A Home by the Sea (20 page)

J
ILLY PEERED AROUND
the doorway to the kitchen, shaking her head. She gestured to Caro and frowned. “Look at her. She's been in there for an hour. Last night she put up new wallpaper in the bedroom.”

Caro peeked over Jilly's shoulder and saw Grace bending over the sink, a bandanna tied around her hair. “What's she doing?”

“Cleaning the sink.
Again.
If it wasn't so pathetic, I could almost laugh. Manic behavior is supposed to be my specialty,” Jilly said quietly.

Caro frowned at Jilly. “And you think it's funny? What are we going to do? We can't let her go on like this. Now she's scrubbing the sink with a manicure brush.”

“I was going to give her five more minutes. I just needed a good clear memory so that I can toss it back in her face next month, when she calls
me
obsessive.” Jilly smiled guiltily. “I was going to stop her, okay? She's a little crazy because the Flower Guy is coming. I've got a hunch that this is the one.” Jilly squared her shoulders. “Come on. Let's go stage a cleaning intervention.”

They walked into the kitchen together. “You with the manicure brush. Step away from the sink,” Jilly ordered.

“What?” Grace stood up, rubbing her back. “Why are you staring at me like that? I'm just doing a little cleaning.”

“A little?” Jilly grabbed a coat from the table and tossed it to Grace. “You're cleaning the sink with a manicure brush. Get a grip, Lindstrom. This isn't a home makeover show. If the guy is half the man you think he is, he won't notice anything, not the peeling wallpaper, not the chipped floors. All he's going to be looking at is you.”

“But—”

“But we're going for a walk on the beach. Get your coat on.” Shaking her head, Jilly wrestled the manicure brush from Grace's dirty fingers. “And this thing is going right into the garbage.”

 

“Y
OU HAVE THE
coffee, right? And those chocolate croissants?”

Grace stared around her at the pristine kitchen. It had been a crazy week, but the house was finally beginning to take shape. A bouquet of roses gleamed in a crystal vase on the counter, a recent gift from Noah. Toile curtains hung at the little window. Her fingernails were chipped and her hands were a mess of cuts, but the house radiated with life.

Good thing for it, too. Noah was due in five hours.

“Yeah, yeah. Coffee's in here. Croissants are proofing.” Jilly hitched one hip against the table, her eyes narrowed. “When are you going to get cleaned up? I suggest a nice long bath in those perfumed salts that Caro is always waving around.”

“I have a few more little things to finish here.”

Jilly stared grimly at her friend. “It was funny at first. I enjoyed having ammunition against you in the future. But this is unnatural. You're not like this. You don't obsess. You don't brood and over-react. That's strictly
my
department. And no more coffee.” Jilly intercepted her cup. “You're starting to twitch.”

“I am completely under control,” Grace said loftily. “Now if you would kindly leave, I would like to finish. That grout behind the faucet needs another scrubbing.”

The front doorbell rang. “If that's a door-to-door salesman, I'm going to make him regret his choice of profession.” Jilly stalked to the front room and peeked through the side window. She cleared her throat and looked again.

“What's wrong? Who is it?”

“No one that I ever saw before.” Jilly gave a low whistle. “Trust me, you don't forget a face like that. Or a body like that one.”

The doorbell rang again, but Jilly still didn't answer it. She turned around slowly. “Change of schedule. Unless I'm very mistaken, that's your Flower Guy out there on the porch.”

Grace's heart stumbled. She felt as if she was glued to the floor. Then she remembered Jilly's delight in practical jokes. “Very funny. You're a real scream today.”

Jilly gave a little shrug and then shot another look outside. “Definitely one great-looking man out there.”

“Honestly, Jilly.”

The doorbell rang again. Grace blew out a little breath and ran a hand through her hair. “This isn't funny.”

Jilly went for the door, and then everything happened at once. Grace tried to straighten her old sweatshirt—and Duffy galloped straight between her feet, barking at the tall stranger who threatened his household. In the rush, Grace lost her footing and stumbled forward.

Her hands met soft black wool, stretched taut over Noah's hard shoulders. His arms closed around her, tightening, pulling her against him.

Safety.

Home.

“Noah,” she rasped. “You're—early.” The scent of leather and some kind of citrus with a hint of the sea wind clung to his hair. She gave in to blind instinct, leaning closer, hoarding each impression, afraid to miss anything.

