Secrets in Summer(64)

“Let me get a shower first, Darcy. I’m all sweaty.”

“Just the way I like you,” she purred, pressing against him. What was it about his odor that was so sexy? It drew her to him like a moth to a flame.

He put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “First, air conditioners, next shower. Then we’ll see what happens.”

But installing the air conditioners nearly put her over the top. She held the door open while he carried the air conditioners in from the car, moving effortlessly. She followed him up the stairs to her room, unable to ignore the way his muscles bulged in his shoulders and arms, and the long lean line of his back.

He set the air conditioner on the floor. “Which window?”

She’d already studied the situation and decided. The room had two windows facing the street and one facing the narrow lane between her house and the Brueckner’s.

“There,” she said, pointing to a front window. “Can I help?”

“No need.” He raised the window and the screen, lifted the air conditioner into place, lowered the window, and screwed the plastic accordion flaps to the window frame.

“For a lawyer, you really know how to screw,” she joked.

To her surprise, Nash’s face shut down.

“We’re not going there,” he said.

“What?” For a moment, she couldn’t imagine what he meant.

“I’m not a lawyer anymore.”

“But you could be if you wanted to?” she queried.

“I don’t want to. And I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?”

She was stung. A kind of shame flooded her, as if she’d been attempting an intimacy that didn’t exist. She consoled herself, remembering how Jordan said she could never ask Lyle anything important until he’d had a drink and eaten dinner.

“Okay. Let’s get the other one in,” he said. He walked past her and headed down the stairs.

“Right. The other one goes in the living room window. I spend most of my time there. In the summer, I eat salads or takeout.” Darcy knew she was babbling, but she wanted to get away from that uncomfortable moment between them.

Nash worked quickly. When the air conditioner was in place, he turned it on. It hummed and gurgled and warm air swept into the room and finally the cool air arrived.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Darcy told Nash. “Want a beer?”

“What I’d really like is a shower.”

“Disappointing as that is, go ahead, help yourself. I’ll get dinner ready.” She sighed with relief. The awkwardness between them had disappeared.

Nash headed back up the stairs. Darcy went into the kitchen and found Muffler sitting by his food bowl, glaring at her indignantly.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t I feed you yet?” Darcy filled his bowl with the gourmet moist food the cat liked, then set about getting the human dinner ready. She’d made a pan of mac and cheese with lobster the night before, and she heated it in the microwave while she sliced beefsteak tomatoes and sprinkled them with oregano. When she heard Nash coming down the stairs, she opened a beer and carried it to him, and burst out laughing. He was wearing her turquoise kimono, and it barely met at the front even with the cloth tie.

“Couldn’t tolerate getting back into those clothes,” Nash explained.

Darcy laughed. “It’s a good look for you. Plus I can hardly wait to see what happens when you sit down.”

They went into the living room, which was nicely cool and dry. Nash sat, and the robe parted, exposing pretty much all of him.

“I can’t eat like this,” he grumbled.

“Let me get you one of my sheet towels,” Darcy said. “You can wrap it around your waist and keep your treasures secret.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

As she went into the laundry room and fished a clean towel from the drier, a thought occurred to her. Should Nash keep a set of fresh clothes here? He ate here several times a week, and the heat wave was not going to be over any time soon. But if she proposed it to him—did that seem like she was pushing for something more, something serious?

She brought him the towel and watched him wrap it around his torso.

“That’s better,” he said.

“Not for me,” she joked, but he’d already turned the television on and the Red Sox were playing Cleveland. “I’ll bring in dinner.”

“Need some help?”

“No, it’s easy.” She filled two plates, put them on a tray with utensils and napkins and carried it in.

“Thanks,” Nash said. “This looks great.” Before she could respond, he yelled, “Ramirez, get a grip!”