"I don't want anything from my dad," she said firmly.
"He thought you might say that. That's why he sent me. He wanted me to deliver a more personal message. Would it be possible for me to come inside? It's starting to snow."
She'd been so caught up in the package in his hands that she hadn't realized how quickly the weather had worsened. But was she really going to invite this stranger into her home?
"I promise you I'm not dangerous," Ian said, as if sensing her reservations. "I'm a scientist. Your father and I are—friends."
Her gaze narrowed. "That hesitation doesn't sound like you are good friends."
"More like recent friends. I met him this summer when I visited my family's home in Ireland. My great-grandfather, Donald Rafferty, was one of your father's early teachers."
She remembered her father talking about his mentor Donald Rafferty, which made her feel marginally better about the stranger on her porch.
A gust of wind blew snow into her face, and she waved him inside. "You've got three minutes."
"Then I better talk fast," he said, as he stepped into her house.
She closed the door behind him to keep the freezing air out of her living room, but she had to admit to feeling a bit more shivery and tingly with Ian inside her house. He didn't look threatening; he was too handsome for that. He had an air of intelligence that backed up his claim to be a scientist, but she still sensed that the reason he was here was going to turn her life upside down.
He walked into the living room, where he set the box down on a table next to her couch.
"When is the last time you spoke to your father?" he asked.
"Ten years ago. What did he want you to tell me?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"That he was sorry he'd been a lousy father."
"Well, that's great. Being sorry doesn't make everything all right."
"I'm sure it doesn't. Can I sit down?"
"You're not going to be here that long."
"Got it. Look, I don't know what went down between you and your father, but Seamus expressed tremendous regret about losing you, your sister, and your mother. When I visited him at his office in Ireland, he told me that he'd put his professional life ahead of his family for years, that he had chosen ambition over love, and if he could do anything over, he would change that."
"Unfortunately, you don't get do-overs in life," she said harshly, trying not to be moved in any way by his words.
"Sometimes you do," he countered.
"You think I should forgive him?"
He gave her a long look and then shrugged. "Honestly? I don't know. I know more about your father's work than I do about the man who raised you."
"He didn't raise me; my mother did. So, how you think you can come into my house and tell me to forgive my father—"
"Hold on," he interrupted, putting up a hand. "You're right. I have no business telling you anything."
"I'm glad we got that straight."
"To be frank, I didn't even want to deliver the package, but he sent it to me along with my great-grandfather's journals, and he asked me to do him a favor. He knew I was going to be attending a science conference here in Tahoe, so dropping this off would be on my way. He suggested that a personal plea to you might make you open the package. Apparently, you've sent several back unopened."
"Apparently, my father doesn't take a hint."
"You hate him so much you don't want to know what he sent you?"
"It's none of your business."
"I'm just surprised you're not curious."
His words rang an old bell in her head. Her father had always told her that curiosity was what had driven him to his greatest successes. "Intellectual curiosity was my father's most notable trait, but it's not mine, especially not when it comes to him. I learned the hard way that what I don't know about him hurts less than what I do know."
Ian Callaway stared back at her, his gaze sharpening at her words. "It sounds like he hurt you deeply, Grace."
"He hurt all of us, my mother most of all. He might be a hero to the scientific world, but he's not to me."
"He said that he regretted his failure as a family man."
"That's what he told you? That he had regrets? That he failed at being a husband?" Anger ran through her. "Did he also tell you that he had a long-term affair? Did he mention that he had another child, a son, who is only ten years younger than me?" She blew out a breath at the stabbing pain that ran through her.
Surprise ran through Ian's eyes. "No, he didn't tell me any of that. I'm sorry."
"You're not the one who needs to apologize."
"True. I know better than to get in the middle of someone's family problems, so I should have followed my first instinct and dropped the package in the mail and let you send it back."
She was somewhat mollified by the compassion in his eyes. "That probably would have been best. You can leave the package here. I can take it to the post office tomorrow."
"All right."
"So you're here for the science summit?"
"I am, yes."
"I've heard it's going to bring in a lot of cash for local businesses in the quiet time before Christmas, so I guess that's a good thing. But, as you might imagine, I'm not a big fan of scientists."
He gave her a small smile. "We're not all the same."
He certainly didn't look anything like her father, but that didn't mean he didn't suffer from the same traits. She'd seen firsthand that with great intellect sometimes came a great ego. "What kind of science do you do?"
Before he could answer, the doorbell rang. "Excuse me." She walked back to the door and opened it. Tyler was on the steps.
"Mom says it's snowing so hard she wants to get on the road," Tyler told her.
She nodded and waved at Carrie, who quickly drove down the snowy street. She hoped Carrie would be able to make it to Reno before the storm got worse; it was pretty bad already. She took the booster car seat out of Tyler's arms and motioned him inside.
"Hi," Tyler said to Ian, as he dropped his backpack on the ground. "I'm Tyler."
"I'm Ian."
"Are you Grace's boyfriend?" Tyler asked.
