Page 8

Chapter Eight

J etta pulled the roasted chicken thighs with butternut squash and kale from the oven, the familiar scent of rosemary filling her nostrils. Kyle had refused to eat anything with kale—or nearly any other veggie—so she’d adjusted her cooking to accommodate his needs. Now that she no longer had to consider his opinion, she’d been making all her favorite recipes with the green leafy veggie, including the knock-off version of Olive Garden’s Zuppa soup.

With his rippling muscles, Seth struck her as someone who ate his veggies, so she’d decided to make the chicken and autumn squash recipe. She surveyed the kitchen table, set with Mom’s floral everyday china. She’d been tempted to pull out her parents’ wedding plates but decided that would be overkill on their first date. Her hand flew to her mouth as the thought settled like a falling souffle. Would Seth consider this dinner one?

No, of course not. Besides, she was in no condition to think of any man that way. A man as handsome as Seth must have plenty of opportunities to date, and despite his blushes around her, he would recognize her invitation as one extended to say thank you for his assistance with Bingley. That was all. Nothing more. She would make it clear she needed his expertise as a journalist, not as a potential mate.

The doorbell rang, sending Bingley, who’d been snoozing in his dog bed right outside the kitchen, into a frenzy of barking. Butterflies in her stomach joined him as she hurried to open the door.

Seth stood on the porch, a plate covered in foil in his hands. “I brought brownies for dessert.”

“How thoughtful, thank you.” She stepped back to allow him to enter before closing the door and flipping the deadbolt, a habit she’d acquired since Chicago.

He sniffed, an appreciative look crossing his face. “It smells delicious. Is that butternut squash I detect along with the chicken?”

“Good nose—you’re right.” She led the way down the short hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house to where the pan with the chicken, squash, and kale rested on a hot pad. “I hope you also like kale.”

“I do.” He set the plate on the counter. “I make a mean kale smoothie.”

“Kale smoothie?” She carried the pan to the table tucked into what her mother had optimistically called a breakfast nook. “I’ll have to try that one day.”

“I’m happy to make you one the next time I have one myself.” Bingley nudged Seth’s leg, drawing his attention. “Hey, there.” Seth tousled the dog’s ears, then scratched behind them. The dog leaned into him, tongue lolling in canine bliss.

“You keep that up, and he’s yours for life.” Jetta filled a glass with sparkling water from her Soda Stream bottle, then asked Seth what he’d like to drink.

“What you’re having sounds good.” He gave Bingley another pat on the head, then gently moved the dog out of the way to wash his hands in the sink.

She set his glass on the table, then jumped when he reached around her to pull out her chair. “Sorry, I’m not used to the royal treatment.”

He pushed in her chair, then took a seat across from her. “My grandfather drilled into me to treat women with respect.”

“Oh.” She wanted to ask more about his grandfather, but that might give Seth the wrong idea about this dinner, so she reached for the serving spoon to fill his plate.

“Do you mind if I say grace first?”

“You’re a Christian?” In all their interactions over these past months, they had never discussed faith.

He met her gaze, his brown eyes steady on hers. “Yes, I accepted Jesus in college.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Me too.” Maybe that was why she felt so drawn to Seth—she subconsciously sensed his love of Christ. “Please say the blessing.”

He reached for her hand, and she slipped hers inside his larger one. Instead of feeling uneasy about his strength like she had with Kyle, holding hands with Seth made her feel safe and secure, like a cherished family heirloom.

“Dear Jesus, please bless our food and our conversation. In your name, amen.” He squeezed her hand gently before releasing it. “I can’t wait to try this. It looks and smells amazing.”

She served him two chicken thighs and a big spoonful of veggies. “It’s a pretty simple recipe, but I like the way the chicken juices flavor the squash and kale.”

He waited until she had food on her plate before picking up his fork for a bite. “Delicious,” he concluded after finishing his first bite. “Would you mind sharing about your faith?”

While they ate, Jetta recapped her own journey to Christ, then asked Seth about his own.

“I attended George Mason University in Fairfax, and one day, in the student union, a church was handing out free Bibles. I took one and started reading Genesis.” Seth neatly cut his chicken off the bone while he spoke. “I couldn’t stop, and by the time I got to the Gospels, I knew I wanted to leave my old life behind and become a new person.”

“God indeed changes us, doesn’t he?” She chewed and swallowed a bite of chicken. “I was raised in church but didn’t really think about my own faith until moving back here.”

