by Kate Angell
“Good morning,” she said.
“Morning,” he said, his voice sounding sleepy and sexy, like he hadn’t had coffee yet. Sidney swallowed hard against that thought.
He reached for her hand and pressed his keys into it, the metal warm from his hand. “Try to bring her back in one piece.”
Sidney smirked. “I might change her name.”
One eyebrow raised, and she had the feeling she wasn’t the only one glad for the brevity. “To what, may I ask?”
Sidney shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll try out a ‘Home, James,’ and see if it responds,” she said, playing on his last name.
“She’s not a James,” he said with a wink.
A wink that made her knees wiggle and caused her gaze to fall to his mouth. No, don’t look there.
“She’s not a she, either,” Sidney whispered, leaning forward just a bit.
“Why is this dog in my house?” Amelia Rose asked, reaching down to scratch above his wagging tail.
“He—” Sawyer cleared his throat. “He wanted to ride,” he said. “Probably smelled the pancakes all the way over here.”
“Help yourself,” Amelia Rose said, gesturing at the platter.
Sidney would give him hers, for all the good it was doing her. Nothing was going down her throat at this point. It was closed for business.
“No, I’m good,” he said. He looked at her too long, too intently, like he was looking for some kind of answer. She needed to look away, but damn it if she could. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low.
She smiled and nodded and focused downward at the dog, blinking fast before all those damn feelings of hers decided to make a showing. “Perfect,” she said, petting the animal’s head. “I’ll get it back to you as soon as I go see Crane.”
Sawyer nodded and backed up a step.
“No rush,” he said, snapping his fingers for the dog and making her jump. “Take your time.” He glanced at Amelia Rose. “Cornucopia tomorrow, okay?”
She looked up at him sideways with amused eyes. “No rush.”
Sidney saw him smirk before he walked toward the door. “Come on, Duke,” he said. “Ladies.”
And he was gone.
Sidney took a slow breath and rolled her head on her shoulders as she sank back down. “Okay, that’s over,” she breathed.
“Sweet girl, it’s only just begun,” Amelia Rose said, chuckling and pushing to her feet.
“What?”
“That man is just as head over heels as you are,” she said. “And just as hardheaded.”
Sidney’s stomach flipped. “Why—why do you say that?”
“Because I know him, for one,” she said. “He doesn’t do this. This dance you two are doing. But second? He just handed you Betsy.”
Sidney laughed, the first feel-good emotion she’d had since late last night. “True.” She rubbed her face, wishing she could squeeze her eyes back to normal. “But there’s too much—and I live in Boston.” To her, that explained it all.
Amelia Rose went to the sink and turned around. “That’s geography, Sidney. People are portable.”
Sidney laughed again, feeling a scoff coming on that weirdly faded as Amelia Rose walked closer. “And I don’t—”
“Don’t do small towns,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I know.” How did she know? Had Sidney mentioned that? “Tell me about Crane,” the older woman said, cutting off Sidney’s thought. “Why are you going to see Edmund Crane?”
“He’s the one holding the lease over Mr. Teasdale’s head,” Sidney said. “He’s playing hardball, and honestly, it makes no sense.”
Amelia Rose sat back down, her eyes intense and amused. “Let me tell you about another love story,” she said. “And then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to tag along?”
Chapter 13
“Yes, Orchid,” Sidney responded for the third time. “I’m working on it.”
“I gave you the overnight stay,” Orchid said over the speaker. Even with the phone sitting on the bed across the room, Sidney’s boss’s voice carried annoyingly well. “Honestly, I assumed you’d be heading back today. Now you’re telling me it could be Tuesday?”
“Oh my God, stay with me,” Sidney whispered to her reflection where she was trying to get ready.
“What was that?” came Orchid’s grating voice.
“Nothing,” Sidney said, twisting her hair into a professional bun, then remembering her casual look for the day and letting it fall in soft waves. “I told you, it’s not about the case. I’ve got that under control,” she lied. “My car broke down. I’m stuck here till it’s fixed.”
