The Proposal at Siesta Key Part 17

"You're weak, you know. So, do you trust me?"

"Absolutely, Pen."

She paused, swallowing, and realized that for all their banter, neither had been more serious. He trusted her to keep score and help him ignore his pain.

As for her, she trusted him with, well, everything.

"WANT TO GO OUT for ice cream?" Eric asked Beverly, as if their going out for dessert was a common occurrence.

They'd just returned to the inn. The moment they'd arrived, Tricia had announced that she was going to go upstairs and take a shower and read her book.

Beverly had been about to tell Eric that she'd see him later, sure he was ready to take a break after spending most of the day at the hospital. She knew she was going to be running around the inn for the next couple of hours since they'd been gone for most of the day.

"Um. Well, I don't know."

"You don't know? What's not to know?"

She shrugged. "I kind of feel like I should stay around here."

"Why?"

"You know why. And if you don't, you should."

"Enlighten me."

"Well, when you run an inn, there's always work to do, you see. I'm sure I've got dishes to do and lists to write. Then I need to check the reservations. And probably make sure Tricia is actually all right."

He folded his arms over his chest. "Those are all good reasons to stay here. But why don't you ignore them and come get ice cream anyway?"

"Eric . . ." She was desperately attempting to keep their relations.h.i.+p professional.

Eric, on the other hand, seemed just as determined to turn them into friends. "Come on, Bev. I know you're thinking about it."

"The last thing I need is to be eating ice cream."

He reached out and grabbed her hand. "We both need this. You know it."

"Oh, all right."

He smiled. "I was hoping you would give in gracefully. Come on," he added before she could think of a good, scathing retort.

Dutifully, she followed. "Want to go to Olaf's?"

"That's the only place around, right?" he asked as he held the front door open for her and then started walking down the steps.

"It's not the only place, but it's the best place."

"I'll remember to use that description with future guests."

The thought of them working together, maybe even eventually greeting guests together, sent a little s.h.i.+ver through her.

When they reached the bottom of the porch steps, Eric turned to her. "So, do we go left now?"

"Right."

An eyebrow quirked. "Right, we go left?"

"Right, we go right," she said around a giggle.

He returned her smile as they turned right and started down the sidewalk. It was after six o'clock, suppertime for most people. Consequently, the area was far emptier than usual. It allowed her to pay more attention to the man beside her.

It was becoming obvious that they were never going to be able to maintain only a professional relations.h.i.+p. Maybe that was for the best, after all. They would be able to get along better in the long term if there was more between them than just the fact that he was her new boss.

"How are you liking Pinecraft now?" she asked, attempting to steer their conversation back toward something safer for her heart, back to the proper tone between employee and employer. "Is it feeling more familiar?"

"In some ways it does. But then today, when we were at the hospital, it felt like we could be anywhere in America."

"What's wrong with that?"

"It confuses me, I guess. I keep feeling like everything should be all Amish, all the time."

"The hospital was in Sarasota. Pinecraft is just a part of the city. The Amish enjoy good medical care as much as anyone else, you know."

"That makes sense." He nodded. "But then, when we walk down these streets, it seems like almost everyone is wearing a kapp or a hat. And the pace is slower." He shrugged. "I like it, though."

"I'm glad." To her surprise, she realized that she meant what she said. She'd noticed his interest in the brightly painted bicycles so many Amish rode, the abundant flowers on nearly every corner, and even the almost daily gathering to meet the Pioneer Trails buses. She was glad he was happy to be here. "We should probably talk about what happens next, Eric."

"We should. But not now."

The ice cream store loomed in the distance. As usual, there was a crowd of people standing around its entrance. Teenaged girls, some in traditional dresses and kapps, some in short shorts and tank tops, were standing in groups of two and three. Boys were doing the same thing.

Sitting on the neighboring benches were younger children and older folks. All were eating ice cream cones with obvious enjoyment.

"Actually, I can't think of a better time. I'm not busy with guests and you're not preparing to meet with lawyers. No one else is around to interrupt. It's perfect."

"It's a perfect time to relax, Bev. And it's important, too. We're spending time together."

His comment took her aback, mainly because she'd just been thinking that very same thing. So why was she attempting to direct things back to business? "We are, but-"

He cut her off. "No buts," he said, softening his words with a smile. "Beverly, we're getting to know each other. That's important, too, I think. I want to get to know you."

When was the last time a man had said such things to her? Had it been Marvin? Had it really been that long? Was that why another small s.h.i.+ver just rushed through her at his words?

