Cooking Up Trouble (7 page)

When the pizza came, they ate on Ian's back patio. He drank beer and she drank wine, and they tossed the cardboard box in the trash to clean up.

Before she drove home, she said, “You know, Garth's idea of a security system isn't half bad.”

He nodded. “I'll call and get something set up tomorrow. My first thought when I saw the chandelier was that someone had broken in, too. Might as well do something about that.”

“Are you coming for supper?” Tessa asked.

“Do you want me? I cost you a lot of time today.”

“Thursdays are crock-pot days. Either that or peanut butter and jelly.”

“I like grape.”

He looked so distraught, she gave him a hug. “Hang in there, friend.”

When he hugged her back, he held her a little longer than comfortable. All sorts of lust-filled zings zipped through her. The man felt good. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and jam her tongue down his throat. Not neighborly thoughts. His chest and abs felt rock-hard. So were his thighs. So was . . .
oh, lord
. . . that again. She tried not to think about it. When he released her, he grinned. “And I don't like crunchy. I like smooth.”

“What?” She looked at him, dazed.

“Peanut butter,” he said.

She laughed, relieved they'd returned to safe ground. “My favorite, too. Got it.”

On the drive back to her white bungalow, she tried to collect her thoughts. Oh, lord, her inner self was a slut. She'd have to keep that part of herself on a leash.
Down, girl, he's only a neighbor.

Then her thoughts turned to the shattered chandelier on Ian's floor and the friends who'd come to help him. Mill Pond had embraced Ian as one of their own. But then, why wouldn't they? Ian was special.

G
rams stepped through the back door of the barn, into the kitchen, and shook her head at Tessa. “Your cute, little neighbor has had a rough time of it.”

Tessa nodded. “It was nice of you to call in the cavalry to help him out.”

“People wanted to come. We like that boy.” Grams hung her sweater on a peg by the door and came to grab a stack of pie tins. “What are we making this week?”

Tessa nodded toward the bags of frozen peaches she'd taken out of her chest freezer. “Peach pies, sugar cream pies, and German chocolate pies.”

“We'd better make extra German chocolates. Those are a thank-you to Garth, aren't they? He loves those.”

Tessa smiled. “He loves anything with coconut in it.”

“Coconut pie's easier.” Grams started measuring flour into a large bowl.

“Too much like sugar cream.” Tessa started putting the ingredients for rum cake de Maison on her side of the granite counter, including the fresh oranges and white rum.

“What kinds of cookies are we baking today?” Grams cut ice-cold butter into squares to add to the dry ingredients for the piecrusts.

“M&Ms, molasses, and sugar cookies.” A little bit of everything. Grams nodded, and she and Tessa got to work. They each had a routine, and they sailed through the morning.

Once the pies were in the oven, Grams said, “Rumor is Garth and Leona went back to his place after they left the bar last night.”

“Really?” Tessa slid the last round cake pan into the bottom oven. “I'd have never pictured those two together.” Garth was in his mid-thirties, a little shorter than Leona, with a belly that wasn't getting smaller. He wasn't bad looking, but he wasn't good looking either.

“He owns his own business, has a decent house with enough room for a hair salon downstairs, and he's financially stable,” Grams said. “He's never been married, doesn't have kids, and Leona's car is on the fritz.”

Tessa blinked. “Gee, put that way . . .”

Grams chuckled. “It just might work. What about you? I heard you had a visitor this week.”

Tessa recounted the story about Gary stopping in and giving her a hard time about staying single.

“He's right,” Grams said. “You're playing it too safe. It's time to live again.”

Tessa frowned, tired of the lecture. “Maybe I'll drive into the city and stop at a bar, find someone fun.”

Grams didn't take the bait. “Works for me. Just use protection.”

“Yeah, right.” Grams would have heart failure if Tessa actually picked up a stranger for a one-night stand.

Grams' expression softened. “So Gary's going to have a baby?”

“Don't go there.”

“It's been a while since I've held a baby. I don't think that brother of yours is ever going to have one.”

Craig was eight years older than she. He and his lawyer wife worked hard and played hard. “Craig and Nora would rather hit hot vacation spots and travel. Kids aren't on the agenda.”

“Exactly. You're my only hope.”

“Bull pucky.” Tessa heated a double boiler to start her chocolate frosting.

