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“What kind of little quirks,” he asked cautiously.
She held up her hands and began to count the “quirks” off on her fingers. “The electricity is turned off. I think I found the electrical box in a closet, but I’m afraid to touch it because the roof leaked and left a huge puddle on the floor. I’ve got candles but no lighter. The water is shut off, and I haven’t been able to locate the on/off valves. I know there is a huge lake out there, and it may be okay for a bath, but soap wouldn’t be environmentally friendly to the fish, and it’s not drinkable. Oh, and my best friend Beth was supposed to bring the groceries, but she got married instead.” She stopped and rolled her eyes in mock exaggeration. “That’s a long story. Anyway, my car is kind of stuck in the mud, so I won’t be going anywhere until the driveway dries or I get a tow up the hill. My on-hand food sources consist of a bag of BBQ potato chips and a few Skittles. That should last me for a day or so. And if you have any rice I could borrow, that would be great.”
The whole damn cottage sounds like a disaster. “How can you cook rice without electricity?” he said, stating the obvious.
“It’s not to eat. I need to dry out my cell phone. Must have gotten wet when I was moving into the cabin,” she said, twisting her naturally pouty lips. Considering the unfortunate calamities, he felt the asshole persona he was all geared up for beginning to dissipate. He must have taken too long to respond because he caught her smile falter for an instant, then reappear even wider.
“Well, I can see this is not a good time. I hope you enjoy your stay,” she said quickly, then turned to leave.
“Wait!” he barked. She froze at his harsh command. He caught her sharp intake of breath and remembered Gray telling him that she had just lost her only relative. Sending her away felt like pulling the wings off a fairy. When she turned back to face him, her sweet smile waned. Christ. If I say the wrong thing, I might break her.
“It’s okay, really. Not your problem. I’ll work it out,” she said.
Shit, I hate that I’m going to say this. “I was just sitting down to dinner, and there’s plenty of food. I’m not a bad cook if you compare it to a bag of chips.”
A wry grin spread across her lips. “I don’t know. Potato chips are on the top of my food list. That’s a challenge you might lose,” she said wistfully.
He shook his head. “I’ll risk it. Why don’t you join me, and then we’ll go over and see if we can get your utilities turned on.”
“Are you sure?” she asked wearily.
He half-forced and half-meant the reassuring smile he gave her.
Chapter Four
Bash added another place setting across from his in the window-framed breakfast nook and filled their plates. She nodded to the glass of wine he offered. He suddenly remembered he had just taken a swig out of the bottle and shrugged. What the hell.
The rain finally stopped, and dusk had turned into a moonless night, filtering out all traces of light except for the path lamps lining the stairs leading down the hill to the lake. As Morgan got settled, he struggled to come up with a conversation that would help alleviate the awkwardness. She beat him to it before he took his first bite.
“Well, here we are. Two complete strangers sharing a meal together. Pops was wrong. There are still good people in the world,” she said, flashing a disarming smile.
It made him feel like a fraud knowing he had begrudgingly asked her to stay.
“Is Pops your father?” he asked. Although he already knew from his conversation with Gray that it referred to her grandfather, he didn’t want to give away his prior knowledge.
She politely finished chewing her bite before her face lit up. “My grandfather. He raised me. Most people would call him a suspicious, old grump, but I knew he would do anything for me. Or at least try.”
Her forthrightness caught him off guard. “What do you mean?” he asked, not sure he was interested, but conversation was better than silence. She was chatty, so he decided to let her do most of the work.
“When I was in grammar school, the girls at school were always making fun of me. I didn’t have any women in my life, so I never understood all the girl stuff they liked to talk about. One day, I came home crying to Pops about how dumb those girls made me feel because I didn’t know how to fix my hair. The next day after school, I found two books from the library on hair styles. Then, every week after, there were more books on fashions, cooking, etiquette, and girls’ bodies. Whenever I had questions he couldn’t answer, I’d get a book. Pops told me to never let anyone know they hurt me, or they would use it against me. That was one of his first Popsisms.
“He was afraid of being a bad parent. He said he got into lots of trouble when he was young. His mom and dad weren’t good people. The library ended up being his answer to good parenting. Smoking, drinking, drugs, sex, gambling … you name it, and I read about the dangers and how excess could ruin my life. Every time he found something in the newspapers or on television that he hadn’t warned me about, a book would appear. He started paying me $2 for the medium-sized books and $5 for the thick ones. Didn’t take me long to figure out I had a moneymaker on my hands. It helped that I loved to read.” Her laughter made him smile despite himself.
“Where did you grow up?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“In a rural town not far from Gainesville, Georgia. It was too small for a school district, so Pops drove me 25 miles to and from school every day. What about you? Where did you grow up?” she asked, backing up in her chair. Her hands suddenly flew to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. I just realized I don’t even know your name!”
He had to chuckle. It had occurred to him she might know who he was and was playing dumb, but this young woman was so guileless it didn’t seem to fit. He hated deceiving people, so he didn’t.
“Bash Bartoli. I grew up in a little town in southern Illinois.” He felt a morsel of guilt for not giving her his full name.
“Big family?” she asked, before she expertly wrapped her fettuccine around her fork with her spoon and took a bite, the etiquette books appearing to have paid off.
“Not really. Just me and my mom,” he said without elaborating.
A cloud passed over Morgan’s face as she laid her fork down and swallowed hard, then met his eyes. Bash could almost feel the pain on her face. “Pops was my only family, too, but we did okay. He passed a couple of weeks ago. He was everything to me. I do have Beth, my best friend. Her family owns this house. This trip was her attempt to cheer me up. I’ve come here with her family for the past ten years. They are nice folks who have always accepted me as one of them. Didn’t matter that I was from a hick town in North Georgia.” She took a long drink of water, seeming to calm her emotions. When she glanced back at him, that unpretentious sparkle was back in her eyes. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you inviting me for dinner tonight. Even if nothing gets fixed in the cottage and I turn around and go home tomorrow, I will remember your kindness and this lovely dinner.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, clearing his throat and feeling guilty it hadn’t been his intent. “Do you work in Gainesville?”
