At her approach, he straightened and ended the call, slipping the phone into his pocket. A pair of aviator sunglasses hid his pale blue eyes and the sunlight brought out golden streaks in his mop of dark blond hair.
“I thought we were meeting the owner of the building.” Rylee said in greeting. She directed the dogs to sit.
“He’s late. And so are you.”
“Couldn’t be helped. Sil has her wand out again. I got away as quickly as I could.”
White teeth flashed when he smiled. “You too? She tried to set me up with the meter maid who wrote her a ticket last week.”
“What happened to…Karen? Last I heard you two were hot and heavy.”
“She got pissed when she found out I’d been to a Yankee’s game last week.”
“Doesn’t share your enthusiasm for the boys of summer, huh?”
“She doesn’t share my enthusiasm for cheering on the boys while in the company of another woman.”
“Wow. I didn’t realize she was so shallow. What a bitch.” Rylee offered the dry commiseration, crossing her arms. “You’re better off without her.”
He shrugged off the sarcasm. “Hey, Lucy tempted me with box seats. What can I say? I’m weak.”
“What you are is a slut, and if Sil’s trying to fix you up with meter maids it’s your own fault. I refuse to feel sorry for you, especially since diffusing her matchmaking will take some of the pressure off of me.”
They shared a grin.
She studied the two-story, brick structure. “So, this is it?”
He nodded. “The building is sixty-five years old, but the roof, electrical, and plumbing were all brought up to code less than five years ago. Plenty of parking out back. About the only exterior costs we’d see is if we decided to replace the windows.”
“Do they need replacing?”
He tipped his flat hand back and forth.
“New windows, then.”
She jumped when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out, she frowned at the melodic chime of Someday My Prince Will Come. A quick glance at the caller ID showed a restricted call and she pressed the button, killing the song.
“Waiting on a prince?” Brian teased.
“I downloaded the tone last week to annoy Sil.”
He snickered.
“Brian!”
He turned at the greeting and Rylee followed his gaze to find a hefty, middle-aged man in a rumpled suit hurrying down the sidewalk. His balding head gleamed with sweat and he huffed from exertion.
He shuffled to a stop before them. “Sorry I’m late.”
“There’s a lot of that going around.” Brian winked at Rylee. “We just got here ourselves. Rip, this is Rylee Pierce, Silvia’s niece. Rylee, Rip Cain.”
“Hello, Mr. Cain.” When he cast a wary glance at the dogs, she reassured him. “They won’t bother you.”
“Rip, please.” He smiled shyly. “I expected Silvia,” he said to Brian. “I was looking forward to meeting her.”
“She, ah, couldn’t be here. Rylee will fill her in.”
Rip nodded, his disappointment clear by his slumping shoulders. “Ah, well. To tell the truth, it’s just as well. A bug is going around the travel agency and we’re short-staffed. I need to get back.” He reached inside his suit coat and pulled a key ring from his shirt pocket. “I just came by to give you the key. You can get it back to me later.”
“That’ll work.”
Rip turned to Rylee. “I admire what your aunt and Brian are doing with their foundation. My sister’s boy did three tours in Iraq before he came home for good. He and his family bought into the building over near the courthouse. They never could have afforded a place big enough for all of them without the foundation’s help. You be sure to convey my thanks to Silvia.”
“She’ll be glad to hear it,” Rylee said, smiling.
“You’ll get back to me when you’ve made a decision?” he asked Brian.
“Silvia or I will be in touch.”
“Good.” He shook hands with Brian, nodded at Rylee and headed off down the sidewalk.
“Does it ever bother you?” Brian asked, watching him go. “That people don’t know?”
“I know.” And that was enough for her. “So, let’s see if we’ve found our next building.”
Waiting while he dealt with the lock and swung the door open, Rylee and the dogs went in first. They moved deep into the empty warehouse. A thin layer of dust coated the floor and windows. The stuffy odor of disuse hung in the air. Brian stood by the door, his hands on his hips.