“You can borrow anybody's kids in town that you want to. Everyone loves you. Even with background music, I won't buy your poor me routine.”

Grams laughed. “Hey, an old lady has to try.”

“Good effort, now move on.”

They finished filling the long, glass dessert cases earlier than usual, and Grams gave her a merry wave as she sped to town to meet a friend. Tessa spent another hour filling shelves with condiments and getting the shop ready for business tomorrow, then wandered to the house.

Ian was coming for supper. And no, she wouldn't serve peanut butter and jelly. This morning, she'd started a turkey breast in the slow cooker to make French dip turkey sandwiches. She'd brought four of each cookie home for dessert and got busy making a Waldorf salad. When Ian walked through the back door and looked at the table, a grin crinkled his face.

“How do you do it?” he asked. “I'm starving. I made myself a grilled cheese for lunch, and it didn't fill me up.”

She'd watched the man eat, and she couldn't believe he didn't weigh a thousand pounds. “How do you stay in shape?” she asked. “How do you have so many muscles?”

His grin widened, and he flexed his arm to show off his biceps. “You've noticed? I work out. I have a weight bench in my office, a chin-up bar, and I do a hundred push-ups at a time.”

So that was the trick.

“I like to play sports, too. I haven't had the time lately, but I try to keep active.”

She shook her head. “Well, you look good.”

“You'd know.” His chocolate-brown eyes sparkled. “You saw me in the shower.”

She couldn't stop the blush that colored her cheeks. “I haven't told anyone about that.”

“Lily's told everyone she knows. She thought it was hilarious.”

Lily would.

“It makes for a great story.” Tessa removed the skin from the turkey breast, sliced the white meat, and returned it to the sauce. A distraction. She didn't want to think about Ian pressed against the glass shower doors. She nodded to the crusty buns she'd toasted. “Let's eat.”

When they sat at the table, Tessa asked, “Did you tell Lily about the barn stalls and the chandeliers?”

He nodded. “At first, she accused me of smashing them. She knew I didn't like them that much.”

“And then?”

“Lily doesn't understand. She said that if Mill Pond doesn't want me and it's too hard to get started here, I should put a F
OR
S
ALE
sign in front of the property and go back to finances.”

Tessa stared. “Would you do that?”

“Hell, no.” His voice turned steely. “If anything, the vandalism and mess-ups make me want to dig in more. Lily walks away from battles. I don't.”

No, Ian wasn't the type to give up, she could tell.

They made it an early night. Friday would be a busy day for both of them. Tessa and Grams would work in the bakery all day tomorrow and Saturday. Lily was coming to town late Friday afternoon. Ian needed to conserve his strength. Tessa thumped her pillow when she fell into bed that night and drifted to sleep in an off mood.

T
he phone rang at three in the morning.

Tessa grabbed it. “Grams?” Was she all right? Had she fallen? Had something happened?

A male voice answered. “Tessa, I'm in a bit of a jam.”

Really?
Tessa had to work in the bakery all day Friday and Saturday. “This had better be good.”

“There's a bat flying around in my bedroom,” Ian said. “A big one. How do I get rid of it?”

She groaned. “Do you have a tennis racket?”

“Somewhere. It's in a stack of boxes in the garage, not sure which one.”

“Have you tried throwing dead bugs in the air and leading it outside?”

“You're not all that funny.”

She sighed. “I'll be there in a few minutes.”

She put a bra on under her pajama top, decided her pj bottoms were good enough, and grabbed her own racket. On the drive to Ian's, she rolled down the window of her pickup and inhaled the cool, night air. She wasn't in a particular hurry. The idiot man would survive a lone bat until she got there. It was a beautiful night—clear, with a canopy of bright stars sparkling overhead. She loved living on a lake. It made the air smell cleaner, fresher. Tree frogs trilled in the low, marshy area where a stream emptied into the lake.

When she parked by Ian's front door, he opened it and motioned her inside. He was in his pajama bottoms, too. Nothing more.
Lord have mercy.
How could a man look so good? She bit her bottom lip, trying to concentrate.

“Aren't you chilly without a shirt?” she asked.

“My chest of drawers is in the bedroom. The bat's diving all over in there. They go for your hair, don't they?”

He had wonderful hair—crisp and wavy—but Tessa doubted a bat would find it comfy.

