The little girl regarded him with fresh scrutiny.Paul remained serious and committed to his story.He squinted at Vanessa, daring her to dispute him.Her lips twitched with amusement, but she didn’t break.
Neither did he.
“If you have lemons, you’re ’sposed to make lemonade,” Emily said.
Paul nodded thoughtfully.“I’ll try that next time.”
Vanessa tugged Emily toward the shore.“Say goodbye to Mr.Paul.”
Emily used her doll’s arm to wave goodbye.Vanessa guided her toward the footpath to the lake.He stared at her backside, because it looked fantastic in those breezy pants, but what he really noted was the slight shake of her shoulders.She was laughing.
Yes.
The jolt of pleasure he experienced at the sight of her trying not to laugh, and failing, was greater than the situation called for.Satisfaction rushed through him, warm and bright.Instead of pumping his fist in the air or laughing like a maniac, he turned back to the hull and resumed sanding.
But the smile didn’t leave his face, not for a long time.
Chapter Seven
As soon asthey were out of earshot, Vanessa started giggling.
Once she started, she couldn’t stop.She doubled over, picturing Paul’s scowling face.He wasn’t as grumpy or standoffish as he let on.He seemed to be mocking himself, as well as her, with that bit about eating lemons.
Emily laughed with her, skipping along happily.She was a friendly child, quick to smile and chat with strangers.Like most four-year-olds, she said whatever came to mind.Vanessa worried about her being too fearless, but she didn’t have the heart to quell her spirit.She was glad Paul Murphy wasn’t the ogre he pretended to be.
They sat down at the picnic table near the shore to wait for Jackson.Paul drove away in his work truck with the boat hitched to the back.Emily started chattering about plans for a lemonade stand.Vanessa replayed the highlights of the odd exchange with Paul, and tried to pinpoint what had passed between them.For a moment she thought he was making an innuendo, and his gaze had scorched through her.Then he’d continued his silly story and she’d been hard-pressed not to laugh.
He was an interesting character, intense and inscrutable.While Vanessa daydreamed, Emily scribbled in her notebook.Brow furrowed in concentration, she drew a picture of a man with his face on backwards.
Jackson returned in his truck with an array of camping gear.He’d brought the tent and sleeping mats.Although he wanted to depart to the campground immediately, Vanessa wasn’t ready to concede defeat.She pulled him aside for a private conversation.
“Did you talk to him?”she asked.
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I offered to pay for one of the cabins, and he declined.He wants peace and quiet.He also thinks you’re in trouble.”
She fell silent, annoyed with the accurate assessment.
Jackson searched her face.“Are you?”
“Let’s discuss that later.”
“All right,” Jackson said.“I told him our dad is the sheriff.”
“You told him about Dad?”
He gave a sheepish nod.“I’m not sure it had any effect.I get the feeling he won’t respond to pressure.”
She tugged on one of her braids, anxious.
“Your insistence on staying here might make things worse.”
“Are you saying that because you want me to go to your place?”
“No.I’m saying it because you’re behaving irrationally, and I don’t think that guy is a fan of theatrics.”
