Free Dreaming August by Terri-Lynne Defino Page B

with me.”
    “Huh?”
    “Just come on.”
    Dan resisted the urge to hold out his hand for hers. She wouldn’t take it, and he’d be a fool twice over. Instead, he led her to the detached garage, and switched on the light. He and Evelyn kept no cars in there, only his landscaping equipment, the plow for his truck, and the sleigh-cum-carriage he took out at Christmas for the sleigh-rides on the green. The same carriage he had taken Benny out in on Valentine’s Day.
    “Over there.” He helped her navigate around and between things, taking her arm instead of her hand. The broken-off slab of cement leaned up against the far wall, just where it had been the last two years. Benny squatted down before it. She traced the initials—PF, VF, and AF—then the handprints. Dan squatted down just beside and behind her, his knee almost touching the small of her back.
    The silence stretched while she stared, her fingers tracing and tracing as if trying to prove what she saw was real. Dan’s knees began to ache, but he would not move, not when she was so close her flower scent made his head light, the heat of her body aroused. So close he could almost hear her thoughts.
    “Why did you save this?” she asked without turning.
    “I just couldn’t do it,” he said. “Tossing them out with the rest of the rubble? Just couldn’t.”
    “That’s really sweet.” She glanced over her shoulder. “So unlike you, right?”
    “Totally out of character.”
    “If only the world knew what an asshole you really are.” They laughed together. Dan’s knees popped as he rose. Benny stayed where she was.
    “What are you going to do with it?” she asked.
    “I wanted to work it into the pavers, but Evelyn thought it was creepy. I figure I’ll hide it out beyond the arbor where she won’t even notice it. Those little hands belong here, don’t you think?”
    Benny rose slowly to her feet. Dan reached to help her, and though she didn’t need his help, she took his hand. Benedetta Marie Grady was flighty and whimsical, but she was not incapable even if her grief made her seem fragile. Dan knew better than to believe it, or wish it, for a second.
    “I think they do, too,” she answered. “Thanks for showing me.”
    “You’ll keep my secret, right?”
    “The secret from Evelyn about your sinister plan for the creepy handprints? Or the no-secret about you being such a mush?”
    “Both.”
    “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”
    “It’s all I can ask.”
    He led her back through the obstacle course of his garage, closing the door softly behind them. Back in the night garden, she breathed deeply.
    “I smell lilies.”
    Dan moved to his bed of Casablanca lilies and snapped one from its stem. He held it out to her. “Casablancas,” he said. “I get them over at White Flower Farm, in Morris.”
    Her eyes met his. She took the lily, their fingers grazing and sending a jolt up Dan’s arm. He rubbed at the hair suddenly standing on end.
    “I love White Flower Farm,” she said. “It’s been years since I even thought about going.”
    “Probably since you started working at Savvy’s.”
    “Yeah, you’re probably right. She doesn’t grow exotic plants, though. And it’s hard to get there on my scooter.”
    Was she hinting? Dan cleared his throat. “Well, you should come with me next time I go.”
    “I’d like that.”
    Score! “They know me there. I get a discount.”
    “Or course you do.” Benny sniffed at the flower. “Because you’re such an asshole, I guess, they can’t wait to get you off the premises.”
    “Must be it.”
    “Must be.”
    The easy silence settled over them, around them. Benny’s smile didn’t fade, but the longer the silence lingered, the more Dan felt the need to fill it.
    “You sure you won’t come in? There’s a ton of food left over.”
    “No, thanks. It’s getting late. I already ate, anyway.”
    “Let me walk you to your scooter then,” he said. “Where’d you park it? I