Jecca was glad he couldn’t see her face. She knew she must be looking at him in adoration. In her experience, when a man asked for a “favor” it wasn’t so he could help out his niece. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I’ll take care of Nell. At the rate I’m going in producing work I may end up teaching elementary school art.”
Tristan wasn’t sure if he should reply to that. He feared revealing what Kim had told him about Jecca’s paintings not selling. “I own a couple of buildings downtown, and Roan owns half a dozen.”
“Good for you guys.” She was puzzled by his comment.
“I was just thinking that Edilean could use a place where people could study art.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “That’s an idea. I could teach senior citizens how to paint pictures of their dogs. Or maybe I should teach kids how to make pottery. Or—”
“I get it,” Tris said, laughing. “But you do set a man a challenge.”
“How so?”
“To get you to stay I have to find you a new career.”
It was her turn to laugh. “I somehow don’t think that’s going to happen. How often do you get to New York?”
“About every three years.”
Jecca knew it made no sense to feel that she was going to miss this man she’d never seen, but she did. When he started moving things about, she knew what he was doing. He was making a place so she could lean against him. She waited, sipping her champagne, until she felt him hold out his arm.
She didn’t hesitate as she turned and moved back toward him, between his outstretched legs, her back against his front. When he lifted his injured arm to slide down over her body, it felt familiar to her. She snuggled back against him, and for a while they sat there in silence and listened to the water and the night sounds.
“I’m going to miss you,” he said softly, his mouth very close to her ear. “Mind if I call you while I’m away?”
“I would love it if you did. Every day I’ll tell you all about whatever aerobic torture my two ladies put me through.”
“Did you guys do the belly dancing this afternoon?”
“Oh yes. Lucy’s rather good at it, but Mrs. Wingate and I will never be more than amateurs.”
“I think you should let me be the judge,” Tristan said. “As a doctor, I could watch and—”
“In your dreams.”
He chuckled. “Are you looking forward to seeing Reede again?”
“It’s all I can think about.” When Tristan said nothing, Jecca turned her face up toward his. “I know it’s impossible, but you sound jealous.”
“My km">aited, sipgirl fantasizes about the . . . what did you say? . . . ‘naked beauty’ of another man and I’m not supposed to be even a bit jealous?”
“When did I become ‘yo
ur girl’?”
“Today, when I thought about you all day long.”
“That’s only because you have no job right now. If you weren’t incapacitated and had something to occupy your time, you’d never give me a thought. I would be the girl you tripped over and that’s it. I doubt very much if there’d have been a second and third night together.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Tristan said. “You’re forgetting about the picture I have of you. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you since Kim told the whole town you were coming.” He paused. “So how many paintings did you make today? Or did you take photos? Hey! I just realized that you might like to see the species orchids in my house.”
“Species orchids?”
“Ones from the wild, not the hybrids I keep at Miss Livie’s. I got an importer’s license, and when I was in South America I bought some orchids and brought them back with me. They’ve done well but it wasn’t easy. I think they missed their freedom and those tropical rains. Orchids don’t like too much babying.”
“South America,” Jecca said. “Were you down there as a doctor?” She was toying with his injured hand, feeling his fingers, how long they were, how neat the nails were. His hands were strong, as though he did some sport that required strength.
“Yes,” Tristan said softly, his face near hears. “I try to go somewhere in the world at least once a year. I do what I can to help.”