Maureen Child – Love - From His Point Of View!: Meeting at Midnight (страница 15)
Apparently, building-supply centers belonged in the “get fixed up first” category for Seely. I didn’t try to understand it.
I collected my walking stick and mug and lifted my left foot off the extra chair. My knee was a lot better, but I still kept that leg propped up much of the time. I limped over to the coffeepot. “Want some more?”
Duncan shook his head. He was looking tired, I thought. Night shifts didn’t agree with him. Then, too, he’d pulled a double in order to free up time for the camping trip with Zach—a trip the weather had cut short. We’d had our first good freeze Saturday night, accompanied by a light dusting of snow.
Duncan’s gaze held steady on me as I refilled my mug. “Maybe you should tell me why you asked. If you suspect Seely has a criminal background—”
“Nothing like that,” I said quickly. “There’s something she’s not telling me, that’s all.”
His mouth crooked up. “More than one thing, probably. Women have been failing to tell men everything for a few thousand years. Police departments don’t generally consider that a good reason to run a background check.”
He made my curiosity sound like a man-woman thing, not employer-employee. Which was accurate but annoying. “I didn’t want you to do it as a cop.”
“Well, as your brother I’m advising you to drop the idea.” He put the mug down. “Nosing around will just get you in trouble. Though if you really have to know something, you could hire a P.I.”
No way. I’d thought maybe Duncan could find out a few things discreetly. Her father’s name, for example. Some hint of why she was working at jobs way below her skill level. But I didn’t want some stranger snooping around in her life. “Never mind.”
“You know, this is weird.”
“What?”
“You. You’re acting different.” He nodded toward the front of the house. “The living room. It’s always been white.”
“You don’t like it green?”
“It looks fine. Felt weird when I walked in and saw it, though.” One corner of his mouth kicked up, as if he were reluctantly amused. “Sort of like a kid who goes away to college, comes home and finds out mom and dad redecorated without telling him.”
Dammit, I should have thought about how he’d feel. Charlie and Annie, too. This house was their heritage every bit as much as it was mine. “I ought to have said something. It’s your house, too, and you—”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Of course it is. Mom and Dad left it to all of us.”
“Twenty years ago, yes. But you’re the one who has lived here all these years, taken care of the place. This is your home.” He took a deep breath. “Gwen and I have talked about this. We want to deed my share of the house over to you.”
I slammed my mug down, ignoring the coffee that slopped over the rim. “Forget it.”
“There might be some tax liability for you, but she thinks we can minimize that.”
“Aren’t you listening?” I demanded. “Just because your wife could buy and sell this house ten times over doesn’t oblige me to accept a handout.”
Duncan shoved to his feet. “This has nothing to do with Gwen’s money! Dammit, you hard-headed son of a bitch, will you listen a minute?”
“I’m not hearing anything worth listening to. If you don’t—”
“Whoa!”
That came from Seely. Startled, I looked at the doorway.
She stood there, shaking her head. “Good grief. I can’t be accused of eavesdropping with Ben bellowing like a wounded moose. I heard him from the stairs. Ben.” She fixed me with a firm stare. “Do you really think Duncan offered to give you his share of this house because he enjoys flinging Gwen’s money around?”
I flushed. “No. But—”
“Not your turn.” She sauntered on into the kitchen, stopping in front of Duncan. “And did you really think Ben would take your inheritance from you?”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“It is to him.” She put her hands on her hips and looked from one to the other of us. “This is none of my business, of course. But it seems pretty simple. Ben lives here. Duncan doesn’t. Ben, I don’t know how you’re fixed financially, but could you buy Duncan’s share?”
“Sure.” I turned some numbers over in my head. The business had done well the past few years, and I wasn’t exactly extravagant. “We’ll need to get the place appraised, but I’ve got a pretty good idea of its current market value.”
Duncan shook his head. “We don’t want to use the current market value. It’s worth three times what it was twenty years ago, and none of us are going to make a profit off you. Charlie suggested—”
“You talked to Charlie about this? What is this, some kind of conspiracy?”