"No, he's not," Grace said quickly. Tyler had been in such a bummed-out mood all day, she'd almost forgotten how curious and welcoming he normally was.
"That's too bad. My mom says you should get a boyfriend," Tyler told her. "She said you're too pretty not to have one."
"Thanks," she said, brushing some snow out of his hair. "Why don’t you take your bag into the guest room? You know where it is."
"Can I watch TV?"
"Sure. I'll start dinner in a few minutes."
"We're going to read the book later, right?" he asked worriedly.
"We are," she promised. "I brought it home with me."
"And we have to pick out my science project, too," he told her. "Mom was going to help me, but now she's gone. She doesn't know when she's coming back."
"I can help you. It's all going to be good, Tyler. I promise."
"Okay," he said with relief.
He picked up his bag and went down the hall.
"Cute kid," Ian said. "I take it you're babysitting."
"I am, and he is cute. I just hope he can stay as happy and innocent as he is right now," she murmured, thinking about the long trip Carrie had in front of her and all the things that could go wrong.
"What does that mean?"
"I'm watching him while his mother flies to Germany. His dad is in the Army, and he was injured today. He's being flown to the hospital there, and my friend Carrie is on her way to see him. She didn't tell Tyler where she was going. She didn't want him to worry. She doesn't know what kind of condition her husband is in or whether…" She didn't even want to finish the horrifying thought.
"That's rough. I hope he'll be all right."
"Me, too. He's been deployed for over a year. He was supposed to be home for Christmas. Now this…" She paused, realizing the depth of con
versation she was having with a total stranger. "So that was definitely more than three minutes."
"Yes, it was," he said with a small smile. "Did you know that your father still has your picture on his desk at the university—you, your mom and sister? You were about seventeen, I think. He showed it to me when I was there."
Her gut tightened at his words. "I don't care."
"He said you changed your last name after you left."
"To my mom's maiden name, yes."
"That seems like a big decision."
"It was something my mother wanted." She didn't add that she'd been a little conflicted, but she'd been so hurt by her dad's betrayal and her mother's pain that she'd gone along with it. "Anyway, you should go. I'm sure you have things to do. Where are you staying?"
"The Silverstone Hotel and Casino. I haven't checked in yet. I decided to stop here first."
"Silverstone's is beautiful. It was just finished six months ago. It's very modern and luxurious."
"That's good to hear."
She moved across the entry and opened the front door again. She was shocked by the blizzard of snow that flew into the room. It had only been ten minutes or so since Tyler had arrived, but now the wind was blowing hard, the snow coming down so thick she could no longer see the front lawn or the road. She really hoped Carrie would make it over the mountains to Reno. The storm was coming in from the west, and she was headed east, so hopefully she was in front of it.
"Whoa, it's gotten bad," Ian said, looking over her shoulder.
Too bad for him to leave, she realized. Not only were there near white-out conditions, her partially-paved, steep driveway turned into a slippery slide on days like this, and he was parked in front of her garage, at the top of the hill.
"Dammit," she muttered, as she closed the door. "You better stay here until it lets up."
"Are you sure? The hotel is only a few miles away. I can probably make it."
Sure that she wanted to let this far-too-attractive man with the most compelling pair of blue eyes that she'd ever seen stay in her house for the next few hours? Not for one second. But she didn't appear to have another choice. "You'll never get down my driveway in this. The last time I tried, I ended up in the ditch by the side of the road. My landlord has been promising to redo the pavers with a heat sensor, but that hasn't happened yet."
He didn't look too happy at the sudden turn of events, which made two of them.
"All right, if you're okay with it."
"It's fine. I was going to make dinner for Tyler and myself. You might as well join us. Hopefully, the storm will pass quickly." She couldn't believe she'd just invited him to dinner.
Damn her father for sending one more problem into her life…
* * *
"I can cook," Ian told her, as she led the way into her small kitchen.
"Well?" she questioned, a little surprised at the offer.
"I don't have any Michelin stars," he said dryly. "But no one has complained. Why don't you let me make dinner? As a thank-you for saving me from crashing my way down your driveway."
"I can't ask you to do that, Mr. Callaway."
"You're not asking; I'm offering. And I think you can call me Ian."
"All right. Then you better call me Grace." She paused, as he peeked into the grocery bags she had yet to unload. "I was just going to make spaghetti, salad, and garlic bread. It's Tyler's favorite meal, so you really don't need to help."
He pulled out the pasta and the ground meat. "Do you have fresh tomatoes?"
"I got some for the salad."
"Looks like you have plenty. We can put a few in the sauce. And you got fresh garlic—good. Why don't you go relax or spend some time with Tyler? I've got this."
She frowned. "It seems a little weird that you came to deliver a package and now you're cooking me dinner."
"I completely agree. It is weird, but here we are," he said with a shrug. "To be honest, I feel a little guilty for bringing you the package and asking you to open it. I didn't know the circumstances of your relationship with your father. I knew you were estranged but not some of the reasons why. When he asked me for a favor, I didn't feel I could say no. Your dad had gone to some trouble to send my great-grandfather's journals. I owed him. I don't like to be in anyone's debt."
