The first line from that old Bonnie Tyler song “I Need a Hero” ran through her head: ‘Where have all the good men gone?’ Maybe it was time to take a break from dating. She wasn’t getting better at it; she was getting worse.
* * * * *
Within a few minutes of Quinn’s arrival home, the doorbell rang. A glance through the blinds revealed a little girl holding a plate of cookies. He smiled as he undid the bolt and opened the door. Unlike their older and supposedly wiser counterparts, children weren’t put off by his appearance. They might stare and ask questions, but they accepted him.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” he asked, crouching down to look her in the eye.
“Dr. Phillips, I brought you some oatmeal raisin cookies. I helped Mommy bake them.”
“Thank you, Winnie.” His glance went beyond her to the woman smiling at him from the bottom of the steps. “Hey, Isabel. Do you have time to come inside and share some of these cookies with me?”
“We’d love to,” she answered. “I’ve been dying to see what you picked up at that estate sale.”
Quinn laughed as he stood up and waved them inside. “So you’ve been spying on me again.”
“When a delivery van pulls in at six a.m., it gets my attention.”
He closed the door and led the way to the kitchen. “I hope I have some milk. Jase goes through about two gallons a day.”
“Is Mr. Jase home?” Winnie asked in a hopeful voice.
“Well, his car’s in the garage so we can assume so. Go stand at the bottom of the stairs and yell his name really loud.”
Isobel laughed as Winnie ran out of the room at top speed. “Jase won’t thank you for that.”
“Probably not, but it’ll be good for him. He needs to come up for air every now and then. He spends too much time in front of a computer screen.”
Winnie skipped back into the room. “Mr. Jase said he’d be down in a minute.”
“It appears he left us some milk, too,” Quinn said, getting the carton out of the refrigerator.
Isobel took the plate of cookies from Winnie and put them on the counter.
“Dr. Phillips! I’m going to be a princess for Halloween.”
“No one saw that coming,” said a voice from behind them.
Three heads swiveled around to look at the young man lounging against the doorframe wearing a t-shirt and a pair of striped sleep pants. Winnie started to giggle; Quinn turned a laugh into a cough.
“Mr. Jase! Your hair is all messed up.”
“Nonsense, little lady. This is the latest style.” Jase turned to Isobel. “Good morning, neighbor.”
“Hey, there,” Isobel replied, visibly struggling to keep a straight face.
“It’s seven p.m.,” Quinn told his brother. “That’s evening to most people.”
Jase brushed this aside. “I reject such conformity. Time is a matter of opinion.” He walked over to stand by Winnie. “Are those cookies I see?”
“Yes, Mr. Jase. I brought some for you and Dr. Phillips to share.”
Quinn turned to Isobel. “Winnie can watch Jase for a second while we take a look at my new dining room furniture.” He ignored his brother’s smirk as he allowed Isobel to precede him across the hall into the long, narrow room. “I couldn’t believe I found a complete set, not only the table and chairs, but two buffets as well. It’s late 1800s. Solid mahogany.”
“It’s beautiful, Quinn. How many leaves does it have?”
“Two. It’ll seat up to twelve people. That’ll be nice at the holidays when my family comes over.”
“There’s not a mark on it, either.”
“The seller told me it only had one owner.”
When they returned to the kitchen, Isobel looked at the half empty plate. “What happened to the cookies?”
“Mr. Jase ate five, and I had two.”
“That takes care of your bedtime snack. It’s time for us to go. Daddy will be getting home soon.”
“Okay, Mommy.” She turned to the two men. “I gotta go now. Bye-bye.”
When they were alone again, Jase carried Winnie’s cup to the sink. “Everything’s a go with the cottage. They’ll start working on getting the permits on Monday. Steve said that would take a week to ten days.”
Quinn picked up one of the cookies. “Then the real fun begins. Eight weeks of my driveway being crammed with trucks and sporting one of those huge dark green dumpsters. I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“It’s my former life as a realtor coming out. I can’t stand to see a potential rental property go to waste.”
