Читать книгу Here with Me - Holly Jacobs - Страница 11

“No, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong…. I like my life just the way it is.” Lee Singer wished she could hang up. But hanging up wasn’t an option, so she worked at tuning out her mother’s you-could-do-somuch-better lecture. After all, she’d heard it so many times she could almost quote it verbatim.

So much potential, blah, blah, blah.

Wasting your life, blah, blah, blah.

If only you had some drive, some ambition, blah, blah, blah.

Mid-lecture, the door opened at Lee’s small Perry Square art shop, Singer’s Treasures, and a man walked in.

Her conversation with her mother faded to mere background static as she studied the customer with an uncharacteristic feminine awareness.

It wasn’t that she didn’t notice good-looking men, it was just that most of the time she didn’t get hit with this sudden zing.

The man in question was tall. At five-six, she wasn’t a tiny woman, but he towered over her. Sixtwo maybe?

Black hair, not a strand out of place, dark eyes that didn’t look as if they missed anything. He was dressed in a neatly pressed polo shirt and Dockers. He wasn’t exactly scowling, but he wasn’t exactly smiling either.

No, he was sort of studying her with an intensity that made her very…

She searched for a word to describe the heart-pounding, blood-roaring feeling his scrutiny gave her. A word to describe how looking at him made her feel.

Desire.

That was it.

Not that she’d act on it. Lee believed herself to be the type of woman who knew that what was on the inside mattered more than how a person was packaged. But this man’s packaging was a sight to behold.

She tried to steady her thoughts and her heart rate, and managed to say, “Pardon me a sec, Mom. A customer just walked in.” She put a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “May I help you?”

“I came about a rental property on Lake Erie. I saw the ad in the paper and it said to contact Singer’s Treasures.”

She uncovered the phone and said, “Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go.”

“I wasn’t finished,” her mother said. “Your father and I have a surprise. We’re—”

Her mother would never be finished because they were never going to see eye to eye on Lee’s life choices. She had realized that long ago, but she couldn’t help but wish her relationship with her mother was different.

“Sorry, Mom, but business calls. And business is supposed to be my priority. Remember? Send my love to Dad.”

Before her mother could utter any further protests, Lee clicked off the power on the portable phone, then set it on the counter.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Parents. You know how they are.”

“Not really,” the man said.

From his expression she could tell she’d made a faux pas.

“I’m sorry,” she offered, though she wasn’t sure what she was sorry for. She decided to take her mother’s advice and for once be all business. “You wanted to know about the cottage I have to rent.”

He nodded, still studying her.

“It’s small, a one bedroom that sits on the lake. It has great views, if you like the water. I usually rent it out by the week. Plumbing, electricity…the basics, but not very fancy.”

A man this pressed and preppy on a hot, humid summer day was the type who was used to fancy…demanded fancy, even.

Her small cottage probably wouldn’t suit him at all.

“Is it vacant?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’ll take it for a month.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a checkbook.

“But you haven’t even seen it,” Lee protested, knowing it wasn’t a very businesslike response.

He ignored her. “How much for a month?”

Lee thought quickly. She’d never been overly aggressive about renting the cottage out and never for an entire month.

The cottages were built by her grandmother and her great-aunt on lakefront property years ago. They stood side-by-side overlooking Lake Erie. Lee now lived in her grandmother’s cottage and rented out its twin.

She wasn’t sure she wanted this man living next to her that long. The feelings he stirred were not conducive to a quiet, happy summer.

Tense. That’s how she felt. Like a string on a bow, pulled taut.

A string that hadn’t been pulled in far too long.

A string she wasn’t sure she wanted pulled.

She named an absurd rate that amounted to what she’d made all of last year renting the cottage out sporadically.

He didn’t blink an eye. Didn’t even pause. He just started writing in his checkbook.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Paying in advance.” He paused and looked up. “I assume you’re not going to object to the month’s rent up front, are you?”

“No, but I…I mean…”

“How do you want the check made out? To you personally, or to the store?”

“Either way,” she said weakly, unsure how he’d managed to rent a cottage she wasn’t sure she wanted to rent to him.

“If I’m going to make it out to you personally, what name should I use?”

“Lee,” she said. “Uh, Lee Singer.”

“Lee?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes. And I suppose if you’re going to be renting the cottage, I should know your name.”

