Erin really thought he was going to pay no attention to her request, but when the light turned green, he made a left turn and went around the block in order to pull up in front of the place. The lettering on the window said April Kennedy was the photographer. She remembered Sheriff Fletcher saying he was engaged to April and since his office was right across the street, she figured his fiancée owned this place.
She opened the car door and said, “I won’t be long.”
Just before she got out, Harley whined and she felt a little guilty about leaving him behind. The little guy didn’t understand that his beloved human was calling the shots.
When she opened the shop’s door an overhead bell tinkled and the two very attractive women inside looked at her. Both were in their twenties, one a strawberry blonde, the other a brunette.
“Hi. I’m Erin Riley.”
“Jack Garner’s research assistant.” The brunette held out her hand. “April Kennedy.”
The April who was engaged to the sheriff, which explained how she knew who Erin was. “Nice to meet you.”
“Lucy Bishop.” The other woman gave her a friendly smile. “Co-owner of the Harvest Café.”
“I saw it. Looks like a nice place,” Erin commented.
“It is. Lucy cooks all the food and it’s really good,” April said enthusiastically.
“I look forward to checking it out.”
“So, is there something I can help you with?” April asked.
“I saw the photos in your window. Looks like scenes of the lake and mountains around here.” Erin settled her purse strap more securely on her shoulder.
“They are.”
She studied the breathtaking shots of twilight, when the mountains were backlit by the setting sun. And other scenes of the lake at different times of day. “Any for sale?”
“Not many,” Lucy said, only a little rueful. “I’ve bought quite a few.”
“My best customer.”
“That will change once the walls in my new condo are decorated. Then you and Will need to be regulars at the café so I can pay for it all.”
“Like we aren’t in there all the time now,” her friend scoffed.
That was probably where the sheriff had taken her after announcing to her and Jack at Bar None that he had a dinner date. “So you have a new condo?” she asked Lucy.
“Yes. Brand-new. Barely moved in. It’s just at the foot of the mountains. Awesome views in the summer and winter.”
“That’s exciting.”
“It is.” But Lucy’s attention shifted to the window that opened onto Main Street. “But maybe not as exciting as that dog.”
Erin figured the animal’s whining had gotten Jack out of the car. She glanced over her shoulder to confirm. “That’s Harley. He’s a Chinese crested.”
“Is that Jack Garner with him?” April asked.
Erin smiled at the man standing guard over his pet. “Yes.”
“I’d like to meet him,” Lucy said.
“Me, too.”
“He’s a little shy. Be gentle with him.”
The other two laughed, then April went behind the counter where the cash register was sitting and pulled out a camera. “I have to take some pictures of that dog.”
Erin and Lucy followed the photographer outside, where she was introducing herself to a wary Jack. He was giving her camera the death glare.
“Do you mind if I take some pictures of your dog? He’s quite unusual. And I promise to make copies and give you some.” April gave him a hopeful look.
He thought for a moment then said, “Okay.”
She held up the camera and Harley froze as if he was posing. He even moved his head a little to the left and right as she snapped away. Then he turned sideways, as if for a profile picture.
“He’s a natural.” Erin laughed. “Jack, you should get him an agent.”
“He’s very unusual,” Lucy said.
“Yes, but he grows on you,” Erin told her. She looked at Jack, who was still watchful and alert. On guard. “I’ve heard that dog owners take on characteristics of their pets.”
April studied him as if trying to confirm the truth of the words. “Would that be a good thing?”
Jack shrugged. “Harley is a better man than me.”
The two women laughed but Erin got the feeling he wasn’t entirely joking.
“So, how do you like Blackwater Lake?” Lucy asked him.
“Nice place.”
“Didn’t you buy Jill Stone’s property on Blackwater Lake Marina?”
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful out there. Quiet. Good spot for a writer,” Lucy said.
The guarded expression on Jack’s face told her it was time to change the subject. “This town is really different for me. I’m from Phoenix.”
“I’ve been there,” Lucy said. “I liked it a lot.”
“Thanks for not making a crack about the dry heat.”
“She’s a little touchy about that.” Jack almost smiled and gave her a look. He seemed to relax a little now that the focus had shifted away from him.
She could take one for the team. This couldn’t have gone better. They had dragged him into a conversation but he was still socializing. She liked being a bridge.
“Well,” Lucy said, “I managed to sneak away after the lunch crowd cleared out, but it’s time to get back to the café for the dinner rush. Nice to meet you, Erin. And Jack, I hope you’ll come by and check out the food at my place.”
“Never know,” he said.
“I really liked your book. I’m sure the next one will be even better than the first. I can hardly wait until it comes out.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” Without another word he turned his back and got in the car.
