by Francis Ray
“I don’t want to bother you,” he said, clearly anxious to leave.
“You’re not. Besides, I owe you for helping Ashton practice.” She smiled down at her son. If only his father were as attentive. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll get them for you.”
Without giving him a chance to reply, Gina went inside. As she passed a wicker plant stand by the back door, she placed the paperweight on the edge. Reaching her desk, she picked up a manila folder marked “Journey’s End” and gave it to Max. “I hope you find it useful.”
Max glanced around her office. It was bright and inviting with pictures of her children on the bookshelf, healthy plants, and a collection of childlike crayon drawings in wooden dollar-store frames. Through the open door on the other side of the room, he saw what he assumed was the den. The paneled room with black leather furniture looked gloomy. It was hard to believe the same woman lived in the house.
He nodded toward a crayon drawing of a couple sitting on a porch swing on the wall. “Ashton, is that one of your drawings you were telling me about?”
“Yes,” the little boy said proudly. “Grandpa and Grandma Malone like to sit on the porch swing at their house.”
“Open it,” Gina urged. “I admit to being a little anxious about what you’d think. My best friend, Celeste, is the interior designer.”
Max opened the folder. The first thing he saw was a wisteria arbor. His eyes briefly shut.
“What’s the matter?” Gina asked, her tone worried.
As he opened his eyes, his head lifted. “The arbor. I just remember that my late wife wanted one.”
Sympathy shone in her expressive brown eyes. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you sad.”
He shook his dark head. “On the contrary.”
Quickly he flipped through the folder. There were more pictures of flower gardens but also furniture placements, decorative accessories. This hadn’t been done lightly, and what was so amazing was that she hadn’t even known he’d drop by. There was more to Gina Rawlings than he had first thought.
“Thank you. This took effort and a lot of thought.”
Her tense shoulders relaxed. “At one time I wanted to own a B and B, but things didn’t work out.” She pulled Ashton in front of her.
Max wondered if the ex-husband was the reason. “How about helping me make mine as inviting and warm as you envisioned yours to be?”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I want to hire you to help bring these plans to fruition,” he told her, lifting the folder again.
“Would that mean we could play soccer some more?” Ashton asked.
“Ashton, you know better than to interrupt adults when they are talking,” Gina admonished.
“Sorry.” His head fell.
Turning him to her, she smiled down at him. “I know you were just excited. Why don’t you go tell Gabrielle to help you set the table for dinner.”
“She’ll yell—”
“Ashton,” Gina said firmly.
“Yes, ma’am.” The little boy faced Max. “I had fun. Thank you for playing with me.”
“So did I, Ashton,” he said, and meant it.
“Maybe, maybe you could come watch me play Saturday at the park . . . if you’re not too busy,” Ashton quickly tacked on.
Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw anger flash in Gina’s eyes. Definitely an absent father. “I can’t promise anything, but if I can make it, I will.”
“I hope you can,” Ashton said; then with the soccer ball under his arm he walked away.
Gina waited until Ashton was out of sight. “Thank you for taking time with him.”
“He’s a good kid.” And hungry for a man in his life, Max thought.
“He is.” Gina stared fondly after her son.
“I could really use your help,” Max said.
She faced him. “As I said earlier, my best friend, Celeste, is the interior designer. She was with me Sunday.”
“Which one of you did this room?” Max asked.
Gina looked startled. “I did.”
“That’s what I thought.” He lifted the folder. “I’ll make you a trade. You help me in my business and I’ll help you in any way I can with yours, plus I’ll pay you.”
“Pay me?” Gina echoed.
“Of course. I’d be taking you away from your business. It’s only right that you should be compensated.” Max had another sneaky suspicion that, besides not being around, her ex wasn’t helping out financially as much as he should. The woman who took pride in her office would take pride in the outside as well.
“Could you help me with my Web site?” she asked, her brown eyes anxious. “I looked up yours and liked it.”
She certainly didn’t ask for much. “I could. I designed mine.”
“The pictures of the house were beautiful, but. . . .”
“But what?” he asked, a bit anxious.
Gina thought of all the times she’d suggested changes in the house to Robert, but he’d disliked every one. Perhaps Max wouldn’t like any of her suggestions.
“Gina, your children are waiting, and I have to get back to the inn,” Max prompted.
She recalled Ashton’s happy laughter earlier with Max and took a small leap of faith. “You have too much furniture in the rooms, causing them to look crowded and uninviting.”
He frowned. Gina held her breath. “My aunt and I thought people would enjoy the antiques, the feel of stepping back in time. Besides, the bedroom furnishings were sold as sets.”
Gina couldn’t believe he was actually listening. She forgot to be afraid. “But you didn’t have to put it all in the same room. Perhaps the pieces could function in another part of the house or be stored. Even in the largest bedroom there was hardly room to move around. If you added other amenities, you’d increase people’s desire to stay there.”
“Add? Like what?” he questioned.
“A small refrigerator,” she said softly, then rushed on. “It would be just another touch that set Journey’s End apart. A good carpenter could build a cabinet around it so it wouldn’t distract from the look of the room.”
