Sweet Ride!

by Bonnie Edwards

  He grinned around a mouthful and delight buzzed through her. She attempted to ignore it. Now that he'd visited Harry, he'd understand there was no need for him to worry about her motives for being here. There was no need for Jace to stay.

  She ate, trying not to like that he'd considered her needs as well as his own. This was a front. His thoughtfulness, even the food was a phony, polite mask that people used to lure unsuspecting hearts.

  "I've been thinking," Jace said a short while later.

  "Oh, oh," she said. "Sounds ominous."

  Jace ignored her tease. "I don't have to be in Zurich for a while. I've explained the situation and they've been kind enough to give me extra time to sort things out here." He looked disappointed with her sudden wariness. She stilled and waited while he shrugged apologetically. "And you've given up your apartment."

  "So?"

  Jace went on, determined to get her to see the reasonableness of his idea. "We both know Harry well enough to see that taking care of him will be a full-time job." He smiled his most encouraging smile. "We can share duty."

  Her eyes went wide and she reached for her wine. "They won't hold your job indefinitely. It would be foolish to think so and I don't think you're foolish." She sipped like a woman on a desert island.

  "They also looked long and hard for someone with my qualifications. They'll wait."

  "Nothing like a dash of arrogance to help you get by," she said under her breath while she set down her glass.

  He made no reply to that. He knew his position.

  She looked wildly around the room as if seeking an escape. "I assumed you'd leave immediately. After all, you haven't visited in years and... I'm here."

  "Maybe I'll stay because you are. I'm not sure I like you being here with my uncle. I want Harry out of the used car business. There's no security for him." He hesitated at the stricken look on her face.

  "There's nothing personal against you, Kate. I'm sure you're loyal, and you've been at the lot for a long time. But I'm Harry's family and I have only his best interests at heart." He left it unsaid that she was in a clear conflict of interest when it came to Harry's health.

  She grunted in a most unladylike fashion. "Big deal," she said, taking him aback. "Where was his precious family when he was this close to losing the lot seven years ago?" She held her thumb and index finger a millimeter apart for emphasis. "I'll tell you where you were," she said raggedly. "Not here." She hauled in a deep breath, and put down her sandwich.

  Harry had almost lost the lot? Before Jace could accept or deny what she said, she was off and running again.

  "But I was here, Jace, working fourteen-hour days at half pay just to keep the damn place afloat." She swept back her hair. "And I'll do it again, now, if necessary." Her voice went hoarse. "Don't you see? I'm the one who belongs here." She patted her breastbone for emphasis.

  "He never said anything. I'd have come back, if he had."

  "To do what? Convince him to sell, or to help get him back in the black?"

  Damn. He had no answer to that. Seven years was a lifetime ago. He'd been burdened with school loans and couldn't have given Harry what she had. Still, this was now, not then. "I won't leave, Kate. Not until Harry's completely recovered and I'm certain his business is under control," he said as reasonably as he could.

  "I won't leave either. And the business is under control. Mine."

  He touched her slim wrist across the table. She felt warm and supple beneath his fingertips before she yanked her arm away from his touch.

  "Shared duty will make it easier on all of us." He spoke as warmly as he could, hoping to reassure her. "Harry says you're like a daughter to him. It's time the rest of the family got to know you."

  Katie couldn't think of a less appealing way to spend the next few weeks. She wanted to avoid this family thing if at all possible and he'd be forcing her to deal with it. Just her luck the man had a wildly attractive smile, electric blue eyes, coal-black hair and a great body. She wanted to scream and run down the street.

  Jace Donner could easily become the object of a no-holds-barred infatuation.

  She blinked and looked away, trying to collect her wits.

  He sipped at his wine. "It's only for a few weeks," he reassured. "It'll work out, you'll see."

  She understood what he meant by having things under control. His control. His plan. His changes. No way would she allow Jace Donner to change her life.

  She nodded slowly, aware only of the need to buy time. "Okay, we can try. But you do the cooking, I hate it."

