Every Vow She Breaks (12 page)

* * * *

Jed heaped a pile of lo mein onto his plate then slid the container across the table to Claire. “What does it say?”

She glanced up from the documents spread in front of her. Eyes wide, she pressed a hand to her chest and gulped air.

“Are you okay?” Shoving aside the mu shu pork, he laid a hand on her arm. “You’re scaring me a little.”

“I can’t believe it. Aunt Agatha left me her house.”

He reared back, thumping his head against the wall of the motor home. “Wow.”

“‘Wow’ doesn’t quite cover it. There’s some money, too.” Tears welled in her eyes. Pressing shaking fingers to her cheeks, she wiped them away. “Why would she do that? I hadn’t talked to her in fifteen years. Surely there was someone else more deserving.”

“You said she didn’t have any immediate family, that she was estranged from your father….”

“She sent back my letters. Why would she return them then leave me her home?”

He tapped the address label on the corner of the envelope. “Maybe the lawyer who mailed these papers will know.”

“I hope so.” Claire rested her head in her hands. “I feel awful. I should have made more of an effort to find out what happened to her.”

“How old were you when the letters were returned?”

“Nineteen. Actually, it was right around the time of my breakup with Ian. Between trying to stay on top of my studies and dealing with annulment proceedings, I was already overextended. Still, it’s no excuse for ignoring a lonely old woman.”

“You didn’t ignore her. She severed communication. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He held out a bag of egg rolls. “Eat. The food’s getting cold.”

“I don’t know if I can. There’s a huge knot of emotions tangled in my stomach. Part of me is thrilled about the house. The place is beyond cool, or at least it used to be. I’d be ecstatic if I didn’t feel so guilty. And sad.”

Jed picked up one cold hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay to be confused. Finding out your aunt died was a shock. Add to that the house—well, it’s a lot to process. We’ll figure it all out. Tomorrow. Right now, have some dinner.”

She let out a long sigh. “You’re right. I tend to obsess over things beyond my control, and there’s absolutely no point since I certainly can’t change the past.” Pulling her hand from his, she lifted the container of lo mein to scoop a helping onto her plate.

Claire was quiet throughout the meal. The pain in her eyes squeezed his heart. When she stopped pushing the food around her plate, he cleared the table and washed the few dishes. After rinsing out the sponge and tossing it next to the sink, he leaned against the short strip of counter and idly reached down to scratch Scoop’s ears when the dog pressed against his leg.

“Want to sit outside? I can build a fire.”

After a long pause, she glanced over at him. “I’m pretty tired. Do you mind if I pass?”

“Of course not.”

Her lips curved downward. “I’m not much fun this evening. Maybe you should have stayed at the Belly Up.”

“We’ve already been through this. I didn’t want to stay at the bar, and I don’t expect to be entertained, for crying out loud. You’re allowed to have an off night.”

Stepping forward, he pulled her up off the seat. With the pad of his thumb, he stroked her soft cheek as the honeysuckle scent of her shampoo invaded his senses. Warmth filled his chest before an arrow of heat zinged straight downward. Shifting, he tugged on his jeans to ease the ache. If she didn’t look so damned vulnerable…

“Why don’t you get into your pajamas then read or something. Want me to make you a cup of tea?” His hands moved to her shoulders to knead tense muscles. “Aren’t the ones that taste like bark and berries supposed to relax you?”

She smiled. “Tea and a book sounds like heaven.”

“I guess that would make me an angel. I can honestly say no one’s ever accused me of being angelic before.”

Her eyes drifted shut, and a little moan slipped through her lips. “Don’t stop. Your hands are magic. Maybe you are good for me, after all.”

He paused before continuing to massage the tight muscles. Her chin tilted down to rest against her chest as he stroked the back of her neck.

“Why would you think I’m not good for you?”

One shoulder moved in a tiny shrug. “You’re a lot of fun.”

“I won’t argue with that.” Taking her hand, he pulled her toward the bed and pushed her, face down, on top of the spread. Sitting beside her, he went to work along the length of her spine, thumbs moving down her backbone. “Doesn’t answer my question.”

