“Who knows what?” Deanna said, poking Lacey on the arm.
A startled Lacey bolted up. “What?”
“You just said, ‘who knows,’ like you were asking one of us a question.”
Lacey shook herself a little. She was lying on the beach with her sisters beside her. What twilight land had she inhabited? Apparently after all these years thoughts of Matt Cavanaugh could still send her into a trance.
“Who knows…um…what time it is?” she said, flustered and covering it.
“Time for you to go back to sleep,” Deanna said, rolling over to cook a new expanse of her shapely body.
But Lacey didn’t want to go back to sleep. She wasn’t sure who she would meet in that twilight world, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to cope with Matt if he showed up again.
She put on her sunglasses and stared out at the water instead.
Chapter 2
The real estate sign went up on Thursday: For Sale By Keever Properties. Darby Keever herself banged it into place. She was of an indeterminate age, skin as tanned as shoe leather and hair as bleached as Grammer’s best linen tablecloth. Lacey had ventured to the porch to watch the sad proceedings, and Darby had twittered for a full fifteen minutes about how pleased she was that Edward Colman had chosen her to list the house, and how easy it would be to sell.
The exhaust from her gold Lincoln Town Car was still fogging Pelican Street when Lacey pulled out the sign and stuck it in the trash can next door. Luckily Darby had hit and run on garbage collection day.
“Gosh, Darby,” Lacey said to nobody. “I just can’t imagine what happened to the sign. It must have blown away in a gust of wind.”
Inside she found Grammer reading the newspaper in the Florida room, unaware of what had just transpired. In the past few days the sisters had tiptoed around the issue of the house, but they had ventured a comment or two whenever it seemed wise. Now Lacey knew the time to stop tiptoeing had arrived.
“Grammer, are you really going to let Daddy sell this house? I know he’s pigheaded, but if you put your foot down, he’ll listen to you. He won’t sell it out from under you.”
Grammer looked up. “Edward and I have discussed it many times. He’s certain he knows what’s best. And he’s right. It’s too much house for me these days, I’m afraid.”
“But we could always hire more help. Maybe Big John would take over some of the yardwork, too. Or if he’s too busy, we could hire a lawn service, and someone to do the housework. Even somebody to help get your meals.”
“I’m not quite ready for Meals on Wheels. But I rattle around the house. When I broke my ankle and couldn’t get into town very well I realized just how lonely this house can be. And I’m not getting any younger, you know. It’s a fact of life.”
Lacey had to resist putting her hand on her chest in horror. “I don’t believe you’re as sure about this as you sound.”
“You always did like to cut right to the heart of a matter. Saved you time.”
“Grammer…”
“Yes, darling, of course you’re right. I have ambivalent feelings. I’ve lived my entire adult life here. But sometimes we have to move on, even if we don’t want to.”
Lacey didn’t know what else to say. But she did know she wasn’t going to let Darby Keever sell Grammer’s house. Not right away. If nothing else Grammer needed more time to decide for sure what she wanted for her future. And the three sisters could make sure she got it.
“What are your plans for the day?” Grammer’s gaze drifted longingly back to her newspaper.
“I think I’m going to see Matt Cavanaugh.”
Grammer’s gaze shot to her face. “Are you? How lovely.”
Lacey smiled. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. He invited me when I saw him at Wallace’s, and he said he’s working at home in the mornings these days. So he can spend more time with his boys.”
“His boys…” Grammer’s gaze flicked away again, as if she was hoping to find another location for it to rest. Any location. “Yes, the twins.”
“Riley and Roman,” Lacey said. “Um…cute names?”
“I believe I heard that Jill named them for her favorite soap opera stars.”
That brought Lacey up short. “Soap opera?”
“Jill was a beautiful young woman, with old-fashioned Southern manners and charm.” Grammer sighed and caught her granddaughter’s eye again. “As far as I could tell, Jill’s interests ranged from the length and color of her nails to whatever new tropical resort she could persuade Matt to let her visit. In between she liked television and talking on the telephone. The nanny took care of the boys.”