“Well, keep me in the loop on the wrap-up,” Orchid said. “Fax me the resolution paperwork. And I’ll pay for one more night there, but after that it’s on you.”
“Okay, thanks,” Sidney said, saluting her. As soon as there was a dial tone, she made a face. Because waiting was logical. She blew out a breath, meeting her own eyes in the mirror. “You have to make this work. You have to make this happen. Because you don’t like the mailroom people.”
* * *
“Wouldn’t have pictured you as a truck kind of girl,” Amelia Rose said, sliding into the passenger seat as Sidney got behind the wheel of Sawyer’s truck. “But you totally pull this off.”
Sidney laughed, turning over the engine and kicking it into gear. “My nana drove a pickup, actually, and I learned to drive in that. Took me a while to settle into a smaller car, although I wish now I would have just kept her truck. That thing refused to die.”
“Can’t buy a new one?” Amelia Rose asked.
Sidney sighed. “I can. Technically. I have some money my nana left me, but I just don’t want to spend it. I want there to be something special for that. Not something as ordinary as a car.”
“You getting stranded isn’t ordinary,” she said. “I’ll bet she’d want you to be safe and comfortable.”
“I know,” Sidney said. “It just hasn’t felt right.”
She might have looked at ease behind Sawyer’s wheel, but it felt weird, seeing life where he normally did. Noting the gas receipt paper clipped to the visor. The fast food napkin folded in the cubby where an ashtray used to be. A scribbled note on a Post-it. A bottle of water tucked into the door pocket. Sidney was thinking entirely too much. It was just a truck. But it was little pieces of his life, and suddenly those pieces mattered.
Everything mattered. This town, these people, their stories.
Amelia Rose told her more than just a love story. She told her about the couple on the other side of the lake who met at a party, about the woman who owned the party shop in town who finally opened her heart, about Mrs. Duggar in the dress shop who found her soul mate after forty years, about a man at the local bank who authorized the loan for the couple across the lake to buy a house, coming to the cottage to sit down with them, and the Realtor, whom he ended up marrying four months later. And she told Sidney about Edmund Crane and Arthur Teasdale, and Layla, the woman they both loved.
Pulling in and knocking on Crane’s door was the easy part. Sidney’s people skills were going to have to rise and shine. Amelia Rose standing next to her on the porch was either going to help that or sink her where she stood.
“Smile, sweetheart,” she said. “You look a dream in that pretty sweater, and Edmund Crane is a sucker for a pretty girl.”
Sidney had taken Sawyer’s advice and gone with her soft blue jeans, flats, and a white fuzzy fitted sweater that settled against her cleavage a little more than she liked. She didn’t even know why she’d packed it, as her style was more conservative, but there it was. And she didn’t really have a choice.
“He wasn’t too suckered yesterday,” Sidney said under her breath. “He basically called my bluff and informed me of the favor he was doing me, getting my car fixed.”
The big wooden door opened, and Crane’s large frame took up the open space.
“Imagine seeing you—” he began. Then he saw Amelia Rose
, and one would think he’d been poked with a live wire. Stepping back and stretching to his full height, his whole head turned red. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Edmund,” she said pleasantly. “How’ve you been?”
“Alive and well, thanks,” he blustered, turning to a bemused Sidney. “Did your car not get towed?”
“Yes, it did,” Sidney said, looking back and forth between them as Crane kept darting glances to Amelia Rose. “And Oscar said he’d order whatever parts on Monday, so I’m—basically here till it’s done.”
“Staying at the cottage,” Amelia Rose chimed in. “You know, I get a little stir-crazy in there, Sidney, maybe I’ll ride around with you while you’re in town.”
“Where are you from again?” Crane said quickly. “New York?”
“Boston,” Sidney said.
“No problem,” Crane said. “I’ll get you a car to drive back. I have some inventory in my car lot in Portland, last year’s models. I’ll have one delivered by four this afternoon.”
