When Lightning Strikes (Whiskey Creek #1)(53)
Author: Brenda Novak

“I like the porch,” he admitted, gazing through the gigantic front windows with the diamond-shaped cut-glass inserts above them.

“I love the porch,” she said. “It’s almost as big as the living room. Imagine sitting out there with a glass of iced tea as the sun goes down. Summers in Whiskey Creek are so gorgeous. And the kitchen’s got potential,” she added.

He followed her around the corner. “If someone were to gut it and completely redo it, maybe.” He eyed the lime-green cupboards. “These cabinets are hideous.”

“It wouldn’t be that hard to renovate,” she said. “Maybe we should remodel instead of build.”

The screen door slammed as Kathy came back in. “So? What do you think?” she asked when she found them, but she had eyes only for Simon. What Gail thought didn’t matter.

Simon stared at Gail for several seconds, during which she silently pleaded with him. Then he shifted his attention to Kathy. “We’ll take it.”

“You want to make an offer?”

“Give them their asking price,” he said. “It’s not much.”

Gail had begun to figure out that Simon was a pushover when it came to money and possessions. She was pretty sure she could get just about anything out of him. His willingness to buy her a half-million-dollar diamond was proof. So she wasn’t surprised that he’d let her have the house even though he didn’t want it and that he’d agreed to the original price. She was surprised, however, when he leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips. It was a loving gesture manufactured for Kathy’s benefit, of course. They’d been holding hands for most of the day; it was beginning to feel natural. But that kiss. It was nothing, a split second of contact, and yet it stole Gail’s breath.

She glanced up to see if he was laughing at her, if he realized how much she’d liked it, but he turned away before she could ascertain what he might be thinking.

“When can we move in?” he asked.

* * *

That night Gail made a Caesar salad, pasta and garlic bread. The cream sauce for the pasta had onions and peas and bacon. Simon liked it. But sitting at the table with Martin and Joe DeMarco, who were home from work for the evening, was a silent and awkward affair.

Gail must’ve said something to them about how they’d treated him so far, because they were on their best behavior. Martin no longer shook his head in disgust whenever he glanced at Simon, and Joe didn’t seem so hostile, either. Both men bent their heads over their plates and shoveled in their food as if they were sitting at the table alone.

“Would you like some more garlic bread?” Gail asked Simon.

He looked up from his own plate. “No, thanks.”

This polite exchange aside, Simon thought they’d go the whole meal without any conversation. Which was fine with him. He didn’t have a lot to say to her family, anyway.

But then Martin wiped his mouth, tossed his napkin on the table and spoke. To him.

“What do you think of Whiskey Creek?” he asked.

There was a bottle of Napa Valley wine sitting on the counter. Simon had been given a glass of soda. Gail had poured herself a soda, too. But he could smell the wine from where he sat. “I like it.”

“Great place to raise a family.”

Was he referring to his having raised a family here? Or was he fishing to see if Simon and Gail planned to have children?

Simon supposed it was natural that the old man might hope for another grandchild. But even if they hadn’t already made provisions for their divorce, even if he could get Gail to sleep with him, Simon would insist on using some form of birth control. Never again would he hand a woman a weapon as powerful as a child. Love was far too fickle.

“I’d like to bring my son here sometime.” He’d sidestepped what he suspected might be the real issue, but he couldn’t be faulted for what he’d said.

Joe nodded. “I was wondering if we’d get to meet him. My daughters come every other weekend.”

Simon twirled another forkful of pasta but didn’t bring it to his mouth. “Where do they live the rest of the time?”

If Joe recalled Simon’s earlier words about his divorce, he seemed willing to let bygones by bygones. “In Sacramento. Their mother’s a nurse at UC Davis.”

“How old are they?”

People with children loved to talk about them, and Joe was no different. He took a couple of pictures out of his wallet. “This is Summer. She’s ten.” His face split into the proudest of grins. “And this little devil’s Josephine. She’s only seven, but she’s a spitfire.”

“Like her mother,” Martin added dryly.

Joe clicked his tongue. “Yeah, her mother’s something else.”

Simon got the impression that wasn’t a compliment.

He looked at the pictures long enough to seem interested, even though he didn’t want to become embroiled in the family dynamic. “They’re pretty girls. You’re going to have your hands full when they get older.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Joe said.

“You planning to do another movie soon?” This question came from Martin.

“I’m thinking of accepting another romantic thriller in March, one called Last Train to Georgia.”

“A thriller, huh? Sort of like Shiver?” Joe asked.

Simon couldn’t help glancing at Gail. She was definitely familiar with his work in that movie. She turned red every time someone mentioned it, which made him want to laugh. If only she knew how hard he’d worked to get that love scene right. Tomica, the actress he’d been paired with, had worn the same perfume as his mother, which made it revolting for him to kiss her. He was proud of his performance simply because no one seemed to be aware of his repugnance. He’d considered demanding they hold off and shoot another day, but it would’ve cost the production company a shitload of money. “More or less.”

“Who else is in the new one?” Joe asked.

“An actress by the name of Viola Hilliard-Paul.”

Joe washed his food down with a sip of his wine. “Never heard of her.”

“She’s new. But she’s got talent.” And she didn’t remind him of his mother. He had slept with Vi a number of times—although he couldn’t remember whether he’d enjoyed it. He’d been drunk more often than not and had broken it off the minute she began taking it seriously.

Joe looked at Gail. “How are you going to feel about your husband doing love scenes, baby sister?”