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Caleb’s dark brows jerked up. “She did?”
“Mm-hmm.” Reese eyed Sam again. “Damn nice, don’t you think?”
He polished off his wine and reached for the bottle. “She’s very generous.”
“And she’s got nice legs too,” Reese prompted. “Dancer’s legs. But you noticed that the second you saw her.”
With a chuckle, Sam said, “Hard to miss. And yes, she’s the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. But, Reese…” His expression turned serious. “I’m not looking to hook up with anyone.”
She was quiet a moment, contemplative. Then she set aside her fork and, in an equally serious tone, said, “Charlotte’s getting married. You heard it yourself. She’s happy in Iowa. Maybe it’s time for you to move on too.”
He felt that familiar tic in his body that was a natural reaction to the mention of his old flame. “I’m happy for her. You both know that. Marrying me and being a part of the Bennett family never would have suited her. She’s not as thick-skinned as you, Reese. And I kept her from Dad and Judith for so long, it was inevitable they’d trash her because they felt slighted. I own that mistake.”
“You tried to protect her,” Reese said. “That’s not a mistake.”
“Poor judgment, then,” he countered. “Call it what you like. The fact remains, when I finally sprung her on the family, they shredded her. She couldn’t handle the tension and pressure at family gatherings. Given the number of Bennett events, it was impossible to imagine how awkward Charlotte felt. Skipping them only made it worse for her when we finally did show up somewhere. It aggravated the hell out of me to have Judith and Dad glaring at her and constantly putting her down—no matter what I had to say about it.”
“Sky would give them a run for their money.”
Caleb glanced her way.
She flashed him a spirited look. “Just sayin’.”
Sam chuckled again, finding her amusing. “You’re probably right. But I haven’t dated for a while and I’m not intending to anytime soon.”
“But you are going to Pietro’s with us on Wednesday night.” It wasn’t even a question—apparently, she’d already made up his mind for him. “We have a reservation for ten people. The Wades, the Bains, the Mills, me and Caleb, you and Sky.”
He shook his head at how fast Reese operated. “Does she know about your maneuvering?”
“I mentioned in passing that I’d invite you. She didn’t seem to mind.”
“Says you,” Sam chided.
She refreshed her own glass of wine and added, “There is nothing wrong with two people being attracted to each other and having dinner together. Especially when amongst friends.”
Sam speared Caleb with a Lord help me look. His brother merely shrugged. Traitor.
Sam said, “I’ll go, because I never pass up dinner at Pietro’s. But don’t go makin’ anything out of anything.”
“Right,” Caleb said with a hearty laugh. “Try to remember who you’re talking to, bro. Once Reese gets something in her head, it isn’t going anywhere until it’s finished.”
“I think she could use the change of pace,” Reese continued. “Here in Wilder and with someone new. Seems something sketchy went down in Nashville—so bad she won’t tell me anything about it, except that her former manager-slash-ex-boyfriend tried to con her out of a healthy wad of cash.” Reese frowned. “To tell you the truth, I think more than that happened. But she won’t say a word about it.”
Sam recalled the tormented looks that had flickered in Sky’s eyes when she’d been in the stable. Yeah, she’d been disturbed by the sorry state of the horses, but he’d swear more brewed inside her than loathing for people who abused animals.
“You don’t think—”
“Hey now, quiet down,” Reese told him. “Here she comes with dessert.”
Moments later, the new and unexpected object of Sam’s desire stepped out onto the deck, carrying a large oval tray and a tray jack. She snapped open the latter and carefully balanced her load on it. She doled out dessert plates and forks, then placed three samples in the center of the table.
She said, “I told Reese that I mostly bake cakes, but I’ve got a killer recipe for key lime pie. One taste of this,” she gestured to the appropriate dish, “and you’ll never think of key lime pie the same way again.”
“Looks kinda like cheesecake,” Sam commented.
She smiled at him, dimples and all. “It has the consistency of cheesecake, maybe a bit firmer, and the height of meringue. Along with the most vibrant snap of lime you’ll ever taste.”
“Sold,” Sam said as he reached for the plate.