She turned her head sideways on the pillow. “Maybe too fun.”

“How can anyone be too fun?”

“I’m thirty-four years old, which means I’ve had plenty of time to play. I told you once before I’m ready to settle down now.”

“You’re saying settling down and having fun don’t go together? Maybe you should reconsider your priorities.”

“They aren’t mutually exclusive—for me. With you, it’s a whole different story. I get the distinct impression
settling
isn’t in your genes.”

“So you’re looking for a boring guy.” He dug his fingers into her back.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry.” He went back to stroking gently and elicited another one of those moans that made him wonder if he should rethink the benefits of a more traditional future…. He shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, his thigh pressing against the length of hers. “You’re anything but boring, Claire. Honestly, I think you’re all wrong about what’ll make you happy.”

She rolled over and frowned up at him. “I’m not wrong. Since my breakup with Ross, the few involvements I’ve had have been casual. In each case, we both had some fun before going our separate ways with no regrets. Because I didn’t want to get hurt again, I’ve been pretty cautious. But—”

“Why does there always have to be a
but
?”

Her brows lowered. “Are you trying to annoy me?”

He held out his hands, regretting they weren’t still touching her, and smiled. “Now why would I do that?”

She rolled her eyes. “
Anyway
, fun is, well, fun, but it gets old after a while. I want stability, commitment, a home that doesn’t have wheels. You don’t.”

“My cabin is pretty damn permanent. It isn’t going anywhere.”

“No, but you aren’t in it. You’re extremely mobile.”

“I can’t argue with that either. However, you’re missing one big point. Isn’t your job all about travel? Going to some new, out-of-the-way location to take photographs for people who never make the time in their lives to visit these places in person?”

“Yes, which is why I want someplace—
someone
—stable to come home to between assignments. Is that unreasonable?”

“I suppose not.” He let out a sigh. “So, because I’m fun and like to explore new places,
exactly like you do
, you’ve determined I’m not good for you.”

“When you put it in those terms, I sound like a lunatic, but am I wrong?”

He stared long and hard into her beautiful blue eyes. She didn’t blink, didn’t look away. Not a hint of playfulness or humor crept into her gaze. She was dead serious.

For once, so was he. “I think you’re very wrong. I think we could have something good together if you’d let down your guard. We have caring and companionship and chemistry. Especially chemistry. Don’t dismiss all that just because I’m entertaining and unconventional.”

She sighed. “I’m not. I’m still here with you, aren’t I? Even though I know I should run far and fast to avoid another disastrous relationship, I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like you too much to walk away. But—and it’s a big but—I’m not stupid enough to think you’re going to change your lifestyle for me.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“Same place we’ve been. Here. Together. For now.”

“And afterward?”

“Maybe we’ll keep in touch, text each other, send an e-mail now and then.”

“Sounds awful.” After a moment of silence, he stood. “You’re tired and emotionally drained, so I’m not going to push tonight, but you should know I’m not giving up. I don’t quit when I want something.”

“Even if the
thing
you want gets hurt in the process?” Before he could answer she held up her hand. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jed.”

“I won’t. I’m a man of my word. Count on it.”

“I still can’t believe Aunt Agatha left me her home.” Claire leaned forward and clutched the dashboard as she and Jed bumped down the long, rutted driveway. Anticipation, along with more than a few nerves, fluttered in her chest as she waited for her first glimpse of the house. Hutchins, the lawyer, had warned her the place needed some work. Still, it was
hers
.

Jed glanced over and smiled then put his hand on her arm. “How many times are you going to say that?”

“Until I don’t have to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake.”

She’d expected the atmosphere between them to be awkward after everything she’d said the night before. It wasn’t. Another damned point in Jed’s favor. He didn’t brood or hold grudges. Make that two points. He’d whistled while he scrambled eggs for their breakfast then held her hand through a difficult call to her great-aunt’s lawyer. If she didn’t know better, she’d start believing he was as perfect inside as he appeared on the surface.

The SUV rounded a bend then jerked to a stop. She sat back in her seat and stared.

Jed spoke before she could find any words. “Wow, the place reminds me of something out of a horror movie. All it needs for atmosphere is bats circling instead of seagulls.”

