Chapter Eleven

Wildflowers, a riot of yellow, red, and white, lined the long drive leading to Dale’s father’s house. Farmland stood to both sides of the highway, herds of cows dotted the scrubby fields, and fields of corn were broken up by plots of soybeans. They passed a field filled with pumpkin vines.

“Graber’s still do pick-your-own pumpkins?” Mai rubbed the edge of her bandage where the skin itched.

“Yeah. They’ve expanded it. Hayrides, games for the kids, a big slide. Food trucks on Saturday.” Dale flicked the turn signal on.

She turned onto a dirt road and slowed to a crawl as dust flared along the side of the truck. A two-story house painted barn red with dark-blue shutters and a wrap-around porch surrounded by tidy beds of roses sat at the end of the lane. An oak tree taller than the house with a tire swing suspended by a ratty gray rope shaded the front lawn. Mai rolled the edge of her T-shirt between her fingers and chewed her lip.

Dale parked behind a black jeep with an “if you can read this, I’m upside down” sticker on the back. “My dad’s a bit much, no filter, but he’s been the best.”

Mai huffed out a breath. Why am I worried about her dad? Hell, it’s not like we’re dating. “My grandpa had zero chill. I’m good.” She opened her door and stepped out of the truck.

Dale led them around the house to a white-painted workshop with three bays. “This was the old carriage house. My dad converted it into a workshop when he moved here after my mom died.”

The first bay was open and the sounds of Pavarotti singing “Nessun dorma” played. They entered the cool interior. A tall man rose from the stool he had been sitting on. His hair was a cloud of white above a ruddy face and his beard was plaited in three tight braids secured with black bands. Tinted glasses hid his eyes, and a faded pale green T-shirt with “Age of Asparagus” emblazoned on the front hung off his gaunt frame. A broad grin split his face. “Dale!” He set aside a small hand plane.

“Who’s your friend?” He stuck his hand out. “Eli Miller.”

“Mai Li. Nice to meet you.”

His grip was warm, and he pumped her arm twice before he dropped it. “Let me turn my music down.”

Mai spun in a slow circle and marveled at the display of tools and guitars in various stages of completion. “This is amazing. I’ve never seen a guitar workshop.”

Dale waved toward another part of the workshop. “Guitars and mandolins. He has a partner who works the renaissance fairs to sell them.”

Eli returned and draped his arm over Dale’s shoulder. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?” He turned to Mai and looked her over. “You’re not her usual type. Too much sincerity rolling off you.”

Dale moved from under her father’s arm. “Dad. For fuck’s sake. We aren’t dating.” She walked over to the stool and sat down and glared at her father. “Are you high?”

“That’s strictly medicinal, and you know I don’t smoke when I’m working.”

Mai bristled at Dale’s outrage at her father’s suggestion they might be dating. Emergency room touches and long glances notwithstanding, she knew where she stood with ever dating Dale Miller. She studied the dusty toes of her skate shoes.

“No? Well that’s a damn shame.” Eli brushed his hands together.

“She’s the big renovation I told you about. She’s staying with us and she’s teaching Noah to cook. Didn’t Thomas tell you?”

“If it doesn’t involve numbers that boy doesn’t tell me nothing. Well then, Mai Li, who is not dating my daughter, what can I do for you?” His gaze landed on Mai’s bandaged hand. “Break your hand in a bar fight?”

Mai guffawed. “Nah. Lost a fight with a kitchen knife. Noah said you had a two-burner camp stove. Would you be willing to lend it to me?”

“Going camping? Dale loves to camp.”

Dale groaned and hid her face in her hands. “Give it a rest, Dad.”

“I want to use it for the farmer’s market to set up an omelet stand.”

“I heard the crepe lady took off back to France. Pity. They were the best crepes I’ve ever had. You make crepes?” He peered at Mai over the rims of his glasses. His eyes were a piercing blue.

“I can. But I make better omelets.” Mai shifted back and forth on her feet. “I can rent it or buy it.”

Eli rubbed his hand over his beard. “I’m seeing a special lady right now. Would you trade me a fancy dinner for the use of the cooktop? You wouldn’t have to stay to serve. Just drop it off and then make yourself scarce.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Done.” Mai held out her hand and Eli shook it. “You do text?”