“Exactly. Annie, too. The plan was to wait until we could all be home at the same time and tackle you together. I, uh, jumped the gun.”
Seely chuckled. “Safety in numbers. A legitimate military tactic.”
I glanced at her. Did she know that Duncan had been in the Army until a few months ago? Probably. If Duncan hadn’t mentioned it, Gwen would have. People told her things.
“If you’re all in this together,” I told my brother, “you need to drop this notion of giving up your shares in the house for little or nothing. Charlie won’t take a fair price for his share if you and Annie don’t. The two of you may not need the money, but he does.” He’d just sunk every cent he had or could borrow into a partnership in a landscaping business. I’d already tried to give him a loan. Twice.
Duncan frowned. I decided to let him chew on that a while and turned to Seely. “Looks like you’re ready to go.”
She looked a damned sight better than “ready to go.” All that gorgeous hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back, and I could tell she’d fussed with makeup, turning her eyes sultry and her lips scarlet. She wore dark jeans and a sweater with geometric shapes in red, purple and yellow.
That sweater fit more snugly than anything I’d seen her wear before. My body took notice of this. Of course, my body had been on yellow alert almost constantly for the past three days.
“Just let me get my jacket and purse,” she said, and headed for the hall.
“I’d better be going, too,” Duncan said, carrying his mug over to the sink. “What are you getting at the building supply store?”
“We’re going to put up some shelves in my office here.” “I take it the ‘we’ means you’re supervising?” “All right,
“Hmm.” He stuck his mug in the dishwasher. “I owe Seely a thank-you.”
“I’ll tell her you enjoyed the coffee.” He slanted me an amused glance. “I didn’t mean for the coffee.”
It felt weird to sit in the passenger seat of my own car.
The Chevy was backup transportation, nearly ten years old but in good shape. Power windows, doors and steering; bench seats and a big back seat…big enough to give me some impractical ideas. Sexual frustration was bringing out the adolescent in me.
Seely drove with the same unrushed efficiency she did everything else. “I still don’t know how I let you talk me into taking you by the office. You aren’t supposed to be working yet.”
I pointed out that I hadn’t worked—I’d just checked on the work others were doing. I hadn’t even insisted on going to the Pearson site.
She grinned. “I suppose you think you get Brownie points for that.”
“I ought to.” If sexual frustration was robbing her of sleep and nudging stupid ideas into her head, it didn’t show.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I like looking at you.”
The faintest flush mounted her cheeks. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I’d been careful not to since letting her know my intentions. That was the right thing to do. Sexual innuendos were out of place while she was working for me. Besides, self-preservation called for restraint. I had to keep my eye on the line I’d drawn, or I’d find myself tumbling off another edge.
But I liked seeing that flush.
I’d spent too much time the past three days trying to figure out what was going on in her head. We had something strong and hot flowing between us. I knew that much because I’d caught her looking at me a few times, too. At twenty, I’d have assumed that meant she agreed with me, that she wanted to have an affair as soon as the employer-employee thing was out of the way.
At forty, I knew better.
At least she hadn’t told me to forget it. I figured she was still making up her mind about me. I didn’t say anything else until she’d shut off the engine, hoping she’d spend the time thinking about the heat between us.
I pushed open my door. “You sure you want to tackle this? Putting up shelves isn’t easy. Goes a lot better with two people, and I won’t be able to help much.”
“You won’t be helping at all,” she retorted, coming around the car.
I made a noncommittal noise. No point in mentioning that there would be parts of the job where two pairs of hands would be necessary.
She matched her pace to mine—which was slow. I didn’t limp anymore as long as I didn’t try to outrace a snail. “This is my chance to learn from an expert,” she said. “I’m not about to pass that up.”
“Well, the expert suggests we get red oak. It’s not easy to work with, but it should look great.” I paused, considering the state of my office. “Eventually.”
“It is a bit of a mess in there.”