“Adam,” he said, then waited half a beat, watching her intently again. “Adam Benton.”

He thrust out his hand, obviously ready to shake on the deal.

But the funny thing was, Lee absolutely didn’t want to shake his hand…didn’t want to touch him at all. Not because he was scary, but because he wasn’t. Not the least bit.

After her disastrous marriage, she’d sworn off men. But for this one, she might reconsider. And that’s why she didn’t want to touch him.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of any way out of it. So she took his hand, gave it one quick shake, then pulled back. That small bit of contact made her feel as if she’d been running a marathon. Her heart was racing, her palms were sweaty and her mouth was dry.

She nervously fingered her necklace.

“What’s that?” he asked, peering at her neck.

She dropped her hand, hoping he’d shift his attention. “Nothing. It’s just a nervous habit.”

“No, the necklace. It looks unusual.”

“Oh.” She pulled the small glass rectangle out so he could see it. “It’s one of my necklaces. It’s what Singer’s Treasures is known for.”

She pointed down at the glass case filled with jewelry.

Her small Perry Square store specialized in jewelry made from small bits of glass, polished smooth by the lake. Blues, browns, greens and translucent.

Lee took the glass and fashioned it into all kinds of interesting pieces. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets.

In addition to the jewelry, the store sold other trinkets. Small driftwood carvings. Paintings of the lake. Most of the work was hers, although she did display other people’s pieces on consignment.

But the lake was the theme that ran through all the treasures in the store.

Lake Erie was her inspiration.

Her home.

She realized the man, Adam, was studying her again. It was almost as if he was looking for something. She wasn’t sure what.

She dropped her necklace and tried to get back to the business at hand. “Before I cash your check, you should take a look at the cottage to be sure it will suit.”

“You made all these?” he asked, studying the contents of the case and ignoring her comment.

“Yes. Now, about the cottage. You’re sure you don’t want to see it first?”

He tilted his head, then smiled a slow upturn of his lips. Rather than making him look less intimidating, it made him look even more so.

“I’m sure,” he said in a low, smooth voice. “You see, I’m the kind of man who knows what he wants, then goes after it. And right now I need someplace quiet to figure a few things out. Your cottage on the lake should be just right.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she simply said, “Oh. Well, thank you.”

“The key.” There was the slightest hesitation, then he added her name, “Lee.”

“Oh, right.” She rummaged through her desk drawer and withdrew the key. “Here you go. And if you wait, I’ll copy you directions. It’s about twenty minutes from here.”

“Don’t bother. I know the way.”

“But how?” she asked.

He ignored the question. “I’ll be moving in tomorrow. Thank you.”

He turned and headed out of the shop, stopped abruptly and turned. “I’ll be seeing you, Lee.”

Again, there was a weird pause as he said her name.

“Yes, you will, you see—” She started to tell him she lived next door, but he simply turned and left.

She looked at the check.

Adam Benton.

It listed a New York address.

Her grandmother used to say everything always happens for a reason. Lee couldn’t help wondering just what reason Adam Benton had for renting her cottage.

And even more, she couldn’t help but wonder about her out-of-character reaction to him. There was something about him…something more than just attraction. Almost a familiarity.

She shook her head. That was silly. She’d certainly remember meeting a man like Adam Benton.

And yet the feeling nagged at her. There was something about him.

Well, she’d have the next four weeks to figure it out.

The thought wasn’t very comforting.

Her new tenant had been gone less than ten minutes when the front door of the shop opened again.

“Now, that was a fine lookin’ man if I ever saw one,” Pearly Gates, Perry Square’s version of a town crier, said as she strode into the shop. “He met up with some woman and baby in the park after he left here. The three of them got into an SUV and drove off.”

“That’s nice,” Lee said, not knowing what else Pearly was after, but knowing there would be something.

“So who is he?” Pearly, a spry, grey-haired woman with a touch of the south in her voice, pulled a stool up to the glass case that held Lee’s jewelry and waited for her explanation.

“Why would you think he was anything except a customer?” Lee asked, rather than answering.

“A customer doesn’t spend nigh on twenty minutes pacin’ up and down the block. He paused in front of your door at least half a dozen times and I’d think, there he goes, he’s goin’ in. But he wouldn’t. He’d just walk down the block again. Looked to me like he was workin’ up his nerve.”

