“That’s amazing.”
He pulled up in front of the blue awnings of the Royal Sonesta hotel. “Be right back. Two minutes.”
And then he was out of the car and jogging across the street into the Musical Legends Park.
He is something … something special.What Imogen couldn’t figure out was why he was still single.How has some lucky girl not snatched him up?
Within a few minutes, he was bounding across the street, opening the door, and handing the beignets to Imogen as he slid into the Lincoln.
“How are you even single? It truly makes no sense.” She couldn’tnotvoice the question.
He grinned, and his beard set off his even white teeth.
“Because I hadn’t metthe oneyet. Dad always said, ‘Wait until you find the right girl and only do it once.’”
She didn’t miss that he’d saidhadn’t. As in past tense. Was it colloquial, or was he saying … he hadnow?
She wasn’t bold enough to ask that question.
But something shifted within her.What if he is the one? What would that look like?Her life was on Grand Island. His was here. Sure, it was only a couple hours’ drive, but … worlds apart. She couldn’t dive in New Orleans.
That’s not my concern right now,Imogen decided.We’re just going to have beignets, and I’m going to watch him paint.That’s all.
Also, she wanted to shake herself.This might be dreamy, but he’s not proposing or anything.
“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”
Imogen turned toward him as he reached up to push a button on his visor. The yellow house she and Jury had stood in front of the other night was on their right.
“Sorry, just … thinking.”
“Care to share?”
“It’s probably way too soon for that.”
“Says who?”
“You’d run screaming, I’m sure.” Imogen was shocked she’d even said that much.
“Bet I won’t. Try me.”
“My job is on the island. Well, out in the Gulf. Your life is here.”
Mint-green doors swung open to reveal a courtyard, and Nic guided the Lincoln onto the charming cobblestone with a hedgerow and fountain—complete with a cherub—on the left and his stunning yellow-and-mint-green-painted home on the right.
“This is incredible.”
“It takes more than a bit of upkeep, but it’s worth it.” He met her gaze. “Anything worth having takes upkeep, Imogen. Relationships included. Why don’t we just see what happens?” His words were so simple, and yet they rang with truth.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Hey. No need to apologize. Can’t say I have a problem with where your thoughts are heading. But just … wait and see, all right? I’ll get your door.”
As he climbed out, a new thought hit Imogen like a lightning bolt.I don’t have to have a job anymore, unless I want one.
She’d confirmed with the bank this morning that the funds showing on the deposit slip were real. Neither she nor Jury had to work again if they were smart with how they used it, and Imogen planned to be.
He opened the passenger door and held out a hand. Imogenlovedhis manners and was definitely in danger of falling in love with his house too. He led her into a set of French doors off the courtyard, which opened into an airy breakfast room with cherry floors, an antique round table, and exposed brick wall. He set the beignets down on a place mat, and she was enraptured.