with his usual sorry but somehow innocent expression. She imagined if Willie could talk he would sound just like Eeyore from
Winnie-the-Pooh
.
“Were you chasing after another tennis ball, Willie? You’d better skedaddle on
home
.” When she gave Willie a pointed look he scrambled from the bed, taking a few pillows with him. For such a short-legged, hefty dog, he managed to leap with some agility, even though he grunted
when he landed not-so-gracefully with a tuck and roll, and looked up at them as if to say, “I meant to do that.” When Miss Patty called Willie’s name the naughty dog picked up the pace and hurried on his short legs past Tristan, who watched the dog’s progress with a grin. “You’d better hustle!”
“See, you’re talking to Willie again.”
“Yeah…” Savannah grinned. “And I talk to myself, to the television, to my plants.”
“Does it help them grow?”
“I think so,” she answered earnestly, but then shook her head at his amused expression. “I guess I’m some kind of crazy.”
Tristan chuckled. “Well, don’t change,” he said and then held out the bottle as if he needed to remind Savannah of the reason for his visit. “I’m really
not
in the habit of entering without an invitation. But in my defense you did seem in distress.”
“Um, yeah, I was! Willie’s breath is not one bit sweet.” She shuddered. “I almost needed an oxygen mask.”
When Tristan laughed Savannah joined him, but he then stood there for an awkward moment. “I’ll just leave this on your kitchen table. Let me know if you like it,” he said, pausing just long enough to make Savannah think he might want to stay.
“Have a glass with me,” Savannah offered before her nerve took a flying leap out the window. “Unless…you know, you have somewhere to go,” she added in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone. Her heart pounded.
“Um…” He hesitated for a fraction, making Savannah want to pull the covers over her head. God, she must have read him all wrong.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“Really?” Oh great, she thought,
that
was sophisticated.
“R
EALLY.” TRISTAN KNEW FULL WELL THAT HE SHOULD
leave the wine and walk out the door, but seeing Savannah in the middle of her bed looking sleepy-eyed and sexy had him jumping all over her invitation. It was all he could do not to slide right into bed next to her. She’d been invading his thoughts ever since Friday, even though he knew he should stay the hell away. He’d actually almost called her a number of times but had put the phone down, knowing it was best not to, and yet here he was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Go figure. “I had actually gone to the liquor store for a six-pack of beer, but saw this Cupcake wine on an end cap and thought you might like it.”
“Why, thank you, Tristan.” “She gave him an easy smile that he found adorable.
“No problem.” Tristan excelled at making a point and winning an argument, and he prided himself on his prowess in the courtroom, but he found everyday interaction with people more of a challenge. Savannah, on the other hand, exuded a natural kind of confidence that he admired. He
could definitely learn a thing or two from watching her in action.
“That was very thoughtful of you.”
Tristan gave her a slight shrug, again a bit at a loss for words. He also left out the part that the trip to the store had been last night and he’d almost come over then but somehow managed to talk himself out of it. Well that, and a phone call from a partner in his firm that had delayed him an hour. They were already gunning to get him back in Cincinnati. The conversation had left him feeling unsettled and so he had given up on the idea of heading over to see Savannah.
“I’ll go round up some glasses,” she said and scrambled from the bed. Her hair was a mess, she didn’t appear as if she had a trace of makeup on, and was in ratty clothes…and damned if she didn’t look sexier than he had been imagining all weekend long. As he followed her down the short hallway he couldn’t keep his eyes off her very nice ass. Tristan had also tried to convince himself that bringing the wine over was another excuse to walk around in Whisper’s Edge and get a bead on what he wanted to do with the property but he knew he was kidding himself. He wanted to see Savannah, plain and simple.
He’d been drinking a bit on Friday, and to be honest, he wanted to know if seeing Savannah would have the same effect when he was stone-cold sober. Because, really, she was completely different from the other women he’d dated. Tristan had been living in a world of sharp angles and glossy veneer, and Savannah oozed an earthiness and sweet honesty that felt like a soft place to land. Her bright smile and laid-back demeanor had a calming effect on him that made being with her simply feel good.
Tristan watched Savannah pull open a drawer stuffed full of all kinds of gadgets. Somehow she didn’t strike him as a gadget kind of person.
“I know I have a corkscrew in here somewhere. More
than one, I imagine,” she mumbled as she pushed things around.
“That’s quite a junk drawer. Do you use all that stuff?”
“No.” Savannah chuckled. “I don’t know what most of this stuff is for,” she admitted, and then found a corkscrew. “Here we go! Would you do the honors?”
“Sure,” he said and then cut through the foil.
“I get lots of gifts from the residents,” she explained. She reached in and pulled out a tiny little scoop. “This is to make melon balls. I’ve never made melon balls. I don’t think I want to make a melon ball.” She showed him a weird-looking little tube. “An olive stuffer.”
“How does it work?”
“Don’t have a clue. Let’s see, here is a celery slicer. I used it once but it was more effort than it was worth, just like this egg slicer. Oh, and here’s a lemon press.” She frowned as she turned it over. “I think.”
Tristan popped the cork. “Why do you think they give you all of that stuff?”
Savannah shrugged, but then grinned. “Well, some of it is regifting. Many of them are of the age that their kids don’t have a clue as to what presents to buy them for holidays and birthdays so they get some random, weird stuff. I can’t ever go for a visit or dinner that I don’t come away with something in my hand.” She chuckled. “Some of it is stuff they buy from catalogs or online and then never take out of the box.” Her smile softened. “And some of it is just pure kindness. A thrift-store find or something on sale that reminds them of me. And don’t get me wrong—I love it. I might not ever use some of the gifts but I’m always touched by the thoughtfulness. Kind of like your flying pigs.” Savannah raised an eyebrow at Tristan and gestured toward the drawer. “But this is the small stuff.”
“You’re kidding.”
She raised her hand and started ticking off items. “Nope. I have a yogurt maker. A bread maker. A FryDaddy.” She tapped her cheek. “Let’s see, oh, and an iced-tea brewer.
And of course, a George Foreman grill. Some of the stuff comes from Kate, who suffers from insomnia and buys wacky things in the middle of the night. I will soon be the proud owner of a juicer.”
“And you never kindly say, ‘thanks, but no, thanks’?” he asked, and watched with some male appreciation when she had to go up on tiptoe to reach for some wineglasses.
Savannah came back down on her heels and turned to face him. “Well, when you grow up with nothing, you never turn down anything for free.” She angled her head. “And I do use some of it…granted sometimes only once, but the main reason is to see the joy on their faces when I oooh and aaah over something. Kindness goes a long way, in my book. I just don’t get mean people, do you? I mean, what’s the point?”