“I have no intention of sleeping with you,” she declared, leaving no room for misinterpretation—or so she thought.
He appeared undaunted. “You know what they say about the road to hell being paved with good intentions.”
“You are the most annoying—”
“Sexy.”
“…exasperating—”
“Sexy.”
“…singleminded man I know.”
“But when was the last time you had this much fun?”
The trouble was, Gracie couldn’t think that far back.
7
When Gracie woke up the next morning, every muscle in her body ached. Her hands felt raw. But the minute she looked out the kitchen window, none of that mattered.
The garden was a riot of color. Kevin had taken her at her word when she’d said she wanted it wild. Purple was jammed up next to red, which bumped into orange. Taller snapdragons popped up amidst squat impatiens. Clusters of fragile daisies bloomed next to hardy hostas. By midsummer when everything was in full-bloom, it was going to be chaotic and wonderful. Songbirds had already started arriving and engaging in an astonishing turf war over the hollyhocks.
She still couldn’t get over the fact that planting it had been Kevin’s idea. No one had ever made such an extravagant gesture before just on impulse. She didn’t inspire romantic impulses. Max had given her a gift certificate for Christmas for…luggage. She had a feeling if Kevin had had the same inclination, he would have chosen the luggage and tucked two tickets to Greece inside.
Comparisons, of course, were a waste of time. Max had never mattered. She had never let him. Kevin, however, had the sneakiness necessary to matter before she could stop him. She was going to have to stay on her toes to see that didn’t happen. One good way would be to focus on stealing that old house out from under him.
She formulated her strategy on her brisk walk to the Beachside Cafe for breakfast. She was pretty sure she could count on Jessie to give her straight answers or to point her in the right direction to find them for herself. Jessie was a very direct woman.
“Hear you have a new garden,” Jessie said as she poured Gracie’s first cup of coffee.
“News travels fast.”
“How’s your hand?” the waitress asked.
The memory of the bolt of awareness that had struck her as Kevin tended to her injuries brought a flush to her cheeks. To cover her embarrassment, she snapped, “Was somebody hanging over the damned fence?”
Jessie chuckled. “Actually, I just noticed the bandages. Now you’ve made me curious, though. What did go on in your backyard besides gardening?”
Gracie sighed. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to having my private life the subject of the morning news.” Of course, in recent years she’d had very little private life. It had been easy enough to keep it discreet.
“Then you’d better stay away from Kevin,” Jessie warned. “He’s the kind of man who does draw attention. Half the women in town are fascinated. The other half are jealous.”
“Believe me, I’d avoid him if I could. Unfortunately, he stands between me and that house I’d like to buy.” She regarded Jessie intently. “You could help me change that.”
“How?”
“Tell me everything you know about that house. Who owns it? How come Kevin’s managing it and gets away with not doing anything to keep it up?”
“Have you asked him that?”
“Not exactly,” she conceded.
“Why not?”
“Because when it comes to that old house, Kevin refuses to talk. He won’t even let me mention it.”
“Really? Now isn’t that fascinating?” Jessie said thoughtfully.
“You see what I’m up against? Come on, Jessie, please. Help me out here. Think of it as your duty to the sisterhood of women.”
Jessie chuckled. “Sweetie, I don’t even get along all that well with my own sister. Sorry. I think I’ll stay out of the middle of this one. I will bring you a big plate of scrambled eggs and bacon to help you keep your strength up, though.”
“I don’t need strength. I need answers.”
“Sorry. You’ll have to order those up from somebody else,” Jessie said, not sounding sorry at all.
“Why? What do you owe Kevin?”
“More than you’ll ever know,” she said enigmatically, and retreated to the kitchen.
Gracie stared after her. She was still trying to figure out what to make of the waitress’s comment when a man she’d seen once or twice around town slid into the booth opposite her.
“I couldn’t help overhearing what you said to Jessie. I could help you out,” he said.
“Oh?”
He held out his hand. “Bobby Ray Daniels. I’m Kevin’s cousin.”
Gracie studied him and saw a hint of family resemblance in the eyes, but the chin was weaker, the jaw less defined. One thing she would give Bobby Ray, he dressed a whole lot better than his cousin. She noted the well-tailored slacks, the expensive shirt with its monogrammed cuffs, the buffed Italian leather loafers. The outfit was as classy as anything hanging in Max’s closet. She realized she’d recently developed a fondness for worn jeans.
“Why would you help me?” she asked.
“Just being neighborly.”
“Shouldn’t you be on your cousin’s side?”
“I wasn’t aware there were sides. You’re not trying to cheat him, are you?”
“No, but—”
“Obviously you’re not worried about hurting his feelings. You’re already going behind his back.”
“Just to pick up a little information,” she said, feeling surprisingly defensive.
“So why not get that information from me?”
Because it didn’t feel right to her. She couldn’t explain it. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”
“I could talk to the owner for you.”
“You know the owner?”
“As well as Kevin does.”
“Why not just give me the name, then?”
“And cut myself out? That wouldn’t be smart business, would it?”
“So much for being neighborly,” Gracie said.
He grinned. “A man’s got to make a living.”
Despite his willingness to sell out his cousin, there was a certain amount of charm about the man that was practically irresistible. He didn’t sound as if there were a malicious intent behind the sneakiness, just good fun. A
