by Joanne Rock
He’d had the most incredible two days of his life on board with Josie. But the morning after the storm, he couldn’t offer her much beyond a lift home, since sailing was no longer an option with the front heading south. The evening before, after the stunningly intense sex on board the boat, they’d moved to the hotel. All night they’d indulged each other, communicating solely through touches and tastes, and yet somehow remaining in perfect concord. Then, by the gray light of dawn, they’d agreed to catch a flight back to Cape Cod.
“Any luck getting through to Chase?” he asked Josie as they disembarked.
She pulled a wheeled overnight bag behind her, the one they’d bought in Nantucket just the day before yesterday. Somewhere in that bag lurked a silver sequined outfit that had driven him wild, but her black blazer and gray gabardine pants didn’t give any hint of that playful side of her. He took the bag from her as they walked toward a waving driver from a local car service. The benefit of a tiny airport was that they could be off the plane and under way quickly.
“Yes. He says he’ll meet us at your parents’ place.” She tucked her cell phone back into her purse and made a face, indicating she thought that was presumptuous on the guy’s part. “Is that okay?”
Keith paid the driver in advance and left him to handle the bags while he got the door of a big Lincoln Town Car for Josie.
“It’s fine. My mother’s always glad to have people in the house.”
“Does she know my cousin?” Josie frowned as she slid into the backseat. “My very distant cousin, I might add?”
“Sure. He graduated with Jack. In such a small town—with a small high school—you get to know everybody.” Keith settled in beside her and pulled the door shut just as the driver fired up the engine.
“Well, I appreciate you letting us meet there, but I’ll try to convince him to take me over to the marina so I can see his boat firsthand and finish up the deal I was trying to negotiate with him.” She peered out the window, studying the scenery as they headed out toward the coast, where Keith had grown up.
Their driver took a phone call on his Bluetooth, his voice inordinately loud as he discussed the details of a future fare with a dispatcher or boss. Keith used the noise as a cover to speak more privately to Josie.
“For what it’s worth, I hope you know I’m glad that you didn’t board the right vessel that night.” He had the sense he was losing her today. Not just because they were back on the mainland, but also because she’d retreated to her work clothes. She’d been glued to her PDA every moment of the flight that hadn’t restricted electronic devices.
The joking, role-playing temptress he’d gotten to know on the boat seemed like another woman entirely.
She glanced up at him now as she tucked the PDA into her bag. “Me, too,” she admitted. “It was good for me to get away from work for a while. I’m glad you talked me into a vacation.”
Not exactly a declaration of undying devotion, but he didn’t know what he’d expected.
“Look, I know you want to keep this thing light between us and you’re committed to your career and all that. But I can’t help thinking there might be more to us than just a fling.” He put his cards on the table, not caring that the driver of the Town Car could glean a boatload of local gossip if he paid any attention. Besides the conversation on the Bluetooth, the kid had an earpiece to an iPod in one ear, and Keith could hear the rap tunes all the way in the back.
If the guy could decipher their conversation through all that noise, he deserved a second career as a superspy, although his job as a driver wouldn’t last long if he insisted on skirting the road rules with the headphones.
“Umm.” Josie glanced meaningfully at the kid and lowered her voice. “I don’t think that’s wise, especially since we never got around to that discussion that was brewing yesterday. You know, about the social circles in my past?”
“We can talk about it if you want, but I already told you that doesn’t matter to me. I know enough about you to realize that I want to know you better.”
She was already shaking her head, clearly wanting to interrupt. But he brushed a finger over her lips to quiet her.
“Josie, my business is based out of Boston and so is yours. We’re going back to the same town after we tie up loose ends in Chatham. I think it’s going to be tough to stay out of one another’s way and just forget this ever happened. Frankly, I don’t want to.” He kept his voice low, too, more for her sake than concern about the driver, who was keeping time to a bass beat, thumping his hands on the steering wheel.