“I can’t imagine why. Maybe he was just trying to get a feel for the neighborhood.”

“Ha,” Pearly said, not a bit convinced. “He didn’t look like someone coming from the police station, and he barely slowed his gait when he walked by the Five and Dine. Misty says today’s a cinnamon-roll day. Who can resist slowin’ up to smell that? No, he was working up his nerve for something. And I want to know what it was.”

“How do you know what’s going on over here? I’m across the park from Snips and Snaps for goodness sake. Do you have a telescope over there or something?”

“Good eyes. It’s genetic. My great-grandmother Hazel lived to be ninety-eight and never needed glasses. She claimed she didn’t need hearing aids either, but the woman was deaf as a post. Did I ever tell you about the time she—”

The shop’s door opened again and a couple came in, interrupting Pearly’s story. Which was sort of a relief as Pearly’s stories could easily take an entire afternoon for the telling, what with all the twists, turns and tangents she put in them.

“Welcome to Singer’s Treasures,” Lee called out. “Let me know if I can assist you in any way.”

“Thank you,” the woman said.

“Well, Pearly, I guess that story’s going to have to wait.”

“Fine. You can dodge the story of how Hazel lost her bloomers on Main Street, but only if you tell me about the mystery man.”

Lee should have just admitted defeat the first time Pearly had asked. To the best of her knowledge, no one had ever dodged her for long.

“His name’s Adam Benton. He rented my cottage.” Again, a feeling of familiarity swept over her as she mentioned his name.

She had to be imagining a connection. After all, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t want a connection to a gorgeous man like Adam Benton?

“He’s staying out at your place?” Pearly asked.

Lee could just imagine how Pearly could distort that particular slant on the story, so she quickly tried to set it to right. “Not my place, the other cottage.”

“Well, well, well.” Pearly studied her a moment, then broke out in a huge grin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. Another Perry Square match could be in the making.”

“You said he had a woman and a baby in the park. He’s probably married and bringing the whole family out.”

“Nah. He didn’t touch the lady once. He just nodded at her when he came out of here. I don’t think there’s anything between them.”

“They probably were just fighting, or maybe she had all she could do to handle the baby.”

“Or maybe it was his sister and niece, and he’s single. I like the sound of a nice-looking, single man living with you.”

“Not with me, next to me.” Pearly looked as if she were going to argue, so Lee continued, “Don’t get any ideas, Pearly Gates. Just because you’re in love, doesn’t mean I will be. I’ve tried a relationship in the past, and it’s obvious I don’t have what it takes. Plus, I like my life just as it is.”

Pearly had come back from a trip to Europe with a new boyfriend. Not quite a new boyfriend. An old boyfriend she’d rediscovered. Their story was the talk of the Square.

Pearly had gone to a small European country, Eliason, for a wedding, and had discovered her childhood sweetheart had been an ambassador to the country for years before he’d retired. They’d picked up their tumultuous relationship and when Pearly had come back to Perry Square, the ambassador had followed.

“Sure, you love your life,” Pearly said, still grinning. “I loved mine as well. But even though finding my Buster has changed it, it’s a change for the better.”

“Pearly—” Lee started to warn her, but at that moment her customers came up and asked about a painting. While she answered them, Pearly sneaked out.

The coward.

Lee didn’t even want to hear the rumors that would be flying up and down the square before tomorrow’s breakfast.

Pearly Gates would make a mountain out of this molehill.

Another match?

Ha.

Perry Square might have had a number of matches of late, but Lee Singer wasn’t about to join the ranks. She was wise enough to learn from her mistakes.

There was absolutely no way she was matching with anyone.

Not even if her new tenant was one of the best-looking men she’d seen in a long time.

The next day, Adam Benton got out of his SUV and breathed deeply, then exhaled slowly. He studied the twin cottages. They looked exactly as he remembered them. Two one-story buildings with well-weathered clapboard siding and huge front porches complete with rockers and tables.

As he drank in the sight, he felt as if he were coming home, which was ridiculous. Home was New York.

This?

The cottage just outside Erie in Northeast Pennsylvania was just a place where he used to live near this girl he used to know.

And that girl, Mary Eileen Singer, had never really liked him much.

He smiled and acknowledged she had every right not to like him. He’d tormented her with all the gusto a young boy could.