  "Sure." He smiled.

  "And you do your own laundry."

  "Okay."

  "And if you want me to do the grocery shopping you'll have to give me a list."

  "Done. There's one on the message board right now."

  She scowled when she saw it. Harry was right; Jace planned everything to the nth degree.

  Yeah, no doubt about it, Jace Donner was just the man to ruin a perfectly good summer.

  Chapter 3

  Jace smiled at the caricature of Harry painted on the side wall of Johnson's Used Cars. The cigar in his uncle's painted hand was over a foot long, not as exaggerated as some might think.

  Harry had about fifty cars in two rows with two more classic beauties in the showroom. Jace whistled in appreciation. Things had changed. Twelve years ago Harry had run a two-bit operation with no more than twenty cars in stock at any one time. What had happened?

  Kate Calhoun had happened. Fourteen-hour days at half pay, she'd said. He heard the crunch of tires on gravel behind him. He turned, and watched Kate's red high heel appear from under the open door of the Mustang. A punch of desire nearly felled him.

  One dainty ankle sported a delicate gold chain. The other red heel appeared as she slid out of the seat. Her legs looked fantastically long and shapely. A woman's legs: smooth, soft-skinned and just the right length to wrap around a man's waist.

  His desire turned as red-hot as her shoes.

  Her long cinnamon-colored hair was tied back in a bunch at the nape of her neck. Her shorts and blouse were less casual than what she'd worn earlier. She looked natty, with creases and pockets and cuffs. And those shoes were enough to send him howling.

  "Hi," he said softly.

  "At least you didn't get lost," she commented coolly. "Bellingham's changed a lot in the last ten years."

  He grinned and nodded. "This lot has changed, too. I remember a bunch of old beaters with flat tires and broken windows parked in the back behind the showroom."

  She laughed and he realized it was the first time he'd heard her. An irresistible chime, her laugh warmed him and brought out a deeper smile.

  She blinked and took a step back as if dismayed at the tug between them . "I remember the beaters." She led the way to the showroom door. "We cleared the place out after I sliced open my hand about six months after I got here. I had the crazy idea that if I polished and waxed the rusty junkers, we might get as much as fifty dollars for them. Harry almost had a stroke when he saw the blood gushing from my palm."

  She stopped walking and looked toward the back of the lot, where it all must have happened. "That's when I realized he..." She shook her head as if to dispel a memory and started walking again.

  Jace reached for her hand and stopped her. He turned her palm up to inspect it for scars. He didn't see any marks on her soft flesh, but that didn't stop him from lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it. Kate drew in a soft breath and pulled her hand out of his reach.

  "It was the other one," she said briskly, turning to unlock the door of the showroom.

  "Sometimes on a Sunday, I hit it lucky and turn a browser into a buyer." She walked through the door, trailing the scent of warm citrus perfume. "A sale when the lot's normally closed is like found money."

  Jace followed the perfume—and her, appreciatively—while Kate disarmed the security system.

  The showroom was smaller than it appeared from the outside. The cars were wedged in
to a vee, their front fenders close to touching. Kate turned on overhead spotlights that showed the cars to their best advantage. The finish on each vehicle was flawless.

  She walked into an office no bigger than a large closet with a desk and a couple of chairs in it, while Jace took a closer look at the Mercedes coupe. For enthusiasts, a classic. For the uninitiated, impressive. He heard a message playing back and turned in time to see Kate's face light up. Must be good news.

  He walked over to her office and watched from the doorway. She jotted down a phone number, and then leaned back across the desk to put her pen back into the coffee can holder. Her shapely legs stretched all the way from the floor to up under her shorts somewhere.

  "Great view," he blurted without thinking. The desire he'd squelched roared back to life. Those legs were going to kill him. Death by lust.

  She darted a sharp glance at him over her shoulder. He pretended a fascination with the view of Mt. Baker, as if he'd never seen it before. She set the answering machine to answer again.

  "Good news?" he asked.

