He wanted to be honest with her about everything—everything but the part of him no one was allowed to know about. “I’m not sure.”
“Well now,” she told him, “that thought’s nearly feminine.”
He snickered into his mug, appreciating her humor almost as much as her capacity to care about a broken-down former corpsman like himself.
“There are any number of men who’d have taken offense at that comparison.”
His gaze met hers. “I’m not like other men.”
She slowly smiled. “That’s why I’m not ready to let you chase me away, Jack.” She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. “If I wanted to be with someone predictable, I would be. I want to be with someone who gets me, who understands my need to drive out past McCormack’s on a soft spring night just so I can smell the field he’s spent the day plowing.”
“You like dogs.”
Her smile broadened. “The more rascally, the better,” she told him. “But I also like chickens, horses, cows, and peeper frogs.”
He laughed, a full belly laugh this time. “You’re quite a woman, Ms. Mulcahy,” he said, rising to his feet.
“That’s what my dad tells me.”
“He’s right.” Jack held his hand out to her, palm up, waiting for her to put her trust and her hand in his. “How do you feel about turtles and snakes?”
“Box or painter turtles, yes. Snapping turtles, no—long story. It involves a gorgeous fish I’d just caught and the big old snapper that lives in the lake.”
“Understandable. Snapping turtles get greedy sometimes.”
“My dad still doesn’t believe that I caught such a big largemouth bass, even though Peggy swears it was.”
He grinned. “Ah, the one that got away with an imaginative twist.”
She was laughing with him. “I see your point, but still…”
“What about snakes?”
“You were serious?” she asked. “I thought you were trying to get a rise out of me. Who the heck likes snakes?”
“I do.”
She was silent for so long he thought it might be a deal breaker, until she asked, “Do you like them outside or in the house?”
Hugging her close, he told her, “Outside.”
“That’s all right then,” she said, tilting her head back to look up at him. “Now inside”—she let her words trail off as she brushed the tips of her fingers back and forth over his bottom lip—“would have been a deal breaker for me.”
“You’re a keeper, Cait.”
“I’m so glad you’re not tossing me back.”
He covered her mouth with his and savored the taste of her. “Mmm…” he said at last. “Bacon-flavored woman…my favorite.”
When Jamie yipped to get their attention and be let outside, Jack kept his arm around her, steering her out the door and onto the deck. Easing her back against him, he held on to her as the clouds slowly brightened and the early birds started to sing.
“Don’t give up on me, Caitlin.”
“Not a chance, Jack.”
Jamie ambled up onto the deck and jumped at the back door. “I guess he’s finished.”
“We still have an hour or so before I need to get a cleaned up. Will you come with me?”
She didn’t hesitate, following him inside. “Where?”
“I need to grab a blanket.”
“What for?”
“You’ll see,” he told her, pleased that she wanted to go with him. A few minutes later, he returned, found Jamie’s leash, and clipped it on him. “If you take him,” he said, “I’ll carry the rest.”
“Where to?”
“There’s a knoll on the edge of the property that’s higher than the rest. There’s a break in the trees perfect for—”
“Watching the sunrise,” she finished for him. “I’d love to.”
The grassy rise between a wide break in the tall pines was perfect. He laid the blanket on the ground. Even though it wasn’t as wet as he’d feared, it was damp enough that he was worried Cait’d be uncomfortable. He should have known better; she never complained. Sitting beside him with the dog on her lap, he figured she was just about perfect. Watching the sun paint the sky with reds and oranges that faded to yellow with Cait at his side, the remnants of fear tangled up in his gut finally dissipated.
“I’m sure my father will want to get an early start,” she said, snuggling closer. “That sky doesn’t bode well for a sunny day.”