Amazing Gracie (11 page)

“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

W
hen 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 big joke on Kevin they could laugh about later. Gracie doubted Kevin would see it the same way.

“Okay, let’s say I was willing to pay you to intercede in my behalf. What would you charge?”

“A finder’s fee. Maybe fifty thousand,” he said with every bit as much brazenness as Kevin might have under the same circumstances.

Gracie laughed at his audacity. “Never mind. I think I’ll just go to the courthouse and check the property tax records.”

“Go ahead. Won’t tell you much.”

“Why not?”

“The bills go to Kevin.” He met her gaze with a friendly expression. “Bottom line, if you want to go around Kevin, you have to deal with me. I’ll be every bit as fair as he would be.”

Gracie stood. “Thanks all the same, but I don’t think so.”

He shrugged off the rejection. “That’s okay. You’ll change your mind. Kevin’s stubborn as a mule when he wants something, and I’ve got a pretty strong feeling what he wants is you. That house is his hold on you, isn’t it?”

She didn’t like Bobby Ray Daniels’s insinuations, but she couldn’t really deny them. She’d seen the gleam in Kevin’s eyes when he’d looked at her. Would he be beyond holding that house just out of her reach to keep her coming around? Probably not. That didn’t mean she had to deal with the likes of Bobby Ray to get what she wanted.

Ignoring Bobby Ray, she went to the counter to pay for her coffee.

“Steer clear of him,” Jessie warned in an undertone. “Bobby Ray’s okay in his own way, but there’s bad blood between him and Kevin.”

“So I gathered. How come?”

“It’s a family thing.”

“But I’d be willing to bet that you know every detail.”

“Well, of course I do,” Jessie agreed. “Doesn’t mean I’d tell a stranger.”

Gracie sighed. “How long will it take me to stop being an outsider around here?”

“Hard to say. Could be tomorrow. Could be you won’t live that long. Folks are fickle about acceptance. There’s no telling what’ll turn the tide. I can’t say if it matters, but I think you’re going to do okay, as long as you don’t push too hard. Take it a little slow. And whatever you do, don’t antagonize Kevin. People around here think that man hung the moon.”

“Because he was a high school basketball star?”

“Because he’s a decent kind of guy who’ll come through for you in a pinch.”

“You said something like that before, Jessie. What did Kevin do for you?”

“He came through for me, when no one else would. That’s the long and short of it. And I’m not the only one. If you’re looking for an example of someone who lives by the Golden Rule, you don’t need to look any further than Kevin.”

“Yet there’s bad blood between him and his cousin. Why is that?”

“You’ll have to ask Kevin or Bobby Ray about that. It’s their business,” Jessie said with finality and moved off to greet two customers who’d just come in.

Gracie struggled to grasp the distinction between spreading news of her activities far and wide and sharing a few insights into some apparently long-standing family feud in the Daniels clan. She didn’t quite get it, but it was
clear that Jessie had said as much as she intended to on the subject.

Back outside, Gracie debated the wisdom of going to the county courthouse in Montross to check property records. Bobby Ray had told her she’d be wasting her time, but the warning might have been totally self-serving. Or not.

It was such a beautiful day, too beautiful to spend indoors, looking through musty old records or even computerized ones if the county was up-to-date. The air was soft and warm, the sky a clear and brilliant blue. Maybe she should just go on back home and admire her new garden.

When she opted for the latter, she blamed it on Kevin’s sorry influence and made a hasty detour to the bookstore to pick up those cookbooks she’d concluded she needed. She might spend the day lazing around in her own backyard, but the time wouldn’t be totally wasted. She could choose recipes for the bed-and-breakfast.
Simple
recipes.

Two hours later, she was up to her elbows in broken eggs and flour. The kitchen looked as if a particularly nasty tornado had ripped through. Her version of the basic little souffle she’d seen made a thousand times in the Worldwide kitchens was burnt to a crisp and had fallen in the middle. There were five others just like it in the garbage.

“Maybe you ought to switch to scrambled eggs,” Kevin suggested.

Gracie glanced up from the mess and glared at him. “Where did you come from?” He was lounging in the doorway as naturally as if he belonged in her kitchen. She hadn’t heard him or his car.

“I knocked on the front door. Obviously you were distracted by the explosion.” He grinned. “That is what happened here, isn’t it? Something blew up?”

“Go to hell.”

His grin broadened. “People only resort to cursing when they can’t think of anything more creative to say.”

Before she could think of a few dozen creative ways to tell him to get lost, he moved into the room and began moving pots and pans and bowls into the sink and running hot water over them.

“Sit,” he instructed.

Gracie sat, because she was too exhausted to do anything else. She wanted to weep, but Kevin’s presence kept her from indulging in a good cry.

“Exactly what were you trying to accomplish here?” he inquired as he expertly scrubbed the dishes, dried them and, after a little poking around in the cupboards, put all but one pan exactly where they belonged. He set the remaining pan back on the stove, surveyed the mess on the table and retrieved eggs, cheese, and butter.

“I was practicing.”

“What exactly? Demolition work?” he inquired.

The butter began sizzling in the frying pan. Kevin whipped the eggs into a frothy mixture and poured it into the pan with smooth expertise.

“You’re not all that amusing,” she retorted, observing him enviously.

“Yeah, I suppose from your point of view I’m not. But darlin’, if you can’t laugh at yourself, life can get downright tedious.”

“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 con
niving 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.”