Finally Elaine sighed. “I’m not interested in having a roommate.”
“Honestly, neither am I, but I’m making you a good offer. You’ve got a heck of a lot more money than I do at the moment—”
“That money,” she interrupted him, then stopped and pressed her lips together for a moment. Then her voice went low. “That money has to last me for a while. It’s all I have.”
It’s all she had? It looked like plenty, but there was a lot this girl wasn’t telling him, and no matter what her financial situation was, his family still owed her six grand.
“Listen, I want to get you your money back, and I don’t want to be a jerk about this, but I don’t have the time to figure out another place to go right now. Tyler is getting married this weekend, so if we could just share for like, four days, maybe five, then I can figure something else out. But right now I’m going on hour thirty-eight with no sleep and I just want a place to lie down. Stay or go, but give me some time to work out an alternative.”
Her sigh was quiet, a puff of white against the cold air inside the car. The pause hung in the air next to it.
“OK,” she finally answered. “I guess that would be OK. Maybe. But just for a couple of days, and then you have to leave, or get me my rent back. Agreed?”
A warmth passed over him. It was a surprising sensation. What was that? Relief?
Sure, because if she stayed, then he didn’t have to feel guilty about kicking her out, and if he stayed, he didn’t have to bother finding another place in the next hour. It was all about taking the path of least resistance. This was the easiest thing, and it would work. For the short term, anyway. She wouldn’t take up much room and didn’t seem to be much of a talker.
“Agreed,” he said.
This could work.
Or . . . it might be a terrible mistake.
Chapter 5
GRANT CONNELLY HAD MADE A terrible mistake. Elaine Masters was quiet, sure, and he appreciated that. Most women he knew were interested in sharing all the details of their lives, the more insignificant the better, but his housemate was just the opposite. She said almost nothing. In the past day and a half, she’d read, murmured into her phone, and did something with knitting needles and yarn which in no way produced anything recognizable and was typically followed by her mumbled cursing and the sound of something soft being tossed into the trash basket.
None of that bothered him, though.
What bothered him was the yoga.
The yoga that she’d been doing for over an hour now, wearing a miniscule top and clingy pants. He tried not to watch her but the house just wasn’t that big. Unless he was in the bathroom or his bedroom, he could see her. The stretching and the balancing and the arching. Heaven help him, the arching! She was as bendy as a pole dancer and ten times sexier because she seemed so unaware of it.
“Are those my panties?” Her voice broke into his illicit thoughts.
He’d come into the living room to say a pair of her underpants had accidentally ended up with his laundry, then he’d gotten stupidly distracted by her ass. It wasn’t his fault, though. He’d walked in and there it was, perky and round and way up in the air. Come on. What was he supposed to do except appreciate the view?
She stood up and he glanced down at his hand where his thumb was rubbing absently over the silky pink material. God damn it. She was going to think he was a pervert.
He cleared his throat. “Um, I guess so. They were in the dryer, and they sure as hell aren’t mine.” He held them out, dangling the lacy bit on his fingertip, and she snatched them from his hand.
“Thanks. Are you heading out?” She nodded at the coat he had draped over his arm.
“What? Oh, yeah. I’m meeting my brother for lunch.”
She glanced out the window at the blowing snow. “Is he picking you up?”
“No, I was going to walk. It’s not that far.”
She pressed a thumb against her lower lip. She did that a lot, and he wished she wouldn’t, because all it did was draw his attention to her mouth. As if he needed another reason to notice her mouth. It was lush and distracting, and every time he looked at it he wondered what she’d taste like. He’d dreamt about her last night, and that was before he’d seen the yoga.
Maybe he’d just been in the jungle for too long, or maybe he was feeling latent rebound effects from being emasculated by Miranda. Women didn’t normally affect him this way. Oh, he appreciated them for sure, but he’d never had to work too hard to capture one’s notice. He’d never much cared if he succeeded or not either. Miranda hadn’t broken his heart, she’d only wounded his pride. But something about Elaine Masters was pulling him in deep, and it was clear she wanted none of it.
This morning he’d accidentally bumped up against her in the kitchen and she’d looked ready to castrate him with a cleaver. She was closed for business, no doubt about that, and it was probably for the best. She carried a secret along with that bag full of money, and whatever it was, an ex-husband or something just this side of illegal, he didn’t want to be a part of it no matter how flexible and bendy she was.
“Do you want to take my car?” she said, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil. “It’s about twenty degrees below zero out there.”
He pulled on his coat. “Are you sure? I might not be back for a couple of hours.”
Elaine gave a tight smile. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere, but if you could fill up my tank, that would be nice.”
A frat-boy joke about filling up her tank popped into his mind, but since she’d just caught him ogling her ass and fondling her panties, he decided to keep that to himself.
“Yeah, sure. Absolutely. And thanks,” he said.
“No problem. Keys are on the counter. Have fun with your brother.” With that, she walked away, ponytail swinging, spandex clinging, backside round and perfect.
Damn. Elaine Masters was about the cutest thing Grant had ever laid eyes on. He needed to get that rent money back to her, like, yesterday, before his emotions went and did something irretrievably stupid.