“You’re amazing.”
Gina blinked. She’d been called a lot of things in her life but nothing close to amazing, and certainly not by a man.
“Mama, make Ashton stop.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
Gina’s buoyant mood didn’t plummet as far as usual. An amazing woman could handle her children.
“Mama,” Gabrielle wailed.
“I’ll let you go. Can I call you later, and we’ll discuss this more?” Max asked.
“Yes,” Gina said. There was no telling what Gabrielle and Ashton were doing.
“Good.” Max smiled. Gina wanted to smile back. He was certainly a handsome man and easy to talk to. “Good-bye. I’ll go out the way I came in.”
Gina didn’t try to dissuade him. The moment she closed the back door she headed for the kitchen. It was a good thing she loved her children.
“Looking good.”
Alec straightened, knowing he’d see his brother Patrick. He schooled his expression. “Hey, man.”
“Hey yourself.” Patrick caught the extended hand, clapped his brother on the back.
“You playing hooky?” Alec asked. To be able to help Brianna and her father in their law practice, Patrick was working on a paralegal degree at the local college.
“Finished for the day.” He squatted in front of one of the erected posts beside Alec. “I could help after class.”
That was what Alec had been afraid of. “This is my wedding present, but thanks. Besides, aren’t you already helping Brianna and her father out?”
“Yeah. She’s some kind of lawyer.” Patrick frowned. “But she gets busy at times and forgets to rest and eat properly. She works hard.”
“And you’re there to make sure she takes care of herself,” Alec said.
Patrick chuckled. “She says I’m worse than her mother. Although th
e trip to the emergency room a couple of months back proved to be nothing, I still worry about her and the baby.”
Alec slapped his brother on the back and tried not to think of another pregnant woman who now had no one to watch over her. “She’s fine, and so is my niece or nephew.”
“How about you?”
The question had come out of nowhere and caught Alec completely off-guard. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s not like you to take off from the force for three months. You love what you do better than any of us,” Patrick said, watching his brother closely. “And your cell phone is almost an extension of you, yet you stopped wearing it. This is the third day you’ve been here by yourself, yet you haven’t been by or called.”
Alec hoped his smile seemed natural instead of forced. “I decided if I was going to take a vacation, I should really take one. Besides, I don’t have time to answer the thing. And by the time I finish here in the evenings I’m too tired to go anyplace.”
“It’s just not like you,” Patrick said, a frown pleating his brow.
“If it will make you feel better, from now on my cell will be hooked to my belt,” Alec said, meeting Patrick’s probing gaze head-on.
“It would.” Patrick glanced around the beautiful but deserted backyard. “You’re here by yourself. If you got hurt, there would be no one to help you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Alec said; then he explained about Celeste working there. “She brings me lunch every day.”
Patrick cocked a brow. “How old is Celeste, and what does she look like?”
Alec opened his mouth to say he wasn’t interested, but since at one time he’d dated almost as much as their baby brother, Rafael, who on occasions had two dates in one day, he said instead, “Mid-twenties and hot.”
Patrick grinned and slapped Alec on the back. “I see your luck with women is holding.”
Alec smiled as was expected of him. “So if I don’t see you and Brianna much, don’t worry about me.”
“We wanted you over for dinner tonight.”
“Can’t make it,” Alec said. “But I’ll be here for a while.”
“I’ve never known you to move so fast. She must be something.” Patrick glanced toward the house.
“Yeah, so don’t mention her to Rafael,” Alec said. “You know how he is.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. Now get out of here, and let me get back to work.” Alec picked up his hammer. “Give Brianna a hug and a kiss for me.”
“Will do. Bye.”
A bitter taste in his mouth, Alec watched Patrick disappear around a flowering crape myrtle. He’d had to lie to his brother. It was another reason to feel guilty. There had always been trust between them. That Alec could no longer be that way tore at him.
His hand clenched on the hammer; then he tossed it to the ground and headed for the house. If having the cell would help alleviate his brother’s suspicion and worry, he’d just have to deal with it.
Inside, he bounded up the stairs, marveling again that his brother would be living in such a beautiful house. More than the house, he’d found a woman he deeply cared for. At the top of the stairs, Alec glanced toward the other wing where the master suite was located.
Celeste was a puzzle. This morning she’d brought him donuts. She’d worn her usual grin and said she didn’t want him doing without while he was away from home. He was positive she hadn’t meant the comment as sexual, but that hadn’t stopped his body from being aroused. He’d muttered thanks and turned away to hide his response.
He owed her an apology. It wasn’t her fault that his life had taken a detour into hell. His mother would be ashamed of him if she knew he’d treated a woman rudely, especially one who was only trying to be nice.
Before he changed his mind, he strode into the bedroom, then rushed to steady the ladder leaning precariously on one leg. “What the hell are you doing?”
Celeste shoved her hand through her long black unbound hair and licked her lips before answering. “Hanging wallpaper.”
The fit of his pants got tighter. “You shouldn’t be doing it alone.”
