“I’ll let them stay.”
“Good.”
“It’s not like I could get rid of them on my own,” she muttered.
“You’re always gracious. That’s one of the things I like about you. Want to come over for dinner this week?”
The change in topic caught her off guard. “Dinner?”
“At my place. With Brittany. Just the three of us.”
Nicole didn’t know what to say. Inviting her to his house wasn’t a public date designed to further the lie that they were a real couple. It actually felt like a real date. Did she want that?
Stupid question, she told herself, remembering all the recent fluttering. “I’d love to.”
“How about Wednesday night? I’ll cook.”
“I look forward to it.” Maybe more than she should.
NICOLE ARRIVED at Hawk’s house close to five-thirty. He and Brittany lived in one of the older Seattle neighborhoods with mature trees and houses with great architectural detail. The lawns were green, the porches wide, and kids’ toys lined the sidewalks. Not exactly the sort of place one would expect to find a former NFL player worth millions.
She parked on the street and walked up to the front door. Hawk opened it before she knocked.
“Hi,” he said, drawing her in, then kissing her.
She closed her eyes and got lost in the feel of his mouth on hers. Heat grew, wanting stirred, then she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and reluctantly pulled back.
“Hi, yourself,” she managed, hoping she wasn’t blushing. “This is not anywhere I would have pictured you.”
“What do you mean?”
“A middle-class neighborhood with lots of families. Where are the gates and the fancy cars?”
He laughed. “Not my style. Serena and I bought this place when I got my first signing bonus. After the small house we lived in during college, this place seemed like a mansion. We like it here. It’s home.”
Brittany burst into the entryway. “Hey, Nicole. How are you? Dad said he’s cooking, but it’s just barbecuing, which doesn’t count. He’ll make us put together the salad. Want to see the house?”
If only they could harness Brittany’s energy and use it to power a hospital or something, Nicole thought with a grin. “I’d love to see the house.” She set down her purse on the small table in the entryway. “I like craftsman-style homes. All the details and built-ins.”
Brittany wrinkled her nose. “It’s old, you mean. When I’m on my own, I want a high-rise condo with a view.”
“How do you plan to pay for your fancy condo?” Hawk asked.
Brittany beamed at him. “You’ll buy it for me, Daddy, because you love me.”
He grunted a response, but Nicole saw the humor in his eyes. Hawk wasn’t just pretty-he had a great relationship with his daughter. She liked that about him.
“Here’s the living room,” Brittany said, leading the way. “All the moldings are original. Even the dental molding, which is unusual for the time period. We think the builder brought it from another house. Maybe one he’d owned before.”
Nicole looked around at the crowded room. The dental molding was the least of it, she thought, taking in the oversize floral-print sofas and the knickknacks dotting every surface. While she usually loved the casual hominess of country-style decorating, this was country on steroids.
There were plenty of country prints on the throw pillows and curtains, braided rugs on the hardwood floor. A porcelain goose family posed by the fireplace and silk flower arrangements filled every corner. There were colored glass dishes and little bunnies on tables, along with photographs. Lots and lots of photographs.
Nicole walked toward a display on the wall. The grouping showed a younger Hawk with a pretty young woman. Serena, Nicole guessed. There were pictures of them laughing, wedding portraits, a few from an NFL ceremony. More photos showed happy parents with a pretty toddler.
The photos on the mantel showed Brittany from birth to age ten or so.
The room felt oppressively crowded-like a museum on crack. It reminded her of her grandma’s house. Too hot, with too much stuff. She wouldn’t have been more surprised to find faux fur and leather handcuffs.
The dining room was more of the same. The country theme continued with floral-print wallpaper and built-in cabinets filled with old-fashioned dishes. There were several cross-stitched sayings framed and hung on the walls.
Nicole felt awkward and out of place. This wasn’t a house-this was a shrine to a lifestyle lost. She would bet that nothing had changed since the day Serena died.
She turned to Hawk and Brittany and forced a smile. “It’s all lovely. Did Serena make these herself?” she asked, pointing to the stitched sayings.
Brittany nodded. “She was teaching me how to cross-stitch when she died.”
“Handmade projects give a house a real homey feeling,” she murmured, not sure what else to say. Hadn’t Hawk ever wanted to move on? Keeping Serena’s memory alive was one thing, but this?
“Serena was into flowers and lots of bright colors,” Hawk said. “I thought about changing a few things, but didn’t see the point. This is the home she left for us.”
And why would he want to change that? Nicole thought, stunned by what she was seeing. Until this second, she’d never thought of Hawk as a widower. She’d known his wife had died, but hadn’t considered he was still in mourning. Or at least living his life the way Serena would have wanted it. He always seemed too powerful and take-charge. This was totally unexpected.
The house was a shrine to Serena and screamed to any guest that she shouldn’t bother getting comfortable. The crowded photographs on the wall proved there wasn’t room for anyone else.
The tour of the downstairs continued. The house was large with a big family room, an equally massive eat-in kitchen, a library and a study Hawk used as a home office. Even there Serena’s touch was visible. Silk flowers nestled up against football trophies.
Nicole felt as if the walls were closing in on her. When Hawk suggested they step outside, she was grateful to be able to breathe again.
But her relief was short-lived. While Hawk fired up the barbecue and then opened a bottle of wine, Brittany led the way to Serena’s special garden.
“She loved flowers,” the teenager said. “She planted them every year. My dad and I plant the same ones. We want her garden to look exactly as it did when she was alive. There’s herbs, too. Every time we use them we’re reminded of her.”
Nicole murmured that it was all so lovely, but on the inside, her head was spinning. What was Hawk trying to prove? That no one would be welcome in his life who wasn’t Serena? Did he even know what he was doing? Telling anyone who visited that she would never measure up to the memory of his late wife? Had he brought her here to warn her away?
CHAPTER TWELVE
DINNER TURNED OUT to be more pleasant than Nicole had thought. Talk turned to something other than Serena, although she ate her steak with the constant need to look over her shoulder to see if someone was watching. She did her best to shake the feeling of not being welcome, telling herself that Hawk wouldn’t have invited her if he hadn’t wanted to spend the evening with her.
After they’d carried their plates into the kitchen, Brittany led the way into the family room.
“I want to show you something,” she said, sitting on the sofa.
Nicole reluctantly settled next to her, wondering if home movies would be next.
She was close, she realized, as Brittany pulled several photo albums off built-in shelves and set them on the big coffee table in front of the couch.
“Aren’t these great?” the teen asked, flipping open the first one and pointing to a high school dance picture
