CHAPTER SEVEN

Having a man in her home alone should have discomfited her, but her ease with Carson surprised Natalie. They’d talked and joked over pizza as if they’d done this a thousand times. She stepped into her sunroom and glanced at him to see his reaction.

He stared around the space. “Very nice. I see what you mean about whitewashing. The wood grain comes through it enough to give it texture.” He glanced at the floors. “You refinished these too?”

She shook her head. “I had them put down new. This used to be an enclosed porch. I had more windows put in and a floor laid. The knotty pine was already here, but I wanted it to feel open, light, and airy.”

“It does. I like the colors. The gray-greens are peaceful.”

It felt feminine to her, so she wasn’t sure how a man would like it. She indicated the cushions on the wicker furniture.

“Shelby made those for me for my birthday.”

“You have good friends.”

“I do.” She settled into the big chair, and he followed her lead and sat on the sofa. “I have coffee on. It should be ready in a few minutes.”

“I took the liberty of talking to Brian about Mia for you,” he said. “I hope you’re not offended.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. “You mean the custody issue?”

He nodded. “I know it was none of my business, but you need to do something, Nat.”

It inexplicably warmed her that he used her nickname.

“What did Brian say?”

“That Lisa abandoned Mia and hasn’t paid for any care for her, correct?”

She glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Mia wasn’t close enough to hear. “She never even calls or sends birthday or Christmas gifts. Mia hasn’t seen her since she was two weeks old.”

“You’re a remarkable woman.”

“Anyone would have done the same.” Though his praise made her flush, she couldn’t look away from the warmth in his gaze. What was happening here?

“I don’t think so. Most would have turned Mia over to Child Protective Services. So you’ve been her mom for five years. There shouldn’t be any trouble getting custody. Then Lisa can’t threaten you any longer.”

“I’ll make an appointment with Brian and get it started.

Thank you for that push. I needed it.”

“You’ve been shoving me lately. I thought I’d return the favor.” His grin told her he didn’t hold any grudges about it.

“I think it was Sawyer who changed your mind,” she said.

“Not me.”

Before he answered, the French door opened and Mia stepped through with a tray in her hands. “I brought you coffee, Aunt Nat. I wasn’t sure how you liked yours, Mr. Carson, so I brought sugar and cream.” She carefully balanced the tray as she came toward them.

“I’m not used to being waited on by such a pretty girl,”

Carson said. “I drink my coffee with cream, so you’re pretty and smart.”

Mia smiled and moved a little faster. Just when Natalie feared she might take a tumble and spill it, Carson took the tray from her hands.

“Looks like you’re going to join us for coffee?” He glanced at Natalie with a question in his eyes.

“She likes only a little coffee and a lot of cream,” she said.

“You’re corrupting her early.”

She took the cup he offered. “What? Coffee is a good antioxidant.”

They sipped from their cups in companionable silence.

Neither of them seemed to feel the need to fill the quiet with meaningless words.

“Want to watch a movie?” she asked.

“Finding Nemo!” Mia said.

“You’ve seen that movie a million times,” Natalie said.

“I’ve never seen it,” Carson said.

“Oh, you have to watch it,” Mia said. “I love the turtles.”

He glanced at his watch. “I have nowhere I have to be. If it’s okay with your mom.”

Natalie caught her breath at his slip of the tongue. She hadn’t said anything yet to Mia about her intentions.

But Mia just shook her head. “I wish Aunt Nat was my mom.”

She’d never said such a thing before. In the past she’d always just asked why her mother never came to see her. At first Natalie had assumed Lisa would return for her daughter any day. As the little girl grew old enough to understand, Natalie had been careful to show Mia pictures and to talk about her mother. But as the months turned to years, Mia had shown less and less interest in a woman she had never known.

“She’s a mom in every way that counts,” Carson said, rising from his seat. He took Mia’s hand. “Let’s see what Nemo and the turtles are up to.”

Natalie followed them into the living room and started the DVD player. The movie was already in it since Mia watched it so often. As the movie played, Natalie sneaked peeks at Carson’s obvious enjoyment of the little clown fish’s quest.

When the credits played, she told Mia to go get ready for bed and found Carson’s gaze on her when she glanced back at him. “What?” she asked.