Eli straightened. “I’m old but I’m not dead.” He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Let’s trade numbers. Send me the date you want me to cook and a list of what you want me to make for your seduction dinner.”

“Oh my God, you’re as bad as he is.” Dale jingled her car keys.

Eli tilted his head toward the door of the shop. “Cooktop’s in the shed.” He led them out to a tin-roofed outbuilding. He pulled a clump of keys from his pocket and sorted through them for the key to the rusty lock. Swinging the door wide, he gestured to a tarp in the corner. “It’s under there.” He turned to Dale. “Go get your truck so you don’t have to carry it so far.”

Dale turned to go and turned back. She shot a hard look at her father. “Behave, Dad.” She stalked away from them.

Mai stared at her and wondered at her anger. If her mother had been accepting at all when she came out, Mai would have done cartwheels. And never left.

“Don’t let her anger put you off.” Eli’s quiet whisper startled Mai from her thoughts.

She turned to him. He had taken his glasses off and was cleaning them on his shirt.

“She’s been burnt. More than once. That idiot she married did her a favor when he run off. But she’s not fared much better with women. My girl might be a brilliant contractor but she’s lousy at picking partners. After the last one.” He grimaced. “After she bailed with Dale’s money, she’s shut herself off.”

Mai shrugged. “We’re not dating. You saw how she reacted when you even suggested it.”

Eli put his glasses back on. “I know my daughter. She’s mad because I said what she’s wishing for and is too afraid to want.”

A cloud of dust and the crunch of tires on dirt announced the arrival of the truck.

Mai chewed her lip. “I think she’s seeing someone right now.”

“No one she’s bought out here.”

“We needed the cooktop.”

“Uh huh. Or let stay in her home. Or let anywhere near her sons.”

Mai turned over all the things Eli had said. A spark of hope flickered in her chest. She turned and watched Dale as she lowered the pickup’s tailgate and spread a tarp over the bed.

Eli’s broad palm rested on her shoulder and he squeezed lightly. “Come on. Let’s get this thing loaded.”

*

“Want some popcorn?” Noah stood and stretched.

“Yes, please.”

“You want another beer to go with it?”

“Noah Jerome, I can’t believe you don’t already know the answer to that.”

“Got it.” Noah picked up Dale’s empty beer bottle from the end table and carried it with him to the kitchen. Dale shifted on the couch and tucked her legs up under her as she searched for Fight Club.

The back door banged open and she startled, dropping the remote. The rich murmur of Mai’s voice made her nipples half hard. Why? Why does she have to be so fucking sexy? Dale snatched up the remote, grabbed a couch pillow, and clutched it to her chest, worried her traitorous nipples would betray her.

Mai strode into the living room. Her hair was slicked back and her skin glistened. Dale swallowed hard and forced herself to look away from Mai’s muscular thighs displayed by her running shorts.

“Hey, Noah invited me to watch Fight Club. You okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t crashing any family time.”

“You’re welcome to watch with us, and we should be asking you.”

“Why?” Mai swiped a hand over her forehead and the beads of sweat there.

“We’re sitting on your bed.” Dale gestured to the couch.

Mai laughed. “It’s fine. I need to shower. Save me some popcorn?”

“Sure.”

Mai walked away. Dale stared, openly admiring the way the shimmery fabric moved over Mai’s ass. She watched until Mai made the turn into Dale’s bedroom and she could no longer see her.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the couch. The scent of hot oil and popcorn filled the air as Noah worked his magic in the kitchen. What the fuck am I going to do? I can’t do this. Not again. Dale held tight to the pillow and gave over to all her fears. Why is she so worried about money? And where is Yvonne? Mai hadn’t said and Dale was too much of a coward to ask. Dale envied Yvonne, as she imagined what it would be like to have a partner as who worked as hard as Mai, someone as considerate of Yvonne’s needs now and in the future.

“Mom?” Noah’s voice startled her, and Dale opened her eyes to her son holding a giant bowl of popcorn and a dark-brown bottle of beer.

“Thanks, sweetie.” Dale took the beer and avoided Noah’s eyes. Her youngest son was sensitive to her moods, had no filter, and if there was anything she didn’t want to talk about right now it was her feelings.

“You wanna wait for Mai?” Noah plopped down on the couch next to her.

Dale took a long pull on her beer. “Yes.”

“Me too.” Noah stuffed a large handful of popcorn in his mouth.

