by Debra Webb
But the bigger question was why he lied to Linc about any of it. Why not just spell it all out?
Why seek him out and lie about how he’d discovered the woman he suspected was Lori? None of it made any kind of sense. Blossom wasn’t a major tourist attraction, and Mort sure as hell wasn’t a plant lover. He had paid a neighbor’s kid to mow his lawn.
There was no logical reason for him to have come here.
Unless he’d known she was here.
Linc’s bum leg gave out, throwing him off balance. He grabbed back his equilibrium and sucked in a breath. No way.
No way.
There had to be another explanation.
Bile roiling in his gut, Linc forced one foot in front of the other. The bed-and-breakfast was his destination. He needed a drink. He hadn’t let a single drop pass his lips since laying eyes on her.
But right now, it might be the only way he survived the night without doing something stupid.
Like tearing this whole damned town apart for some answers.
Chapter Eight
Tuesday, June 28, 2:10 p.m.
Mia scooted out of her truck and hurried up the walk to her aunt’s nineteenth-century antebellum house. The call for an impromptu visit had been worrying Mia for the past hour, but her aunt had insisted that she should wait until she was finished for the day before coming by.
They needed to talk.
Mia and her aunt visited frequently, but this felt different. Her aunt had sounded unnerved. Almost nothing rattled Gloria Lopez. She worked with animals every day, not to mention their sometimes neglectful masters, and she never ran out of patience. If something was bothering Gloria, it was a pretty big deal.
“Gloria?” Mia called as she poked her head inside the front door. Most folks, especially family, didn’t bother to knock when dropping by. Mia usually did knock but she was expected so the formalities weren’t necessary. Besides, Gloria had customers in and out most days.
“In here, Butterfly!”
Mia found her aunt in the big back room she’d transformed into her pet oasis. She did the grooming on an enclosed back porch, but this room was designed, decorated and lovingly used as a haven for her four-legged customers. Gloria sat in a big old rocker swaying back and forth with a beagle in her lap.
“She’s been upset since her mommy dropped her off an hour ago.” Gloria rubbed the dog between the ears. “But she’s just about ready for her bath.”
Plopping into a matching rocker, Mia smiled. The pets Gloria groomed were very lucky animals. A couple of Labs were sprawled on the floor. Neither one bothered to lift his head at Mia’s arrival, though they swished their tails. Three cats were curled up on window ledges or the backs of chairs.
Gloria Lopez was an amazing woman who had turned her widowhood into a beautiful thing. She swore that she just couldn’t think of a better way to spend Edward’s insurance money. Mia had a feeling that Gloria used the animals to keep the loneliness at bay. Even ten years later Gloria couldn’t see herself with anyone but Edward. Now that was love.
Not a day passed that Mia didn’t wonder if she would ever know what that kind of love was like. The image of Lincoln Reece filtered through her brain. She banished it, wondering what in the world made her think of the man. “So what’s up?”
Gloria pouched her lips into a pout. “What happened to hello and how was your day?” She shook her head, sending her store-bought, golden, curly locks tossing side to side. The pale color was a sharp contrast to her olive skin. Gloria had been born in Mexico but her Tennessee rearing had insured she spoke like a true Southern lady. Her only accent was the famous Dixie drawl. “You young people have no appreciation for the art of conversation.”
“Sorry.” They had this debate at least once a week. “How was your day?”
Gloria tipped her head around in a dramatic circle and widened her eyes. “Cra…zy. Katherine Ingle let Trixie get all matted then she burst into tears when she saw how short I had to trim the poor thing’s coat. Dwayne Lester’s grandpa passed and he had to leave Sheba and Shad with me.” She hitched her head toward the two Labs. “He hasn’t a clue when he’ll be back.” She blew out a big breath and eyed Mia knowingly. “Then your uncle Vince called all worked up.”
Finally, they were getting to the reason for this command visit. “Is something wrong?”
