Stopping in the shade of a tree, Daisy turned and held out the covered dish. “I baked you a pie. To say thank you for the flowers.”
“You didn't have to.” I stepped closer and plucked the covered dish from her hands.
“I wanted to. The flowers were beautiful.”
“I'm glad you liked them,” I said, holding on to the dish with my free hand, the scents of fruit and sugar drifting up now that we were far enough away from the bonfire. “What kind of pie did you bake me?”
“Mixed berry,” she said, shifting her weight as if preparing to flee.
I hooked my arm through hers again, drawing her deeper into the gardens. Everything back here was a mess. My father had let them go and Hawk had been too busy to move his small landscaping crew back here. Someday they'd be restored, but for now, they were at the bottom of Griffen's renovation list.
I led Daisy to a wrought iron bench, and we sat in the shade of a tree looking out over the scrubby remains of Heartstone Manor's formal gardens.
“Why mixed berry? Was that the pie of the day?”
Daisy glanced up at me and thought for a minute before saying, “You struck me as a man who appreciates variety and a little tart with his sweet.”
“You'd be right. And maybe I should be embarrassed to say so, but I'm hiding this pie, so I don't have to share it with everyone else.”
Daisy laughed, the sound a relief after the tension of the past few hours. “I wouldn't want to share it either. I'm greedy when it comes to pie.”
“Would you think less of me if I tell you I've been hoarding your brownies?”
I'll admit I asked just to get another laugh out of her. She didn't disappoint me, the sound of it soaking into my soul just as the first laugh had. I could spend all day just making this woman laugh.
I looked down to the curve of her lip, the length of her gracefully crossed legs. I wanted to run my hands over all of her smooth skin. I liked to make her laugh, but I'd like it even more if I could do it while we were naked.
One thing at a time, I reminded myself. She still wasn't sure she wanted to be here. The last thing I needed was to scare her off before she made up her mind, which made my next move debatable. But there was no reward without risk, and Daisy was worth taking a chance.
“Why don't you stay for dinner?”
She shifted on the bench, putting more space between us. “I—I wouldn't want to impose. I didn't think about it being so close to dinner. Grams is handling closing, and I thought I'd run over here and give you the pie after Tenn said you were here and not at The Inn, but I couldn't impose for dinner.”
“Do you have other plans?” I probed.
“Not really, but I'm not dressed to eat dinner… here.” She looked over her shoulder at the imposing rear view of Heartstone Manor. Even with the gardens a mess, the house was beautiful, towering above us, the wings extending to the sides of the main building like arms embracing the gardens.
“We don't dress for dinner anymore.” I thought of Parker in the cocktail dress she'd worn the night before. “Well, most of us don't dress for dinner. Sterling was wearing pretty much the same thing you are.”
Daisy wore khaki shorts and a pink polo shirt with the bakery's logo embroidered on the chest. She looked casually professional and far more presentable than the way some of us had shown up to dinner.
“Hope will be there. She didn't have a great day. She's been sick as a dog, and I'm sure she'd love to see you.”
I wasn't above using Daisy's friendship with Hope to get my way. I didn't know why she was so gun shy, but I had every intention of finding out.
First, I had to get her to trust me.
Chapter Fifteen
royal
Why don't we go back in the house, I'll stash this pie somewhere secret, and we'll get you a glass of wine. Or beer. Or whatever you want. Except the vodka Sterling used to start that fire.”
“She poured vodka on it to get it started?” Daisy laughed again. I was getting addicted to the sound of her laugh, the spark in her eyes when she was amused. “It's fitting, I guess. Sterling pouring out the vodka to burn—what did she burn?”
“Her debutante gown. And the vodka.”
“And you? What did you burn?”
“The trophy of a bear my father lied about killing. When I was a kid, I always wanted to set that bear free.”
“And now you have. Did it feel good?”
I stretched out my arms along the back of the bench, one hand landing barely an inch from Daisy's shoulder, and tipped my head back to look at the sun-dappled branches above us. “Yeah, it did. It felt fucking great.”