Some part of her had been afraid it would be gone. Her heart was pounding and she was shaking all over. She’d start to hyperventilate next, if she didn’t calm down. It wasn’t as if she actually needed the lawyer’s letter. Yet it suddenly seemed vitally important that she find it. Like her purse, she wanted something concrete to hold in her hand. Frantically, she searched her car.
The letter wasn’t there.
Standing slowly, she closed the door, then her eyes. Had she put the envelope in her purse before leaving her apartment yesterday? She remembered picking it up and rereading the message before she’d left. So why couldn’t she remember his name? What was wrong with her? Why did she feel so weird?
“Lose something?”
She opened her eyes to find Bram leaning against the trunk of the car. Dressed in tailored slacks and an open V-neck sports shirt, he looked incredibly handsome and solidly real.
“My mind,” she told him honestly.
He arched his eyebrows. “Does that happen often?”
On the ragged edge of tears, she found his matter-of-fact tone was exactly the right note to steady her. Inhaling deeply, she nodded. “It’s starting to seem that way.”
His brow furrowed. “Want to talk about it?”
Did she? Jacob hadn’t believed her, and he knew her. Did she want to see Bram’s eyes fill with pity for the crazy woman? Because that was exactly what she was starting to feel like.
“Have you eaten?” Bram asked.
“What?”
“I was on my way to The Inn for an early dinner. You could come with me if you’d like. I’ve found problems often have a way of looking different on a full stomach.”
He hadn’t moved, so she must have, because she found herself standing only a few feet away from him—close enough to smell a hint of his aftershave. Her body had processed the two slices of toast she’d eaten several hours ago, so at the mention of food, her stomach rumbled in assent. How bizarre to be thinking about food when her whole world was coming apart.
What did it matter? Bram was offering her a chance to escape. A chance to get away and think.
“I’d have to change,” she told him.
Bram’s gaze traveled down her body. “You look fine to me.”
Her heart stuttered. Sternly, she told herself that he wasn’t coming on to her. The words had been said casually. Yet they made her aware of her rumpled shorts and T-shirt and the messy tangle of hair around her face.
“It would only take me a minute.”
“There isn’t a woman alive who can change clothing in a minute.”
Some of her tension began to ease. “Is this the voice of experience talking?”
“It doesn’t take experience,” he told her. “Men are born knowing that basic fact about women.”
“Really? I’ll accept that challenge.”
He came off the car. A large, quiet, powerful man who managed to impart a sense of confidence with his very presence. “I was heading for your front porch, anyhow. I left my measuring tape there,” he told her. “I guess the heat got to me today. I never leave tools lying around.”
She fell into step beside him as they skirted the two rear doors and started around to the front of the building. Mrs. Norwhich was plainly visible through the kitchen window, bustling about the room. There was no sign of anyone else.
“The heat got to me, too. I took a nap this afternoon. While I was sleeping, someone came into my room and started going through my overnight case,” she blurted out.
Bram stopped walking. “Who did?”
His instant concern was balm to her shattered confidence. “I don’t know. I only saw their reflection in the glass frame of the poster at the foot of my bed. They tossed a shirt over my face and took off.”
“Did they take anything?”
“I don’t think so.”
Bram waited.
“I thought the person took my purse, but Jacob told me it was in the library.”
When Bram’s eyes narrowed, she started to regret telling him anything, but now that she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“He was right. Jacob went back upstairs with me.” She faltered a minute, but decided Bram might as well know the whole story. “I know this sounds crazy, but while I was downstairs, someone went back into my room and repacked the stuff they’d pulled out of my bag. Jacob thought I’d dreamed the whole thing, but I hadn’t,” she added in a rush.
Bram’s features were impassive. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did he believe her?
“What were you looking for in your car?” Bram asked.
“The letter from the lawyer. I was sure I had it in my purse when I drove here yesterday, but it’s gone.”
“Is it important?”
Was it? “Not really. I mean, I don’t see how it would be of value to anyone. Except that I can’t remember the man’s name. I was supposed to call and make an appointment to talk to him.”
“It’s after five now,” Bram pointed out after a moment. “You couldn’t call him today, anyhow.”
She nodded as he resumed walking. “He has an office in Stony Ridge. I don’t imagine there can be too many law offices in a town the size of ours.”
“You wouldn’t think so,” he agreed without inflection.
As they came around the corner, Jacob rose from the front porch steps. His body tensed when he saw Bram.
“Did you find it, Hayley?” he asked.
Hayley shook her head. “I must have left it in Boston.” Not wanting Jacob to say anything else, she looked at Bram. “Come on in. I’ll only be a minute.”
Jacob pinned her with a look of concern. “Are you going someplace?”
“Bram invited me to have dinner with him at The Inn.”
Bram stepped around Jacob and picked up the metal measuring tape that was sitting on the porch next to the front door.
“Good idea,” Jacob said. “Whatever Mrs. Norwhich is making smells like something my roommate used to feed his cat. Mind some company?”
