by Lin Stepp
Jack winced as Roger let himself in the back door. Roger had every right to care about the business. He was a partner, after all. His specialty was architecture, but he held a real estate license, too. Like Jack, he’d worked in the family business since he was a kid—sweeping up, putting out or taking down signs, running errands, and, eventually, selling property. When they were younger, Jack and Roger had been a bit of a handful. Even into their young adult years. But then Roger met Samantha, when she’d moved here to teach kindergarten at the elementary school in Townsend. And Jack had watched Roger change.
Those years afterward had been bittersweet ones. Jack had thought he and Roger would always be bachelors together, both nearly in their forties when Roger fell for Samantha. Jack tried, at first, not to like Sam because she ’d broken up their bond. But he couldn’t hold out for long against Samantha Morrow’s comfortable goodness. Over time, as he watched Roger and Samantha marry and find happiness, he began to think he might like to find the same. Instead, he’d gotten involved with Celine Rosen. It was probably because he’d subconsciously wanted to fall in love and settle down that he’d been so taken in by Celine. Jack shook his head. Marriage was never a place he wanted to go again. It was entirely too painful.
He stood up then, resolved to action. It was time to pay his respects to Grace Conley. He might have played the field hard and fast in the years since Celine had left, but he knew how to behave himself when he needed to. He could handle the widow Conley.
His mind made up, Jack strode across the parking lot, crossed the road to cut between two big maples on the inn’s property line, and started across the driveway toward Grace. The sound of his footsteps on the drive caused her to turn and watch him walk toward her across the yard.
God, she was so beautiful, thought Jack. She still impacted him like a punch in the breadbasket. She was incredible. The skirt she wore was a soft fuchsia pink, floating around her calves. She had on a simple white T-shirt with it and some sort of white slip-on sandals. Her legs were bare today, her toenails painted a glittery shell pink to match her lipstick. Jack studied her mouth as he came closer, her lips full and lush. Inviting. Jack well remembered how they tasted and how Grace’s body had felt on top of his. He shook his head a little to try to clear his thoughts.
“I thought I saw you out in the yard,” he said, trying to sound casual.
“I was deadheading the flowers.” She opened her hand to reveal the dead flowers she’d clipped from a clump of coral and white periwinkles.
Jack looked around. “The place looks nice.”
“Thank you.”
She wasn’t making this easier. “Look, I thought I should stop by for a few minutes to talk since my girls are spending so much time over here.”
“Of course.” She smiled graciously. “Would you like to come up on the porch and have a cup of coffee? I can run in and get some. It seems too nice a day not to be outside while it’s so pleasant.”
“Yeah, that would be good.”
Jack followed her up the steps, trying not to focus on the sway of her full hips underneath her skirt as she walked. He wondered if she knew what an incredibly sexual appeal she put out. Perhaps her husband had been smart to keep her close to home.
“I’ll be right back,” she told him, letting herself in the front door.
Jack had time to regain his composure and settle himself into one of the newly upholstered wicker chairs before she returned. She carried a wooden tray, and Jack stood up immediately to help her with the door as she negotiated her way onto the porch with it. The tray held a cruet of coffee, two colorful mugs, and a plate of small muffins. Hustling around her feet wiggled two small corgis who made a dash for the yard as Jack shut the door.
Grace, catching a glimpse of them out of the corner of her eye, set the tray down and clapped her hands twice. “Sadie and Dooley, you two get back up here right this minute.”
The two small dogs turned and obediently came up the porch steps.
She gave them a stern look. “Did you ask me if you could go out in the yard?”
They hung their heads like chastised children.
“Well, then, you’ll have to wait for a while before you can go out in the yard again. Besides, you know I don’t like you to be in the front yard, anyway. The highway is too near.”
She seemed to remember Jack was there then.
“We have a guest,” she told the dogs. “Go and say hello and then go lie down.”
The dogs dutifully came over to sit in front of Jack and offer him a paw.