“I hope I don’t live to regret it. If you can drag yourself away from that novel you’re writing, you can help me with the Chevelle tomorrow.”
Jase’s eyes brightened. “Are you going to try to start it?”
“Try being the operative word. I’ve got a feeling the carburetor as well as everything else is clogged. It’s been buried in the back of a vacant lot for decades.”
“Knock on my door when you’re ready.”
“I was thinking of getting out there early.”
“That’s okay; I don’t plan on going to bed until tomorrow afternoon. See ya.” With an airy wave, Jase left the kitchen. A few seconds later, Quinn heard music coming from the direction of the exercise room.
He finished the cookie in his hand and went upstairs. When he entered his bedroom, his glance went to the huge arched window through which a wide expanse of blue could be seen. Avery had wanted to live close to the water; it was one of the main reasons he bought the house. This was a view he’d planned to share with her. Now the place where he’d hoped to be so happy had become a symbol of his greatest failure.
Seven months had passed since she gave him back her ring. The ring he’d spent weeks scouring jewelry stores looking for. The ring he’d slid on her finger the night he asked her to marry him.
The postponement of their wedding had been the beginning of the end. It didn’t matter that he was still the same person she’d fallen in love with. Nothing could reconcile her to becoming his wife. The truth was as ugly as the scars on his body: Avery didn’t want the new and much less physically appealing Quinn.
What would have happened if he’d gone to South Sudan after they got married? He supposed he’d be dealing with a divorce instead of a broken engagement.
A haggard sigh slipped unnoticed through his lips. There had been a time when he believed love could conquer all; that there was truly no obstacle it couldn’t overcome. Now he knew it for what it really was: a shallow emotion that flees at the first sign of adversity. He was better off without it.
Chapter Two
Five months later…
Ellen’s eyes found their way to the clock on the wall for the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes. The attentive smile on her face never altered. The only sign of her agitation was the slight tapping of her foot on the carpeted floor.
What was so hard about choosing between pink and yellow roses? No woman would complain about getting two dozen roses in either color.
The middle-aged man across the counter roused himself from his contemplation of the price sheet. “I’ll go with the yellow ones. Can you deliver them by noon tomorrow?”
“Certainly. Two dozen yellow roses with delivery is forty-nine dollars and fifty cents.”
Another five minutes ticked off the clock while he retrieved his wallet and painstakingly counted out the money. Here was proof that some people still carried cash. By the time she handed him the receipt, it was all Ellen could do not to scream. She would never get there in time.
As soon as the door closed behind him, she turned the sign and the lock. Then she blew through the curtains separating the shop from the work area and addressed the young man sitting on a stool, his attention on the phone in his hand.
“Frank, I need you to lock up for me.”
His eyes left the screen. “You’re not coming back?”
Ellen tried to control her impa
tience. No need to point out that the shop officially closed at five and it was now five-forty-five. Those kinds of details went over Frank’s curly blonde head, but he had a flair for floral design and worked cheap. “I’ve got an appointment. Don’t forget to water the plants and shut off the lights. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Will do,” he said absently, his attention back on his phone.
Once inside her car, her thoughts went to the phone call she’d received earlier in the day. Everything had been going great until she heard the groom’s name. Awkward didn’t begin to describe being the florist for her ex-boyfriend’s wedding. Did Mark know or was his head stuck in the sand like usual?
He had the dubious honor of being the only negative to come out of her relocation to St. Marys. Inheriting her aunt’s florist shop last July had given Ellen the chance to return to her hometown. Her parents thought she was crazy for giving up a good job in North Carolina to take over a business she knew little about, and maybe she was, but what might have been a difficult transition had been amazingly easy.
