My Funny Valentine

by Rhonda Nelson

  “Me, too,” Fayrene moaned with equally feigned horror. “Quick-Shot Ethan got me…again.” She wilted in her chair.

  Hattie and Lila also collapsed into chairs clutching their supposedly mortal wounds. Their carefree antics made Gray smile to himself.

  “Let’s face it, girls,” Lila groaned. “We’re…just…no…match…for…the Quick—Shot…Kid.”

  “Yippee! Ka-pow! Ka-pow! Ka-pow!” Ethan cried happily. He took another couple of wild turns around the room, then skidded to an abrupt halt as he caught sight of Gray. Eyes wide, the young boy stared up at him with undisguised curiosity.

  “Are you the hunk?” Ethan asked breathlessly. “My momma and everyone’s been talkin’ bout the hunk. I’m only four, so don’t know what a hunk is. Are you one?”

  “Ethan,” Hattie gasped, as the others smothered chuckles. “Such talk.” She jerked her head at Fayrene and whispered from the side of her mouth. “See what I told you. Little pitchers have big ears.”

  “What’s all the commotion about?” Bella asked from the doorway.

  Ethan turned to face his mother. “I was just asking this man if he was the hunk y’all been talkin’ about. He ain’t told me yet.”

  Gray had the satisfaction of watching Bella blush to the roots of her silvery blond hair. Her blue eyes widened and she gulped visibly. She darted a nervous glace at Gray, then looked back at her son.

  “Oh.” That seemed to be all she could manage.

  Gray decided to save her. “Have you had a chance to check those references yet?”

  “Um…yeah.” She swallowed. “Come on back and you can sign the lease.”

  Secretly pleased to have been dubbed a “hunk” by the sexy hairdresser, Gray followed Bella to the kitchen. A few tendrils of her moonbeam hair had come loose and curled about her decidedly pink ears and delicate nape. Unbidden, the word angel drifted through his mind again.

  Bella paused at the kitchen table and motioned for Gray to take a set. She grabbed an ink pen from a jar on the counter, then joined him. A light floral scent wafted his way as she settled into her chair. Glancing at the papers, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve highlighted everywhere that I need a signature.”

  Gray pulled the papers to him, perused the document, then scrawled his name in the appropriate places. Smiling, he slid them across the table.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  Bella bit her lip. “Um, yes. The deposit and first month’s rent.”

  Oh, yeah, Gray thought, feeling ridiculous. “Of course.” He pulled his checkbook from his jeans and made out a check, then handed it to her.

  She glanced at it, then frowned. “But this is too much—“

  “I wanted to go ahead and take care of the first three months. It’s not a problem, is it?”

  She shook her head. “No, no. Not at all.” She smiled. “In fact, it’s kind of nice. I’ve got several renovating projects I’d like to work on and this will give me a good start. Thanks.”

  “Renovating?”

  “Yeah, just little things. Don’t worry. None of it is in your part of the house and shouldn’t affect you.” She paused consideringly. “Except for the wiring.”

  So he’d been right. The how-to books were obviously hers. Gray had put himself through college working for a construction firm. Though he’d never wanted to pursue it as a career, he’d felt a great deal of satisfaction from seeing a project come together, learning from watching the craftsmen at their trade.

  Perhaps he’d be able to give Bella a hand with some of the more technical projects she had planned while he was in Magnolia Grove. After all, he’d be there at least three months, if not more. It just depended on how well his research went and how fast the story came together.

  Gray paused as her last statement fully emerged in his subconscious. Had she said wiring?

  Gray cleared his throat. “Are you an electrician, too?”

  Bella laughed. “Oh, heaven’s no. But I’m not a plumber either and I completely replumbed this entire house. Appearing utterly pleased with herself, she gave him a little smile. “Those books I ordered from Bob Vila were wonderful. Heck, anyone who can read can follow those instructions. I haven’t found anything I can’t tackle.” Another fond smile touched her lips and her eyes turned dark with some unspoken emotion. “And believe it or not, I actually enjoy doing the renovations myself. My great-grandparents built this house. It gives me great pleasure to contribute to the restoration.”

