Return to Rose Cottage

by Sherryl Woods

  Now, unfortunately, it seemed that he was going to have plenty of time to come up with all the pretty words she needed to hear. He was going to be underfoot for who knew how long, and there wasn’t a blessed thing she could do about it except stay as far away from Rose Cottage during the day as she possibly could.

  As he’d probably guessed, firing him was not an option. It would only stir up more questions than she was prepared to answer. And perverse as he was, he’d probably see it as an admission that she was still attracted to him.

  Which she was, dammit!

  Her plan of action, such as it was, decided, Jo went to bed and tried to forget about how good Pete had looked in his snug, faded jeans and dark green sweater. Seven years had only made him more handsome. His face looked stronger and sexier with a day’s stubble of beard shadowing his cheeks, and there was even more mischief in his dark eyes. Hell, the man radiated sex from every pore, which was something she had no business thinking about a married man, especially not a married man who’d broken her heart.

  Come to think of it, for a married man he’d been awfully carefree about hanging out with her for a couple of hours when he should have been home with his wife and son. Obviously, his morals hadn’t improved since the days when he’d slept with another woman shortly after professing his undying love for her. That alone should be warning enough for her to give him a very wide berth.

  Because of that, she set the alarm for six. She’d be showered, dressed and on her way somewhere by seven, long before Pete showed up in the morning. It was one thing to agree to let him do the job Ashley had hired him to do. It was another thing entirely to stick around and watch and be tormented—and tempted—in the process.

  Pete knew exactly how Jo’s mind worked, which was one reason he was pulling up in front of Rose Cottage shortly after six-thirty in the morning. The fact that every light in the house was blazing told him he’d been right to guess that she would be preparing to be long gone before he turned up.

  He sat in his truck with the heater pumped up on high and waited. Sure enough, at seven o’clock the lights began to switch off. Immediately after the last one went out, the front door opened. She was so busy concentrating on getting her key into the lock, she apparently didn’t even notice when he cut the truck’s engine, swung down from the front seat and stepped into her path. She turned around and ran smack into him. He steadied her and looked straight into eyes blazing with anger and dismay.

  “Going somewhere?” he inquired, regarding her with amusement. “I don’t recall you being such an early bird.”

  She frowned at him. “Why are you here?” she asked, guilt written all over her face.

  “I told you I’d be here first thing this morning.”

  “You said eight o’clock.”

  “I did,” he agreed. “And then I got to thinking.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “About what?”

  “How likely it was that you’d bolt before I got here, if you had the chance.”

  “Maybe I was just going out to grab breakfast,” she said defensively. “Maybe I’d planned to be back by eight.”

  “Did you?”

  She avoided his gaze, apparently unwilling to utter a blatant lie. “Why does it even matter where I was going? You don’t need me here. I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of handling this very difficult job all by yourself.”

  “True, but I was counting on that coffee,” he said cheerfully.

  “I didn’t make any coffee.”

  “Not a problem,” he said, circling an arm around her shoulders and turning her in the direction of his truck. “Since I got such an early start, there’s plenty of time for us to go into town and have breakfast together. I’ll even treat.”

  “I am not going into town with you,” she said, sounding horrified by the suggestion.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not. It’s a terrible idea. What on earth is wrong with you?”

  Pete couldn’t imagine why she found the idea so abhorrent. He concluded, though, that asking wasn’t likely to get him a straight answer. “Then I’d say we’re at an impasse,” he said with a shrug. “Everyone knows it’s vi tally important to have coffee for the men on a job site. It’s like an unwritten rule.”

  Her scowl deepened, but she whirled around and headed for the house. “Fine. I’ll make your damn coffee, but then I’m leaving.”

  He beamed at her. “Works for me,” he said.

  Inside, though, he opened the refrigerator and took out eggs, bacon and butter. “Might as well have breakfast while we’re at it.”

  Her color was definitely better this morning, but she still had that sad, haunted look in her eyes, and she was too damned thin. Whatever was bothering her had evidently ruined her appetite. He was no gourmet chef, as he’d heard her sister Maggie was, but he could handle breakfast.

  “What makes you think I wasn’t planning on meeting my sisters for breakfast in town?” she inquired testily.

  “For one thing, you didn’t mention it,” he said reasonably. He leveled a look straight into her eyes. “Were you?”

  Her gaze wavered before she finally sighed. “No.”

  “Then have a seat. I’ll whip something up in no time. We can catch up.”

  “Pete, I don’t want to catch up with you,” she said with evident frustration. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you.”

  He shook his head. “Is that anything to say to an old friend?”

  “You are not my friend.”

  He met her gaze. “I was. I could be again.”

  “I don’t think so.” Her anxious gaze settled on the coffeemaker as if she could will it to brew the coffee faster. “As soon as this is ready, I’m out of here. In fact, since it pretty much does the work all on its own, I’ll go now. Help yourself when it’s ready. Enjoy your breakfast.”

  When she reached for her coat, Pete put his hand on hers. She jerked away.

  “Stop it,” she ordered fiercely. “I don’t want you touching me.”

  He winced at the evidence of her aversion. Okay, so he understood it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t cut right through him.