“He’s worried about you.” Gloria settled the beagle on the rug. “Let’s have a glass of tea.”
Mia really needed to go. She still had to get over to the Reid house. Mr. Reece would be waiting. But trying to get away before her aunt was ready for her to go was next to impossible. Besides, ignoring her uncle’s concerns usually prompted a visit where he would obsess over Mia’s decisions and activities. The man was going to worry himself into an early grave. According to Gloria, her husband, Vince’s brother, had been every bit as bad.
In the kitchen, Gloria poured two tall glasses of iced tea and settled them on the big table in the center of the room. “Vince is concerned that you’re working too hard.” Gloria gave her that knowing look again. “You know what the doctors said about that.”
Here they went. “Aunt Gloria, I’m fine.” The doctors had warned Mia about physical and mental stress when she’d first left the rehabilitation clinic. That had been almost six years ago. “It’s been four years since I was officially released from medical care. I can be normal now.” Mia said the last a little more pointedly than she’d intended. Gloria noticed.
“Your father would have wanted Vince and me to take good care of you. You were everything to him.”
Mia felt instantly contrite. Gloria and Vince had given up a great deal to take care of her. Those first two years had been rough. Mia had required round-the-clock care. She’d had dozens of surgeries. Relearning everything from walking to reading and writing had been necessary. That metamorphosis was why they had nicknamed her Butterfly. Mia owed them both a great deal. She couldn’t imagine what would have become of her without them.
“I know, and I appreciate the concern. But I’m fine.” Despite her best efforts, exasperation filtered into Mia’s voice. “You know how Uncle Vince is. If he had his way I’d lie on the sofa all day with servants waiting on me hand and foot.”
Gloria smothered a smile with a sip of tea. “You don’t need to work so hard. Your father left you well cared for.” She shook her head. “I don’t see why you insist on taking on projects.”
Now Mia got it. They’d heard about Lincoln Reece. Her uncle was insanely protective. The idea of Mia working for a stranger had likely sent him through the roof. “I love my work.” A cat curled around her ankles, rubbing against her leg.
“Vince would like you to come down to Bogotá for a few days. You haven’t taken a vacation in ages.”
Mia had to leave. She wasn’t going to get hijacked into this any deeper. She stood. “Gloria, I have an appointment. I have to go. I’ll call Uncle Vince tonight. Taking a vacation right now is out of the question. Maybe next month.”
The trapped expression on her aunt’s face warned that she was mentally scrambling for a logical counter. Before she could come up with something, Mia rounded the table and kissed her on top of the head. “I’ll talk to you later. Tell Uncle Vince to stop worrying.” Mia sighed. “I’m a grown, healthy woman. I can take care of myself.”
“Just be careful,” Gloria cautioned. “No one knows this man who just blew into town throwing money around. He might not be what he appears to be.”
Mia knew it. She promised to keep that in mind, then hustled out of there before her aunt thought of some other advice or counsel. Between her and Vince, Mia was lucky to breathe on her own.
Blossom was small so the drive to the Reid house took only seven minutes. Reece was there. At least, his SUV was parked behind the house. That was the one drawback to these old houses in town, if there was off-street parking it was in the back. Mia parked at the curb and grabbed her toolbox. She’d come back to the truck for a ladder. Mercy, she h
ated being late.
The front door opened as she climbed the steps. Reece nodded. “You made it.”
Mia mentally cringed. “Yes, I did.” She wasn’t going to bore him with details of her overprotective family. Instead, she thrust the toolbox at him. “Take this and I’ll get the ladder.”
“How about you keep that and I’ll get the ladder.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. He crossed the porch and descended the steps, brushing right past her. Mia’s breath caught. She swallowed, shook herself. Whatever aftershave or cologne he wore seriously messed with her olfactory system. Each time he was close she felt as if she couldn’t breathe deeply enough. Silly allergies. She hadn’t stumbled upon many things that triggered a reaction, but when she did it was usually brutal. Occasionally dogs and cats prompted a reaction but not so often. Hopefully, her client’s scent wouldn’t become too much of a problem.
