Nora's Guy Next Door

by Jo McNally

“Don’t play dumb with me, Asher Peyton. Here, take your damn coat and good night.” She whipped his warm jacket off her shoulders and moved to throw it at him, but because this apparently was her life now, she stepped on the edge of the ice again and started to lose her balance.

  “Careful!” The jacket hit him in the face and he tossed it off, grabbing her arm for yet another rescue. Could this night get any more embarrassing?

  Flashing blue lights lit up the parking lot.

  Yes, apparently it could get a lot more embarrassing.

  “Oh, my God! It’s the police!”

  * * *

  ASHER LOOKED DOWN at the petite brunette spitting fire at him and almost laughed. Her chin-length hair was wild from all the flailing she’d been doing. It was usually tucked neatly behind her ears, but this softer look was good on her. There was nothing soft about those eyes, though. They were flashing gold in his direction, partly in anger and partly, he guessed, in panic at the sight of Dan’s police cruiser.

  Dan killed the flashing lights almost as soon as he’d turned them on. As he got out of the car, Asher wondered how long his friend had been watching. Nora yanked her arm away from him again, finally standing well away from the ice.

  “Is there a problem here, folks?” Dan was trying to wear his sheriff face, but Asher could tell he was biting back laughter. Asher would never hear the end of this one.

  Nora started talking a mile a minute. Surprise, surprise—Little Miss Goody Two-shoes was afraid of the police.

  “No, no, Officer. There’s nothing to worry about. Just a little accident and a misunderstanding, and I’m just heading inside now, so there’s really nothing to see here...”

  “Did you really just say ‘there’s nothing to see here’ to a cop?” Asher bent over to pick his jacket up off the ground, thankful he could hide his uncharacteristic smile from her. No one else could make him smile so damned much. “Could you sound any more guilty?”

  In the soft glow of the single parking lot light, he saw her eyes go wide. Was she really afraid of being arrested by Dan?

  “I didn’t mean it that way!” She shot a glare at him before turning to Dan, her hands fluttering in front of her. She forced out a laugh. “I’m sorry if that sounded... Really, though...there’s nothing to see...here.” She closed her eyes and groaned. “I’m just going to shut up now.”

  Dan laughed. “Yes, ma’am. I would advise you to stay silent during any future run-ins with law enforcement.” Nora swallowed hard, and Dan shook his head. “Relax! I only hit the lights to let you know I was here.” He gave Asher a curious look. “No one’s going to jail tonight, unless one of you wants to press charges?”

  He couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, I’m pressing charges for verbal and physical abuse.”

  Nora’s head whipped around and her mouth dropped open. “This is nothing to joke about, for God’s sake. The man is a sheriff! Besides, you’re the one who physically abused me.”

  Dan’s eyebrows rose, but he still wore an amused smile. “Is that true, Mr. Peyton?”

  “Only if you call saving a woman from cracking her stubborn head open on the ice abuse. And for thanks, I got my coat thrown in my face and was falsely accused of insulting her.” Nora rested her hands on her hips. The motion pulled her knit top tight across her breasts, and, well, it was cold out here. Asher’s eyes lingered on her chest until Dan cleared his throat loudly, snapping him back to the conversation. “Um, yeah. I tried to tell her to get off the ice, and she assumed I was saying something else entirely.”

  He watched the emotions flit across her face and wondered who it was that had accused her of being on a high horse to begin with. It must have happened a lot for her to automatically assume that was where he was going.

  The thought made his stomach twist for some reason. They hadn’t exactly gotten off on the best foot at Thanksgiving, what with both their children being idiots and all, but she was now his neighbor. He wouldn’t accomplish anything by antagonizing her. And he had been missing his morning cups of coffee from the café. He’d avoided the place since Nora bought it.

  She bit her lower lip, and some of the fire faded from her eyes. The sight of her, small and shivering, chewing her lip and looking up at him with those golden eyes, made something funny happen in his chest. Not funny ha ha, but funny like his heart was racing uncontrollably in a really weird way. Maybe he’d be better off making his own damned coffee.

