Sweet but Sexy Boxed Set

by Maddie James

  Rachel gave a short laugh. “You must admit the woman has guts.”

  “I don’t know when she developed them.” Kelly shook her head. “She certainly didn’t have any when she was married to my father.”

  “In my experience, knowing you’re truly loved is a liberating thing,” Rachel said. “You can be yourself easier if you have that assurance.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” No, she wouldn’t. Kelly fought a deep resentment. Anger at Rob for not being the man she needed back then made her heart pound. Anger at the impotent fear that gripped her and caused her to date men like Thomas Dunlap made her sick.

  “Your mother must feel very secure to make this change.”

  “I guess.” Kelly stood at the threshold to the attic and told Rachel all the gory details leaving out the part about Rob and the fact that C.B. was Howie’s granddaughter.

  “I assume she’s moving in with Howie once they’re married. What’s going to happen to her house?” Rachel asked.

  “I don’t know.” Kelly switched on the overhead light bulb and walked across the hardwood floor skirting the old furniture draped with sheets and dusty boxes of junk stacked on top of other boxes of junk. A dirty window allowed a glimmer of weak summer sunlight into the area under the steeped roof.

  “Wouldn’t it be fun if you turned her house into a bed and breakfast? Carl and I have enjoyed owning ours, and you were searching for something different to do with your life.”

  “It’s not that simple.” No, and it wasn’t safe. Kelly couldn’t chance staying in Lanham any longer than necessary.

  “Well, think about it. Anything is doable if you want it badly enough.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know what I want.”

  “You’ll find out.”

  Rachel’s words were reassuring, but Kelly wasn’t willing to be reassured. There was too much at stake. They talked a few minutes longer then ended the call.

  Kelly stuffed her iPhone into the pocket of her denim shorts and took stock of the attic. With no air conditioning up here, it wasn’t likely she’d spend much time sorting and packing. Best to drag the boxes downstairs somehow. But where to start?

  Wandering over to the window, she gazed down at the yard below. How many times as a child had she run through the yard with other kids from the neighborhood? They’d played hide and seek and once during time off from school, they’d built snow forts and held mock wars—boys against girls—throwing snow balls and freezing their butts off.

  She had friends at one time. That was before she became an outcast. Before her father made her wear ugly dresses and pin up her hair. Kelly squeezed her eyes shut remembering that time. Her father had gone weird, yelling at her and accusing her of things she had never done. Was she ten at the time? Or eleven? Or maybe she was twelve and had just gotten her period.

  Sometimes she used to escape up here to the attic. Not in the summer, but in the fall and spring. Sometimes in the winter if it wasn’t too cold. She’d read up here, sitting on the old, wooden footlocker under the window.

  Kelly opened her eyes and glanced down. The footlocker, the one her grandfather had used during World War II, was in the same spot and still locked with the padlock she had put on it in high school. The attic looked the same. So did her room. She was almost forty years old and today she felt like a kid again—a scared, unhappy kid. The pain and bewilderment of that lost time gnawed at her in a tragically familiar way.

  Why was it when everyone around her was changing, she felt stuck? As if she was marking time, neither coming nor going, just being.

  Swallowing hard, Kelly fought back tears of self-pity, swaying a little as she stood in the middle of the attic floor. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t cry. She didn’t feel sorry for herself. She got on with things. Did what had to be done. Made the best of bad situations.

  Just like she had to do now.

  “Kelly!”

  Her mother’s sharp voice rang out, drifting up the stairs all the way to the attic. Kelly couldn’t escape it.

  “Upstairs, Mother,” she called down.

  “Good. I’ve brought Rob home with me. He’s offered to help us clean out the attic.”

  Chapter Six

  Kelly wanted to sink through the hardwood floor, but she refused to let her insecurity get the best of her. Instead she drew a deep breath and waited. Not for long. Rob bounded up the stairs. His presence in the hot, dark attic, wearing only shorts and a T-shirt, was like that of a celestial angel—bright and vibrant, as glowing as the smile on his face.