Sidney’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“Sure,” he said, holding out an arm like that had been on the table all along. “Keep it as long as you need.”
“As—long as I need,” Sidney echoed.
“Absolutely.”
“Why, that’s just princely of you, Edmund,” Amelia Rose said. “Now she can go back to work and tell her boss the case is all settled.”
His mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish.
“Unless it’s not settled?” she asked, frowning. “Honestly, I haven’t kept up.”
“That’s more complicated than just a car,” he said.
“Actually, not really,” Sidney said, miraculously finding her voice. “As I understand it, you’re holding the contract—that was signed in good faith and kept up in good terms for almost ten years—over Mr. Teasdale’s head as a personal vendetta?”
“As a what?” Crane bellowed.
“You heard me,” Sidney said. “You rented that building to him and his wife as a way to stay in contact with Layla Teasdale,” Sidney said.
“Layla Barton,” Crane muttered. “She never should have become a Teasdale.”
“Yep, keep making my case for me,” Sidney said with a smile. “And then when she died, and her husband closed the shop, you refused to let him out. Out of spite.”
“Out of respect for Layla,” he said. “She loved that shop. It made her smile. Even after she got sick.” Crane pushed through the door and walked to the end of the porch. “She’d be crushed to see it closed like that.”
“She’d be crushed to see her husband go into financial ruin paying rent for nothing,” Sidney said. “All so you can stick it to the man who got her?”
“You don’t get it,” he said, whirling around. “Have you ever been in love, little girl?”
Sidney’s mouth went dry. “I hardly think—”
“It doesn’t come again,” he said. “You think it will, but it won’t. You have to grab on before someone steals it from you.” Sidney felt Amelia Rose’s eyes on her. “I’ve been married and divorced four times. Because he got the love of my life. At one of her parties!” he finished, pointing at Amelia Rose.
Sidney looked at Amelia Rose. “Okay, this just got wonky,” she said under her breath.
“Edmund, you’ve been blaming me, blaming Arthur, even blaming Layla and probably all your ex-wives for years. Blaming everyone for your unhappiness except for you,” Amelia Rose said. “Take some ownership of your life, will you?”
“She and I were just fine till they hooked up at that cottage,” he said. “With all your voodoo.”
“Good Lord, Edmund,” she said, laughing. “Voodoo? Really? How about good old-fashioned chemistry and a man who didn’t boss her around?” Amelia Rose stepped closer. “Forty years ago. Let it go.”
“And then you took Sawyer,” he growled.
“Who wasn’t a child,” Amelia Rose said gently. “I didn’t win custody. I offered him a job. Didn’t yell at him or make him do shady things.”
“We aren’t here to talk about Sawyer,” Sidney said, trying to rope the conversation back in. This was what had happened with the Carson Foods account meeting, and she couldn’t bear another one of those. “We’re here to resolve this case. And I have to be honest with you, Mr. Crane,” she said. “If you insist on this insane breach of ethics, you’ll need to contact your own lawyer. Because we’ll bleed you dry in court.”
“Court?” he repeated.
Yes, and she prayed he wouldn’t bite. Her case would win, but she didn’t know whether she had the skills for court.
“Over this petty crap,” Sidney added.
Crane’s mouth worked again, his face went red again, and then his lips pressed in a hard line.
“Fine.”
“Fine, what?” Sidney asked.
“He can have out,” Crane muttered. “I’ll sit with that elephant till I can sell it.”
Sidney felt like her feet might leave the ground. She’d won. She’d fucking won. She’d won for Orchid’s uncle! She wasn’t a loser after all.
“Excellent choice,” Sidney said, pulling a file from the bag on her shoulder. “If you’d just sign—here and here.”
“Seriously, you brought it with you?”
“Wasn’t a social call,” Sidney said. “And thanks for the car, by the way!”
It was all she could do not to squeal on the way back to the truck, and even then she had to wait till she was out of the driveway.