*

Dale’s long legs draped in soft black lounge pants did nothing for Mai’s concentration. Grateful for Noah’s constant chatter as they watched Fight Club for what must be the hundredth time in Mai’s life, she sipped her beer and took advantage of the dim light to study Dale’s profile. Dale’s soft laugher as she watched Helena Bonham Carter’s antics on the screen melted Mai’s heart.

Dale’s hair was held back by a wide black band and the lustrous strands gathered at the back of her neck. The elegant nape of her neck begged for kisses and Mai’s mouth watered as she imagined kissing her way along the smooth column of her throat and nibbling her delicate earlobe. Mai had caught sight of her neat toes, painted a pale shade of pink, before Dale tucked them under her. Now Dale’s feet were tucked up on the couch and her shins pressed against Mai’s thigh and hip, as they all crowded together on the couch.

Mai’s body burned with Dale’s closeness. Didn’t she notice? Maybe she did. Maybe that’s why she had become more relaxed around Mai. Had even taken to getting up earlier to eat the breakfast Mai prepared for her. No. She likes my cooking. It’s not me. She doesn’t like me like that. Her mind flitted back to Dale’s dating profile. She’s looking to hook up. If I had her once and nothing more it would kill me. A wave of guilt washed over Mai. And Noah. He would get his hopes up for nothing.

Mai loved Noah, liked she loved Yvonne. He had a zeal for cooking that matched her own. It was like having a little brother. The one Mai had begged for as a child. It was years before she understood Yvonne’s birth had almost killed her mother.

She had planned on sitting on the opposite end of the couch with Noah between them but somehow Noah had managed to have her between him and his mother. His unsubtle attempts at matchmaking between her and Dale were sweet and infuriating.

Mai was not stupid enough to believe Dale had not noticed. She flushed, unable to avert her gaze when Dale leaned over to pick up her beer. Her loose V-neck shirt pulled open, offering an unfettered glimpse of the smooth curves of her breasts.

Noah’s guffaw at the action on the screen startled Mai and she refocused her gaze on the television.

“I don’t care how many times I’ve seen this. It still makes me laugh.” Noah held out the bowl of popcorn and shook it, rattling the unpopped kernels. “You want I should make some more?”

“I’m good.” Mai leaned back and stretched her arms.

“Mom?”

“I’ve had plenty. You want us to pause the movie?”

“Nah. I could recite it.” Noah shuffled out of the living room carrying the popcorn bowl and his pop and their empty beer bottles.

Mai chewed her lip. The silence between her and Dale was deafening. She could hear Noah’s movements in the kitchen as he cleaned up.

“How’d your date go the other night?” Mai knotted her fingers together.

Dale grimaced. “I’ve had better times at the dentist.”

Mai covered her mouth to hide her grin. “That bad?”

“Voice like nails on a chalkboard and vapid. I asked her to tell me something about herself and she said, ‘I like white wine because it has less calories.’ After that I faked a headache and asked for the check.”

Mai chewed her lip. “It’s rough out there. It’s hard to tell anything by a profile.”

Dale pursed her lips. “That it is. It’s better if you can meet someone, you know, and then figure out if you want to ask them out. Not much of a dating pool here.”

Mai frowned. “I guess not.”

“I mean. Well, of course. I didn’t mean…” Dale bolted off the couch and shoved her feet into her slippers. “Is that the time? Damn, I have an early day tomorrow.” She moved away from the couch. “Noah! I’m going to bed and you should too. It’s a school night.”

Noah peeked around the archway. “Got it. There’s like ten minutes left in the movie, Mom. I’ll go up then.”

Dale waved at the two of them before she hurried down the hall toward her bedroom.

Noah sat down as the credits rolled, giggling at the outtakes. “The outtakes are epic.” He leaned back and spread his arms along the back of the couch. “What’d you guys talk about? Mom looked freaked when she left.”

“Dating.” Mai pulled her feet up on the couch and wrapped her arms around her thighs, hugging her legs to her chest.

Noah’s eyes brightened. “For real?”

“Not like that.” Mai hated the way his eyes shuttered. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound harsh. Your mom had a bad date last weekend and she was telling me about it. And how there’s not much of a ‘dating pool’ in the town.”

Noah looked away. “That sucks.”

It did. And that was okay. She hadn’t come here to find a partner. But it stung to know she wasn’t even on Dale’s radar.

