Hed offered to call a mechanic for her, hadnt he? Brad thought, getting riled up again at the memory. Hed stood there debating with her for ten minutes, thus ensuring that whatever she did they would both be late to the Peak.
And when she grudgingly accepted the ride finally, she spent every minute of it in an ice-cold funk.
He was absolutely crazy about her.
“Sick
,” he muttered as he turned the corner to her street. “Youre a sick man, Vane.”
Her little house sat tidily back from the road on a neat stamp of lawn. Shed planted fall flowers along the sunny left side. The house itself was a cheerful yellow with bright white trim. A boys red bike lay on its side in the front yard, reminding him that she had a son hed yet to catch sight of.
Brad pulled his new Mercedes behind her decade-old hatchback.
He walked back to the cargo area and hauled out the gift he hoped would turn the tide in his favor.
He carted it to the front door, then caught himself running a nervous hand through his hair.
Women never made him nervous.
Annoyed with himself, he knocked briskly.
It was the boy who opened it, and for the second time in his life, Brad found himself dazzled by a face. He looked like his mother—dark hair, tawny eyes, pretty, pointed features. The dark hair was mussed, the eyes cool with suspicion, but neither detracted a whit from the exotic good looks.
Brad had enough young cousins, assorted nieces and nephews, to be able to peg the kid at around eight or nine. Give him another ten years, Brad thought, and this one would have to beat the coeds off with a stick. “Simon, right?” Brad offered an Im-harmless-you-can-trust-me grin. “Im Brad Vane, a friend of your moms.” Sort of. “She around?”
“Yeah, shes around.” Though the boy gave Brad a very quick up-and-down glance, Brad had the certain sensation hed been studied carefully and thoroughly, and the jury was still out. “Yougotta wait out there, cause Im not allowed to let anybody in if I dont know who they are.”
“No problem.”
The door shut in his face. Like mother, like son, Brad thought, then heard the boy shout.
“Mom! Theres this guy at the door. He looks like a lawyer or something.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Brad mumbled and cast his eyes to heaven.
Moments later the door opened again.Zoes expression changed from puzzlement to surprise to mild irritation in three distinct stages.
“Oh. Its you. Um… is there something I can do for you?”
You could let me nibble my way up your neck to the back of your ear for a start, Brad thought, but kept his easy smile in place. “Dana was in the store this afternoon, picking up some supplies.”
“Yes. I know.” She tucked a dishcloth in the waistband of her jeans, let the tail hang down her hip. “Did she forget something?”
“Not exactly. I just thought you might be able to use this.” He lifted the gift hed leaned against the side of the house, then had the pleasure of seeing her blink in surprise an instant before she laughed.
Really laughed. He loved the sound of it, the way it danced over her face, into her eyes.
“You brought me a stepladder?”
“An essential tool for any home or business improvement project.”
“Yes, it is. I have one.” Obviously realizing how ungracious that sounded, she flushed and hurried on. “But its… old. And we can certainly use another. It was really thoughtful of you.”
“We ofHomeMakers appreciate your business. Where would you like me to put this?”
“Oh, well.” She glanced behind her, then seemed to sigh. “Why dont you just bring it in here? Ill figure that out later.” She stepped back, bumped into the boy who was hovering at her back. “Simon, this is Mr. Vane. Hes an old friend of Flynns.”
“He said he was a friend of yours.”