A Baby in the Bargain (4 page)

He asked if she wanted a second latte but when Jani declined he said, “I should probably get going. I have paperwork to do yet tonight.”

Why did it sound as if he might be reluctant to end this? Jani wondered. It certainly didn’t
seem
as if he were having a good time with her.

Maybe he just wanted to put off working more tonight.

He stood up and took their empty cups to throw in the trash, leaving Jani with confirmation that he did, indeed, have manners.

And an incredibly good rear end that came into view when he bent over to pick up a package of napkins one of the teenage employees dropped when he walked by carrying more of them than he could balance.

But admiring Gideon Thatcher’s derriere was totally uncalled for and when Jani realized that was what she was doing, she stood, too, and began to put on her coat.

Her gaze remained on Gideon, though, even after he was standing straight and tall again. As she admired the drape of his suit coat from those expansive shoulders to his narrow waist and hips, she somehow kept missing the opening of her second coat sleeve.

She was still fumbling with it as he got back to the table and he gave her an assist, holding her coat up to make the armhole more accessible.

“Thanks,” she said for the second time, ultra-aware of his arm stretched across her back.

It wasn’t as if he were putting his arm
around
her, she told herself.

It just sort of felt that way.

And sent a little tingle through her that she had no control over. That was silly. And uncalled for.

And still somehow made her feel all warm inside...

Which was just plain crazy.

Then he took his arm away and it was even crazier that she was sorry it was gone.

“So, looking at the building for the community center,” she said to put things squarely back into the dominion of business.

“Right...” Gideon said, giving no indication that being near her had affected him the way it had affected her. “I’ll be in Lakeview all day tomorrow. I could meet you at the building I have in mind at...maybe, let’s say, four-thirty? Any earlier and I’m afraid I might keep you waiting again.”

“My schedule is light tomorrow. I can leave work early enough to get to Lakeview by four-thirty. Just send me the address.”

“I’ll do that,” he agreed as they headed for the coffee shop exit.

“Thanks for the latte,” Jani said, passing in front of him as he held the door open for her. “And I’m glad you decided to let us do this for Lakeview and for your great-grandfather.”

The frown that skittered across his handsome face made her wonder if, for just a few minutes, he’d forgotten who she was. And she was sorry she’d brought it back to mind.

His only acknowledgment of what she’d said was to raise that dented chin of his as he followed her outside.

She had the sense that he was tempted to walk her to the driver’s side of her car when he hesitated to go to his own. But apparently he resisted the urge because as Jani went to her sedan, he walked in front of it to his own vehicle.

While Jani unlocked her door he stood with his back to his, watching her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she called across to him.

“Right. Tomorrow,” he confirmed, waiting for her to get in before he turned to his own car.

Sitting in her driver’s seat, Jani got her second glimpse of his rear end through her passenger window as he leaned over to unlock his door.

But she quickly turned her head to face forward when he got in so he wouldn’t catch her ogling him.

As she started her engine and pulled out of the parking spot, she angled her eyes in the direction of her rearview mirror so he wouldn’t know she was looking—even though she was. She just couldn’t stop herself from getting every last glimpse of him.

The thought of seeing him again the next day excited her a little.

Maybe even more than a little.

In fact, she was already looking forward to it as if it were the highlight of the day to come.

And wondering if she should wear the formfitting fuchsia dress that she usually considered too tight and way, way too short for the office...

Chapter Four

T
he site Gideon had in mind for the community center was Lakeview’s old city and county building. It was a plain, three-story yellow-brick structure with boards over several windows, grounds that were all weeds and a cracked and pitted parking lot.

Jani didn’t have any trouble finding it on Wednesday afternoon—it was on the same road that led to the Camden warehouses and factories. She must have driven past it on the few occasions she’d been to the facilities in Lakeview. She just hadn’t taken any notice.

As she drove up, what initially struck her was that Gideon hadn’t been kidding about it needing a lot of work. But then she spotted the parking lot, Gideon’s sports car and Gideon himself, and everything else flew out of her mind.

Wearing tan slacks and a short leather jacket over a cocoa-colored shirt, he was half sitting, half leaning on the hood of his car. His long legs were stretched far out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. His arms were locked over his chest, his hair was slightly windblown. And had the backdrop been more scenic, it could have been an ad in
GQ
for the car or the clothes. Or the man himself. He looked dashing with just a hint of bad boy thrown in to make it interesting.

That’s the picture that should be on his website,
Jani thought as she parked alongside of him and tried to get her pulse to stop racing. She reminded herself that this was not a social visit, that Gideon Thatcher reviled her and her family and that she had way too much on her own personal agenda to be distracted by him. Gideon Thatcher was just one little compartment that she had to deal with in the whole spectrum of things.

But that first glimpse of him made it difficult to recall that anything else existed. In her life, on her agenda or in any other way.

Especially when her heart was beating at such an accelerated pace.

She took a deep breath as she turned off the ignition and ordered herself to just calm down.

