“Don’t mention it. Guess I’m a sucker for the underdog.”
“A softie.” It had surprised the heck out of him when she came to his defense. He expected her to pile on and wouldn’t have blamed her if she did. “Just wanted you to know I noticed and appreciated.”
“You’re welcome. I’d have done the same for anyone.”
Anyone she used to be married to? Or any guy she once had a soft spot for? Speaking of guys... “How’s Chandler? Have you heard from him?”
“No.” All of a sudden she was so intent on her omelet that she wouldn’t look up. She just concentrated on moving the food around her plate.
“Is it unusual for you to go a while without talking?”
“We understand each other if that’s what you’re asking.”
Actually it wasn’t and she hadn’t answered the question. Besides not making eye contact, she now looked as if she was the kind of designer who used substandard materials and charged the client for top-of-the-line things. And got caught.
“What’s going on, Rose?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re a terrible liar. For what it’s worth, that’s a quality I admire since I was lied to for most of my life. But there’s something you’re not telling me. Something about you and Chandler.” He hadn’t pushed her much about the motivation behind her trip. But a thought occurred to him and the idea made him want to put his fist through a wall. “When you were gone... Did you go to Vegas and marry Chandler?”
That got her to look at him and her jaw dropped. “No!”
He was relieved to hear that. “Then what’s going on? And don’t say nothing.”
She put her fork down and pushed the plate away with half the omelet uneaten. “If you must know, I did go to see Chandler.”
“Booty call?” Again those were words he wanted back. But not as much as he wanted to know the answer.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re irritatingly persistent? Since you won’t let it go, I broke up with him.” There was annoyance in her tone but not hurt.
Before he did a triumphant arm pump he wanted to be sure he’d heard right. “So that’s where you went? To break up with him in person?”
“Yes.”
Right after they’d kissed. There had to be a connection and he would bet everything he had it was because that kiss had meant something to her. But she’d been back for a while now and hadn’t said a word about this. Why?
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“You’re not entitled to details of my personal life.” There was a defensive note in her voice. “Why would I tell you?”
Because the kiss had meant something to him and he wanted to know if he was the only one. “It feels as if you’re keeping it a secret. And you don’t have to. Not from me.”
She toyed with the handle of her coffee mug. “You’re the last person I wanted to share this information with.”
“Why? You were very happy to share the fact that you and Chandler were moving in the matrimony direction.” He met her gaze. “And then we kissed.”
She blew out a long breath. “The fact is that I don’t trust you, Linc. That hasn’t changed. I thought I made myself clear on the subject.”
“Haven’t we gotten past that?”
“Look, I believe you’re sorry about what happened. But then—”
“What?”
“Like you said. There was that kiss.” Her eyes darkened with doubt. For herself? Or him?
“And?” he persisted. “I dare you to say it didn’t mean anything. I know differently. And you broke things off with him.”
“Like you said. I can’t lie. The kiss was nice,” she admitted.
“But?” God, he hated that word.
“I can’t forget that you betrayed me once and distrusting you is the best defense I have against it happening again.”
He wanted to put his fist through a wall and this time it had nothing to do with Chandler. This was all about him. “Rose, I would never deliberately hurt you.”
“I know. Not deliberately. I get that. You might not mean to but it could happen.”
“So you’re not willing to take a risk? Even though you enjoyed it as much as I did?”
“I like chili cheese fries, too, but that doesn’t mean they’re good for me. Besides, you and I want different things. Let’s just leave it at that.” She stood up and took her plate to the sink. “I have work to do.”
Linc sat there for a long time thinking about what she’d just said. On the upside, she and Chandler were over. Also on the upside, regarding her reaffirmation that she didn’t trust him, she’d only said let’s leave it at that. A far cry from slamming the door in his face.
And yet, of all the things she could have said to tick him off, not trusting him was by far the winner. He wanted more from her—exactly what, he wasn’t sure. And it didn’t really matter because there wasn’t a chance in hell of more ever happening. But there was a chance of earning back her faith in him. He promised himself that when her work in Blackwater Lake was done she would damn well trust him again.
He was going to make that happen or die trying.
Chapter Eleven
It was a thrift-store kind of day.
After her talk with Linc over the breakfast he’d cooked, Rose had practically barricaded herself in the office and worked on the computer until her eyes ached. It was time to treat herself and get some fresh air, somewhere away from the tantalizingly masculine and intoxicatingly tempting scent of that man. Linc was going to be with Alex all day and left the car for her. She loved poking through second-hand stores and there was one in Blackwater Lake. That’s where she was headed.
If only she could head her thoughts away from Linc. The man defied rational thought, at least for her. He’d seemed happy about her breakup with Chandler and that made her nervous. When she got nervous she pushed back. Hence her bringing up the trust issue again when she no longer believed that he’d married her just to get what he wanted. But that didn’t mean the pain of it was canceled out. Putting her heart in his hands wasn’t a smart move.