“You’re a lot like Marlin,” he said. “You never give up, do you? And you’d die to protect those you love. I like that about you.”

He stepped forward and cupped her cheek in his hand. A surge of emotion welled in her at the touch of his lips on hers.

Her fingers clutched his shirt, and she kissed him back.

He was smiling when he lifted his head. “Can I take you out to eat one night when the craziness dies down? We can go to Burlington.”

“I’d like that,” she said, breathless.

When the door closed behind him, she sank onto the sofa, her knees trembling too much to support her. She was playing with fire. And she liked it.

But feelings like this were what had led her mother into trouble so many times. How did Natalie know she wouldn’t be as easily deceived?

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Carson grinned at the smear of paint on Natalie’s cheek.

Their relationship over the past two weeks had fallen into an easy camaraderie that surprised him. She’d given up her Saturdays to help him, and had shown up at eight this morning to whitewash the walls.

“I can’t believe how much bigger this place looks,” he said. “When you called this morning and said you’d like to do one of the living rooms, I didn’t see any way you’d get it done in a day.”

The cabin already looked like a different place. An old friend, Griffen Parker, had come back to town, and Carson had hired him to tear out the kitchens and install the tubs and bathrooms. He’d been working on this cabin for a week, and the place looked bigger, airier.

She held her roller in the air in a victorious gesture. “I’m the best painter in town. I love it.” She climbed down the ladder and put the roller in the pan. “I’m ready for some lunch.”

She sniffed. “What did you bring us? I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I hope you like Mexican. I got arroz con pollo and made sure there was no gluten in the spices. Rice is okay, right?”

“I love Mexican. I could eat it three times a day.” She went toward the folding table and chairs by the window where the boxes of food sat.

He followed and shoved open the sliding glass door to the deck overlooking the lake. The fresh scent of the water rushed in to push back the smell of paint. She was already seated, and he pulled out the other chair.

He dug out plastic utensils and they ate in silence at first until he glanced at her. “Did you hear any more from Lisa?”

The smile froze on her face, and she put down her fork.

“She called twice after that, but I didn’t answer. What more was there to say? I don’t have that kind of money, and even if I did, I’m not going to give it to her.”

“Did she leave a message?”

Her eyes shadowed, Natalie nodded. “She said she’d contacted an attorney.”

“Did you see Brian?”

“Yes, he drew up papers for me to sign. He’s been swamped with all the stuff here.” She held his gaze. “Lisa said she might go after money from you.”

“She won’t get it,” he said. “Tell me you don’t still believe her.”

She poked at her Mexican rice with her fork and didn’t look at him. “She’s just like our mother. Easily deceived by men and always making the same mistakes.”

“I wasn’t a mistake she made. I never even knew her outside of high school glee club, Natalie.” He put down his fork. “I thought you knew me better now. Recognized the kind of man I am.”

She looked up then, and her eyes were haunted. “What kind of woman would accuse a man of something so bad if it were all a lie? And why would she contact a lawyer if she weren’t sure of her proof?”

“You think all men are deceivers and hiding who they really are?”

She put down her fork. “I don’t know. Maybe there are good men out there. And it’s just not in my genes to weed them out.”

He should have been offended, but he found himself intrigued by experiences that had affected her so dramatically. “Your mom died when?”

“I was ten. My aunts took in the three of us.” Her brother, Paul, had left town for college and gone on to be a top architect.

“What do you remember about your mom that affected you so much?”

She looked down at her hands. “The front door was a revolving one of man after man. She was married five times before she died.”

“And Lisa is just like her?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to be like them. Every day I ask God to help me see things more clearly than Mom and Lisa.

To open the eyes of my heart.”

“Yet you fail to trust him to do just that,” he said softly.

Her cheeks reddened as though she’d been slapped. She said nothing as she rose and turned back to her paint pan.

“Prove you trust him and go out to dinner with me this weekend,” Carson said. “Give me the benefit of the doubt.”

He’d moved from the thought of “someday” going on a date to actually asking her out this weekend. Roller in hand, she stared at him, biting her lip ferociously.

“I’ll pick you up Friday at seven.”

“You’re on.” She turned back to her work.

He picked up a paint roller and joined her. Maybe he’d given her food for thought.