  A tingle of alarm prickled Gray’s spine. He didn’t know how to tell her this, but replumbing a house and rewiring one were two completely different things, not at all alike in terms of danger and difficulty.

  For instance, fixing a stopped-up drain couldn’t zap her with enough volts to give her a permanent perm.

  Oh, boy.

  “What other projects were you planning on doing? he asked.

  Lips pursed thoughtfully, Bella tapped a slim finger against her chin. “Well, I’m going to fix the crown molding in the living room. It needs some work. I’m going to replace a few windowpanes—“

  So far, so good, Gray thought as Bella continued to tick off the items from her mental list. Nothing that could befall her bodily harm.

  “Fix a board on the front porch. Oh, and replace a few shingles on the roof.”

  Gray felt his eyes widen. “The roof?”

  “Yeah, there’s a leak in the attic that needs to be taken care of. When are you planning on moving in?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  “Immediately. Now.”

  “Okay,” Bella told him. “Here’s your key. Just pull around to the back and start making yourself at home. I’ve got to get back to work." She gave him a dry look. “Fayrene bullied Hattie out of her set, so I’m behind. You’ve caused quite a stir.”

  Gray nodded gravely. “Us hunks are like that,” he teased. “We can’t help it.”

  She chuckled and color rose to her cheeks again. “D-do you need anything else?

  To Gray’s astonishment, the word “you” almost rolled off his tongue.

  “Friday,” he said instead, baffled.

  “Excuse me?"

  “I’d like to do my laundry on Friday.”

  She grinned. “What? No date?” Then she looked as though she’d like nothing better than to bite her tongue off for that remark.

  “No,” Gray replied, shaking his head. “I’m here for work.”

  “Oh, right,” Bella said with a grim smile, backing toward the door. “Well, welcome to Magnolia Grove, Mr. Cameron,” she said sincerely. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

  Gray watched as Bella Valentine turned and left the room. Her long braid swung over her shoulder as she whirled around. Unreasonably, a zing of arousal hummed through him.

  It occurred to Gray that if he wasn’t too careful, he might find himself enjoying his stay in Magnolia Grove a little too much—and it wouldn’t have anything to do with southern hospitality.

  Chapter Four

  “He’s taking up another suitcase,” Lila stage-whispered from her post nearest the kitchen door.

  “Why, that’s the third one,” Fayrene replied. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you suppose he’s got in there?”

  “Hmmm,” Maggie said. “Let me take a shot in the dark here…clothes!” She gave them all an exasperated look and idly thumbed through another magazine. Though she acted completely unconcerned, Bella knew that Maggie was every bit as curious about Gray Cameron as the other women.

  Bella chuckled softly. “Okay, ladies. That’s enough spying. Come away from the door and let Mr. Cameron move in without an audience.”

  A small smile teasing her lips, Bella smothered a long-suffering sigh and continued to fill out her deposit slip. Though she had to admit she was a little curious herself about her new tenant, it had been a tiresome day and she was ready to finish her business, close up shop, and retire with her son to the relative safety of her home. She’d prom
ised Ethan a trip to the creek, then cookies and a movie at home. She’d get to do those things—provided she could run her regulars out of the salon.

  Lila huffed like a recalcitrant child and reluctantly shuffled back into the salon. “Saw him haul a computer and a bunch of electronic junk up there as well. Something’s fishy, I can smell it.”

  “Then you need to check your nasal spray, Lila,” Maggie told her. “I own suitcases and a computer and I’m not on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.” She humphed under her breath. “Honestly, let the man move his things in peace.”

  “How do you know you’re not on the FBI’s Most Wanted list? “ Hattie wanted to know, looking perplexed.

  Maggie didn’t deign to reply, but rolled her eyes.

  “Well, that’s neither here nor there,” Lila told them. “I just want to know what the man is doing here. Did he tell you why he moved to Magnolia Grove, Bella?”

  Frankly, Bella had wondered about that herself. According to his application, Gray Cameron was a freelance author. He’d listed an editor from a popular publishing house in New York as a reference, and an agent in the same city with an equally prestigious firm.