Since she’d furnished her own apartment from the thrift store she wanted to see what she could find for him. After pulling into the parking lot, she found a space, then exited the car.
The large building was painted barn-red and had white trim. Probably in another life it had been a barn, but now there was a lot to look at by the big, double-wide entrance doors. Half barrels used as flowerpots dripped with pink, purple, red and yellow blooms. A big, old wagon wheel was propped up against the outside wall. Motivational sayings painted on pieces of metal were hanging there. The Best Antiques Are Old Friends. Live, Love, Laugh. Home Is Where the Heart Is.
“Wonder if Linc would like that,” she mumbled, looking things over.
“What was that?”
Rose hadn’t noticed anyone standing there and now saw an older woman with short blond hair wearing a denim shirt with the thrift-store logo on it. “Sorry. I was just talking to myself.”
“I’ve never done that before,” the woman teased. “My husband, Brewster, says it’s because I like to hear myself talk.” She held out her hand. “Agnes Smith. Folks call me Aggie.”
“Nice to meet you. Rose Tucker,” she said, shaking the other woman’s hand.
“You’re new in town.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m not a permanent resident. Just here for a job.”
“What is it you do?” the older woman asked.
“I’m an interior designer. Lincoln Hart hired me to decorate his new condominium.”
“I hear the units in that complex up by Black Mountain are pretty fancy.”
“It’s
a wonderful floor plan. Well thought out and lots of square footage. Not so fancy yet, though.” Rose shrugged. “It needs paint, cupboards, countertops, flooring and fixtures. And that’s before furnishings.”
Aggie glanced over her shoulder at the shadowy interior of the store filled with things people no longer had a use for. “Can’t imagine what you’re doing here then. Seems to me you’re in the wrong place. Jumping the gun, you might say.”
“I’m actually looking for inspiration. Trying to get ideas. And I think Linc is an old soul.”
“Haven’t met the man yet, so I couldn’t say. But looking doesn’t cost anything except time. If you’ll excuse me, I’m expecting a truck that was picking up donations. It’s my job to figure out what to do with it all.”
“Of course. Nice to meet you, Aggie.”
“Likewise.” The older woman smiled, then headed toward what was probably the back of the building.
Rose decided to start on the first aisle and do a quick overview of what was there, making notes for anything worth another look. After checking out two thirds of the inventory, she concluded a lot of it fell into the category of “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” But there were quite a few pieces of glassware that were noteworthy and might just interest collectors. She liked a couple of pictures of the lake and mountains, and since Linc approved of her taste, he might like them, too.
The final third of the store was furniture—dining room tables and chairs, some matching, some not so much. China cabinets, dressers and vanities. A pretty young woman with strawberry-blond hair and brown eyes was intently studying a twin-sized brass headboard.
Rose took a long look at the graceful lines and delicate detail. “That’s really a nice piece.”
“I thought so, too.” The woman gave her a friendly smile. “I promised my little girl a pretty bed. Maybe for Christmas.”
Rose studied the headboard a little more. “How old is she?”
“Eight. I’ve been tucking away whatever extra cash I can that doesn’t go back into my business.”
“I’m a business owner, too, so believe me, I understand. What do you do?”
“A florist. My aunt left the shop on Main Street to me. Every Bloomin’ Thing. I’m Faith Connelly, by the way.”
“Rose Tucker. For what it’s worth, I think your daughter...”
“Phoebe,” she said.
“Phoebe... Adorable name. She’ll love it.”
“I think so, too. And I can kill two birds with one stone. Maybe that’s nothing more than justification for the expenditure but the money the thrift store makes goes to the Sunshine Fund.”
“I saw the sign outside that said all proceeds go to the fund,” Rose said. “What is it?”
“A Blackwater Lake thing.” Faith smiled and there was a lot of civic pride in her expression. “Mayor Goodwin-McKnight started it to give a helping hand to anyone down on their luck. People donate used items to the thrift store but cash is also gratefully accepted. And there are potluck fund-raising events, usually scheduled around a holiday like Halloween, Thanksgiving or Christmas. Or any other occasion the mayor can come up with for a party.”
“That’s very cool.” Rose knew how it felt to be down on her luck. Her mom could have used help more than once and if working for Linc didn’t jump-start her business Rose wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t need a boost from an organization like the Sunshine Fund.
“Yeah, it is. Community spirit here in this town is something special.” The young woman smiled. “Speaking of community spirit, I forgot to ask. I haven’t heard about a new business opening up here. What do you do?”
“Oh, mine isn’t actually here. I’m from Texas. I was hired for a job in Blackwater Lake.” And the promise of more work, she thought, mentally crossing her fingers. “I’m an interior designer.”
“Do you work for the Lincoln Hart?” Faith’s warm brown eyes grew very wide.