*

The bedroom door closed with a sharp snick and Dale slumped against it. She groaned as she thought about her hurtful comment to Mai on the couch and the expression in Mai’s face. Way to go, Miller. Now she thinks you don’t even consider her date material. Fuck, what if she thinks it’s a race thing? Or a butch thing? Oh fuck.

She stormed into her bathroom, yanked the hairband from her hair, and tossed it on the counter. After taking her toothbrush from the stand, she pulled the toothpaste tube from the drawer. She squeezed the tube hard and overshot her toothbrush. “Fuck.”

After using her finger to scrape the blue-and-green striped gel off the sink, Dale wiped it on the bristles. She wet her finger and washed away the rest of the toothpaste as she brushed her teeth. She kept her gaze focused on the white porcelain of the sink and avoided the glass, too annoyed to even look at herself.

Dale grimaced when she thought of the number of dating profiles she had seen on the Hit Me Up app stating “no butches, no blacks, no Asians, no Hispanic.” She automatically swiped left on those profiles, no matter how much the other bits of the bio might appeal. It was an automatic pass on her list of criteria. And now after her tactless comment she might have given Mai the impression she was a jerk and a racist. Dale finished brushing her teeth. A quick scrub of her face with the washcloth and she was ready for bed.

In her room she could hear the muffled sounds of Noah and Mai talking in the living room. She crept to the door. Even with her ear pressed to the smooth wood she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Noah’s rumbling baritone faded, and Dale waited until she heard his heavy tread on the stairs before she opened the door to her room.

With light steps she walked back to the living room. Mai was lying on the couch under a blanket, her head propped up on pillows. The end table lamp was on low and a worn paperback blocked Dale’s view of Mai’s face.

Dale stopped with her hand on the archway wall. “Mai?”

Mai jerked. Her paperback fell to the floor and she stared at Dale. “You scared the hell out of me. The damn clown is about to get another kid.” She pressed her hand to her chest over her heart. “What?”

Dale walked to the couch and scooped up the paperback. “I’m sorry.” She passed the paperback to Mai. “I’m sorry about before too.” At Mai’s quizzical expression she continued. “I don’t want you to think I meant you when I was talking about the standard of the dating pool.”

“It’s fine.” Mai glanced down at her book. Her hands were white knuckled where she gripped the cover.

“No, it’s not. I think anyone would be lucky to date you.”

Mai’s eyebrows rose and held Dale’s gaze.

“And folks who don’t date people because of who they are, or how they look are ignorant.” Dale crossed her arms over her chest.

“Thanks for clearing that up.” Mai’s crooked grin fanned the fire in Dale’s heart to blaze. “I’m still a little tender. Charlene went out of her way to try and change how I am.” She sighed. “I don’t think she liked anything about me but my money.”

“I know how that feels.” Dale pushed her hair back with one hand, shoving aside memories of Molly. “Well, Charlene’s an idiot.” Dale held Mai’s gaze for a beat. “Good night.”

“See you at breakfast.” Mai picked up her book and opened it.

“Sleep well.” Dale walked back toward her bedroom. She stopped before she reached the hall and turned to find Mai staring at her. Their eyes locked and Dale’s heart rate sped up. Mai’s gaze burned and a tendril of desire twisted its way through Dale’s body. The urge to return to the couch, to press Mai back on to the cushions and kiss her, to lay over her and have her long lean body under her own stifled her. She twisted the hem of her T-shirt in her hands.

“Good night,” she called over her shoulder as she hustled away to the safety of her room.

Dale shut the door to her room and collapsed on her mattress. She scooted up, lifted her hips, and wiggled under the covers. With both hands she held the comforter tight to her chest. Thighs wet with want, her pulse loud in her ears, she replayed the scene in the living room in her head. Right or wrong she wanted Mai. She drew in a ragged breath. And if Mai’s expression was any indication Mai wanted her. No mistaking the hunger in her eyes.

Dale relaxed her grip on the sheets and closed her eyes. A random collage of images of Mai flashed through her mind. The sexy curve of her lips when she smiled, the way she was attentive when they talked, as if Dale was the only person in the world she wanted to listen to, and the way she was with Noah.