“Another time,” Bram said, reaching for the handle and opening the door. He waited for Hayley to precede him.
“That was sort of rude,” she told him as they stepped into the large hall.
“I agree. I was always taught a person should wait to be invited,” Bram said.
That wasn’t what she’d meant and he knew it, but Bram had a valid point, as well. “Would you mind coming upstairs with me?”
His dark eyes studied her face. She forced herself to hold his gaze.
“Are you worried about me or him?” he asked perceptively.
“You can take care of yourself,” she told him. “I just don’t want to go upstairs alone and find more surprises waiting for me.”
It was partly true, and he could think what he wanted. She wasn’t going to leave him down here in the hall for another confrontation with Jacob or anyone else.
Bram inclined his head without comment, following her silently up the grand staircase. She wondered what he was thinking as they walked down the darkly paneled hall to her room.
His gaze surveyed her bed, the poster and the overnight bag before he looked at her. “You’re sure nothing is missing except the letter from your lawyer?”
“Nothing I noticed.” She forced her fingers to open the case. The T-shirt lay folded on top. “I don’t fold my clothing like this.”
Bram’s eyes darkened.
She dropped the shirt with a shudder. She was sure it would never feel clean to her again.
“I’d better change. If it gets too late, we’ll have to wait for a table.”
Pulling a green sleeveless shift from her closet, she found the matching sandals and entered the bathroom. Glancing in the mirror, she wondered why Bram had even invited her. Her hair was a bigger mess than she’d realized. Heavy shadows rimmed her eyes. She wasn’t wearing a trace of makeup, and her clothing was badly wrinkled. She couldn’t have looked less attractive if she’d tried.
Hay
ley skipped the shower she craved and dressed quickly. It suddenly dawned on her to wonder if Bram had a woman he waited for on a regular basis. That might explain why he was fighting their mutual attraction so hard.
Maybe he was divorced. Wondering about that was a whole lot better than wondering about what was happening here at Heartskeep.
Hayley applied makeup sparingly and settled for leaving her long hair loose, brushing it out until it crackled with energy. Her brain still felt oddly fuzzy and she had a dull headache, not to mention the fact that she was terribly thirsty again. Bram was right. She needed to eat something more substantial than toast. Her electrolytes were probably way out of sync or something.
Bram rose from the bed when she entered the room. If she hadn’t been watching closely, she would have missed the flicker of masculine approval in his gaze as he looked her over.
“Ready to go?”
A man of few words. But they were enough.
“Yes.”
He set something on her nightstand and moved forward. “I’m impressed.”
Her heart rate increased.
“Seven minutes flat.”
“Next time I’ll skip the makeup.”
The smile started in the depth of his eyes. Her body tingled warmly and everything else faded away. He might not want this attraction, but it was there all the same. And a smart woman could learn quite a bit about a man over dinner.
Chapter Five
Bram had forgotten that The Inn practically oozed cozy, quaint charm. Its interior was filled with dark, rich wood paneling, much like Heartskeep. Fortunately, the antique furnishings came without most of the fussy, frilly touches that usually accompanied such decor. The Inn not only served good food, it also served as the main hangout for the elite neighborhood.
A quick look at the prices reminded him why he’d been buying his food in town and cooking it on his small camp stove since he’d started this job.
Bram’s resolve to talk to Hayley about finishing the project faded away as she was approached by a steady stream of former friends and neighbors. Gracious and friendly, she not only introduced him to each person, she also touted his craftsmanship with an enthusiasm that would have been embarrassing if he hadn’t suspected she was trying to atone for her attempt to fire him.
He’d never spent any real time in Stony Ridge so he didn’t expect anyone to recognize him, and they didn’t. But there was always a chance someone would eventually remember his name and his connection to another prominent family from this area.
Speculation about the two of them didn’t seem to faze Hayley. Not even when several people came right out and asked if there was a wedding in the works. Hayley only smiled and said they were just friends.
Unaccountably irritated by the phrase after a while, Bram kept quiet until a man with an expensive haircut and designer clothing sauntered over to their table. He assessed Bram’s worth with a scornful glance and dismissed him, turning the full focus of his attention on Hayley. It was quickly obvious that the man Hayley introduced as Sean was the sleazy sort, always on the make. He liked to talk with his hands, but when he used them to touch Hayley’s hair, then her shoulder and her arm, Bram had to stifle a strong desire to teach him better manners.
“So, you two planning the big announcement, or what?” Sean asked archly, ignoring Hayley’s attempt to pull away. He wasn’t the sort to take a subtle hint, so reaching out, Bram clamped his hand around the younger man’s wrist. He lifted the offending appendage, speaking softly enough that his voice didn’t travel beyond their table.
“If Hayley and I were about to announce our engagement, I’d have to take you outside and break every bone in your body.” He offered a cold smile. “And if you touch her again, I’m going to start with your hand, anyhow. Just for practice.”
He ignored Hayley’s indrawn breath, slowly releasing his punishing grip on Sean’s wrist. The other man staggered back, rubbing at the red mark Bram left on his skin.
