LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

had shoulders like a football player’s, broad and solid, yet he moved with a sexy kind of grace. He ordered oysters and fed Dianne one, tilting the shell against her lips. His brown hair was a little shaggy, in need of a haircut. Listening to him talk about medicine, she could hear the passion. He wasn’t in it for the money or prestige: He had a true calling to help people.

      That night when he drove her home he held her hand across the seat. When he stopped the car, he kissed her. The blood rushed into her face and her knees went weak when he tangled his long fingers in her hair, kissed her hard and steady as she leaned into his chest. He felt strong and sturdy as any workman, even though his hands didn’t have calluses. He was a doctor, what did she expect?

      A week went by while she worked on his playhouse. She hoped he would like it enough to take her out again. But he was busy with his practice, and she was busy creating the playhouse. He called once, and she was out; she returned his call, and he was at the hospital.

      Then came delivery day.

      The playhouse was ready. She had it in her studio, and she and her father had planned to carry it over in his truck. But then Alan said his brother Tim was back in town. Since his boat was tied up at the lobster dock, Tim would swing by to pick up the finished house.

      She had been wrapping the playhouse in batting to protect it on the drive when Tim McIntosh walked into her studio. He was as tall as Alan but blonder. He spent his life in the sun, and it showed in the lines on his face. He wore a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing muscular forearms, and his front tooth was slightly chipped. His eyes looked as intelligent as Alan’s, but haunted, as if he were pondering the end of the world.

      “Hey” was all he said as he walked over to grab the roll of batting from Dianne’s hand. “Let me do that.”

      “No, I –” she began.

      But he didn’t listen. He just took the roll of thick padding and began to wrap the house as if he’d been doing that sort of work his whole life. Without speaking, or even really smiling, he stared at her across the small house’s gabled roof. Dianne felt a long shiver down her spine and along the backs of her legs. She wondered how he had chipped his tooth, gotten that scar over his right eyebrow.

      “What’re you thinking?” Tim asked.

      “Me?” she replied, embarrassed to have gotten caught staring. “Nothing.”

      “That’s not true,” he said.

      “Then tell me what I’m thinking about.”

      “You want a boat ride,” he said.

      “No,” she said. “If I’m thinking anything, it’s that you did a nice job. Wrapping that playhouse.”

      “You always do your work in that outfit?”

      Hoping that she and Alan might have dinner after the delivery, Dianne had put on a dress. It was blue and white striped, with a white collar that suddenly seemed too big. Standing in front of Tim, she felt so awkward, felt sweat rolling down her back. She couldn’t stop staring at Tim’s wide grin. She looked like a schoolgirl in her striped dress, she thought, and she wondered what he would think if he knew she still lived with her parents.

      “Strong woman,” he said. “To build this house all by yourself. Tell the truth – did your father help you? Because you honestly don’t look like the hammer-swinging type.”

      “I am,” she said.

      “I’m a laborer myself. That’s why I don’t expect someone as pretty as you …” He smiled again, showing his broken tooth.

      “I love my work,” she said.

      “Me too,” he said. “A woman after my own heart.”

      With his light hair and ruddy skin, the fine white lines radiating around deep blue eyes, there was no missing the fact that he was a fisherman. He was ruggedly gorgeous, and he had a way of glowering that made Dianne think he was harboring a bad secret. He was full of life, and she could imagine him standing on deck, navigating by the stars. When he took her hand and shook it, she felt the thrill all through her body.

      “Tim McIntosh,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”

      “Dianne Robbins,” she said, staring at his strong and callused hand. It took a long time for him to let go.

      “How about that boat ride?” he asked.

      “Your brother’s waiting for us.”

      “He can come with us,” Tim said.

      “Stop.” She laughed. “We have to take the playhouse over to his office.”

      “An island,” Tim said. “That’s where I’ll take you on our boat ride. Somewhere in the Bahamas. We’ll go bone fishing and sleep on the beach. You like the sound of palm trees rustling in the wind?”

      “I’ve never heard them.”

      “You will,” Tim McIntosh had said, his blue eyes blazing.

      “No, I –” Dianne began, unable to take her eyes off Tim. He held her hand lightly, as if he had known her for years, as if he planned to walk her straight off into the sunset. She pulled away, convinced him that Alan was waiting, that they should deliver the playhouse to his waiting room as they had promised.

      “Whatever you want,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist. “You don’t love him, do you?”

      “We’ve gone out only once,” Dianne said, her voice cracking.

      “Good,” Tim said.

      “Why do you say that?” she asked, feeling his hand on the small of her back. Their faces were close, and she knew it was all over. He was a cowboy with a boat, a broken tooth, and a dark secret. Her heart was pounding, and she felt liquid inside. Just looking at him made her smile, made her nervous, made her feel like laughing out loud.

      “Because we’re going for a boat ride, and if things work out, I’m going to ask you to marry me,” he said. “What would you say to that?”

      “I’d say you’re crazy,” Dianne said as he touched the side of her face with his rough fingertips. But she knew that her time with Alan was over forever.

      The truly crazy thing was, Tim McIntosh proposed to her for real less than a month later. He asked her to marry him on the deck of his boat, with all the new spring constellations overhead.

      “I need you,” he told her.

      “We hardly know each other,” she said.

      “It doesn’t feel that way to me,” he said, clutching her. “It feels as if I’ve known you my whole life. Marry me, Dianne,” he said.

      “Marry you …”

      “You’ll never be bored.”

      “Tim!” she laughed, thinking that was a funny thing to say.

      “I’m not like Alan,” he continued. “With him you’d have it easy. Stable as hell.” He made it sound dull. “You’d never have to ask him twice to mow the lawn. Perfect all the time. With me …” He bent her over backward. “You wouldn’t have a lawn.”

      “No?” she asked, staring into his eyes.

      “Just this,” he said, sweeping his arm out to take in the sea, the silver-topped waves spreading to the horizon. “That’s all I can give you.”

      “Only the sea.” She laughed again.

      “Marry me,” he said again.

      Dianne had a sudden strange feeling that Tim was in competition with his brother and she was the prize. The thing was, she was shy and humble, and she didn’t trust her instinct. Alan was a successful doctor, Tim was a handsome fisherman: They could have any woman they wanted. Why would they fight over her?

      Shy girls are

Скачать книгу