by Cheri Allan
Kate’s mind scrambled to keep up. “But why do you have them?”
“Oh, the crematorium called your father’s office when they couldn’t reach you at home. It’s been two months and they wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten them, so I picked them up. What a rigmarole that was! They almost didn’t give them to me. Anyway, they’re here now, so I need your address. I’ll have Jill FedEx them this afternoon.”
Oh Lord, is it even legal to FedEx something like that?
Kate didn’t bother to point out that her father’s secretary probably wouldn’t appreciate having to handle her dead husband’s remains any more than Rosaria. And there was no use suggesting they could stay in Connecticut until she returned home.
Promising to e-mail Jill her address, Kate said her goodbyes then let out a choked, semi-hysterical laugh.
Great. How was she supposed to find her passion with dead Randy sitting around in a box?
CHAPTER SEVEN
____________________
“I HEAR YOU’VE GOT A HOT YOUNG widow living next door now.”
Jim rolled his eyes and stared at his life-long friend, Alex Lamont. “You shouldn’t socialize with Carter so much. It’s bad for your health.”
Alex shrugged. “I would have been socializing with you, but he warned me you were in a foul mood. You missed a good game last night.”
Jim ignored him and grabbed a package of hamburger rolls off the shelf.
Alex pointed at the display. “Get some hotdog rolls, too. No, not the wheat. The good kind.”
Jim grabbed a jumbo pack of hotdog rolls and pushed the grocery cart ahead of him.
“Tell me again why we’re grocery shopping instead of, hell, anything else?” Alex pressed.
Staring at the jars of condiments, Jim blew out a breath. “I volunteered.”
“Why?” Alex grabbed a jar of mustard off the shelf and held it out. “Is brown the same thing as Dijon? Susan said she wanted Dijon.”
“I think I flashed the hot young widow next door.”
“You what?” Alex fumbled the mustard jar then set it carefully in the cart.
Jim’s voice was a low mumble, “I was skinny-dipping last night—”
“And you do this often?”
He gave his friend a hard look. “Do you want to hear or not?”
Alex absently threw a couple jars of relish in the cart. “Absolutely.”
“Long story short—I felt like a swim and when I stopped by this morning so she could help me move an extra sofa into the cottage, she blushed. And maybe snickered. It was hard to tell.”
“You go for an impromptu swim in the buff, and you think you’ve been caught because she looked flushed while hauling heavy furniture?”
“Yes.”
Alex rolled his eyes and pushed the cart toward the ketchup and chili sauce. “Your conscience is working overtime. Did she say anything?”
“Of course not.”
“Then we’re really only going on speculation at this point.”
“Alex, I think I know when I have or have not flashed a woman.”
“That much experience, eh? I thought this was an infrequent thing.”
“I’m getting the lettuce and tomatoes,” Jim announced, pushing the cart purposefully down the aisle.
“Oh, no. You don’t get to change the subject that easily. This sounds like a problem. Do your clothes fall off often? How did this happen? I don’t think I’m the only one concerned about this…”
“Very funny. I had a fire call. I was hot and sweaty, and I thought I’d take a swim to cool off. Clean up. Enough said. But this morning, when I offered to lend her that extra couch from my basement—because Grams took most of the furniture when she moved out—we get onto the porch with it and her son yells, ‘watch out’ because we’re knocking into the light fixture. And she says, ‘Don’t worry. It doesn’t work, anyway.’” Jim stopped meaningfully.
“So?”
“So, I asked how she knew, and she said she’d come out last night to drink her tea on the porch after her son went to bed… She was on the porch, Alex. After dark.”
Alex stopped the cart with his foot. “Wait a minute. Are you insane? You’re after another woman with a kid?”
“Out of everything I said that’s what you focus on?” Jim pushed the cart forward. “And I’m not after anybody. She’s my neighbor. I was being neighborly. I brought her a couch. I wasn’t the one skulking around in the dark spying on people...”
