was sure Cornelia would question her about Eli, but her mother didn’t raise the subject as they chatted about the success of the event while brewing a pot of tea in the kitchen. While Frankie loaded a tray with the Wedgwood teapot and cups, Cornelia carried napkins and a plate of shortbread biscuits out to the front porch just as a white pickup with a Wolf Construction logo on the doors pulled to a stop at the curb.
“Frankie,” Cornelia called, peering out a tall window as the driver stepped out of the pickup. “Isn’t that Eli? Were you expecting him?”
Frankie stepped out onto the porch, carrying the tea tray. She set the heavy silver tray on the low table in front of her mother and looked out the window.
There was no mistaking the tall, broad-shouldered man strolling up the walk—and no denying the swift surge of pleased surprise the sight of him elicited in Frankie.
“It is Eli—but I have no idea why he’s here.”
Cornelia had renovated the porch of her beautifully restored Queen Anne home and enclosed the wide space with waist-high windows. Now it was an extension of the living room, a wide glassed-in entry room that ran the length of the front of the house. Lazily turning wooden fans were suspended from the high ceiling; the floor was painted a glossy gray, and area rugs dotted the gleaming wood boards. Chairs and sofas of white wicker with colorful pillows were grouped in comfortable seating areas down the length of the room. At the moment, Cornelia sat in an armchair, its soft cushions covered in bright cotton with a coral and green floral pattern. Frankie took a seat on the padded white wooden swing, within reach of the low wicker table where she’d set the tea tray.
Eli glanced up as he neared, his gaze meeting Frankie’s through the glass. He smiled, his stride quickening as he loped up the three shallow steps to the door.
“Come in, Eli,” Cornelia called.
“Hello, ladies.”
Frankie felt the room shrink as he stepped inside and closed the door, his presence seeming to suck up the oxygen. He wore faded jeans, black boots, and a pale blue polo shirt under a worn brown bomber jacket. Raindrops glistened in his black hair as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung the damp leather over the back of a nearby rocking chair.
She drew a deep breath and patted the cushion beside her. “I didn’t expect to see you today—how did you know I was here?”
“I stopped by Justin and Lily’s place to deliver the plans for Ava’s rabbit hutch—which has turned into a rabbit-condo-castle,” he said with a wry grin. “Lily told me you’d mentioned spending the afternoon with your mom, so I thought I’d drop by on my way home.” He shoved one hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out a glittering jet and gold earring. “You lost this in the car last night. I thought you might be worried about it.”
“Oh, you found it! Thank goodness.” Frankie held out her cupped hand, and Eli dropped the earring into her palm.
He settled onto the swing, one arm stretched out along the seat back behind her.
“I was so upset—I was afraid I’d lost it forever.” Impulsively, she leaned sideways into Eli and kissed his cheek. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” His eyes smiled at her. “Feel free to lose jewelry in my car anytime. I like the way you say thank you.”
Frankie felt heat move up her cheeks and knew her face was no doubt pink. She shot a quick glance at her mother from beneath lowered lashes. An amused, indulgent smile played about Cornelia’s lips. Apparently, her mother approved of Eli’s charm.
“I hope I don’t lose track of any more family heirlooms in the future, but if I do, it’s nice to know you’ll find them for me.” She patted his cheek with easy familiarity and shifted back, away from the hard curve of his body. Pretending she didn’t miss the sheer pleasure she felt in leaning against his warm strength, she leaned forward and picked up the Wedgwood teapot. “Mom and I are having Earl Grey—would you like a cup?”
She poured and handed Cornelia a delicate cup and saucer before glancing inquiringly at Eli.
“Tea?” He winced. “Honey, you know I don’t do tea.”
She couldn’t help laughing at his apologetic but pained expression. “I’m sure Mom has something else to drink.”
“Actually, I just had hot chocolate with Ava, so I’m good.”
“Did you drink it out of a mug or a thimble-sized toy china teacup?” Frankie asked, stirring sugar into her own tea before sitting back on the swing, cup in hand, one foot tucked beneath her so she could face Eli.
“Today we sat at the kitchen-island counter and had normal size mugs,” Eli told her. He shook his head. “Thank God. I can hardly pick up those tiny cups of hers. Not to mention, sitting at that little-girl table scares me. I’m constantly worrying the chair won’t hold me and I’ll break it.”
Frankie and Cornelia smiled with sympathy. Frankie had a swift mental image of Eli’s tall, broad body perched on one of Ava’s child-sized chairs. The picture was endearing.
“Do you see a lot of Ava?” she asked, sipping her tea.
“Not as much as I’d like—Justin has to spend quite a bit of time on his ranch in Idaho.” He leaned forward, taking a shortbread biscuit from the plate on the tea tray. “But when they’re in Seattle, we get together fairly often.” He glanced at Frankie, the tiny smile lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m her honorary uncle, and apparently Ava thinks that requires certain duties.”
“One of which is having tea with her dolls?” Frankie guessed.
“Yeah, that’s one of them.” He pretended to shudder, but the fond smile barely curving his lips told her he didn’t really mind playing tea party with the little girl.
Rain pattered against the glass. Frankie sighed and eyed the wet world outside with gloom. “I think I’ll cancel tonight. The thought of standing around in the rain at a campus rally for world peace doesn’t appeal.”
Eli gave her disbelieving look. “You were going to join a bunch of college kids, in the rain, to listen to a freshman lecture everyone about solving the world’s ills?”
“How did you know the scheduled speaker is a freshman?” she asked, intrigued.
He shrugged. “They’re always freshmen—by their second year in college, students are more cynical.” He lowered his voice. “Rumor has it, the change is due to the amount of beer consumed at all those freshman frat parties.”
Cornelia laughed. “I think you may be right, Eli.”
“He could be.” Frankie tried to hold back a smile but failed. “I bet you formed this opinion through first-hand experience,” she said dryly.
“I have to confess I helped lower the beer level in a few kegs during my freshman year at college,” he confirmed. “But I never picked up a bullhorn and lectured the student population on a solution for world peace.”
“Did you rally for any good causes?” Cornelia asked him.
Curled next to him on the cushioned wooden bench seat, Frankie sipped her tea and listened as Eli bantered back and forth with her mother about his activities in college. He’d been a part of their extended group of family friends for a long time through his friendship with Justin. She knew he’d attended the University of Washington by combining scholarships and working at Wolf Construction. By the time he’d earned an engineering degree, Wolf Construction’s business had taken off under his leadership and become a major contender for commercial building in Seattle and the surrounding area.
Everything Harry had told her about Nicholas Dean’s success could be said of Eli, she thought, feeling a surge of pride at his accomplishments.
Eli glanced sideways at her, his gaze warming.
“Come to the movies with me tonight, Frankie,” he