From Temptation to Twins

by Barbara Dunlop

  Jules found the view of him equally pleasant from the front. She didn’t have to like him to admire the breadth of his shoulders, the swing of his stride, and the square chin and neatly trimmed dark hair that made him look capable of taking on...well, anything, including her.

  A wave of heat passed through her body and sweat tickled her forehead. She swiped awkwardly at her hairline with her bare forearm as he walked back inside.

  He looked around the open space. “What else needs doing?”

  “Your work is done,” Jules said.

  He might be pleasant to watch, but she was coming to the conclusion that it might be dangerous for her to spend much time around him.

  He removed his jacket and set it aside, rolling up his sleeves.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” she said. “You’re going to ruin that shirt.”

  He shrugged. “I have other shirts.”

  “It’s white.”

  He glanced down at himself. “So it is.”

  “Say whatever it is you came to say, and get out of here. Go back to your regularly scheduled life.”

  He put a mock expression of hurt on his face. “I don’t know how to take that.”

  “Yes, you do. You’ve got your own construction project to worry about.”

  “That’s the thing.”

  “Here we go...” She lined up to scrape off another strip of varnish.

  “I want to show you some of the numbers from my other Neo locations.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him look into their small toolbox. “Showing off your profits?” she asked.

  He ignored her gibe. “And the plans for the new location.” He selected a claw hammer. “What’s your seating going to be here?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Jules.” There was exaggerated patience in his tone. “We’re not going to be able to work this out if you’re going to be hostile.”

  Melissa spoke up. “Thirty-four at the tables, twelve at the bar and another eighteen on the deck.”

  Jules glared at her.

  “What?” Melissa asked. “It’s not exactly a state secret. All he has to do is pull a copy of the business license.”

  “Neo will have one-seventy-two on two floors, plus fifty seasonally on the patio. We’re not your competition.” He approached the window opposite Melissa and wedged the hammer under the trim.

  “I agree with that,” Jules said. “It would be no contest at all.”

  “Why would anyone choose the Crab Shack?” Melissa asked.

  “They wouldn’t,” Jules said.

  “Because they love seafood. And because nobody wants to eat at the same place all the time. And because if they came to Neo, they’d see the Crab Shack and maybe become curious.”

  “Or maybe they’d come to the Crab Shack and learn about Neo.” Jules didn’t know why she tossed that out. It sounded ridiculous even to her.

  “Sure,” Caleb said.

  “Don’t patronize me. We both know that’s not going to happen. What you’re offering us is your leftovers.”

  “Neo is a nationally recognized chain with international awards and a substantial marketing program. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

  “Fancy it up all you want, but the result will be the same. Neo wins, the Crab Shack loses. We’re far better off being the only option at Whiskey Bay.”

  “Can I at least show you my floor plans?”

  “Sure,” Melissa said.

  “Melissa.”

  “What’s the harm in looking, Jules? Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

  Jules was, but there was no way she’d admit it. “Go ahead and look if you want. I’m not interested.”

  “I’ll bring them by later on,” Caleb said as he ripped down a long strip of window trim.

  “He is not changing our minds.” Jules put complete conviction into her tone, even as she struggled to drag her gaze from Caleb.

  * * *

  Due to the curve of the shoreline, Caleb could see the Neo construction site through the window of his great room. He could also see the Crab Shack, where lights were on tonight. And he could see the Parkers’ house—all dark there.

  “Jules wouldn’t even look at the plans,” he said turning back to his lawyer, Bernard Stackhouse.

  “What did you expect?” Bernard asked in an even tone.

  “I thought she might look. I hoped she’d look. I hoped she’d see reason and stop being so stubborn.”

  “And then do things your way?”

  Bernard was sitting in one of Caleb’s leather armchairs. His suit was impeccable as always, and he looked distinguished with a touch of gray at his temples. He could flare into passion in a courtroom when the need arose, but Caleb knew it was an act. He wasn’t sure Bernard even felt emotions. But the man wasn’t shy about using sarcasm.

  “I absolutely want her to do things my way.”

  His way was the closest they could get to a win-win. But Jules wouldn’t take that. She wouldn’t even consider it. She insisted on going for a win-lose.

  “Her sister, Melissa, seems a whole lot more reasonable,” he said.

  “Can she change Jules’s mind?”

  “I’m not sure she’s trying. But she did like my restaurant plans.” Caleb’s gaze was drawn back to the still, silent darkness of his construction site.

  He could picture the finished building in his mind, the exterior, the interior, all the people they’d employ and the happy diners enjoying the picturesque waterfront. He was growing more and more impatient to get there. Every day he had to wait he couldn’t help calculating the cost: the leased equipment, the crew on standby, the delay in opening that was going to cost him money. If this had to end in a win-lose, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t him on the crappy end of the deal.

  “I did find an interesting new option,” Bernard said.

  Caleb turned. “And you’re just speaking up now?”

  “I thought you wanted to vent.”