“Can’t be helped. Willie broke the cap off her tooth and is at the dentist.” She climbed back down the rungs. “I have to stay on schedule.”
“Can’t you do something that isn’t dangerous?” he asked, trying to keep his gaze from lowering to the jutted fullness of her breasts.
He lost the battle when she took something out of her pocket, gathered her hair on top of her head, and slid it over her hair to make a ponytail. He saw a smooth patch of olive-toned skin and the indentation of her navel. “I’ve done this before. I just miscalculated.”
She prepared another length of paper and climbed the ladder.
Alec grabbed the ladder, his gaze naturally looking upward. She stretched upward, causing her white knit top to rise. His eyes bugged on seeing a small flower at the base of her spine, and the blue elastic of her thong. “Mercy.”
“Did you say something?” she asked, smoothing out the paper.
“No.” Gritting his teeth, he stared straight ahead. Think of something else. “I’m sorry about this morning and the donuts.”
Smiling, she glanced down. “Did you enjoy them?”
“I did.” After missing dinner last night and breakfast this morning, he was hungry. The beer had only left him thirsty.
“Good.” She smoothed the paper out with a long-handled brush as she came down the ladder. “Simon made a good choice with this wallpaper.”
Alec’s head jerked back up. He stared at the subtle blue-on-blue-striped paper. “Simon picked this out?”
Laughter floated over his head. He worked his shoulders. It was easy imagining the same playful laughter in a bed draped with moonlight and Celeste draped over him. “He did. Most men hate wallpaper, but he saw that Maureen liked it and opted for wallpaper instead of paint.”
“That sounds like Simon. He’d do anything to make Maureen happy. Just as my other brothers will do for their wives.”
“How about you? Would you do anything to make the woman you love happy?”
“Since I haven’t met her yet, I couldn’t say,” he told her, keeping his voice emotionless. He might be doing a little fantasizing about Celeste, but that was as far as he planned to go.
Without a word, Celeste went back to working with the brush. The silence seemed oppressive. For some foolish reason he thought he might have hurt her feelings. Again. Deep in thought, he didn’t realize she had come down a step on the ladder until he caught a motion out of the corner of his eye, glanced up, and gulped. Celeste’s firm little butt was inches from his face. He stared at the small flower, the blue elastic.
“Alec, you can let go now.”
His head jerked up. She stared down at him with a puzzled frown. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” His fingers uncurled. He stepped back. “If I leave, are you going to work on something else that’s safer?”
“This is safe.” She came completely down the ladder. “Unfortunately, I’m a creature of habit. I do things in sequences, so the room unfolds. If I get the wallpaper up, I have a good visual as to how the room is going to work or if I need to make adjustments.”
“I like knowing where I’m going when I do woodwork, too,” he said. “It’s a waste of time and money otherwise.”
She beamed at him. “Exactly.”
He glanced around to break eye contact. Be careful, Alec. “All right. Grab a sheet and let’s get going.”
“You’re going to stay?”
“I wouldn’t get much work done wondering if you’re going to fall.”
“I don’t want to take you away from what you’re doing,” she said.
Her reluctance surprised him. He thought she was trying to make him more aware of her. “I’m almost finished with the work for the foundation, so I’m making good time.”
“You work fast,” she said.
There it was again, su
btle words that could be taken entirely differently. “On some things, but in others I’m cautious.”
“Since you’re a policeman, I’m not surprised.” Her arm brushed his as she passed. Tingles ran up his arm. His eyes narrowed. He wasn’t certain she hadn’t done it on purpose. Squatting by her supplies, she quickly prepared the next length of paper. “Me, I believe in going all out.”
“That could be dangerous,” he warned.
She waited until she stood in front of him, her stance as flirtatious as it was challenging. “It could also be very rewarding.” Smiling, she moved toward the ladder.
Alec gripped the ladder, more to control his reaction to the tempting woman climbing it than to steady it. This time he watched her every step. She couldn’t have made it any plainer; she was coming after him.
All he could think of was that he hoped the good Lord helped them both.
SIX
They were at an impasse, but Celeste had no intention of losing.
“I mean it, Alec.”
“So do I.”
Celeste stared at Alec. He stared right back.
He wasn’t used to being pushed. Tough. She’d seen the hungry, intense way he’d looked at her. He was interested, but he had no intention of giving in to those feelings—which elevated him in Celeste’s opinion. Who wanted to spend time with a man who took just for the sake of taking, or one who couldn’t control his emotions?
“Ms. de la Vega—”
“Celeste.” Before this was over, he’d purr her name. “The only way I’m letting you help me any longer is if we both take a break and eat lunch.”
His beautiful black eyes narrowed. “That’s a form of blackmail. Did you forget I’m a policeman?”
“Nope.” She wasn’t about to forget one glorious thing about the very annoyed man standing in front of her, his wide hands on his hips, his sensual mouth compressed in a narrow line. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I made gumbo.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“So I’ve heard a few times.” Smiling to herself, Celeste left the room and quickly went downstairs to the kitchen. The table was already set for two. She’d thought a great deal about Alec Dunlap last night. He was a man worth getting to know better.