He picked up the keys and headed out the door.
Bell Harbor had changed since the last time he’d been home. All the tacky little mom-and-pop stores he remembered had been replaced with art studios, bistro-style cafés, and upscale antique shops. It seemed the world had found its way to Main Street while Grant had been busy avoiding it.
His little brother had changed too. Somewhere along the line, he’d filled out and turned into a man.
“Geez, Ty, look at you, all grown up,” Grant said as they moved in for a clumsy embrace and thumped each other on the back.
His brother’s smile was still the same, though, and similar to his own. “Yeah, six years will do that to a guy,” he answered as they sat down.
Grant pulled off his coat. “Six years. Hasn’t been that long, has it?”
“Since the last time you’ve been back? Yeah.” Tyler’s voice was neutral, and Grant unexpectedly had the sensation of running into an old acquaintance at the airport rather than his own brother. They’d shared a childhood, but few things in their adult lives overlapped. Time lost its meaning in the jungle but obviously it had marched on back at home.
He looked around, taking in the view. The restaurant was small, with a relaxing, homey interior, the dark walls and heavy wood furniture giving it a rustic feel. Big windows looked out over the street where snow continued to pile up. “So, this place is called Jasper’s, huh?” Grant said. “Does that have anything to do with Jasper Baker from Bell Harbor High?”
Tyler’s blond hair was cut short, and his eyes were the same bright blue as their mother’s. “What do you think? How many Jaspers do you know?”
“One.”
“Guess that’s your answer, then.”
They both laughed, sounding like each other, and Grant felt hope they’
d find common ground. He’d missed his brother, he just hadn’t realized how much until that moment.
“Jasper opened this place a couple of years ago,” Tyler said, signaling for the waitress. “I even worked here last summer.”
The waitress came over, and they ordered drinks.
“You worked here?” Grant said after the server walked away. “You’re still an EMT though, right?” He hadn’t missed every detail, had he?
“Yes, and now I’m studying to be a paramedic. I started that in September.”
“Wow, sounds like you’ve been busy since I talked to you last. Where’d you find time to get engaged?” The question was supposed to sound casual, but Tyler’s expression tightened up.
“Everything with Evie was easy. When you know, you just know.”
“Like Mom knew with Hank?”
Tyler’s smile fell away completely and Grant wanted to rewind. God, sometimes he had the meanest mouth.
“This is nothing like that, Grant. I hated Hank as much you did. Mom made a mistake and she knows that now, but she was scared.”
“Scared? Of what?”
Lines of frustration formed across his brother’s forehead. “Is it really that hard to figure out? She was scared of being a single mom with five kids to feed. You and I probably could’ve managed all right, but Aimee, Wendy, and Scotty were still little kids.”
Grant’s other brother and sisters. They’d been young when he left, all freckles and knobby knees. At first there’d been lots of letters from them written in dark, clumsy pencil, but those had dwindled as they got older. Then he had trouble remembering things like birthdays. He’d sent presents, sometimes. When he thought of it. But he’d fallen out of the habit of wondering about the things, and the people, he’d left back in Bell Harbor. Work was easier than family, but his mother had reminded him last night that he’d missed a lot. His brother was about to remind him too. He could sense it coming and the realization made him feel lonely and old. And then it made him feel defensive.
“Four months, Ty. Four months after Dad dies and she brings that jackass into our house? Into Dad’s house. Grandpa would’ve helped her. I would’ve helped.”
Tyler leaned back and crossed his arms. “Helped? You mean the same way you helped when Hank left and took all the money? Or how about when she lost her job? Or when Scotty got arrested?”
Grant felt sucker-punched in the solar plexus. He hadn’t known about any of those things happening, but what hurt worse was that his brother didn’t sound angry so much as he sounded resigned. As if his expectations of Grant were so low, they’d become nonexistent. His involvement in the family had become superfluous. A rolling sense of unease rose up and he swallowed it down. Maybe that’s what all those unanswered phone calls were about. Shit. Maybe he was a lousy son, and a lousy brother. No wonder his mother had been so pissed at him last night. “When did Mom lose her job?”
“About three years ago. Now she’s working at Gibson’s grocery store.”
“I didn’t know that. When did Scotty get arrested?”
“A while ago but it’s all handled. I took care of things, and now he’s doing great at Fort Jackson. All he ever wanted to be was a soldier like Dad, so they’re kicking his ass but he loves it.”
The waitress brought their drinks and Grant took a big swallow. To wash down the size-eleven foot he’d put in his mouth. “Scotty’s a soldier now. I guess I have been gone a long time. Maybe I should’ve checked in a little more often, huh?” He tried to make a joke of it, but it fell flat.
“It would’ve been nice.” Tyler’s mouth said nice, but his tone said you’re a dickhead. And all of a sudden, Grant felt like one. The world he’d left behind hadn’t frozen in place. Everyone had changed, grown up, suffered through turmoil, and he’d missed it all. Maybe somewhere down deep, that had been deliberate.
“I’m here now. Does that count for anything?”
Tyler paused. The frown lines eased a bit. “It is nice to see you. I wasn’t sure you’d make it to the wedding.”