“Technically, I think you’re both guilty of skulking.” Alex shook his head. “Why can’t you hook up with a nice single woman with no strings attached? Just once?”
“I’m not hooking up. Or dating. I’m taking a break. I enjoy being a bachelor.”
“Since when?”
Jim scowled at Alex’s dubious expression. “I’m not Carter. I can live without a new woman around every corner. I have hobbies. Interests.”
“Name one.”
“I don’t know. I used to carve. I could do that again.”
“Like that’ll last.”
“Your point?”
“My point is you’re a serial monogamist. You go from one, long, ill-fated relationship to another. Before Justine there was Megan. Before that, what was it? Leeann? Lee?”
“Leah.”
“Right. And let’s not forget Velcro Veronica.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call her that...”
“Did she ever let you out of her sight? Anyway, you can’t not be involved with a woman. It’s who you are. Trouble is you always pick the wrong ones. Women with issues. And baggage.” He wheeled the cart toward the produce section. “You want my advice?”
“No.”
“What you need is a woman who just wants to have fun. Skip the heavy stuff. And the needy ones. And definitely skip the ones with kids.”
“You’re a regular poster child for fatherhood. Does Suz know you talk this way?” Jim gave up trying to open the plastic produce bag he’d been struggling with and tossed a bunch of tomatoes loose in the cart. “Anyway, easier done if I avoid women altogether. Not so easy if they’re at Grams’ barbecue.”
“It’s your fault for inviting her.”
“I didn’t. Grams must’ve called her.”
“Ah. So she’s at your Gram’s house and that’s why we’re here?”
Jim threw a head of iceberg into the cart. “Bingo.”
Alex shook his head. “There’s something wrong in the universe when a single, heterosexual male has to hide from women for his own safety.”
“Tell me about it.”
“That was a joke, man. Suck it up. I highly doubt she’s going to jump your bones at your Grams’ barbeque just because you flashed her. You’re not that good-looking.”
“Thanks.”
Alex grinned. “Anytime.”
“CAN I HELP WITH ANYTHING?” Kate hovered near the kitchen door, assured for the hundredth time that Liam was perfectly fine playing in the sand box with his newfound friends, twins Jimmy and Alexi Lamont.
Ruth Pearson waved Kate in. “Please. My granddaughter is driving me crazy.”
The granddaughter in question pushed an enviable mass of auburn hair over her shoulder and eyed a jumbo pack of ground beef with distaste. “I was just asking where everybody was. All my relatives seem to be conveniently late.”
All her relatives? Great. Any hopes of avoiding Jim were quickly diminishing. As if this day hadn’t been awkward enough with him delivering that couch and flexing tanned muscles all over the place while Kate pretended she hadn’t seen him in all his glory. Lovely.
But Ruth had insisted she come, and seeing as Kate was staying at Ruth’s cottage for free for the next couple months, it seemed rude to say no. Kate washed her hands. Nothing said she couldn’t hide in the kitchen for as long as possible. “I can help make burgers if you’d like.”
Ruth’s granddaughter heaved a grateful sigh and pushed the package of ground beef forward. “Thank you. I cannot
handle meat. By the way, I saw you drive in earlier. Your son’s adorable. I’m Grace.”
Kate smiled and nodded awkwardly, her hands already in the hamburger. “Thanks. I’m Kate.”
“So you’re staying in Sugar Falls for the summer?”
“Yes. At least that’s the plan for now. I’m on... leave.”
“Like a sabbatical kind of thing?”
“Not exact—”
“Grace, before you embarrass yourself,” Ruth cut in, “you should know—Kate is recently widowed. I’ve invited her to stay at the cottage to have some peace and quiet.”
Grace’s eyes grew huge. “Widowed? I am so sorry. How did it happen?”
“Grace.”
“It’s okay,” Kate assured them. “It was a car accident.”
“Oh, no. What happened?”
“Grace!” Ruth hissed.