Afraid to believe that he was finally, truly here.

She gave a reckless laugh as he lifted her higher, swinging her up against his chest and carrying her
across the room to deposit her in the big wing chair by the window.

She couldn't take her eyes off him. Laughter lit his face, along with satisfaction and something that might have been downright mischief. A woman could get hooked on that combination, Grace thought. A woman could learn to depend on those strong arms and on the husky, infectious way he laughed.

But she was a mess. She hadn't changed and her hands were streaked with dirt. All her careful plans were going up in smoke, and it wasn't fair.

“I was cleaning.” She tried to pull free, her face flushed. “My hair is a nightmare—” Grace touched his face wonderingly. “You're here. You weren't supposed to be here until seven.”

“I got an earlier flight.” He picked a piece of string out of her hair, smiling slightly. “I should have called.”

“No—I'm glad.” Grace was staring at his mouth, struck by a wave of heat. “It's just—I have a new dress. Shoes. I was going to soak in bubbles. Do my nails.” She swallowed as his hand opened over her waist.

She closed her eyes, wanting more.

Wanting to touch him now. Without even thinking, she leaned in, her fingers tightening on his chest.

“Well then.” Behind them Jilly cleared her throat. The front door opened. “I'm going out for a few
hours. There are fresh sheets on the bed on the third floor. The rug is thin, but the view will stop your heart. There's coffee in a thermos and quiche in the refrigerator. If anyone's interested.”

Cold wind rushed in, playing through the room, rich with the sound and smell of pine trees, wind and the sea. Duffy barked wildly.

And then Jilly was gone.

Grace looked up into Noah's eyes, her heart pounding. She touched his mouth and his chin and the curve of his eyebrow. “It's not fair. I wanted everything to be ready. All those plans.” She felt his hand tighten around hers. “I've got dirt up to my elbows, and I'm wearing this stupid, awful sweatshirt, and I wanted to be elegant and sleek and so beautiful you couldn't take your eyes off me,” she whispered. “I had it all p-planned.”

“I can't,” Noah said roughly. “And you are.”

“No.” She pulled free, digging at her hair. “It will only take me a few minutes.” She started for the stairs. It was all supposed to be so different. So smooth and effortless. Just like in her dreams.

And then she stopped. What was she doing?

She turned around slowly. “I'm an idiot. It doesn't have to be perfect, does it?” She took a long breath and looked at him, really seeing him for the first time.

Seeing the cut just above his eyebrow, not quite healed. Seeing the humor in his eyes and the need he wasn't afraid to show. “Jilly was right.” She took a
deep breath and walked down the stairs, straight into his arms, resting her head against his chest. “Those things don't matter.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Oh, Noah. I missed you. I missed this.”

“Me, too.” His arms tightened. Callused fingers opened against her waist. He pulled the bandanna away and let it fall so that her hair tumbled around her shoulders. “And just for the record, I love your hair.”

Grace looked up and kissed the edge of his mouth. “Welcome to Harbor House.” She traced his cheek, seeing the lines on his forehead. “You're tired. When did you last sleep?”

“Last night.”

“The truth.”

He shrugged. “Can't remember. An hour on the plane, I think. It's been a crazy week.”

How hard had he worked to clear his schedule and make this time for them? she thought guiltily, knowing he would never admit it. Grace kissed his mouth again, lingering. “You're going to sleep.”

“I'll be fine.”

She shook her head, sliding her arm through his. “Upstairs. Big bed with cool white sheets. Down comforter. We have all the time in the world.”

Noah tried to stifle a yawn. “I don't need—”

“Stop arguing.” They walked slowly up the stairs, arm in arm.

No haste. Tender and somehow familiar. As if they had done this before. He kissed the nape of her
neck and she sighed with a sharp swirl of desire. She thought about him and that soft bed.

“Just for an hour. Wake me up.”

“Absolutely.” Grace had no intention of waking him. At the top of the stairs she opened the door and folded back the down comforter. “I'll be here.”

“I was supposed to sweep you off your feet with roses.” Noah sank down on the bed and Grace saw the way he rubbed his right shoulder. “You were supposed to be enchanted.”