She bit her lip. Worried her teeth along the plump softness. He tried not to be insulted that the decision remained so difficult for her after everything they’d shared.
“I don’t want to make trouble for you, and I’m nervous about meeting with Chase as it is. Can we wait and talk later? Maybe I can buy you dinner before I head back to Boston tonight.”
“Yes to dinner, but you stand no chance in the battle for the check.” He gave her knee a playful squeeze to soften the he-man stance, from which there was no backing down. “That’s just fair warning.”
The car listed as the driver took the turn up the long driveway to Keith’s parents’ house.
“I can’t exactly cook for you the way you did for me,” she protested. “I have no kitchen in town so I’m at a distinct disadvantage….” She trailed off as they reached the sprawling, cedar-sided home his father had custom built in the mid-eighties. “Wow. I’ve seen it in a decorating magazine before, but it’s even more impressive in person. And the gardens have all grown in so beautifully.”
While her attention was divided, Keith took full advantage.
“So I’ll drive us back to Boston tonight after your meeting with Chase. We can take your car and grab dinner on the way. You’d really be helping me out, since I took my boat down here for Ryan’s engagement party and my car is back in Boston.”
“Sure.” She nodded absentmindedly. “I hate driving at night. Look at the all the peaks and windows. I love shingle-style homes. It’s got the atmosphere of a seaside cottage, blending right into the landscape, and yet it’s so huge.” She kept up a running commentary about the home as the driver stopped the car and brought their bags to the door.
Keith tipped him while Josie admired a hedge of some bright red bushes and complimented the ground cover between the flagstones, of all things. Apparently, meeting her on a boat, he hadn’t been properly introduced to her decorator side. He’d bet next year’s profits that his mom was going to adore her.
The thought put a smile on his face until he realized how inordinately happy the notion made him. He was starting to care about Josie a lot in a short amount of time. Giving anyone that much power, so quickly, put him on edge.
That concerned him, since she’d agreed to share a ride back to Boston only because she didn’t like driving at night and was distracted by the house. Memories of her biting her lip in indecision returned.
But all those issues evaporated temporarily when the main door to his parents’ house opened. Expecting to see his mother’s sleek blonde bob and welcoming arms, he wasn’t prepared for a man’s lanky frame leaning against the doorjamb, dressed head to toe in black designer fare.
Chase Freeman had taken it upon himself to welcome them in person.
“Hello, beautiful.” He reached to embrace Josie, kissing her on the cheek with a warmth that didn’t appear one bit familial from where Keith was standing. “Sorry I missed you the other night.”
He held her a fraction too long, making the hair stand up on Keith’s neck like a damn dog’s.
It helped somewhat that Josie’s expression on the other side of Chase’s shoulder suggested she found the man odious in the extreme. But Keith resented the fact that she felt the need to work for anyone she didn’t like.
“Keith?” The soft, feminine voice of his mother came from somewhere within the house.
“We’re here, Mom,” he called, tempted to bulldoze right thro
ugh Freeman, except that the guy hadn’t fully released Josie yet. “Sorry for the short notice. And, Chase? Man? Your cousin would like to breathe again sometime today.”
Still the guy took his time letting her go, before making a big production of presenting her with a folded piece of paper.
“The contract?” Josie took it and unfolded it.
“Plus a check. Half now, half on completion, right?” He tugged her hair as if she were an eight-year-old, bugging Keith more than a little.
Thankfully, his mother made her way into the foyer and by her presence alone forced the jerk-off to show some manners. Introductions were made all around and, as Keith had predicted, Josie hit upon one of Colleen Murphy’s favorite subjects right away—the house. His mother warmed to her immediately, insisting on showing the decorator her favorite features and rooms, leaving Keith in the hall with Chase Freeman, who promptly whipped out the latest-model cell phone from his pocket and began texting while he conversed with Keith.
“Keith, my man. Do I sense some possessiveness for my Josie? I thought you were going to light me up for that hug.” His fingers clicked madly over the tiny keyboard, his focus on the screen.
