“That’s all right. I do. I’ll meet you at the Farmers’ Co-op in Williamston tomorrow at eight,” he said. “By then I’ll have worked up some specs. My partner, Earl, will be happy to help, too. Provide pizza and you’ll have half the county out here.”
“I don’t know half the county.”
“That’s okay. Barbara and I do.”
Seth had brought a small baby bottle, and Emma stirred a little of the dog food into the milk. While she held the kits, he attempted to get them to suck even a tiny bit from the larger nipple. As usual, Rose and Sycamore caught on fast. Peony, not so much.
“She’ll starve if she doesn’t eat!” Emma wailed as another tablespoon full of milk dribbled into Seth’s lap. He dipped his finger in the remaining mush and rubbed it across her gums.
“Yeah, baby, that’s it,” he whispered as Peony licked his finger. “She won’t starve. Not on my watch.”
Emma’s landline rang. She ignored it. After half a dozen rings, he looked up. “You ever going to answer that?”
“Hadn’t planned to.”
“Whoever it is knows when to hang up before it switches to voice mail.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Might be important. Your family?” He dipped his finger once more and held it to Peony’s lips.
“I can guess who it is. Oh, hell.” She grabbed the handset from the shelf behind her and answered. She didn’t realize it was set on speakerphone until she heard Trip’s voice.
“Emma! Thank God! I’ve been trying to reach you for days. I’ve been going nuts. Are you all right? I finally convinced your father to give me your landline number, since you won’t answer your cell phone.”
She glanced at Seth. He was watching her while he seemed to be watching the baby.
“Ow!” He scowled down at Peony. “You imp. You bit me.”
Emma laughed at his wounded expression.
“What’s happening? Who’s there? Is it your father? He said he might drive up there if he didn’t hear from you. Let me speak to him.”
Holding the phone in her right hand, she braced her left against Seth’s shoulder, stood and turned away. A second later she turned back and saw that he was grinning at her. She’d touched him so casually. Her hand on his shoulder felt natural; he was no longer a stranger.
She flipped off the speaker and walked across to the fireplace before she answered again. “Trip, nothing is going on that concerns you in any way. No, my father is not here and he doesn’t plan to come. He would prefer, however, that you stopped calling him at the office.”
“He’s damn near my father-in-law! Who else should I call when you disappear and won’t take my calls? I had to beg to get him to give me this phone number.”
“He is not nor will he ever be your father-in-law. I asked him not to give anyone this number.”
“I am not anyone. I’m your fiancé.”
“No, you aren’t. We broke up, remember? I did not run off. I came up here to look for a new job...”
“You don’t need a new job. You don’t need any job. You need to marry me so I can take care of you. I screwed up...”
“You might say that.”
“You must hate me now, but...”
She sat on the arm of the sofa. Seth was hearing every word she said, but hiding in her bedroom was ridiculous. Better get it over and done with once and for all. “I don’t hate you, Trip. Although I’ll admit I did when I found out about you and Susan. I thought she was my friend.”
“It was a one-night stand. You and I had that fight because you didn’t want to go to the ball after I bought the tickets. Damn things cost a fortune.”
“I told you to find another date.”
“I didn’t want another date. I wanted my fiancée on my arm. You know how tongues would’ve wagged if I’d shown up with someone else. I would’ve spent the night explaining why you weren’t with me. So I had to go stag.”
“Unfortunately, you didn’t feel you had to remain stag.”
“If you’d gone, I wouldn’t have run into Susan once I got there. Hell, she came on to me. I was mad and I was drunk. That’s no excuse, but I swear it’ll never happen again.”
So it was Emma’s fault for not doing what he wanted? “Until the next time you want to schmooze with a room full of VIPs and I am just getting over a hundred and one degrees of fever. Not only did I feel rotten, I was trying to avoid giving everyone there what I had. I didn’t blow you off.”
“I’m not blaming you.”
“Really? Sure sounds like it.”
“Anyway, what’s the big deal? You break off our engagement a week before we’re scheduled to announce it. How’s that going to look?”
He’d gone from contrition to recrimination in three sentences. How on earth had she ever considered marrying him? Had she been blind? No, just stupid. You couldn’t fix stupid, but she was going to try.
“When we decided to get married, you agreed that infidelity was a deal breaker. I guess that’s why you lied to me. It wasn’t a one-night stand, Trip. Susan told me she’d been seeing you for the past month.”
“That didn’t have anything to do with us, you and me!”
How many times had Emma heard that?
“Call it a crazy last fling. Now I know for sure you’re the woman I intend to spend the rest of my life with. Together we can own the world. I miss you. On Saturday I’ll drive up there, take you to lunch.” He hesitated, then whispered, “Make up afterward.”
When she heard his tone she felt her stomach flip, and not in a good way. She knew what he meant, but making up with Trip no longer sounded appealing.
She slid over the arm of the sofa and swung her legs around to sit. “Trip, I don’t hate you. It’s worse than that. Hate implies passion. Passion is one step away from love.”
“Take that step again, baby, I’m begging you. I’ll prove you can trust me.”
