The Orchard at the Edge of Town by Shirlee McCoy Page B

sparkle.
    â€œYou’ve got an awfully good attitude for a woman who was—” He stopped short of saying what had popped into his head. No sense rubbing salt in an open wound.
    â€œJilted?” She finished for him. “I told you. I wasn’t. I was left waiting. For a long time.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œI decided I didn’t want to wait any longer. He showed up right around the time I was telling my family the wedding was off.”
    There was probably more to the story, but he didn’t ask and she didn’t tell. That would be a little too much like getting to know each other, and Simon didn’t think either of them wanted to do that.
    â€œIs this one of the windows Jet replaced?” she asked, crouching in front of the double-pane glass and touching the oak framing.
    â€œYes.” He crouched beside her. “He used wood from an old house that had been demolished, and cut molds to match the frames that weren’t dry-rotted.
    â€œIt’s gorgeous,” she murmured, running long fingers over the smooth wood. Her nails were unvarnished and short, her face makeup-free, a few long strands of hair escaping her ponytail.
    She didn’t look high maintenance, but her wedding dress sure had been. If he’d based his assessment of Apricot’s nature on that, he’d say she was the kind of woman who liked fine dining and spa treatments, who liked fancy furniture and expensive jewelry. The kind of woman who wouldn’t blink an eye at spending thousands of dollars on a dress she was only going to wear one day.
    He and Megan had argued about that.
    Funny how he was just now remembering.
    Two weeks after they’d gotten engaged, Megan had told him her grandparents had put aside five thousand dollars for the dress. He’d suggested she spend half that and they could use the rest for a down payment on a house. She hadn’t liked the idea. She hadn’t even liked that he’d had it. It had been their first big argument, and he thought it had surprised both of them. In the end, she’d had her fancy dress, and they’d lived in an apartment for the first two years they were married. He hadn’t minded all that much. He’d loved Megan, would have lived in a hovel with her if that’s what they’d had to do to be together.
    â€œHow many windows and frames did he put in?” Apricot asked, pulling him from the memory.
    â€œAll the windows were replaced. He rebuilt the frames in here and in the kitchen.” He glanced toward the dining room. The girls were being very, very quiet. “I can take you in there.”
    â€œIf they look as good as these, there’s no need.” She brushed the stray hair off her face, tucked it back into the ponytail holder, the gesture unconsciously feminine and much more appealing than Simon wanted it to be.
    Time to get her out of the house, because his mind was heading places it shouldn’t be going unless he wanted to get himself involved in something that would take way more time than he had.
    He straightened, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “In that case, I’ll walk you to the door.”
    â€œAm I being kicked to the curb, Simon?” she asked with a grin that made him notice the deep blue of her eyes and the freckles on her cheeks.
    â€œJust out the front door,” he responded. “I have to feed the girls dinner.”
    â€œMuch as I’d like to allow myself to be kicked out without the kittens, leaving them with you seems like the wrong thing to do.”
    The kittens. Right. He’d almost forgotten. Something about looking in her eyes was messing with his brain!
    â€œGirls!” he called. “Apricot has to leave.”
    They came running into the room, the box wrapped in a bright pink blanket and cradled between them.
    â€œQuiet, Daddy,” Evie said solemnly. “They’re sound asleep.”
    â€œMust be their full tummies