Читать книгу Fiancé In Name Only - Maureen Child - Страница 9

Two

“Why are you buying pumpkins when you’re growing your own?”

They were already halfway down the twisting canyon road. The mountains rose up on either side of the narrow pass. Wide stands of pine trees stood as tall and straight as soldiers, while oaks, maples and birch trees that grew within those stands splashed the dark green with wild bursts of fall color.

“And,” Micah continued, “isn’t there somewhere closer you could buy the damn things?”

She turned her head to look at his profile. “Sure there is, but the produce stands have the big ones.”

Kelly could have sworn she actually heard his eyes roll. But she didn’t care. It was a gorgeous fall day, she was taking a ride in a really gorgeous car—even though it was going too fast for the pass—and she was sitting beside a gorgeous man who made her nervous.

And wasn’t that a surprise? Four years since her husband Sean had died and Micah was the first man to make her stomach flutter with the kind of nerves that she had suspected were dead or atrophied. The problem was, she didn’t know if she was glad of the appearance of those nerves or not.

Kelly rolled down the window and let the cold fall air slap at her in lieu of a cold shower. When she got a grip, she shifted in her seat to look at Micah. “Because I grow those to give away to the kids in the neighborhood.”

“And you can’t keep some for yourself?”

“I could, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun?” he repeated. “I’ve seen you out there weeding, clipping and whatever else it is you do to those plants. That’s fun?”

“For me it is.” The wind whipped her ponytail across her face and she pushed it aside to look at him. “Besides, if I was going to take lessons on fun from somebody, it wouldn’t be you.”

He snorted. “If you did, I’d show you more than pumpkins.”

Her stomach swirled a little at the implied promise in those words, but she swallowed hard and stilled it. He was probably used to making coded statements designed to turn women into slavering puddles. So she wouldn’t accommodate him. Yet.

“I’m not convinced,” she said with a shrug. “You’ve been in town two months and you’ve hardly left the house.”

“That’s work. No time for fun.”

“Just a chatterbox,” she mumbled. Every word pried out of him felt like a victory.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “So, what’s your idea of fun then?”

He took a moment to think it through, and said, “I’d start with chartering a private jet—”

“Your own personal jet,” she said, stunned.

He glanced at her and shrugged. “I don’t like sharing.”

She laughed shortly as she thought about the last time she’d taken a flight out of Salt Lake City airport. Crowded onto a full flight, she’d sat between a talkative woman complaining about her grandchildren and a businessman whose briefcase poked her in the thigh every time he shifted in his seat. Okay, she could see where a private jet would be nice. “Well sure. Okay, your jet. Then what?”

He steered the Range Rover down the mountain road, taking the tight curves like a race-car driver. If Kelly let herself worry about it, she’d be clinging to the edges of her seat. So she didn’t think about it.

“Well, it’s October, so I’d go to Germany for Oktoberfest.”

“Oh.” That was so far out of her normal orbit she hardly knew what to say. Apparently, though, once you got Micah talking about something that interested him, he would keep going.

“It’s a good place to study people.”

“I bet,” she murmured.

He ignored that, and said, “Writers tend to observe. Tourists. Locals. How people are interacting. Gives me ideas for the work.”

“Like who to murder?”

“Among other things. I once killed a hotel manager in one of my books.” He shrugged. “The guy was a jackass so, on paper at least, I got rid of him.”

She stared at him. “Any plans to kill off your current landlady?”

“Not yet.”

“Comforting.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “after a long weekend there, I’d go to England,” he mused, seriously considering her question. “There’s a hotel in Oxford I like.”

“Not London?”

“Fewer people to recognize me in Oxford.”

“That’s a problem for you?” she asked.

“It can be.” He took another curve that had Kelly swerving into him. He didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks to social media, my fans tend to track me down. It gets annoying.”

She could understand that. The photo of Micah on the back of his books was mesmerizing. She’d spent a bit of time herself studying his eyes, the way his hair tumbled over his forehead, the strong set of his jaw.

“Maybe you should take your photo off your books.”

“Believe me, I’ve suggested it,” Micah said. “The publisher won’t do it.”

Kelly really didn’t have anything to add to the conversation. She’d never been followed by strangers desperate to be close to her and the farthest she’d ever traveled was on her last flight—to Florida to visit her grandmother. England? Germany? Not really in her lifestyle. She’d love to go to Europe. Someday. But it wouldn’t be on a private jet.

She glanced out the window at the familiar landscape as it whizzed past and felt herself settle. Micah’s life was so far removed from her own it made Kelly’s head spin just thinking about it.

“One of these days,” she said suddenly, shifting her gaze back to his profile, “I’d like to go to Scotland. See Edinburgh Castle.”