  Dan cleared his throat again, and Asher and Nora quickly broke their intense stare. They’d been gazing at each other the whole time he’d been lost in thought. Interesting. And dangerous. Dan stepped forward and extended his hand to Nora.

  “I’m Deputy Sheriff Dan Adams, ma’am. And this lunkhead here is a friend of mine.” Asher rolled his eyes. “Sorry if I startled you with the lights. I was pulling in to see him when I saw two people struggling by the trash bin and a coat went flying, so I figured I’d announce my presence.” He gave Asher another intense look, as if he’d like to be interrogating him. “And then I saw who it was. You’re Nora Bradford, right? The new owner of Caffeine Cathy’s?”

  Regaining some of her composure, she shook Dan’s hand. “Yes, I’m Nora. And the coffee shop is called the Gallant Brew now. I fell on the ice, and Mr. Peyton came to assist me. There was a minor misunderstanding after that.” She looked at Asher with narrowed eyes.

  “About Michael and your daughter?” Nora stiffened, and Dan laughed softly. “It’s a small town, Nora. I haven’t met your daughter yet, but I hear she’s a nice girl.”

  She glanced at Asher, and he realized Dan was still holding Nora’s small hand in his. He wasn’t sure what was more annoying—his feelings about Dan holding her hand, or the direction the conversation was taking.

  “I assume you didn’t hear that from your friend?”

  The last thing Asher wanted to talk about was what was or was not happening with Michael and Nora’s daughter. What was her name? Barbara? Betty? Becky. That was it, Becky. He spoke up before Dan could respond.

  “I hate to break up this little social hour, but it’s not exactly warm enough to hang around outdoors and chitchat. Nora, why don’t you get back inside? Dan, you’re welcome to join me for a nightcap.” Nora’s eyes widened. “Relax. He’s off duty in five minutes.”

  Dan smiled at Nora and she returned it. The shared smiles made Asher’s stomach churn for some reason. Dan was divorced. Nora was widowed. Why should Asher care if they became friends, or more than friends, for that matter?

  “It was nice to meet you, Nora. I’ll definitely stop by for coffee sometime.” Dan gave Asher a quick grin as he finally let go of Nora’s hand. Had his friend just been playing with him?

  “It was nice to meet you, too, Dan. And please do stop by. I’m having pastries delivered every day from the bakery in Windham, and they’re delicious.” She started to turn toward the building, tossing her parting comment over her shoulder. “Good night, Asher. Thanks for trying to be a gentleman.”

  Before he could ask if she was insulting him or not—trying?—she was hurrying through her back door. The lock clicked behind her.

  “So,” Dan said, “you want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “What?” Asher was staring up at the light that had just come on in the third-floor window. He’d been inside the apartment when Cathy owned it and knew the layout. Nora was in the loft. Was she using it as her bedroom?

  “You’re almost as bad as her with the whole ‘there’s nothing to see here’ act. Why were you hanging on to her, and why was she throwing things at you?”

  Asher walked toward the back door to his shop, digging his keys out of his pocket. “It was no big deal. She fell on the ice trying to get her trash into the Dumpster. I tried to help her, but she’s Little Miss Independent. Every time she tried to show me how tough she was, she slipped on more
ice. I really was trying to keep her from cracking her stubborn skull open.”

  “And she thanked you by throwing your coat at you?”

  “She was returning it. And yes.” Asher stepped inside, but Dan didn’t follow right away.

  “There definitely seems to be some weird vibe between the two of you.”

  Asher narrowed his eyes. “You mean like a my-son-and-her-daughter-got-pregnant-together-and-neither-of-us-are happy-about-it vibe? Yes, definitely.”

  Dan glanced at his watch and stepped inside, officially off duty. “No, I sensed a completely different kind of vibe.”

  Asher told himself he didn’t know what the hell Dan was referring to.