“Yes. Although I don’t think there’s more than one. The world isn’t ready for two of him.” A single Linc was more than she could handle. “How did you know?”
“I put two and two together. People in town are talking about him buying that condo at the base of the mountain and bringing his own interior designer from Dallas.” Faith shrugged. “Being honest, the people doing the talking are women.”
“Ah.” Rose was surprised that her feelings about this information were decidedly not neutral.
“I haven’t met him yet, so maybe he’s not a flower-buying kind of guy.”
“He used to be.”
“What was that?” the other woman asked.
“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” The memory rushed back so strong it threw Rose off balance. Ten years ago, almost every time she saw him, he brought her flowers—everything from a single rose to bouquets so big she could barely get her arms around them. “So he’s not a flower buyer?”
“Since I haven’t met him yet, I’d have to say no. But others have. He and Alex McKnight are business partners, but you probably already know that.”
“Yes.” She confirmed the information because it was obviously common knowledge. Normally she didn’t talk about clients because it wasn’t professional. A reputation for loose lips could kill a business like hers. There was that trust issue again.
“Is he as good-looking as I’ve heard?”
“Well, that’s hard to say.” Rose wanted to fan herself every time he walked into a room, but revealing that would be indiscreet. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as they say.”
“True.” Faith nodded thoughtfully. “Also true is the fact that single women in Blackwater Lake are quivering with excitement at having a wealthy bachelor take up residence in our little corner of Montana. A man who, rumor says, is not hard on the eyes.”
“Are you single?” The information about women made Rose a little tense. That was her best explanation for that question popping out of her mouth.
“Yes.” Faith frowned. “I mean no. Actually let me rephrase in a more coherent sentence. I’m not married. Divorced, to put a finer point on it. And considering my horrible history with men, well... To mangle a quote from Scarlett O’Hara and Gone with the Wind, ‘as God is my witness, I’ll never fall in love again.’”
Not that she wished a bad relationship on anyone, but Rose relaxed. “Seems to me there’s also a song with a similar theme.”
“It’s my motto and I’m sticking to it,” Faith vowed. “But other ladies in this town have different ideas and they all include your Lincoln Hart.”
“He’s not mine, actually.” Although he kind of was until the divorce was done. “And he’s no doubt used to all the attention.”
“Probably so if the rumors about money and looks are true. But someone said they Googled him and couldn’t find anything about his dating history. He’s either very discreet or gay.”
Rose knew for a fact that the latter wasn’t true and she couldn’t deny a sliver of satisfaction that he couldn’t be connected to one special woman. “I have nothing to share.”
“That’s okay. I understand. And I’m sure there’s more than one determined woman in this town who will use her assets to unlock his secrets.” Faith looked at her watch. “Shoot, I have to get going. And I need to see if Aggie will hold this for me if I leave a deposit.” She took the tag on the headboard. “Enjoy your stay in Blackwater Lake. I really enjoyed talking to you.”
Rose mumbled something appropriate because her mind was racing. She liked Faith and it was nice talking to her, except for the part about women looking to hook up with Linc. It bothered her and she realized two things simultaneously. Her anger toward him was gone and she couldn’t hide behind it any more. The second thing was even more troubling.
The idea of women throwing themselves at Linc and him catching them was deeply disturbing. That was the cla
ssic definition of jealousy. A prerequisite for that feeling was caring about someone.
That meant she cared about Linc. Now what was she going to do? She had to get this job moving faster and herself out of Blackwater Lake before there was hell to pay.
* * *
“Tell me again why we’re here.”
The “here” in Rose’s question was the Harvest Café and Linc had brought her as part of his trust offensive. “You’ve been working very hard on my behalf and I’m not easy.”
“That’s not breaking news.” The words were mocking but her mouth turned up at the corners.
“I just wanted to say thank you for putting up with me. Dinner is my way of doing that.”
They were standing by the Please Wait to be Seated sign in the restaurant on Main Street in Blackwater Lake. It was a weeknight and the place was crowded. Although Linc had one, a person didn’t need a master’s degree in business to see that this eating establishment was successful. The summer tourist season was just around the corner and it was likely to be even more hectic in here.
Rose looked up at him, a question in her eyes. “Ellie told you to take me to dinner, didn’t she?”
“No.” Her dubious attitude didn’t bother him. She would see he was a man of his word. A regular Boy Scout. “When I mentioned to her that I wanted to do this for my patient and creative decorator she said she had no idea that I was so sensitive to another person’s needs.”
“Go, Ellie.” Rose laughed.
“So, relax. Stand down. I have no ulterior motive.” Other than to win her trust.
A pretty brunette carrying menus walked up to them. She was wearing a name tag that read Maggie.
“Table for two?”
“Yes.”
“Right this way. Follow me.”
Linc put his hand to the small of Rose’s back. The gesture was automatic, some would call it gentlemanly. Both might be true. For him it was an excuse to touch her. The downside was that he wanted to do so much more.
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