  He stopped and stared at her. She stood a little straighter, a knot tightening in her stomach. Their gazes connected and sizzled.

  Kelly heard her mother’s laboring steps coming up the stairs. She swallowed hard. “What?”

  “You’re beautiful,” he said as if he really meant it.

  Kelly glanced down at her white T-shirt, denim shorts, and white sandals. Who was he kidding? She snapped her head up and glared at him, not trusting herself to speak.

  “There you are.” Her mother had words enough for both of them. Having come from church, she was dressed in a conservative blue suit and a soft white blouse, looking better than Kelly remembered. “What a mess this place is.” Grace shouldered past them, shaking her head, as she walked to the middle of the room. The lone light bulb threw her face into sharp contrast. “It’s hot. We certainly can’t work up here.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Rob flexed his bare arm, showing off his biceps. “You need male help.”

  “Show off.” Kelly turned with a huff, unable to look at the exposed reminder of his male body. “You can take this footlocker downstairs, but leave it in my room. I’ll sort through it there.”

  “Kelly, don’t be rude,” her mother scolded.

  “That’s okay, Grace.” Rob crossed to the window and lifted the footlocker with ease. “Kel will get used to having me around. She has to since she’s going to be my stepsister.”

  What? Kelly turned quickly to see Rob’s hunky backside as he left the attic lugging the footlocker. The nightmare was growing more horrible by the moment.

  “Really, Kelly, why are you acting this way toward Rob? He’s only here to help.”

  Kelly closed her eyes a moment in an attempt to control her exasperation. No wonder she never wanted to come home. Here she remained a child.

  “There are a lot of things I shouldn’t do, Mother, but that has never stopped me.”

  “I just want us to get along.” Her mother shook her head, her eyes hopeful. “I just want us to be a family.”

  “This is your family. Your idea. I’ll try to be polite, but don’t count on me liking it.” Kelly snatched up a tattered box and marched down the stairs, sidestepping Rob who was coming up. Their shoulders brushed, and Kelly jerked away quickening her pace.

  “Be careful,” he called after her.

  “I’m not a child!” Good grief. Now Rob treated her like one.

  At that moment her foot slipped on the next to the bottom step, and still clutching the box, she bumped on her butt down the remaining two steps.

  “Damn,” she cried out in anger. “Damn! Damn! Damn!”

  “Good catch.”

  Kelly glanced over her shoulder and lifted her gaze up the flight of stairs to see a pair of hairy legs and tan cargo shorts with a very male bulge that left nothing to the imagination. Her view wouldn’t be so bad during normal circumstances, but circumstances were not normal. This was Rob and he was laughing at her.

  Kelly didn’t know how cute she looked sprawled out on the floor giving him the evil eye. If he were a gentleman, he’d rush downstairs and lift the box from her arms, but he was enjoying himself too much. Rob loved her spunk—maybe it went with the red hair—and he loved the way she’d overcome the straightjacket her father had put her in as a kid.

  It took strength for her to raise a child by herself. He admired her for that. Kelly’s self-sacrifice put her on a pedestal in his eyes.

/>   For the first time since his divorce he was ready to try again. He’d been licking his wounds too long. There wasn’t anyone in Lanham worth dating. The hot women were all married, and the single women didn’t interest him. Not like Kelly with her flashing green eyes and quick temper.

  “Stay put. I’ll help you up.” Rob trotted down the steps and picked up the box. It wasn’t heavy. Just awkward.

  “Thanks.”

  He pulled her to her feet with his free hand, his fingers locking with hers, not letting them go. Face-to-face, her expression stricken, Rob held her against his chest for a heart-beating moment.

  “Think you’ll live?” He winked at her.

  “This time.”

  Kelly wrenched her hand from his and turned away flouncing back up the attic stairs. Rob watched her go, appreciating the view. Miss Baron could play hard to get all she wanted, but in various circles, he was known for his persistence. She didn’t stand a chance.

