The Sweetheart Bargain (A Sweetheart Sisters Novel) (10 page)

“No, I mean, here, in Rescue Bay. Next door to me.”

“I”—she paused—“I’m looking for something.”

He reached up and captured her jaw with his hand. His hand was warm, big, the kind of touch that begged her to come closer, to trust, to open herself to him. She resisted for one long second, her breath caught in the mesmerizing mix of this mysterious, complicated man. Then she leaned into his touch, wanting . . . wanting more than she could say.

“What happens if you find it?” he said.

“I haven’t planned that far. This is all so”—she released a breath—“so complicated.”

His thumb traced along her jaw, her lower lip. Her pulse thundered in her head, and she inhaled deeply the sweet, spicy scent that surrounded him. “Too complicated.”

She nodded, whatever words she might have been thinking lost. Her gaze locked on Luke’s blue eyes, on the mystery of that scar, on the dark storm warring in his features.

“Don’t think I’ll be your knight in shining armor,” he said, his voice low and dark, and in that sound, she heard an echo of pain. “I don’t do rescue. Not anymore.”

She shook her head. “I won’t.”

What did he want? What was in that touch? The heat between them? Her heart raced, even as she told herself this man wanted nothing to do with her. That she wanted nothing to do with him. But oh, right now, for this moment, she wanted that touch, wanted . . .

Complicated.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave, Olivia,” he said, her name a melody on his tongue, his mouth so close to hers that the heat of his words danced across her lips. “Because I just want to be left alone.”

“Me too.” The words escaped in a rush. She wanted to run. Wanted to stay. Wanted to know what he was going to say or do next.

“I’m no good for you,” he said, each word softening more than the one before, his gaze locked on hers, mesmerizing, powerful, undeniable. “For anyone.” The last escaped in a growl, and then he closed the gap between them and lowered his lips to hers. “Damn it, Olivia.” Her name now a harsh whisper on his lips, sending a rush through her.

The kiss erupted between them, a hot, fast, furious tangle of mouths. Her hands wove into his hair, drawing him closer, wanting more of that . . . anger, that passion. Desire ignited inside her, leaping from nerve to nerve like an electrical spark. Heat flooded her veins, rushed over her in a tidal wave. She surged toward him, seeking, yearning, needing. Images teemed in her mind, of his hands, his mouth, his body. The two of them coming together, separating, hungry for something to fill the void, to find the one thing that would fill the empty nights. This wasn’t just desire, it was a want that rushed over her like a tsunami, demanding and strong.

Damn.

An instant later, he broke away from her, and disappointment flooded her veins. His jaw hardened and he shook his head. “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s—”

“We, uh, should call the vet.” He turned and took a step to the right. She told herself she was glad. Relieved even.

Yet a part of her wanted him to kiss her again. To take her to those dizzying heights one more time, then take it further. If he had, would she have found herself in bed with the neighbor, enjoying a little afternoon delight?

That would be a mistake, because she knew, as sure as she knew her own name, that getting involved with Luke Winslow would shatter her world in new ways. He had an edge about him, about his touch, his kiss, his words, that tempted and scared her, all at the same time.

Right now, she didn’t need complicated. Didn’t need to fall for a self-proclaimed ogre. Even if he was sexy as hell and could kiss like . . .

Like no man she’d ever met.

He fished a cell phone out of his pocket, flipped it open, pressed a couple keys, then cursed. “Damn type is so small.”

“Let me.” She put out her hand. “Please?”

“Fine.” He plopped the phone into her hand. “It should be under Tuttle. Diana Tuttle.”

Olivia’s hand stilled, her finger poised over the keypad. “Did you say Tuttle?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at Olivia. “Maybe you know her? She’s the daughter of the woman who owned that house you live in.”

Her gaze dropped to the screen. Luke had already typed the first three letters. Olivia hit search, and in a second, the name returned. She traced over the letters. Diana Tuttle.

Her sister.

Five

“Greta,” Esther whispered, “this is crazy.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a good idea,” she said, shushing Esther with her free hand while she waved at Pauline to angle the car farther into the parking lot. After she’d left Luke’s house earlier, she’d dug her cell phone out of the suitcase she called a purse, then called the girls for some necessary backup. By the time Pauline got her teeth in and her hair poufed, Greta about had a conniption fit. It took a good fifteen minutes for Pauline’s giant white Cadillac to prowl down the street, at Pauline’s usual speed of
turtle
.

“What are we doing here anyway?” Esther asked. “I’m missing my shows, you know. I hate to miss my shows.”

“We’re here to make sure we . . . give the right advice.” That was what Greta had told the girls they were doing—offering their wisdom to Olivia. She didn’t mention the meddling she intended to do, which would hopefully result in pushing Olivia and Luke together.

“If you ask me,” Pauline said, “the best advice comes from the heart and—”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Pauline, it does not. It comes from making the decisions for people and shoving them toward those choices. If you ask me, most people don’t know what the hell to do with themselves.”

“We aren’t making decisions. We might even be breaking the law.” Esther put up her hands, as if that would shield her in the car from such bad choices. Maybe she should have done the same with the bright orange dress she had on today. The thing could be used to direct airplanes on the runway. “Isn’t this trespassing?”

“We are observing. That’s not illegal,” Greta said. Lord, there were days when these women drove her to drink. Where was their sense of adventure? Their penchant for a little trouble? “Were you all nuns as teenagers or something?”