Perched near the edge of the cliff, the weathered, gray shingled house was just as she remembered with its round tower and steeply pitched roof—until he shifted into gear and drove closer. Crumbling mortar and a few stray bricks lay in the weedy grass along the side of the building, and the porch was propped up with…

“Cinderblocks?” Claire’s grip on the dashboard tightened until her knuckles turned white. “What happened to the front steps?”

“Looks like someone ripped them out, probably intending to replace them. Maybe your great-aunt was planning a few repairs before she had the stroke and moved to a convalescent home.” He turned off the engine and set the parking brake.

Taking a deep breath, Claire opened the door to step down. Scoop scrambled out of the backseat and leaped through the opening. Nose pressed to the ground, he ran in circles, sniffing his new surroundings.

“A little work? If this is the lawyer’s idea of minor repairs, I’d hate to see major.” Her gaze scanned upward. “The roof doesn’t look too bad, but a bunch of the shingled siding is damaged. If those bricks are from the foundation…” She let out a long sigh. “Do you think the building is structurally sound?”

“I’ll have to take a closer look to answer that question. If you don’t want to hassle with repairs, you could always sell the place as is, though you’d probably make a larger profit after renovations. The view is unbelievable.”

Behind the house, choppy gray water stretched to the horizon in an unbroken vista. Overhead, seagulls swooped around the tall, brick chimney, their harsh cries an echo from her past. Down the coast, a fog horn blared mournfully as she breathed in the salt scented air.

“I don’t want to sell the house. I want to live here.”

His brows shot upward. “You’re kidding. The place is a wreck.”

“Good thing Aunt Agatha left me some cash. I’ll hire a good contractor. I’m sure Hutchins can recommend one.”

“I’ll check the place out first to see what needs to be done.”

She turned and stared. “How would you know about structural repairs? A few are obvious, but—”

“I worked construction for several years before I took over the camping retreat. I know enough to make sure you won’t get ripped off if you’re serious about restoring the place.”

“I’m serious.”

Skepticism darkened his eyes. “Let’s take a look inside. The house has been standing this long. I don’t think it’ll collapse around our ears during a walk-through.”

Taking her hand, he led the way across the sparse grass that had once been a beautiful lawn. Tail waving, Scoop trotted at his side. With a leap, the dog launched up onto the porch. Jed heaved himself up beside him then reached down to give her a hand. His warm palm closed over hers again as he tugged her up onto the wide plank flooring.

“The porch is solid. Looks like it was replaced not so long ago. Where’s the key?”

Curling still tingling fingers, she stuck her hand in her pocket. “There should be a lockbox on the door. The combination is six-three-one.”

He pushed the proper buttons then removed an old-fashioned brass key. The door creaked as he opened it wide on a rush of stale air.

Jed turned and smiled. “I’ll go first just in case there’re any…surprises.”

She paused on the threshold. Straight across the entry, stairs wound upward like something out of
Gone With the Wind
. She’d always loved that staircase. Her head jerked around as his words finally registered. “Surprises? What kind of surprises?”

“Weak floorboards. Rodents. Snakes. Spiders.”

Clasping her arms around her chest, Claire shuddered. “By all means, lead the way. I don’t mind mice, but a snake…ugh.”

“I remember. You weren’t fond of creepy-crawly things when you were younger.”

“I’m less fond of them now.” As they made their way into the place, she poked her head through the doorway on the left. Sheets covered a large flat surface and miscellaneous lumps. “This is the dining room. At least someone covered the furniture. I remember how shiny Aunt Agatha’s dining room table used to be. She went ballistic once when I set a cola can on it without using a coaster.”

Jed lifted a corner of the sheet. “Walnut. A little formal for my taste. This room doesn’t seem to need any major repairs. The wallpaper is pretty dingy, but you could remove it and paint to lighten things up in here. Maybe get rid of those heavy drapes and put in some blinds. The hardwood flooring is indestructible. All it needs is a good cleaning.”

She pulled Scoop away from a pile of mouse droppings in the corner. “Were you also an interior decorator?”