“It’s worth seeing,” he assured her.

Of course he’d been there. Heck, he’d probably been everywhere. No wonder he stuck close to the house. Why would he be interested in looking around Banner, Utah? After the places he’d been, her small hometown probably appeared too boring to bother with. Well, maybe it wasn’t up to the standards of Edinburgh, or Oktoberfest in Germany, but she loved it.

“Good to know,” she said. “But until then, I’ll plant pumpkins for the kids.” She smiled to herself and let go of a twinge of envy still squeezing her insides. “I like everything about gardening. Watching the seeds sprout, then the vines spread and the pumpkins get bigger and brighter orange.” Smiling, she continued. “I like how the kids on the street come by all the time, picking out the pumpkins they want, helping water, pulling weeds. They get really possessive about their pumpkins.”

“Yeah,” he said wryly. “I hear them.”

He never took his eyes off the road, she noted. Was it because he was a careful driver, or was he just trying to avoid looking at her? Probably the latter. In the two months he’d been living in her Victorian, Micah Hunter had made eluding her an art form.

Sure, he was a writer, and he’d told her when he first arrived in town that he needed time alone to work. He wasn’t interested in making friends, having visitors or a guided tour of her tiny town. Friendly? Not so much. Intriguing? Oh, yeah.

Could she help it if tall, dark and crabby appealed to her? Odd though, since her late husband, Sean, had been blond and blue-eyed, with an easy smile. And nothing about Micah was easy.

“You don’t like kids?”

Briefly he slanted a look at her. “Didn’t say that. Said I heard them. They’re loud.”

“Uh-huh,” she said with a half smile. “And didn’t you say last week that it was too quiet in Banner?”

His mouth tightened but, grudgingly, he nodded. “Point to you.”

“Good. I like winning.”

“One point doesn’t mean you’ve won anything.”

“How many points do I need then?”

A reluctant smile curved his mouth, then flashed away again. “At least eleven.”

Wow. That half smile had come and gone so quickly it was like it had never been. Yet, her stomach was swirling and her mouth had gone dry. Kelly took a breath and slowly let it out again. She had to focus on what they were talking about, not what he was doing to her.

“Like ping-pong,” she said, forcing a smile she didn’t feel.

“Okay.” He sounded amused.

“All right, good,” Kelly said, leaning over to pat his arm mostly because she needed to convince herself she could touch him without going up in flames. But her fingers tingled, so she pulled them back fast. “Then it’s one to nothing, my favor.”

He shook his head. “You’re actually going to keep score?”

“You started it. You gave me a point.”

“Right. I’ll make a note.”

“No need, I’ll keep track.” She looked ahead because it was safer than looking at him. Then she smiled to herself. She’d gotten him to talk and had completely held her own in the conversation—until her imagination and hormones had thrown her off.

As long as she could keep those tingles and nerves in check, she could handle Mr. Magnetic.

* * *

For the next few days, Kelly was too busy to spend much time thinking about Micah. And that was just as well, she told herself. Mainly because the minute they returned from their pumpkin-shopping expedition, Micah had disappeared and she’d gotten the message.

Clearly he wanted her to know that their brief outing had been an aberration. He’d slipped back into his cave and she hadn’t caught a glimpse of him since. Probably for the best, she assured herself. Easier to keep her mind on her own life, her own responsibilities if the only time she saw Micah was in her dreams.

Of course, that didn’t make for restful sleeping, but she’d been tired before. One thing she hadn’t experienced before were the completely over-the-top, sexy-enough-to-melt-your-brain dreams. She hated waking up hot and needy. Hated having to admit that all she really wanted to do was go back to sleep and dream again.

“And don’t start thinking about those dreams or you won’t get any work done at all,” Kelly told herself firmly.

It wasn’t hard to push Micah into the back of her mind, since she juggled so many jobs that sometimes she just ran from one to the next. Thankfully, that gave her little opportunity to sit and wonder if sex with Micah in real life would be as good as it was in her dreams.

Although if it was, she might not survive the experience.

“Still,” she mused, “not a bad way to go.”

She shook her head, dipped a brush into the orange tempera paint, wiped off the excess, then painted the first of an orchard of pumpkins onto the Coffee Cave’s front window. Of all her different jobs, this was her favorite. Kelly loved painting holiday decorations on storefronts.

But she was also a virtual assistant, she ran websites for several local businesses, and was a Realtor who had just sold a house to that family from California. She was a gardener and landscape designer, and now she was thinking seriously about running for mayor in Banner’s next election, since she was just horrified by some of the current mayor’s plans for downtown. As she laid the paint out on the glass, her mind wandered.