She pushed him down, one hand to his chest. Pulled off his shoes, watching the tension begin to leave his eyes. “You did. And I am. Now close your eyes and rest.”

 

S
HE HAD A QUICK SHOWER
to remove the day's grime, smoothed her skin with the lotion she had kept just for him. Then she tugged on a soft knit gown and a matching robe and sat down in the chair beside the bed. And she watched him sleep.

Just watched.

Seeing the single light from the hall glint on his hair. Seeing the way his chest rose and fell, his restless fingers opening to move on the quilt.

All the little details stored away. Whatever happened, she would have this. As shadows changed, growing into twilight and then night, she drowsed. Finally, she slipped off her robe and climbed in beside him, smiling to feel his fingers slide around
her, pulling her into the curve of his body, his mouth gently nuzzling her hair.

As if they had always slept this way.

F
IRE REACHED OUT
in an explosive inferno.

Smoking oil and burning metal surrounded him.

Noah came awake in a rush, dragged in a shuddering breath—and knew in the same moment that it was only a dream.

There was no IED in his hands, clicking down to lethal zero.

A different kind of danger lay in his hands. Smooth skin. A perfect curve of hip and thigh. He whispered her name, let his breath out slowly.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Exhaustion had caught up with both of them at the worst possible moment, he thought.

And yet it was just as it should be. Expectations changed, but not the dreams or feelings beneath. He touched Grace's chipped nails and the welts on her hands, signs of how much work she had done. He already knew desire, knew the hot stab of need, but now he was overwhelmed by a sharp wave of tenderness.

He eased off the bed, pulled on a shirt and his
jeans. He straightened the quilt over Grace and then headed downstairs.

First coffee.

Then he planned to have a look around.

 

H
E WAS UP ON A CHAIR
, examining the back of the coffee machine when feet padded across the floor. A tall woman in gray sweats stared up at him, a hand on her hip. “Something wrong?”

“Just checking some wires. I heard a noisy humming behind the back somewhere.”

“Nothing was burning, I hope.” Jilly stared at the counter outlet, frowning. “This house is pretty old.”

A big white puppy raced through the door and barked loudly at Noah. “It's okay, Duffy. He's a good guy.” The woman studied Noah. “I hope.”

“Nice dog. Duffy, is it?” Noah reached out a hand slowly and let the dog smell him thoroughly. “And everything looked fine. A spoon was wedged under the back feet. It vibrated whenever the heating element came on.”

“No kidding. A spoon? I never could figure out what was making the noise.”

Noah stepped off the chair and held out his hand. “Noah McLeod. You must be Jilly. We didn't really get introduced earlier.”

“You were busy with more important things.” Jilly's eyes crinkled. “Nice to meet you, Noah McLeod.” The big puppy danced around her bare feet. “Sit, Duffy.” She smiled in satisfaction when
the dog dropped into position as ordered. “Good baby,” she crooned. “So where's Grace?”

“Exhausted. Let her rest.” Noah ran a hand along the freshly polished counter, studying the room. “Great house. Nice crown molding along the doorways. Grace told me you're going to renovate it for a yarn store and café. How old is it exactly?”

“Eighty-two years, the papers say. I've been doing some research in the old newspaper archives. If I can find a president or a movie star who stayed here, I figure we'll be in clover.” She leaned against the doorway. “You know anything about renovations?”

“Some. My brother and I did an overhaul on his house last year. I have some experience in wiring and electricity,” he added casually. “I thought I would look around while Grace slept. Unless you'd rather I didn't.”

“Be my guest. Poke all you like.” Looking thoughtful, Jilly pulled some dog food down for Duffy and filled his bowl. “Wiring and electricity,” she murmured, scratching Duffy's head. She started to say something else, then shook her head. “Just don't go in that back room. The door is locked because there's a hole in the floor. Grace fell in there.”

Noah's eyes narrowed. “How bad?”

“Some bruises and a cut. It could have been worse. Now the rule is no working here alone.”

Noah didn't like the sound of any of this. “Is the house structurally sound? What does your building contractor say?”

“No problems in that area. There was a particular section of floor that was never properly joined. That was the problem.”

“I see.” Not exactly reassured, Noah stared up at the ceiling, wondering what other surprises the house had in store. “Sorry if that sounded rude. When I helped my brother, we kept turning up all kinds of building problems. Old houses can be dangerous.”