St. Marys welcomed her back into the fold like a long-lost friend. Within days of her arrival, she reconnected with several people she knew in high school. As for the business of selling flowers, she leaned heavily on the older lady who’d worked for her aunt. Ellen’s patience and eagerness to learn had done the rest. Lettie’s recent retirement had left Ellen and Frank on their own going into the busiest time of year for a florist. She hoped they were up for the challenge.
Over the soothing notes of “Claire de lune”, she heard her phone. Glancing at the screen, she smiled ruefully. “Hey, Mom.”
“Are you out somewhere? There’s a lot of noise in the background.”
“I’m on my way to look at a cottage that’s for rent.”
“Will you have enough money to buy groceries after you pay the rent?”
“Of course. It took me a few months, but Violets are Blue is no longer losing money.”
“Bethany and the kids are coming home this weekend. I wish you were closer so you could come, too. You’re working yourself to death.”
“I’m actually working fewer hours than I did at the bank, and believe it or not, this is more enjoyable. I haven’t had a migraine since I moved here.”
“Well, that’s something to be glad about. How are you doing otherwise? Are you seeing anyone?”
Ellen took a deep breath and counted to ten. Her mother was so worried that her younger daughter was going to end an old maid. It didn’t help that her sister Bethany had married right out of college. Ellen would be twenty-eight in a few months with no man in sight. She tried to explain how the experience with Mark left her disillusioned with the male sex, but in her mother’s mind, such apathy was cause for alarm if not downright panic.
“No, not right now. It’s for the best really. I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”
“I wish you were as concerned about your own wedding as you are with everyone else’s.”
Her mother was concerned enough for both of them. “If I could meet someone like Faith’s husband Landris or Matt Gibson, I’d get married tomorrow. All the nice guys are already taken.”
Her mother laughed. “That’s what I thought until I met your father. Sometimes love comes in the most unlikely places.”
“Maybe my knight in shining armor will walk into the shop, and it will be one of those ‘eyes meeting across a crowded room’ kind of experiences. I’ve always wondered what that would be like.”
“You’re more romantic than you like to let on.”
“I’m a hopeless romantic. That’s a lot for a man to live up to. I’ll let you know about this place I’m going to see.”
“Please do, and if you need help with the rent, let me know.”
“I will, Mom. Give Bethany and the kids a hug for me.”
Five minutes later she turned her car into the Sea Breezes subdivision. A combination of events had landed her in this trouble. Her cousin Peter had been letting her stay rent free in her Aunt Selena’s house while he made all the necessary repairs to put it up for sale. With the housing market in a near record decline, Ellen had been banking on it taking months to find a buyer. It was just her luck that a week after the realtor sign appeared in the yard an elderly couple offered her cousin his asking price and paid cash. The new owners would be taking possession in five days. So here she was, scrambling around at the eleventh hour, trying to find somewhere to live.
A glance at her watch told her what she already knew: she was a half hour late. She scanned the numbers tacked on the elaborate brick mailboxes, fervently hoping that the man she was supposed to meet hadn’t tired of waiting and left. Her glance returned to the scribbled address on the paper in her hand. Had she written it down wrong? There was no 2228 Sea Grape Lane. The house to the left was 2227 and the one on the right was 2229.
Ellen blew out a breath of frustration. This wasn’t what she needed right now. Leaving her car parked in the space between the two driveways, she grabbed her purse and walked swiftly along the sidewalk of the house on the right. Her hand was poised to knock when the door opened.
A youngish man stood in the doorway, his t-shirt and shorts giving the appearance of having been slept in not one night, but several. His sandy hair looked as if he’d just raked his fingers through it, and his green eyes were bloodshot.
“Oh, hello,” she said breathlessly. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m looking for Jase. Do you happen to know anyone by that name?”
“Why are you looking for him?”
Ellen wasn’t in the mood for games. She didn’t have any more time to waste. “Do you know him or not?”
“Sure, I know him.” His eyes ran over her, the scrutiny slow enough to ruffle her already agitated feathers.