Erin couldn’t help feeling that the bridge she’d patted herself on the back for building moments ago had just collapsed on her head.
* * *
“Okay, so you’ve had a good brood. Now it’s time to stop sulking and get it off your chest.”
Jack turned off the jeep’s ignition after pulling the vehicle to a stop at the house. They’d barely spoken while grocery shopping and neither of them had said anything on the drive back from town. Now the first words out of her mouth were that he was in a mood?
He released his seat belt and glared at her. “What happened to you supporting me?”
“That’s what I’m doing.” She wasn’t the least bit intimidated by his look.
“If this is being supportive, I think I’ll take my chances solo.”
She took off her seat belt and angled her legs toward him. “Do you want to talk about what happened back there and why it made you crawl back into your man cave?”
For purposes of this conversation it would help him out a lot if she didn’t smell so damn good. Like flowers and sunshine. And look at him being all poetic. That proved his point. He couldn’t think straight when her particular brand of soft skin and spirited push-back was so close he could grab her up and kiss her.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I mean the way you went all strong, silent type on poor Lucy Bishop. She’s obviously a supporter and the last time I checked, the goal was to sell books. It’s hard to do that when you alienate your fan base.”
“She started it.”
Erin actually laughed. “You acted like a petulant little boy.”
Probably some truth to that. He didn’t much care right at this moment. “She said my next book is going to suck.”
He expected a rapid-fire return from the copilot’s seat and it was a couple of beats before reality sank in that he wasn’t going to get one. He looked over and found her staring at him. “What?”
“I was
warned that you would be difficult.”
“Good to know I lived up to advance billing.” That remark might have come from his inner, petulant little boy.
“But,” Erin continued, “no one told me you were a diva.”
Jack wasn’t entirely sure about the definition of a diva, but thought it might involve outrageous demands for white-rose-petal-covered sofas and organic water from Bora Bora. That’s not what this was about.
“It was the subtext of what she said,” he argued.
“You know they say if you give twelve writers the same idea you’ll get twelve completely different stories.”
“What in God’s name is your point?” he asked.
“You and I heard the same words and came up with two opposite interpretations. I believe she paid you a compliment, and is genuinely looking forward to reading your next book. You heard her say that you’re going to fall on your face.”
Harley jumped on the console between them and started to whine sympathetically. Almost as if the dog sensed Jack’s inner turmoil. Erin didn’t come right out and say it, but she was probably thinking that he projected his internal conflict by twisting innocent words. Could be some truth to that. And it made him a whiny toad, which was a rung or two lower than a son of a bitch.
“Understood.” He looked at her and the sweetness in her face did not bring out the best in him. It made him want to push back harder. “Next time you decide social networking is just the thing, do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Don’t.”
“But, Jack—” She looked down for a moment. “Creativity needs to be fed, watered and cultivated.”
“I’m not a plant.”
“I’m aware. It’s a metaphor. You might have heard of them.” She sighed, as if pulling her tattered patience together. “What I’m trying to say is that everyone needs contact with others.”
“There’s a reason I prefer being alone.”
“And what is that?”
“People.”
“You don’t like people?” she asked.
“Roger that.”
“So you don’t trust anyone?” There was something awfully darn close to pity in those green eyes of hers.
“My army buddies. They’re like my brothers. Closer. They had my back and I had theirs. I’d have taken a bullet for any one of them and they would have done the same for me.” He met her gaze to make sure she was getting this. “If any one of them needed help, I’d drop everything and be there to do whatever I could for them.”
“And they would do the same for you.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper and it wasn’t a question.
“Damn straight.” Harley put a paw on his arm as if he understood all about duty, honor and loyalty. Jack almost smiled. “So, yeah, there are people I trust.”
“But only a select few. No one else. And I’m pretty sure I fall into the no-one-else group.”
“You said it.” Even as the words came out of his mouth he realized she didn’t deserve that.
“Okay.” She nodded for a moment. “But here’s something to think about, Jack. Trust happens for a lot of reasons. One of them is going into combat situations and finding out who you can count on.” There was a lot less sunshine in her eyes when her gaze met his. “I suppose you could say life is combat. And telling someone only what they want to hear isn’t the best way to have their back. If someone isn’t afraid to lay the bad stuff on you, it’s a pretty good bet that when they tell you something good, you can believe it’s the truth.”
Damn it, why did she have to make sense? He just wanted to be ticked off and he wanted to do it alone. She would call it crawling back into his man cave and frankly, hoo yah to that. It had been a bad idea to let her talk him into going to town and it was a bad idea to sit here now and listen to her being rational. And she smelled so good he wanted to bury himself in her.
He opened his door. “Harley. Walk.”
The little guy let out an excited yip and jumped into Jack’s lap then out of the car. He raced toward the marina. Without looking back at Erin, Jack followed after his dog.
