Sid wasn’t used to accepting compliments. This one went down like a sardine can, odd-sized and hard to swallow, but she did her best.
“Would you like some wine?” he asked. “I have beer in the cooler, if you’d prefer that.”
She was not about to ruin his elegant evening by drinking a beer. “Wine is fine, thanks.”
Sliding the linen napkin across her lap, Sid wished she’d known what Lucas had been planning so she might have asked Curly how to behave. This whole setup was out of her league. More proof she did not belong in Lucas’s life on a permanent basis.
“How was work?” he asked, dropping his own napkin across his lap. “Busy?” Lucas poured and Sid considered mentioning the phone call, but the timing didn’t feel right.
“Not really, which is strange. The crowds are usually much bigger in August.”
“Do you remember what it was like last year?” he asked, seemingly very interested in her answer.
She thought back. “Thinner than the year before, but not this bad.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“What do you mean?” Sid sipped the white, surprised by the smooth, buttery taste.
Lucas sat back and swirled the liquid in his glass. “Nothing,” he said, failing to meet her eye. “Time to unveil the main course.”
Not the most graceful change of subject, but she let it pass as Lucas reached across the table and lifted her silver dome away. An earthy hit of goodness nearly overwhelmed her senses, causing her mouth to water instantly. “This explains why the house smells so good. Did you really make this?”
“I did,” Lucas said proudly. “I’ve been perfecting this recipe for about two years. Surprising how easy it was to find all the ingredients here on the island.”
“Yes,” she said, fork in hand. “What a surprise to find fancy ingredients on a little speck of dirt like Anchor.” Before digging in, she asked, “Are there onions in here?”
“No onions,” Lucas replied with a sheepish grin. “For obvious reasons.”
“If you mean because I’m allergic, then yeah, obvious.”
“Wait,” Lucas leaned toward her. “You’re allergic to onions?”
“Just cooked ones. I can eat them raw, which makes no sense, but it’s true.”
“That’s awful.” The concern on his face was almost comical.
“Not really.” Sid picked up the butter knife to cut her chicken, but it fell apart with the first stab of her fork. “I haven’t eaten anything this fancy that wasn’t cooked in a restaurant since before I left Florida.”
“Did your mom cook a lot?” Lucas asked, then took his first bite. “Man, I amaze myself sometimes.”
Sid chuckled. “Your modesty is astounding. Yeah, mom cooked, but my grandmother on my dad’s side was the real queen of the kitchen. She was half Italian and half Puerto Rican, so it was this weird fusion of flavors.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Lucas took another bite and his eyes rolled. She’d never seen a man enjoy his food in quite this way.
“Are you having some kind of food-gasm over there?” Then she took a bite and got an extra hit of flavor. “Holy shit, this is good. I just got a bite of something … smoky?”
“Probably the prosciutto. That I had to steal from Mom’s kitchen.” He licked his lips. “Which means I risked my life to make you this meal. Hope you’ll remember that while you’re deciding how to thank me.”
His brows wiggled up and down, earning a giggle from Sid. Something she only seemed to do when Lucas was around. “So you were at your mom’s house today?”
There was no way she could enjoy the dinner until she knew if he’d gotten the phone call.
“Just this morning,” he said, reaching for his glass. “Then I hit the grocery store, and swiped the umbrellas from the coffee shop.”
“Swiped?” How did one steal patio umbrellas without getting caught? “Wouldn’t it look bad for a lawyer to get busted for umbrella theft?”
“It would probably be bad for anyone to get busted for umbrella theft. Technically, I borrowed them.”
At least she didn’t have to worry he’d be arrested any minute. “Good to hear you stayed on the right side of the law. So you were here in the afternoon then?”
“Sure. I did the cooking here.” He speared a piece of asparagus. “Drillbit wanted to help, but I suggested she stick to observing.”
“My kitten offered to help you make dinner?”
“That’s what I assumed when she clawed her way up my leg and hopped onto the counter before I could wipe off my hands.”
“She didn’t.”
“She did,” he nodded. “Twice.”
Lucas didn’t sound mad. In fact, there was a hint of affection in his voice. “You like that little fur ball, don’t you?”
He set his fork on the table, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and sat back. “Not as much as I like her owner.” This declaration should have been accompanied by Lucas’s best bedroom eyes, but the look on his face said something else. Something she didn’t want to believe, not if he would be leaving in a matter of days.
“You got a call at the restaurant today. I gave him this number.” She pushed a piece of chicken around her plate. “Did he get a hold of you?”
Lucas’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “Um … yeah. He did.” He lowered the bite back to the plate. “Just a work question, that’s all.”
A chill filled her chest as Sid stared at her plate. Questions raced through her mind, but she kept them to herself. He wasn’t going to tell her.
He hated lying to Sid. Hadn’t intended to do it, but his brain backfired when she mentioned talking to Holcomb. Lucas refused to let that call ruin Sid’s night. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to make the evening special, and she deserved all of it after what he’d done.
His efforts at conversation had fallen flat through the rest of the meal. Sid seemed preoccupied, but when he asked if something was wrong, she’d claimed to be fine. Lucas may not have been a master at reading women, but even he knew the word “fine” never really meant fine.
After dinner, he’d pulled the radio from under the table and proceeded to dance with Sid on the pier. Stars filled the sky as if he’d flipped a switch to create the perfect mood lighting. As they swayed, her soft curves pressed along his body, Lucas breathed in the scent of salt air and Sid’s fruity shampoo. He wanted to hold her there forever.
Two more days. He’d have to fit forever into the next forty-eight hours. He had to tell her. Sid deserved to know that he was leaving early. Maybe in the morning. Just not tonight.
When the CD finished and the music faded, Sid stepped back. “Let’s go inside,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him behind her. With a combination of slow deliberation and frantic need, they’d made love with the full moon shining through the window. There were no words. No teasing or laughter. No questions or promises.
Just a woman holding nothing back, and a man saying good-bye.
Order up!” The words came through the kitchen window and Lucas set down the glass in his hand to move the food over to the pickup station. As if some tourist god had answered his silent pleas, Dempsey’s was a madhouse this morning.
The rain probably had more to do with it than divine intervention, but whatever the reason, Lucas was happy to see the dining room full. Sid and Annie were being run to death so they’d called Daisy in an hour before, which lightened the load a bit. He and Sid didn’t talk much before work that morning. They’d cleared the table off the pier before the rain got heavy, then worked together in the kitchen until all evidence of the previous night was cleaned and put away.