“Why don’t you get into your pajamas then read or something. Want me to make you a cup of tea?” His hands moved to her shoulders to knead tense muscles. “Aren’t the ones that taste like bark and berries supposed to relax you?”
She smiled. “Tea and a book sounds like heaven.”
“I guess that would make me an angel. I can honestly say no one’s ever accused me of being angelic before.”
Her eyes drifted shut, and a little moan slipped through her lips. “Don’t stop. Your hands are magic. Maybe you are good for me, after all.”
He paused before continuing to massage the tight muscles. Her chin tilted down to rest against her chest as he stroked the back of her neck.
“Why would you think I’m not good for you?”
One shoulder moved in a tiny shrug. “You’re a lot of fun.”
“I won’t argue with that.” Taking her hand, he pulled her toward the bed and pushed her, face down, on top of the spread. Sitting beside her, he went to work along the length of her spine, thumbs moving down her backbone. “Doesn’t answer my question.”
She turned her head sideways on the pillow. “Maybe too fun.”
“How can anyone be too fun?”
“I’m thirty-four years old, which means I’ve had plenty of time to play. I told you once before I’m ready to settle down now.”
“You’re saying settling down and having fun don’t go together? Maybe you should reconsider your priorities.”
“They aren’t mutually exclusive—for me. With you, it’s a whole different story. I get the distinct impression settling isn’t in your genes.”
“So you’re looking for a boring guy.” He dug his fingers into her back.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry.” He went back to stroking gently and elicited another one of those moans that made him wonder if he should rethink the benefits of a more traditional future…. He shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, his thigh pressing against the length of hers. “You’re anything but boring, Claire. Honestly, I think you’re all wrong about what’ll make you happy.”
She rolled over and frowned up at him. “I’m not wrong. Since my breakup with Ross, the few involvements I’ve had have been casual. In each case, we both had some fun before going our separate ways with no regrets. Because I didn’t want to get hurt again, I’ve been pretty cautious. But—”
“Why does there always have to be a but?”
Her brows lowered. “Are you trying to annoy me?”
He held out his hands, regretting they weren’t still touching her, and smiled. “Now why would I do that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, fun is, well, fun, but it gets old after a while. I want stability, commitment, a home that doesn’t have wheels. You don’t.”
“My cabin is pretty damn permanent. It isn’t going anywhere.”
“No, but you aren’t in it. You’re extremely mobile.”
“I can’t argue with that either. However, you’re missing one big point. Isn’t your job all about travel? Going to some new, out-of-the-way location to take photographs for people who never make the time in their lives to visit these places in person?”
“Yes, which is why I want someplace—someone—stable to come home to between assignments. Is that unreasonable?”
“I suppose not.” He let out a sigh. “So, because I’m fun and like to explore new places, exactly like you do, you’ve determined I’m not good for you.”
“When you put it in those terms, I sound like a lunatic, but am I wrong?”
He stared long and hard into her beautiful blue eyes. She didn’t blink, didn’t look away. Not a hint of playfulness or humor crept into her gaze. She was dead serious.
For once, so was he. “I think you’re very wrong. I think we could have something good together if you’d let down your guard. We have caring and companionship and chemistry. Especially chemistry. Don’t dismiss all that just because I’m entertaining and unconventional.”
She sighed. “I’m not. I’m still here with you, aren’t I? Even though I know I should run far and fast to avoid another disastrous relationship, I haven’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I like you too much to walk away. But—and it’s a big but—I’m not stupid enough to think you’re going to change your lifestyle for me.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“Same place we’ve been. Here. Together. For now.”
“And afterward?”
“Maybe we’ll keep in touch, text each other, send an e-mail now and then.”
“Sounds awful.” After a moment of silence, he stood. “You’re tired and emotionally drained, so I’m not going to push tonight, but you should know I’m not giving up. I don’t quit when I want something.”
“Even if the thing you want gets hurt in the process?” Before he could answer she held up her hand. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jed.”
“I won’t. I’m a man of my word. Count on it.”
Chapter 9
“I still can’t believe Aunt Agatha left me her home.” Claire leaned forward and clutched the dashboard as she and Jed bumped down the long, rutted driveway. Anticipation, along with more than a few nerves, fluttered in her chest as she waited for her first glimpse of the house. Hutchins, the lawyer, had warned her the place needed some work. Still, it was hers.
Jed glanced over and smiled then put his hand on her arm. “How many times are you going to say that?”
“Until I don’t have to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake.”
She’d expected the atmosphere between them to be awkward after everything she’d said the night before. It wasn’t. Another damned point in Jed’s favor. He didn’t brood or hold grudges. Make that two points. He’d whistled while he scrambled eggs for their breakfast then held her hand through a difficult call to her great-aunt’s lawyer. If she didn’t know better, she’d start believing he was as perfect inside as he appeared on the surface.
The SUV rounded a bend then jerked to a stop. She sat back in her seat and stared.
Jed spoke before she could find any words. “Wow, the place reminds me of something out of a horror movie. All it needs for atmosphere is bats circling instead of seagulls.”
