For a moment, she hesitated, shifting from foot to foot; then she decided now was the time to push her opinion, though she knew Kell was dead against enlarging his house. “If you built your extension out of your recycled bricks, you would have a classy feature wall.”
Kell stopped moving. He shifted his gaze to her. “I’m not adding an extension. That would put the kitchen right in the center of the house.”
“Yes, but you would have good light if you put in French doors or a wall of glass. I could design the perfect garden outside.”
Trent glanced at Kell. “It’s hard to see a garden growing there when now it’s only dirt and trees and weeds. What do you think?”
Kell’s expression remained inscrutable. “At this stage, I can’t visualize making the biggest kitchen I have ever seen even bigger.”
“When you’ve finished tidying up your garden, you’ll see it. You ought to build a brick wall to hide the bins, too, while you still have all those good reclaimed bricks,” Calli said as she went back to the cottage. There. She had said her piece. He could mull that over or ignore her at will. He owned the house, and so he could decide if he wanted to make real money or waste his time.
* * * *
“Did she try to get money from you?” Trent asked Kell in a stage whisper as he chipped off a corner of a rock to make a good fit. Although he disdained brickwork, he was a true expert. “I heard you say that she thinks everything should be paid for.”
“Don’t worry. I’m onto her little game. Lucky you warned me about what she did to her boyfriend, though,” Kell said, thoroughly amused. He didn’t want Trent to know that he was trying to romance Calli because so far, he wasn’t doing too well.
Trent imagined Kell had a turbo-charged sex life, and Kell happily left him in ignorance about the true extent of his relationships with the various women he met. Women wanted permanency. The moment they began talking about the next weekend, or when he met their best friend, or any sort of future, he came out with a rash of excuses—he couldn’t help himself.
He had no intention of being tied down. He didn’t want to be slotted into a partnership. A woman would hold him back, would resent the hours he spent on his various work projects. If he settled down, he would get complacent, and his ambition would die. He saw that in his married friends, and a man who didn’t learn by example would pay in the end. His plan to join up with a larger conglomeration wouldn’t happen until he had managed to showcase his careful work in the Tudor house.
“This is looking good,” he said about the job Calli had them doing. The paths meandered casually. He could imagine the wood chip base softening the appearance and he knew he would like this sort of garden for his house, not the one next door that he planned to sell, but the one that he would live in eventually…with a wife and children. He blinked, because he hadn’t imagined a family before. A wife hadn’t featured in his thoughts until he had met Calli, but he couldn’t see her with children or with him. She seemed to be marking time rather than looking for a relationship. Last night should be enough for both of them. That’s what she had hinted before he had started acting out of character.
In fact, he rarely ate breakfast with a woman he had slept with the night before. Nor had he ever wasted a Sunday carrying bags of soil or carting rocks for anyone. Sunday was sacred, reserved for family or his down time, the time he worked on his accounts, payments in and payments out, quotes and estimates. Other than romancing the women who accepted him on a temporary basis, his life consisted of his work, because a man didn’t get ahead without putting in the slog.
He considered Calli’s idea of building an extension. Jay hadn’t designed one because Kell decided the house was already large enough to show off his cabinetry skills which, combined with the money he would earn from the flip, was of prime concern to him. However, if he used the recycled bricks and the bricklayer he already had—Trent—the costs wouldn’t be much more than for the roofing, which could also be made from recycled material such as the matching roof tiles from the garage.
A garden out the back, an entertainment area with a view through folding glass doors to the paved courtyard, and he had a plan for outdoor living. This could slot into the project quite well. Maybe. He didn’t want to overprice the old house, but he could always run the idea by Jay.
In the meantime, he and Trent had finished the paths for Calli. By his calculations, they owed her no more time, either of them. When she started on his garden, he would owe her time then, but he didn’t see much more he or Trent could do for her. She had a paving contractor and she could manage the planting herself. He almost regretted that she wouldn’t need him because that would give him a good excuse to hang around.
“Lunch time,” Trent said, interrupting Kell’s musings. “I haven’t had breakfast yet. I suppose you haven’t either.”
“I haven’t even had morning coffee.” Kell did his best to appear long-suffering.
The cat almost blew his cover by springing into his arms the second he walked into the cottage.
* * * *
Calli had arranged salad rolls on the table. She also had scones in the oven, which she slid out when the guys walked in and pulled up chairs. “I know you would prefer a meat pie and a carton of chocolate milk,” she said with mock unconcern while she piled the scones into a breadbasket. “But you can’t invite people to eat a pie with you unless you have made one. I don’t make them because I’m not a very good cook. My one talent is scones, so I hope you like them.”
Kell eyed her, clearly keeping his mouth shut about the rhubarb sponge she had presented last night. “I like scones. They’re food, and I like all food.”
And being just as discreet as he, she didn’t say except for Brussels sprouts. She smiled. “I see you’ve seduced my cat again.”
“This old thing?” Kell indicated the cat that sat perched on his forearm with the top of her head snuggled under his chin, her purring loud enough to rattle Calli’s brain, or that might be her excuse for being so uncertain about Kell.