“Trip, I’ve realized I don’t like you. I don’t want to have your babies, but I’m sure there are a bunch of women who do. Go marry one of them. Heck, marry Susan. Oh, sorry. I forgot she’s already married.” She laid the handset gently back into its cradle.
Seth had heard all of that—at least her side of it—but when she turned to look at him he was bent over Peony with his back to her. Trying to act innocent. Discreet. Pretty silly for a guy his size, but she appreciated his attempt.
She’d managed to sound calm—well, calmish—with Trip, although she felt anything but. Her heart was beating like Carlos Santana’s rhythm section, sweat slid down her back between her shoulder blades, and when she looked at her fingers, her whole hand was shaking. Her face was probably the color of cherry cough drops.
God, she hated confrontations. She wouldn’t recover for a week. Everybody thought she was so tough, when inside she was made of pure marshmallow. By the time Trip got his story straight, the whole breakup would’ve been his idea. Because she’d failed to live up to his exacting specifications. Because she’d abandoned him when he needed her.
She could hear her father’s voice in her head. “I warned you he wasn’t good enough for you.” Actually, he’d mostly been on Trip’s side.
Her father had started denigrating her boyfriends in high school and kept on until she dreaded introducing him to her dates. Her real worry was that she wasn’t good enough for them. They’d catch on. Better be the dumper rather than the dumpee. So she usually dumped first.
How come one woman was never enough for one man? How come she wasn’t enough for Trip?
The answer came roaring back in her head. Because I couldn’t take the chance of letting him know the real me. The one who’s scared to fail.
Trip was supposed to be different. This time she’d planned to marry for all the sensible reasons. On paper she and Trip were perfect for each other. She didn’t have a clue whether love even e
xisted, and lots of doubts that it would ever exist for her. She’d convinced herself she was in love with Trip. Obviously, she didn’t break his heart. He was probably already setting up a date with her successor.
She went back to the pantry floor beside Seth. “You’re a mess.”
“More on me than in them,” he said. “I’m sticky as a bear in a honey tree. I think you can drop the feedings to every six hours with the food we added to the milk.”
“Really? Does that mean I can sleep?”
“Sleep? I’ve heard that word a time or two. Not sure what it means.” He stood up and slipped Peony back into her nest.
Emma didn’t take his proffered hand to stand up this time. “There’s another word I’ve heard, but not recently. Food? You ever hear of that?” She grinned up at him. “I went to the grocery store between feedings this afternoon. I have lots of bacon, plenty of eggs and enough onions for a Western omelet. Plus I bought some artisan bread. And beer. I don’t drink it, but I thought you might.”
He followed her into what passed for a kitchen. “At this point I’d fight Peony for her dog food. Don’t tell me you can cook. Girl like you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I grew up with hot and cold running servants? Here.” She tossed him a big Vidalia onion. “Peel and chop this. You do the crying for a change.”
An hour later as he finished his fourth piece of buttered toast, he said, “Okay, so you can cook.”
“Very limited menu. And you can eat.”
“Big engines require a lot of fuel. So, who’s this guy Trip you don’t like?”
She took a deep breath. To tell him or not? Oh, why not? It wasn’t a secret. Not at home, in any case. “A rich, handsome corporate lawyer on the fast track to being named partner. Just not mine. He’s got political aspirations, too. Going to put his name in the race for State senator, maybe eventually governor. Let’s drop it, okay? I cook, you clean.”
“What? No dessert?”
“You’re kidding, right? All you have to do is rinse and load the dishwasher. It may be the world’s smallest and oldest, but it works.”
As she was scrubbing the kitchen table, she said, “I wish you’d known my aunt Martha. I used to spend my summers up here with her. I loved this place.”
“From what I hear, I wish I’d known her, too. Barbara said she was a great gal. After she died, how come you didn’t come up here before now?”
“My stepmother and I came up to deal with the estate and the papers and things right after. She left me everything, but there wasn’t much actual income to fix the place up, and I didn’t have any disposable income myself. Plus I was at a place in my life where I didn’t know what I wanted to do with the house. She already rented it out, so that’s what I did. I hired an agent who handles it all. When the last tenants—the Mulligans—left six months ago, I missed the little bit of income they brought me, but I figured sooner or later I’d get a new tenant. I was looking for somebody who might want to barter upkeep for rent. Karma, I guess. It hit me when I got fired and unengaged practically the same day that I needed a sanctuary. And thanks to Aunt Martha’s kindness, I had one.” She glanced around the shabby room. “This, however, needs help.”
“Not to mention the skunks.”
She leaned back against the table. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but aren’t you going to get in trouble over my skunks?”
“You shouldn’t think of them as your skunks, or you’ll hate letting them go even more. Yes, I can get into trouble, but if we return them to the wild before somebody reports them, I can ask forgiveness.”
“As opposed to permission?”
He rinsed out the sink and hung the dish towel on its hook. And yawned. “Sorry.”
“Go home. Go to bed.”
She followed him to the front door.
“Don’t forget. We meet in the morning at the Farmers’ Co-op.”
She nodded.
He turned, took one step, swung back and reached for her.
* * *
JUST A “meet the new neighbor kiss.”