Kate stared at the raw beef in her hands, looked up. “The truth is, nobody knows. He was an alcoholic, but he hadn’t been drinking. It was late at night. He was driving too fast to make the turn. They said there might have been fog or maybe an animal was in the road...” Kate trailed off. Who would ever know what happened that night? Although the animal theory never struck Kate as likely. Randy used to yell ten points! each time he accidentally hit something, as if they were playing some macabre video game and he hadn’t just run over a living creature.
Grace didn’t say a word, her mouth a silent ‘oh.’
Kate went back to shaping hamburgers. “I’m sorry. That’s probably more than you wanted to know.”
Grace went to Kate then, throwing her arms around her, momentarily knocking the breath out of her. “Oh, God, no! I’m an idiot for prying. I’m so sorry I put you on the spot. How awful!” She gave Kate another squeeze, and when Kate pulled back she saw tears pooling in Grace’s eyes.
“Grace, enough already,” Ruth chided from the other side of the island. “You’re the only one crying, for heaven’s sake.”
“It’s so tragic!”
“I’m really okay,” Kate insisted, finding it somewhat surreal that she felt the need to comfort Grace.
“I’m sorry,” Grace mumbled as she swiped at her nose. “Oh, God, I need a tissue.” With that she pushed through the door into the next room.
Kate looked at Ruth.
“Before you ask, yes, she’s always like that. A bull in an emotional china shop. You get used to it. Oh, where is that infernal colander? I swear, I’ve been here a year, and I still can’t find where anything is in this kitchen. Good heavens, what is it doing in here?”
Ruth pulled the colander out of a cupboard next to the side door and brought it to the sink.
Kate shaped another burger. “One of my friends back home is a caterer. She showed me how to organize my kitchen for maximum efficiency. I’d be happy to come over some afternoon to see if we could use some of her strategies. If you like. I don’t mean to intrude.”
“Like? Oh, bless your heart, Kate. I’d love it! You’d think that moving from my tiny kitchen to this big one would make life easier, but it’s been the opposite. What are some of her tricks?”
“Well, she took the doors off her upper cabinets, for one thing, but that’s a little extreme for most people. Mostly, she said to think of the kitchen as different stations of activity and be sure it doesn’t take more than two movements to reach anything you use often.”
“We’ve got a church yard sale coming up. Maybe that would be a good time to go through everything. Not until you’re settled, of course…”
“Just let me know when you need me.”
“Aren’t you a sweetheart? Ah, here are the boys! Right on schedule.” Kate tried to appear nonchalant as the sound of car doors slamming met her ears. “Jim! Come here and grab that bowl for me, will you? Kate has her hands full.”
Kate could feel the heat rise in her face as Jim set his grocery bags on the counter and brushed past her. He retrieved the bowl, his shirt pulling taut across his shoulders as he did so. Kate concentrated on her task and willed the wild butterflies in her stomach to quiet down already.
Ruth opened the grocery bags and inspected the tomatoes. “Where are the veggie burgers?”
Jim shrugged. “They weren’t on the list.”
“Weren’t they? Oh, bother. Grace is counting on them, and there are none in the freezer. Would you mind running back to town and picking some up?”
“Why can’t Grace do it?”
“She’s helping your folks get the boat ready for later.” Ruth pointed through the window toward the boat.
“I don’t see her out there.”
“Well, anyway, you can take Kate! It’d be good for someone to show her how to get to the stores. You know how confusing that new intersection can be. I’m sure Susan will be happy to watch Liam while you’re gone.”
Jim turned to Kate, his expression closed.
“You can point me in the right direction,” Kate said as she washed her hands. “I can pick up the burgers. I’m sure I can find my way.”
Jim simply adjusted his cap and pulled it low over his eyes. “I don’t mind.”
JIM HELD THE DOOR AS KATE SLID onto the bench seat of his truck, her purple shorts pulling snug across her bottom as she shimmied onto the seat. He found it strangely erotic that she wore clothes the color of popsicles. Pulling his gaze from her thighs, he cleared his throat and shut the door.
