The Perfect Groom. Ruth Scofield
you,” she whispered near her aunt’s ear. “She’s new just this morning. Then you can evaluate how well she relates with customers.”
“Oh. Well, of course, dear. Shirley, come look at these lovely candlesticks.”
“Wall sconces,” Ivy said under her breath as her aunt moved away. She began to straighten a cluttered display of tiny ceramic carolers near the checkout counter.
“They’re still candlesticks,” Noah said low.
Ivy glanced over her shoulder, catching the teasing glint in Noah’s eye. One edge of his mouth twitched.
She sighed. He would be picky about exact descriptions. In fact, she could think of several annoying traits she was learning about Noah Thornton. “They’re electric lights in the appearance of brass candlesticks.”
“‘An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips,’” he replied, his tone low and velvety. His words evoked in her a sudden reminder of how attractive he was, and she briefly wondered what it might be like to kiss a gardener.
“Proverbs 24, verse 26.” Aunt Arletta’s voice rang out from across the way, effectively bringing Ivy’s wandering thoughts back with a jolt. Aunt Arletta heard anything quoted from Scripture.
“Right,” he said, raising his voice to carry, then proceeded to nod and smile to the other two customers who glanced their way.
Ivy went to offer them assistance, deciding she could do without this entanglement during working hours. But the natural avoidance only lasted long enough for her to ring up their purchases. Noah hung around the checkout counter, picking up and putting down a trio of ceramic angels.
“I’ll take these, Ivy, if you please,” Shirley said in her shy way as she handed her the wall sconces. “They’re just perfect for my sister’s birthday and Christmas gift combined. She’ll love them.”
“Glad you found what you wanted, Shirley.” Ivy quoted an amply reduced price as she packed them into a gift box.
“Oh, but the price sticker says…” Shirley’s faded eyes went round with happy surprise which Ivy felt more than made up for her lost profits.
“Yes, I know. But you see, I’ve had those in the store for months now and it’s time I turned over the stock. Cash flow, you know,” Ivy insisted staunchly. “I’m just happy you like them.”
“Well, in that case, if you’re sure,” Shirley murmured tentatively.
Behind Shirley, Aunt Arletta smiled with a pleased nod.
From the corner of her eye, Ivy caught Noah’s musing glance of approval.
What? Just because she wanted to make a decent living and an occasional profit as well, even hoped to make her store really successful, she couldn’t be generous when a little charity was in order? So she’d fibbed just a bit. Those candlesticks would have eventually sold at the retail price, but Ivy knew how tight Shirley’s budget was, knew she lived on a fixed income just as Aunt Arletta did. She also knew when not to call her generosity by the name of charity.
Did that mean her answer no longer merited a kiss?
Shocked at her own shot of disappointment at the unbidden thought, she quickly glanced away.
Moments later, Noah’s silent response, given swiftly as they left the store, glinted from half-closed lids. His brown eyes made her a promise. A promise Ivy felt all the way to her toes.
About ten minutes before closing, Ivy glanced up and spotted Gerald pausing to gaze at her window display. He wore a camel-colored cashmere topcoat, and his hair gleamed like spun gold in the streetlight.
Like his sister, once he came inside, he gravitated toward the artists’ wall and studied the work Ivy featured. He was used to viewing the finer art galleries with their high price tags, she was certain, while her artists were still struggling to make a name for themselves. Covertly, she studied his expression for a reaction.
Ivy strolled to stand beside him. “Hi.”
He turned and smiled beguilingly as though he knew it was she. As if he were used to being admired.
“Hi, yourself. My meeting turned out shorter than I anticipated.” He glanced around the store, empty now except for Sherri. “Any chance you can get out of here early?”
“Oh…” She thought of all she needed to do to wrap up the closing. Straightening the counter displays could wait until Monday morning, and Brad already waited in the back room to clean the floors. She supposed she could speed up her day’s receipt count, but she still had to drop her deposit in the bank.
“Thirty minutes, Gerry. Sorry, but a working girl has to pay attention to her p’s and q’s. Why don’t I meet you at Barlow’s? They’re open ‘til ten.”
He shrugged. “All right, if you must.”
Ivy pushed to close the store. Exactly twenty-five minutes later, Ivy slid into a booth across from Gerry. The impatience he wore left the moment she sat down.
“Ah, there you are. Thought you’d be forever.”
Smiling, she let his flattering gaze soothe her nagging guilt at leaving too much work undone. “I came as quickly as possible.”
“You have a nice little shop, Ivy. But I’m sure much of what you do can be delegated to your employees. That’s what you have them for, you know.”
“Mmm…Well, I’m here now.” Ivy smiled at him and the smile he gave her in return made her pulse quicken.
Yes, Gerry Reeves was exactly the type of man she’d been looking for.
The monthly potluck had been pronounced kickback time for busy people, Noah’d been told. No one dressed up for these events. Jeans and sneakers, or something equally comfortable was the dress code. Nevertheless, he’d bought new sneakers for the occasion, pulled out his favorite college T-shirt, and even made an effort to press his best flannel shirt to wear over it. He hadn’t had this kind of a date in a long time.
Ivy looked about sixteen wearing a faded blue T-shirt and jeans when she met him at the apartment door, ready to go and carrying a covered cake plate. She answered, “Aunt Arletta” when he raised a questioning brow.
He led her to his freshly washed red pickup and opened the wide passenger door. She shot him an unreadable glance and shifted the cake and her purse before grabbing the doorframe. He put a hand to her elbow and lifted. She was light on her feet and slid gracefully onto the bench seat—but she didn’t go very far over toward the driver’s side.
Letting his breath out slowly, Noah wondered what it would take to make Ivy feel more cozy toward him. Nothing about their friendship so far had given him any encouragement toward thinking she might fall for him in any big way. If his gut instinct hadn’t told him better, he’d say she was attracted but fighting to keep acres of distance between them.
She made small talk on the ten-minute drive to the church. Or rather, he made idle comments on the weather or local events while she answered politely but without much interest. It seemed her thoughts were elsewhere.
They arrived just in time to join the circle of about thirty people, mixed singles who met once a month for fellowship and sustenance, both spiritual and . mundane, as they laid a table groaning with combined food. Aunt Arletta had told him about the group. More women than men, it contained the never-marrieds and widowed, but also the divorced singles, all of whom had left their first blush of youth behind them. They used the group to fill in the gaps of their lives, shared prayers, and frequently helped each other out on a personal level, as well. According to Arletta’s comments, this bunch offered comradery with an open heart.
He hoped