Page 16 of Blue Jean Summer

Was this about the umpteenth Wilder Foundation grant application I had filled out and submitted? If this was a business meeting, I was glad I had dressed up.

“Of course,” I said as I stayed on my side of the island. “I’ll take any excuse I can get to come out here.”

“It’s a nice day. I thought we could have lunch in the rose garden if that’s alright with you,” Hayes said as he tipped his head in the direction Hallie had disappeared to.

Oh, he’s pulling out all the stops.

“I’d love that.”

Hayes stared at me for a moment before lowering his head and laughing under his breath. He extended his hand across the island. “Cath, I’m not going to bite.”

Well, that was a disappointment. Maybe he would if I asked nicely.

Tentatively, I rounded the island as Hallie walked back in. “Lunch is served, Mr. Wilder,” she said.

Hayes huffed. “Again with the ‘Mr. Wilder’ shit. When are you going to drop that?”

Hallie snickered. “It’s more fun to tease you. You two enjoy. Thanks for the bribe, Cath.”

Breaking every rule of etiquette known to mankind, I turned, stuck out my tongue, and flipped her off.

Hayes laughed as he slid his hand onto my back, leading me out of the kitchen and onto the patio. “You tried to bribe Hallie?”

“With iced coffee and a brownie from the Moo Brew,” I said.

“We have a coffee maker in the kitchen,” he noted as we walked through the winding garden paths. “She keeps it on overdrive most days.”

“Ah, yes. But coffee always tastes better when someone else makes it.”

His responding chuckle was rich. “Can’t argue with that. Why were you trying to bribe her?”

“I was curious why I was invited. I was under the impression that this was more of a group affair.” I glanced at the wrought iron table that was covered in a perfectly pressed linen. Two pristine place settings were arranged on top. Between them was a bud vase that held three pale pink roses.

“I apologize for being vague,” he said as he pulled my chair away from the table, waited for me to sit, then gently pushed it in.

I kept my hands in my lap and tucked my ankles to the side of the chair as he opened the bottle of white wine and let it breathe.

“I’m just glad I didn’t show up in shorts for a cookout, or jeans to ride.”

Thick lashes flicked up and down as he quickly assessed my appearance. “You look beautiful.” And for the first time, I got a full smile. “And for the record, I wouldn’t have minded seeing you in shorts.”

So, this wasn’t business.

I tucked away my dreams of having direct access to the decision-maker at the Wilder Foundation and settled in to see what the hell this was all about.

We munched on our salads while taking in the scenery. The rose garden should have been a morose place. Hayes’s parents and grandparents were buried not too far away. But it was too beautiful to be sad. Winding paths cut through neatly pruned bushes. Everything was in bloom, surrounding us in soft pinks and crisp greens. The trickling stone fountain harmonized with the birds, serenading us as we ate.

After a few minutes of passive small talk about the weather and the town, Hallie appeared with something that smelled absolutely divine.

She stayed silent but kept glancing between us as she traded the empty salad plates for grilled chicken and pasta in a bright sun-dried tomato cream sauce.

“I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say this isn’t a coincidence,” I guessed as she disappeared.

Hayes lifted an eyebrow as he poured the wine. “What makes you say that?”

“Hallie made all my favorite foods. The salad with grilled peaches? My favorite. Her sun-dried tomato sauce? I could drink it by the gallon.”

Hayes chuckled as he set the bottle down. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”