Still dumbfounded by Mildred’s quick goodbye to phone her psychic, Kristin carried her bag to the living room, then started the dishes.
The lunacy of what she was about to do hit her full force as she stared at the plates she and Zach had used.
Her life was a soap opera. She’d been hurt in a break-in, her shop had burned—possibly at the hands of an arsonist, she had dealings with a woman who consulted a psychic and now she was flying off to stay at an ex-lover’s beach house. All she needed was a case of amnesia and an evil twin for a starring role in a daytime drama.
Sighing, Kristin recalled the new message she’d left on Rachel’s answering machine. Her sister was going to hit the roof.
The flight to the Outer Banks was smooth and uneventful, and true to Zach’s foreman’s word, Zach’s dark blue, canvas-topped Jeep was waiting in the short-term parking lot when they arrived. Now as they climbed the weathered gray steps to the wraparound deck of his equally weathered house on stilts, Kristin couldn’t keep a smile from her lips. Striding to the railing, she inhaled deeply while the salt breeze tossed her hair. She took in everything at once—the sea, the sand, the blue sky. Even the faint, but not unpleasant smell of shellfish.
There was a freedom here she’d never felt before, an energy, yet peace, she’d never experienced. Probably because she was so far away from her troubles. Some distance out, white caps rose and swelled, then raced to shore and broke on the beach in a frothy spray. Overhead, noisy gulls wheeled and banked, venting their displeasure as a fireball sun slowly descended to the water.
“It’s paradise,” she murmured, smiling back at him. “And it’s yours?”
Zach chuckled as he unlocked the door and carried their bags inside the house. “Well, I generally share the sand and water, but the house is mine as long as I pay the rent.” He lifted his voice to be heard outside. “You should hang out on the deck for a while and enjoy the sunset. They’re beautiful, but they happen in the blink of an eye. If you get busy inside, you’ll miss it.”
Kristin turned toward the bank of windows fronting the deck as Zach cranked them open and spoke through the screens. “I have to run out and pick up some groceries. I hadn’t planned on coming back for another two weeks, so there’s not much in my refrigerator.”
Her spirits sank a little. “Aren’t you staying for the sunset?”
He came back out, his keys in one hand, a can of insect repellent in the other. “Not tonight. It’s getting late, and I still have a dozen things to take care of before I close my eyes.”
“Oh. Okay.” She sent him a questioning look when he handed her the bug spray.
“Even paradise has its drawbacks. I’m pretty sure they sprayed for mosquitoes while I was gone, but keep that handy just in case. Now—is takeout okay for dinner?”
“Sure. Or I could fix something.”
“Uh-uh. You’re here for rest and relaxation. Pizza? Chinese? Burgers? What’s your pleasure? I’d rather save a seafood dinner for a night when we’ll have more time to enjoy it.”
He was in a hurry. In fact, he looked ready to leap off the deck to the sand-speckled blacktop below. It was a side of him she’d never seen, almost as though returning home had triggered some kind of driven behavior.
“Pizza with everything but anchovies?” she suggested, recalling that he liked it that way, too.
“Sounds good. I’ll be back in a half hour—forty-five minutes, tops. Feel free to take the tour. I put your things in the room across the hall from the bathroom.” Then he was down the steps and, seconds later, driving away.
Kristin blinked, feeling a bit like a hit-and-run victim.
Dragging a deck chair close to the bleached railing, she curled into it and watched the sun burn its way to the ocean, laying a shimmering trail of red and gold over the water. It truly was beautiful. Just the same, she felt less warmed by the spectacle than she’d expected to be, because Zach wasn’t there to share it with her. And that bothered her.
Compared to the exterior, the interior of the house was a cozy surprise. Though it was nothing like her décor at home, a comfortable couch and loveseat in nubby beige sat in an L-shaped arrangement, piled with throw pillows in turquoise, coral and ivory, and flanked by glass-topped wooden parson’s tables and no-nonsense lamps. A deck of playing cards sat on the matching coffee table in front of the sofa, and conch shells in assorted sizes adorned the entertainment center that held his TV, stereo and VCR. Framed seascapes hung on the white wood-paneled walls.
Slipping off her sneakers, Kristin crossed the pale Berber carpet to the open kitchen where oak cupboards, white appliances and black-and-gray mottled countertops nearly gleamed. Behind a bar with stools, a round oak table with four chairs looked out through another bank of windows to the deck. She smiled, deciding that he was a pretty fair housekeeper.
She’d settled into the guest room, and was just setting the table when Zach came inside juggling a large pizza box and two bags full of groceries. Instantly, the anxiety she’d managed to ignore while she acclimated herself to her surroundings was back.
“I see you found the dishes.”
“You gave me permission to snoop,” she said, shrugging. “I snooped.”
“Good.” He put the pizza and bags in the middle of the table. “Is your room okay? I rent this place furnished for the most part, so the decorating choices aren’t my own.” He grinned. “Not that I’d be able to come up with anything better.”
“My room’s fine. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Did you look around downstairs?” When she shook her head, he said, “There’s a washer and dryer down there, and just outside the garage, there’s another deck and an outdoor shower. Use whatever you want. Mi casa es su casa.”
