Kevin forced himself to wait before confronting Gracie. He wanted to mull over this latest turn of events, consider the wistful expression on his aunt’s face when she’d talked about her lost dream.
He waited, he mulled until after dinner, then he mulled some more. By midnight, he’d worked up a pretty good head of steam. In fact, as he drove to Gracie’s, he was mad enough to tear that old Victorian down all by himself, board by board, to prevent this idiotic scheme from ever happening.
To his satisfaction, the lights at Gracie’s were out. He figured catching her off guard and half asleep was probably a very good idea. She had a sneaky habit of getting her way when she was operating on all cylinders.
Of course, he hadn’t taken into account the effect of her opening the door, looking all sleepy and tousled and sexy as the dickens. It took a little of the edge off his anger and did dangerous things to his body. Lust slammed through him like a freight train.
The oversize T-shirt she was wearing could have covered a tackle for the Washington Redskins, but in his mind’s eye every curve was revealed. The blasted thing ended above her knees…way above her knees. She was barefooted and at some point she’d painted bright red, kick-ass polish on her toenails. His gaze locked on those feet, and the desire to sweep her into his arms and haul her right back to her bedroom was almost uncontrollable. Almost.
“Kevin?”
Her sleepy, sexy, confused voice snapped him back to reality. He wasn’t here to take her to bed. He was here to get a few things straight. He pushed past her and went inside. He aimed straight for a chair, since sitting next to her on the room’s only other furniture—a cozy little sofa—seemed like a very risky idea.
“We have to talk.”
She eyed him cautiously. “Is this going to be a long talk or do you intend to yell, then leave once you’ve had your say?”
“It’s hard to say. Why?”
“I could use some coffee, if you actually want to have a conversation.”
“Fine. Make the coffee,” he said, and trailed after her into the kitchen.
He sat at the kitchen table and watched her efficient movements. Whenever a little bolt of lust slammed through him, he worked at controlling it. He was getting pretty good with so much practice, he concluded. By the same token, he was crankier than ever by the time she finally sat down with a mug of coffee in hand.
“What’s up?” she inquired, regarding him with bright eyes and a fully alert expression.
Obviously he’d given her way too long to gather her composure. They should have had this out when she was half asleep. It might have gone more smoothly.
“What the hell kind of arm-twisting did you use on my aunt?” he demanded bluntly.
“I take it you’ve heard about her idea that she and I go into business together.”
“Damn right I’ve heard,” he said, shoving his chair back and starting to pace. He paused beside her and scowled down into her upturned face. “Of all the sneaky, underhanded things to do, waiting until I was out of town and then taking advantage of an old lady.”
“I didn’t take advantage of anyone,” she said quietly. “She invited me over. She told me the house was hers, something which you might have mentioned, by the way. As for the rest, it was her idea. Ask her.”
“Well, of course she would say that. She probably thinks it was her idea. You’re the one who planted it, though. She’d certainly never have come up with it on her own.”
She regarded him calmly. “Actually, I told her it was a bad idea.”
His gaze narrowed. Aunt Delia certainly hadn’t mentioned that. “Why?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t approve.”
“Well, I don’t.” He regarded her warily. “So we’re agreed that nothing will come of this lame-brained idea?”
Perversely, Gracie shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I’ve been thinking it over. She really seems to want to be involved. She knows people around here. She could probably get things done faster than I could, pull the necessary permits, stuff like that. It could work.”
“It will not work!” he shouted. “It will be a disaster. She’s eighty-seven years old, for heaven’s sake. It will kill her.”
“Her choice,” Gracie reminded him.
“No, by God, it’s my choice, and I say that this will not happen.” He slammed his fist into the wall for emphasis, then ruefully rubbed his knuckles.
“Did that help?” Gracie inquired.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His gaze narrowed. “Gracie, you’re not taking me seriously. I will not allow my aunt to get involved in this.”
“Admittedly I don’t know your aunt very well, but she has all her faculties, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” he conceded grudgingly. This was the second time today someone had reminded him that his aunt could outwit the armed forces of any three nations combined.
“And she still has energy to spare?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
“The problem, is…” His voice trailed off. “I don’t know what the problem is exactly. It’s just a bad idea.”
“Your opinion.”
“Whose money is going into this?”
“Mine.”
“Who’s going to arrange for all the work?”
“She can point me in the right direction, but I will.”
“Then what exactly is my aunt contributing to this arrangement?”
“The house, moral support, whatever she feels like contributing, I suppose. We didn’t discuss that.”
“What happens the first time you disagree over the color of the paint or the wallpaper?”
“We’ll discuss it like rational adults.”
“I’ll bet. Have you ever tried to argue with an old woman with the grit of General Patton?”
“Not really,” Gracie said, then grinned. “This will be the first time, though, that she’s met her match.”
He stared at her and sighed. “I really hate this idea.”
“It will work,” she promised.
“And if it doesn’t?”
“It will.”
He threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. Two against one wouldn’t be bad odds under normal circumstances, but the two were Gracie and his aunt. He might as well have been up against Atilla the Hun and his troops. “Okay, fine. Go for it,” he muttered. “Just don’t expect me to climb ladders, hang wallpaper, or fix leaky pipes.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gracie assured him. “You’d probably just mess it up anyway.”
He opened his mouth, clearly ready to snap out a retort, but then he backed down. “You’re not getting me to fall into that trap,” he said.
“Too bad. I guess I’ll just have to be sneakier about it next time.”
“You’re a menace. You know that, don’t you? First you trick a sweet old lady into going along with your crazy scheme and now you’ve almost got me snookered into it, too.”
She regarded him innocently. “Do I really?”
He cupped her chin, forced her to meet his gaze. “Gracie, I don’t want my aunt’s heart broken.”
“How on earth would that happen?”
“For some crazy reason, she’s viewing this as the fulfillment of a dream. I don’t want it to turn into a nightmare.”
“It won’t,” Gracie assured him. “You should have seen her yesterday. She was so excited she could barely sit still. Her ideas were tumbling out almost as fast as mine. I think we’ll make a great team.”
“Why is it then that when I think of the two of you working on this together, the first thing that comes to mind is Lucy and Ethel?”
Gracie grinned. “They might have been wacky and unorthodox, but in every I Love Lucy episode I ever saw they got the job done.”
Kevin only recalled the chaos.
18
The sound of hammers echoed through the house. Dust was swirling in the air and it was hotter
than a sauna, but Gracie stared around at the mess with satisfaction. It was happening. It was actually happening. A few weeks from now she would have her bed-and-breakfast inn.
For the past two weeks she and Delia had engaged in a whirlwind of activity. She’d tried as much as possible to steer clear of Kevin, who continued to regard the whole scheme as a personal betrayal. Still, he hadn’t tried to interfere, and for that she was grateful.
She’d left hammering out the legal details to Delia. The woman was amazing. She had the grit and determination of someone a quarter of her age. Besides, she wasn’t the least bit cowed by Kevin’s disapproval. Gracie, for all of her staunch defense of the plan, hated that she was going against his wishes. It would have been much more fun if he’d been an enthusiastic participant.
“Gracie, you’re wool-gathering again,” Delia chided. Her expression turned sympathetic. “Is it Kevin? Hasn’t he come around yet?”
“No. He’s still furious about this. Haven’t you been able to tell from his attitude at home?”
“I haven’t really worried about it. I know him. He’ll get over it in his own good time.”
“Will he? You said yourself he’s a stubborn man.”
“I exaggerated. He can be won over if you put your mind to it.”
“I don’t have time to put my mind to it. This place is taking up every waking second. When you start a project, you set a grueling schedule.”
“I’m old. I don’t have time to spare,” Delia retorted. “Now, stop worrying about Kevin. He’ll come around. In the meantime, we have to decide on the wallpaper.”
There were enough samples to paper a dozen houses, with some left over for the entire city of Richmond.
“Where’d you get all of this?” Gracie asked, daunted by the task.
“I put Abby on it. She made a few calls.”
Gracie glanced up as the girl came in from the kitchen where she’d had her head poked under the sink so she could see exactly how the plumber was repairing the pipes. There were smudges of dirt on her face and her pigtails were askew, but she looked ecstatic. She had turned up the first day of the renovations and every day since. Since no one else seemed to object to her presence, including Kevin, Gracie had welcomed her help. Still, she worried that this wasn’t the best place for Abby to be spending her time.
“Abby, are you sure this is how you want to spend your summer vacation? Wouldn’t you rather be playing with your friends?” Gracie asked.
“No way. You should have seen the gunk in the pipes. It was totally gross.”
“And you liked that?” Gracie asked doubtfully.
“Sure.” She peered at the wallpaper samples. “Have you picked any yet?”
“None,” Delia said with a feigned note of disgust. “I can’t get Gracie to concentrate.”
Abby shot a knowing look at Gracie. “You’re thinking about Uncle Kevin again, aren’t you?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what she’s doing,” Delia replied before Gracie could open her mouth.
“I’ll bet he’d come over if we asked him,” Abby said. “I just know he’s dying of curiosity.”
“I’m not asking him to come over here,” Gracie said adamantly. “I told him he wouldn’t have to get involved.”
“Maybe he wants to get involved,” Abby suggested. “Maybe he just doesn’t know how, now that he’s made such a fuss about it.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Delia said.
“I am not calling him,” Gracie repeated.
“I will,” Abby volunteered.
“You’re not calling him, either,” Gracie told her.
She caught the look Delia and Abby exchanged. “You’re not to call, either, Delia.”
The pair sighed. “If you say so, dear,” Delia said. “Then let’s get to these samples.”
They had narrowed them down to twenty by lunchtime. Delia had insisted that they stop every day and have a decent meal.
“To keep our strength up,” she insisted.
Gracie suspected the truth was she liked going out to restaurants so she could catch a glimpse of her friends and update them on the progress being made on the bed-and-breakfast. The whole town was buzzing about it. Delia had reported with glee that half of them seemed to be taking sides on whether Delia had lost her mind.
