“What happened?”
Her expression clouded over. “This and that.”
“Aunt Delia?” he prodded. “Tell me.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter now. It wouldn’t have been the right thing for me, I’m sure. Still, I can’t help imagining what it would have been like.”
“So you identify with Gracie’s dream, is that it?”
“More than you can imagine.”
His gaze narrowed. “She didn’t take advantage of that, did she?”
Aunt Delia looked startled. “Take advantage? What do you mean?”
“I mean, did she use it to try to get you to take her side, maybe sell her the house behind my back.” His gaze narrowed. “Did you tell her you own the house?”
“What if I did?” she said defensively. “It’s my decision to make.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said wearily. “How’d she take the news?”
“Needless to say, she was surprised.”
“And mad as a wet hen at me, no doubt.”
“Truth be told, your name almost never entered the conversation, not until the very end anyway.”
He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or insulted by that. “And what happened at the very end?” he asked.
She scowled at him. “Stop rushing me. I’m getting to that.”
“Sorry.”
“Actually, we’ve made a deal.”
His stomach sank. “A deal? You and Gracie?”
“That’s right,” she said, regarding him defiantly.
“You’re going to sell her the house?”
“Eventually.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that we’ll work something out so the house will be hers, just not right away.”
“And in the meantime?”
She smiled happily. “In the meantime, we’ll be partners.”
“Partners,” Kevin repeated slowly. “You and Gracie are going to be partners.”
“Exactly.”
“Over my dead body.”
Her chin jutted up determinedly. “If that’s what it takes.”
He stared at her in amazement. Something told him she meant it, too. “What did she do to you?” he asked wearily.
His aunt reached out and patted his hand consolingly. “Darling, please don’t be upset. You should be thanking her. She gave me back my dream.”
Kevin forced himself to wait before confronting Gracie. He wanted to mull over this latest turn of events, consider the wistful expression on his aunt’s face when she’d talked about her lost dream.
He waited, he mulled until after dinner, then he mulled some more. By midnight, he’d worked up a pretty good head of steam. In fact, as he drove to Gracie’s, he was mad enough to tear that old Victorian down all by himself, board by board, to prevent this idiotic scheme from ever happening.
To his satisfaction, the lights at Gracie’s were out. He figured catching her off guard and half asleep was probably a very good idea. She had a sneaky habit of getting her way when she was operating on all cylinders.
Of course, he hadn’t taken into account the effect of her opening the door, looking all sleepy and tousled and sexy as the dickens. It took a little of the edge off his anger and did dangerous things to his body. Lust slammed through him like a freight train.
The oversize T-shirt she was wearing could have covered a tackle for the Washington Redskins, but in his mind’s eye every curve was revealed. The blasted thing ended above her knees…way above her knees. She was barefooted and at some point she’d painted bright red, kick-ass polish on her toenails. His gaze locked on those feet, and the desire to sweep her into his arms and haul her right back to her bedroom was almost uncontrollable. Almost.
“Kevin?”
Her sleepy, sexy, confused voice snapped him back to reality. He wasn’t here to take her to bed. He was here to get a few things straight. He pushed past her and went inside. He aimed straight for a chair, since sitting next to her on the room’s only other furniture—a cozy little sofa—seemed like a very risky idea.
“We have to talk.”
She eyed him cautiously. “Is this going to be a long talk or do you intend to yell, then leave once you’ve had your say?”
“It’s hard to say. Why?”
“I could use some coffee, if you actually want to have a conversation.”
“Fine. Make the coffee,” he said, and trailed after her into the kitchen.
He sat at the kitchen table and watched her efficient movements. Whenever a little bolt of lust slammed through him, he worked at controlling it. He was getting pretty good with so much practice, he concluded. By the same token, he was crankier than ever by the time she finally sat down with a mug of coffee in hand.
“What’s up?” she inquired, regarding him with bright eyes and a fully alert expression.
Obviously he’d given her way too long to gather her composure. They should have had this out when she was half asleep. It might have gone more smoothly.
“What the hell kind of arm-twisting did you use on my aunt?” he demanded bluntly.
“I take it you’ve heard about her idea that she and I go into business together.”
“Damn right I’ve heard,” he said, shoving his chair back and starting to pace. He paused beside her and scowled down into her upturned face. “Of all the sneaky, underhanded things to do, waiting until I was out of town and then taking advantage of an old lady.”
“I didn’t take advantage of anyone,” she said quietly. “She invited me over. She told me the house was hers, something which you might have mentioned, by the way. As for the rest, it was her idea. Ask her.”
“Well, of course she would say that. She probably thinks it was her idea. You’re the one who planted it, though. She’d certainly never have come up with it on her own.”
She regarded him calmly. “Actually, I told her it was a bad idea.”
His gaze narrowed. Aunt Delia certainly hadn’t mentioned that. “Why?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t approve.”
“Well, I don’t.” He regarded her warily. “So we’re agreed that nothing will come of this lame-brained idea?”
Perversely, Gracie shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I’ve been thinking it over. She really seems to want to be involved. She knows people around here. She could