Perched near the edge of the cliff, the weathered, gray shingled house was just as she remembered with its round tower and steeply pitched roof—until he shifted into gear and drove closer. Crumbling mortar and a few stray bricks lay in the weedy grass along the side of the building, and the porch was propped up with…
“Cinderblocks?” Claire’s grip on the dashboard tightened until her knuckles turned white. “What happened to the front steps?”
“Looks like someone ripped them out, probably intending to replace them. Maybe your great-aunt was planning a few repairs before she had the stroke and moved to a convalescent home.” He turned off the engine and set the parking brake.
Taking a deep breath, Claire opened the door to step down. Scoop scrambled out of the backseat and leaped through the opening. Nose pressed to the ground, he ran in circles, sniffing his new surroundings.
“A little work? If this is the lawyer’s idea of minor repairs, I’d hate to see major.” Her gaze scanned upward. “The roof doesn’t look too bad, but a bunch of the shingled siding is damaged. If those bricks are from the foundation…” She let out a long sigh. “Do you think the building is structurally sound?”
“I’ll have to take a closer look to answer that question. If you don’t want to hassle with repairs, you could always sell the place as is, though you’d probably make a larger profit after renovations. The view is unbelievable.”
Behind the house, choppy gray water stretched to the horizon in an unbroken vista. Overhead, seagulls swooped around the tall, brick chimney, their harsh cries an echo from her past. Down the coast, a fog horn blared mournfully as she breathed in the salt scented air.
“I don’t w
ant to sell the house. I want to live here.”
His brows shot upward. “You’re kidding. The place is a wreck.”
“Good thing Aunt Agatha left me some cash. I’ll hire a good contractor. I’m sure Hutchins can recommend one.”
“I’ll check the place out first to see what needs to be done.”
She turned and stared. “How would you know about structural repairs? A few are obvious, but—”
“I worked construction for several years before I took over the camping retreat. I know enough to make sure you won’t get ripped off if you’re serious about restoring the place.”
“I’m serious.”
Skepticism darkened his eyes. “Let’s take a look inside. The house has been standing this long. I don’t think it’ll collapse around our ears during a walk-through.”
Taking her hand, he led the way across the sparse grass that had once been a beautiful lawn. Tail waving, Scoop trotted at his side. With a leap, the dog launched up onto the porch. Jed heaved himself up beside him then reached down to give her a hand. His warm palm closed over hers again as he tugged her up onto the wide plank flooring.
“The porch is solid. Looks like it was replaced not so long ago. Where’s the key?”
Curling still tingling fingers, she stuck her hand in her pocket. “There should be a lockbox on the door. The combination is six-three-one.”
He pushed the proper buttons then removed an old-fashioned brass key. The door creaked as he opened it wide on a rush of stale air.
Jed turned and smiled. “I’ll go first just in case there’re any…surprises.”
She paused on the threshold. Straight across the entry, stairs wound upward like something out of Gone With the Wind. She’d always loved that staircase. Her head jerked around as his words finally registered. “Surprises? What kind of surprises?”
“Weak floorboards. Rodents. Snakes. Spiders.”
Clasping her arms around her chest, Claire shuddered. “By all means, lead the way. I don’t mind mice, but a snake…ugh.”
“I remember. You weren’t fond of creepy-crawly things when you were younger.”
“I’m less fond of them now.” As they made their way into the place, she poked her head through the doorway on the left. Sheets covered a large flat surface and miscellaneous lumps. “This is the dining room. At least someone covered the furniture. I remember how shiny Aunt Agatha’s dining room table used to be. She went ballistic once when I set a cola can on it without using a coaster.”
Jed lifted a corner of the sheet. “Walnut. A little formal for my taste. This room doesn’t seem to need any major repairs. The wallpaper is pretty dingy, but you could remove it and paint to lighten things up in here. Maybe get rid of those heavy drapes and put in some blinds. The hardwood flooring is indestructible. All it needs is a good cleaning.”
She pulled Scoop away from a pile of mouse droppings in the corner. “Were you also an interior decorator?”
He grinned. “I just know what I like.”
“The kitchen is behind this room. I wonder how bad it is.”
“Let’s find out. Move it, Scoop.” He gave the dog a shove then headed through the doorway in the far wall. “Not bad if you like retro. Looks like the last time your aunt remodeled was in the 80s. The plumbing and wiring will have to be checked, and you’ll probably want to switch out those florescent lights for recessed. The terracotta tile floor isn’t bad.”
“Maybe change the handles on the cabinets. I’ll have to see if my budget will stretch to new countertops. Formica—double ugh. The kitchen looks exactly the same as it did when I was in high school. The olive green appliances were ugly even then.”
A small breakfast nook with a spectacular view of rolling waves completed the south side of the house. Across the short hall behind the stairs, a big living room with tall windows overlooked the ocean. Squeezed between the formal gathering area and the library in the front tower room was a half-bath.
Jed rested one hand on her shoulder and pointed with the other. “See those water stains? Looks like you have a leak behind the sink.”