It made her uncomfortable. And embarra.s.sed! The last thing they needed was for her to imagine that there was something of a romantic nature brewing between them. "How is your girlfriend?"

He blinked. "What?"

"What was her name? Annie?"

"It's Amy. And she's fine. Thank you for asking."

Was it her imagination or had he really just retreated into himself? "Is she going to move down here to Sarasota?"

"I hope so." He didn't smile though. Instead, he looked a little irritated. "What kind of ice cream is the best?"

"What?"

He waved at the line of people practically snaking around them. "We're here. What kind do you usually get?"

Strawberry was her favorite. Usually she could wax poetic about Olaf's ice cream and exactly why she enjoyed strawberry so much, but she'd ruined his mood. It was obvious the enjoyment he'd felt about their short excursion had come and gone.

"Anything is good here," she said as they got in line.

"That's it? You come here all the time, you say it's the best around, but you have no preference for a flavor?"

"It's ice cream, not anything that really matters."

"It's your opinion," he said as they moved forward. After another couple of minutes, he continued. "Your opinion matters, don't you think?"

"I think it doesn't matter all that much."

After giving her a long look, Eric shook his head.

Making her feel worse than she already did. Eric had been nothing but kind today, and now he was even attempting to get to know her better. She needed to stop feeling jealous of a woman she'd never met dating a man she hardly knew. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know I sounded kind of snippy."

"What did I do?"

"Nothing." Well, nothing that she was ever going to admit out loud! Then, because she hated how she was acting-and they likely had another five minutes or so of standing in line-she changed the topic. "I don't know if you knew this, but Big Olaf's has been around since 1982. It's quite famous."

His eyes lit with amus.e.m.e.nt. "I actually did not know that."

"Oh, jah. They have all kinds of flavors. And you can even s.h.i.+p their pints of ice cream all over the country. Can you imagine that?"

"I like the idea of being able to get a little something from Pinecraft up in Pennsylvania. I'll have to keep that in mind."

As they stepped forward, Beverly chattered on, telling Eric all about the other location out on Siesta Key. When she finally paused to take a breath, they were at last at the front of the line.

"I'll take a scoop of mint chocolate chip. What would you like, Bev?"

"Strawberry," she said with a smile.

"And a strawberry cone, too," he told the server.

After they got their cones, they headed home. Beverly told herself that the reason they weren't talking was because they were busy with their ice cream.

However, she was fairly sure that both of them had a whole lot more on their minds than that.

CHAPTER 18.

So how bad do you feel, really?" Evan asked over the phone two days after the surgery.

Michael grinned as he stared out the window in his bedroom. Yesterday Eric had driven him back from the hospital. Though the journey had been a bit painful, the result was worth it. Now he was propped up against a trio of down-filled pillows in a snug bed instead of constantly s.h.i.+fting positions in an attempt to get comfortable in the middle of a drafty, smelly hospital room.

"If you were here instead of in the middle of a tour, you would know that I'm doing better than any of us expected."

"So am I allowed to call you ten times a fool for not getting this surgery done a year ago?"

"Nope. Nothing was wrong a year ago." Well, not too much had been wrong.

"I wish I could say I believed you. But I don't."

"Why don't you concentrate on the good things instead? I got through the surgery and I'll be joining you in a couple of weeks."

"That will be great. It's not the same here without you."

"I bet. I am the star of our show, you know."

"I was going to say that it was quieter. Everyone's more easygoing. Things are running like clockwork without your fans following us around."

"That's so funny. Not."

Evan gave a bark of laughter. "If you were here, you could watch Mamm about to jump out of her chair and grab the phone from me right now."

Michael smiled at that. It was impressive that she had allowed Evan to be the one to talk to him. "She said to be sure to let you know that we have our own fans chasing us."

This time Michael was the one laughing. "Tell her I'm real sorry to be missing that."

"I don't think I will. She never cared for your sarcasm, you know."

"I know." Michael's smile widened. He missed his brother. They knew each other well-so well, that a dozen thoughts could be conveyed in just one or two words. "It's really good to hear from you. I'm glad you called."

"Of course I'm going to call. So, are you bored and restless already?"

"Not yet."

"That's gut. I'm surprised, but happy to hear that. Actually, I was afraid that you were going to have a really hard time when we left you. You don't always do that well when you're alone."

"I haven't been alone."

"Who have you been spending time with?"