So why were his palms slick with sweat and his mouth as dry as cotton?
Trent shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the garage. He pressed the disarm button on his remote, and the familiar chirp-chirp of his silver Audi A4 eased his mind. The flashing lights led him to the beauty he’d affectionately named Bertha.
He smiled as he ran his hand along the sexy curve of the front wheel well. “How ya doing, baby? You ready for this?” He slipped into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition, revving the engine. The sweet purr was music to his ears. “I don’t know what I’m getting myself into, but you’re going to take me there.”
He tuned the radio to his favorite driving station—True Country 98.4—and started the forty-five-minute trek to the house of doom.
* * *
“It’s just business.” Tina flipped the stations on her car stereo, trying to find some decent music. To find anything to take her mind off seeing Trent’s smoldering eyes again. The incessant chatter of radio talents and beer commercials grated on her nerves, so she jammed the preset buttons harder and harder, until one of them got stuck.
“Fantastic.” She tried to pry the button loose with her fingernail but nearly chipped yesterday’s manicure in the process.
“Great. Just superb. Forced to listen to the only country music station in Michigan.” As Garth Brooks belted “Shameless,” she sighed. “And it’s not even the new stuff.”
Tina despised country music. The only reason she’d programmed the damn station into her presets was Trent. He’d said his guilty pleasure was the pitiful, lonesome twang of the genre—in not so many words. She didn’t enjoy the music, but seeing Trent’s face light up when some sad, lonely cowboy crooned his favorite song had been well worth the audible torture. Sometimes he even sang along. He didn’t hit every note, but his smooth voice always seemed to melt her heart like a stick of butter.
Crap. What was she doing? She’d never been attached to any man. Not that she hadn’t had plenty of offers. She could bed almost any man she wanted with a simple smile, and she didn’t need relationships. Her life was perfect the way it was—great friends, an awesome job, plenty of sex. She certainly didn’t need love complicating things.
And she didn’t need Trent. He surely would’ve thrown a wrench into her plans for world domination—or at least dominion over Michigan. She laughed. She’d been accused of having delusions of grandeur a time or two, but who could blame a girl for being confident? Sure, she probably wouldn’t take over the world, but her aspirations were far from being reached. She didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up, but she’d be something big. Like Wonder Woman. And she definitely didn’t need a man getting in her way, telling her what to do.
She turned off Business 23 onto Depot Street. The frantic rush of the freeway subsided into a cozy quaintness as she rolled through the residential area. Victorian and Colonial homes with massive yards and hundred-year-old trees lined the street. She’d always considered herself a big-city girl, but something about the charm of this neighborhood drew her in.
The homes—some grand and some modest—resembled gingerbread houses, and she couldn’t help but think of the classic fairytale Hansel and Gretel. Even Tina could’ve been fooled into entering a witch’s home if it looked as charming as these.
She turned right and slowed to a crawl as she searched the homes for numbers. “One-thirty-six Acorn Street. Let’s see…there’s one-seventeen, so the house has to be on the right. One-twenty-two. One-twenty-four…” There wasn’t much left on the street. Hopefully she hadn’t written down the address wrong.
The road curved to the right and extended another fifty feet. The house numbers stopped at one-thirty. Letting out a frustrated grumble, Tina began a three-point-turn, but stopped when a small driveway came into view at the end of the road. She put the car in drive and slowly approached the clearing—if you could call it that. Two large willow trees stood on either side of the drive, their tendrils of branches blocking the house from view.
As she pulled through, the boughs scraped against her windows, creating a menacing sound like the claws of a monster scratching at the glass. She leaned forward, clutching the steering wheel, to get a better look. Though it was mid-morning, the property seemed dark. Ominous. Like eternal clouds had gathered above the manor, threatening to spill their tears at the slightest provocation.
“Jeez Louise.”