He didn’t consider himself overly modest, but the distinct possibility that this woman—correction, mother—had seen him in the buff was awkward as hell. He couldn’t imagine what she must be thinking right now, stuck in a truck with an exhibitionist.
Jim started the engine, cleared his throat again and tried to concentrate on the road.
“Would you like a cough drop?”
Jim kept his eyes on the road. “No. Why?”
“That’s the fourth time you’ve cleared your throat. I thought perhaps...”
He cleared it again. “Throat’s dry is all.”
“Oh.”
He shifted down at the stop sign and made the mistake of glancing at Kate.
She sat quietly, her breasts rising and falling evenly under her white T-shirt, the material smooth and taut...
Jim began to clear his throat then decided to disguise it with a cough. Mistake. Now Kate was peering at him with open concern.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Fine. Too many fire calls lately. Always dries me out.”
“So you’re a fireman and a plumber?”
“No. A volunteer firefighter and a carpenter/general contractor.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest you were just a plumber or anything—”
“It’s all right. I’ve the highest respect for plumbers. I just don’t happen to love the work. Water and I don’t always get along.”
He nearly choked again when he realized what he’d said. Kate was looking out the passenger window, but he could see her face flushing pink, her lips fighting a smile.
“Anyway,” he said, heat flushing his own face, “I prefer carpentry. I just meant that water’s often the cause of the problems I’m called in to fix.”
“I see,” she replied. “So you enjoy carpentry more?”
Grateful they were finally at the grocery store—and on safe conversational ground—he pulled into the parking lot. “Yes.”
“Rough or smooth?”
Jim whipped his head around. “Pardon me?”
“I mean, finish. Do you prefer rough or finish work?” A slight hint of a smile played around her lips. God they were lush. Like that actress, what’s-her-name.
His gaze dropped to where her hands lay, loosely clasped between her thighs. “Smooth. Incredibly smooth.”
“Pardon me?”
Did he just say that out loud? “I mean, finish,” he said, yanking the truck into the nearest space and flinging the door wide. “I like finish work best.”
He shut the driver’s door, pocketed his keys and rounded
the back of the truck to open her door. Good Lord. What the hell was wrong with him? The last time he’d acted like this around a female, his voice was still cracking, and back then the only thing on his mind was making it past second base.
Kate slid out of the truck, her purse strap running diagonally through her cleavage. Jim tore his eyes away with effort and turned toward the store.
Clearly nothing had changed.
“IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE I can help with?” Kate emptied the last bag of chips into a serving bowl and looked around the kitchen. Bowls of homemade potato and garden salads sat next to trays of burgers and hotdogs ready for the grill. A giant pot of water heated on the stove, awaiting a pile of shucked corn on the cob.
Ruth shook her head. “Thanks to you, I think we’re all set in here. Can you hand me that ring by the sink?”
Kate picked up the delicate sapphire and diamond band. “It’s lovely. Anniversary gift?”
Ruth clucked. “Engagement ring. Surprised he could even afford this, we were so young, but he was a sweetheart and wouldn’t hear of saving the money.” She pushed it on her finger and chuckled. “I should probably leave it in my jewelry box. One of these days my knuckles will be so swollen I won’t be able to get it back off.” She shrugged. “Comes with living so long. Anyway, while I wait for the water to boil, maybe you can find something patriotic in that corner cabinet to dress up the tables. I put out white tablecloths earlier, but they’re looking rather plain. I don’t know where all my holiday decorations disappeared to after the move.”
Kate opened the cabinet. There were some mismatched linens, assorted napkin rings, the stubs of a few candles, cookbooks, a collection of seashells in mason jars and a pile of junk mail. Yes. A reorganization was definitely in order. “There’s not much in the way of red, white and blue. How do you feel about a beach theme?”
“Why not?”
Kate grabbed the seashells, mason jars, and some assorted placemats in hues of blues and greens and turned, knocking a manila envelope to the floor. She set down her decorating supplies and bent to pick it up.