Brewster Smith was breaking down today’s sale display setup just outside the store. There were a few summer things left but the rest was fishing stuff. And it was getting pretty close to quitting time for the older man.
There was a chill in the air that had a lot to do with summer being over, but Jack also felt it inside himself. Probably it had been there for a lot of years, but he hadn’t noticed until Erin’s warmth showed him the difference.
Brew smiled when the dog bounded up the wooden steps and stopped beside him. He rubbed the animal’s out-of-proportion head. “Hello there, Mr. Harley. You’re looking fine today.”
“Hey,” Jack greeted him.
The older man gave him an assessing look, not unlike a military inspection searching for any breakdown in discipline. “Afternoon. You are not looking as fine as your dog.”
Everyone was a critic. “Thank you.”
“In fact,” the man went on, clearly not getting that “thank you” meant don’t go there, “you look like something’s eating at you.”
“Thank you again.”
Brew nodded, indicating he got the message this time. “How are things?”
“What is it with everyone wanting to talk about the damn book?”
“Well, now, I can’t speak for everyone. And I can’t say I’m not curious about how it’s coming along, what with your research assistant giving you a hand. But I sure did like the first one.” Brew rubbed a hand over his beard. “That said, I wasn’t askin’ about the book so much as that pretty lady who’s stayin’ there with you.”
“Oh.” Jack was just about ready to admit the pretty lady stayin’ with him had a point about him hearing something innocent that his subconscious turned into a negative. His only comment was “Erin is many things.”
“I’d put talker at the top of the list.” Brew laughed. “That little thing could babble the ears off a bull elephant.”
The imagery made Jack laugh. Mostly because it was true. She turned out to be nothing like he’d first thought when she’d turned up here. The small, eager-to-please woman he’d believed he could torment into leaving had turned out to have a steely, stubborn streak. If anything she was the one pushing him around. How else did he explain getting him to go to town? And she spoke her mind whether he liked what she had to say or not.
Mostly he didn’t dislike it.
“You’re right about that, Brew. She’s perky.”
“A firecracker, that one.”
Jack wondered if those washed-out blue eyes studying him so closely could see inside, what he was thinking. He sure hoped not.
“So that dinner she made the other night was pretty special,” the old guy said.
“You mean the chicken, and mac and cheese?”
“That’s the one. She brought some leftovers down to me for lunch the next day.”
Because sweet and thoughtful was how she rolled.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “It was good.”
Brew nodded sagely. “Careful with that one, Jack. You know what they say about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach.”
“I do. And no worries. Erin already told me I don’t have a heart.”
For some reason Brewster thought that was hilarious and laughed until Jack was afraid he would choke. He didn’t think it was funny at all. And he had a sneaking suspicion that shrewd Brewster Smith was sending his own message. Jack figured his take on her was need-to-know and no one needed to know that she’d gotten his juices flowing, none of the ones that had anything to do with the creative process.
Jack had been between a rock and a hard place before, but this was different. Putting a move on her was pretty damn tempting, but
he’d told her the very first time he laid eyes on her that they wouldn’t be sleeping together. Besides not looking like a hypocritical ass, it would be dishonorable to compromise an employee. He was a lot of things—whiny toad and son of a bitch immediately came to mind—but a jerk who would put her in that kind of position wasn’t one of them.
The burning question, and he did mean burning, was how the hell was he going to keep from being that jerk?
Chapter Seven
Erin was fed up with Jack’s silent treatment.
Oh, there had been grunts and grumbles, a shrug here and there, but none of that counted as actual communication. It had been going on for a couple of days now, since his snit following their visit to town. Afterward he’d practically barricaded himself in his office.
They had meals together but very little conversation. The daily status meetings he’d agreed to had been aborted but that was about to change. Because she was useless this way and she was going to make him talk to her or die trying.
She grabbed her file folders with the bogus research acquired from the ridiculous subject matter he’d assigned to her. One of the topics caught her eye and was particularly ironic considering the way he’d clammed up.
“Erotic talk, my ass,” she mumbled.
It was getting close to dinnertime and no way was she putting up with his stonewalling for even one more meal. She was going to do her job. If he didn’t like it, he could fire her and explain to his editor why the book wasn’t turned in. Erin walked out the front door onto the porch, then turned right and stomped up the stairs to his office. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on his door. He had never given her permission to enter so, as usual, she opened the door and stepped inside.
Jack was at his desk typing on the computer as if he hadn’t heard her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him from this angle, working. He had a very sexy profile and that was not a comforting thought as she prepared to jump into this confrontation with both feet. But she had to take a stand. She refused to be ignored.
“Hi, Jack.”
His fingers stilled over the keys and he looked at her. “Do you want something?”
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