“It’s a clean slate.” His voice echoed off the high ceiling. “Tear-out costs will be minimal. The square footage is right and the structure is solid.”
“And the asking price?”
“A little steeper than I’d be willing to offer, but after being empty for years Rip is anxious to sell. He is serious about his admiration for the foundation. He’s giving us a first shot before he puts it on the market.”
He removed the sunglasses and his pale, blue gaze scanned the ten-foot ceiling.
“Bottom line?”
“Bottom line is we’ve looked at a lot of properties and this one has everything we’re looking for. Unlike the occupants of our first two buildings, a couple of names on the list will need permanent access to the medical community. The VA is less than a mile away. Sil is working on a partnership with the medical center around the corner. The location is perfect. If Rip is willing to meet our price, this would be my choice.”
Rylee glanced around the large warehouse space. Its purchase would take the foundation into new territory. Rehabbing the first two buildings hadn’t been cheap, and the purchase and rehab of this one would come close to swallowing the rest of her initial investment. If Adam’s House was to continue its mission, they were going to have to step up the fund-raising—starting with next month’s event. But the investment would be worth the cost. Twenty deserving families could find a home here.
“Make the offer.”
She shrieked when Brian crossed the distance on a steady stride, scooped her up in his arms and spun her around in a dizzying circle.
“Adam would be so proud of you,” he said when he let her feet touch the ground.
She pushed out of his arms as both Pippin and her well-behaved Belle danced about them in excitement. “Quit it. You’ll make me cry.” She pointed at Pippin. “And that one freaks out when people cry.”
“Rylee Pierce never cries.” He grinned, tapping a finger to her nose while studying the moisture in her eyes. “She just mists.”
“Damned straight,” she agreed. Tagging along after Adam and Brian all those years taught Rylee to be tough and Ponzi Pete’s little girl couldn’t afford to show any kind of weakness.
“Have you eaten lunch?” he asked, leading her out the door and locking it behind them. She cast a pointed glance down at the dogs and he grinned. “There’s a deli right around the corner. They have patio seating. We can test the pea brain’s patience.”
“Pippin doesn’t have a pea brain,” she cooed, rubbing the dog’s ears. Brian cupped her elbow and started them in the direction of the deli, then hung back to let a group of teenagers pass by. When he stepped to her side again, she added, “And don’t say things like that. You’ll hurt his feelings.”
“He doesn’t understand a word I say. You’re the only one around here who can talk to animals.”
“We don’t really talk to each other, I just understand them and they understand me.”
They rounded the corner and approached the deli’s outside seating. She dropped her outstretched arm then flicked up a palm. Without a word from her, both dogs dropped to the ground beside an open table.
Brian looked from the dogs to her, his smile wry. “Whatever you say, Ms. Doolittle. Pastrami, rye, right?”
Rylee licked her lips. “Mmm. Provolone, pickle, mustard.”
“Be right back.”
Five minutes later, they were sharing lunch beneat
h a blue and white striped umbrella. At her feet, Belle accepted the occasional notice of a passerby with her usual calm, while Pippin, whose sheer size tended to create a stir, required an occasional reminder to stay put. For an unplanned test, the results were promising, and reinforced Rylee’s belief the time had come to bring in his family.
“So, Sil said she met Elliott’s son this morning,” Brian said around a mouthful of corned beef.
“Yep. He came by shortly after we got Elliott home from the hospital.”
“You met him, too?”
She nodded, snagging a french fry from his plate.
“What’s he like?”
She popped the fry into her mouth before answering. “Tall, dark, handsome. Typical run-of-the-mill movie star stuff.”
Brian’s blond brows rose. “I didn’t ask what he looked like. I asked what he is like.”
“Hmmm…” She took refuge in her mammoth sandwich and shrugged. “He’s like a lawyer, I guess.”
“You like him.” He drew out the words in a teasing, singsong tone.
She pointed at his nose. “If you break into a verse of Rylee and Cooper Sitting in a Tree, I’m going to slug you.”
He burst out laughing and her scowl made him laugh harder. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting you find a man attractive, Ry.”
