by Jo McNally
He knocked on the screen door, then hooked his finger on the latch and opened it. His arms were full of dog dishes, dog food, dog toys and a dog bed. And shampoo, of course. Brittany called out from the bathroom, her voice sharp.
“Hello? Who’s there?”
“It’s Nate. I told you I’d be back. I brought goodies.”
There was a pause, and he heard the laughter in her voice. “Just what every woman wants—a man bearing goodies.”
“I’m afraid the goodies are for the dog.” He glanced at the spotless kitchen. “Do you need anything? Did you eat?”
“Damn it, Joey, stay still.” He heard splashing. “I had dinner. But honestly...I could use a hand in here.”
He couldn’t resist needling her. “Are you sure? I thought you had this all under control.”
“Save your gloating for later, okay?”
He set everything down on the kitchen table, dug out the shampoo and went to the bathroom door. He was not prepared for the sight of Brittany on her knees next to the tub, trying to contain a highly offended, and very wet, dog. She was wearing the same pink outfit, but it was now soaking wet and clinging to her in some very interesting places. Her hair was gathered at the top of her head in a loose, floppy knot. She looked over her shoulder and arched a brow.
“Is that another thing small-town people do—eyeball each other’s asses?”
His laugh surprised them both. This city lady had attitude to spare. He wasn’t a big fan of attitude normally, but there was something...sharp...about her that appealed to him. And she had a point. He straightened, his cheeks warming.
“No... Sorry. That was hella rude.”
He handed her the shampoo and scooted around to the other side of the tub to grab the dog... Joey. Things were a lot easier with two sets of hands, and Joey was a much cleaner animal ten minutes later when Nate lifted him up and wrapped him in a towel. The dog snuggled into the towel, as if afraid this sudden change in his fortune might vanish at any moment.
Brittany sprayed the tub and wiped it down as Nate dried Joey. Other than a few places where his long hair was impossibly knotted, the dog looked much better. And he seemed to know it, too. When Nate put him down, he raced around the living room a few times, shaking himself and rubbing up against furniture as if he couldn’t believe his good luck. Nate grinned.
“He almost looks like an actual dog.” He pointed to the kitchen table when Brittany joined him. “I brought a few things you’ll need.”
Her eyes went wide. “A few? Looks like you emptied the pet section. How much do I owe you?” She pulled out two bowls, filling one with water and setting it on the floor while she waited for Nate to open the bag of food. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ This is a lot more than a pair of flip-flops.”
“We can settle up tomorrow at the store. I figure I’m next on your list.”
Brittany froze. That was probably an asinine move on his part, but he needed to remind himself that he still had no idea why she was vacationing here—he glanced around the sparsely furnished cabin—or why she was spending so much time with his business neighbors in town. She finished filling the food dish and set it down for a ravenous Joey, then straightened, regaining her cool composure.
“What list?”
“You’ve been to the consignment shop and the hair salon, and I saw you talking with Stella about her building.” He did his best to sound friendly and casual about it, rather than accusatory, but her expression told him he’d failed.
“So not only do you show up everywhere I am, you also keep track of what I do during the day?” She stared at the pile of pet supplies on her table. “You know what? I’ll pay you for what I’ve used, but you can take the rest back. I’m not...”
Nate held up his hand to stop her.
“I’m not taking it back. And I’m sorry for how that sounded just now. It’s just that this is a small...”
“A small town?” She folded her arms on her chest. “Yeah, I got that the first twenty times you brought it up. It’s not the first small town I’ve ever seen, Nate. I know how they work. Everybody in everybody’s business. All smiles in public, then backstabbing gossip shared over coffee.” She gestured in his direction. “Pretending to care, when all you really want is information.”
A minute ago they’d been laughing and bathing a dog together. Now they were in opposite corners, bristling and wary. But there was something about the way her voice almost broke when she said pretending to care that made him dial back his anger. He’d pushed her, but he hadn’t intended to hurt her. Yet somehow he knew he had.
“I do care.” His voice leveled. “I care about this town, and I care about the people here. And yes, I get...curious...when someone new shows up and starts visiting the businesses around me. Those are my friends. Most are older than me, and I’m protective of them. I won’t apologize for that.” He watched Joey settle himself in the overstuffed chair, spinning three times before collapsing in an exhausted heap of hair. He looked back to Brittany. “I’m not trying to offend you, and I’m definitely not stalking you. Or gossiping about you.” He pushed his conversation with Nora to the back of his mind. That was just one time. “But I gotta say, for someone with such a low opinion of small towns, I’m wondering why you said you’re thinking of moving here.”
Color rose on her cheeks, and she blinked a few times. Her gaze bounced around the room before returning to him.
“I’m in Gallant Lake to take a break from the rat race.” Nate hated how those words rang false in his head. She seemed to be a woman who’d relish any kind of race, as long as she had a shot at winning. But he barely knew her, so he held his peace and let her continue. “And yes, I’m looking at some business properties, but not for myself. I work in real estate, and I have a friend...a client...who might be interested in a waterfront business here.” That seemed more realistic to Nate. But she still seemed to be holding back. Her smile brightened. Too much? Or was he just being a jerk tonight? “In fact, he’s the only reason I even heard of Gallant Lake. He made it...” She hesitated, her smile faltering just a bit. “He made it sound like a place I had to visit.”