  Bella frowned thoughtfully. It was all very intriguing. So what did he write? She was an avid reader, and wondered if she had read any of his work. It he wrote under a pseudonym, he hadn’t told her. She’d been tempted to ask when he’d returned with the deposit and rent, but she hadn’t. After all, if he’d wanted her to know all about his books, he would have told her that, too. Though they weren’t known to her, he obviously had his reasons. Given that, Bella would respect his privacy and give her regulars the vague answer he’d given her.

  “He said that he’s here for work.”

  All four of the women frowned.

  “Work?” Lila said, as though she couldn’t fathom the concept. And considering the fact that she’d never been gainfully employed in her life, she probably couldn’t. When Lila had come of age, she’d simply traded her rich daddy for a rich husband.

  “Work on what?” Maggie asked, finally jumping into the fray.

  “Who cares!” Fayrene exclaimed. She shimmied her breasts up on her slightly endowed chest. “I’m just glad he’s here.” She quivered theatrically. “Add a little excitement to this ho-hum town.”

  Bella shrugged noncommittally. “Okay, ladies, it’s time to close up.” She smiled. “It’s Wednesday and I’ve got a date with my darlin’.”

  Gray Cameron seemingly forgotten, Hattie, Lila, Maggie and Fayrene all smiled in unison. “Oh, that’s right,” Fayrene said.

  Momentarily contrite, Lila gave Bella a guilty look. “Sorry, Bella. We just forgot. We’ll skedaddle.”

  “No harm done,” Bella reassured her. It was common knowledge that Wednesday was her day with Ethan.

  Maggie jumped to her feet. “Okay, girls. Let’s get outta here so Bella and he little boy can be on their way.”

  The ladies gathered their purses and trouped obligingly to the door. Bella followed.

  “Same time next week?” She asked.

  Fayrene gave her a shrewd look. “Or before. You know, I’ve been thinking that I need to get my set done a couple times a week. It’s awfully mussed by the time I’m de for another appointment.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be if you’d stay off your back,” Maggie gibed. “Make those old bran-deficient codgers keep their hands to themselves.”

  “Maggie!” Hattie gasped. “Such talk!”

  “One of these days I’m going to get enough of your insults, Maggie Kramer, and stomp’ ye ‘til there ain’t nothin’ left but a greasy spot on the pavement,” Fayrene threatened. It wasn’t the first time and definitely wouldn’t be the last.

  “Oooh, I’m shakin,” Maggie taunted, shuddering dramatically. “I’m more worried about goin’ blind from the glare of that new lipstick. You need to give that color back to the hooker that gave it to you.”

  “Bye,” Bella called, laughing as she closed the door on their good-natured bickering. Breathing a deep sigh of satisfaction, she set the locks, flipped the sign to “Closed,” then leaned her head against the door and enjoyed a blessed moment of silence. She loved this time. When contentment at finishing another good day’s work was pushed aside by the anticipation of spending the rest of the day with her son.

  Bella smiled, methodically going through the rest of the motions of closing up shop. Sweeping up, straightening magazines, tossing another load of towels into the washer.

  That routine action triggered another, not-so-routine thought—one that brought an amazingly vivid image of her newest tenant to the forefront of her mind.

  So, Gray Cameron wanted to spend his Friday nights doing laundry? Bella didn’t know why she found that interesting, but she did. What sort of man chose a Friday—a prime date night for singles everywhere—to wash his clothes? A nerd was the first uncharitable answer that popped into her mind.

  But the estimation hardly fit Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous. Another superbly vivid image of Gray Cameron sauntered unhurriedly through Bella’s mind. She pulled in a deep breath as an odd warmth swirled below her navel.

  Humph. Hardly.

  Though there were many words Bella could use to describe him, “nerd” definitely wasn’t one.

  Bella paused. Objectively speaking, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a more dangerously good-looking man. And it wasn’t just in looks. No, it was the way he moved, with an almost lazy, insolent grace. And that stare. Definitely unnerving.

  Which was all the more reason she shouldn’t be looking at him, Bella decided, much less thinking about looking at him. After all, handsome or no, it didn’t matter to her. Gray Cameron was just another tenant, only one of the many who’d occupied her little upstairs apartment from time to time.