Grace looked at Jack pointedly. “They want to shake hands with you if it’s all right. That’s how they greet guests.”
“Oh. Sure.” Jack shook each paw in turn and marveled to see the small dogs then go over to lie down on the porch right where Grace had indicated.
Jack watched them, impressed. “They’re very well-behaved little dogs.”
“They were better behaved. It’s been a challenge teaching them so many new rules in a new setting since we moved here. We’re still working on it.” She leaned over to scratch the dogs’ ears affectionately and gave each a small treat from out of her skirt pocket.
Then she poured out two cups of hot coffee. “I’ll let you fix your coffee the way you like it.” She gestured to packets of sugar and a small pot of cream on the tray.
Jack fixed his coffee and then watched her stir cream and a half packet of sweetener into her own cup. He noticed she still wore her wedding ring, along with a milky opal on her second finger beside it. There was a bluish opal on her other hand and a ring circled with diamonds on her ring finger. Jack remembered her opals from before. He saw two more tucked into her pierced ears.
“Born in October?” he asked, making an effort at conversation.
She looked surprised at his question and then smiled as she saw his eyes studying her hands.
He sent an easy smile back at her and propped his feet up on a stool. “I remembered that opals are the birthstone for October.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “Yes, and I’m fond of them. And you are right about my birthday being in October; it’s October the sixth. Although I think I won’t mention the year I was born or what age I’ll be this fall.” A touch of a dimple winked in her cheek.
“You have dimples.” He tapped his cheek as he spoke.
“Not like yours and the girls’.” She seemed to study him then before she took a bite from one of the muffins. “Your girls are so charming, Jack. You’ve done a beautiful job in raising them.”
Jack was taken aback at her comment. Most women didn’t even want to talk about his children. In fact, they usually avoided the subject.
Grace crossed her legs gracefully, flipping her foot up and down rhythmically as she talked. Jack tried hard not to let his eyes follow the movement. Her bare foot and leg were tantalizing.
“Meredith and Morgan have both been so gracious to me since I moved in. They come and help me with chores nearly every day. And they’re lovely to my guests. Actually, I’m so glad you’ve stopped by. I’ve wanted to ask you if it would be all right if I pay them a little something for their work here at the inn—or if I buy them a gift. Of course, I could have asked Aunt Bebe. But it seemed more appropriate to ask you. You are their father.”
She looked up at him with those silvery blue-green eyes, and Jack found himself speechless—like a love-struck adolescent. Not the norm for him.
Not seeming to notice, she put a couple of muffins onto a small plate and passed them over to him. “These are blueberry. I made them this morning. I didn’t have guests today at the inn, but Vincent so looks forward to my muffins.”
She lifted a shoulder. “And the girls like to spread them with honey for an afternoon snack.”
Jack bit into a muffin and realized they were homemade and still hot. The taste of warm blueberries and sweet muffin filled his mouth. No wonder Vincent Westbrooke wandered by every morning.
Grace pushed her hair back behind her
ear with one hand, and Jack found himself wishing he could have done it. She was a true blond, and her hair had a soft, silky quality to it. It fell just below her shoulders, and Jack could tell a professional had cut it to layer softly around her face.
Leaning over to pour more coffee, he caught the floral notes of Grace’s scent again. Without thinking, he asked, “What’s the name of that cologne you’re wearing?”
“It’s perfume, not cologne. Called Pleasures. It was always Charles’s favorite.” Her expression darkened then, and she sighed.
“Was Charles your husband?”
She smiled. “Yes. We were married for almost thirty years. I still have wistful moments now and then, of course—when memories come back.” She looked at Jack. “Perhaps you do, too. The girls told me they lost their mother when they were only babies.”
Jack scowled. “I have no wistful moments about the girls’ mother, Miz Conley.” His voice sounded overly harsh, even to him. “She walked out on me when the girls were infants. Left me a Dear John note to find in the morning. She discovered the reality of motherhood and being a wife unappealing.”
