He murmured something that might have been a thank-you. He didn’t say anything else until Celia guided the car onto the Queen Isabella Causeway, the curving, two-and-a-half-mile bridge that spanned Laguna Madre Bay to provide access between South Padre Island and Port Isabel on the mainland.
“Do you have any particular destination in mind?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as they left the resort behind.
“You like history, right?”
“Yes.”
“According to the tourist pamphlets I’ve been looking over during the past couple of days, this area’s crawling with it. The Port Isabel lighthouse. Fort Brown. A bunch of battlefields from the Mexican War and the Civil War. Lots of museums and stuff. Any of that sound interesting to you?”
“Yes,” he admitted with a smile. “But what about you? Are you interested in history? Military history?”
“Not particularly,” she answered candidly. “But anything’s better than sitting in my room with a dumb book. I might as well broaden my mind, since I have nothing better to do.”
Reed chuckled.
Realizing how ungracious she’d sounded, Celia groaned and slapped a hand to her forehead. She placed it back on the wheel quickly, to Reed’s obvious relief. Both of them were aware that the long, busy bridge was no place to start swerving again.
“I’m sorry, Reed. I didn’t really mean that I’ve kidnapped you for the afternoon for lack of anything better to do. I just thought since we’re both here on our own, and both having trouble finding anything to do at the resort, maybe we could keep each other company for a while. I suppose I should have given you a chance to say something.”
“I’m glad you’ve kidnapped me,” Reed assured her. “I’d like to see the local sights with you. As I said, I’m not very good at this vacation business.”
Celia slanted him a smile. “Neither am I.”
He smiled back at her, and she thought again that he was a very attractive man. She liked his smile and his nice hazel eyes. She wondered if he had anyone waiting for him back home in Cleveland. And if he did, what was he doing here alone?
Their gazes held for a moment. And then Reed cleared his throat, tapped the dash and recalled her attention to her driving. “I think we’ll enjoy ourselves more if we arrive in one piece,” he suggested teasingly.
Celia laughed and turned her full concentration to her driving. “I’m sure you’re right. Hang on, friend. We’re off to have fun—even if it kills us.”
“What a pleasant thought,” Reed remarked wryly, but he seemed to relax when she did.
Maybe this would be fun, after all, Celia mused with a faint smile.
It was always nice to make a new friend.
Chapter Three
Reed proved to be a very pleasant companion for an afternoon. Polite—almost excessively so, at first—considerate, interesting when he finally relaxed enough to carry on a conversation.
He hadn’t been kidding about his interest in history, Celia thought at one point during the afternoon. It seemed to fascinate him. Just show him a historical marker or a battered old weapon or a scrap of hundred-year-old paper covered with faded, indecipherable writing, and those nice hazel eyes of his lighted up like beacons behind his sensible glasses.
She had rather expected to be bored. She was almost surprised to find out that she wasn’t. Using a map they picked up at a visitor information booth, they scouted out several local tourist attractions. Reed seemed almost comically worried that Celia wasn’t having a good time; she assured him repeatedly, and quite sincerely, that she was having a lovely day.
“Celia,” Reed said as she drove away from the final museum late that afternoon. “We’ve been exploring sites of interest to me all afternoon. Surely there’s something you’d like to do before we go back to the resort.”
Glancing at the many tourist attractions around them, Celia nodded. “Actually, there is.”
“What is it?” he asked encouragingly.
She spun the wheel of the Mercedes, swinging into a parking lot. “I want food,” she said with a grin. “And not that elegant cuisine served in the Alexander’s restaurant. I want something greasy and fattening and totally non-nutritious. A cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate milk shake.”
She parked in front of a building decorated with the universally recognized golden arches. “Perfect,” she pronounced.
She looked at Reed, who was looking back at her with a solemn expression. She frowned. “Fast food doesn’t appeal to you?” Don’t tell me he’s a strict vegetarian or a health-food nut. She groaned inwardly.
“Well, there is one change I’d like to suggest to your menu,” he said diffidently.
Probably wanted to add a salad to appease his conscience, Celia thought wryly. “What change would you like to make, Reed?” she asked patiently.