“I’m still not convinced. You’ve given me reasons, Meg, but you haven’t shown me the passion that would make me realize I don’t have a chance.”
“You don’t,” she said, pacing over to him and putting her hand on his chest. “I’m not going to back down, and I’ll drive the price up if I have to. Granted, I was never an investor, so my pockets aren’t as deep as yours. But my roots are here and I know the planning commissioners, the realtors and even Elias Clapham. His granddaughter was in my class in school. So I have the home field advantage.”
“Good. I was hoping you weren’t going to go all soft on me.”
“Not likely. So what do you say to just letting me have it and save yourself the trouble?”
He shook his head. “Does that approach usually work with the men around here?”
“I’m just letting you know I won’t back down,” she said.
He stood up, towering over her. “Good. I could never resist a challenge.”
HE WASN’T THE first man to say that; Hollis had liked a challenge, too. Or at least, he’d pretended to.
She’d counted on Hollis to want the same things she had. That they’d work hard and make it big, that they’d share the spotlight and be the new darlings of home renovation. Only, Hollis didn’t want to work . . . and he didn’t want to share.
There were no similarities between Hollis and Rory except they were both male. Still, she wasn’t yet ready to trust this near stranger with the truth. That when she looked at the ramshackle house, she saw her future.
“So now that you know how badly I want the house, are you going to use it against me?” she asked.
“Not at all. I was testing myself to see how badly I want this place. Will you be selling it when you’re done making it over?” he asked.
She hadn’t thought about that. She doubted she’d ever sell it, but what did he want to hear? “I hadn’t planned that far ahead.”
“Liar.”
“What?” she asked. “I just got back to town. I have no idea what I’m going to do next. I just want this house.”
“Me, too.”
“Why? What does it represent to you?” she asked, turning the tables on him.
She needed ammunition if she was going to battle him. Needed to figure out what made him tick. She’d spent a lot of time working with all sorts of different personalities. It was about time she put that experience to use.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Like you, I like to fix the past.”
“I don’t fix it. We can’t do that, can we?” she asked.
“No. We can’t. But we can make the stuff from the past workable again.”
“Is that what you do?” she asked.
“Not with my own two hands. My older brother . . . I actually have four of them. But Pat is really good with refurbishing old things. So I’m going to have him help me.”
“Why?”
“Sorry, honey, that’s all I can tell you today,” he said.
“That’s hardly anything, honey,” she said. There had been a curious note in his voice when he’d mentioned his brother. It was something that she intended to look into. He wasn’t going to back down. She needed to regroup. Clearly, there wasn’t anything she could say to change his mind, but perhaps she could dig up some dirt on him. Once she figured out his whole story, she could use her contacts to find him another place to buy.
“Nothing wrong with that. Still, I’d feel a lot better if I could figure out what your end game is.”
“Happiness,” she said with a cheeky grin. She’d been revealing way too much today, and it was time to retreat. “What’s yours?”
He tipped his head to the side. “The same. Doesn’t everyone want that?”
“I suppose so. But I think we all define it differently.”
“Today, it seems we both see it in that house,” he said, pointing to it. As he stretched out his arm, his chest muscles rippled. He was seriously built. It would be so easy to get distracted . . .
She’d never been one to fall in lust at first sight. But being so close to him, with the rain falling on this hot summer’s day, tempted her to act on impulse, just this once.
She didn’t know him. It was a novelty to think of being with a guy whose family history wasn’t interwoven with her childhood. His stories would be different from hers. But there was something else about him that attracted her. Something she was afraid to define.
She wondered what forbidden fruit tasted like at thirty. At eighteen, any boy who needled her father would do. At twenty-five, she’d found a carpenter with rough hands and stars in his eyes. None of those men had done anything other than reinforce her belief that the kind of man she wanted—the heroes of all the books she’d read growing up—wasn’t a guy she’d ever find in real life.
Yet here she was, alone with a bad boy on his motorcycle and she was arguing about a house. She wished she was more versed in the art of flirtation. Then she could bat her eyelashes and he’d gladly bow out. But that wasn’t her. And it never had been.
“You are looking at me like I’ve just sprung devil’s horns and a tail.”
“I wish you had. It would make my life so much easier.”
He threw his head back and laughed, and she realized she was taking herself too seriously. It was another of her faults.
“I like you, Meg.”
She had to smile at him. “You have caught me on a rare day. Usually I’m not this interesting.”
Her clothing was starting to dry. The rain had slowed and the heat returned, causing steam to rise from the ground around them. She should go. Now that she knew what she was up against, she could just call her realtor and reschedule. So why was she reluctant to leave?
Chapter Three
BEFORE SHE COULD decide whether or not to leave, J.P. arrived with Rory’s realtor, Connie Mills. Connie had been at Meg’s going-away party five years ago, and, to be honest, Meg had hoped to avoid her.