Despite his suggestion that she check on Tyler, at the moment she was far more interested in him. Ian had shed his heavy coat and pushed up the sleeves on his sweater as he got the meat into the pan and filled a pot with water for cooking the pasta.
He was really an attractive man, she thought, her senses stirring with emotions that went far beyond irritation and annoyance now. She'd met a few scientists over the years, and Ian looked nothing like any of those men. He was tall and fit, and moved with athletic grace. He had a face that could be on a magazine cover and penetrating blue eyes that told her he had the determination and the intellect to get to the heart of anything. She'd already told him far more about her relationship with her father than she'd told anyone else in her life, and she had no idea why.
"Cutting board?" Ian asked.
She started, realizing she was staring at him, then said, "Corner cabinet."
He pulled out the board and started dicing tomatoes as skillfully as any TV chef she'd ever watched, which was pretty much her experience with cooking in the past decade. Her mom had not liked to spend time in the kitchen, and neither she nor her sister Jillian had ever mastered anything but the basics.
Watching Ian cook reminded her of her early childhood when her grandmother had lived with them for a few years and had cooked a hearty meal every evening. But she really couldn't compare Ian to her short, plump grandmother.
She smiled to herself. Ian caught that smile, giving her an inquiring look. "Something funny?"
"Not funny, just surreal. You're a scientist, yet you also like to cook. The two don't seem to go together. My father never set foot in the kitchen."
"At its core, cooking is science, so to me it's natural."
"I suppose you could make that claim. I asked you before, but you didn't answer. What kind of science do you do?"
"I started with a PhD in physics."
"Like my father," she said with a bit of a sigh.
He shot her a look. "And hundreds of thousands of other people."
"Wait. You said you started with that degree?"
"Yes. Three years ago, I became very interested in hydrology, so I got a master's degree in that."
"What is hydrology?"
"Simply put, it's the study of water, which is one of our most important natural resources. Without it, there is no life on earth. But the quality and supply of water has become a complex and difficult problem, especially in other poorer parts of the world. Clean water is becoming one of the biggest challenges of this century."
"So you're solving that problem, taking on that challenge?"
"Trying," he said, giving her a smile. "I started a company called Access Water last year. My very small team has been focused on building a mobile water filtration system that will allow ordinary people in third world countries to filter and clean their own water with something that looks like a very big straw. It's transportable and easy to use. It could be a game changer."
She was struck by the passion in his voice when he spoke. He wasn't talking about something in terms of it making him money but in terms of it changing the world. She was impressed. She was also once again reminded of her father: his extensive education, his big, ambitious dreams.
"Sorry, that was probably more than you wanted to know," Ian said. "My brothers and sisters usually tell me to shut up after a few sentences when I start talking about science."
"What you're doing sounds amazing."
"It will be if we can get the device to the people who need it the most." He took a moment to stir the meat and add garlic to it, then continued. "Unfortunately, global politics keeps getting in the way of science. I'm hopeful that the summit this week will be a step forward. We n
eed our government representatives to stop thinking of science in partisan terms. We all live on the same planet."
"I didn't realize the summit was about clean water."
"It's not limited to that. The conference will be bringing together many different disciplines, everything from bioengineering to environmental science, global health and stealth technology."
"You mean, like drones?"
"And things you couldn't even imagine. Technology is driving innovation in ways we haven't seen in decades. It's an exciting time." He paused. "If you like science."
She had the strangest feeling that he could make her like science, and that seemed crazy. She'd hated the world that had taken her father away. She'd known Ian for under an hour. Despite his beautiful blue eyes and sexy smile, this man was not going to change her life. He was only here until the snow stopped. Then she'd never see him again.
Three
Grace did not like scientists; that was clear. As soon as he'd told her about his job, she'd taken off to check on Tyler. Obviously, he reminded her of her father.
From any other person in the world, that comparison would have been a compliment, because while Seamus Donelan might have been a horrible husband and father, he was a brilliant scientist and inventor. He held a dozen patents. He'd created numerous devices that had quite literally changed the lives of millions of people. It was a shame that Grace couldn't see or couldn't acknowledge that side of her father.
It wasn't his business, though. He didn't need to get any more involved. He'd done what Seamus had asked him to do. He'd brought the package to Grace. What she did with it now was her choice. And he was fairly certain that choice would be to take it to the post office as soon as possible.
Grace was beautifully stubborn, with her snapping green eyes, gorgeous cloud of dark-red wavy hair that fell around her shoulders, her pale, creamy complexion with a few freckles to add interest, and then there was her tantalizing mouth…soft lips contrasted by a sharp edge to her voice. She was a mix of soft and hard. She was kind and generous when it came to Tyler, to helping out Tyler's mom, to letting him stay for dinner because of a snowstorm, but she was tough and unforgiving when it came to her father, to a backstory that still pained her.
Closer To You (Callaways Book 11) Page 3