“So this is a business trip?”
“Sort of. I hope to get some pleasure, too.” She looked over to where Joey was snoring in the chair. “I mean, I already have a dog, right?”
“What kind of business is your friend looking to open here?” He heard himself and winced. He sounded like he was interrogating her, and he rushed to clarify. “I’m just saying I know every business and business owner in town. I might be able to help.”
“Maybe. But honestly, I’m exhausted.” She gestured around the tiny cabin. “This place might be humble, but it’s my home for the time being. And I try not to do business in my home.”
“You’re right. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you stop by the store tomorrow when you’re free, and we can talk about it during working hours. I’m serious about wanting to help.” He also was very curious about what kind of business an outsider might bring to his town. “And we can settle up on the dog stuff. I’m the one who talked you into keeping him, so I’ll give you a discount. Sound good?”
She nodded, but her gaze skittered around the room again. Was that a tell that she was hiding something? Or was she just a tired neighbor he should leave alone? She picked up the bright orange stuffed dog toy he’d brought over and grinned.
“It matches my flip-flops.” She’d moved them to safer conversation territory, and that was fine by him. “I really do appreciate you bringing all of this. I’ve never had a pet and wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Never? Not even as a kid?”
Just like that, her smile was gone, and shutters closed behind her eyes.
“Ugh...no. We had our hands full feeding ourselves. Didn’t need an extra hungry belly.” She stared off into the corner, and he was pretty sure she was
n’t actually seeing anything. Except maybe a glimpse into a childhood that clearly hadn’t been happy.
Miss I’m-in-Control had a story behind that hard-charging attitude of hers. Nate was surprised to realize he was now more curious about knowing that story than knowing why she was in Gallant Lake.
Chapter Five
Brittany hadn’t paid much attention to the parrot in Nate’s Hardware the first time she’d come in. The damn thing scared the bejesus out of her that day, almost setting her on her ass. But she’d been quickly distracted by Nate himself. His amusement at her predicament, and his efficiency at fixing it for her. She stopped by the cage.
Nate had seemed such a gentle, easygoing guy that first day. An easy target for Conrad’s plan. But there was more to Nate than his Mr. Nice Guy persona suggested. He was suspicious of her, and apparently had been right from the start. And she hadn’t picked up on it. It wasn’t like her to miss something like that. She was generally able to spot the skeptics right off—the ones who would righteously object to progress coming to their communities. Of course, that usually didn’t happen until she was well into the process of buying properties. Nate had started watching her right away. Like his parrot.
The bird was studying her from the back corner of the cage now, softly whistling to himself before hopping closer. The cage itself was up on wooden legs and had to be four foot square and maybe five feet tall. There were multiple perches crisscrossing the cage at different angles and intervals, and toys and dishes clipped to the black metal bars. The parrot suspended himself horizontally on the side of the cage, turning his head back and forth. He whistled once before making an announcement that made her laugh out loud.
“Sale! Sale! Sale! Everything’s on sale!”
Nate came out of the back office, hands on his hips.
“Hank, you’re going in the stew pot if you don’t quit that.”
Hank ruffled his feathers. “Help! Help! Help!”
She grinned, reaching toward the cage to rub his shimmering turquoise feathers. Nate grabbed her hand, shaking his head and pointing at the sign on the cage.
My name is Hank.
My hobbies are biting and cursing.
Don’t encourage me.
I’m a bad, bad bird.
“You keep a biting, cursing bird in your place of business?” She tried to ignore the little buzz of energy she felt in her hand, which Nate was still holding.
“Are you kidding? He’s the main attraction. He has a very loyal following in town.” Nate looked at his hand on hers and seemed surprised. He released her and nodded toward the parrot. “He doesn’t really bite that often, but when he does...well, let’s just say he can eat a raw carrot with that beak. And fingers poking through the bars look like carrots. He’s a very hungry bird.”
“Hungry bird! Hungry bird! Feed me, you lazy bast...”
“Hank! No.” Nick tapped the side of the cage. “Be nice for the pretty lady.”
“Pretty lady! Pretty lady! Pretty bird! Pretty bird!”
“You are a pretty bird, Hank,” Brittany said. “And a smart one, too.”
Nate rolled his eyes. He took a dried banana chip out of a paper bag near the cage and gave it to Hank through the bars. “He’s too smart. My dad thought it was hysterical to teach him how to swear. A lot. I have to keep teaching him new stuff to keep him from cussing out customers.”
Nate was in his usual uniform today. A plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into his usual jeans, with sturdy leather hiking boots. Practical. She’d come to realize it suited him. His chestnut hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his fingers through it.
“Did you break any more heels on your way here?” He was teasing. Amused by her as usual.
She shook her head. “I don’t make a habit of that, so if you’re thinking of relying on cobbling as a second career, you’ll be disappointed.” She stuck one leg out and turned it to show him her more practical footwear—sturdy, low-heeled leather pumps.