He looked out into the mimosas, remembering for a minute the pain of that day. The shock and the hurt of rejection.
A hand reached over to wrap itself softly around his. “I’m sorry, Jack. That must have been very hard.”
He looked up to find her watching him.
She traced a finger idly over his hand. He doubted she was even aware she did it. “Being hurt like that might make some men angry at women.”
Not comfortable with her probing, he grinned roguishly and changed the focus of their discussion. “Well, as you know, Grace Conley, I’m quite fond of women.”
She flushed and withdrew her hand carefully from his. “Maybe. And maybe not, Jack Teague.”
A quiet silence fell, and Jack could hear the bees humming around the morning glories still in bloom beside the porch.
“Listen. About the girls.” He spoke at last. “You don’t need to pay them to be helpful. It’s good for the character to do things without always expecting a reward.”
“You have a point.” She smiled. “But would a gift of thanks be all right?”
“Perhaps.” Jack considered the idea. “However, I think the fact that you’re taking on the girls’ Scout troop is gift enough. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“I know. I wanted to. No one twisted my arm, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Jack ate the last of the little muffins, trying to resist licking his fingers, and drank another sip of his coffee. It felt nice sitting out here on the porch with Grace Conley. He wondered now why he had put off coming over here for so long.
The little tan and white dogs slept quietly under Grace’s feet, snoring softly. They hadn’t even begged for the muffins Grace had brought out.
“There’s another thing I needed to mention to you.” Jack turned to look at Grace. “We have a troubled man around the area who likes to spy on people and leave messages about.”
“A Peeping Tom?”
“Maybe. We’re not really sure. Our sheriff here in Townsend, Swofford Walker, has only documented two potential sightings of the man. And neither were conclusive.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“About a year now.” Jack stretched out one of his legs on the porch. The movement woke the dogs.
Jack leaned over to pat them before he continued. “What the man usually does is leave odd little signs, like warnings or judgments. His notes say things like: I saw you… . or … Be careful . The longest one I remember hearing about said: Surely your sins will find you out.”
“What does he write these messages on?”
“Note cards. Tear outs from magazines. Postcards. Even on playing cards.”
She sat forward thoughtfully. “Ahhh. I might have gotten one.”
“What?” Jack sat up straight to look at Grace directly then. His sharp voice unsettled the dogs, who looked up at him anxiously.
Grace stood up. “Come in the house, and I’ll show you. I put it in the drawer in the entry table. I had no idea what it was. I almost threw it away.”
The small dogs followed them in and headed for the kitchen.
At the entry table, Grace opened a narrow drawer and pulled out a playing card—much like the one Jack had found on the seat of his Jeep.
She laid the jack of hearts card in Jack’s hand. “It says Watch Out on it.” She pointed to the words, scrawled across the card in black ink.
Jack took a deep breath. “When did you find this, Grace?”
“I found it right after I first moved in last month. It was in the mailbox, mixed in with the day’s mail. I thought it might have been a prank by one of the children in the area.” She frowned. “I don’t like to remember some of the pranks my own children perpetrated. Especially the boys.”
“You’ll need to tell the sheriff about this, Grace. Even though it happened several weeks ago. Swofford is trying to keep a record of all the messages. Hoping to find a thread in them that will help him learn who’s doing this.”
She looked at Jack in some alarm. “Do you think this man is dangerous?”
He took her hand, enjoying having an excuse to touch her. “I don’t know. Right now his stunts are mostly bizarre. I wouldn’t let it worry you. But I would lock my doors at night. And tell the sheriff if you see or hear anything suspicious.”
Grace bit her lip. “Have you or the girls had messages from this man?”
“I have—twice. Usually, like yours, the messages don’t make much sense.”
“Oh, I think I know the meaning of my message.” She pulled her hand free of his and looked directly into his eyes. “At first I thought you sent it to me, Jack—as a little joke—telling me to watch out for you.”