At least for the next few days, she thought as a funny feeling collected in her stomach. She finished placing silverware on their napkins, then with a brief glance at him, she nodded at the bags on the table. “Any chance you bought milk?”
“Of course. We always drink milk with pizza.”
Kristin went still. Zach did, too, as the familiarity of that phrase hung in the air. Then he pulled the gallon jug out of the bag, said, “I’ll fill our glasses,” and the moment was over.
Conversation flowed easily during dinner, primarily because they discussed Zach’s reason for rushing home—a disgruntled client who’d threatened to break her contract if Zach didn’t personally oversee the building of her new beach house.
“But if she’s already signed the contract, she doesn’t really have a leg to stand on, does she?”
“Technically, no. But I don’t like strong-arming clients.”
“So what are you going to do?” Kristin asked, knowing he’d only allotted three days to smooth over the matter.
“Talk to her, reassure her…give her my word that the second I finish Etta’s renovations, I’ll be on the job. She’s extremely well-to-do and has influential friends. I want her recommending Davis Construction to all of them.” He drank from his glass, then grinned wryly. “I guess she’s entitled to gripe a little. Her deal was with me. It’s understandable that she’d want me at the site now and then.”
Zach’s gaze fell to the gold necklace lying against the white knit top Kristin had worn on their flight. “By the way, I like your sailboat.”
“Thanks,” she said with a faint smile. “It was a gift from my mom. After her diagnosis, she gave one to me and one to Rachel. She said whenever we felt low, to just lift it to our lips and blow a little more air into our sails, and we’d be okay.”
“Been doing that a lot lately, huh?”
He’d never know how much, or that often, he was the cause. “Yep.”
When dinner was through and they’d straightened up the kitchen, Kristin sat on the couch flicking through channels on the TV, her awkwardness returning. Being under the same roof with him was doable when they were talking about things that had no bearing on their relationship—rather, former relationship—or if she had bus
y work to do. But now…
Now, she just wanted to get ready for bed. But with Zach on the phone with his foreman in the office next to the bathroom, the idea of undressing and showering put her on edge. Adding to her discomfort, she was having second thoughts about his driving to a construction trailer to sleep when it was nearly eleven o’clock. How could she ask him to do that when he’d been so kind and generous—first at the fire, and now here?
She straightened abruptly on the couch as the office door shut, and Zach carried a duffel bag into the living room.
“Okay, I’m out of here,” he said offhandedly. “You still have my business card with all the phone numbers, right?”
“Yes, it’s in my purse.” That’s where she’d found his home phone number to leave on Rachel’s answering machine. In her rush to pack, she’d forgotten to call her sister back at the office. Or maybe she’d put it out of her mind because she knew Rachel wouldn’t react well to this trip.
“Okay, then. Call if you need anything. And lock up after me. The people in the other houses are mostly vacationing families, so there’s probably nothing to worry about, but lock up and close the blinds in your room anyway. I’ve already taken care of the rest of them.”
That did it. Kristin came to her feet. She couldn’t stay here surrounded by strangers, not after everything she’d been through in the past few days. “Wait,” she called as he reached the door.
He turned. “Did I forget something?”
“No, I…I don’t want you to go.”
Deep furrows lined his brow and he hesitated for a long moment. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “There’s no good reason for you to leave. This is your home.”
Slowly, he slid the door’s deadbolt in place, then turned back to her. “Okay. Then I think I’ll get some shut-eye. I’ll be out of here tomorrow before you wake up, but I’ll phone sometime in the afternoon to see how you’re doing. Call my cell phone if you need to reach me in the meantime.”
“I’ll do that, thanks.”
“Okay. Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
Kristin watched him disappear into the hall and listened for the sound of his door closing, her nerves no more settled now than if he’d gone. Then she grabbed a dorm shirt, fresh undies and a bottle of peach-scented body wash, and hurried into the bathroom.
Zach lay in bed, listening to the shower spray, aware of a clean, sweet fragrance that wasn’t his soap wafting under his closed door…aware of the knot in his gut and his burgeoning arousal.
He fought with the stack of pillows beneath his head, then threw two of them on the floor and clicked off the muted TV sitting atop his bureau. He must have been insane to insist that she stay with him after she’d told him she and Chad were just friends. Not that he wanted to see her with the pretentious blowhard, but he’d depended on her relationship with Chad to keep her visit uncomplicated. Now, he’d be fighting his body’s natural impulses the entire time she was here.
Scowling, Zach amended his thought. All right, he would’ve had to fight those impulses anyway. But it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier if he’d believed she was promised to someone else.
He heard her leave the bathroom and pad across the hall to the guest room, then softly shut the door.
Images from the past rolled through Zach’s mind, waking up every blood vessel he owned, and leaving him with the disturbing knowledge that the attraction he’d felt for her as a teenager was even more powerful now that they were adults.
Planning to do anything about it? a little voice in his mind asked.
He almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. No, he didn’t plan on doing anything about it. Smart men assuaged their physical needs without involvement or emotional baggage. And he’d been smart for a long time.