  But he’d felt it, too. A vibe. A Nora Bradford vibe.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NORA SCRUBBED THE last of the guest-room paint from around her fingernails and wiped down the utility sink in the laundry room. Now that she’d spent a few weeks actually living in the apartment, it was finally starting to come together as a home. She’d painted the few nonbrick walls a soft yellow. The kitchen cupboards wore several coats of glossy black paint, and she’d replaced the ancient Formica countertops with white quartz. The old island had been expanded to accommodate room for four barstools. New stainless-steel appliances had arrived yesterday, and bright cherry-red accessories added a jaunty tone to the space.

  She’d thought Amanda was crazy when she suggested the diner-esque color scheme for the kitchen, but it looked just right in the brick loft, and it made her smile whenever she walked in. The rest of the apartment had been transformed, too, with long striped drapes at the windows and her old furniture artfully arranged to create a living room and small office area.

  “Nora!” Amanda’s voice no longer echoed in the loft now that they’d arranged oriental rugs on the plank floors and hung pictures on the walls. Her designer cousin had worked miracles with this former greenhouse. Nora looked up into the bedroom loft, where Amanda was sitting, her feet hanging over the edge twelve feet above the living-room floor. Her arms rested on the lower horizontal iron railing, now also wearing a glossy coat of black paint.

  “Come on up and see your new oasis!”

  The pounding of hammers and the heavy footsteps of Blake and his contractor, Bobby, had stopped over an hour ago. Nora, under strict orders from her cousin, had been using the downstairs bathroom, and she hadn’t peeked once into the tiny loft bath while Amanda transformed it.

  She hurried up the steps, groaning only slightly at the strain in her legs. After three weeks of running the coffee shop, she was starting to get into shape. Those first days had been horrible, and the pain in her legs when she’d finally sat down at night often left her in tears. But it was getting better.

  They’d decided on soft blues for the bedroom, and it looked lovely now that the bedding had arrived and her furniture was in place. When she woke up in the mornings, she sat up and looked through the big arched window right out to Gallant Lake across the street.

  “Are you ready to see your new en suite?” Amanda’s ponytail was bouncing as she rocked back and forth on her heels. She was more excited about this than Nora was. “Now remember, we didn’t have a lot of space to work with, and you did lose a couple feet of closet space, but I think it’s totally going to be worth it.” Without waiting for any response from Nora, she opened the door.

  The small bathroom, which had been painted bright orange originally, was now covered in gleaming white marble, from the floor tiles to the walls to the expanded shower, now enclosed in glass instead of a ragged old shower curtain. The only thing that wasn’t white was the vanity. It was an antique cabinet Amanda had found and converted for this room. A clear vessel sink sat on top under a silver gilded mirror on the wall.

  “Amanda... I’m speechless.” Nora stepped in and looked around. It was still compact, but the elegance factor was off the charts. “This looks like a miniature version of some old-time movie star’s bathroom. It’s beautiful!”

  Amanda grinned. “I know, right? As soon as I saw this little cabinet, I knew it would be perfect. There was no way to squeeze a tub in here, of course, but you have a tub downstairs. And at least you can turn around in the shower now!” Amanda jumped into the shower to prove her point. “This rainwater shower head will be nearly as relaxing as a bath.”

  Nora looked up and agreed. The square shower head almost covered the entire top of the small shower. “I love it. The place finally feels like home.”

  Amanda tipped her head to the side. “Does it? Are you settling in? Has your neighbor called the cops on you again since that first time?”

  Nora swatted at her cousin with a hand towel as they walked out of the bathroom. “Shut up! He didn’t call the cops. The sheriff is a friend of his.” Nora had noticed Dan Adams’s cruiser in the lot several times since her little run-in with Asher two weeks ago.

  Amanda glanced back at her as they went down to the living room. “Blake said the steps Asher built by the trash bin are sturdy enough to withstand an earthquake.”

  It was only two nights after her fall that she’d lugged the trash outside and found the sturdy platform with a railing and two steps leading up to it. It put her at the perfect height to be able to open the heavy door and drop her trash bag inside without twisting herself into a knot. Amanda was still talking, but Nora had no clue what she’d just said.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “The steps Asher made? You know, that guy next door who makes you all blushy and absentminded?”