That was a far better excuse than the other one making her suddenly too warm in her well-worn jeans and comfortable work T-shirt. She shook her head and walked through the door he’d left open. Inside, unexpected odors replaced the sexy male scent playing havoc with her senses. The house smelled of wood and paint cleaners. Either Reece or Chandra had hired a cleaning team. The old house sparkled. Too bad Mia was just going to make a new mess. Hard as she tried, there was no way to avoid some sanding.
“Where do you plan to start?”
Mia turned to Reece. She wondered if the grimace he wore was about the limp she’d noticed. Getting through that meal last night without asking about it had been a real test of her willpower. She had considered a dozen ways to introduce the topic, like the fact that she had a few pins and metal plates herself. Nearly two years of therapy had allowed her to function normally but it had been a long, hard road. Lord knew last night she had lost control of her tongue on the subject of his wife. She just hadn’t been able to stop. She’d had to know.
“I always like to start with the worst and work my way to the not so bad.” Cleaning up the mess was more efficient that way. “Since the rooms upstairs don’t need any major plasterwork, how about I start with the ceilings down here?” Ceilings made the worst mess and the repairs were usually the most involved. Leaks and wiring changes were the typical culprits. They made for fairly large holes in the plaster. She pointed to the dining room. “Kitchen’s got the metal ceiling, so I’ll move from the dining room forward to the parlors and entry hall.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He moved the ladder to the dining room and set it up beneath the worst of the cracks and the areas of missing plaster.
He favored his right leg beneath the weight of the ladder. It wasn’t that heavy but clearly the additional strain was uncomfortable for Reece. Mia bit her lips together to hold back the questions.
“I stocked the kitchen with snacks and drinks. If there’s something you prefer, just say the word.” He looked from the ladder to her.
Mia grinned. This guy really was anxious to get this work done. Folks who didn’t want their contractors leaving the property for meals or breaks always provided refreshments. “Perfect.” She hoped he wasn’t going to stand around watching. Having an audience when working on one of the tour homes was vastly different from having a homeowner stand around and watch her every move.
Only one thing to do. She gathered her tools and the plaster compound and went to work. To distract herself from his watchful gaze, she hummed. She knew better than to try singing. That would get her run off before she got the first coat skimmed on. Sadly, she could not carry a tune in a bucket.
Eventually Reece wandered from the room. Mia kept working, falling into that rhythm that was as familiar as breathing. The wider cracks required careful attention and numerous thin layers to bring the gaps level with the rest of the ceiling, more than a century old.
“Water?”
Mia blinked, drawing back from the intense focus of her work. “I’m sorry, what?”
He held out a bottle of water. “You’ve been working for more than an hour. I thought you might be thirsty.”
Mia placed her pan and blade on top of the ladder and pulled a rag from her apron pocket to wipe her hands. “Sure.” As she climbed down, a twinge nipped her left hip, making her wince. Reece was more right than he knew. A break was exactly what she needed. Staying on the ladder for too many hours in a day was a mistake she tried to avoid. But Reece had been anxious for her to begin and once she got going she lost all track of time.
“Thanks.” She accepted the chilled bottle and twisted off the top. The cold water felt good sliding down her throat. She sighed with satisfaction. “I know it’s not eco-smart but there’s nothing handier than bottled water.”
Reece was staring at her again. She should have gotten used to that by now. But this time he stared at her left hip.
“You take a tumble?”
There it was…her lead-in. Her curiosity was stirred. “Naw, it’s an old injury.”
He nodded, took a swig of his water.
“How about you?” She gestured to his leg.
“Old injury.”