“Not this one. The contractor checked everything out. We have all the reports, a time frame for work and money budgeted for his repairs.”

“That's a good plan.” The coffee machine light came on. “I filled the machine. Caffeine withdrawal.” Noah gave a sheepish laugh. “Like a cup?”

“Sure.” Pleased, Jilly sat back and watched him prowl the kitchen, enjoying the sight of a man who knew what he was doing.

A man in worn, thigh-hugging jeans with probably the best pair of biceps she had ever seen.

She coughed and forced away the thought.

Definitely time to go.

“Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll take mine to go, thanks. Duffy and I have big plans for the night. You can tell Grace I'm dropping by the hospital to see her grandfather, so she shouldn't worry about him. I'll call her if anything's new. After that we're going to visit a friend in Portland. Make her eat. She's been working too hard, eating too little.” She took the cup from Noah, poured it into a travel mug and gave a
little wave. “Have fun. The house is all yours. Tell Grace the chocolate croissants are in the fridge.”

She gave a wicked little grin. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

 

A
N INTERESTING WOMAN
, Noah thought. Scrappy and stubborn, she would be an unshakable ally and friend. He was glad that Grace had a friend like Jilly.

He was thinking about the old house, considering possible problems, when he heard the scuff of bare feet on the stairs. He had a faint warning in the brush of a light perfume, gardenia and citrus. Then he turned and saw Grace blinking at him from the doorway, her eyes dazed with sleep, her body wrapped in a long blue knit robe with a blue satin belt.

One look and the desire roared into angry over-drive, slamming him in the chest until it was hard not to wince. Somehow he managed to stay calm, pulling down another cup for coffee and searching out sugar, milk and a spoon for her.

Anything so he didn't have to look at her sleepy, vulnerable eyes and the soft mouth he was aching to kiss.

“I fell asleep.” She stifled a yawn, half irritated and half embarrassed. “You should have wakened me.”

“You were out for the count. I got my second wind and came down to look around. It's a great house.”

She ran a hand through the sexy disorder of her hair and smiled, looking just a little dreamy. “It is, isn't it? Wonderful old molding and views that go on for miles. It will be amazing when all the work is done.”

He nodded. “Your friend Jilly made chocolate croissants. I put them on the counter while the oven is heating.”

Grace blinked at him. Color swirled through her cheeks. “This is strange, having you here talking about the oven and croissants. Very good,” she said quickly, “but strange. I could get used to it.”

He could get used to it, too, Noah thought. He wanted to see her like this, smiling and sleepy, for the rest of his life. “Sit down and have something to drink. I'll put the croissants in the oven.”

She wandered to the table, added milk to her coffee and then frowned. “Where is Jilly?”

“She's visiting a friend in Portland. She said to tell you she is stopping to see your grandfather and will call you later.” Noah slid the croissants into the oven, then turned back. “So we've got the house all to ourselves, it seems.”

“So it seems.” Grace toyed with her coffee, added more milk, then toyed with the cup again.

“Sit down and relax.”

When she started to pull out a chair, Noah caught her hand. “Here,” he said, drawing her down onto his lap with a quick tug. “Tell me what happened when you fell,” he said quietly.

“Did Jilly tell you about that?” Grace fidgeted, avoiding his eyes. “It worked out okay. We closed off the room.”

“It could have been worse. Promise me you'll be careful.”

Her eyes darkened at the sound in his voice. More of that enchanting color swirled through her cheeks. Noah was shocked at a sudden urge to rip away that blue belt and see how she looked underneath. He had dreamed about it for a few centuries already.

Because he was losing the battle, he focused on feeding her one of the strawberries from the refrigerator. “I—thank you.”

“Have another. She also said you aren't eating enough.”

“I'm eating fine.” She stopped to take another strawberry he held to her mouth. In the process, sweet juice spilled between her teeth, darkening her lips.

Noah couldn't take his eyes away, brushing the spot slowly with his thumb. He drew the sweet juice into his own mouth.

A fresh wave of color flamed through her face. Noah realized she had to feel the effect she was having on him. Every time her hips moved, the brush of her body made him harder.

