“I suppose you laugh at your mistakes.”
“You’re assuming I make some.”
Gracie let that remark pass. She suspected Kevin’s ego couldn’t be deflated with a pitchfork, much less any little jab she might take at it. Besides, her mouth was watering at the fluffy cheese omelette he was sliding onto a plate.
“I met your cousin this morning,” she said instead.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Which one?”
“Bobby Ray.” She noticed Kevin’s hands stilled at the mention of the name and his shoulders tensed perceptibly.
“Oh? How’d that happen?”
“I was having breakfast and he stopped by my table.”
Kevin sighed. “I imagine he offered to help you get the Victorian.” He set the omelette in front of her, then pulled out a chair, turned it around backward and straddled it.
“How’d you know?”
“Believe me, I know all of Bobby Ray’s moves. I’ll bet he wanted a finder’s fee for helping out, right?”
Because she was savoring the first bite of omelette, Gracie merely nodded.
“How much?” he asked. “Let me guess. Fifty thousand?”
“How’d you know that?”
“Because that’s exactly the amount he was trying to get me to fork over. When I refused, he obviously started looking for other sources. It would suit him to take it from you for interfering in the business you and I have.”
“What’s he want it for?”
“He wants to go into business with his wife’s lover.”
Gracie nearly choked on her food. She stared. “He what?”
“I hear it’s a long story. So far, I’ve managed to escape hearing the details. Bottom line? Stay way from him, Gracie. As much as I hate to say it, Bobby Ray’s a conniving son of a bitch when there’s something he wants, and right now it’s a toss up whether he wants money or my head on a platter. He’ll use you to get either one.”
“I’ve already told him I’m not interested in his deal.”
“That won’t stop him. The word no is not in his vocabulary.”
“Sounds like somebody else I know,” she murmured.
“Okay, it’s a family trait. I’ll accept that. I still want you to steer clear of him.”
“You don’t sound as if you like him very much.”
Kevin shot her a rueful look. “Does it sound that way? The truth is, I like him fine. I just wish he’d get a grip on his life and stop trying to take the easy way out. Biggest mistake he ever made was the first divorce.”
“First?”
“There’s been another one since. I’m hoping for a third. I don’t much care for wife number three.”
“What does he do?”
“As little as possible.”
Given the disparaging nature of the accusation and his own apparent lack of regular employment, Gracie was surprised. “And you think that’s a bad thing?”
“Of course it is.”
“Maybe he’s following someone else’s example,” she suggested.
“Whose?”
“Yours, for instance.”
He chuckled at that. “There you go, making those assumptions again. Shame on you.”
“I know what I see.”
“Okay,” he said agreeably. “Want to know what I see when I look at you? I see a woman who’s hanging around the house all day long with nothing to do except scientific experiments that come damned close to destroying a kitchen that doesn’t even belong to her. If I were the kind of man who jumped to conclusions, I’d say she has no practical skills whatsoever, no goals, no ambitions and, judging from those bandaged hands, a dangerous lack of common sense.”
Gracie bristled. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? Not if I judge by appearances.”
“But you know better.”
“Because I did a little checking. Maybe you should consider doing a little investigating of your own before you reach any more hasty conclusions.”
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.” She regarded him curiously. “Why’d you come by anyway?”
“I was going to take you to lunch, but you’d already gotten a head start on me.”
“I wasn’t fixing lunch exactly.”
“Then what was this all about?”
“I was practicing.”
“For what?”
Before she could answer, comprehension obviously dawned. He stared at her incredulously.
“For the bed-and-breakfast?”
She nodded.
“Oh, my,” he murmured, and started to chuckle.
“Stop it. Stop it right this minute.”
“Can’t help it,” he said between laughs. “I was just envisioning the expression on the faces of your first guests when they come down and find a sight like this in the kitchen. Or were you hoping to serve them in the dining room and save them the trauma?”
“I’ll be better before I open.”
“Of course you will. In the meantime, though, maybe you ought to start thanking your lucky stars that I’m holding out.”
“Why?”
“Because it seems to me you need another couple of years to practice your cooking skills.”
Gracie considered whether it was possible to murder a man by whacking him upside the head with a cast-iron skillet. Fortunately for him, Kevin caught the direction of her gaze and her thoughts and made a hasty exit before she could find out.
8
Kevin had intended to stay the hell away from Bobby Ray for as long as humanly possible—or at least until he got over the absurd notion of backing his wife’s lover in the jewelry business. Unfortunately, his cousin’s little meeting with Gracie required a response. Kevin wasn’t exactly itching for a fight when he turned into the winding road that would take him to Bobby Rae’s house on Monroe Bay, but he was in no mood to run from one, either.
There was a hodgepodge of homes tucked away on this side of the bay that fed into the Potomac. Some were doublewide trailers, some were small cottages that had been upgraded over the years with vinyl siding and fancy new decks. A few, like Bobby Ray’s, were huge new homes with lots of glass facing the water and wide porches, lined with rockers or Adirondack chairs. To Kevin’s regret, the garage at Bobby Ray’s was wide open and there were no cars around, either inside the garage or in the driveway. Wherever he and Sara Lynn were, they apparently weren’t together.
However, Kevin’s favorite kid, a pigtailed, blond imp, was sitting