“Oh my God!” she yelled, banging the steering wheel.
“Careful,” Amelia Rose said. “Betsy might talk.”
“That was—that was crazy,” Sidney gushed. “Freaking crazy. I’ve never—just wow.”
“You were impressive,” Amelia Rose said.
Sidney’s head jerked her way. “Me? No, no, no, that was you.”
“No, ma’am,” Amelia Rose said. “I might have flustered him, but you went in for the kill and took it,” she said. “That was phenomenal to watch.”
Sidney looked at her and blinked. “You think?”
“I know.” Amelia Rose patted her arm, and Sidney felt warmth go to her toes. “And I think your nana would be proud.”
Oh, there was a button to push. Sidney’s eyes burned, and she sucked in a cold breath to stem it. No more crying. She’d done enough of that.
“Too bad you don’t like small towns,” Amelia Rose said, looking out her window. “We could use a people-lawyer like you around here.”
Sidney almost choked. “People-lawyer?”
“Yes,” Amelia Rose said. “Don’t look so shocked. Someone to work for the little guy, like you just did.”
Sidney chuckled. “There’s something I’ve never been accused of. And operating out of my falling-apart car probably would be a little too much little guy.”
“I don’t know,” Amelia Rose said. “I happen to know of an old soda shop going on the market.” Sidney met her eyes as the older woman shrugged. “I’m betting you could get it for a steal. Could be a worthy investment.”
Sidney faced forward again, the words bouncing around the inside of the truck. She shook her head. “That would be crazy.”
Amelia Rose smirked. “Boy, if I had a nickel.” She slapped her knee. “But—you have to go where you’re happiest. So. Going back to Boston tonight?”
All Sidney’s happy vibes melted away into the vinyl seat. Back to Boston. Where you’re happiest. Once upon a time, she would have said those two things went together, but not lately. Not job-wise. And not—not now.
“I suppose I am,” Sidney said, hearing the disappointment in her own voice. “I guess the fun is over.”
This was what she’d wanted since she’d arrived yesterday. Good grief, was that just yesterday? Since she’d laid eyes on him, all she had focused on was being able to get the hell out of there. To get back to normal.
Here you go, Sidney. Now you can leave.
“Well,
you do know you can come back to visit any time, don’t you?” Amelia Rose asked.
“Be careful,” Sidney said, smiling. “I may take you up on that.”
“I know someone else who might appreciate it, as well,” Amelia Rose said, nodding her head sideways as they parked in front of the cottage.
Nodding in the direction of a man in worn jeans and a denim jacket over a black pullover shirt. Blowing a multitude of colored leaves with a leaf blower, corralling them into a big pile. Her chest tightened around her heart, watching him. She had to say good-bye. God, how was she going to do that?
How did a quick drive to Maine to get herself out of a pickle—get so pickled?
Chapter 14
Sawyer saw his truck pull up in front of the cottage, and he was both relieved and wary. They hadn’t been gone long. Certainly not long enough to deal with Crane. His first concern was for Amelia Rose, but she got out laughing. Then out climbed Sidney. In soft jeans that hugged her ass and showed her every move, and a sweater that begged to be touched.
“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath.
He’d touched enough last night. Touched enough to make her cry and keep him up all night. And very little of that had to do with body parts.
“Walk away,” he said under his breath, turning toward the shed.
It was lunchtime. A reasonable excuse to make himself scarce, head the back way home for a sandwich and some sanity. Keep some distance between himself and the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. He had two days or so left to pace that out, so he had to start now. He had no business falling for Sidney Jensen. Again.
He stowed the blower back in its place and turned in time for his gut to take a kick. Sidney was walking up to the doorway, looking like an angel. An angel who instantly had his dick hard with about fifteen different ideas, and his heart not hard enough.
“Hey,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Hey.”
“Just—bringing back your keys,” she said, uncrossing her arms again and dangling the key ring from a finger.