Jerk. If Josie wasn’t counting on the guy as a client, Keith would bounce him out of the house right now.
He’d never had a real beef with him before, but now that he thought about it, Chase had always been kind of full of himself when he’d shown up at the Murphys’ for a game of football or a weekend sailboat race. And now he was supposedly some big-deal investment banker.
Calling her “his” Josie?
Screw it. Keith didn’t care if Josie wasn’t fully on board with the plan to continue dating. He had just made it a high priority to convince her. He wanted her and he was staking his claim now, starting with this guy.
“And I thought she was a relative of yours.” Keith dragged their bags inside the house and closed the front door. “Do you try to cop a feel with all your cousins?”
“Only the hot ones.” Freeman took the opportunity to grin at him, looking up from his texting for the first time.
Bad. Mistake.
“About that.” Keith yanked the phone out of the guy’s hands and set it on the table near the door to be certain he had the idiot’s full attention. “She’s officially on the list of people you don’t touch. Are we clear? I may be the most civil of my brothers, but not so much when it comes to her.”
“Damn, man. You could have clued me in before you let me put my foot in my mouth.” Chase held up his hands, surrendering the cause. “How was I to know you and Josie were an item?”
“She walked in here with me, didn’t she?” Keith wondered how some people got through the day being so clueless.
Then again, he wondered where all the macho posturing came from on his part, since that wasn’t usually his style.
He backed up a step, giving himself some space to cool off. At the same time, he heard a throat clear on the opposite side of the large, sunny family room that dominated the Murphy home beyond the foyer.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Danny, Keith’s younger brother and the next in birth order, sauntered toward them across a blue-and-white braided wool rug, a football under one arm. “Although I gotta say you two make a cute couple.”
“At least I’m not bumming off my parents between Navy stints and tossing the pigskin in the backyard on a weekday like some teenage delinquent.” Keith stretched his arms out at a right angle to his body, his forefingers and thumbs forming the tripod that was the universal receiver’s stance to call for the ball.
Danny lifted his arm to fire a pass, putting some serious zip on the ball even though they were indoors and a wall of windows fanned out behind his brother.
Chase leaped behind Keith to back him up, apparently reluctant to see a window shatter. Fortunately, Keith had hands like glue, snagging the ball neatly out of the air even though he had to coax every extra millimeter out of his vertical leap to manage the feat. He didn’t have time to savor the athletic victory, however, since Danny wasn’t done firing bullets.
“The advantage of hanging out at the family home base is knowing better than to bring a new girlfriend around when an ex-girlfriend is due to arrive with Dad at any minute.” Dan snagged a baseball cap from a high bookshelf and jammed it on backward as he stalked over to retrieve his ball. He paused near one of the tall windows he’d almost taken out a minute earlier. “In fact, I think that’s Ray Blaylock and his daughter in the driveway with Dad now.”
Ah, crap.
Keith hoped in vain that Dan was just messing with him. As he peered out the window, he could see his father had just emerged from his silver Mercedes as Ray—his occasional business partner—parked a sleek blue BMW behind him. Ray Blaylock owned a casino chain and had been working on Keith’s father to open resorts near a handful of the Blaylock casinos.
A deal that didn’t matter to Keith one way or another. Except that Ray was grooming his only child to take over the casino business one day. And that meant Keith’s ex—the spoiled jet-setter, Brooke—was unfolding her long legs from the front seat of the Beamer even now.
UPSTAIRS, JOSIE FOLLOWED Keith’s mother past another en suite bedroom—one of at least six she’d seen in the mammoth house, which had to be at least ten thousand square feet. But the sprawling seaside mansion wasn’t just another spectacle built to parade a fat bottom line, the way many exclusive properties were. The Murphy home looked just like that—a home. And Josie had quickly realized the driving force behind the gracious warmth of the place was her elegant and amiable tour guide.