Edith Colman didn’t have a vindictive bone in her body. If she characterized Jill this way, it was nothing more than an unflinching assessment.
“I hate to speak ill of the dead, but it sounds like Jill and Geo were made for each other,” Lacey said. “She would have loved Beverly Hills.”
“One more thing you and Matt have in common. You both saw more in your respective spouses than was really there.” This time Grammer did go back to her newspaper, and Lacey knew she’d been dismissed.
Upstairs she pawed through her wardrobe. She hadn’t told Grammer the real reason for her visit to Matt’s—or at least the reason she was staunchly repeating to herself. In their brief conversation at Wallace’s, Matt had mentioned wanting to buy a house on the island, a large house with enough room for the boys and an office. He and the twins had moved in with his parents after Jill’s death to make child care easier, and now everyone needed more privacy.
“If your Grandmother’s house was for sale,” he had said, “that would be the perfect choice.”
Now the house was for sale, and Lacey was determined to make sure that Matt didn’t try to buy it. Not yet. She might not be able to cut every prospective buyer off at the pass, but she could deal with this one face-to-face.
She settled on a forest-green sundress just a shade or two darker than her eyes. It was an elongated tank-top dress that showed off the subtle curves of her body and the long length of her legs. At the last minute she threw her favorite bikini into her straw purse, just in case Matt wanted to swim, and grabbed her car keys.
She wished a sister was there to give final approval on the dress, but both Marti and Deanna were on the mainland visiting friends.
“You’re a grown woman, an attorney and as sensible as the day is long.” Lacey stared at herself in the mirror, pulled the dress down just a tuck, and headed for the door.
She wasn’t one to fantasize, but before she was out the front door she had already begun to imagine what life with Matt and the twins would be like. Matt coming home from work to hear what their beautiful little sons had done that day. Matt pouring wine in the evening as she prepared pasta or fresh fish and the boys played quietly in the living room. She and Matt putting the boys to bed at night, tucking their tiny tanned bodies into fresh sheets she’d laundered herself, then heading for their own bedroom…
She got to that last part of the fantasy when she was just a few blocks from Matt’s parents’ house. She turned up the air conditioner full blast and hoped her flushed cheeks would cool before she arrived at his front door.
Matt Cavanaugh was exhausted, and the day had barely started. He wasn’t sure why he had told Yelina it was okay to leave him alone with Roman and Riley for the morning. Maybe she was getting a headache—who could blame her—but she was also going to get a real break starting tomorrow. The lucky woman was leaving for a two-month vacation at her family home in Tampa, and he didn’t really expect her to return. She had cared for the boys since their infancy, but even Yelina had limits. There was a man waiting at home who wanted to marry her and give her children of her own. And Matt was desperately afraid she was going to say yes.
“Roman took my shovel!”
Matt looked down at his son, his blond-haired, chubby-cheeked, blue-eyed son, and shook his head. “Exactly, Riley. He took your shovel because you took
his and threw it into the water, and he can’t find it.”
“But it’s mine!” Riley tried to wrench the plastic shovel from his identical brother’s clenched fist. “Mine! Mine!”
Roman used the shovel to hit Riley on top of the head.
Although there was some justice in the act, Matt sighed and reached for the shovel himself. “Time out. I’ll hold on to it. Riley, go look for Roman’s. Maybe the waves brought it back.”
Midwail, Riley stopped and considered. Then, kicking sand in every direction, he started for the shore, followed closely by his brother. They were born to treasure hunt.
“Exactly how do you tell them apart?”
Matt looked up to see Lacey standing beside the dunes that separated his parents’ house from the beach. She was dressed in what looked like a long T-shirt with thin straps anchoring it to her curvaceous body. His mouth went dry. She was all legs, lean, lovely arms and a long, slender neck. Her dark hair glistened in the sunshine, fine and straight and altogether enticing.
“Riley has a scar on his cheek. Roman has one on his chin. They fight.”
