“I’ll cut the heads off the roses. I don’t know. How do you punish a gardener?”
He gave her a look that almost made her blush. “That’s the most interesting question I’ve been asked all day.”
She was quickly developing a dislike of the man. Jocelyn looked at her watch. “I have to go. I’m meeting someone.”
“Yeah, Rams. He’s over there working up a sweat to make a fairyland for you two.”
“That was nasty of you to ruin the surprise.”
“Waste of time, if you ask me.”
She gave him a look up and down that she hoped was full of contempt. “But then I suppose your idea of a date is a six-pack and a bag of potato chips.”
“Corn chips,” he said. “I like corn chips. I especially like those blue ones. She shows up with blue corn chips and a six of Samuel Adams and she just might get lucky.”
“I guess that’s supposed to be funny.”
“Just being honest.”
“You’re like so many men I’ve met—and never want to meet again.” She went to the back door to open it and leave, but he blocked her way.
“You can’t leave yet. Rams said he’d ring the bell when he’s ready.”
“He sent you over here to detain me?”
“He’s not that dumb. He sent me to tell Sara to keep you busy, but he forgot to ask me if Sara was here. Why don’t you sit down and be still so you don’t wrinkle your pretty new dress? I’m going to make myself a sandwich. I’d offer you one, but Rams has enough food for half the town over there, so you better not eat now.”
She was standing at the end of Sara’s Formica-clad counter and considering what to do next. Stay here and have this vain man laugh at her for things she didn’t understand, or leave and spoil Ramsey’s surprise? All in all, she thought that she’d rather see Ramsey than stay here with this man.
Jocelyn turned just as Luke went to put his sandwich ingredients on the counter. Her arm hit his hand, and the plastic mustard dispenser squirted on her. Bright yellow mustard went down the front of her white dress.
“You did that on purpose,” she said. “You meant to do that.”
“No I didn’t,” he said, and sounded truly contrite. “Honest, I didn’t.” Gone was the attitude and the half smirk he’d worn since he’d pushed his way into the apartment. “I am sorry. Really.”
Turning, he grabbed a clean dishcloth off the rack over the sink and wet it. “Here,” he said, “let me help you.”
She held her blouse out from her chest as she thought about how she could slip back into the house and change without seeing Ramsey. But he said he was going to set up the picnic on the floor. If that meant the hall, there was no way she could get past him—which meant she was going to meet him with her front covered in mustard.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Jocelyn and Luke turned toward the back door and there stood a man she was sure was Ramsey. He was an inch or two shorter than Luke and a bit heavier, but he had the same dark hair and green eyes, and almost the same nose and chin. They were two truly gorgeous men.
Jocelyn looked from Ramsey to Luke and saw that he was hovering over the front of her with a wet cloth. Instantly, she stepped out of his reach. “He threw mustard on me,” she said, her eyes on Ramsey.
Ramsey looked at Luke with a threat in his eyes.
Luke threw up his hands. “Accident. I swear. She’s yours.” With his hands still up, he backed out of the room, and she heard the front door open and close.
“Are you all right?” Ramsey asked.
“Fine. Really, I am, but I look awful. I wanted to at least be presentable when we met.”
“You look great!” Ramsey said with such enthusiasm that she smiled back.
“You’re very kind.”
“No I’m not. I’m a lawyer, remember? How about if we go to your house, the main part of it, that is, and have something to eat? Are you hungry?”