No sun reflected off the silver Audi in the driveway, but Trent’s car stood like a beacon of hope against the bleak, dismal property. Tina started to breathe a sigh of relief, until Trent got out of the car. Standing just over six feet tall, he looked like a god with his broad shoulders and chiseled features. He’d combed his hair into that messy-chic style that looked like he rolled out of bed that way but that probably took him half an hour to get every strand into perfect position.
She’d expected him to be in his lawyer suit, but the charcoal peacoat and dark jeans he wore suited him better. An onyx wool scarf peeked out of the neckline, and matching leather shoes completed the outfit. He looked drop-dead gorgeous. Just like she remembered him. She snapped her mouth shut to keep from drooling.
Of course, Trent would look good in a potato sack. Even better in nothing at all. Don’t go there, girl. It’s just business.
Seeing him again stirred up all the emotions she’d carefully tucked away—like she knew it would. The first worm started wriggling out of the can, but she shoved it back in. She had a job to do. That’s why she’d come. It didn’t matter who the client was.
Yeah, right.
* * *
Trent held his breath as Tina stepped out of her Mustang. One slender leg. Then the other. The three-inch heels on her brown boots didn’t upset the sway of her hips as she glided through the snow. Her chocolate trench coat skimmed her knees, revealing the sexy curve of her calves, and her thick, black hair bounced with each step, glistening from an inner light that brightened when she smiled.
Sultry, mulberry lips curved across teeth as white as the snow, and her emerald eyes seemed to sparkle as she stepped closer. Good lord, he was in trouble.
“Hi, Trent. I almost didn’t find the place. Your uncle sure liked his privacy, didn’t he?” She tucked a piece of hair behind a delicate ear and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He instinctively took a step back. “Thanks.” He cleared his voice. “I didn’t know him that well.”
“Oh, sorry.” She dropped her gaze to the ground and then blinked up at him.
Damn, she was beautiful. More so than he remembered. Not that he thought of her often. After the way she’d bruised his pride, he’d be damned if he’d give her another chance. A man could only take so much rejection.
But seeing her here…after all these months…he couldn’t help but feel the familiar spark igniting in his core. The frigid temperature of the air couldn’t stop the sweat from beading on his forehead or the heat from flushing his cheeks. But he wouldn’t let her get to him. He was her client and nothing more. That’s probably how she saw it, anyway.
Awkward silence hung between them as he tried to think of something to say. Trent was a straight shooter. Not big on small talk, he usually got right to the point. He hadn’t planned on his smooth demeanor being derailed by the beauty before him, and he stumbled over his words.
“I, um…about the house.” Get it together, man.
Tina straightened her spine, adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder, and flashed a nervous grin. “Right. The house. Let’s go take a look.”
He trodded two steps ahead on their way to the porch. He had to get control of himself. He’d sounded like a blubbering idiot instead of a professional. With his gaze fixed on the dreary sky, he plowed forward until he stepped on a patch of ice and his left foot slipped out from under him.
“Son of a bitch!” He stumbled, landing on his knee in the snow. “Goddammit!” The fall didn’t hurt as bad as the stifled giggle coming
from behind him. He must have looked like an ass.
“Are you okay?” Tina knelt by his side.
“Yeah. Fine.” He rose to his feet and brushed the wet mess from his jeans.
She giggled again. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.” As soon as the words left her lips, she covered her mouth with her pristinely manicured hand. “I mean…” She rubbed her arms as if to warm them. “How old is this house?”
“It was built in 1889.” He furrowed his brow. Cute? I nearly bust my ass on the ice and she says I’m cute? Puppies were cute. Sweet little girls holding kittens were cute. Grown men were not.
Tina grinned and pressed her lips together. She reached up to muss his hair as she trotted up the front stairs. “C’mon, slow poke. What are you waiting for?”
He smoothed his hair back into place and tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach. Tina acted playful like this with everyone. It was her nature, and he needed to remember that.
She turned around and smiled at him. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” He shook his head and climbed the steps.