  A foreboding, chill, not altogether unpleasant, danced up her spine. And, for reasons which escaped her, that thought, however heartfelt, rant pathetically false.

  Gray Cameron definitely wasn’t just any ordinary tenant.

  Gray took a long pull from a glass of water and inwardly sighed with satisfaction as the cool wetness slid down his parched throat. Damn, but it was hot. And not just any kind of hot. Muggy Mississippi hot, even in what was supposed to be fall. He likened the simple act of breathing to sucking air through wet cheesecloth. How on earth did these people stand it? he wondered, tugging his equally wet T-shirt away from his chest. He didn’t think he’d ever been so thankful for central air conditioning.

  He set the unit to sixty degrees—a reasonable temperature, he thought, given the furnace his apartment had become since this morning—then descended the stairs. One last trip to his car and he’d be finished. There were other items that he’d need from his apartment in San Francisco, but those would be shipped later in the week. When he’d made the drive to Magnolia Grove, he’d only packed the essentials.

  Despite the Indian-summer-like heat and the avid curiosity his arrival had inspired among the natives, Gray could honestly say that he was pleased with his accommodations for this particular research mission.

  Perhaps because he found the elements of this latest story intriguing. Case McCain—the tough hero in all of Gray’s mystery/thriller novels—was a jaded ex-cop turned private investigator who always got his man. Or woman, whichever it turned out to be. Gray’s books were unique in that every story was a shadow of an actual crime, true or supposed.

  In this instance, Case is investigating a forty-year-old murder in a small, politically motivated southern town. Thus, Gray’s voyage into the heart of Mississippi. It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps he’d be able to glean a little local information from the elderly women he’d met in Bella’s salon.

  Still, in order to fully get into his creative mindset, Gray had to immerse himself completely in the setting. An odd approach, for sure, and not one that others in his profession shared. Nevertheless, he knew an author who dressed up as his characters while he wrote in order to reach the same goal. Frankly, Gray couldn
’t imagine getting up and changing clothes every time he changed point of view…but to each his own. Immersion was a method that worked for him and he’d been a believer in the if-it-ain’t-broke-don’t-fix-it motto for too long to change now.

  Hit with a sudden compulsion to work, Gray descended the last few steps with renewed purpose.

  Then drew up short.

  The vision which greeted him made a whole new heat roar through his veins, consequently parching his newly moisturized mouth.

  His landlady was nude. Not actually nude, of course—she was wearing a bikini top and cut-off shorts-but effectively nude to any human being possessing a “Y” chromosome. The few well-placed scraps of fabric on her delightfully curvy body were hardly what Gray would classify as adequate covering. His gaze feasted on her. Oh, yeah, he thought, absently clearing his dry throat. To his eyes, she might as well have been completely naked.

  In the process of slathering what Gray presumed to be sunblock on her son, Bella turned at his strangled “a-hem.”

  She smiled. “Hi. How are things going?”

  Not one whit of self-consciousness showed on her glowing face. Gray decided to think about that some other time.

  “Great,” he told her. He hooked a finger toward the door. “One more load and I’ll be completely set up.”

  “Quit wiggling, Ethan,” Bella teased, then looked at Gray once more. “Great. If you need to use the phone to call the telephone company, go right ahead. Ethan and I are heading down to Harrell Creek, so it’ll be a little while before we get back.”

  “Yeah,” Ethan instantly chimed in. “Do you know how to swim? My mama’s teachin’ me how and we’re gonna have a race and whoever wins gets to win the tickle fight.”

  To his astonishment, Gray’s mental images leapt from fantasy to another. Bella…wet…flushed…laughing. His gaze slowly moved to the object of his overactive imagination. “That sounds like fun,” he said. And meant it.

  Just as he had suspected she would, Bella blushed all over.

  “Yeah, it’s lots of fun,” Ethan exclaimed. “And we’re going to catch frogs, and salamanders, and tadpoles and everything!” He paused to take a breath, then cocked his head to one side and stared at Gray quizzically. “Mrs. Fayrene was right. You do look like a hot hunk. You’re all red and sweaty.” The child’s face lit with sudden inspiration. “You wanna come with us and get in the creek? It’s really cool and it’s—“