Kelly had a business degree from Utah State, but once she’d graduated, she hadn’t wanted to tie herself down to one particular job. She liked variety, liked being her own boss. When she’d decided to go into several different businesses, a couple of her friends had called her crazy. But she remembered Sean encouraging her, telling her to do whatever made her happy.

That had her pausing as thoughts of Sean drifted through her mind like a warm breeze on a cool day. A small ache settled around her heart. She still missed him even though his features were blurred in her mind now—like a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

She hated that. It felt like a betrayal of sorts, letting Sean fade. But it would have been impossible to keep living while holding on to the pain, too. Time passed whether you wanted it to or not. And you either kept up or got run over.

On that happy notion, Kelly paused long enough to look up and down Main Street. Instantly, she felt better. Banner was a beautiful little town and had been a great place to grow up. Coming here as a heartbroken eight-year-old, she’d fallen in love with the town, the woods, the rivers, the waterfalls and the people here.

Okay, Banner wasn’t Edinburgh or Oxford or wherever, but it was...cozy. The buildings were mostly more than a hundred years old with creaky floors and brick walls. The sidewalks were narrow but neatly swept, and every one of the old lampposts boasted a basket of fall flowers at its base. In another month or so, there would be Christmas signs up and lights strung across the streets, and when the snow came, it would all look like a holiday painting. So, yes, she’d like to travel, see the world, but she would always come home to Banner.

Nodding to herself, she turned back to the window and quickly laid out the rest of the pumpkin patch along the bottom edge of the window.

“Well, that looks terrific already.”

Kelly turned to grin at her friend. Terry Baker owned the coffee shop and made the best cinnamon rolls in the state. With short black hair, bright blue eyes and standing at about five foot two, Terry looked like an elf. Which she didn’t find the least bit amusing.

The two of them had been friends since the third grade and nothing had changed over the years. Terry had been there for Kelly when Sean died. Now that Terry’s military husband had deployed for the third time in four years, it was Kelly’s turn to support her friend.

“Thanks, but I’ve got a long way to go yet,” Kelly said, taking a quick look at the window and seeing a spot she’d have to fill in with a few baby pumpkins.

“Hence the latte I have brewed just for you.” She held out the go-cup she carried.

“Hence?” Kelly took the coffee, savored a sip, then sighed in appreciation. “Have you been reading British mysteries again?”

“Nope.” Terry stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets. “With my sad love life, I’m home every night watching the British mysteries on TV.”

“Love lives can be overrated,” Kelly said.

“Right.” Terry nodded. “Who’re you trying to convince? Me? Or you?”

“Me, obviously, since you’re the only one of us with a man at the moment.”

Terry leaned one shoulder against the pale rose-colored brick of her building. “I don’t have one, either, trust me. It’s impossible to have phone sex on an iPad when half of Jimmy’s squad could walk in at any moment.”

Kelly laughed, grabbed another brush and laid down a twining green vine connecting all of the pumpkins. “Okay, that would be awkward.”

“Tell me about it. Remember when he called me as a surprise on my birthday and I jumped out of the shower to answer the call?” Terry shuddered dramatically. “I can still hear all the whistles from his friends who were there in the room.”

Still laughing, Kelly said, “Well, that’ll teach Jimmy to surprise you.”

“No kidding. Now we make phone appointments.” Terry grinned. “But enough about me. I hear you and the writer went for a long ride the other day.”

“How did you—” Kelly stopped, blew out a breath and nodded. “Right. Sally.”

“She and her sister came in for coffee yesterday and told me all about it,” Terry admitted, tipping her head to one side to study her friend. “The question is, if there was something to know, why didn’t I already know it?”

“Because it’s nothing,” Kelly said, focusing on her painting again. She added shadows and depth to the curling vines. “He took me to buy some pumpkins.”

“Uh-huh. Sally says you were gone almost two hours. Either you’re really picky about your pumpkins or something else was going on.”

Kelly sighed. “We went for a ride.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I showed him around a little.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Why not?”

Kelly just blinked. A couple of kids on skateboards shot down the sidewalk with a roar that startled her. “What?”

“Honey,” Terry said, stepping close enough to drop one arm around Kelly’s shoulders. “Sean’s been gone four years. You haven’t been on a single date in all that time. Now you’ve got this amazing-looking guy living in the Victorian for six months and you’re not going to do anything about it?”

Laughing a little, Kelly shook her head again. “What should I do? Tie him up and have my way with him?”

Terry’s eyes went a little dreamy. “Hmm...”

“Oh, stop it.” But even as she said it, a rush of heat filled Kelly. She only enjoyed it for a second or two before tamping it right down and mentally putting out the fire.

