Karen Smith Rose

Twelfth Night Proposal


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      “Did you eat lunch yet? We can grab a hot dog while we’re looking.” Then he stopped. “Unless you want to do this on your own.”

      She shrugged as if it didn’t matter one way or the other. “I’ve made the rounds and I’m trying to decide between two paintings. A hot dog might help me make the decision.”

      For whatever reason, Verity Sumpter made him smile. She did more than that, he realized, as his gaze settled on her lips and he felt a pang of desire so strong he didn’t think he’d ever felt anything quite like it before.

      “Come on,” he said evenly, nodding toward a concession truck that sold cold drinks, soft pretzels and hot dogs.

      Strumming his guitar and dressed in purple velvet, a wandering minstrel serenaded them with a rendition of “Greensleeves” as they stood in line. Minutes later they each held hot dogs and sodas and went to stand under a pecan tree. When Verity took a one-handed bite of her hot dog, mustard caught on her upper lip. With her hands full and a napkin tucked under the bun, she couldn’t wipe it away.

      Not sure what possessed him, Leo set his soda between branches on the tree and caught the dab of mustard with his thumb. The touch of his skin on hers was electric, and her brown eyes widened with the jolt of it. What was it about Verity that stirred him up so?

      She didn’t look away, and he couldn’t seem to, either. When he leaned toward her, she tipped up her chin.

      All he had to do was bend his head—

      “Verity. Hey, Verity,” a male voice called.

      A good-looking young man who appeared to be in his late twenties approached them. He had long, russet hair that curled over his collar and was brushed to one side. His green eyes targeted Verity and his smile was all for her.

      As if she couldn’t quite tear her gaze from Leo’s, she blinked, breaking the spell. Her cheeks reddened slightly.

      The man was approaching them then, and she was smiling at him. “Hi.”

      The guy’s smile widened as he came up to them and stood very close to Verity. Much too close, Leo thought.

      “Have you seen Charley’s work? It’s the style you said you liked—mountains and trees that make you feel as if you’re right there.”

      Leo suddenly wondered if Verity had been dating this man. She could be, and he’d never know. He had no right to know.

      “I’ve seen it,” she offered with some excitement.

      After another look at Leo and their half-eaten hot dogs, the young man gave Verity a slow smile. “I don’t want to intrude.” He rested his hand lightly on Verity’s shoulder. “I’ll see you Tuesday night. You can tell me then whether you bought the painting or not.”

      After the young man walked away, the silence that fell over Leo and Verity was louder than any of the noises around them. As they finished their hot dogs, Leo was very aware, again, that he was twelve years older than Verity and he had no business thinking about kissing her.

      Yet questions rolled in his head, and he asked one of them. “Are you dating him?”

      Her gaze flew to Leo’s. “What made you think I was?”

      Leo shrugged. “Maybe it was more his attitude than yours. If he hasn’t asked you out, it won’t be long until he does.” He didn’t like the idea of that—the idea of Verity and that guy in a dark movie theater, in a car or somewhere more intimate.

      “I haven’t dated much since…” She stopped and looked out over the lake. “Sean was protective of me. He screened my dates,” she confided with a small smile.

      Leo liked the idea of her having a protective brother who’d looked out for her. “Did you always go along with his advice?”

      “I should have. Sean didn’t like the man I was dating last fall, but I wouldn’t listen. When you have a twin, a twin as close as Sean and I were, sometimes it’s hard to distinguish your ideas from theirs, where you leave off and they begin. Being a twin is a constant battle to be yourself yet hold strong the bonds that bind you together. So I didn’t listen to his advice about Matthew.”

      “What happened?”

      “We’d been dating a few months when Sean was in the skiing accident. Afterward, I…I sort of withdrew. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that Sean wasn’t here anymore.”

      “That’s not unusual,” Leo offered, seeing her sadness, knowing what he had felt after he’d lost Carolyn.

      “Matthew didn’t understand that I just wasn’t in the mood to go to parties or even the movies. Whenever I was with him, he didn’t want to hear about Sean or how much I missed him. After a few weeks he told me that he needed to date somebody who was a lot more fun, and I realized my brother had been right about him all along.”

      Angry for her, Leo could have called this Matthew a few choice names, but he refrained because he could see how hurt Verity had been that someone she’d loved had deserted her at a low time in her life.

      Verity had finished her hot dog and now took a sip of her soda. “How did you meet your wife?”

      “I built a customized boat for her father. She came along to see the design, and that was that.”

      “So…you believe in love at first sight?” Verity asked curiously.

      “I don’t know if it was love at first sight. Carolyn was a beautiful, sophisticated, poised woman who could turn a man’s head. She turned mine.”

      It wasn’t until later that Leo had realized there was an aloofness about Carolyn that he could never really break through. Maybe that was the poise he had seen at first. That aloofness had never completely crumbled and had kept a barrier of sorts between them.

      “Let’s walk,” Leo said gruffly.

      When Verity glanced at him, there were questions in her eyes, but he didn’t want her to ask them.

      They hadn’t gone very far when a little whirlwind came barreling toward Verity. It was Heather, all smiles and giggles and excitement.

      Wrapping her arms around Verity’s legs, she looked up at her with the exuberance of a three-year-old. “Looky. Looky. I got painted.”

      Without hesitation, Verity sank down onto one knee before Heather who had a cluster of daisies painted on her cheek.

      “You look beautiful,” Verity exclaimed, and Leo’s chest tightened at the sight of this nanny and his daughter bonding. It was evident Heather absolutely adored Verity.

      Heather grabbed Verity’s hand. “You get painted, too.”

      Rising to her feet, Verity began, “Oh, I don’t know…”

      “Let yourself go today,” Leo advised her, guessing that wasn’t something Verity did often.

      Jolene and her two boys had come up behind Heather. Jolene’s hair was blonder than his. At five-four, she was about twenty pounds overweight, but she was his sister, so Leo simply didn’t care. Jolene liked to cook and bake. Everything she did, she did with gusto.

      Now she told Verity, “They’ll paint whatever you want—from flowers to kittens to parrots. And it washes off.”

      “Are you going to do it, too?” Verity asked with a twinkle in her eye.

      “I could be talked into it. But my boys won’t stand still long enough for me to have it done.”

      “I can take the boys and Heather over to the clown with the balloons if you really want to,” Verity offered.

      Jolene’s two boys, Randy and Joe, seemed to like the idea. Randy, the eight-year-old who was three years older than his brother, Joey, added, “And if Mom’s not done until we get the balloons made we can play croquet. Kids are doing it over