Grant felt some relief at the change in tone. “I would’ve come sooner but I didn’t get the invitation until about a week ago, and as you can imagine, it’s a bit of a hike from the Philippines. Mom said you tried to call me, though. I never got a message.”
Tyler took a drink and set the glass down firmly. “I never tried to call.”
That foot in his mouth went and kicked him in the throat. “You didn’t?”
“No. I didn’t figure you’d care that much.”
Grant’s jaw dropped, and the foot kicked him again. “Not care? My brother is getting married and you think I wouldn’t care? It’s not as if I’ve stopped being part of the family. Right?” It shouldn’t have been a question. It should have been a declaration, but at this moment, he wasn’t so sure. “Look, I know I’ve been shitty about keeping in touch, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you guys. I’ve just been busy working.”
His brother nodded, as if Grant’s words were of only moderate interest, but a curve started to form around Tyler’s lips.
“Well, like I said. It’s nice to see you. Aimee calls you Bigfoot, by the way.”
“Bigfoot?”
“Yeah, you know, like a mythical creature that people say they’ve seen in the wild but no one knows for sure if it’s real. That’s you to them.”
“Great.” God, was there anyone in his family who was actually happy to see him?
“Just thought you should be prepared. If you’re thinking there’s going to be some kind of a big parade to welcome you home, you might be a little disappointed.”
Apparently Grant had died without knowing it, and had come back as a punching bag. His brother was throwing hook after hook, and it was starting to piss him off. Eight thousand miles. That’s how far he’d come, and for this? If he’d wanted to get treated like shit, he could’ve stayed in the jungle with Miranda and Blake.
“Wow. Guess I’m wondering why you invited me at all.”
Tyler rolled his shoulders. “My fiancée insisted on it. Her parents had a fight that lasted twenty-three years, and she said if they could work through that, then you and I should be able to figure this out, if we put in a little effort. You interested?”
Was that an olive branch his brother was waving in his direction or a spear about to skewer him?
“Well, considering the fact that I didn’t even know we had a problem, I guess, yeah. I’m interested. I quit my job to be here, you know.” That wasn’t precisely true. He’d quit because he’d wanted to quit, but Tyler was flinging a lot of crap his way and he needed to fling some back.
“Mom said you quit because Blake Rockstone is an asshole.”
Grant chuckled at his own expense. “He is. But apparently so am I, so maybe we were a good team.” He picked up his drink and took a huge gulp. This was not the reunion he was expecting. It was more like a colonoscopy followed by a tar-and-feathering.
Tyler’s grin broadened, also at Grant’s expense, but he lifted his glass. “OK, truce. I’ve said my piece, and I really am glad you’re here. I didn’t think you’d come, and you’ve made Evie very happy, and Mom too.”
Grant held out his glass, feeling the first hint of genuine warmth since he’d sat down. “How is Mom doing? I mean, really doing? She seemed mostly OK when I went to the house.”
“She is OK. She’s not allowed in Mason’s jewelry store anymore because she swiped a watch from there last fall. I think Scotty leaving town for basic training had her rattled. But other than that, she’s managing.”
“She’s still gambling, you know.”
Tyler cocked an eyebrow. “I said she’s managing, I didn’t say she was cured. She has a new psychologist that Evie got her set up with, and things are improving. I suspect meds are involved.”
“Meds to make you stop stealing?”
Tyler shook his head. “No, antianxiety meds. Apparently it’s stress that makes her take stuff, so the more on an even keel things stay in her life, the better she does. Carl balances her out nicely. He’s so mellow he’s like a walking Xanax.”
“Yeah, Carl seems all right.” Grant took another drink and flipped open the menu left by the waitress. His gaze scanned the list of items but his mind had moved on to the next topic. “So, let’s talk about you, now. Tell me about this woman who swept you off your feet.”
Surely this would be the part where Tyler explained about the pregnancy and the obligation, maybe even shared his doubts about building a successful marriage. Only he didn’t. Instead, his brother’s face lit up like Christmas morning and Grant laughed out loud. Tyler practically had cartoon hearts circling his head.
“Wow. That good, huh?”
“Absolutely. Evie’s the best. She’s a plastic surgeon, beautiful, funny, a good sport, thank God. We met last summer when she gave me stitches.”
“Last summer? So this all moved pretty fast.”
Tyler’s eyes narrowed again, and Grant lifted his hands in mock self-defense. “Hey, I’m not making a judgment. I’m just saying that’s not a very long time to know each other.”
“You’re totally making a judgment, but go ahead. Once you see her, you’ll get it.” His voice was mild, almost smug. Was Grant being patronized by his little brother?
“When I see her? Why? Because she’s pregnant?”
God! He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Damn it. Now he’d have to wash that other foot down too, but Tyler just shook his head as if Grant was the one to be pitied.
“You’re a jackass, and no, she’s not pregnant, but we plan to adopt just as soon as we can.”
Grant coughed on a sip of his drink. “Adopt? Adopt . . . children?” He continued coughing, choking on his aversion to domestication. Tyler seemed far more amused than concerned by this.
Love Me Sweet (A Bell Harbor Novel) Page 6