She thought she could remain casual about sex with him, but the idea of being naked with him one more time had grabbed hold and wouldn’t let go. Never at any time had she honestly desired a man. Possibly, she should be glad of that, but as a twenty-six-year-old woman, she had remained cool about sex. She had dated a few men because, socially, she knew her family background was an appreciable asset. Mentally she had been involved, but physically she’d always been rather disappointed.
She had to admit that she appreciated a man who didn’t pretend to be in love with her so that he could use her as an asset, too. The thought of stripping off a male’s clothes had never occurred to her. Thinking back, she saw her previous relationships as asexual. No one would ever see a night with Kell as such. Sex oozed out his every pore.
“She’s a hussy,” Mr. Sexy said with an indulgent glance at the cat. “She throws herself at me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
Trent chuckled. “You could do the same thing you do when any female throws herself at you.”
“What’s that?” Calli asked, her heart thumping nervously, knowing she had not only thrown herself at him but on top of him.
“Trent has no idea,” Kell said, his expression wary. “You could find out if you threw yourself at me.”
“I can’t imagine anything less likely.” She folded her arms, aghast that she had, and surprised that he didn’t see her as needy and annoying as her last boyfriend had. Instead, he indulged her the same way he indulged the cat.
“Nor can I,” Kell said in an impartial voice. “I’d like a woman gardener chasing me around. Then I would be sure of having a great garden.”
“You can have me if you pay me. That’s what usually happens.” She raised her chin.
“Apparently, that doesn’t work both ways.”
She blushed, actually blushed, again recalling their former conversation about him being naked. “Are you going to try your
lunch or do you need my cat’s opinion first?”
Kell lowered his ear to the vicinity of the cat’s mouth. “What? No tuna in the sandwiches. That’s an outrage. But you have to remember, Cat, that this is people food. We don’t eat tuna every day.” The cat appeared to nod and then leaped down onto the floor, stalking to the couch where she settled, her unblinking gaze aimed at Kell. “She’s trying to understand the strange diets of humans.”
“He even gets cats on his side,” Trent said to Calli. “I haven’t seen that before, but there’s a first time for everything. This salad roll is good. I’m getting used to not having a meat pie every day.”
“You didn’t really?” Calli asked, aghast.
“No, he didn’t really. Some days he would simply have a hamburger. He won’t know himself when he gets used to eating green food as well as brown and yellow food. What are you planning to do this afternoon?” Kell asked her.
“A spot of weeding.”
“You can’t do that on a weekend. How about if I take you to my brother’s house to discuss this extension you think I should build?”
She took a bite of her roll and chewed while she thought. She would like to say no, but she was interested in his brother, the architect, not knowing why one brother would be an architect when the next two were tradesmen. Usually, most children in a family were university educated if the first was. Plus, she thought the extension was a good idea and couldn’t imagine why his brother hadn’t recommended building out. She considered for about three seconds. “Okay.”
Kell smiled. “We’ll leave as soon as you’ve finished eating.”
“Are you going to check with him first to see if he’s at home?”
“He is. He invited me to lunch, or his wife did. She does Sunday lunches for the family.”
“Apparently you declined the invitation, or you wouldn’t have eaten here,” she answered, embarrassed that she had foisted lunch on him without asking if he had other arrangements.
“He hardly ever goes. I would if Vix was my sister-in-law.” Trent took a huge bite of his roll, and used his fingers to cram in the part that didn’t quite fit into his mouth.
Kell eyed him speculatively. “No, you wouldn’t. You would feel as out of place there as I do. Both my brothers are married and week after week they expect me to haul along a date,” he explained to Calli.
“The effort of deciding which woman to take exhausts him,” Trent said, speaking and chewing at the same time. “So, he usually takes two.”
Kell shot Trent a glance of annoyance. “Don’t give Calli the wrong impression of me. I don’t want to have to take a date. I don’t want to ask someone to my brother’s house because whoever I ask then has to pass the family inspection.”
“But you can take me because I’m not a date,” Calli said, rising to her feet and leaning over to collect the empty plates. “I’m the gardener who lives next door. You’ll want to give them a chance to finish eating before we leave.”
“They should be well underway in about an hour. That will give us time to eat scones—and drink coffee.”
“That was a hint, I presume.”
She turned on the coffee machine and put three cups on the hob to warm. Then she collected clean plates, butter, and jam.
“Often Kell doesn’t know which date to take, though,” said Trent, clearly not at all intimidated by Kell’s reproof.
Kell leaned back and sighed. “He’s about to enlighten you with a long running, fairly boring joke about me always having the choice of two.”
“That’s why he’s called Killer. The Lady Killer.”
“Killer.” She shook her head, aiming a rueful smile at Kell. “That night you pounced on me and threw me to the ground…I thought Trent had called out ‘kill her.’ You can see why I was nervous about drugs and thugs. And then the blonde with the Ferrari. Only drug barons drive Ferraris.”
Trent snickered. “That was Vix. It wasn’t her car though, just a loaner until her car was serviced.”
Calli glanced at him, surprised. “I’m missing out. The garage never gives me a Ferrari.”
Kell shrugged. “She’s a careful driver. Maybe all the other loaners were out and that was the only car she could get in a hurry. If I had a Ferrari, I would trust her with it.”