  Right on cue, Nora’s cheeks warmed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He did a nice neighborly thing and I thanked him for it.” Not in person, of course. She’d left a bag of fresh pastries hanging on his shop door the next morning, with a short note of thanks. “Let’s not forget he once suggested my daughter get rid of the child she’s carrying. His grandchild.”

  “Okay, I get that. But I also see the way you react whenever his name comes up. In some little corner of your brain, he’s still Hot Produce Guy.”

  Nora picked up her clipboard from the kitchen counter. She wasn’t about to acknowledge the accuracy of Amanda’s statement. “With the bathroom done, the only project left is cleaning out that mess of a laundry room.” She checked off a line on her lengthy moving-in to-do list. “But that can wait. Five in the morning comes awfully early, and I’m exhausted.”

  “I don’t know how you do it. Don’t you think it’s time you got some help with the shop?”

  “Yes, actually. I’m going to look for some part-time staff, and Becky’s offered to help on the weekends.”

  Amanda stopped in the middle of pulling on her down jacket. “Really? So she’s accepted your presence in Gallant Lake?”

  “It sort of depends on what day of the week it is. She still thinks I came here to spy on her and Michael, so I can secretly run their lives.” Amanda’s eyebrows climbed toward her hairline, but Nora waved her laughter away. “Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s partly true. She doesn’t know the main reason I left Atlanta was to protect her from any stories about her dad. And, besides, she’s the one who told me to start living my own life. So here I am, doing that.”

  “You are doing that. And she’s got to be proud of you, even if she won’t say it out loud yet. The coffee shop looks great and everyone is talking about it. The ski season is almost over, but when the summer tourist traffic hits, you’re going to do fantastic. And you have very stubbornly done most of it on your own.” Amanda gestured around the apartment. “I mean, look at this place! You turned a pot farm into a home straight out of a design magazine.”

  “Oh, God, stop reminding me about the pot plants. I swear I can still smell them sometimes.”

  “Cathy didn’t happen to leave any samples, did she?”

  Nora shooed Amanda to the door with a startled laugh. “
No! The only thing she left behind was dirt and creepy crawlies.”

  “Creepy crawlies? In the middle of winter?”

  “She kept this place the temperature of a hothouse, and a bunch of spiders and flies decided to snowbird right here above the coffee shop.” Nora suppressed a shudder. When the contractors were cleaning, they told her they’d cleared quite a few spiderwebs, and some of them were pretty big. Since then, she’d been killing flies and, much to her horror, a variety of smallish spiders, but the number seemed to be diminishing.

  She said good-night to Amanda and turned, leaning against the closed door and looking around the apartment suspiciously. Big scary spiders were something she hadn’t minded leaving behind in the South. Surely they didn’t grow that big up here.

  Did they?

  * * *

  ASHER WAS SURPRISED to see his son’s red Jeep driving up the steep mountain road. He didn’t get a lot of visitors when he was on Gallant Mountain, and Michael hadn’t been up here in months. Not since right after Christmas.

  He set down the sander and brushed the sawdust off the front of his T-shirt and out of his hair. The thick slab of cherry he’d chosen for the mantel on the fieldstone fireplace was ready for a clear coat of stain now that it was sanded smooth.

  “Dad? Where are you?” Michael’s voice echoed in the large, empty space.

  Asher met him in the kitchen. “Hey, son. What brings you up here?”

  Michael looked around and gave a low whistle. “You’ve been busy this winter. It’s looking good, Dad.”

  Asher followed Michael’s gaze. The kitchen opened to the great room, which had a soaring vaulted ceiling and one wall lined with windows overlooking Gallant Lake and the snowy mountains beyond. The recovered antique plank floors were scarred and weathered. There were three bedrooms beyond the living room, and a wide circular staircase led up to the master suite.

  Nothing was finished. The rooms were basically raw wood and unprimed drywall. The only exception was the kitchen, which was at least partially completed. He’d hung the hickory cabinets last week and topped them with finely grained marble in dark gray. Appliances would arrive next week.