The ringing of the phone shattered Zach’s sleep, and he fumbled for it beside his bed. He swore when he knocked his wristwatch on the floor. Snaring the receiver, he rolled onto his back again, his head sinking gratefully into his pillow. Though he cleared his throat, his voice was still thick with sleep when he spoke.
“Hello?”
The sharp, feminine voice on the line brought him quickly awake. “Where’s my sister?”
“I—” Zach squinted at the lighted dial on his bedside clock. It was just breaking day. “Rachel?”
“Do you have anyone else’s sister there with you?”
Zach swore under his breath, kicked back the sheet and rolled to a sitting position on the mattress. He rubbed the cleft between his brows, a headache already building. “Rachel, why don’t I just give the phone to Kris and let the two of you talk?” And what the hell time was it in Arizona anyway? Didn’t the woman sleep?
“Not just yet. We need to get something straight first.”
“And what would that be?” he asked testily, pushing to his feet.
“Just this—Kristin’s had enough pain because of you. She doesn’t need any more. If you hurt her again, Zach, I swear—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ll hunt me down like the dog I am. Well, forgive the hell out of me for not digging my own grave and throwing myself in long ago. For the record, I didn’t exactly tap-dance my way through life after we broke up, either. But that probably never occurred to you.”
“To be frank, it did occur to me. But I was too busy trying to piece my sister back together and take care of my mother to give it much thought.”
“I’ll get Kristin,” he said coldly. “Delightful talking to you, as always.”
Zach yanked open his door and strode across the hall, getting more ticked off by the moment. He was physically and mentally beat, hadn’t slept worth a damn, and he didn’t need a personal attack at 5:00 a.m. to start his day. He rapped at Kristin’s door, waited for her hesitant, “Come in,” then went inside.
The faint half light edging the miniblinds outlined her soft curves as she sat amid tangled sheets and pillows. For just a second, Zach felt himself sinking into the vulnerable intimacy of early morning, stirred by the sensual smells of perfume and feminine sleep.
Then he remembered the cordless phone he carried like an acid-tongued serpent in his hand, and went to her bedside. “It’s for you,” he said flatly. “Rachel the Compassionate. I’m going for a swim.”
Kristin took the phone, her pulse kicking at the shadowy sight of him in only a pair of dark shorts. Even his obvious anger and the strained conversation she’d overheard couldn’t keep her attention from his broad shoulders and muscular legs.
Drawing a deep breath, she spoke into the phone. “Hi.”
To Kristin’s relief, Rachel’s tone was soft and concerned. “Kris, I’m so sorry about your beautiful shop.”
“Me, too.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Rebuild, maybe. I’m not sure yet. That’s why I’m here—to get some focus and perspective.”
Too late, Kristin realized that her reply had opened the door to a discussion she didn’t want to have. She closed her eyes.
Rachel didn’t mince words about Kristin’s staying with Zach when there was a perfectly beautiful guest room available to her in Arizona. By the time Kristin insisted that Rachel go to bed and get some sleep, she was too keyed up to go back to sleep herself.
Pulling on a T-shirt and sweatpants, she went to the kitchen to brew coffee for breakfast, then opened the blinds fronting the Atlantic. Zach was just leaving the choppy surf, the dark swim trunks he wore hugging his lean hips. Her heart took off running again, and a tug of arousal pulled behind her navel. There was no denying her attraction to him, despite their past. Hard work and Carolina sunshine had created a beautifully put-together man.
She was pouring coffee into two thick mugs when he surprised her by coming up the basement steps from the garage.
“Just me,” he said, wiping a towel over his chest, then draping it around his neck. “I showered downstairs.”
Kristin put a cup of coffee in his hand, trying not t
o look at the black hair covering his chest. “I’m sorry,” she said as he leaned back against the bar and took a tentative sip.
His brows raised. “About what?”
“Rachel. She told me what she said to you.”
“Yeah, well…it was a bad time for her back then.” He paused. “It was a bad time for both of you.”
Kristin nodded, not really wanting to revisit a past she couldn’t change. “I checked the fridge. Do you want breakfast?”
“No, but thanks for making coffee. It’s great.” In spite of her changing the subject, he returned to the previous topic. “I really am sorry about your mom. I always liked her. I wish you’d told me back then, Kris.”
Sometimes she wished she had, too. It might have made a difference in their lives. Although…would telling him sooner have prevented his betraying her after some other misunderstanding? She had no way of knowing.
Sliding onto one of the barstools, she cupped her hands around her mug. “My mom always liked you, too.” Well, she had until Zach had torn her younger daughter’s heart to shreds.
“I know, and I was grateful. She never looked at me the way other people did—like I had a switchblade in my boot and a pint of whiskey in my back pocket.”
Kristin met his eyes. “Zach, a lot of that was in your mind. I think most people felt sorry for you.”
“Wonderful. Pity for Hap Davis’s welfare kid. Somehow that’s worse.” With an annoyed frown, he finished his coffee, then walked to the sink to rinse his cup. “I’d better change and get to work. Dan and I are meeting with Mrs. Hart at nine, and I need to take care of a few things before we talk with her.”
“Then I’ll see you back here later?”
Bachelor in Blue Jeans Page 9