“Fine,” she grumbled. “I thought he was hot, okay?”
Brian’s eyes twinkled with continued amusement. “Is he single?” He bit off a hunk of his sandwich, speaking around the food. “You should ask him out.”
She scowled. “You’re as bad as Sil.”
“Now, that’s just mean, Rye Bread,” he complained, using the nickname he and Adam annoyed her with when they were kids.
“Friendship has its privileges.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned on her elbows. “I mean it, Bri. He’s gorgeous and he’s charming, just like Elliott. I have to admit, I’m tempted to break my own rule and go after him.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“Really?” Her sarcasm dripped like ice cream melting from a cone.
“I’m serious. Elliott knows who you are and it doesn’t bother him. Odds are his son won’t care either.”
“Elliott isn’t a lawyer with the D.A.’s office. Besides, any guy who looks like Cooper Reed must have a girlfriend. For all I know he’s married.” The possibility made her frown.
“So find out,” he suggested. “Sil could give you the scoop on him.”
“And asking Sil about her stepson would get her off of your scent and onto mine.”
“Two birds, one stone.”
She rolled her eyes at his unapologetic grin. “Forget it.”
“I could find out for you.”
“Right. Then what? Are you going to pass me a note in study hall?”
He snickered and finished off the last bite of his sandwich. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “He’s Elliott’s son, for heaven’s sake. Can you imagine if I got involved with him and things got ugly when he found out about my dad? Sil would be pissed and Elliott caught in the middle. I’m not willing to chance that. I’ll just have to admire him from afar.”
“Coward.”
“Pragmatist.” Rylee smirked. “Now, are you going to buy me dessert?”
He eyed her empty plate. “I swear, Rye Bread, you can pack away food better than any woman I know, and a lot of the men.”
“Cheesecake.” She smiled sweetly when he rose from the table. “With strawberry topping!” she called as he disappeared inside.
Chapter Five
“Told you I could find out.”
“Be quiet, you idiot.”
Hands full, Rylee brushed by Brian to set the warm tray on the counter. She pealed the foil from Sil’s Cajun kisses. The pungent vapor of shrimp-and-cheese-stuffed jalapeños teased her nostrils. She shot a glance toward the living area where Sil, Elliott, and Cooper Reed were engrossed in conversation.
“Thanks to your not-so-subtle probing,” she complained under her breath, “Sil’s wand is going to be working overtime.” And if not for Sil’s eagle-eyed interest, Rylee would have laughed her head off at Brian’s conversational contortions, quizzing Coop on his relationship status. “Coop probably thinks you’re gay, you know.”
“Nah.” A grin spread across Brian’s face and he plucked a jalapeño from the full tray. “We men have radar about that kind of thing.”
She snorted. “Some men may have gaydar, but from the way Coop was looking at you, he isn’t one of them.”
Brian avoided her slapping hand, snagging seconds.
“No wife, Rye Bread.” He waggled the pilfered jalapeño in front of her nose. “The field is clear. Unless he’s gay.”
“Fat chance of that.” Considering how his eyes cataloged every inch of her body that first day, she doubted there was anything gay about Cooper Reed. She smiled sweetly. “But that doesn’t rule out a girlfriend.”
His grin sharp, Brian lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Girlfriends can be replaced.”
“Get away from me, Don Juan,” she grumbled, hefting the tray. “And don’t do me any more favors.”
The sound of his wicked laughter followed her into the living room.
“Coop and I were just discussing next month’s fundraiser.” Sil looked over at Rylee’s approach. “He has some connections in the city I’m hoping to tap.”
She offered a bland smile in response. The foundation, or more precisely, her connection to it, was a subject she’d rather avoid while in the presence of an attorney with the D.A.’s office.
She set the tray on the coffee table. Brian dropped a pile of napkins beside it before seating himself in the last unoccupied chair. With Elliott and Sil cuddling on the couch, the only open seat was on the loveseat beside Coop. Rather than join him, Rylee rested a hip on the arm of Brian’s chair, shoving back when he jabbed her in the ass with his elbow.