  Unable to hide a smug grin, he delivered the box to an open space on the living room floor and went back for more. He passed Kelly several times on the stairs as they carried boxes up and down. She tried to ignore him, but he could tell she was working too hard at it. He was getting under her skin which suited him fine.

  Who called a truce? Kelly certainly hadn’t, but for some odd and very strange reason, she and Rob worked together during the afternoon. He kept a deliberate, taunting distance, and Kelly was only too glad to let him, very proud of the control she exhibited. In fact, she seemed to have the whole situation in hand. Rob Scott was not going to get to her. That part of her life was over and done with.

  By four o’clock the living room was organized chaos. Boxes of donation items were collected in the middle of the room. Mismatched chairs and an old oak table were shoved against a wall ready for the second hand store. The trash cans behind the house were overflowing and boxes of trash were stacked beside them.

  “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Her mother asked in a voice reflecting her disappointment.

  “No.” Kelly shook her head. “I’m not the sentimental type.”

  “If you can keep this stuff here until the children’s club yard sale in September, we can use the items,” Rob said.

  Was he really serious about his volunteer work for the children’s club? Kelly bit her lower lip and assessed Rob with a questioning glance. “You can sell this junk?”

  “You’d be surprised how much will sell. What’s the old saying? One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”

  Rachel’s earlier question came to mind, and Kelly turned to her mother. “What are you going to do with the house?”

  “Sell it too, I guess. Howie and I have talked about it since you don’t seem to want it.”

  The hurt in her mother’s voice was palpable. “What makes you say that?” Kelly asked.

  “Well, do you?”

  Kelly’s eyes narrowed and she looked away unable to meet her mother’s challenge. “I don’t know what I want.” She turned and left the living room. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

  Outside on the porch, she sat down on the swing, tucking her feet up under her cross-legged. She had come to Lanham thinking her mother needed her. Since C.B.’s marriage no one needed her, and for a woman who had fashioned her whole life giving to her child and later her aunt, it was a traumatic loss. The whole idea of creating a new life and “finding herself” was no longer appealing. In two more days she’d be forty. Why didn’t she know herself already, for heaven’s sakes? Shouldn’t she have her life together by now?

  Rob came out of the house carrying two tall glasses of pink lemonade. He stopped in front of her, looking down, and extended a glass. “Your mother made this.”

  Kelly uncrossed her legs and put her bare feet on the floor. Sometime during the afternoon she’d kicked off her sandals. “Thanks.” She took the glass from him. It was wet from condensation.

  Rob sat down beside her, the swing moving with his weight. It was much smaller than the bench beside the fish pond, and their shoulders touched with an intimacy Kelly didn’t want. She drank the sweetly tart lemonade, biding time and controlling her sharp intake of breath and rising pulse.

  “Why did you ask your mother about the house?” Rob wanted to know. “Are you thinking about staying in Lanham?”

  “No.” Kelly studied the glass. She moved it and watched the ice cubes twirl. “My friend and her husband have a bed and breakfast. She mentioned the idea to me today about turning this old house into one.”

  “This town could certainly use more guest space. I might be interested in investing in it, if you decide to stay.” Rob took a long sip. Then he held the glass loosely in his hands and resting his elbows on his knees, he stared at the floor. “It’s not a bad place, our hometown. I’ve grown to love it again.”

  Kelly stiffened, memories closing in on her. “Well, I don’t think I fit in here.”

  “My wife said that…my ex-wife,” he amended. “Jess is nothing like you, but you were born here, Kel. I can understand why you left, because of your daughter, but I think you’d fit in here just fine, if you came back.”

  “Well, it’s not as if my mother has need of my help.” There was an edge of hurt in her voice. Why could that be? She was the one who had spent twenty years running from her roots.

  “I don’t know.” Rob shook his blond head and glanced at her. “I’ve come to appreciate family more since I’ve been home. My dad is all I have now. I envy his relationship with your mom. They’re starting over and that’s good for them.”

  “You sound awfully sentimental.”