“I’d prayed to God as a child, so perhaps the faith of our youth really doesn’t leave us.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.” She sighed. “I feel like my faith would be stronger if I hadn’t let it wither for so many years.”

“Maybe, but didn’t Jesus say even a mustard seed of faith was enough?”

His reminder eased her anxiety. “Where do you go to church?”

“Covenant Community Church. It meets at the Falls Church High School. It’s a Presbyterian Church of America church plant from McLean Presbyterian Church.”

“Maybe I’ll check that out one Sunday. I haven’t found a local place to worship yet. Back in Chicago, I attended a nondenominational congregation.” She stacked their plates, then rose. “Would you like any decaf coffee or tea with our dessert?”

“I’ll stick with water, as I haven’t had enough today.” He carried the baking dish with the leftovers to the island. “If you’ll direct me to your containers, I’ll pack this up.”

She started to object he didn’t have to help, then shrugged. She pointed to the appropriate cabinet and turned her attention to loading the dishwasher. Within minutes, the dishes had been done and they’d decided to have their dessert on the back patio, keeping Bingley safely locked inside.

“Have you heard from animal control about the yard?” He settled into one of the lawn lounges and set the plate of brownies on the small table between them.

“Got a text before you came over that someone would stop by first thing in the morning.” She put her mug of decaf coffee on the table and reached for a napkin and brownie. “These look yummy.”

He picked one up and consumed it in two bites. “It’s my secret recipe.”

She bit into the gooey chocolate and chewed. The flavors burst onto her tongue. “Wow, these are so good.” She closed her eyes as she took another nibble, trying to decipher the ingredients.

“Trying to guess what’s in them?”

Gazing straight into his eyes, she burst out laughing. “Yep.”

He polished off another brownie, then sat back with his arms crossed. “Give it your best shot.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?”

He moved one massive shoulder up and down. “Confident you’ll never guess all the ingredients.”

She started with the usual brownie ingredients. “Let’s see, flour, sugar, some sort of oil, vanilla. How am I doing so far?”

“So far, you’ve only said what’s in nearly every brownie recipe.” He sipped his water while she ate more of her square.

“I’m going with cocoa powder instead of melted chocolate for the chocolate part.”

“Go on.” His eyes twinkled, giving his face a delightfully roguish gleam that made her heart do a funny little flip inside her chest. A girl could get addicted to making Seth Whitman look at her like that, but she wasn’t that girl.

She returned her attention back to the brownie, but even after adding chocolate chips to the list, she couldn’t figure out the last ingredient. “Okay,” she admitted after another serving still didn’t give her a clue, “I give up. What am I missing?”

He leaned across the table and motioned her closer. “Zucchini.”

She frowned. “The green summer squash?”

“My secret ingredient in ‘Legit Brownies That Happen to Be Vegan and Contain Zucchini.’”

As the recipe title hit her, another chuckle burst from her. “That’s what you call these?”

“Yep. Fits, right?” He wolfed down another square. “I sometimes use vegan chocolate chips, but this time, Wegmans was out, so these are technically only ‘Legit Brownies That Contain Zucchini.’”

“Glad we cleared that up.” She firmed her lips but couldn’t corral the smile that spread across her face. Seth kept surprising her, his thoughts and actions running counter to everything she thought she knew about muscle-bound men. A gentleness underscored his entire being that warmed her to her toes. Time would tell if his actions reflected a genuine heart or if the facade she saw hide an ugly core.

* * *

Seth couldn’t remember a time when he’d been this comfortable with a member of the opposite sex. Too bad Jetta wanted to keep him at arm’s length, but he’d respect her wishes and pray God would change her mind. So while he was enjoying this relaxing time with her, he’d better redirect their attention before he started dreaming impossible dreams. “You said something about papers?”

“Right, the papers.” Before he could ask where they were, she leveraged herself out of the chair and went inside. She returned shortly with a brown mailing envelope in hand. “Here you go.” She handed him the package, then retook her seat next to him.

He extracted the papers, noting two separate accounts at two different Cayman Islands banks with account holders as New Horizons LLC and Jay Ainsley, each listing this Falls Church address. One account held $1.4 million while the other had $1.2 million. Deposits into each account ranged in increments of $50,000 to $100,000 over a six-month period, with daily and sometimes twice daily wire transfers. The other papers detailed a spreadsheet, showing similar payments to various vendors over the same time period. He reshuffled the papers, reading the letter that had accompanied them.