Jack felt a rush of anger and frowned at her. “I may have flaws, Grace Conley, but I would never play a prank like that. If I had something to say to you, I’d come over here and say it face-to-face. I wouldn’t send crazy messages.”
She gave him a steady look as if assessing the truthfulness of his statement. “Is this who the girls are talking about when they speak of Crazy Man?”
He nodded. “It’s a tag he’s picked up. It seems to best describe the odd things he does. The fact that he may be mentally unstable is what worries everyone around here the most. With a person like that, you never know when his spying and annoying messages might turn into something more dangerous.”
“I’ll be watchful.” Grace tucked the card back into the drawer. “And I’ll call the sheriff. Do you know his number?”
“I’ll write it down for you.” He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and jotted down the number on the back with a pen he found on Grace’s entry table.
Jack glanced at his watch then. “I can’t stay until Swofford gets here. I have an appointment.”
Grace gave him a teasing smile. “It’s good to be on time for your appointments, Jack Teague. All sorts of trouble can happen when you’re not.”
Jack’s heartbeat quickened. She was flirting with him. He plucked up a butterscotch candy from the dish on the entry table, unwrapped it, and placed it slowly in his mouth. Jack watched Grace’s lips as he did so.
She licked her lips nervously, and Jack knew she remembered as vividly as he that day they’d met. “Some things are worth the trouble, Grace Conley.”
He turned to go. “You take care, now. It was good to see you again.”
Jack slipped out the door, kind of pleased he’d had the last word this time. As he tasted the burst of butterscotch from the candy on his tongue, he decided he wouldn’t wait so long before he came back to visit the next time, either. This situation with Grace Conley was proving to be more interesting than he’d expected.
CHAPTER 7
Grace had known that eventually she would see Jack Teague again. Like a silly schoolgirl, she had thought about it often enough. Wondered how she would act, how Jack
would act. Wondered if there would be any attraction again.
As the weeks went by, her days so busy with the inn, she thought she would think of Jack less. But being with his girls most every day kept him close in mind. She’d seen his dimples flash in the twins’ cheeks and recognized the sparkle of his chocolate eyes in theirs. As she grew closer to the girls, it became harder to hold a grudge against their father for the way they had met that first day. But that didn’t mean she didn’t still remember every detail of it.
Walking across the yard at last, Jack flashed her a smile, and Grace worked hard not to suck in her breath at its physical impact on her. Jack Teague was a devilishly handsome man. He made Grace have girlish feelings and yearnings she hadn’t felt for many years. Charlie was the last man who had impacted her like this, still able to give her goose bumps after almost thirty years of marriage. With Charlie gone now, she was hardly eager to start a relationship with a man at this time in her life. Especially a man like Jack Teague. He was a heartbreaker if she ever saw one. Plus Grace didn’t want her name linked with local names like Ashleigh Anne Layton, and a few others she had heard about, whom Jack had diddled with. No, she would have to be careful about Jack Teague.
Jack cocked an eyebrow at Grace as he stopped a few feet from her, giving her an easy greeting. He wore tan slacks that fitted his long legs neatly and a deep-brown dress shirt matching the rich brown of his eyes. He looked nice. Too nice. And he walked and moved, as she remembered, with a smooth, swaying gait. Confident. Easy. Sexy.
Grace shook herself for her thoughts while she told him, with a calm voice revealing none of her feelings, that she’d been deadheading the flowers. They chatted, and Grace invited him up on the porch for coffee.
She’d expected that eventually Jack would come to talk about the time his girls were spending with her. She hadn’t known Meredith and Morgan were his daughters the first day she met them in May. When she learned their last name later, and that Jack was their father, it had been a surprise. A shock actually. Somehow, she hadn’t pictured Jack as a father type. It caught her up. Made her realize she shouldn’t completely judge someone from only one meeting.