“Take it easy, man. Me and Hayley are old history. Right, Hayley? I never realized you were into the Neanderthal type, babe.”
“Go away, Sean,” she told him.
When he didn’t move, Bram started to rise. Hayley clamped a surprisingly strong hand on his arm. Sean beat a hasty retreat back to his own table and his clearly annoyed companion.
“Don’t you dare make a scene in here!” Hayley hissed.
Bram cocked his head, settling back in his chair. “I was planning to take him outside,” he said agreeably.
“I am perfectly capable of handling someone like Sean.”
“Sorry if I overstepped, but it looked to me like he was the one doing all the handling.”
“Sean’s a jerk. He’s always been a jerk. No one pays him any attention.”
Bram leaned back, feeling oddly pleased. “Then you might want to smile. From the looks we’re getting, people are starting to think we’re having an argument over your old boyfriend.”
Hayley glanced around quickly, caught herself, and glared at him. “You’re impossible.”
“So you’ve mentioned. Ouch!”
“Oh. Was that your leg?” she asked with saccharine sweetness.
He had to suppress a grin. “My fault entirely. I seem to have bumped my leg against your shoe.”
She’d keep a man on his toes—if only to keep himself from being kicked in the shins.
“What a shame. Think how much worse it would have been if I’d been wearing heels.” Still smiling, she leaned closer. “You do realize word of your macho scene with Sean will be all over town tomorrow.”
Bram might have felt guilty if there’d been any heat behind her words, but there wasn’t. He was finding it hard not to respond to the subtle signals she was putting out. His hand itched to tangle in the long mane of her hair. He’d known she was dangerous the moment he’d laid eyes on her. The handful of women who had passed through his life in recent years were nothing like Hayley. He suspected she wasn’t like any other woman, period. There was a vibrancy about her that was unique. She could be bold and sassy, or charmingly warm and gracious, but either way, she had an inner core of strength that would always serve her well. He couldn’t help thinking that if things had been different in his life, he would have constituted a much bigger threat to her than did Sean, despite the age difference between them.
Troubled by that thought, Bram watched as she tucked her hair behind her ear. He had a feeling that sudden flush to her skin had little to do with Sean, and everything to do with the chemistry that kept bubbling between them like some evil witch’s brew.
“You’d be in trouble if you lost that ear.”
“What?” Then she grinned impishly. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d have my hair cut short.”
“Now that,” he told her softly, “would be a crime. I can think of a number of interesting uses for that hair.”
Instantly, he wished he could call back the reckless words. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Hayley studied him. “Are you married?”
“No.”
She raised her eyebrows. “That was a pretty strong no. Not interested in marital bliss, huh?”
“There’s no such thing,” he said flatly.
“Ah, the jaded sort. Maybe I should have asked…”
Silently, he welcomed the middle-aged couple who approached their table with delighted smiles.
“Hayley! We didn’t realize you were in town.”
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Walken, how nice to see you. I drove in last night. May I introduce Bram Myers? He’s been doing some work for Marcus. Bram, this is Emily and George Walken. They’ve been friends of the family and our closest neighbors since before I was born.”
Bram rose and extended his hand. George Walken had a firm, solid handshake and a direct way of looking at a person. Bram liked him immediately.
“Bram, was it?” Emily asked. “Unusual name. Short for Abraham?”
“Maybe once. Now it’s simply a family name.”
/> “I see. Unusual. I saw you working on that extraordinary gate out front of Heartskeep one afternoon. Is that your own design?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m impressed,” Emily declared.
“It is impressive,” George agreed, “though I have to admit I sort of miss those old stone lions.”
Hayley sent Bram a triumphant look. “They’ll be back,” she assured the couple. “Bram has them at his place up-state. He’s going to have them restored for me.”
Bram didn’t dispute that, but the fierceness behind her words made him want to smile. He sat back down at the couple’s urging.
“Ignore George,” Emily Walken said. “He’s not much for change, but I’d like to talk to you about doing some work for us when you finish at Heartskeep.”
“I’d be happy to talk with you anytime,” Bram assured her. The couple chatted a few more minutes before leaving.
“I should have known this would happen,” Hayley said. “Everyone shows up at The Inn sooner or later.”
“Nice people. I like them.”
“So do I. They’ve always been especially kind to Leigh and me. And they know absolutely everyone. Mr. Walken grew up on his family’s estate. His father and my grandfather were best friends as well as neighbors, and George and Grandfather became just as close after the senior Mr. Walken passed away. Emily couldn’t have children of her own, so they filled their home with foster kids over the years.”
“Good people. Think they were serious about having me do some work for them?”
“I’m sure they were.”
He didn’t consciously cover her hand with his, but abruptly he realized her skin was warm beneath his palm. Warm, and exquisitely soft. The impulse to stroke that soft skin with his thumb was hard to resist. Their gazes locked. Anticipation stirred in his gut. Her expression told him that she wanted him, as well. He released her hand and looked away.
“Bram, we need to talk.”
The Firstborn Page 8