  “I did want to vent. But I want a solution a whole lot more.”

  “Why don’t you sit down?” Bernard asked.

  “Exactly what kind of an option is it?” Was it so shocking that Caleb couldn’t be trusted to keep his feet?

  “My neck’s getting sore from looking up at you. Sit down.”

  Caleb thought better on his feet. But he was curious enough to go along. He perched on the arm of the sofa.

  “You look like a coiled spring,” Bernard said.

  “You drawing this out won’t make me less coiled.”

  “This isn’t a five-second explanation.”

  “I hope not, because you’ve already used up two minutes in the preamble.”

  Bernard smiled. “You’re a lot like your father.”

  “You’re just going to pile it on, aren’t you?”

  “There’s an easement,” Bernard said.

  Caleb heard the side door to his house swing open. He knew it would either be Matt or TJ.

  “In here,” he called out.

  “Do you want me to wait until we’re alone?” Bernard asked.

  “Why would I want that? Is it a secret option? Is it illegal?”

  “Is what illegal?” Matt asked as he strolled into the room.

  “Yes,” Bernard drawled. “As your lawyer, I feel it’s my duty to advise you to break the law.”

  “That’s a first,” Matt said, taking another armchair. “What are we drinking?”

  “I’m considering tequila,” Caleb said.

  Matt rose again and headed for the bar.

  “Keep talking,” Caleb prompted Bernard.

  Bernard exhaled an exaggerated sigh of impatience, like he was the o
ne who’d been kept waiting.

  “There’s an easement,” he repeated, producing a map from his briefcase and unfolding it on the coffee table between them. “The access road for the Crab Shack crosses your land.” He pointed. “Right here.”

  “You mean TJ’s land.”

  “No. All four residential lots were originally a single parcel. TJ’s, Matt’s and the Parkers’ lots were carved out at minimum size, and the remainder stayed with the parcel your grandfather purchased. The effect is a peninsula of land owned by you that runs in front of each of the other properties. Nobody pays attention to it, because it’s mostly the sheer face of a cliff. That is, except for the access road.”

  Caleb leaned forward to study the map lines.

  Matt returned with three glasses of tequila.

  “I thought you’d know I was joking,” Caleb said to Matt. He’d expected Matt to open a few beers.

  “Too late now.”

  Caleb wasn’t a big tequila fan, but he accepted the glass anyway.

  If he was reading the map correctly, where the Crab Shack driveway branched off the access road, it crossed his land for about two hundred yards.

  “On one side of the driveway is a cliff,” Bernard said.

  Matt crouched on one knee. “And the other is too close to the high water mark. It’s vulnerable to tidal surges if there’s a storm.”

  “Is it possible for her to reroute along the shore?” Caleb asked.

  “I talked to an engineer,” Bernard said. “In effect, she’d have to build a bridge.”

  “They’re on a budget.”

  “Then, there’s your answer.”

  Matt gave a whistle. “That’s playin’ hardball.”

  “I’m losing ten thousand a day in idle equipment rental.”

  “So, you’d bankrupt her?”

  “I’d use it for leverage.” Caleb straightened to contemplate.

  He’d already tried the carrot. Maybe it was time for the stick. He’d show Jules that if they didn’t work together, it would mean mutual assured annihilation. Surely she couldn’t be so stubborn as to choose that option.

  Caleb’s front door opened again, and TJ strode in from the hall. “We ready to go?” There was an eagerness in his tone.

  The three men had agreed to hit a club in Olympia tonight. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now Caleb was regretting the commitment. He’d rather stay home. He didn’t plan to confront Jules with the threat of canceling her easement tonight, but he wasn’t in the mood for dancing and inconsequential conversation with random women either.

  “Is that an ambulance?” TJ asked, gazing out the window.

  Caleb turned as he stood, immediately seeing the flashing lights closing in on the Crab Shack.

  “That’s not good,” Matt said, rising to his feet.

  Caleb was already heading for the door, with Matt and TJ at his heels.

  The fastest way to the Crab Shack was along the footpath. Caleb broke into a run. He knew every inch of the pathway, and it took him less than five minutes to get to the peninsula, his mind going over all the possible scenarios where Jules might have been hurt. Had she fallen off the ladder? Had she burned herself with the paint stripper?

  Matt stuck with him, with TJ falling a bit behind. Caleb had no idea whether or not Bernard had even bothered to come along. As he ran up the gravel driveway, he could see the paramedics moving a stretcher. He put on a burst of speed.

  Then he saw Jules under the lights. She wasn’t the one on the stretcher. He felt an immense surge of relief. But then his fear was back. If it wasn’t Jules, it must be Melissa.

  He finally got close enough to call out.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Jules looked over at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “We saw the ambulance lights,” he said through the gasps of his breath. “What happened?”

  “Nail gun,” Melissa said from the stretcher, her voice sounding strained.

  Caleb was relieved to hear her speak. But then her words registered.

