“Exactly. But this time I like it. How did you meet him?”
“I opened the back of my car. I was—”
“Wait,” Tate said. “I think this story calls for pie.”
When he moved away from her, Casey sat up to watch. Although he was totally nude, he didn’t seem the least bit shy or inhibited. As for her, she held the dusty old lap robe under her arms.
Tate got the pie carrier and the spoon, then moved back to snuggle beside Casey. He opened it, scooped a huge spoonful from the middle, held it out to her, and she took a bite.
“You do know, don’t you, that pies are usually sliced and served on plates.”
“I used to think so too. But then I fought a mad beast in a girl’s bedroom, and later I ravenously dug a spoon into a pie so good it must have been made in heaven. Then a very pretty girl yelled at me, and all I could think of was that her cheeks were pink and every part of her bod
y was bouncing, so I changed my mind. Since then I’ve liked pies and spoons. Brings back good memories.”
Casey blinked a few times. “In that case, I understand.” He fed her another bite. “Back to Kit. Remember I told you that I packed up everything and drove to Summer Hill? In my case, that meant one suitcase full of clothes and the rest of my car packed solid with cookware and cookbooks.”
“You could have shipped it all. No! Let me guess. You feared that it would be lost. Too precious to trust to strangers in big trucks.”
“Exactly. But it was all a bit much for my little car, because when I parked in front of the local B&B and opened the back, a lot of things came tumbling out. The owner of the inn helped me repack, then she made a call, and ten minutes later Kit was there.”
“Then what?”
“He looked inside the open back of my car and hired me as his cook, without my having so much as made a biscuit. The next day he put me in the guesthouse on an old plantation I thought he owned. Over the winter he introduced me to half the town and used Stacy and me as readers for a play he was writing.”
“All while planning to have you perform as Elizabeth.”
“Maybe. I’m not sure about that. That all seems to have just happened. My guess is he wanted you and Stacy together. But then, he also wanted Stacy for his son.”
“At least we agree that Kit was up to something.”
They had eaten half the pie. Tate licked a tiny bit of chocolate-tipped pecan off the side of her mouth, then kissed her. He seemed about ready to do more, but his head came up. “Treasure.”
“I agree,” Casey murmured, her eyes half closed.
Tate sat up straighter. “Mom used to talk about the treasure box she and Ace put things in. She never said where they kept the box hidden, but this was their hideout, so maybe it’s in here somewhere.” He picked up Casey’s hand and was kissing her fingertips. “Put on a child’s thinking cap. Where would you hide a treasure box?”
“I think you already found it,” she murmured.
He turned his attention back to her and his voice lowered. “I don’t think so. I’d better keep searching.”
Casey slid down on the pillows and he took her in his arms.
It was nearly an hour later that they flopped back on the pillows, sweaty and sated. Above them, the rain had stopped and the candle had burned to a nub.
“Weren’t we looking for something?” Tate asked.
“Trust me. You found it.”
“Did I?” He turned on his side to face her, picked up a strand of her hair, and held it up to the light. “I’ve always liked red hair.”
“When I was a kid, it was much redder and I wanted to dye it.”
“Speaking of red, what is that?”
Turning, she looked at the wall. Their energetic lovemaking had knocked loose a piece of wood that covered a little opening. Tate reached over her and pulled out a metal candy box. It was red on the sides, the top painted with a scene of a peacock with its tail in full flourish.
“Maybe it contains a recipe for peacock pie,” Tate said enthusiastically as he set the box on the cushion between them.