Noah had blossomed with Mai’s tutoring and her cooking lessons. Her caring and confidence had Dale hooked. And what was she going to do about it? Nothing. She was a client. And attached. To Yvonne. Dale had pushed aside jealous feelings more than once as she had caught snippets of Mai’s weekly phone calls to Yvonne. Not for me. She’s attached. Or about to be. What about a casual thing? No. Not that way. I’d hate to have the memory and the heartache. Better not to know.

Dale flopped to her side and drew her legs up, curling in on herself. She wouldn’t get Noah’s hopes up like that. Or her own.

*

Dale sipped her coffee and studied Mai from under her eyelashes as she and Noah worked on the week’s meal plan. She glanced up and Dale shifted her gaze, her face heating.

Mai drew her hand over her hair. “Where do you get your hair cut, Noah?”

Noah pointed his pencil at Dale. “Mom cuts it.”

“Really?”

“Guilty.” Dale took a bite of her sandwich.

Mai eyed Noah’s stylish cut and shifted her gaze back to Dale. “Would you cut mine?”

Dale finished her bite of sandwich. “I’d love to.” Mai’s raised eyebrow at Dale’s enthusiasm made her flush. “I mean if you’re okay with a basic cut.”

“I’m tired of being shaggy and afraid to cut it myself.”

Dale frowned. “Is it curly like Thomas’s? Or more wavy like Noah’s? If it’s like Thomas’s I can’t do it.”

“It’s like Noah’s when it grows out.” Mai leaned back in her seat. “Would you have time today?”

Dale pursed her lips and glanced at the clock. “Hot date?”

Mai avoided her eyes. “If you don’t have time, it’s fine.”

“I’ve got time if we do it now. Promise you won’t be upset if it’s not perfect?”

“Anything is better than this mess.”

Dale stood and carried her dishes to the sink. “I’ll get my stuff. Meet me on the porch. Bring a counter stool.”

*

Mai sat on the high stool. Dale draped a towel over her shoulders and clipped it in place.

“How do you want me to cut it?”

“Can you do a fade? Like skin on the sides and then longer on top?”

“I’ll do my best.” Dale rested her palms on Mai’s shoulders.

The heat from Dale’s body combined with the sensation of her fingers on Mai’s shoulder as she combed her fingers through her hair sent a ripple of want through Mai’s body. Her nipples hardened with the intimacy of Dale’s touch.

Dale started with the clippers. Working carefully, she shaved the sides and back of Mai’s head, tapering the cut toward the crown of Mai’s head. Mai pressed her lips together and focused on not asking Dale for a date. Dale worked silently and the buzz of the clippers was the only sound on the porch.

After Dale’s apology last evening and the expression on her face when she turned to look back at her, Mai had struggled with her desire to follow her down the hall to her bedroom. In her dreams, she had opened the door and kneeled at Dale’s feet, pressed kisses to the top of her manicured toes, and begged her for what she wanted. What she wished they both wanted.

Dale placed the clippers aside. She misted Mai’s hair before she started working on the top and front. Mai closed her eyes as the bits of hair fell.

“Hold still.” Dale brushed the loose hair from Mai’s face with a soft brush. “All good.”

Mai opened her eyes.

Dale passed a hand mirror to Mai. “Is this short enough?” She held another mirror behind Mai for her to check her reflection.

Mai lowered the glass and turned to Dale. “It’s fine.”

“So, your date will approve?”

“Do you?” The words burbled from Mai’s mouth before she could stop them.

Dale lowered the mirror she was holding. “What?”

“I don’t have a date, other than you invited me to come to the brew pub on Saturday.” The words tumbled from Mai’s mouth in a rush.

Dale’s hands rested on Mai’s shoulders a moment before she brushed her thumb over the short hairs at the back of Mai’s neck. “I like it this way.”

Mai’s breath caught and she stilled under Dale’s touch.

“Mom, Mrs. Haskin’s on the phone about her she-shed,” Noah shouted from inside the house.

“I’ll be right there.” Dale stepped back. “I have to take that.”

Mai hopped off the stool. “I’ll clean up. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Dale held Mai’s gaze a beat before she left.

Mai pulled the towel off and shook it out. Three swipes with the broom and she had cleaned the porch. After packing up Dale’s kit she ran her hand over her hair. Tiny bits of hair stuck to her palm as she touched the spot on her neck where Dale’s fingers had been. Hope, reckless and ridiculous, filled her heart.