  “Rose-colored glasses have a habit of obscuring my vision.” He put a hand on her arm, his touch fueling a flame between them. “I see kids at the club from broken homes or dysfunctional families. I wish I could do something for them.”

  Kelly fought her natural flight mechanism. He must have noticed her uncomfortable bearing and the slight lift of her chin. He removed his hand slowly.

  It was time to get away. Rob was too near and too big and too darn alive with his emotions exposed. She didn’t want to feel the dangerous pull toward him. What happened to her earlier sense of self-control? She slurped down another swallow of lemonade, almost choking when a fire cracker popped somewhere in the neighborhood. The whooshing sound of a bottle rocket followed.

  “The kids are starting early,” Rob said. He stood up and walked to the edge of the porch, looking down the street toward the square.

  It was July Fourth. Independence Day. Kelly didn’t feel independent. She felt tied to the past and to her insecurities. She stared at Rob’s tall, strapping body, hardly believing he was standing there on her mother’s porch. That she was there with him. After all these years.

  He turned. “Have dinner with me tomorrow. Seven o’clock.”

  Kelly opened her mouth to say no, but the word stuck in her throat.

  Rob rushed on. “I have to work tomorrow, of course, but I want to take you to the Tex-Mex restaurant on the square. I like to patronize local establishments. It’s good for Lanham’s economy.”

  Kelly shut her mouth. Their gazes connected and held a brief moment. She was the first to look away.

  “I’d like to get to know you better, Kel. Away from our parents. What do you say?”

  She could do this. She was strong enough to keep her emotions in check. After all, she had done it for over twenty years.

  “I guess so,” she said as she lifted her gaze and caught speculation in Rob’s eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  Monday morning

  Practicality set in on Monday, that and a rising sense of panic skating through her midsection. Kelly left Lanham and drove to Louisville, wishing she could keep on going. She excused her escape on the fact that she needed suitable clothing for her mother’s wedding and for her date tonight.

  Had she actually agreed to have dinner with Rob?

  “Sure, Mom, you can stop by,” C.B. said when Kelly ca
lled to tell her she was coming. “I’ll be at work, but you have a key.”

  “There’s good news about Aunt Bess’s house,” Kelly reported to her daughter. “The agent told me a young couple is coming back today for a second look.”

  “Great news! Fingers crossed.”

  “Yes, fingers crossed.” Maybe she’d soon be free of one more obligation.

  Fighting a sense of disconnect, Kelly drove across the I-65 bridge over the Ohio River into Kentucky. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel as she made the sharp turn off the bridge and headed toward I-64 through Spaghetti Junction. Driving into Louisville was not like coming home. How could it be? She had no home to come home to.

  Before leaving for Lanham, Kelly had put her furniture and household items into storage and turned over the keys to her apartment. She had left extra clothing at her daughter’s house—the daughter who was now married and no longer needed her.

  Get a grip. She clutched the steering wheel. This whole creating a new life thing was being forced upon her whether she wanted it or not. She’d been through tough times before and survived. Surely she could manage this major redirection of her life.

  I’m not going to wimp out.

  C.B. and Daniel’s home was a cute, red brick ranch in an established subdivision. C.B. had planted orange zinnias in large clay pots and placed them on her front stoop, providing a cheerful splash of color to welcome Kelly.

  Tackling her bittersweet emotions, Kelly let herself into the house. The front door opened directly into the living room. Touches of C.B.’s personality were on display in the décor: a stuffed, chocolate-color sofa with plump beige throw pillows and a cozy easy chair, the oak drop-leaf table from Aunt Bess’s house draped in a red and beige paisley runner and topped with framed photographs of horse shows, and a woven area rug that had the look of an Aubusson antique covering the hardwood floor.

  The house was as neat as a pin. What happened to that messy child who refused to clean up her bedroom? Kelly stood in the middle of the living room floor, her heart aching for that little girl. Bright sunshine sparkled through a picture window highlighting the swirls of red, green and beige in the area rug. A faint scent of cinnamon clung to the air, probably from the candles on the coffee table.