  She nodded and settled against the edge of her desk. "There's a possible buyer in Bellevue for the Mercedes. A lawyer." She grinned sassily. "They love to buy foreign. They think it makes them look more successful."

  "What about bankers? What do they like to drive?"

  "That's easy." She looked mischievous. "Most bankers prefer a conservative image. You know: stability, trust and blue chip."

  So much for telling her how much he'd always wanted a Mercedes coupe. "What about people who drive cherry-red classic Mustang convertibles?" he asked. "What sort of person is that?"

  She laughed and he heard the same feminine chime. His gut clenched as he fought off another punch to his vitals. This visit had just turned complicated.

  He didn't need complicated.

  "The woman who drives that Mustang knows good stock when she sees it." She reached for the telephone and dialed, holding his gaze easily.

  Somehow, some way, Kate Calhoun had decided to give him a chance—a slim one, probably, but still a chance. She was fun to be with when she wasn't imitating a stressed-out porcupine. Her call was answered, so Jace wandered back out into the showroom, keeping half an ear on her conversation.

  She was good, very good. He'd spent summers working here before he and his mother had moved to Seattle. He'd picked up some salesmanship, but Kate—wow. This lawyer must be drooling. He studied the car again. Kate was obviously a woman who recognized good stock. She certainly knew how to sell it.

  He looked outside to the rows of cars again and saw a thriving business with the potential to provide his uncle with a good measure of financial security. Bankers were good at recognizing potential in others. They nurtured it, even manipulated it in some ways. Certainly they exploited it.

  Harry always said Jace had potential, but Jace had listened to Grandfather Donner and chose a conservative, stable career instead. It was for the best, Jace thought, dismissing the used cars. The plans he'd made for his life never would have come true if he'd stayed here with Harry. Sales had been fine for summer jobs, but basing a career on commission income wasn't in his nature. Jace liked a sure thing. Yes, down deep, Jace was as conservative as Harry was unconventional. He sighed and let go of his dream to one day drive a car like this.

  "Ten years is a long time not to visit a place." Kate came up behind him. "Bad memories?"

  "No," he said, surprised at her assumption. His years with Harry had been more like an adventure. Uncle Harry had been any adolescent boy's ideal father figure, loose, permissive and willing to hand over the car keys.

  "My father died when I was fourteen. Afterward we moved in with Harry. When I graduated high school, my mom moved us to Seattle. She got a better job and I went to college."

  Kate nodded silently but seemed to be looking somewhere beyond the car lot, to a place Jace couldn't follow.

  "Where is your mom? I've met her a few times and she's lovely. Harry wouldn't let me call her when he landed in the hospital."

  He nodded in agreement about Harry's stubborn refusal to let his sister know about his emergency. "She's on her honeymoon. Harry swore me to secrecy, too. He didn't want Mom to cut her honeymoon short. She'll hit the roof when she finds out."

  "Does she still live in Seattle?"

  "No, she and Ben will be retiring to the San Diego area when they return. That won't be for a couple months yet. Ben's always wanted to see Europe and that takes time."

  He noticed the subject of the conversation had stayed with him. "How about you? Were you born and raised here?"

  "I've lived in Bellingham for eight years. I couldn't wait to get out of Seattle."

  "You moved here with your family?" Harry had told him she'd been here for eight years, too.

  "No." She shook her head and turned toward the door. She opened it and held it for him to walk through.

  She was only twenty-six. By any calculation she'd been a kid when Harry took her on. She'd been too young, in Jace's estimation, to be out in the world on her own. He walked out into the brilliant sunshine. Silently, she set the alarm system and locked the door behind them.

  "I'll see you back at the house," she said blandly, obviously not planning to enlighten him further about her family. She climbed into her car and drove away without another word or glance.

  Jace watched her go. When Kate Calhoun wanted to shut a man out, she meant business.

  * * *

  The next day was Monday and by noon, Katie was fussing and tucking a blanket around Harry's feet as he settled into his favorite armchair. In spite of what the doctor said, she didn't think Harry should be sitting up for this long. After all, he'd only been home an hour.