A loud squawk from the back of the SUV announced that Jessie was ready to be set free.

“Hey, there, kiddo,” he said as he worked the myriad of hooks and buckles that locked the baby into the car seat.

Actually, now that Jessie was mobile, he should probably start thinking of her as a toddler.

“Here we go,” he said as he lifted her out of the car.

Jessie immediately arched her back, her nonverbal cue that she didn’t want to be held. He set her down and she squealed with delight.

“Don’t eat the grass,” he warned as her chubby fingers grabbed a large hunk and started pulling.

She giggled, not the least bit intimidated. “What on earth am I going to do with you?”

That’s what this break was all about—figuring out what to do about Jessie.

He remembered all those years ago. His parents had died, and he’d gone to live with a foster family. Then one day, his social worker had announced she’d found his uncle, and that this unknown relative had agreed to let Adam come live with him.

He hadn’t been thrilled about going to New York. But over time, he and Paul had sort of meshed. Adam had continued living with his uncle while he’d gone to college and things had been great. Two single guys in the city.

A year after Adam started, Paul met Cathie.

Adam remembered those first few months Paul had dated her. Adam had been obnoxious.

That seemed to be a theme in his past—obnoxious.

He hoped he’d grown out of it.

He watched as Paul and Cathie’s daughter picked the grass and let it run through her fingers.

She didn’t seem to be too affected from her loss. Adam, on the other hand, was reeling from losing Paul and Cathie two months ago.

They were the only family he had—except for Jessie, their daughter. His cousin and goddaughter.

Adam Benton might know how to handle himself in the business world, but he wasn’t equipped for this, for dealing with an eighteen-month-old.

Jessica Aubrey Benton was his responsibility.

Paul and Cathie had trusted him to raise her.

When the lawyer had told him, it had shocked him. He’d assumed they’d named Cathie’s folks Jessie’s guardians.

Cathie’s parents had assumed the same and had been equally shocked.

But Paul and Cathie had named him guardian in their will. Their choice still didn’t make sense to Adam. But he’d picked the toddler up from her grandparents just two weeks ago, determined to take some time with her and decide what to do.

He shook his head as he watched Jessie gleefully wiggle her fingers in the long grass.

Give him a room full of corporate execs. Give him a computer system that needed to be created from scratch…that he could deal with.

Even give him the new computer chip that he hoped would put Delmark, Inc. on the road to success and he was in his element.

Yes, Adam Benton could cope and plan on par with just about anyone when it came to business matters.

But Jessie?

He just wasn’t sure what to do with her.

He loved her, but he wasn’t prepared for taking over her care on his own.

After the will had been read, Cathie’s parents had immediately started pressuring him to let them have her and raise her. Part of him agreed it was the best idea. The other part felt obligated to honor Paul’s request.

He was torn and needed time to sort out what was going to be best for Jessie.

But he wasn’t going to figure anything out standing in the driveway. He got busy unpacking the car. Once he got Jessie’s box of toys, she was content to play with them on the porch. As soon as she’d dumped the box, she’d drop them all back in, then start again.

He hadn’t brought much. A few suitcases for each of them, his laptop, printer and fax machine, and Jessie’s toys and her portable crib.

When everything was in the living room, he scooped up Jess and her toys, and she played while he set up the crib in the bedroom. As soon as it was up, he laid her down. She must have been tired because she was almost agreeable as she settled down for her nap with just a token of a complaint.

Adam cracked her bedroom window so he could hear her, and went out to the front porch. It had two rockers on it, just as it always had. They looked weathered enough to be the same two that had sat here years before.

Nothing about the twin cottages on the lake seemed to have changed, unlike Mary Eileen.

Lee.

She’d changed her name.

Well, not really changed it, but altered it.

Not that he could find fault with that. He’d altered his as well.

He’d almost forgotten Mary Eileen Singer until he’d read an article a month ago. It talked about how a small shop on Perry Square was making big waves with its unique jewelry. He hadn’t connected the girl he knew with the jewelry artist Lee Singer until he’d seen her picture. At the time, it had spurred a passing memory of his time in Erie.

But after he lost Paul and Cathie in the accident, he’d known Erie was the perfect place to get away and figure things out. He’d known that Lee would—

He broke off his thoughts of the past as a Jeep came down the long dirt driveway.

She was here.

Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled into a casual ponytail. He knew if he were closer he could see the hints of red that threaded through its strands.

What he could never be sure of was how her eyes would look. They were the type of neutral color that seemed to change day to day, much like the lake. Sometimes almost blue, sometimes a dark gray that almost bordered on black.

She spotted him on the porch and waved. She didn’t look overly excited to see him.

Well, that was one thing that hadn’t changed, because Mary Eileen had never been overly enthused with his company, although she’d always been kind and polite.

It was that kindness he remembered the most. Maybe that’s why he’d returned? The article appearing the day before Paul and Cathie’s accident—the day his world had tilted on its axis and changed so fast—seemed like a sign.

Maybe that’s why he’d been drawn back to this spot. He needed something stable, something he could count on. This place was the only stable thing he could recall now that Paul and Cathie were gone.

Mary Eileen Singer’s kindness was like that…dependable. He hadn’t seen her in eighteen years, but he knew in his gut that quality about her hadn’t changed.

“Mr. Benton,” Mary Eileen called as she approached. “Are you all settled in?”

“Yes, thank you. I didn’t bring much, so it didn’t take long. It was nice of you to stop by and check on me,” he said.

“I wasn’t being nice. I started to tell you, before you so abruptly left—”

She was scolding him, he realized, and resisted the urge to grin at the thought. He hadn’t been scolded…well, in a very long time.

“—that I live in the cottage next to yours.”

“I thought you might.”

“But you left so fast that I didn’t have a chance,” she continued; then what he’d said hit her and she paused a moment, then asked, “What do you mean, you thought I might live here?”

He knew he should have told her earlier who he was when he first saw her again, but some devil of an inclination wanted to see if she’d recognize him.

She hadn’t.

He should have felt a sense of satisfaction that he’d changed that much. He had worked hard to become Adam Benton, trying to leave the troubled boy he’d been behind.

He’d obviously succeeded.

And yet, he’d thought maybe Mary Eileen would see through his facade.

“I know, Mary Eileen, because I’ve been here before. Not for a long time, but I remember how much this place meant to you.”

“What do you mean you’ve been here before? I would have…” She stopped a moment and stared at him.

“Matty Benton,” she whispered.

She did remember.

He felt suddenly lighter than he had in a long time.

“You said I wasn’t a Matt, and not really a Matty. What do you think of an Adam?”

She continued to study him and Adam felt a bit naked. Not in a no-clothes sense, but rather in a she-could-see-all-the-things-he’d-rather-keep-hidden sort of way.

She’d always made him feel like that.

But this was slightly different. Her study left him feeling more than a sense of coming home. It left him wanting to reach out and pull her into his arms.

He wondered how she’d react.

He doubted she’d melt into him and cover him with kisses.

No, he rather thought she’d deck him.

The thought made his smile broaden.

“Well?” he prompted.

She nodded slowly. “Yes, Adam suits you. It’s who you are. Matthew Adam Benton.”

“Adam Mathias Benton.”

“Oh, la-di-da,” she said with a laugh. “To be honest, that suits you even better.”

“And you, Lee instead of Mary Eileen.”

“Mary Eileen was a bit too long to fit on my artwork, so I started signing Lee and by the time I got to college it just stuck.”

“It suits you as well.”

“So, Adam,” she smiled as she said his name, “what brings you back to Erie from New York?”

How to answer that.

There were a dozen different ways, and all of them would be accurate up to a point.

“Da!” Jessie cried in a voice so loud it was hard to believe it came from such a tiny body.

“Pardon me,” he said, running into the cottage before Jessie tried to get out of the crib herself.

“Da,” she repeated as he came into her room.

Da.

Short for Adam.

He was swept away by the memory of Cathie working with Jessie, trying to get her to say Adam. Da was as close as she’d come.

He tried not to think of his uncle’s wife. Cathie had had a sense of happiness that had simply radiated in everything she’d done.

As he lifted Jessie out of the crib and she smiled at him, he was hit with a wave of regret that Paul and Cathie had missed that smile, just as they’d miss so many things in the coming years.

“Da,” Jessie said and started a string of babble that he couldn’t understand, but seemed of the utmost importance to Jessie.

“Come on, short stuff. I want to introduce you to someone.” He took the baby to the porch, but Lee was gone.

“Maybe later then,” he murmured to the baby.