“Speaking of careers...” He was still smiling, but there was caution in his eyes.
“Yes, I know. I’m here for business today. But first, we need to settle up...” Her eyes widened. “Hey, you haven’t even asked me about Joey. For all you know, I kicked him out into the dark after you left last night.”
Nate smirked. “It’s far more likely he spent the night on the sofa. Or perhaps in bed with you?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. She’d woken that morning to find Joey sprawled out on the other side of the bed, taking up an amazing amount of space and snoring. Loudly.
“Here’s your tab, Brittany.” He handed her a handwritten sales slip. “No hurry. It’s not like I don’t know where you live at the moment.” He leaned against Hank’s cage. “And now for your business. Tell me about this friend-slash-client of yours.”
This was the part of her job she hated. Or hated the most. Her brows gathered. Lately, it had been hard to think of what she liked about it, other than the really big paychecks. Which paid for Ellie’s insulin and tuition. Those paychecks were Brittany’s security. And if the job pushed her into some...murky...moral territory, that was just the price she had to pay. Including telling half-truths to a guy she was starting to like.
“I do a lot of high-end real-estate deals,” she said. “And when you deal with rich folks, things get weird.” She shrugged. She’d learned long ago to keep the lie as close to the truth as possible. It made it less complicated. “The rich really are different. And demanding. And secretive.” No lies there. “Sometimes they don’t want me to know why they want what they want. This is one of those times.” Okay, that was a lie. She glanced away, watching Hank chew on a hunk of white stuff mounted to the cage bars. It seemed to be made for that purpose, since it was covered with deep grooves from his beak. “This is one of those clients. He sent me to Gallant Lake and told me to quietly find a small business on the water.” Or all of the small businesses on the water.
Nate stared at her in silence. She’d negotiated with a lot of tough customers over the years, but he had a way of making her feel like squirming. Without saying a word. She took a deep, steadying breath.
“So yes, I am talking to your neighbors on Main Street. And now I’m talking to you...”
He straightened with a soft laugh. “Save your breath, Brittany. This place is not for sale. My great-great-grandfather started selling nails and screws in this spot in the 1800s. There’s not an offer in the world that would get me to sell.”
She looked around the empty store. “Because it’s making you so much money?”
“There’s more to life than money. Your rich clients may not know that, but I do.” More to life than money? It was a noble statement, but she knew the truth. Without money, there was no life. She’d learned that at a very early age.
She put her hand on her hip, reminding herself she needed to win this guy over and convince him to sell. How could she find the right button to push?
“So this store...this very quiet store...is your passion?”
A flicker of doubt crossed his face. A-ha. She’d found his soft spot on the first try.
“That’s a no. What is your passion?”
He crossed his arms. “That was not a no. My passion, as you call it, is preserving history. I preserve it here at the store that’s been in my family for five generations, and I preserve it in this town. In fact, I’m president of the Gallant Lake Preservation Society. We took the Gallant Lake Resort to court when Blake Randall threatened to make it into a casino. In fact, we took him to court when he wanted to raze a historic home next to the resort. And we won.” His voice had grown harder as he spoke. “So you might want to let your client know that.”
Damn. She’d run into community organizers before, but she hadn’t anticipated that Nate might be the enemy. She kept her calm, friendly smile in place.
“Impressive. The town is lucky to have you, Nate. But community service can’t be your only passion. What do you love doing?” She stepped closer. “And I mean doing, not the esoteric ‘fighting for’ stuff.”
The bell at the door chimed as a couple walked in. Hank ruffled his feathers, whistled once, then greeted them.
“Hi! Hello! Hell-o-o! Hello!”
Brittany stepped back to let Nate greet his customers. They said they were there for the lights they’d bought. Nate picked up a large box near the door, and she could see what looked like the top of a large brass chandelier. She looked around the store, wondering where his lighting department was. She saw light bulbs, but that was it.
The man pulled a smaller sconce out of the box and they admired a label on the back of it. Nate had an energy to his voice that was brand-new to her.
“After our email conversation,” Nate said, “I did some more digging amd found this smaller pair in the company’s 1926 catalog. That tracks, because the old house I salvaged them from was built in ’26.” His face fell. “I wish I could have pulled more from there before they tore it down.” He patted the sconce in his hand as if it were a living thing. “But knowing these babies will have a good home makes me feel better.”
The couple gushed over the lights, telling Nate they were restoring a historic home in Lake George and the lights would be going in the dining room and hallway. He asked questions about their home’s history, his eyes bright with interest. They were talking crown moldings and heart pine floors and original windows and then she lost interest in the words. She was just watching Nate.
He was animated. Energized. She’d thought he was so laid-back, but seeing him now... He seemed lit up from the inside. His hands were gesturing; his smile was bright. He thanked them for following his website, and the couple asked him to be on the lookout for a mantel clock. Brittany smiled. She’d found his passion. Nate had a second business selling antiques. And he liked doing it. Maybe she could convince him to do it full-time and let the hardware store go.