He dragged her inside. “It's a fruit bat, right? You don't have any vampire bats around here?”

She rolled her eyes. What the hell did people who lived on the coasts read about the Midwest? “The werewolves ate all the vampire bats,” she told him. “You're safe.”

He scowled. He obviously didn't appreciate Midwest humor. “I called Bigfoot to help me, but he was busy. How do I get rid of it?”

She held up her tennis racket. “This way, we won't hurt it. We love bats around here. One bat eats tons of insects—like mosquitoes.”

“I'll thank it later, once it's out of my house.” He led her to his bedroom. She grimaced. Unoriginal—black comforter and sheets, dark furniture.

“It's from my apartment,” he said. “You can help me make it look better, right?”

Tessa shook her head. “Not me, that's Lily's job.” The bat swooped overhead, and Ian flinched. It finally clung to a rafter to rest.

Tessa stepped out of her sandals and looked at Ian. “Do you mind if I stand on your bed?”

“That's a new position, but whatever turns you on.”

It was her turn to scowl. “Open the bedroom door, wide, shut every other door you can, and open both of your double doors. We'll see if I can wave this guy outside.”

Ian hurried to do as she said. When he was finished, he called, “All ready.”

She climbed on the bed, stood on tiptoe, and tapped the rafter the bat clung to. The bat took off, and she swung the racket behind him. After a few failed attempts, the bat flew out of the bedroom. She hurried after it, shutting the door behind her and swinging the racket, high in the air, until the bat flew down the hallway and into the great room. The ceiling soared there, and the bat flew in circles, high above her head.

She pulled out a chair to stand on. She swung some more, hoping the movement would agitate the bat. Her top kept riding up, and she had to yank it lower. Thank the heavens, she'd put on a bra. The bat flew toward the fireplace, and she stretched a little too much to make it change direction. Ian hurried to grab her waist when her chair started to tip. His hands gripped her firmly to hold her steady. Her top rose again, and his fingers touched bare skin. Frissons of pleasure rippled through her body.

A half hour later, the bat swooped out the front doors. Tessa sagged on her chair, her arms tired from so much waving.

Still supporting her, Ian circled to face her, a look of triumph on his face. “You did it!” As he lowered her to the floor, her breasts brushed his bare chest. Electricity shot through Tessa's body. She hadn't been so aware of a man in a long time. He felt her body tense and his responded. He pulled her slightly closer. His gaze fastened on her lips. Too much temptation. She was wading in murky waters. She motioned to the open doors. “Better shut those before the bat comes back in.”

He jerked away from her and hurried to slam them closed. When he returned, his gaze looked as lust-filled as hers must. He tossed a teasing smirk her way. “And how did
you
get such great abs?”

The familiar blush crept to her cheeks. “I swim in good weather. I do crunches in winter, and I work in the yard. A girl can't just sit on her ass all day, writing.”

“And you hide all that gloriousness under baggy shirts?”

She shrugged. “I'm not looking, remember?”

He shook his head. “Such a shame. You deserve someone wonderful. I know you got hurt once, but honestly, Tessa, some man would do cartwheels for winning the jackpot if he caught you.”

“Not gonna happen. He'll have to look for another prize.”

Ian looked genuinely upset. “You're depriving yourself and some, poor sap of something wonderful.”

Tessa struggled to keep her gaze off his naked torso. She felt warm. Did women have hot flashes at her age? “No one said life was fair. I . . . and the sap will live.” She started to the door. The sooner she got out of there, the better. “I have a big day tomorrow. So do you. Lily's coming. We both need sleep. See you on Monday.”

Short, terse sentences. That's all she could manage. She hurried to her pickup and cussed herself on the drive home. She should have worn coveralls with a baggy shirt under them. Her mind said she wasn't interested in men, but her body didn't get the message. She was going to have to be careful around Ian.

Once back in her own bedroom, she looked in the mirror. Wild, copper hair spilled over her shoulders. Her eyes were too wide, too worried. Was this what had happened to Gary and Sadie? Had they been thrown together, living in the same apartment building, until their willpower proved too weak?

She pointed at her reflection. “I am not Sadie.” She would never steal some other woman's man. As if she could. But that didn't matter. She was stronger than that, had more resolve.

Once her head hit the pillow, though, thoughts of Ian swam in her dreams.