“I went to a Catholic girls’ school,” Esther said.

“That explains a lot.” Greta muttered the words. Pauline bit her lip to keep from laughing, and Esther’s face scrunched.

Across from them, Olivia’s car had pulled into the veterinarian’s parking lot. Greta waited, sure the passenger-side door would open and her grandson would emerge. But no, only the driver got out. Olivia. She went to the back door and carefully drew out the golden, balancing the big dog in her arms and shutting the car door with her knee.

No Luke.

Hmmmph. Greta sat in Pauline’s Cadillac and turned that over in her mind. Somehow, she needed to get Olivia and Luke to talk, maybe go on a date. She’d expected that they would take the dog to the vet together. She’d been so sure when she left that Luke’s love for animals would win over his need to be alone.

Clearly, his pain ran deeper than she’d thought. She sighed, her heart breaking for her wounded grandson.

She needed to get him to enjoy life again. Luke used to be one of those hard-charging, go-after-whatever-he-wanted kind of young men. All energetic optimism and reckless abandon. Even when he’d been a little boy, Luke had been the first one into the surf, the first one to climb a tree, the first one to ask out a girl. Greta hadn’t been surprised one bit when he’d signed up for the Coast Guard, opting for a military career that would allow him to save people right here in the United States. He’d been courageous and ambitious, which had gotten him advanced quickly. But ever since the accident, that spark had dimmed in Luke, and though Greta had done everything she could to help him find it again, he’d kept the doors shut. Literally.

If she could just get Luke to see that life hadn’t ended, just changed . . .

“Here’s the plan,” Greta said. “We go over there and ask Olivia to go to lunch with us over at the Shoebox Café after she’s done with the dog thing. Meanwhile, I’ll call Luke and ask him to walk down and meet me for lunch. As soon as he arrives, we conveniently ditch Luke and Olivia and go somewhere else.”

Esther’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean, ditch them? We’re not getting lunch?”

“We’re not here to fill our bellies, Esther.”

“But I’m hungry. They had eggs this morning for breakfast. You know I don’t like eggs. I need a starch in the morning.”

“Then we’ll stop and get you a muffin,” Greta said.
Lord, grant me patience and keep me from slapping Esther Gerke. Thank you. I’ll drop an extra couple bucks in the collection plate on Sunday. I swear.
“Are you in?”

Pauline shrugged. “Sure. I don’t have anything to do today. And maybe we can add some of the details of our adventure to the column—”

“Absolutely not. This entire mission is top secret.”

Across from them, Esther’s lips pursed again. But she didn’t protest. Probably afraid they’d skip the promised muffin.

Olivia cradled the dog in her arms and headed for the vet’s office. She held the dog with no more effort than a sack of potatoes; the poor thing was so sickly it didn’t seem to weigh much despite its size. Greta motioned to Pauline and Esther to follow her. She ambled forward, her purse dangling from her forearm, as if she spent every afternoon strolling downtown Rescue Bay.

“Why, hello, Olivia,” Greta called. “What are you doing here?”

Olivia stopped when she saw the trio of women and shot them a grin. She shifted the dog’s weight in her arms. “I’m beginning to think you ladies are following me,” she said with a laugh.

“Not at all. We just had errands to run downtown today, and this is all a coincidence, right, ladies?”

“Oh, yes, coincidence,” Pauline said.

Esther didn’t say anything. Pauline nudged her. Hard. “Yup. Nothing illegal about that.”

Greta drew in a deep, fortifying breath. And people questioned why she needed a little Maker’s Mark in the morning? Goodness gracious. Greta put on a smile and nodded toward the dog. “Is that the pooch that was on my grandson’s doorstep earlier today?”

“Yes. He’s hurt and malnourished,” Olivia said, “so I’m bringing him to the vet to get looked at.”

“Poor baby,” Pauline said, reaching out to give the golden a gentle pat on the head.

“You know, all these errands have kept us so busy we forgot to eat. We’re famished,” Greta said. “How would you like to join some old ladies for a little lunch after you’re done?” She leaned toward Olivia, because she could already see her readying an objection. “You need to eat, right? And there’s the best little diner just around the corner.”

Olivia hedged. “Oh, I don’t know—”

“Please do,” Pauline said. “It’ll be nice to dine with someone other than ourselves.”

“Thanks for the offer, ladies, but I have to get the dog into the vet. I’m not sure how long that’s going to take. Besides, I’m not hungry.”

“I am,” Esther said.

Greta shot her a glare.

“Thanks again anyway, Mrs. Winslow, ladies, but I’ll have to take a rain check.” Then Olivia turned on her heel and headed toward the building. The automatic glass door opened with a whoosh and Olivia disappeared inside.

Greta sighed. So much for Operation Happiness. Her first attempt at matchmaking had fizzled before it even got a chance to work. “Well,” she said to Pauline and Esther. “We’re going to have to work harder if we want to get those two together.”

“Don’t you think love should come about naturally? Without any nudging?” Esther said.

“Of course not. Where’s the fun in that?” Greta watched the retreating figure of the woman she was positive was her grandson’s perfect match and wondered whether it was possible to recruit a dog to join their team.

Either that, or they needed a miracle, and as favors from God went, Greta didn’t think she had too many credits left in the Big Guy’s ledger.

“We’re going to make this romance happen,” Greta said, “because Luke needs that woman. He’s just too stubborn to realize it.”