Trent stared at him as if he had lost his mind.
She wondered what that was about while she waited for the coffee machine to squirt the first two cups through. “She must go to a pretty classy mechanic.”
Both of the guys looked blank. She shrugged, mentally. Apparently cars and mechanics were a touchy subject, for reasons unknown to her. After her coffee had puttered into her mug, she sat at the table again, slightly entertained by watching the cat crawl her way back up Kell beneath his sweater. He scarcely winced, but he looked relieved when the cat finally settled under his chin again.
The guys had made a mess of the butter and jam, and she wished she had torn and spread the scones first. She had too many plates and knives and spoons on the table and had made the whole event too cluttered for them. Next time she would do better. That’s what she always said to herself.
Next time. She would do better.
* * * *
Kell removed the cat that sat between his T-shirt and his sweater where she had remained during coffee, and popped her onto the couch again. The little stray and Calli had the same characteristics, both waifs and both gentle with their clawing. “I’ll wander home with Trent and bring back my car so that I can collect you,” he said to Calli.
“I’ll need to do something with my hair, so don’t hurry.”
He couldn’t imagine what she would do with her short hair, but he strolled back home with Trent, heaving a sigh of relief. For various reasons, he didn’t want Calli to know that his sister-in-law was the daughter of one of the richest men in the state. Not that he was embarrassed about Vix or her wealth. He simply didn’t like talking about anyone’s money. That sort of discussion brought out the envy in people and too often snide remarks, which Vix would never deserve.
“What was that rubbish about garages?” Trent asked.
“I don’t think we need to share all our business with Calli.”
Trent shrugged. “I told you what I heard about her. I didn’t say I believed it.”
“Nevertheless.”
Trent shot him a mystified glance and disappeared into the shed. Kell slid into his car and drove next door, parking behind the Merc and the Jag. Before he could get out, Calli arrived, and she climbed in beside him. He reversed out and turned the car onto the street. She had done something fluffy to her hair, which looked good, and he wanted to taste the gloss of her lipstick. Too much gazing at her, and he would grow addicted to her high-boned, elegant face. He stared out at the road.
“Are you going to introduce me as a business associate?”
He laughed. “They would never believe that. It’s Sunday. They know I wouldn’t be driving around with a business associate. They’ll assume you’re my date.”
“So, I’ll have to pass the family inspection.”
“It’s subtle.”
“I hope I don’t notice.”
“I hope you don’t, too.” He gave her a crooked smile. “But you have a smart mouth, and you’ll manage.”
She appeared to mull that before smiling. He might grow addicted to her smile, too, the way her mouth stretched into dimples, which gave the impression of impishness. Suddenly his jeans seemed too tight, and so he concentrated on the road, annoyed he still wanted her. She had gotten to him in the worst way, from his head to his zipper—whoosh.
He parked out the front of Jay’s house and walked her to the code box on the gatepost, punched in the numbers, and led her down the side of the house, past the vehicles sitting in the carport to the gate behind. “Hey,” he called to the group sitting in the pavilion beside the pool.
Luke’s three sons spotted him first and ran over, the youngest, Osc
ar, grabbing his leg and trying to climb up him. “Hi, guys.” With a finger on top of each shiny head, he named his nephews for Calli. “Max, Noah, and Oscar. This is my friend Calli.” He swung up redheaded Oscar and carried the kid on his shoulders over to his brothers and their wives. “Calli,” he said, in answer to the inquiring faces at the table while he dropped Oscar onto the bench seat Luke had just vacated to greet Calli.
Jay also rose to his feet to be introduced, which Kell did speedily, including Sherry, Luke’s wife, and Vix, Jay’s wife.
“There’s plenty of food,” Vix said with her lovely smile, indicating the remains on the table. “I’ll get fresh plates.”
“We’ve eaten. Calli’s here to be inspected.”
Calli stood, a bemused expression on her face. “I didn’t think he would throw me at you quite so suddenly. I’m living next door to him for the next couple of months, and I’m going to help him with his garden. I’m a garden designer.”
“That explains it,” his younger brother Luke said with what might be termed an evil grin. “We’re used to him bringing along his fan club. I can’t remember the last time I saw him with one woman.”
Kell tried frowning at Luke, but his brother gave him a light punch to the shoulder.
“You live next door?” Vix blinked. “I hope you inspected the place for her, Kell. There was a young lad, who Kell was worried about, hanging around.”
Kell pushed his hands into his pockets. “Turned out to be Calli. She’s doing the judge’s garden and living in the place. She had an idea about my house, and I want to run it by Jay.”
“What idea?” Jay asked, pulling up a seat for Calli, who sat, staring around at everyone.
“To use the old bricks to add on a room at the back.”
“I thought you wanted to do as little as possible to the house?”
“She thinks I’ll make a couple of hundred thousand more with the extra space.”
“You’re a garden designer,” Jay said as a statement to Calli, drawing his eyebrows down and glancing at her. “How did you come up with a couple of hundred thousand for an extension? Kell has a four-bedroom house—at the top of the range already, I would have suspected.”
Perfect Scents Page 13