  “Jo, come on,” he pleaded. “We obviously need to talk. We need to settle a few things.”

  She glowered at him. “We needed to talk seven years ago, but I didn’t see you beating down the door to do it.”

  Another direct hit, he thought wearily. She was getting good at it. “I was twenty years old and stupid. I should have talked to you, but you’d already left town.”

  “And what? The phones didn’t work?”

  “I was embarrassed and ashamed.”

  She gave him a disbelieving look.

  “Okay, I was a coward,” he admitted. “I came by and talked to your grandmother. That was hard enough. I didn’t have the guts to face you. I figured she’d tell you everything. I convinced myself it would be easier for you to hear it from her.”

  “Of course you did,” Jo accused bitterly. “And believe me, it was so much easier having my grandmother be the one to share the news that was going to break my heart,” she added in a voice rich with sarcasm. “She tried hard to be nonchalant. So did I, but we were both lousy at it.”

  Pete winced at the image she’d painted. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It was a rotten thing to do to you and to her.”

  “Yes, it was,” she said, not giving an inch. “Now if we’ve rehashed the past sufficiently, do you mind if I take off?”

  He made one last try to keep her there. “Sure you don’t want to stay? I make a terrific omelet.”

  “So do a lot of people. It’s not that hard.” She gave him a withering look. “I trust I won’t find you here when I get back.”

  His own appetite ruined, Pete put the food back in the refrigerator, then turned to face her. “I suppose that depends on how long you intend to hide out.”

  “As long as it takes.”

  She would do it, too. Pete could see in her eyes that
she would find some way to avoid him until the job was done. Maybe he should let her, but he couldn’t imagine himself giving up so easily. If she wanted him to pay penance for what he’d done to her, that was only fair. If she wanted to rail at him, curse him, keep him at arm’s length, that was okay, too. He deserved whatever she wanted to dish out.

  But he would keep coming back, not because he was stubborn. Not because he wanted to be a thorn in her side. He’d keep coming back because the moment he’d laid eyes on her again, he’d known he had no choice.

  He was still in love with her, or at least with the sweet, vulnerable girl she’d once been. It remained to be seen if the woman was as captivating. Based on the way his hormones were raging, he was pretty sure she was.

  Jo knew she wasn’t thinking straight when she drove straight out to Maggie’s farm, her temper still boiling. What was it going to take to make Pete see that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him? She didn’t want him as a friend. She certainly didn’t want him as anything more. What did it say about him—or her—that he even thought she might? The man was married, for goodness sake, though he apparently didn’t seem to care much about that little detail.

  If she’d spent one more second with him at Rose Cottage, she might have slapped him silly for his presumption.

  Or she might have kissed him. That had been a definite possibility, too. She was willing to admit that. She was such an idiot! Maybe she’d sunk so low that her morals were no better than his.

  Before getting on the road, she’d spent a long time in the driveway thinking about that, shocked that she would even consider such a thing for a single second.

  When he’d walked out of the house while she was still sitting there, her gaze had fallen on him with seven years of pent-up longing. She knew he was aware of her, knew he was counting on her staring when he hefted that heavy ax over his head and started his demolition of the porch.

  Her hand was shaking so badly, she almost hadn’t been able to turn the key in the ignition. She’d actually stalled out twice before she finally got away from Rose Cottage and Pete’s barely muffled laughter. He hadn’t even tried to hide his gloating.

  All the way to Maggie’s she kept telling herself to calm down. If her sister saw her like this, she would know something was up. It didn’t take a genius to see that Pete had rattled her. Since she was never, ever rattled, it was going to be a dead giveaway.

  When she pulled up outside of Maggie’s, she spotted Ashley’s and Melanie’s cars. She cursed another blue streak at the sight and almost turned right around and headed back to town, but with all this adrenaline pumping, she was hungry. She cut the engine, drew in a deep calming breath and went inside.

  She’d barely stepped into Maggie’s gourmet, professional kitchen before her temper stirred again. All three women were seated at the table, the last crumbs of a pecan coffee cake on their plates, mugs filled with fragrant coffee. They looked so blasted innocent, but one of them was a traitor, albeit an unwitting one. Her money was definitely on Ashley. Jo figured she’d ask anyway, just in case she and Pete both had gotten it all wrong.

  “Okay, which one of you did it?” she asked before she’d even removed her coat.

  “Did what?” Maggie asked, then went right on as if the question and the answer were of no consequence. “There’s more coffee cake if you want it. It’s in the oven to keep it warm. And I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Help yourself. If we’d known you were coming, we’d have waited.”

  Jo tried to tamp down her irritation and act just as cool. She took off her coat, tossed it over a chair, retrieved the coffee cake, then poured herself some coffee before sitting down at the table. She cut herself a huge slice of the coffee cake as she inquired, “Who called Pete Catlett and sent him to my doorstep last night?”

  Three perfectly bland expressions greeted her.

  “Then he did come by?” Ashley said, confirming her role in getting him there. “Good.”

  “You seem upset,” Melanie noted, looking more curious than repentant.

