“I knew it,” she muttered, unable to contain a sigh of disappointment.
Since she didn’t want either of the men to see her dismay, she smiled brightly as they came inside.
“I have coffee and pastries in the kitchen,” she told them. “I’m so grateful you’re helping. I think everything’s pretty well packed up, so hopefully it won’t take long. I didn’t make the boxes too heavy, so I can carry those down, if you’ll deal with the furniture.”
Cal gave her a chiding look. “You’re not carrying anything. That’s why we’re here. In fact, you should probably head on over to the house and figure out exactly where you’re going to want all this stuff when we get there.”
“I marked the boxes,” she told him.
Erik shook his head. “But you don’t want piles of boxes in every room. It’s overwhelming. Pick one room and let us put all the boxes in there. We can stack ’em according to where they’re to go eventually. Then you take one box at a time wherever it belongs and unpack it. That way ninety-nine percent of the house will feel as if it’s livable.”
She beamed at him. “That’s an excellent idea. I wish I’d done it that way on other moves.”
“Okay, then, you head on over and decide about that room. You probably need to supervise the others, too.”
She regarded him blankly. “The others?”
“Helen, Maddie and Dana Sue are scrubbing the place, and Ronnie and Tom are painting. They’ll help us unload when we get there.”
“But...” She’d had no idea they were planning to do any of that. All she’d counted on was a little muscle to help with the actual move. “They’re cleaning and painting?”
“As we speak,” Cal said. “And Tom was making noises about painting one of the bedrooms navy blue. I’m not sure that’s what you had in mind, but he said it suited him.”
“What on earth...?” Then she remembered his determination to share the house with her. She’d been certain she’d squelched that idea weeks ago. And, if not then, her attempt to seduce him and his reaction to it should have killed his scheme completely. Apparently she’d been wrong.
She grabbed her purse off the dining-room table. “You’re sure you don’t need me here?”
Erik grinned. “Not as badly as you’re needed over there,” he said.
“We have this under control,” Cal assured her.
She was almost out the door when Cal called after her. “Hey, Jeanette, if you decide to strangle him, don’t do it before we get there, okay?”
“So you can protect him?”
Cal shook his head. “No, so we can watch.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda enjoyable not being on the receiving end of anger for a change,” Erik added. “The rest of us paid our dues, so why not him?”
Jeanette shook her head. “Who are you two trying to kid? Your wives adore you.”
“Doesn’t mean we don’t tick ’em off from time to time,” Cal said. “You might want to remember that.”
“Meaning?”
“An occasional tiff goes with the territory,” Erik explained. “Love’s complicated.”
“And rocky,” Cal added.
“Nobody said anything about love,” Jeanette retorted.
Cal grinned. “Yeah, they did. At least that’s the way I heard it.”
“Me, too,” Erik confirmed.
“Your wives have big mouths,” she said.
Erik laughed. “Tell us something we don’t know. You gotta love ’em, though.”
Jeanette sighed. “Yes, I do.”
Apparently they were going to protect her interests in whatever way they thought the situation required, even if it meant spilling all her humiliating secrets.
* * *
Tom had already put one coat of navy blue paint on the walls of the downstairs guest room when Jeanette came flying in and screeched to a halt, her eyes wide, her expression indignant.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Navy blue? Who wants to sleep in a room that dark?”
“I do,” he said.
“You are not sleeping in this room, or in this house, for that matter.”
“Not what you were suggesting the other day,” he reminded her.
“A gentleman would not bring that up.”
“Then I guess we know what that makes me,” he replied as he kept right on rolling the paint.
“An obnoxious pig,” she suggested sweetly.
Tom hid a smile. At least she was speaking to him. He hadn’t been sure she would.
She marched up and stared at him. “Are you smiling? Please tell me you are not smiling.”
“I’m not smiling,” he said, though his lips kept twitching.
“Tom McDonald, this is not even one tiny bit amusing. I don’t want you getting ideas about me or about this room.”
“Too late,” he said. “I have plenty of ideas. You gave me most of them.”
“Well, get rid of them.”
“Sorry, darlin’, I can’t do that, especially not with you standing right up in my face breathing fire. That kind of makes me want to kiss you.”
She backed up a step, looking alarmed. “No kissing.”
He regarded her solemnly. “You seem to be having trouble making up your mind lately.”
“Oh, go to hell,” she said, and flounced out.
This time he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. He didn’t even try. That had gone well. Better than he’d expected, in fact.
He’d been thinking a lot about his own stupidity the other day. Next time she made him an offer, he had no intention of refusing it. Of course, given the outcome last time, coaxing her into making another offer might take a while. Since he wasn’t an especially patient man, he was just going to have to do everything in his power to speed up the process. Riling her from time to time to get her juices stirring looked as if it might work out nicely. Just now she’d appeared to be about one taunt away from another very memorable lip-lock.
* * *
Though Jeanette didn’t have nearly enough furniture to fill the house, what she did have was in place and gleaming with furniture polish. The hardwood floors shone and the downstairs rooms had all been freshly