Was Tina flirting with him or simply giving him a hard time? It was hard to tell with her. Her poised, carefree attitude had been what attracted him to her in the first place—aside from her silky, onyx hair, porcelain-perfect skin, and voluptuous curves. She merely had to flash that infectious smile his way, and every thought drained from his head along with the blood rushing to his groin.
“The porch is a mess.” Tina kicked the paint chips and pressed her toe against a rotten board. The snapping sound it made under her gentle pressure unnerved him. They could fall through with one wrong step.
“I’m sure the whole house is in bad shape. That’s why I want to target house flippers. You know, someone who’s looking for a fixer-upper.” He fished in his pocket for the key.
Tina went into professional mode in an instant. Her posture straightened and her head rose slightly, like she was a woman who knew she was good at her job. “How many bedrooms?”
He held her gaze. “I’m not sure.”
“Central heating?”
“I don’t know.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Have you even been inside?”
He toyed with the key in his hand. “I’ve been in the foyer. I saw the living room.” His ears warmed with embarrassment. Thank goodness she wasn’t there the first time he went inside. A confident woman like Tina would’ve laughed in his face when he ran out the door, and his chances of ever starting over with her would’ve crumbled to bits.
Not that he was thinking about starting anything with her. Not again. Where had that thought even come from?
Tina put a hand on her hip. “Well, I guess we’ll find out together.” She stepped aside and motioned for him to open the door.
When he put the key in the lock, the first drops of dread trickled through his system. As he turned it, cold hands of fear gripped his spine. What if he was wrong about the draft and the foundation? What if some sinister being really haunted the place? He could put her life in danger just by going inside.
Get a grip.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat and pushed the door open. It creaked on its hinges like the lid to Dracula’s casket. Stale darkness crept from the entrance, and Trent’s heart raced.
Tina peered inside and scrunched her nose. “It looks like a haunted house from a horror movie.”
He let out a nervous laugh. “Sure does.” Without crossing the threshold, he reached along the wall and flipped on the lights, jerking his hand back like he expected a monster to jump out and get them. Tina gave him a perplexed look, and he shook his head.
They stepped into the foyer, and Trent picked up the coat rack that had fallen over last time he was here. He turned it to the left. Then he scooted it to the right and pointed at it. “You. Stay put. I mean it.”
Tina gave him a curious look. “I don’t think you have to worry about it growing legs and walking away.”
He patted his hand on the wood. “You never know with these things. What do you think about the house?”
Tina turned to examine the doorjamb. “The structure appears sound.” She stomped on the floor. “Solid hardwood. This can easily be refinished. Is there wood throughout the whole house?” She stepped from the foyer, into the living room.
“Wait.” Trent called.
“What is it?” She spun in a circle, examining the walls, the windows, the furniture.
“Nothing.” He shook his head and shuffled to the living room. Of course it was nothing. Why the hell did he let this place get to him like this? He was making an ass of himself in front of the one woman whose opinion actually mattered to him. It shouldn’t have mattered, but, damn it, it did.
Tina ran a finger down the wood on the back of a chaise and blew the dust into the air. “The dreadful décor needs to go, but the inside is definitely in better shape than the outside. Clean it up, refinish the floors, repair the porch and give it a fresh coat of paint…it’s definitely salable. And livable. It just needs a little light.”
Trent cringed as she reached for the drapes. With the coat rack in his peripheral vision, he held his breath as she threw the curtains open. A cloud of dust puffed in the air, and Tina waved her arms frantically. “Ah!”
Was the ghost after her?
“Ahhh…ahhhh…”
What was happening? He could barely see through the haze of dust.
“AHHHH—CHOO!”
It was the loudest sneeze he had ever heard. So loud, she could’ve been a monster herself. Maybe it was the release of the irrational fear he’d let build up in his mind. Or maybe all the tension brewing between the two of them caused him to lose control, but he couldn’t help himself. He doubled over with laughter. “I’ve never heard a sound like that come out of such a dainty thing as you.”
