She led the way through open French doors onto the deck. “I love your apartment. I’ve been to Jonas Sterling’s place above the Straw Hat. Since Jonas doesn’t own it, he’s done no improvements, so the place is still partitioned off into too many rooms for the space. It’s nice, but it sure doesn’t have the open feeling that you’ve created.”

Blackie felt the tension easing from his shoulders. As lovely as she looked and as naked as her shoulders might be, she hadn’t staged a seduction scene. The outdoor table was set for casual dining. An ice bucket held two bottles of white wine and two bottles of beer. He didn’t fail to note that she’d bought the same brand of ale that he’d drunk that evening when he’d taken her up to his apartment. She had a gift for helping people relax. She talked a lot, smiled even more, and didn’t put on airs.

“I was going to cook something fancy,” she told him, “but so often when I do that, something goes wrong and I have a kitchen disaster. Then I’m all nerved up and can’t enjoy myself. So tonight I went for simple, a chicken enchilada casserole, a tossed salad, and a loaf of garlic bread I baked fresh today.” She lifted the lid off the appetizer tray. “I made canapés, also easy. No fuss, no muss. That way we can focus on good wine and conversation.”

Blackie removed his jacket as she filled two wineglasses from a chilled bottle. “Just as a starter,” she told him. “You can enjoy the beer as well.”

“I do have to drive home,” he said with a laugh.

“Oh, but this is Mystic Creek, surrounded by country roads. The biggest danger is a deer bolting out in front of the car.”

“And cops. Our sheriff’s department is extremely well staffed because this is the official county seat.”

“One beer, then,” she conceded with a laugh.

Blackie draped his coat over the back of a chair and helped himself to a canapé before he even sat down. Julie grinned and followed suit as she took a seat across from him. The breeze picked up just then, molding her silky top to her upper body and lifting her dark hair to drape it over her slender shoulders. He wasn’t sure he liked the blue streak, but on Julie it somehow worked. She sat back and crossed her legs. On her narrow feet, she wore burnished gold sandals that showed off dainty toenails painted the same color as her blouse.

“These are delicious!” he said after he swallowed the bite of food.

“My version of smoked salmon-and-pea vol-au-vents.” She took a bite. “The recipe called for serving them warm, so I altered it a bit, made them ahead, and chilled them instead. I wanted to enjoy your visit. Too many last-minute things keep me in the kitchen.”

Her pronunciation of the French words was almost perfect, telling Blackie she’d studied the language either in high school or college. Most of his classmates had taken Spanish, which was a more practical language to know in the States, but Blackie had always been a romantic. At one point in his life, he’d yearned to visit Paris. He’d fancied himself to be an artist at the time and had later discovered he couldn’t paint worth a darn.