“There was an ad in the paper about a cottage for rent. I was supposed to meet someone named Jase at five-thirty.”
Long, slim fingers ran down his unshaven face. “I forgot all about that ad, but then again, I’ve been locked in my room for the last week.” At her startled glance, he went on. “I guess I should explain that. I’m a writer with a deadline looming.”
“So you’re Jase? I talked to you this morning. Don’t you remember?”
“Not really,” he admitted with a smile that was strangely familiar. “But at that time I didn’t know how pretty you were.”
Her eyebrows rose. Did he realize how idiotic he sounded? “Is there a place for rent?”
Jase laughed as he closed the door behind him and motioned her to follow him. “Sure is.” He led the way around the side of the house, pointing to a one-story structure situated between the four-car garage and a rectangular swimming pool. “It’s a guest house that was added to the property by the former owners.” Opening the door, he waved her inside.
The area they entered was a combination living/dining room with a small kitchen flanking the far corner. The walls were off-white; the ceramic tile covering the floor was beige. A door just off the foyer led to a nice-sized bedroom and bathroom.
“How much are you asking?”
“How much do you think it’s worth?”
“It depends. Do I have to pay for utilities?”
“Just electric. You’ve got your own meter.”
Ellen looked around the cottage again. Why was she hesitating? This was the answer to her problems. She’d have more privacy here than in an apartment. “I’ll give you seven fifty a month.”
“That sounds fair. Let’s go with that. When do you want to move in?”
“Two days from now. I’ll need a key for the door.”
Jase laughed as they walked back in the direction of the main house. “Don’t trust us, huh?”
“It’s not that. I don’t want someone coming in off the street.”
“I’m just teasing. I’ve got the lease inside.”
She followed him into a sunroom that overlooked the pool. “Are you the owner?”
Jase shook his head as he handed her a packet of pa
pers. “I’m his brother. Look these over and let me know if you have any questions. It’s a standard rental contract.”
Ellen quickly read through them and signed where he indicated. “Where can I park?”
“In front of the garage door closest to the cottage. You’re welcome to use the pool. Just make sure you lock the gate when you leave. There’s a little girl in the house next door. We don’t want her accidentally wandering into that area.”
“Is it just you and your brother?”
“Yep. You’ll be living next door to a couple of bachelors.”
Ellen glanced through the windows. “Is that an English style garden hiding back there?”
Jase nodded. “It even has a maze. My brother had it put in for his…for the woman he was going to marry. She spent the early part of her life in England.”
Was going to marry? What had happened? “That was a nice thought.”
“Very nice,” he said dryly. “And very undeserved.”
Ellen let that go. It was none of her business. “I appreciate you letting me rent the cottage.”
“No problem. Let me know if you need any help moving in.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got someone lined up already. Goodbye.”
* * * * *
Quinn noticed the lights shining in the windows of the guest house when he pulled into the garage. Jase had told him about acquiring a tenant. While he was relieved to have someone in there with so little effort, he couldn’t help but be a little concerned. His brother’s judgment in most things was suspect. When a woman was involved, he had none at all.
All a female had to do was smile, and it was game, set, match. Jase fell in and out of love on a weekly basis. His enthusiasm for their new neighbor was nothing new. With his usual flair for exaggeration, he’d referred to her as a pocket Venus. What else could Quinn expect from a guy who spent his days writing historical fiction?
The odor of Chinese take-out assaulted his nose when he stepped into the house. Jase had an aversion to cooking that bordered on the ridiculous. He was also the only person Quinn knew who could go days without eating.
A stack of mail stood on the counter alongside a twelve-pack of 5-hour energy drinks. The latter was a sure sign that Jase was reaching the end of his current work-in-progress and was determined not to sleep until he finished. Being something of a health nut, Quinn found Jase’s eating and sleeping habits not only strange, but alarming.
Yours, With Love: A Sweet Contemporary Romance (Finding Love Book 5) Page 2