Any worry she’d had about meeting Keith’s mom had dissipated after a conversation about ostrich feather fringe—a small thing that Josie had quickly picked up on after seeing the quirky detail in multiple rooms, used in a variety of ways. While the extra bedrooms—presumably rooms for her sons when they were living at home, or when they chose to return for visits—exhibited a decidedly male vibe, with strong colors and clean lines, the rest of the house came alive with sophisticated and romantic touches that were never overdone. An elaborate, imported chandelier hung over an antique bed that was deliberately shabby chic with a white cotton duvet. The ostrich-feather trim wavered on a nightstand lamp in the bedroom or wove through a pillow appliqué in the family area. A rescued mahogany bar in the game room stood comfortably beside a modern billiard table and a dartboard. An autographed black-and-white photo of a thirties’ pinup girl featured a curvy blonde peeking mischievously over an ostrich-feather fan. Clearly, Colleen Murphy had managed to work in a nod to the feminine even in the most masculine of rooms.
Now, as Josie followed her hostess toward the east end of the house, she realized she’d rather spend the day enjoying the creative touches that made the Murphy home so charming than speak with Chase about his boat. How interesting to meet a woman who’d successfully navigated the same world of wealth that had led Josie’s parents to a life of self-indulgence.
“It’s my ‘mom cave,’” Colleen Murphy confided as she led Josie into a spacious office with panoramic views of the Atlantic and the Monomoy Islands. “Of course, I decorated it before they called it that. But even ten years ago I knew this room would be just for me.”
Josie sucked in a breath at the perfectly framed windows draped in layers of sheer curtains and peach-colored Italian silk. But more than the view was spectacular here—it was the manifestation of a beautiful space.
“You’ve got such an eye for design.” Josie took in the prints of mandalas from all over the world on the wall opposite the windows, a kaleidoscope of color and pattern. The hardwood floor had been painted, cottage style, except for the stenciled words outlining the conversation area and the space around the antique writing desk. “There’s so much to see in here. What is the stenciled message?”
Josie tried to follow the calligraphy, but wasn’t sure where the words began.
“It’s a mishmash,” Colleen admitted, pointing to the various areas.
“A little Walt Whitman. Some Gospel according to Matthew. And a long quote from the poet Rilke around the perimeter. They’re mostly for me. Some people post affirmations on their mirror, but I wanted mine to be more permanent.”
Affirmations?
Josie nearly did a double take to think this woman with five hunky, successful sons—six if she counted the Finnish hockey player Keith had mentioned—needed affirmations of any kind. Colleen Murphy was married to a self-made man who’d pioneered a global resort conglomerate from humble beginnings as the owner of a clam shack on Cape Cod. But Josie tamped down her surprise. She, of all people, should know that just because a life appeared glamorous or well-adjusted on the outside didn’t mean the inner life matched up. How long had Josie spent trying to distance herself from her family’s ostentatious wealth, never comfortable with the life they chose to lead?
“‘I celebrate myself, and sing myself,’” she read aloud, spotting the Whitman poem. The quote from Matthew looped around a stone fireplace tucked in the corner. “‘From where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.’ I can see where you’d enjoy reading those words every day.”
Colleen moved closer to view the room—the mom cave that amounted to a highly personalized living space—from Josie’s perspective.
“I never get tired of them.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind one ear, where a simple diamond stud glittered in the sunlight. “I used to like coming up here at night if Robert was still at work and the boys had tired me out during the day. It helped to remember my treasure was here, in this home, even though Keith had tried to gut a hundred-pound fish in my kitchen or Danny had used the chef’s-grade knife sharpener on his hockey skates and nearly lost a finger in the process.”
Josie laughed. “They must have been a handful.”
“They still are,” she murmured, leaning to peek out the bank of windows. “In fact, I see the potential for another Murphy gaffe in the driveway, and I wonder if you might do me a favor?”
Curious, Josie moved to join Colleen by the windows. “Don’t tell me they went fishing while we were touring the house.”