by Beth Andrews
Even Ellen hadn’t been able to say the duplex was ugly. Small, yes. But delightful in a quaint, historic-cottage way. A pale butter-yellow with blue trim around the windows and doors, the one-story wooden structure looked neat and friendly, glowing under autumn sunshine filtered through half a dozen gorgeous aspens.
And furnished made it even better. For the next nine months, he could leave all the big pieces in Chicago, which was a relief. Back home, every stick of furniture seemed saturated with memories of Lydia. That was her chair at the dinner table. That was where she sat while they watched TV. Even the pencil marks on the woodwork measuring Ellen’s growth had been made by Lydia.
Which was probably more proof that Max had been a hopelessly absentee father. But he couldn’t change the past. All he could do was rededicate himself to his daughter from now on. No do-overs in this life—but luckily you did occasionally get to start over.
And it would be easier to start over without Lydia’s ghost everywhere they turned.
He had put away his clothes and books and set up his drafting table. Later, he’d have to go buy supplies, but for now the landlady had been thoughtful, providing everything from magazines on the coffee table to knives and forks in the pantry.
Maybe he’d wait for Ellen to come back from exploring, and then they’d make a grocery run. He wasn’t very good at cooking yet, but he’d mastered the red rice with tuna horror she seemed to love best. She’d probably had it twice a week in the months since Lydia died.
He walked out to the car one more time, clearing out the last of the loose items—Ellen’s paper cup from the fast-food lunch they’d grabbed as they neared Silverdell, her tangled earbuds and the cherry-flavored lip balm she’d bought at a gas station. He dug out a paperback book about a vampire high school, which had gotten wedged between the seats. He was finally extricating himself from the SUV when he heard another car drive up beside his.
He straightened, smiling, wondering if it might be his landlady, who would also be his next-door neighbor. The agent had explained that the owner, someone named Penelope Wright, would live on the other side, though so far he’d seen no signs of her. For some reason, he’d assumed she was a retiree—maybe the old-fashioned name did that. But perhaps she wasn’t retired, and had merely been at work all day.
Reflections of aspen leaves dappled her car’s windshield, so he couldn’t see anything except the hint of a bright blue coat or dress.
He waited, still smiling a welcome, ready to start off on the right foot. But, oddly, the person in the car didn’t open the door. Maybe she was on the phone, tying up some final details before she hung up.
He turned back to the SUV, checking under the seats one last time, not wanting to look impatient. He had just collected a stray French fry when he heard the woman get out of her car and clear her throat.
“I...I...” She started over. “You...”
Poor thing. She sounded as if she might struggle with a stammer.
“Hi,” he began, turning with a smile. The rest of his greeting died on his lips. Standing in front of him was the woman from the ice-cream store.
It couldn’t be. But...
It also couldn’t be anyone else. Even without the same cute dress, silly boots, shining hair...he would never forget that face.
For a split second, the shock left him mildly uncomfortable. The encounter earlier had been so random, so strange. It had been over in less than a minute, and she’d disappeared suddenly, without a word, as if embarrassed by her boldness.
So how had she found him again? She didn’t know his name—he didn’t know hers. He hadn’t told the soda jerk anything about his plans. And yet, out of nowhere, this same woman pulled up in his driveway a few hours later?
How was it possible? Silverdell wasn’t that small.
Was there any chance this sweet-faced young woman was...
Stalking him?
“Wow. This is so awkward I honestly don’t know what to say.” The woman shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, as if she hoped that when she opened them, he wouldn’t be standing there.
But of course he was.
“Okay. So I guess you have to be Mr. Thorpe. You’re here early. I mean, that’s fine. It’s just that...I wasn’t even considering the possibility that my tenant might already be in Silverdell. Before, I mean. Earlier, I mean. When I...”
She took a deep breath, held out her hand and managed a smile. “I guess I should properly introduce myself, even if it’s a little late. I’m Penny Wright. I’m your...your....”
He took her hand. “My landlady?”
She nodded. “I cannot tell you what an idiot I feel. If I had considered, even for a second, that you...that we...”
She flushed, starting at the neck, which wasn’t very helpful, because it caused Max to focus on the graceful column of her throat. His gaze followed the pink stain up, as it spread across the delicate jawline, and then her cheeks.
And, just like that, there it was again—the hot, helpless, fourteen-year-old feeling. He wanted to kiss that pulsing spot where her throat met her chin—and at the same time he wanted to be the white knight who knew exactly what to say to make her feel better.
But he couldn’t do either one, because he was too busy hoping she couldn’t tell what she did to him...physically. He realized he still held her hand, and he let it go as nonchalantly as he could.
He fought down the sensation. This was ridiculous. The both of them, grown adults, standing here temporarily reduced to blithering idiots—all over a casual kiss. A quick, closed-mouth kiss between total strangers that had meant absolutely nothing.
Get a grip, Thorpe.
“You shouldn’t feel foolish,” he said, smiling. “It was very sweet, and I didn’t mind a bit. But if you’d rather, we could agree that it never happened.”