“I’m no financial expert, but it appears these show someone using fake vendor invoices to siphon off money from Topher Robotics into these Cayman bank accounts.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he’d had since childhood when he was thinking through a problem—or embarrassed by his tendency to blush. “But the note mentions FinCEN, so maybe we should start there.”

Her shoulders sagged and disappointment flashed across her expressive face. He wished he could tell her the papers were indeed a smoking gun proclaiming her father’s innocence, but he didn’t have the expertise to solve this particular problem on his own.

“I keep forgetting to look up what exactly FinCEN is.”

“That I can answer. It’s the US Treasury Department’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network.” His cheeks warmed as her jaw dropped opened, then she snapped it close. He’d obviously surprised her with this knowledge, so he hastened to explain. “Brogan wrote a story a few months ago about the director’s appearance at a local high school on educating teens about financial crimes. I snapped pics during the event.”

He plucked his phone from a back pocket and scrolled to find Leslie Updike’s contact info. “I have one of the agent’s numbers in case we needed to follow up. I’ll send her a text and see if she can lend us a hand with deciphering these. She might even remember your dad’s case.”

“Thanks.”

He wanted to flash her a quick grin, but this wasn’t about impressing a young woman. It was about finding out the truth about the embezzlement accusations levied at her late father. “All sent. I’ll let you know what she says.”

“I appreciate your help.” Her voice trembled a bit and she broke eye contact with him.

He put his phone away, not sure what to say or do. He neatly put the papers back into the envelope. “We’ll figure this out. May I make a copy of these papers?”

He had trouble catching his breath at the hurt in her beautiful eyes. The urge to draw her into his arms nearly overwhelmed him, but a lifetime of not pushing physical contact on anyone held him still.

“Would you make two copies?”

“Sure. I can do that at work in the morning, then drop them by later tomorrow.”

She sniffed, then gestured to the plate. “You’d better take those with you, or I’ll eat all of them tonight.”

“I’ll leave you some if you’d like.”

“Sure.” She led the way back into the kitchen and opened a drawer, then fished out a plastic zipper-top bag. After plopping a couple of brownies into the bag, she gestured toward the plate. “Plenty left for you.”

“I’ll have to hide them from my roommates, or they’ll be gone by morning.”

That brought a hint of a smile to her lips. “I forget how much guys can eat without packing on the pounds.”

His chest tightened as unwanted memories of what people said to him about his weight pummeled his mind. He was not that four-hundred-pound teenager anymore. He didn’t use food to escape his reality. Several years of counseling with a food addiction specialist, coupled with weight training, had helped him identify his triggers and work through a lot of his painful childhood. But offhanded remarks like this could drag him back into the mire again.

“Seth?”

He shook himself like a dog getting rid of water. “Sorry, lost in thought.” He drew in a breath. Her expression showed she wasn’t quite buying his explanation, so he added, “Trying to figure out where to hide the brownies.”

That smoothed out her features, making his heart light. “Now I’d better go, as I have an early morning photo shoot with some fisherman trying to catch an elusive channel catfish in Burke Lake.”

“Sounds exciting.” She walked him to the door.

“This is take two, as last week, the rain and fog made any chance at a photo to document the catch impossible. Tomorrow’s weather looks clear.” He paused on the front stoop. “Thanks for the delicious dinner.”

Their eyes locked, the tension building slow and easy like a spider spinning a web. Again, that tug toward her, the desire to brush his fingers across her cheek to see if the skin was as smooth as it appeared. He forced himself to step back, breaking the gossamer thread. “Please use my backyard as much as you need to with Bingley.”

“What?” She blinked, as if coming back from the same dream he’d been caught up in. “Oh, right. Will do.”

A strand of auburn hair fell across her cheek. He curbed the impulse to tuck it behind her ear. “See you later.”

An emotion he couldn’t decipher flickered in her eyes as she repeated his goodbye, then closed the door with a soft click. He strode across the lawn to his front door, frustration nipping at his heels. He entered the house, glad his housemates weren’t in the common areas, although he could hear Wade’s music blaring from his bedroom. He headed for his own room, taking the plate of brownies with him and quietly closing the door so as not to alert Wade to his presence. While he often enjoyed his company, he didn’t want to be grilled about where he’d been.

Flopping onto his bed, Seth stared at the ceiling fan as he reviewed the evening’s ending. Was she disappointed he hadn’t offered to comfort her with a hug? Or was she relieved he hadn’t presumed such intimacy? Questions that wouldn’t be answered tonight, but perhaps, if he studied really hard, he might be able to figure out the correct answers before they solved her father’s case and Jetta returned to her life in Chicago.