  “I’m not upset,” she said, struggling to keep her tone neutral. She thought she was doing an admirable job of it. “Just surprised.”

  “Everyone, including Ashley, says Pete does the best work of anyone in the area. Do you have a problem with letting him fix the porch?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes, I have a problem with it,” she blurted without thinking. Damn, damn, damn. So much for neutrality. She should have taken some other approach. Now she’d all but admitted that it was personal.

  “Which is?” Maggie persisted.

  Jo tried to backtrack and come up with an explanation that wouldn’t stir up more questions. “You didn’t consult me,” she said finally. “It’s got nothing to do with Pete. I’m sure he’s very qualified, but I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with having him underfoot day in and day out. He’s there right now, brandishing some sort of weapon that smashes boards. I’ll be lucky if the place is standing when I get back.”

  “Come on, Jo. Don’t exaggerate. He knows what he’s doing,” Ashley soothed, then grinned. “And he’s easy on the eye, don’t you think? He did a lot of the work for us, when Josh and I were fixing up our place. If I’d been single, I’d have definitely given him a second look.”

  Jo rolled her eyes. She was beginning to get a much clearer picture. Pete’s presence was a gift from her big sister, a male distraction, eye candy. Geez-oh-flip, she was distraught over a broken engagement and Ashley was serving up more testosterone. If only she and the others understood the irony of this particular gesture.

  Jo glanced up and realized Melanie was studying her with obviously increased curiosity.

  “Is there some particular reason you don’t want Pete underfoot? I mean Pete specifically,” Melanie inquired. “I wasn’t even aware that you knew him, yet you seem to have taken an almost instant dislike to the man.”

  Jo sighed. That was not a road she intended to travel down, even with her sisters. Her life was pathetic enough in their eyes at the moment without rehashing ancient history. She’d already stirred up more suspicion than she’d intended to.

  “I don’t dislike him,” she lied. “I just wish you’d let me find my own contractor. I have a broken heart, not a broken brain. I need to find things to do, if I’m going to stay here for a while. I can’t just mope around the house all day. And despite what you think, looking at some hunk you’ve found for me is not the answer.”

  “It’s an interesting start, though, don’t you agree?” Ashley asked. “I’d think you’d be more appreciative.”

  Jo tried to muster up the expected gratitude, but all she could think of was just how badly their good intentions had gone awry.

  “Have you spoken to him?” she asked Ashley instead. “Has he told you how long this job will take or how much it will cost? The man builds huge houses. I’ve seen the signs for them everywhere. He’s bound to charge a fortune for a minor little repair like this. I’m sure someone else, a handyman for instance, could do the work for a lot less.”

  “Too late now, if Pete’s already started. Besides, I told you not to worry about the cost,” her big sister said. “And I trust Pete to do what needs to be done and to give me a reasonable price.”

  “Really?” she said skeptically. “You trust him?”

  Ashley’s antennae went on full alert. “Is there some reason you think I shouldn’t? I thought you said you didn’t know him.”

  Jo saw that she wasn’t going to maneuver her sister into firing Pete, not without giving her something specific to go on. Since she wasn’t about to admit the one thing that might have done it, she merely shrugged.

  “It’s your money,” she told Ashley. “I suppose I can put up with him for however long this takes. I don’t know how much thinking I’ll get done with all that clatter going on, though.”

  “Just as well,” Melanie said. “You’re probably thinking too much. Forget about what happened in Boston. Forget about everything an
d relax.”

  Jo bit back a laugh. As if she could relax when she was brushing up against the past every time she turned around! “Sure. I’ll try.”

  “Maybe I should stop by and tell Pete he needs to clear everything with you,” Ashley suggested, her expression thoughtful. “That way you can decide when it’s most convenient for him to be there. He’s an accommodating guy.”

  “No,” Jo said hurriedly. The last thing she wanted was to have her very perceptive big sister watching the interaction between her and Pete. “I’m sure we can devise some sort of schedule that works for both of us. I have no idea why I’m making such a big thing out of this. It’s silly, really.”

  “Are you sure? The last thing I want to do is add more stress to your life,” Ashley told her.

  Too late for that, Jo thought. She plastered a smile on her face. “Not to worry,” she assured Ashley. “I’m sorry I got you all worked up over this. It’s not a big deal. Really.” She stood up. “Now I’ve got to run.”

  “Run where?” Maggie asked. “You haven’t even touched your coffee cake.”

  Somewhere, anywhere, Jo thought desperately.

  She grabbed up the slab of cake and wrapped it in a napkin. “Errands,” she said succinctly. “I’ll take this with me.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Melanie offered, pushing back her chair and standing. “I have some errands of my own.”

  Jo frowned at her. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Melanie immediately sat back down. “Sorry.”

  Relenting, Jo crossed the room and gave her a hug. “I need to do things for myself, okay? It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer.”

  “I know,” Melanie said, regarding her with sympathetic understanding. “We’re hovering.”

  “You’re hovering,” Jo confirmed.

  “Okay, then, go off on your own, baby sister,” Ashley said. “If you need us, all you have to do is call.”

  Jo grinned. “I have all your numbers on speed dial on my cell phone.”