Tina rubbed her nose and glared at him. “Oh, you think that’s funny, huh? You breathe in six pounds of dust and we’ll see what kind of sounds come out of you, mister.”
“It’s just…” He put his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his composure. He took a deep breath and stood upright. “I’m sorry. That was an impressive sneeze.”
Tina’s grimace lifted into a grin. “Hey, at least it only happened once this time. I usually sneeze four or five times in row.” She crinkled her nose and rubbed the tip.
“I’m glad you didn’t. You might have blown out the window. Anyway, bless you.”
“Thank you. Let’s see the rest of the house.”
“Let’s.” Trent chuckled and followed Tina into the kitchen as the cold fingers of dread finally released their grip on his spine. No ghost or goblin tried to stop her from opening the drapes. Just like nothing had tried to stop him a few days ago. This house wasn’t haunted. He’d merely let his imagination run rampant and psyched himself out. There’s nothing to worry about.
* * *
Tina examined the kitchen. The appliances were ancient, as expected, but those could easily be replaced. The musty stench could be remedied with a can of Lysol and a day or two with the windows open. The rest of the downstairs seemed in decent condition, so she ascended the steps to the second floor. A deep forest green rug ran the entire length of the hallway, and dust plumed around her boots as she stepped.
“Jeez. Did your uncle know about vacuum cleaners?”
“He was an old fart. He probably hadn’t been upstairs in years.”
Her breath caught at the sound of Trent’s voice behind her. He’d followed her up the stairs, so she shouldn’t have been startled by his close proximity. But being near him after all these months set her nerves on edge. Her body hummed when she was close to him, and that could only mean trouble. “True. That’s why a lot of older people sell their homes. They don’t use the upstairs anymore.”
She stepped into a bedroom decorated for a small child. The pink bunny wallpaper and rose-colored bedding suggested it was a girl’s room, and Tina’s chest tightened as an inkling of sadnes
s crept into her heart. What a strange feeling to have in such a cheerful room.
Trent moved to stand beside her, and her chest tightened even more. “I didn’t know he had kids,” he said. “I didn’t even know he was married.”
“That’s odd. A little creepy, actually.” Surely Jack would’ve talked about his wife and children. Brought them to the family gatherings. She moved into the hallway, and the sadness lifted.
“Tell me about it.” Trent followed her out of the room. “Who else do you think lived here?”
She shrugged. “He was your family. Maybe he adopted or was a foster parent or something.”
“If he was, I feel sorry for the kids. Uncle Jack was…scary.”
“How so?”
“He was really tall and rail thin. I always thought he’d make a good undertaker. He had a long face and a pointed nose. And he hunched over, like a lot of old people do. He always seemed mad, but not really mad…more like…wicked. Like the world had done him wrong and he wanted everyone else to suffer for it.”
She glanced into the other bedrooms, but their drab décor suggested no one had lived in them in a long time. “I guess he didn’t have to dress up for Halloween then.”
He curled his lip, shuddering as if the thought disgusted him. “He was frightening enough on his own. Ready for the third floor?”
She peered up the stairs. “As I’ll ever be.”
The top floor consisted of a short hallway with a single door. An oval mirror hung on the wall to the left, and a small table sat off to the right. She grabbed the doorknob, and the icy metal bit at her skin, sending a tingling shock up her arm.
“Ow!” She jerked her arm back and rubbed her palm. “Son of a bitch.”
“What happened?” Trent reached for her, but he let his arm drop to his side.
“The doorknob shocked me.” She rubbed her hand on her skirt.
“It was probably static. Look.” Trent grabbed it and tried to turn it. The knob wouldn’t budge. He jiggled it and leaned into the door. “Hmm…it’s locked.”
“Do you have a key?”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out the front door key. “This is the only one. I doubt it will fit.” He tried the lock, but the key was too big.
To Stop a Shadow Page 2
