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“I did—the orange marmalade French toast you liked when I tried the recipe a couple of months ago,” she said while they waited for his food to heat. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I hope you know that I honestlywantto get along and...and make you happy.”
He leaned against the doorway. “That would be easy enough to do. You know what I want, Lu. But for some reason you can’t give it to me.”
Even the sulkiness of his voice bothered her. She couldn’t figure out what was going on. “Not right now,” she admitted as the microwave dinged. She took out his plate and slipped past him to reach the dining table, and he pulled out a chair and slouched into it.
“I thought you’d eventually realize that we’re perfect for each other. I mean...what do you plan to do with your life if you don’t marry me? Do you want to remain single indefinitely? Give yourself only to your work?”
She went back into the kitchen to pour him a cup of coffee. “That isn’t the future I’m hoping for, no.”
“Then what? You’re fighting your own happiness. You know that, don’t you? Brant isn’t looking for anything more than a good time. That makes him seem safe. That’s what made it possible for you to sleep with him so easily. And here I am, willing to offer you what most girls want, and you’re not interested. It’s too ironic.”
“Talulah?” someone called from the front door, surprising them both. “Anyone home?”
Talulah leaned around Paul to peer through the living room. “Ellen?”
“What the hell’s wrong with your screen door?” she asked, having to wrest it open to get in.
“It’s not fixable,” Paul said before Talulah could respond. “It needs to be replaced.”
Ellen glanced over at him. “I thought that was your car in the drive.”
“Is it a problem that I’m still here?”
She shrugged. “Not for me. But some people are making a big deal out of it.”
“Would ‘some people’ be Brant the rancher?” he asked drily.
“Actually, I was referring to Charlie and his family.”
Paul took a drink of his coffee. “Why would they care?”
“They make everything that has to do with Talulah their business.”
“Well, you can tell them I’m leaving.”
“Damn. Now who’ll keep the gossip mill running?” Ellen joked, and Talulah breathed a little easier, secretly glad that he hadn’t changed his mind.
“In a town this size, I’m sure there’ll be someone,” he said.
Ellen held up the measuring cup she’d brought over. “Can I borrow a cup of sugar?” she asked Talulah.
“Of course.” Talulah went to the pantry and grabbed what was left of the bag she’d purchased for the carrot cakes. “Just bring back what you don’t use. No worries.”
“Okay,” she said, but she was standing behind Paul when she gave a slight gesture with her head that let Talulah know she wanted to be walked out.
“Do you need anything else?” Talulah asked, following her through the living room.
“I don’t think so,” she said as Talulah forced open the recalcitrant screen door.
When Ellen hesitated, Talulah waited until they were both out on the porch before whispering, “Is something wrong?”
Ellen leaned to the right to glance past her. Paul had his back to them as he ate, but she seemed to realize they didn’t have enough privacy for whatever she wanted to say. “Call me later,” she said, and Talulah knew she meantafter he goes.
Nineteen
As soon as Paul finished eating, he went upstairs to get his bag while Talulah waited nervously in the living room. She had the feeling he was hoping she’d ask him to stay and didn’t want to have that conversation. At this point, she was so glad he was leaving she dreaded going back to Seattle.
As hard as it had been for her to face coming home to Coyote Canyon, she’d never dreamed she’d begin to feel the same about Seattle.