She nodded eagerly. “If we could, if you would...I mean, that would be terrific. I’d appreciate it. So much. That’s not really me. I mean, I don’t do things like that, ordinarily. It was just—just this silly thing I did because...you see, I was making this crazy list, and—”
He was loving the stumbling explanation, and wondering whether he might have grown too cynical, through the years. This innocent honesty didn’t look like a sham. This looked like the real thing. An adorable, awkward naïveté.
But her cascade of half sentences was cut off by the arrival of more vehicles, which pulled up in a caravan and jockeyed one at a time for parking space in the street just outside the duplex. Max looked first at the newcomers—a late-model pickup truck, a hybrid SUV and a wildly expensive sports car. Then he looked at Penny, whose expressive face was registering both surprise and annoyance.
“Oh, my goodness, they are impossible! I should never have told them the address!” She glanced at Max apologetically. “My family. I told them not to come, but they’re...well, they hover. They mean well, but—”
“Hey! Penny!” A tall blond man in a suit hopped out of the truck, strode over and scooped Penny into his embrace. “What a surprise, kiddo! Ro called and she said we needed to get over here ASAP to help.”
“Dallas!” Penny’s annoyance seemed to fade as she accepted his hug. Max watched curiously, trying to sort out the relationships. Whoever this was, she liked him. Brother, maybe? But there wasn’t much resemblance.
“I’m sorry you had to come,” she said. “I’m perfectly fine on my own. There’s really nothing to be done. My furniture won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
“Ah, but that seems to be the problem. They can’t stand the idea of you camping out on a sleeping bag. Ro and Bree are mobilizing a small army to make this place homey. The SUV is loaded with food, supplies, blow-up mattress, books, shampoos, and there may even be a lawn mower back there. You’ll be lucky if they don’t start hanging wallpaper before it gets dark.”
Penny groaned. But then she seemed to remember her manners. She stepped back from the hug, and, putting her hand on the man’s arm, included Max in her smile.
“Dallas, this is my tenant, Max Thorpe. We’ve just met, this very minute. Max, this is my brother-in-law, Dallas Garwood.”
Max shook Dallas’s hand, noting the sharp scrutiny the blue-eyed man gave him and meeting it with a bland smile and a slightly raised brow. Dallas Garwood was the distrustful type? But what about Max made him suspicious in the first place?
“Nice to meet you, Dallas,” he said politely.
Another man had stepped out of the jazzy sports car and was making his way over. His greeting was warm, but a bit more restrained, as if he weren’t quite as close to Penny as Dallas was.
“Hey, Penny. I’m Gray, and—”
“Gray!” Dallas thumped the newcomer on the shoulder. “Penny, it’s hard to believe you haven’t met Gray. He’s been underfoot for months now. He’s been dying to meet you, because somehow he’s decided you’re the only one who can persuade Bree to set a wedding date.”
Penny accepted a hug from the second man, and then rather stiltedly attempted to introduce him to Max, too.
“Grayson Harper, this is Max Thorpe, my tenant. Max, Gray is my sister Bree’s—”
“Fiancé,” Gray said, stepping forward to help smooth over Penny’s uncertainty about the label. He shook Max’s hand, and again Max was aware of getting a steely-eyed, mildly threatening appraisal.
You’d better be a good guy, the stare said. You’d better not mess with our Penny.
Damn. Max wondered whether he had picked up some kind of scary stain that looked like blood while he was in the basement. Surely he didn’t give off a serial killer vibe, did he? He was just a road-weary dad in jeans and a suede jacket, holding his daughter’s Vampire High pulp novel, and a bubblegum-blue Slurpee cup. How dangerous could he possibly look?
“Nice to meet you, Gray,” he said with a deliberately cool tone. He met the aggressive gaze without blinking.
Commotion over by the cars drew their gazes. Two women were emerging from the hybrid SUV—one blonde, one black-haired, both stunning. They laughed as they stumbled over each other and tried to extricate large casserole dishes. Their hands were covered in large blue oven mitts that said the dishes were still hot.
The sisters, no doubt. Though where the family resemblance was, Max had no idea. Obviously they were bringing dinner—and everything else under the sun. The SUV was packed to the gills with random paraphernalia. In addition to the unwieldy casserole dish she carried, the brunette sister had a potted flower tucked under one elbow. The blonde had wedged a framed picture under each arm. They were so encumbered they could hardly walk.
For a second, Max understood why Penny had looked annoyed. Hover might be an understatement.
He needed to get out of the way and let her deal with this. “I’d better go find Ellen,” he said. “We’ve had a long day.”
She frowned. “But we...” She met his gaze with an apologetic smile, as if to say she knew they needed to talk more. But then her glance angled toward the approaching women, and she shut her eyes in something that looked like exhaustion.
“We’ll talk tomorrow?” She made it a question. “About...about the lease and everything. If there’s anything the agent didn’t provide—”
“Everything seems perfect,” he assured her. It was strange—especially given that she clearly already had an army poised to protect her—but he still had the urge to put her at ease. “We’re going to turn in early, I’m sure.”
He lifted one eyebrow playfully. “Most of it is already a bit of a blur. For instance, I can hardly remember this morning.”