She nodded, her head brushing against his chest. “The vinyl floor needs to be replaced, but I like the pedestal sink. At least the living room and library are in good condition.”
“What’s upstairs?”
“Four bedrooms and two baths.”
“Let’s go check them out.” He led the way up the staircase, running his hand along the mahogany rail. “The place is a little big for one person.”
“Aunt Agatha grew up here. She had two younger sisters and a brother. Her father, who I guess would be my great-grandfather, owned a lumber company. After he died in an accident, the business was sold, but she lived here with her mother until she passed away. Her siblings, including my grandfather, all moved out of the area.”
Jed paused in the doorway of the first bedroom and glanced around. “Nice crown molding.” His lips quirked upward. “While I appreciate the family history lesson, I meant big for you.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “If I get lonely, I could always advertise for a roommate.” When Scoop raced down the hall and disappeared into one of the back bedrooms, she followed. “Or adopt another dog. Maybe a couple of cats. Aunt Agatha had a huge, gray tabby that was meaner than hell.”
“Is that your plan, to become a crazy cat lady?”
“Maybe.” She walked over to the bay window and leaned on the sill. Out at sea, a fishing trawler moved slowly down the coastline. The faint barking of a sea lion on a rocky perch penetrated the single-paned glass window. “You never know. One of these days I might get married and fill the house with rug rats.”
“I like kids. What you see is what you get with them.” He stepped up behind her, surrounding her with his warmth when he rested his hands on either side of the window. “Of course then they turn into teenagers. Kane’s oldest stepdaughter is sixteen.” He laughed. “She’s giving him gray hair.”
“Not the easiest age, that’s for sure. What about you? Do you want kids of your own, or are you content being an uncle?”
“I’m not against the idea of fatherhood…when the time is right.”
Claire turned slightly to glance up at him. A pulse beat at the base of his neck, and a day old growth of beard darkened his jaw. When his bright blue gaze met hers, she swallowed. The man was too damn sexy for her peace of mind.
“You’re thirty-five. How long do you intend to wait?”
“I don’t know. I’m not on a schedule.”
“Of course you aren’t.” She ducked under his arm then moved out of reach to stand in front of the brick fireplace. “This was Aunt Agatha’s room. I thought it was beyond cool that she had a fireplace in her bedroom.”
“It’d be a total pain in the ass to haul wood all the way up here.” He followed Scoop out into the hallway. “The bathrooms on this floor need to be remodeled, and the windows should be replaced, but that’s about it. The house is in better shape than I thought.”
“That’s a relief.” Claire headed for the stairs, pausing to take a quick peek into the tower bedroom. The small space would make an ideal office—or a nursery. She shook off the second thought. “The lawyer said it won’t take long to settle the estate. As soon as everything’s legal, I’ll get started on the exterior repairs. Best to get those done before the rainy season sets in.”
“So, you really intend to stay?” His footsteps were muffled by the dusty wool runner stretching the length of the hall.
“I told you I wanted a place where I belong.” Her lips firmed as they came to the stairs. “It makes sense to settle here. I always loved this house, and I like the town. Everybody knows everyone else. There’s a real sense of community. And one of the best friends I’ve ever had lives here. That’s a big plus.”
His lip curled. “Dallas?”
She paused on the first step. “I meant Theresa.”
“Oh.”
Scoop�
��s toenails clicked on the wooden stairs. The silence stretched between them as they reached the entry.
She cleared her throat. “No critters. I’m thankful for that.”
Jed held the front door open. “Huh?”
“Rodents or snakes. I saw a few cobwebs, though.”
“Based on the droppings, I’m pretty sure there are mice, but they haven’t completely taken over the place. The sheet covering the big couch next to the fireplace in the living room looked like something had gnawed on it.”
“Even if they gnawed the couch, it’s not a great loss. The one I remember had big pink roses splashed all over it.”
Jed locked the door and returned the key to the box. “Anything else you want to do before we go?”
“Not much point in checking out the garage or the storage shed. Thanks for touring the house with me.”
“You bet.” He held her arm as she jumped down from the porch, then walked around the side of the building to crouch beside the foundation. “The loose bricks came from the chimney running up the side of the house, not the foundation. The mortar is crumbling in places. You’ll need to hire a mason to fix it before you can use the fireplaces.”
She came to stand behind him. “So the foundation is sound?”
“I’d say so.” He rose to his feet. “The repairs and upgrades shouldn’t be too horribly expensive, considering it’s an old house that has been neglected for what, twenty years?”
“Fifteen since my aunt had her stroke. I can’t believe no one notified my dad even if she stipulated he not be contacted.” Her fists clenched. “She lived for years in that nursing home with no visitors. That’s just not right.”
“She made her choice, Claire.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they headed back to the SUV. “Sounds like she was a proud woman in addition to being set in her ways and a little mean. Maybe she didn’t want to be pitied. The lawyer told you she had excellent care in the convalescent facility, right?”
Every Vow She Breaks Page 10