  "I've sold the blue Mercedes," she said. He wouldn't want to hear her true thoughts.

  Harry shifted and tossed the blanket onto the bed. "Cut the crap, Katie."

  "What crap?"

  "The nurse routine," he growled and reached into his shirt pocket. He pulled out a half-smoked cigar.

  "Oh, no you don't," she snapped, and took it from him. The old reprobate. Killing himself without a care in the world. He practiced his hangdog expression until she wanted to slap it right off his face. "Stop that, Harry."

  "What'd you think of my nephew?" he asked, ignoring her as usual.

  Not a subject she wanted to talk about.

  Jace's idea to convert the dining room into a bedroom for Harry had taken them hours the evening before. She had kept Jace busy and he'd had no opportunity to ask personal questions. He was far too interested in her as it was.

  "What do I think of Jace?" she repeated, stalling for time. When she'd wanted to pick Harry up at the hospital this morning she'd found Jace had already left to get him. "He's pushy."

  Harry snorted.

  She shrugged. "It's not as if you're on your deathbed. I mean, our lives will go back to normal, right?" She shouldn't have made that a question. She needed to be more positive about all of this.

  The dining room overlooked the side yard and the house next door. The drapes and pocket doors separating the living room were closed to give Harry his privacy.

  "Jace says I should start taking it easier."

  "Retire, you mean. But I just can't see you doing that. Sitting around all day with nothing to do will drive you crazy. If you'd do what the doctors say instead of arguing with them, you could be back at work in no time." She opened the drapes.

  "Not that you shouldn't slow the pace a little," she continued. "I can put more time in. Do more of the paperwork. You don't need to do all of that yourself." She turned and faced him, proud that she'd kept any pleading out of her tone.

  "I figured you'd need help at the lot." Harry studied the floor. "That's why I called him."

  "What are you saying?" The sunlight she'd let into the room seemed to disappear.

  Harry shifted uncomfortably. His soft blue eyes, that must have melted quite a few hearts, once upon a time, looked suspiciously moist. Then he bl
inked. "I called Jace for you."

  "You're just going to lie here and dream up new ways to irritate me, aren't you? If I didn't like you so much, I'd bop you one right on the nose."

  He sighed dramatically. "The lot's too much for one person, Katie." Harry's gravelly voice quavered a little. But not enough. Old faker.

  "We've got McElroy, and the new lot boy." But it was a lost cause. The proof was on Harry's face.

  "Jace will start first thing in the morning."

  "Damn it, Harry, I said I'd put more time in myself; isn't that enough? Isn't it enough that I moved in here?"

  "You're not looking at this clearly. McElroy is about as reliable as a tomcat on the loose. We can never depend on him. That didn't matter much when I was there with you. But now..." Harry's voice trailed off.

  "Now, you want me to deal with McElroy and train a new man? Are you nuts?" She took a deep breath and searched for calm. "What's the point? Jace will be gone in a couple of weeks. I can handle things for that long."

  He patted her hand. She snatched it away.

  "Humor me, will ya, kid?"

  Maybe Jace wouldn't like the idea of working with Katie any more than she liked living in the same house with him. Maybe selling used cars was beneath Jace Donner. She hoped so.

  "Speak of the devil," she muttered, as Jace walked in.

  He leaned nonchalantly against the windowsill, the sunlight dancing across his straight black hair.

  He was dressed in leather athletic shoes, sinfully faded blue jeans, and an old T-shirt that said "Life Should Be A Beer Commercial." He didn't much look like a banker. Not with abs like his and a waist that tight. Some feminine place inside her warmed.

  "What's up?" he asked, looking from one to the other of them.

  Katie spoke first. "Harry wants us to work at the lot together. He thinks I can't handle the place on my own." She didn't care if she sounded indignant.

  A deep light burned in Jace's eyes. He caught her gaze with a tantalizing directness and her belly dropped low to that warm place. Dear Lord, he was a whole lot of man.