“Can I get you something else? I saw bottled water in the fridge. Some kind of juice—”

“Nothing.” Her voice was husky. She seemed to
be staring at his mouth. “I was going to feed you an amazing meal, then sit with you by the fire and find out everything that's been happening. About the kittens, about Ivan. About your parents and your job. But the whole time I was sleeping, I felt your arms around me. And I realized how much I wanted them around me again, Noah. Upstairs. Under that big down quilt.” She gave a soft laugh. “I can't believe I'm trying to seduce you up to bed.”

She was doing a very successful job of it, he thought. His body was responding completely.

“You're working too hard. You're worrying too much.” He ran his hand along her ankle and up her leg. “Tomorrow you can tell me how I can help. But tonight…I'm happy to be seduced.”

 

G
RACE WAS TOO BUSY
looking into those dark, intense eyes to hear him at first. Too busy thinking how good it felt to have his arms around her.

She had learned something in the weeks since she had last seen him. She had come to understand that life had its own currents and timetables. Sometimes life could know what you wanted and needed even though it was still a mystery to you.

When his hand brushed a drop of strawberry pulp from her lip, she felt something pull loose inside her, freeing her from her old rules and old cautions.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle, then the sensitive palm. Time seemed to slow. The moment trembled between them, alive
with possibilities. But how did you know you were making the right choice, seeing the real person and not the one you wanted to be there? You didn't.

The answer was just that simple. You took a deep breath and opened your arms to all that made you feel alive. That's what her grandmother would have told her.

You had to start somewhere. Otherwise you lived half a life, always watching from the sidelines, never jumping in yourself.

“So a woman could seduce you?” she said huskily.

“The right woman.” He traced her cheek. “A woman who would climb into a Dumpster in a snowstorm to rescue a lost cat. A woman who isn't afraid to take a risk when she follows a dream.”

She looked up slowly. Savoring the hard lines of his face. The keen, brooding eyes.

The strong, expressive mouth.

She closed her eyes as his lips brushed the curve of her wrist. “I was lost when I saw you in that alley.” Noah gave her a slow, heart-stopping smile, and Grace felt her breath catch. How could one smile do that to a person?

“I think—”

“Don't.” Noah kissed the curve of her forehead. “Don't think, Grace. Tonight, just close your eyes and let me touch you. Feel all the things that my hands will whisper. Listen to the dreams and the promises.” Slowly he traced the arch of her lip.
“Thinking won't get us where we need to go, but this will.”

He seduced her with a slow, hot kiss. He wooed her deepest fantasies, showing her his own. Never hurrying. Never pushing. Only offering.

He was a brave man. A complex man, Grace thought. A man who would never be easily read or quickly understood. With a man like this you could throw your heart out the window without a thought. A man like this would catch it and keep it safe.

One night, she thought.

She realized that her choice had already been made, had truly been made for days. Trusting Noah was the easiest thing she had ever done. And she was brave enough—or stubborn enough—to take all that he offered.

She whispered his name and brought her mouth to his. Silence hung heavy between them. Then she took a slow breath. “Who's seducing whom here?”

“So far it's neck and neck,” he said hoarsely.

Wind hissed and growled up from the sea, rattling the windows and the eaves. Noah didn't seem to notice. His breath was thick as his hands moved to the belt of her robe.

“I was going to be civilized and give us both more time.” His hand slid under her hair, massaging her neck. He bit the curve of her earlobe gently. “But when I touch you, I forget about being civilized.”

“Civilization can be highly overrated.”

Her eyelids fluttered as his lips brushed the warm hollow behind her ear.

“This is going to get hot fast.” He kissed her eyelids, one after the other, then took slow possession of her mouth again. Slow and rough, he whispered how many ways he loved her and how he meant to show her all of them tonight, while the storm whipped the harbor.

Grace swam through the current of his words. Like a dreamer, she dove into the depths of his voice, following sweet-rough waves of whispered emotion.

They started at the bottom of the stairs, mouths searching, both a little drunk as skin met skin in swift shocks of discovery. At the top of the landing, Grace yanked his shirt free, not caring that she tore off two buttons in the process. She sighed when she ran her hands over his flat waist.

It was more than she had imagined, feeling him this way. She seemed to be melting right out of her body, nerve to his nerve, every inch alive and on fire with wanting. And they hadn't even reached the second floor yet.