That hard-to-breathe sensation swooped in before she could fill her lungs. “Car accident seven years ago.” She forced some more water down her suddenly tight throat. Her parents had died in that accident. Not a single memory of that night or the three months that followed had survived the brain damage she’d suffered. Her entire history had vanished from the scrambled gray matter in her skull.
“Boat explosion.” He turned up the bottle, and the muscles of his throat flexed and contracted as he sucked down half the water. Then he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. “Seven years ago.”
So, they had something in common. “Thirteen surgeries.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Five.”
“I lost my parents in the accident.” Mia had no idea why she felt compelled to continue along these lines. She had the answer to why he favored his left leg. Somehow she felt totally comfortable talking about this with him, which was strange considering only a few moments ago she’d had difficulty breathing. Something he’d said before hit her hard. “Was this the same explosion…?”
He nodded. “Same one.”
That choking sensation was back full force. “It’s tough to go through something like that, especially when you lose your family in the same process.”
“Yeah.” He turned away, walked to the window. “One minute you have it all, the next minute it’s gone.”
He stood at the window, the jeans and shirt molded to a masculine body that looked anything but hollow or damaged. It looked so sexy, Mia had to tell herself to breathe. Why had he come here? He had no family or friends here. No wife or girlfriend to please. Why Blossom? That passing-through story was a cop-out. This place didn’t fit her conclusions about him. He didn’t fit anything about this town.
She dared to join him at the window. “You are running away.” Last night he’d said he wasn’t running.
“Some would call it that.”
She studied his profile. The cut of his jawline. The high, lean cheekbones that lent a look of weariness and defeat to his somber words. The scar that spoke of tragedy. “What would you call it?”
He turned his face to hers and stared directly into her eyes. Her heart thumped hard. His eyes were such a vivid blue, they drew her, made her want to keep looking way past what was socially acceptable.
“I came here looking for something. I guess time will tell if I’ve found it.”
That subtle scent he wore…his eyes…the sound of his voice. All of it bombarded her, prompting reactions she couldn’t name. “I…” She licked her lips, which abruptly felt as parched as her throat despite the bottle of water. “I should get back to work.”
“That song,” he said, slowing her escape.
She turned back to him, her fingers tightening around the water bottle until it crinkled. “Song?”
“The one you were humming.” He hummed a few notes in that deep, deep voice. She s
hivered as if a blast of winter air had swept through the old windows. “What’s the name of it?”
Mia knew the one. It was old but she loved it. “‘When a Man Loves a Woman.’ Percy Sledge.” That song was her favorite. She didn’t remember where she’d first heard it.
He made a sound, not a laugh but something like that. “Thought so. It was my wife’s favorite song. We danced to that song at our wedding.”
Pain slashed through Mia’s skull. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for it to pass. Random pains went with the territory after surviving the kind of accident that claimed two other lives.
“You okay?”
She opened her eyes. He’d moved closer. Now he hovered so near that she couldn’t draw in a breath without tasting his scent. “I’m good. Tired, that’s all.”
Mia walked deliberately to her ladder, fought back the crazy reactions he or his words had invoked and went back to work. She swiped her blade across the ceiling, worked hard at exiling him from her head. He stood right there in the middle of the room, watching her. His gaze was like a fire sweeping across her skin. She could feel the heat scorching every part of her that his eyes touched. Ignore him. Don’t look.
She didn’t relax until he left the room. Mia blew out a breath. This job was going to be a lot more complicated than she’d expected. “Not because of you,” she muttered to the old house. It was him. He made her more uncomfortable than any person she could recall meeting.
The back door slammed hard, echoing through the empty house. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable. Maybe she’d asked too many questions. Another odd effect he had on her.
Mia worked for several more minutes until her curiosity got the better of her. Had he left? He hadn’t come back into the house. She couldn’t stand not knowing. If he came back in, she decided as she climbed down from her perch on the ladder, she would busy herself washing her hands in the kitchen sink. He would never know she’d been checking to see if he was still around.