Love in a Nutshell

He glanced at Kate, who wore a victorious smile. Their methods might vary, but Matt appreciated another person of action when he came across one. And he was appreciating Kate Appleton more by the minute.

***

KATE LOOKED at Matt’s profile in the dim illumination of his truck’s dashboard lights. The guy was wiped out, and she couldn’t blame him. He turned onto The Nutshell’s winding drive, then pulled up beside her Jeep.

“Home again,” he said.

She took in the silhouette of her childhood home and felt comfort ease into her bones.

“I am,” she said.

That much, at least, felt very right. She smiled at the thought and the man who had triggered it.

“Did you get dinner?” she asked.

“I never made it over to the food tables.”

“Why don’t you come in? I don Se iidth=”1emx2019;t have much outside the key food groups of chocolate and wine, but I’m sure I can pull something together.”

“Thanks, but I need to get back to the brewery and make sure everything’s under control, then look in on Laila. How about if I take a rain check?”

“Sure,” she said, even though she felt a little disappointed. She reached for the truck’s door handle. “Good night, then.”

Kate was about to exit the truck when Matt spoke again. “You’re not scheduled for tomorrow, are you?”

“No.”

“Then I’d like you to take a road trip with me. I’ll pick you up around eight.”

“Where are we going?”

“A motel.”

“A what?”

He smiled. “You heard me. We’re going to a motel, among other places. But it’s business. You can relax… for the moment.”

Kate was guaranteed not to sleep at all.

EIGHT

A couple minutes before eight on Saturday morning, Matt pulled into Kate’s driveway. He reached for the closest of the two travel mugs of coffee he’d brought along. As he took a swallow, he also took advantage of the opportunity to check out The Nutshell in the daylight. He’d bought the mortgage on the advice of his financial advisor, and his interest had been in the land and not the house.

Last night, when Kate had cornered Clete, she’d invoked the ghost of John Wayne. Matt had found it tough not to laugh, since he’d often thought Clete purposely cultivated the look and attitude. But if Matt were to talk ghosts and The Nutshell, he’d have to say the Rat Pack, with Frank Sinatra leading the charge, would hang out there.

Once upon a time, this had been a top-of-the-line cottage, but that time had passed. The Nutshell’s upkeep had to be a bear by virtue of its size, not to mention its windy perch over Lake Michigan. Though Kate had limited Matt’s indoor tour the other night, he’d guess the house held at least six bedrooms, and probably more.

The place’s white paint was pulling away from its trim, its entry porch had begun to sag, and its silvery cedar shingles were becoming gap-toothed in places. The Nutshell had character, though. He liked that it was as quirky as its current resident.

The front door swung open, and Kate appeared. She wore dressy boots, snug jeans, a clingy red V-necked sweater, and had a huge brown leather purse slung over her shoulder. Matt slipped from behind the wheel and rounded his truck. He opened the passenger-side door for her and waited while she climbed on board.

“Was it this big last nigh Vmbet?” she asked, clicking her seat belt into place as they pulled out of her drive.

“What?”

“Your truck. Last night is kind of a haze of stage fright, adrenaline, and punch, so my memories are fuzzy. But it’s like Land of the Giants in here. My feet barely even reach the floor.” Her smile was brief, but it still made him feel good. “So the standard question would be: Tell me, Culhane, are you compensating for something with this monster vehicle?”

He grinned. “I’ve never worried about compensating.”

“Really?”

“Want to check?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Kate said.

That was a flirtatious warning shot across her bow, she thought. She’d set it up, and he’d followed in kind. It was fun, but she didn’t want it to go further just yet. She dug through her purse and pulled out a pair of oversized sunglasses.

“I probably shouldn’t talk again until I’ve had my second coffee,” she said. “Anything before that is the insomnia speaking.”

“Do you really have insomnia?”

She nodded. “I’m having a little mold problem. The place is filled with negative air blowers, and there are guys coming today to remove the damage and HEPA vacuum the place.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Mold problems can be really hard to fix. And expensive. Are you sure you don’t want to bail now? I was going to raze the structure anyway.”

Kate felt her jaw drop. “Excuse me- You want to destroy my family’s lake house so you can build some tourist trap of a restaurant? Are you serious? I will never, ever, ever let you get your hands on my house.”

“I think I pushed a button best left alone for now,” Matt said. “Would you consider coffee as a peace offering?”

She reached for the mug in her cup holder. “Coffee would be a wonderful peace offering. Sorry I snapped. If I don’t catch more than three hours of sleep in a row soon, I’m going to be giving Deena Bowen a run for her money in the cranky department. And it isn’t just the blowers. I wasn’t sleeping too well even before they arrived. All night long the house is filled with creaks and groans and whispers. At four in the morning, it sounds downright haunted. Not that I have issues or anything.” She took a swallow of coffee. “But enough of my neuroses. Why not tell me where we’re going besides that motel you mentioned.”

“First, we’ve got to head to my office,” he said.

“Bad news, then. We’re heading in the wrong direction.”

“My Traverse City office.”

She turned her face his way, and he had to focus on the road not to smile at how cute she was in the big glasses.

“Okay,” she said. “So you do have a secret life. Are you a spy? Is this one of those ‘I’m going to tell you but then I have to kill you’ road trips?”

Matt laughed. “You stand a better chance of being bored to death by my secret life. All the same, it’s mine and I choose to keep it among certain people. Now that I’m making you one of them, no sharing this with Ella or anyone else.”

“Deal,” she said. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me be in the know. I’ve been kind of low on friendships since I moved here, and I like having one with you. It’s…” She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I don’t know, really special, I guess.”

It was to Matt, also, but he didn’t want to make the moment sappy. He went for one more kick of caffeine before setting the mug back in its holder. “Today, among other things, I have to pull the plug on a business relationship that hasn’t worked out.”

“What kind of business? Is it at least something dangerous or exotic?”

He smiled at the excitement in her voice. “Sorry to disappoint, but he’s another microbrewer. I gave him a