A Whole Lot of Love. Justine Davis

both laughed then. It was an old joke with them, had been for a long time, so long that it had become a signal of sorts. On the rare occasions when they did argue, if either of them felt things were getting out of hand, too close to permanent damage being done, those were the code words. Layla had only to say “Bike breaker,” or Stephanie to say “Walkman wrecker,” and the fight was over.

      Stephanie had always told her that someday she would meet the man who would love her for herself. Layla had always laughed it off, but somewhere deep inside she had hoped her friend was right. That someday that man might happen along. But there was no doubt in her mind that, no matter how appealing the thought might be, a man like Ethan Winslow wasn’t him.

      “You’re a hard woman to track down.”

      Layla whirled, almost knocking over her desk chair. Ethan Winslow was standing in her office doorway, lounging against the doorjamb rather nonchalantly.

      “I…hello. I just got here.”

      He nodded toward her desk. “A couple of those messages are from me.”

      “Sorry,” she said. “I usually take some time off after…the auction.”

      “I can understand that. It’s…quite a production. And things like that don’t go as smoothly as that one did without a heck of a lot of work.”

      “Thank you,” she said; most people didn’t think that much about what went on behind the scenes. But she didn’t think he’d come here just to acknowledge that; no doubt he was here to make sure there was no misunderstanding, that she didn’t expect him to really follow through on that bid.

      “Come in,” she said, belatedly remembering her manners.

      He did, grabbed the single chair opposite her desk and sat. He waited until she also took her seat before speaking.

      “So,” he said with a crooked grin that made her pulse speed up a bit, “where are you taking me?”

      So many answers to that raced through her mind that she clamped her jaw to be sure her mouth stayed shut. She had a moment to be grateful she was already seated. After a moment’s desperate thinking, she came up with the perfect diversion.

      “I forgot to check and see…who was your winning bidder?”

      She realized, as he lifted a brow, that she’d betrayed her interest by her words, but he answered easily enough. “Gloria Van Alden. I gather she’s quite the mover and shaker in town.”

      Layla’s nervousness vanished. “Gloria? Lucky you! She’s been everywhere, has the most marvelous stories, and she’s a delightful person, to boot. You’ll have a wonderful time.”

      He smiled at her, so warmly it almost made her blush. “That’s the impression I got when I spoke to her.”

      “You don’t mind that she’s…a mature woman?”

      His smile faded. “Why would I? I’m not looking to marry her, not that it would matter if I was. Besides, she’s younger in the ways that count than a lot of women my age.”

      He sounded insulted, Layla thought. She liked the fact that that was his first reaction. She wasn’t quite sure why, but assumed it was for Gloria’s sake.

      “So, where are you taking me? And when?”

      Layla sighed. “Look, Mr. Winslow—”

      “Ethan, please. If we’re going out on a date, we should at least be on a first-name basis, don’t you think, Ms. Laraway?”

      No, Layla thought, sometimes I don’t think at all….

      “Ethan, then. And Layla, please. I want you to know how much I…appreciate what you did.”

      “Do you?” He leaned back in the chair and steepled his hands in front of him. “I got the impression that night that you wished I’d kept my mouth shut.”

      Startled by his perception, Layla admitted, “I was hoping to just make it go away, treat it like the joke it should have been.”

      “I don’t think he would have let you.”

      Something in the way he said the “he” made her feel absurdly warmed. And gave her the nerve to go on. “That aside, I do appreciate it. But please understand, I never expected you to actually go through with it.”

      And she didn’t. She knew perfectly well that he’d done it out of pity, or sympathy, or some equally repellent emotion. But he seemed a kind enough man, and she truly appreciated that he could be moved to act in such a situation.

      “I never lie, and I always keep my word, Ms. Laraway.”

      “I’m sure you do, but this is…different.”

      “Why?”

      “Because it never should have happened in the first place.”

      “Granted.” He looked at her steadily. “If you can’t stand even a single evening with me, just say so.”

      Layla gaped at him. How could he imagine any woman would think such a thing? “I…of course not.”

      “Okay. Then where are we going?”

      She looked at him this time with genuine curiosity. “Why? You didn’t even want to do the auction in the first place.”

      “That was different, and it doesn’t mean I don’t support the cause. It’s important to me. Very important. And I made a bid in good faith.”

      He seemed determined. To finish his good deed, she supposed. Perhaps she should just let him. She became aware she was tapping a pen she didn’t even remember picking up from her desk calendar. She set the pen down.

      “I…don’t have a plan. I never thought you were serious.”

      He didn’t argue with her again. “You’ve been doing this for years, right? You must have thought about what your idea of the ideal auction package would be.”

      “What appeals to me wouldn’t necessarily appeal to some of the high rollers we pull in.”

      “That’s their problem,” he said, obviously not including himself in the high-roller class, although Layla knew he qualified financially. “What would you choose?”

      “Oh, something silly.” Her own words about high rollers triggered the only thing she could think of at the moment. “Like a trip to the highest, fastest roller coaster in the state.”

      He grinned suddenly. “I love roller coasters.”

      That grin should be registered as a weapon, Layla thought ruefully. With a conscious effort, she pulled herself together. It wasn’t like her to be this flustered by anyone, let alone a man, and she wasn’t going to start now. She looked at him thoughtfully.

      “Or,” she said, “a sailboat trip to Catalina Island for lunch.”

      “Great, let’s do it.” The grin widened. “I learned to sail in the Boy Scouts.”

      Layla rolled her eyes and groaned theatrically. “A Boy Scout? You were a Boy Scout?”

      “Guilty, I’m afraid.”

      “Merit badges?”

      “Several.”

      “Camp-outs?”

      “Those, too.”

      Layla shook her head in feigned shock. “Oh, dear. I just don’t know, that sounds far too…normal.”

      “Would you feel better if I said I quit when I was sixteen?”

      “Maybe. Being kicked out would be better.”

      Ethan laughed, a deep, hearty laugh that made Layla laugh, too. And suddenly she realized that she would enjoy spending time with him, even knowing it would be merely