She gave him a grateful smile. But the sisters had reached the driveway, so she launched one more time into a rote introduction. Max said the polite phrases, shaking hands with the two beauties who stared at him as if he were Jack the Ripper. They talked about having plenty of food to share, but he insisted on heading back into his own side of the duplex.
He almost got away. Just as he reached his own door, he saw a shadow fall behind him. He turned, and wasn’t surprised to see Gray Harper standing on the front porch.
Max had figured out, finally, what must have happened. Small-town grapevines being what they were—someone must have reported the kiss.
“Look,” he said, “I don’t know what’s bugging you guys. I’m here to do a construction project, a resort just outside town called Silverdell Hills. You can look me up, if you’d like. I’m a paying tenant. I have no intention of annoying your sister-in-law in any way.”
Gray tilted his head. “Well, apparently there’s a story going around—”
“I’m sure there is. I’m not sure exactly what the story said by the time it reached you, but she kissed me, not vice versa.”
The other man grinned. Though he was irritated, Max had to admire that Gray didn’t try to deny it, or to pretend that Max had imagined the unanimous, wordless antagonism.
“Fair enough,” Gray said. “That is what we heard, actually. That she kissed you. But Ro and Bree couldn’t believe it—and it does sound a bit out of character.”
“I wouldn’t have a clue.” Max shrugged. “I hadn’t ever met her—I mean, met her by name—until ten minutes ago. When I was told I had a landlady named Penelope Wright, I pictured some blue-haired grandmother who would grow delphiniums and make cookies for my daughter.”
“She does make a mean cookie, I hear.” Gray smiled. “Look, I don’t blame you for being ticked off. But you know how sisters can be. Or you will, if you live here long. These sisters, in particular. They worry about Penny as if it were their full-time job.”
Max raised his eyebrows. “Gray. I don’t know what Penny’s problems are. But I know what mine are. I came here for some quiet time to focus on my daughter, who lost her mother last year. I’m not a con man or a pervert. But I am tired, and I need to get my daughter home, fed and put to bed.”
“Okay.” Gray nodded. “But there’s just one last thing. No offense intended, honestly. But Bree won’t sleep if I don’t tell you. See, Penny’s the baby of the family, and she’s been through a lot. When they heard the story about this morning, they about flipped.”
“Just say it, Harper,” Max said, trying not to sound as impatient as he felt. “Whatever it is, no offense taken, I guarantee.”
“Well.” Gray shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “They want you to know that Penny...well, her brother-in-law, Dallas... The thing is...he’s the sheriff.”
The sheriff? So?
Then Max understood, and, finally, he started to laugh. This was about as unsubtle a warning as he could possibly imagine. He began to wonder whether Penny might be more than merely charmingly naive. Maybe she was a little barmy. Why else would her whole family feel so frantic to caution him that she was protected?
Or...on second thought...maybe the whole family was nuts. Maybe, by renting this duplex in a hurry, he’d just stepped into the biggest nest of crazy in all of Colorado.
“Fantastic.” He let his laugh die off to a dark chuckle. “The sheriff of Silverdell. Got it. You can report that I am sufficiently intimidated by the badge. But listen. I’m going to say this one more time, and then I really think you should let it go. Your sister-in-law may have problems. In fact, I’m starting to be pretty sure she does. But I am not one of them.”
CHAPTER FOUR
ELLEN WAS SO mad at everybody she wondered if she might explode. For the past half hour, she’d been sitting under the biggest tree in the orchard behind their new place, with her back against the trunk. She was uncomfortable, but she’d rather be miserable here than cozy back at the duplex.
To let off steam, she was tearing off blades of grass and throwing them as far as she could—which wasn’t far, because it was wi
ndy and the grass kept boomeranging back in her face.
She didn’t want to be in this stupid town—if you could even call it a town when it had only one street with stores, and nothing at all to do. She wanted to be back in Chicago, with her friends.
Or at least the girls who used to be her friends.
She frowned as hard as she could, because she had a stinging in her eyes and a hot feeling in her throat that made her afraid she might cry. She picked up her cell phone for the tenth time in the past minute and checked for incoming texts. Nothing.
She had sent a group text to all her friends at least fifteen minutes ago. She wasn’t supposed to use the data package—her dad didn’t want her on the internet. The phone was only for emergencies. But she didn’t care. She needed to talk to somebody from home.
So she’d taken a picture of herself with the built-in camera, making sure you could see the mountains in the background, and she’d sent it to everyone. She was smiling like she was having the time of her life, and the text said, <3 CO! Epic sky, adorbs cottage. Miss u!
It had taken her a while to think of the perfect words. She couldn’t say duplex, of course. Cottage admitted that it was small, but it sounded quaint and fun instead of pathetic and trashy.
The picture of her was good, too. She’d held the camera high, which made her face look skinnier. Plus, she was wearing the gold earrings her mom had left her, which were very sophisticated. And real, which was important. Stephanie said only losers wore jewelry that wasn’t real.
But no one had texted back. Not even Becky, who had always been on the fringes of their group because Stephanie didn’t like her. Stephanie said Becky was greasy from eating too much fast food. Probably, though, Becky would be allowed on the inside now.