Maybe it started that way, but it got out of hand—fast. She wasn’t used to being lifted off her feet. When he wrapped his arms around her, she felt as if she were being hugged by that bear in the honey tree.
He tasted of the fig preserves they’d used on their toast, and when their tongues met and teased, her head seemed to lift free of her body.
He set her down, let her go, wheeled around and almost ran across the street. Thank God there was no traffic, because he hadn’t checked either direction, just barreled on inside his house.
She leaned against the wall beside her front door and tried to catch her breath. One kiss, and she could feel her nipples harden.
She hoped he didn’t regret it. She didn’t. Or did she?
Talk about your rebound! The last thing she wanted in her life right now was another man—any man. Certainly not this big, powerful, difficult man who would not be manipulated. Even if she was any good at manipulation. Which she wasn’t.
She’d sworn off the entire sex for the foreseeable future. Maybe forever.
So far, she’d done all right convincing him to help keep her skunk babies safe, but that was only because he had a soft spot for small animals. He could always revert to being Mr. Regulation and take them away from her.
She needed to keep him on her side, but there were limits as to how far she’d go to manage that. On a lifestyle compatibility scale of one to ten—ten being the most compatible—the two of them were about minus a thousand. If her father thought Trip was barely good enough for her, he’d flip out the first time he laid eyes on Seth.
She didn’t truly believe Seth was expecting some sort of sexual quid pro quo for helping with the skunks. If he was, he’d made a big mistake.
But what did she know? If some other halfway stranger had swept her into his arms and kissed the stew out of her like Seth had, she’d have sent him flying with a big red handprint on his cheek.
And possibly found herself facing a stalker who wore a uniform and carried a gun.
She sank onto the front step of her porch and leaned against one of the columns that held it up. The guy had majorly overstepped his boundaries.
Even if it was the best kiss she’d ever experienced in her entire life. Not that she’d kissed that many males, but she hadn’t been a nun either.
It was just a kiss! she reminded herself.
Emma looked across the street. She could see him pacing back and forth, silhouetted against the front window of his house. She went back into her hall, turned off the lights and shut the front door with its big oval pier glass. He wasn’t going to watch her pace up and down or keep track of her by the lights that went on throughout the house, from living room to bedroom. She’d undress in the dark.
Tomorrow when she met him at the co-op—assuming he showed up—she would be completely casual, never mention the kiss and dial them back to square one. Acquaintances. Period. She needed him for the skunks. She definitely did not need him as a male person who raised her blood pressure.
* * *
HE HAD LOST his mind.
In two days this woman had put him in the position of breaking rules he was pledged to adhere to. Not just adhere to, but enforce.
And grabbing her up and kissing her like that? She’d be well within her rights to call the police and have him arrested for assault by an authority figure.
Not that she’d left him much authority. She hadn’t asked him to help her build an outdoor run for the skunks. He’d come up with the idea himself. Now he was committed to a fairly complicated project, one she’d already told him she either couldn’t or wouldn’t participate in.
She’d intimated that she’d sworn off the entire sex for the foreseeable future. As if he had all the time in the world outside his job to pl
ay nursemaid to skunks. Why hadn’t she adopted a couple of baby squirrels? Or even a raccoon? He could justify helping her in that case.
Tomorrow morning, he had to meet her as though they’d never shared that blockbuster of a kiss. Casual. Professional. Acquaintances. Neighbors. Nothing more.
He could handle that.
In his dreams.
Then again, what was the use? How long before her fancy, rich lawyer fiancé showed up in a brand-new Mercedes, gave her a big diamond and swept her off to marry him? From her phone conversation with The Jerk—he thought of him in capital letters—the guy was having an affair with a married woman while he was engaged to Emma. Talk about nuts! But with his fortune and social position... No woman would choose Seth Logan over him. If, as Emma said, he was aiming to go into politics at some point, she’d make a smashing senator’s wife. Or governor’s, for that matter.
Seth had enough experience with domestic disputes to know that in almost every case infidelity was not a deal breaker. All too often, women kept going back to the guy who gave them a broken jaw or a broken heart. His mother had gone back to his alcoholic father again and again, offered him support and forgiveness and her belief that he would stay sober. She’d written him off and divorced him only after Sarah was drowned. She couldn’t go on living with Everett, her husband, knowing it was his fault Sarah had died.
She barely took her eyes off Seth in the months following Sarah’s drowning. She knew how deeply he blamed his father. Watching him was as much for Seth’s benefit as her own. She’d continued to look at Seth even when he couldn’t bear to look at himself. She was afraid of what he’d do if his father showed up drunk and maudlin, making excuses, casting blame...
She’d been right to worry. At fourteen Seth was taller, broader and stronger than his father. Besides, his liver was healthy. He doubted dear old Dad’s was. He’d had to avoid the bastard so he wouldn’t put him in the hospital. Or the morgue.
The only thing that saved Everett Logan from his son’s wrath was that Seth hated himself more than he did his father. If he hadn’t been able to hide out in the woods for days at a time, he might well have followed Sarah into the lake.
Tennessee Rescue Page 5