“Am I late?” she asked when she got out of her car, quickly slipping on the hip-length jacket she hadn’t wanted to wear while she was driving.

Gideon shoved off his hood. “No, I wanted to get here ahead of you to turn on some power, maybe get a little heat going in there so it wouldn’t be too miserable to walk around.” His eyes dropped to where her legs were generously displayed below the short hem of her fuchsia dress. “Looks like it’s a good thing I did or you might have frozen to death.”

It sounded as if he were trying to be critical but somehow missed the boat. Maybe because his gaze lingered on her legs and Jani recognized appreciation when she saw it.

Then he raised his green eyes to her face and said, “Be warned, it isn’t a pretty sight inside. Looks like kids have broken in and partied, and there’s been some wildlife activity, too—mice, a raccoon, maybe, and I found a dead squirrel on the third floor. I threw an old newspaper over it, but in case you’re inclined to touch anything, my advice is not to.”

Jani held up her hands, palms out, then made a show of putting them in the pockets of her jacket. “Noted,” she announced.

He nodded in the direction of her three-inch heels. “And watch your step in those things—there are cracks in the cement all around here.”

Again the words were purely precautionary but a split-second lingering of his gaze told her that he wasn’t otherwise opposed to the black suede shoes that accentuated her ankles and calves.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m so used to heels I could climb Mount Kilimanjaro in them,” she assured him.

Just then her heel caught in a crumbling spot in the parking lot, and she would have gone down had Gideon not grabbed her arm in the steadying grip of one big hand.

“Okay, maybe not,” she said with an embarrassed laugh, hating that she seemed to be such a klutz around this man.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said, trying to ignore how much she liked having his hand on her arm. And how much she didn’t like it when he took it away. “I’ll just be more careful.” Maybe by watching where she was going instead of looking at him...

He must not have trusted her, though, because he stayed close, walking beside and slightly behind her as they went up to the old building, as if he were there to catch her should she lose her footing again.

He really does think I’m clumsy....

It wasn’t an image she wanted to project so she was extra cautious climbing the steps to the building.

When they reached the wide double doors, Gideon opened one of them and waited for her to go in before following. It was warmer inside than out but not by much, and there was only the dim glow of light shining through aged and dusty globes. But one quick glance around made Jani think that was a blessing—she didn’t really want to be able to see too many details.

Gideon launched into tour-guide mode, pointing out the good and the bad, outlining what he had in mind for room after room, floor after floor of the musty-smelling building.

It was actually a little creepy to be there and it occurred to Jani that had she not been with Gideon, she might have been more unnerved by the dusty, cobweb-laced, littered and decaying old place. But there was something about his presence that made her feel less uneasy.

Having once been Lakeview’s only courtroom, the third floor was one large open space. When they arrived there, Gideon warned her around the sheet of newspaper hiding the dead squirrel and led her to the windows that weren’t broken and boarded up. The glass in them was dirty and sometimes cracked, but from that height they could look down on the surrounding area.

After talking about the need to completely dig up the parking lot and repave it, Gideon pointed out the best positioning for the sports fields and the play park on the grounds below.

Jani asked a few questions but mainly let Gideon talk, basking in the sound of his deep, deep voice, in the fact that when he was talking about his work, his plans, all animosity, all suspicion of her, seemed to fall away. And liking that too much, too.

When the tour was complete, he summed things up for her as they descended the multiple flights of stairs to get back to where they’d begun. It was a daunting list that lost Jani somewhere between new wiring and bringing everything up to current codes.

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be easier—and cheaper—to just build a new facility?” she asked as they stepped off the last stair and a piece of marble dropped to the floor behind them.

“Then you’d have demolition expenses and construction costs that you won’t have here,” Gideon explained. “Besides, the building itself has history for Lakeview—shouldn’t a gift
to
the community carry some meaning
for
the community?”

“The city and county building...” Jani mused rather than answering his question because she had the feeling that there was some hidden meaning in this for Gideon, too. “Was this where your great-grandfather’s office was when he was mayor?”

“As a matter of fact it was,” Gideon confirmed. “It was something he was proud of—he was king of the hill here.”

“Then you’re right, this is the building that should carry his name,” she agreed.

“Speaking of which...” Gideon said, as if she’d provided him with an opening he’d been waiting for her to provide. “I’m going to need to clear that name before Lakeview will want it on anything.”

That was a glitch that Jani hadn’t expected.

But before she could think of what to say, Gideon told her to wait there while he went down to the boiler room to switch off the breakers and shut the building down again.

He turned and left.

And just when Jani should have been thinking about this new complication, she instead found herself watching him go—specifically, gawking at his rear end. His suit coat had camouflaged it somewhat the night before, but today, with his jacket barely brushing his waist, she had a clear view of his backside. And oh, but it was a fabulous derriere accentuated perfectly in a pair of well-made pants!

This whole project would have been much simpler if the guy just wasn’t so distractingly handsome and well built, she thought once he was out of sight and she got hold of herself again.