  “You were using a nail gun?” He moved his attention to Jules. “You have a nail gun?”

  “I don’t have a nail gun. Noah has a nail gun.”

  “Where’s Noah?” Caleb wanted to have a word with the man. What was he thinking letting Jules and Melissa use a nail gun? Was he crazy?

  “It was my fault,” Melissa called from inside the ambulance.

  “Are you coming with us?” the paramedic asked Jules.

  “Yes.” She moved for the door.

  “I’ll meet you there,” Caleb said.

  “Why?” she asked as she stepped up to climb inside.

  “Just go.”

  “Melissa seemed pretty good,” Matt said.

  TJ arrived, panting.

  “You need to hit the gym,” Matt told him.

  “No kidding,” TJ said. “Who got hurt?”

  “Melissa,” Caleb said. “Something about a nail gun.”

  TJ gave him an incredulous look. “Is it bad?”

  “She was talking from the stretcher. But I’m going to head down to Memorial and find out what happened.”

  “You are?” TJ seemed surprised.

  Caleb thought it was a perfectly reasonable course of action. The women were their neighbors, and Jules might need something. At the very least, she’d need a ride back home.

  “White knight syndrome,” Matt said.

  “Who’s he rescuing?” TJ asked.

  “Good question.” TJ raised a brow at Caleb. “The rational one or the difficult one?”

  The difficult one. “Neither.”

  Caleb was simply being neighborly...and practical. He was being neighborly and practical. There was nothing remotely unusual about that.

  Three

  Jules couldn’t decide whether to sit down and wait patiently for news or to pace the hospital waiting room floor and worry. Melissa had seemed okay in the ambulance, in surprisingly good spirits considering she had a large nail protruding through the middle of her left hand. Jules had assumed her sister couldn’t have been too badly hurt if she was awake and joking. But she might have been in shock. She could quite easily have been in shock.

  Opting for pacing, Jules walked the hall then turned at the narrow, vinyl sofa and walked back toward the vending machines. If Melissa was in shock, then the pain might not have been registering. She could be really hurt. The hospital staff had certainly taken the injury seriously, whisking her off to a trauma room. Jules had tried to follow, but the nurse had urged her to stay out of the way and let the medical staff do their work.

  When Jules turned again, she saw Caleb at the end of the hallway walking swiftly toward her. He looked tall, broad-shouldered and capable, and she felt an inexplicable sense of relief at the sight of him. As soon as the feeling registered, she banished it. It was embarrassing to react that way. He wasn’t a medical professional. He wasn’t a friend. He wasn’t a significant person in either her or Melissa’s life. There was no reason his presence should be comforting, none at all.

  “Is Melissa all right?” he asked as he approached, concern clear in his tone.

  She felt an inexcusable urge to walk straight into his arms. She wouldn’t do it, of course, but a little part of her couldn’t help wondering how he’d react if she did.

  “They’ve taken her into surgery.”

  He frowned as he came to a halt. “That sounds concerning.”

  “They told me it was a precaution.”

  His intense look of interest prompted her to continue.

  “There’s a hand specialist in the hospital tonight, and he wants to be sure they don’t damage any nerves or tendons taking out the nail. At least that’s what
they said.” She had to fight the urge to lean on him again. “You don’t think they’d downplay it, do you?”

  “Are you worried?” he asked, moving slightly closer.

  She wished he’d keep his distance. It was easier to resist him that way.

  “No. I can’t decide. Should I be worried? The truth is I’m worried that I’m not worried. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was still talking when we arrived. I thought that was a good sign. But now I’m thinking she might have been in shock.”

  “I suppose that’s possible.” He looked thoughtful.

  “You could have just said it was a good sign.”

  He gave a slight smile. “I think it was a good sign.”

  “Too late.”

  “I suppose.” He paused. “But it was probably a good sign.”

  “Noble effort.”

  “I don’t see why they’d downplay it for you. They’d want you to be prepared for any bad news.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you that one.” Jules relaxed a little. She moved and sat down on a padded chair.

  Caleb followed, taking a chair across from her. They were both silent for a few moments.

  It was Caleb who broke it. “Do you know what was she doing with the nail gun?”

  “She was showing me how it worked. Noah had shown her earlier. And, well, it went off. We didn’t expect that.”

  An expression of annoyance crossed Caleb’s face. “Noah showed her how to use a nail gun?”

  “It’s not Noah’s fault.”

  “What was he thinking?”

  “That she asked a question and he answered it.”

  “I don’t mean to sound sexist—”

  Jules felt her spine stiffen. “But you’re about to.”

  “I guess I am. Are you sure that the two of you should be undertaking a construction project?”

  “We’re not undertaking a construction project. We’re helping with a construction project. Noah has been great about showing us what to do and how to do it.”

  Caleb frowned again. “He didn’t do so well with the nail gun.”

  “Ms. Parker?” A nurse interrupted.

  Jules immediately switched her attention. “You have news?” She came to her feet.