Honestly, she didn’t want or need the attraction she felt for Micah. He clearly wasn’t interested and Kelly had already loved and lost. She really had zero interest in a romance. Of any kind.

“Okay, fine,” Terry said, laughing. “If you’re determined to shut yourself up in a closet, wrapped in wool or something, there’s nothing I can do about it. But I swear, if the CIA ever needs more spies, I’m going to recommend Sally and Margie. Those two have their fingers on the pulse of everything that happens in town.”

And lucky Kelly lived right across the street from them. Sean used to laugh when he saw the older ladies, noses pressed to the windows. He would sweep Kelly into an elaborate dip and kiss her senseless, saying, “The reason they’re so nosy is no one’s ever kissed them senseless. So let’s give them something to talk about.”

That memory brought a sad smile that she just as quickly let slide away. Remembering Sean meant not only the good times, but the pain of losing him. She’d lost enough in her life, Kelly told herself firmly.

First her parents when she was just a kid, then her grandfather, then Sean. Enough already. And the only way to ensure she never went through that kind of pain again was to never let herself get that close with anyone again.

She had Terry. Her grandmother. A couple of good friends.

Who needed a man?

Micah’s image rose up in her mind and she heard a tiny voice inside her whisper, You do. He’s only here temporarily, why not take advantage? There’s no future there, so no risk.

True, Micah would only be in Banner for four more months, so it wasn’t as if—no.

Don’t think about it.

Sure. That would work.

“You know,” Terry said, interrupting Kelly’s stream of consciousness, “there’s a guy in Jimmy’s squad I think you’d really like...”

“Oh, no.” Kelly shook her head firmly. “Don’t go there, Terry. No setups. You know those never go well.”

“He’s a nice guy,” her friend argued.

“I’m sure he’s a prince,” Kelly said. “But he’s not my prince. I’m not looking for another man.”

“Well, you should be.” Terry folded her arms over her chest.

“Didn’t you just say there was nothing you could do about it if I wanted to lock myself in a closet?”

“I hate seeing you alone all the time.”

“You’re alone,” Kelly reminded her.

“For now, but Jimmy will be home in another couple of months.”

“And I’m happy for you.” Deliberately, Kelly turned back to her paints. She picked up the yellow and a small brush, then laid in the eyes on the first pumpkin. With the bright yellow, it would look like the pumpkin was lit by a candle. “I had a husband, Terry. Don’t want another one.”

From the corner of her eye, Kelly saw her friend’s shoulders slump in defeat. “I didn’t say I wanted you married.”

“But you do.”

“Not the point,” Terry said stubbornly. “Sweetie, I know losing Sean was terrible. But you’re too young to live the rest of your life like a vestal virgin.”

Kelly laughed. “The virgin ship sailed a long time ago.”

“You know what I mean.”

Of course she did. Terry had been saying pretty much the same thing for the last two years. She just didn’t understand that Kelly was too determined to avoid pain to ever take the kind of risk she was talking about. Loving was great. Losing was devastating, and she’d already lost enough, thanks.

“Yeah, I do, and I appreciate the thought—”

“No, you don’t,” Terry said.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Kelly glanced at her friend and smiled to take the sting out of her words. “Honestly, you’re as bad as Gran.”

“Oh, low blow,” Terry muttered. “She’s still worried?”

“Ever since Sean died and it’s gotten worse in the last year or so.” She focused on the paints even while she kept talking. “Gran’s even started making noises about moving back here so I won’t be lonely.”

“Oh, man.” Terry sighed. “I thought she loved living in Florida with her sister.”

“She does.” Kelly crouched down to paint in the faces of three other pumpkins. “The two of them go to bingo and take trips with their seniors club. She’s having a great time, but then she starts worrying about me and—”

Her cell phone rang and Kelly stood up to drag it from her jeans pocket. Glancing at the caller ID, she sighed and looked at Terry. “Speak of the devil...”

“Gran? Really?” Terry’s eyes went dramatically wide. “Boy, her hearing’s better than ever if she could catch us talking about her all the way from Florida!”

Kelly laughed. With a wince of guilt, she sent the call to voice mail.

“Seriously?” Terry sounded surprised. “You’re not going to talk to her?”

“Having one conversation about my lack of a love life is enough for today.”

“Fine.” Terry held up both hands in surrender. “I’ll back off. For now.”

“Thanks.” She tucked her phone away and tried not to feel badly about ditching her grandmother’s call.

“But,” Terry added before she went back into the coffee shop, “just because you’re not interested in a permanent man...”

Kelly looked at her.

“...doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a temporary one. I’m just saying.”

After she left, Kelly’s brain was racing. A temporary man. When she went back to her painting, she was still thinking, and as an ephemeral plan began to build in her mind, a speculative smile curved her mouth.