Then the building went dark, and although Jani hadn’t realized there was any sound, it also went silent, leaving the echo of Gideon’s steps to announce his return even before he rejoined her at the door.

He held one of the double panels open for her, and Jani stepped out into the pink blush of dusk beginning to fall.

She hadn’t noticed until then that she’d been breathing shallowly to avoid the various smells of the old building and whatever was decaying inside of it, but once outside, she took a deep breath. And discovered that the air was rich with the aroma of fresh donuts.

“It definitely smells better out here!” she said.

“Donut shop across the street,” Gideon responded, aiming a long index finger in the direction of a strip mall. “Most of your employees at the factories and the warehouses pass by here on their way to and from work—I was in the donut shop yesterday and the owner is talkative. He told me that he bakes fresh for the morning arrivals and again for quitting time, and made sure that he had a drive-through so commuters can get their donut fix without even leaving their cars. See the line already backing up along the side...” He pointed at the busy drive-through window. “And his donuts are great,” he added as he slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket.

“Since you bought last night, how about I treat to donuts now and you can tell me more about clearing your great-grandfather’s name,” Jani suggested, not eager to get into the subject, but knowing she was going to have to and wanting to get it over with. And thinking that donuts could only help.

“Okay,” Gideon said without skipping a beat. “Walk or drive?”

“It’s just across the street. I think—if I really work at it—that I can make it without falling on my face if we walk,” she said, joking about her own previous displays of gracelessness.

And Gideon Thatcher cracked the slightest of smiles.

Which thrilled Jani more than she could understand. And—unreasonable as it might have been—made spilling her purse, and fumbling to get her coat on at the coffee shop the night before, and nearly falling in the parking lot earlier, all worth it.

“Let’s give it a shot then,” he said as if he doubted her abilities and they set off across the cracked and crumbling cement walkway that led from the building’s entrance to the road.

They made it to the donut shop without incident. The owner greeted Gideon as if he were an old friend and announced that today’s donuts and coffee were on the house.

Then he left Jani and Gideon alone to take their coffee and donuts to a corner booth where they both removed their coats.

As Jani slipped into her side of the booth she could see that Gideon was having a good long look at the fuchsia dress that hugged her every curve like a wetsuit. Unless she was mistaken, he seemed to have some trouble taking his eyes off of her.

He managed, though, by concentrating on drinking his steaming coffee.

Still, Jani was happy that she’d opted for the dress and the shoes today, and she fought a smile as she tasted the donut.

It was crispy on the outside, light and cakey on the inside, glazed with a hint of orange—one bite and Jani rhapsodized over the luscious delight.

Gideon agreed that his was delectable, too, before he got down to the business at hand.

“Lakeview has a monthly newspaper that’s doing an article next month—a past and present piece—on me and my great-grandfather. It’s been scheduled since before you showed up with your park idea and I’ve already met with the reporter a few times. The part on my great-grandfather will make it clear that what he promised Lakeview all those years ago, he promised in good faith, that he was
not
in H. J. Camden’s pocket.”

“Will the article be smearing
my
great-grandfather’s name in the process?” Jani asked, wondering if he was giving her a heads-up.

“That isn’t the slant, no. The paper doesn’t want to be sued by the Camdens, that’s for sure. And while no one is happy that Lakeview’s economy ended up depending on your factories and warehouses, that’s still how it is, and no one wants to bite the hand that feeds it, either. It’ll be the plain-and-simple facts that Franklin Thatcher believed what he said, what he promised his constituents. That he’d met with the developers H. J. Camden was supposedly bringing in, he saw the plans and proposals with his own eyes. That everything he promised in return for allowing those warehouses and factories to be built, he firmly believed would be taken care of, and that it was completely out of his hands when it wasn’t.”

“Okay...” Jani said with reservation, wondering if Gideon was merely giving her information or if he wanted something from her.

Then she found out.

“But I’m thinking that a quote from you that confirms that what my great-grandfather did, he did in all honesty, would help exonerate him. A from-the-horse’s-mouth kind of thing—”

“Except that the
horse—
H.J.—died in 1996, so it would only be coming from the descendant of the horse.”

“Still, confirmation lends credence. Especially a quote from a Camden that confirms that to the best of Franklin Thatcher’s knowledge, the factories and warehouses were supposed to be followed by the rest of the development H. J. Camden promised.”

“I can confirm that because it was true,” Jani said without hesitation.

Once again that seemed to raise some suspicion in Gideon’s green eyes. “You’re admitting that H.J. duped my great-grandfather?”

Jani shook her head. “It was true that your great-grandfather believed that development would follow the warehouses and factories because it
was
H.J.’s plan,” Jani said.

“Uh-huh, and sometime when I’m ready to hear it, you’re going to tell me about that,” Gideon said facetiously, reiterating what she’d said to him before.

“Right.” But she could see that he wasn’t receptive to hearing it yet.

“This isn’t an opportunity for you to win H. J. Camden points,” he warned. “The writer is a friend of mine, so if you try to slip in a single word to make H.J. look good or to make my great-grandfather take any of the fall—”