“I hadn’t realized your aunt is the Silvia Burke, associated with The Adam’s House Foundation,” Coop told Rylee.
Rylee checked the chastising glare she wanted to send Sil’s way. What could she be thinking, bringing up the foundation with Cooper Reed?
“You know of Adam’s House?”
“Who doesn’t?” He turned to Sil. “It was formed in honor of your son from what I’ve read.” Sil nodded. “I’m sure he’d be proud.” He turned back to Rylee. “Affordable housing for returning combat vets is a worthy cause.”
“Very worthy,” she agreed.
“Coop has a contact in the fashion industry,” Sil announced. “A couple of items from several designers would add definite New York panache to the silent auction, don’t you think?”
Rylee bared her teeth in a warning smile, then turned to study Coop. “The fashion industry, huh? I wouldn’t have thought a lot of high crimes and misdemeanors came out of the garment district.”
“My connection with the fashion industry is more in the way of a personal association.” He smiled, a slow curving of those perfectly cut lips below eyes twinkling with pure blue sin.
She’d just bet the association was personal. What woman could resist that deadly combination of I-want-to-taste-you lips and I-promise-you’ll-enjoy-it eyes? Even though he was off limits, his bad boy smile made the breath back up in her throat. She swallowed against the heady rush swelling in her chest, competing for space with her constricting lungs.
To counter the corresponding breathlessness of her response, she cocked her head and crossed her arms. “With a model, no doubt.”
“The contact I mentioned used to be a model.”
She didn’t spin around to smirk at Brian, but she wanted to. Instead, she settled for shoving an elbow at the shoulder closest to her hip.
“Now she’s the personal assistant to one of the designers,” Coop continued. “She and her husband are friends of mine.”
Her ass received another jab, accompanied by Brian’s self-satisfied g
runt. She ignored both.
“I could introduce you to her if you’d like,” Coop offered. “You could pitch her Silvia’s fundraising idea.”
Invitation filled the blue-sin gaze holding hers, for more than just a simple introduction to his friends.
She could almost hear Sil’s silent urging. Say yes, Rylee. Say yes! Rylee refused to look her way. “Sil can pitch her own ideas. She handles the foundation’s business. I train dogs.”
She turned away at the unexpected flash of disappointment in Coop’s eyes and the moment passed, but despite Rylee’s lack of cooperation, Sil plowed ahead with her matchmaking strategy. Over the next hour, she grilled Coop on his life, interspersing her nosy questions with humorous memories from Rylee’s childhood. Brian, the idiot, eagerly assisted.
Like a deviant tag-team, they traded stories of the juvenile pranks. Although Adam and Brian were the architects of most, Sil focused on Rylee’s participation in their fiascos. Her aunt’s agenda was so obvious, by the time dinner ended Rylee wanted to clobber Sil over the head with her fairy-godmother wand.
For his part, Coop appeared amused by Sil’s blatant machinations. After that rejected invitation to meet his friends, he backed off from anything personal. He joined in the friendly banter around the table, laughing at himself as quickly as he did others, while Rylee wavered between relief and regret. But for the specter of her father’s crimes, Coop was a man she would enjoy getting to know. Allowing herself that pleasure, however, would only end in disaster. One more disappointment to place at her father’s feet.
Sil didn’t share her concerns. When Rylee rose to slip downstairs to check on the dogs, Sil suggested Coop join her. To Rylee’s surprise, he didn’t hesitate, admitting a desire to meet the infamous Pippin.
“She’s not very subtle, is she?” he said the moment the door shut behind them.
“No, she isn’t.” Rylee moved across the balcony and he followed. “Sorry about all of that.” She tossed her head toward the condo door. “She can’t help herself. Women born south of the Mason-Dixon Line carry a matchmaking gene.” She paused at the top of the stairs. “Look, you don’t have to do this. In fact, why don’t you go back inside? It would serve Sil right to discover her plan has failed.”
That Dating Thing Page 4