“I’ll show ’em,” she vowed. “Wait until they want to book rooms for their relatives and we don’t have a single one available.”
“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” Gracie warned as they slid into a booth at the Beachside Cafe, Delia’s favorite choice for lunch. “We haven’t gotten the first reservation yet.”
“We will. Just wait until that advertising kicks in.”
“What advertising?” Gracie grumbled. “Who’s had time to sit down and think up a halfway decent ad campaign?”
“Not to worry,” Delia reassured her. “I put Helen to work on that. She’ll be by this afternoon with some ideas.”
Gracie regarded her in amazement. “Is there anything you haven’t thought of?”
“Not so far,” Delia replied with satisfaction.
Jessie finally made her way to their table to take their order. “How’s the work going?”
“Moving right along,” Delia told her. “Start telling your out-of-town customers that next time they visit, they’ll have to try the new bed-and-breakfast.”
“Does this place have a name yet?” the waitress asked.
Delia and Gracie exchanged a look.
“Oh, dear,” Delia murmured.
“I know,” Abby chimed in. “What about Riverview?”
“Not bad,” Gracie conceded. “How about something a little more historical? Wakefield Inn, for instance, named after Washington’s birthplace.”
“If you have to explain what it’s named after, what’s the point?” Abby asked.
“What about Southern Comfort?” Delia asked.
Gracie regarded her wryly. “I think that’s taken. Besides, I don’t want to start a court battle with an alcoholic beverage over trademark infringement.”
“Maybe you all should have lunch. Seems to me like you could use a little brain food before you tackle this name business,” Jessie said.
“I think she has a point,” Gracie said. “I’ll have a chef’s salad.”
“A cheeseburger for me,” Abby said. “And a chocolate shake.”
Delia groaned. “Oh, to be young again. Bring me a tuna sandwich and a glass of iced tea.” She glanced at the door and smiled. “And set another place, while you’re at it.”
Gracie followed the direction of her gaze and saw Kevin heading their way.
“Ladies,” he said politely, his gaze skimming over the three of them.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Delia said. “Sit. Scoot over, Gracie, and make room for him.”
Gracie didn’t scoot. Kevin remained standing, his expression growing more amused by the second. Finally she sighed and moved over.
“Join us,” she said.
He grinned at her weary tone. “If you insist, especially since you’re being so gracious about it.”
He slid in next to her, deliberately crowding her. Gracie felt the shockwaves from the brush of his thigh all the way down to her toes. It made her realize just how much she’d been missing his kisses.
“You should come see the house, Uncle Kevin. It’s totally awesome,” Abby reported. “Dad came by twice. Mama’s been by, too.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss,” Delia chided him. “You might as well get used to the idea. It’s a done deal.”
Kevin sighed. “I know. I’ve seen the bills.”
Gracie’s gaze shot to his. “What do you mean you’ve seen the bills? They’re supposed to be coming to me.”
“You see, darlin’. That’s the problem. You’re a stranger and you’re a woman. Now that’s never bothered me, but to some contractors that’s two strikes against you. They’ve hedged their bets by sen
ding everything to me.”
“Well, you can just pass them right on to me,” she said. “And I’ll speak to the contractors. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”
“Oh, I suspect it will,” he said, retrieving the bundle of envelopes from his pocket and handing them over. “By the way, you’re being overcharged for the electrical work. I could speak to Eddie, straighten it out.”
Gracie gritted her teeth. “I’ll speak to Eddie.”
“Just trying to help.”
“Thanks all the same.”
“You might want to reconsider that bid on the wallpapering, too. I know it’s the lowest, but I’ve seen the work in a couple of other places. It’s shoddy. They save on paper by not bothering to match the print.”
“I appreciate your opinion,” she said tightly.
“Anytime.”
Fortunately, their food came just then so Gracie could concentrate on cutting all the little strips of ham and turkey and cheese into tiny, bite-size chunks, then pushing them around until they were buried beneath the lettuce.
“Anything wrong, darlin?” Kevin inquired, his expression as innocent as a babe’s.
She scowled at him. “What could possibly be wrong?”
“That’s what I asked.”
“You expected this to happen, didn’t you?” she accused. “You knew that I was going to be up against some tight-knit, old boy’s network and that every one of these contractors would assume you were footing the bill or, at the very least, in charge of the whole renovation.” Her gaze narrowed. “Or did you see to it that they got that impression? Have you been talking to them behind my back?”
“I told you I was steering clear of this project.”
“I know what you said. What are you doing?”
That innocent mask returned. “Darlin’, you know I never work unless I have to.”
“That’s a bunch of bull and you know it, Kevin Daniels. I’m on to you.”
“Really? I’ll bet you haven’t figured out what I’m thinking right this second.”
With his eyes blazing pure lust, Gracie didn’t have any trouble at all guessing exactly what was on his mind. However, with two very fascinated onlookers—more if she counted the rest of the restaurant’s patrons—she couldn’t spell it out to him.
Amazing Gracie Page 20