Well, not just Connie. Anyone who’d been there. Part of the reason she’d contacted J.P. in the first place was because he wasn’t local—he worked out of the Orlando office.
“Hey, there, Meg. I heard you were back in town. I’ve been watching for your show.”
“Hey, Connie. I’m afraid it never panned out.”
“That’s too bad. I still think you’re the best decorator I know,” Connie said, then turned to Rory. “I heard you cleaned up today at the volleyball game. You’re the new town hero.”
“In certain circles,” Meg added. “I’m guessing my dad and his cronies might not feel the same.”
Connie laughed in that gregarious way of hers and Meg felt a little of her embarrassment fade. Connie had accepted her and her return as just one of those things.
“I didn’t realize you were from around here,” J.P. said.
He and Meg had met through her contacts in New York at HGTV. They’d done a lot of research together, scouting projects for locations, over the last few years. “I am.”
“I guess that’s why you’re so interested in this place. It’d be nice to bring some attention to your small town.”
“I don’t know about that,” Connie said. “Meg, are you still working for the television network?”
“No. I’m not,” Meg said.
J.P. looked confused but she’d straighten him out later. Rory was quietly watching the entire thing and she had the awful feeling that she’d given him more ammunition to use against her.
“Let’s go inside and see just what we’re looking at,” J.P. said. The realtors walked ahead to the front door and opened the Supra box to retrieve the keys.
“So who are you lying to—him or me?”
“Neither. I’m not working for the network right now. I have the opportunity to use this makeover
as an audition to get my own show,” she said.
“Isn’t that what you did last time?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I was part of a team.”
“With whom?”
“A guy from Tallahassee that I met in college. I don’t really want to talk about this now,” she said.
“How about at dinner? Don’t say no. We both know it’s what you want.”
“Fine. Dinner. Meet me at the diner—”
“No way. A real date, not the diner.”
“Why a real date?”
“Because you intrigue me, Meg Starling.”
She nodded. “There aren’t any other restaurants in town. We’ll have to go Hidden Springs Cookhouse.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll pick you up at seven?”
She nodded.
They entered the house to find J.P. and Connie already signing a book and leaving their cards on the counter.
“Let’s take the upstairs first,” J.P. said. As she followed him, he asked, “So what’s up with you and the hunk?”
“The hunk? He’s a firefighter. And he apparently used to be an investor. I’m going to do some research and find out how we can get him out of the picture.”
“Good plan. He might drive the price up. How can I help?” J.P. asked.
“Find him another property,” she suggested. “There’s got be another place that he’d like just as well, if not more. I need this one.”
J.P. led the way through the rooms. “So, you’re not with the network anymore?”
“No. But one of the producers told me that if I did a good job with this makeover, I might have a shot at another job with them. He’s the one who mentioned the property. Did you scout it for him?”
“I did. In fact, I sent him a list of all properties in this area. I’ll forward the list to you so you can make some subtle suggestions to your rival.”
“Thanks, J.P. It’s nice to see a friendly face.”
“You’re back home, girl. I bet all you see are friendly faces,” he said.
She smiled because she knew it was what J.P. was expecting. But deep inside, she knew she wasn’t home. Not yet. She still had to settle something for herself. She had to prove she had what it took to be a success. Then, maybe she’d feel better about being back.
THE HIDDEN SPRINGS Cookhouse was out on County Road 54 beyond Hutchens’ fish camp. It was rustic and quaint, but with a chef who’d earned his four stars cooking in the UK before he’d met a Florida girl, married her and moved to the Twin Palms area.
Meg knew all of this courtesy of Anne, who had spent the day out here with the rest of the Chamber of Commerce business owners prior to the grand opening last spring.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Rory said. “I know it’s a first date, so I’m guessing maybe you’re nervous?”
They were seated across from each other near a wall of plate glass windows that overlooked the reintroduced wetlands and the thin ribbon of “river” that was fed by the natural spring.
“I am nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date.”
“Me too,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“Um . . . I’m recently divorced.”
“Really? You don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d give up that easily.”
“I didn’t give up,” he said. “Are we doing this before our appetizers are delivered?”
“Doing what?”
“Delving into each other’s pasts to find ammunition to come out the winner in our private property war.”
“I was making small talk,” Meg said.
“I know. But I’m not good at talking about failing. Let’s just say I was married to a woman who thought she knew what she wanted, only it turned out she didn’t.”
“Fair enough. Is that why you quit being a firefighter?”
“Partially,” he said. “She hated how dangerous my job was.”
“Where were you working?” she asked. “Aren’t you originally from South Florida?”
He tipped his head to the side. He looked good tonight in his black jeans and gray button-down shirt that he’d left open at the collar. His shoulders were wide and, though the shirt fit him, it seemed to barely contain him.