She smiled. “Those little cuties?”
He smiled, too. Little did she know. He was sorry she was about to find out.
“They’re best friends,” he said, “and worst enemies. They have—” he shrugged “—energy?”
She started toward him. “They’re boys, aren’t they? Isn’t energy a good thing? Little leaguers in the making?”
They were eye to eye now, and he searched hers. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“And if I hadn’t?”
“I would have come for you.”
“Still the same old Matt, huh?”
It occurred to him that “the same old Matt” had made a big mistake years ago when he hadn’t “come for her” then. They had gone off to college in separate states, and in those first few years he had dreamed about showing up on her dormitory doorstep in cold New York and spiriting her back to Florida.
“Does the place look familiar?” he asked.
She nodded. “We spent a lot of time here, didn’t we? I remember the summer your folks were building the house.”
“You tried to help. I remember you didn’t know how to wield a hammer, but that never stopped you. I had to take out every nail you pounded.”
“You never told me.”
“I loved watching you try so hard. It was worth it.”
They stared at each other, examining, assessing, wondering, he supposed, how life had interfered so drastically with adolescent dreams.
“Daddy!”
Matt turned so quickly he almost knocked Lacey to the ground. With relief he noted no signs of blood or tears. Just two wet little boys running full tilt to tackle him. He braced himself. Since the day the twins had learned to walk he had been perpetually braced.
He caught them before they could knock over the unbraced Lacey. “Okay, gentlemen, best behavior now.”
“I found it! Found it!” Roman danced around with his shovel clutched in his little fist.
“No, I found it!” Riley wailed. “It was me…me!”
“Who cares,” Matt bellowed. “This isn’t a contest. Somebody found it and now we have two shovels.”
The bellow cleared a nanosecond of air time. Lacey used it well.
“Hi, I’m Lacey. Which one of you is Roman?”
The boys, mouths open and ready to continue the argument, stopped and whirled, squinting in her direction.
“Who’s she?” Riley demanded. “And why’s she want Roman? He done something?”
Not yet. Matt considered warning Lacey to run for her life, but there wasn’t time. “She’s Lacey,” he said, gripping one shoulder apiece so they couldn’t go anywhere. “She’s my friend Lacey. I’ve known her since she was a teenager like Josie.” He caught Lacey’s eye. “Josie used to baby-sit for them.”
“Used to?”
He didn’t want to go into that now. There had been an “incident” just last month and Josie had departed the house with one braid instead of two. Right now, though, he just wanted to impress Lacey, charm her, prove to her that even with twin boys he was still eligible. Hell, he wanted to sweep her out of her impossibly sexy sandals and pretend he didn’t have children at all.
“Josie moved on to other things,” he said succinctly. Like the hairstylist and the local shrink.
Lacey was bending over so she was closer to the boy’s sight line. She had that look on her face that women always got when they first saw his sons. And who could blame her? The boys had faces like angels, and right now in identical blue swimsuits, baby fat still padding their arms and legs, they looked as if they sang soprano in the heavenly choir.
“You’re Roman.” She pointed to the right boy and stared at him. “Uh-huh. I’ve got it now.” She turned her gaze to Riley. “And you’re Riley.”
“Lacey’s a dumb name,” Riley said with a cherubic grin. “Lacey…Lacey…”
Matt watched closely. She didn’t seem disturbed by the escalating chant.
“I always thought so, too,” she said. “But I was stuck with it.”
“Personally I like it,” Matt said, trying to win points. He knew he was going to need them very soon.
“Do you like your name?” Lacey asked Riley.
The little boy paused and shrugged. “Wanna go swimming?”
“Wanna see my crabs?” Roman asked, grabbing for her arm. Riley grabbed for the other one, and between them they began to tug in opposite directions.
“Swimming!” Riley shouted. “I asked first!”
“Crabs!” Roman shouted louder. “I got lots of them. Lots and lots and lots!”
