Page 47 of Moonshine and Magnolias
Talking about him. “Some financial stuff and organizing the reenactment. Assigning booths and figuring out volunteers, that sort of thing,” Wendy said.
“I’ll let you get to it.” Rob started his slide out of the booth.
Jordan stopped him. “There’s no need for you to leave.”
“If you’re sure.” He said it to Jordan, but looked at Wendy instead.
Every fiber in her body yearned to keep him near while her sanity told her to send him on his way. But sanity hadn’t been batting a thousand lately. She put her hands in her lap to keep from reaching out. “Yeah, stay around.”
“Okay. I have some research to do myself until I catch up with Hal.” He tookout his tablet and slid the lock open.
“Right.” Jordan tapped something on her keyboard, then leaned back against the booth and studied her monitor. “Seventy-eight vendors are coming this year. Only thirteen fewer than you thought.” She turned her computer so Wendy could see. “Are you still going to do a memorial for your grandmother?”
Wendy nodded. Rob rested his strong hand on hers under the table for too-short a moment without looking away from his screen. The physical comfort made tears burn behind her eyes.
“That will be nice,” Jordan said. “Let me know if you want help on it.”
“Me, too.” Rob said.
The women went back to their charts and forms, with Jordan asking questions as they arose for the work she didn’t understand. It was a good thing she was there, since Wendy had a hard time keeping her mind on assigning tasks to the lead volunteers with Rob being so close. His hand rested casually between them on the vinyl seat and she stared at his tapered fingers. Fingers that she’d love to feel caressing her head, her back. Her belly. Her breasts.
Her hand slipped from the table and onto her lap at the same moment Rob exited the booth to refill his coffee. His loose jeans did nothing to hide the great shape of his ass, which she took great pleasure in viewing while he walked away.
“Well, didn’t take you long to recover from last night,” Jordan remarked, following her line of sight. “Wow, and with good reason, too.”
Wendy swatted at her friend. “Hush, he’ll hear you.”
Rob picked up his drink, then turned back to them. Wendy grabbed some papers, watching his long-legged stride out of the corner of her eye.
What was she waiting for? She was single. And the man had made no secret he found her attractive. She’d deal with his medical issue. So why not engage in the kind of fling Brandi would have without thinking?
Because she didn’t do things without thinking.
Well, she could now. Apparently planning and organization and scheduling also meant passionless. So she could make all that disappear and work on instinct,right?
She gathered her confidence, then caught Rob’s eye on his return approach, keeping the contact while her cheeks grew hot. His lips twitched as if trying not to grin, making her stomach turn over twenty times of nervous when he retook his seat.
“Do you have someone for grounds work?” Jordan asked, forcing Wendy back to Pansy Hamilton. “You know, to mow the grass or clear away any fallen branches, to keep the trash from overflowing.”
“Mr. Sherman will be back by then, but I know we always hire more hands.” Wendy located another folder on her computer. “He has a small army at his beck and call - local lawn and landscaping companies that will do the work at a discount in exchange for publicity.”
Her hand made its way onto the seat again. She could feel Rob watching its progress with a frank look. His own large hand fell away from his cup and rested on his thigh.
His compliance with her desires made her breasts tingle with anticipation. She shifted against the unfamiliar sensation.
“I don’t get it.” Jordan said.
Wendy snatched her hand back from the seat and rested it on her lap. “Don’t get what?”
“You’ve told me about The Winning of Pansy Hamilton before, but the story, while fascinating, still doesn’t make sense to me. Take it slow.”
“I’d like to know how to win a Pansy Hamilton as well,” Rob said. He kept his hand palm-up on the seat, an open invitation to the path to sin. “I even went to her museum and I still don’t understand.”
Familiar territory. Thank God. “The Hamilton family lived in Claremont since before the Revolutionary War, though their last descendants moved to Boston about forty years ago,” she said. “Pansy Hamilton was rumored to be a quick-witted, beautiful woman with many suitors.”
“So this was in the eighteenth century,” Jordan said.
“That’s the appeal. No one knows exactly. The family Bible has several records of women named Pansy. Could be the seventeen hundreds and the American Revolution. Could be the eighteen hundreds and the Civil War. ”