“Did you Google me?”
She blushed, feeling the heat color her face. Ugh, that was the downside of being naturally fair. “Maybe.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I did the same thing. I read all about the five years you spent in New York. You’ve worked on a lot of shows. And I noticed that a lot of your associates were very complimentary.”
Of course they were. Even though working in the background hadn’t been her goal, she’d been raised to work hard. “Thank you. I saw that your brother had an accident just before Christmas. Is that why you want him to work on the house with you?”
Rory reached for his glass and took a swallow of his beer. “Yes. He can’t go back to the firehouse until his leg is fully healed and being Pat, he’s having a hard time staying away.”
“What do you mean?”
Rory rubbed the back of his neck. Although it didn’t have anything to do with her plan to outbid him on the Clapham place, Meg noticed that Rory let his guard down a little when he talked about his family.
Until that moment, it hadn’t been obvious he’d had his guard up.
“Pat has been a firefighter for the last fourteen years. He hasn’t said anything to me, but I can see that sitting at home is getting to him. But he can’t go back to the firehouse until his physical therapist clears him. So he needs something to do.”
Meg took a sip of her chardonnay as she watched him. He’d used some sort of product in his hair and it was neatly styled this evening. But in her mind, she still remembered the way he’d looked in the rain this afternoon.
“That’s sweet.”
Rory shrugged. “We’re family. You look after each other, you know?”
She did know. Her parents had come to see her in New York, encouraging her to keep working hard toward her dream, even after it had become clear it wasn’t going to happen.
“I have a sister,” Meg said.
“Oh?”
“Anne. She owns the diner. That’s why I can’t buy the Victorian.”
“I get that. That’s why I’m living up here in Central Florida. You can’t swing a cat in South Dade County without hitting an O’Roarke.”
She laughed. “How many brothers did you say you have?”
“Four brothers, two nephews, a sister and a brother-in-law. Plus assorted aunts, uncles and cousins,” he said.
“Are they all firefighters?”
“Mostly. There are a few teachers and a police dispatcher thrown in for good measure.”
“So you’ve got a traitor in the family,” Meg said with a smile.
“Exactly. Luckily, she wasn’t born an O’Roarke. She married my dad’s brother, so we forgave her.”
“Good thing,” Meg said, relaxing a little.
Rory was funny and charming. Their dinner was delicious, but when it was over, she realized she hadn’t really learned anything she could use against Rory. All she’d done was prove to herself that he was interesting. Someone she wanted to get to know better.
And that seemed like the dumbest idea of all. Heck, she wasn’t sure she even knew herself any more. She’d come home to find her true self and instead she’d found Rory.
Damn.
RORY DROVE MEG’S car back through the town of Twin Palms. Dinner had been fun. He’d forgotten what it was like to go out for a meal and not sit across from his date in tense silence. Toward the end, he and Natalie had been fighting all the time.
Meg looked pretty in her white sundress with her hair falling free around
her shoulders. The dress was respectable, but slim-fitting. It ended mid-thigh, showing off her spectacular legs.
He should just drop her off, get on his Harley and drive away. No goodnight kiss. No making another date. She was his rival. And he needed that property—for himself and for his brother. Despite what Pat hoped, he might not be able to go back to being a firefighter.
Meg lived a few blocks off Main Street on a small lane that was lined with picturesque duplexes and a lot of green grass and mature trees. He pulled into her driveway, then put the car in park, turned off the engine and handed her the keys.
She sat there for a long minute, looking over at him.
He was curious about her. There was fire banked in the back of her cinnamon eyes, making her hard to resist. From all she’d said, the last thing she wanted was a guy in her life.
Lord knew a relationship was the last thing he needed either. Still, he was curious to find out if that passion she’d been flashing around all day would come through in her kiss. Based on what he was coming to know of her, he suspected she was curious, too. So he closed the small gap between them and put his hands lightly on her shoulders.
She arched one eyebrow up at him and he felt a shiver of sexual awareness go through him. She reached for the door handle and got out of the car, leading the way to her front porch. He followed her.
“Want to come inside for a nightcap?” she asked, then started laughing. “I’ve never had a nightcap before, but I grew up hearing that in movies. I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“Then I guess I’d better take you up on the offer. I’ve never had one either. What does it entail?”
“I can’t offer you alcohol because I’m the daughter of a cop. How about coffee?”
“Nah. How about a kiss?”
“I don’t think that’s how a nightcap works,” she said.
“No but it’s the best way I can think of to say goodnight.”
Meg made him feel alive and a little wild. Two things he hadn’t realized were missing until this moment. He put his hand on the doorjamb and leaned over her. She tipped her head to the side and her hair grazed his hand.
In The Heat 0f The Night (The O'Roarkes Duet Book 2) Page 3