Lacey was beginning to look just the tiniest bit bewildered. Matt stepped in and grabbed the closest boy. Riley wriggled in his death grip, but all the twists and turns in the world couldn’t free him. Matt knew he was fighting for his life. And wasn’t he bigger than they were? For a few years anyway?
“Crabs first,” Matt said firmly. “Then if Lacey wants to go for a swim, we can do that next. All of us. Got it, team?”
“I got crabs, too,” Riley said. “More crabs than Roman!”
Lacey caught Matt’s eye. He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to promise this was unusual and the frenzy would dissipate as soon as the boys got to know her a little. But with the life he led, who had time for lies? He said nothing and hoped for the best.
First they buried her beach towel. Lacey really didn’t think they’d done it on purpose. They were curious, right? Weren’t all children curious? They had plowed through everything on the blanket Matt had carefully spread for her. Her purse, her towel, her sunscreen. They had tried on her sunglasses. So what if one earpiece had snapped off because Riley had bent it back too far? They were cheap enough, right off the rack at Wallaces. She was just glad she hadn’t brought her pricey Oakley Eye Jackets.
The towel disappeared sometime between Roman throwing sand in Riley’s eyes, and Riley dumping Roman’s fiddler crabs in the water. They were small crabs, pretty little crabs really, but with claws that could do some serious nipping. Just to be safe she was still keeping a distance from Riley’s half-filled bucket.
At first she’d supposed that one of the twins had borrowed the vanished towel to dry off, but eventually, after some focused prodding, the story had emerged: they’d used the towel in a contest. Riley said he could bury a towel faster than Roman. Her towel was Riley’s entry in the race.
No big deal. Actually it was Matt’s towel, because she’d only brought her swimsuit and he’d gone inside to get her one. So what if she was chilly when she came out of the water and found it was gone? Matt just went to get her another towel while she shivered a little. And so what if one of the boys had dropped the new one in the sand before she got to it? So she was a little cold, a little, well, grainy. Nothing to worry about.
Now the car keys. That was a different matter. The thing was, the Toyota had a computerized locking system, and getting new k
eys, well that was a major expense. Not to mention that if Matt hadn’t finally found them at the base of a sand dune, she wouldn’t have been able to drive for days until the Toyota dealer could send someone to tow and re-key the car. So yes, she’d been a wee bit upset. But boys were boys, weren’t they? They explored, they experimented and they lost things.
With all the fuss she was surprised how little time she’d had to admire Matt in his swimming trunks. She hadn’t done much baby-sitting as a teenager, but she’d watched television sitcoms enough to know that children played quietly and stayed out of the way when grown-ups had things to talk about. Sadly these boys had not watched the same shows that she had. They were front and center kids, always around, always making demands, always, well, there. By the time Matt suggested she use the outdoor shower to rinse and change while he and the boys took one final dive into the waves, she was amazingly grateful to leave them all behind.
She gathered her things, unobtrusively making sure that nothing else was missing, and headed for the house. The elder Cavanaughs’ house was Cracker style, with a high-pitched tin roof, wide porches along front and back and long windows everywhere. The architecture was Old Florida, a newer, well thought out version of the house that had stood here for a century before a hurricane finally tore it from its foundation. The cypress boards had weathered gracefully, and the effect was more contemporary than swamp rat.
The Cavanaughs had not stinted on the shower. Matt’s mom, Sandra, had wanted to be sure no one tracked in sand. She was a casual, intelligent woman, not inclined to do more housework than necessary. Lacey was sorry that she and Matt’s dad, Tom, were out of town for the month. She liked and admired them.
The shower was open to Lacey’s knees at the bottom, surrounded on all sides by more weathered cypress. There was a high bench to one side, both hot and cold water spigots, an aluminum tub of citrus-scented shower products and a shower massage head. She latched the door, then closed her eyes in blissful anticipation of ridding herself of at least a bushel of sand. She stripped off her bikini.
To the One I Love: That Old Familiar FeelingAn Older ManCaught by a Cowboy Page 3
