When he walked into the dining room with Forbes, Rafe, Kevin, and Jonathan, Meredith’s face was beet red. The intrusion of men into the room broke up the hen party, and couples started discussing getting their kids home for naps or homework.
Meredith jumped up from her seat. “Major, are you ready to go see the house?”
“Sure, if you are.” He had the distinct impression that her aunts, cousins, and sisters had been giving her a hard time about him, thus her eagerness to escape.
“Let’s go, then.” She bade a hasty and general farewell to her relatives and practically dragged him from the house, muttering. He caught random words, such as “meddling” and “privacy,” which confirmed his suspicions.
She didn’t slow down until they arrived at her SUV. “Are you following again or riding?”
“I might as well just follow you over there.” Because he could go straight out to BPC instead of taking the time to come all the way back over here.
Meredith’s house sat deep within the Plantation Grove area of town, where the lots were enormous and the houses no newer than seventy or eighty years old.
From the street, the craftsman bungalow was half hidden by the two huge oak trees in the front yard. Azalea bushes, which were starting to show hints that they’d be blooming soon, lined the base of the porch on either side of the wide steps. From the outside, the house appeared in perfect condition—until the driveway took him around to the back. A large Dumpster blocked access to the carport and detached garage, and construction detritus littered the side yard.
Meredith climbed out of her SUV and held her arms open wide. “Welcome to my house, such as it is.”
“It’s great.” He pocketed his keys and met her at the gate to the backyard. A high-pitched bark seemed to be coming from nearby. “Is there a dog here?”
“I dropped my puppy off over here this morning before church, since I knew I’d be coming by this afternoon to check on the progress.” A much larger puppy than Major had pictured trundled over. Meredith bent down to scoop it up—then apparently changed her mind. “Your feet are muddy.”
Major crouched down beside her, drawing the little guy’s attention—and muddy paw prints on his pant leg. He scratched behind the floppy ears, then on the tubby tummy when the pup rolled onto his back. “What’s his name?”
“I haven’t named him yet.”
“How long have you had him?”
“Since January first. I found him under the back porch.”
“You’ve had him almost two months and you haven’t named him?”
Meredith stood and started for the raised deck. “I don’t really have the time to commit to a puppy—housebreaking, obedience training, and paying attention to him in general.”
Major rocked back onto his heels. If she didn’t think she would have time for a puppy, how could she have time to deal with his mother if he needed her to? But a puppy and a person were different, and her priorities would probably change in that case. “If you were going to keep him, what would you name him?” He joined her on the porch.
“Duke.” She had to jiggle the key in the knob to get it to unlatch. She swung the door open and closed a couple of times. “Good. They rehung this door so it doesn’t scrape the floor anymore.”
“Duke—any special significance?” He followed her into the house.
“It was John Wayne’s nickname.” She flipped a couple of switches, and light flooded the room they were in—the kitchen.
But for the moment, Major had no attention for anything other than what she’d just said. “John Wayne?”
“I know. I’m a weirdo for liking John Wayne movies. But he’s my favorite, and I refuse to apologize for it.” She faced him, arms crossed as if daring him to contradict or tease her.
“Have I ever told you my full name?” He bit the sides of his tongue to keep from smiling.
She frowned, appearing uncertain as to the seemingly random change of subject. “No.”
“Major Daniel Xavier Kirby O’Hara.”
She repeated the name slowly. And a second time. Then understanding flickered in her nutmeg eyes. “Major Dan Kirby ... the character Duke played in Flying Leathernecks?”
“None other. I like John Wayne movies, too. But I am partial to the war movies.”
She braced her hands on the edge of her kitchen island. “I knew there was something I liked about you. But I have to disagree—I like his westerns best.”
How could he ever have doubted that God meant for the two of them to be together? Once he could drag his gaze away from her, he finally took in the sight that surrounded him, and it quickened his heart. The cherry cabinets had been stained to exactly match the original woodwork of the window casings and crown molding. The grayish green granite countertops needed a good cleaning but looked exactly how he’d imagined. All the room lacked were the appliances—the six-burner, commercial-grade stove with double oven; the stainless-steel refrigerator and dishwasher; and the hood with the warming shelf built in.
Oh, yes, he could create the perfect romantic meals for the two of them in this kitchen. As a matter of fact, that would be a great way to celebrate the completion of this room, as well as a perfect time for him to tell Meredith all about Ma.
It would mean talking to Ward Breaux to find out when construction would be finished—and he wondered if Alaine’s crew would mind shooting a segment here, since she said she’d like to get him in some home kitchens every so often.
Meredith toured him through the rest of the house, but Major’s mind was occupied with creating the perfect romantic menu—one that would hopefully make up for the fact he’d been keeping a pretty big secret from her.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Meredith’s words drew him out of his thoughts. “See, this is why I don’t want to deal with owning a dog. I hate cleaning up messes.”
Duke had indeed messed on the protective paper covering the kitchen floor.
“I’ll take care of that if you want to put him outside.” Major tore the paper in a large square around the little pile, pulled the corners up, and carried it out to the Dumpster in the driveway.
Meredith’s attitude about the responsibility of having a puppy niggled him. If she felt so strongly about something as simple as dog poo, how was she ever going to be able to cope with Ma?
Chapter 25
“She said it would be seven o’clock before she’d be able to get here.” Ward leaned against the edge of the island.
Major finished emptying the grocery bags. “That’s perfect. She doesn’t suspect anything even with me here filming today?”
“Just that there’s something wrong with the house.” Ward crossed his arms and glared at Nelson. The unflappable cameraman continued placing lights around the freshly painted, stained, and polished kitchen.
Pricilla came in with more equipment cases. “I can see why you wanted to film here, Major. Sorry we had to put it off a day.”
He introduced her to Ward. “He’s the man responsible for all this.” Major turned, his hands held out in front of him. “In fact, one of the caveats Meredith gave for allowing us to film here today was to make sure that Ward gets recognition for creating this kitchen. So I’d like to open with a little bit of me talking to him.”
“Whoa—you never said anything about me being on camera.”
“Think of the free publicity,” Major said in a low voice.
Pricilla shrugged. “No problem. The rest of your script is staying the same though, right?”
If one could call the rough outline of what he was going to say a script. “Yes. Want to go over your notes on it?”
He spent the next fifteen minutes going over the plan for the day’s filming while Charla did his makeup and Nelson tested the lighting. Once they finished those tasks, Major rehearsed the blocking of his movements around the unfamiliar space, using Nelson’s guidance to choose where to place the pans, dishes, utensils, and small appliances he’d brought from home and the executive kitchen.