Heating Up (8 page)

“Harlee is a nice person and Darla is a doll. I always wondered why you weren't more friendly with those girls.”

“I guess I'm more of a homebody.” What she was, was shy.

After Paul died, she'd retreated into herself. It was easier than making up excuses to her friends about her zombie parents. In college, she'd put all her energy into her studies. Now, she supposed, she did it with real estate.

“I'm taking off to preview some properties before tomorrow.” Dana grabbed her purse and a folder containing the information about the places she wanted to check out.

“Do you plan to bring Ms. Confidentiality to the office?”

“I'll have to play it by ear. But if she wants to make an offer”—Dana crossed her fingers—“we'll have to come back here.”

“Good luck and call me if you need any help.”

“I will,” Dana said. “Thanks, Carol.”

She got in her car and headed for the backroads, where most of the properties were. Some of the parcels had been for sale a long time, and Dana wanted to reacquaint herself with them. Others, especially the real remote ones, she'd never had reason to view before. But Ms. Confidentiality had made it clear she wanted off the beaten track. Dana assumed she needed a refuge from being a celebrity and her recent scandal.

Just as she pulled up to the first place, her cell phone rang. It was the client, with a change of plans.

* * *

After breakfast Aidan went to Reno. Except for the airport, he hadn't seen much of the town but knew it was called the “Biggest Little City in the World.” He could kind of see why. It had just about everything, and legal gambling to boot. At some point he'd like to come back to check out the nightlife. For now, though, he just wanted to get his blackout shades, hit Costco, and get back to Nugget.

He found the Bed Bath & Beyond easily enough. Dana seemed to think they would have what he was looking for. Not for the first time, he wondered about the little scene he had witnessed between Dana and Griffin that morning. “Scene” was probably too strong a word for it. But there was something going on there. He could tell from Dana's body language. She'd been upset, yet had tried to put on a brave face. Aidan noticed she did that sometimes. With the fire, when he'd gotten to Tawny's house first, and then this morning with Griffin.

She was an odd little duck, that was for sure. He'd never seen someone get so hung up on trivial details.
Who's going to take out the trash
?
How should we sort the recyclables
?
Toilet seat up or down
? He was still waiting for the bathroom schedule. Despite it, he found her highly entertaining and incredibly self-sufficient. And it certainly didn't hurt that she was easy on the eyes.

Inside the store, he found the drapery aisle, and sure enough, they had exactly what he was looking for. He loaded a few shades into a cart and paid at the cash register. An hour later, he hit the highway back to Nugget, his truck filled with groceries. The scenery changed every few miles or so, from high desert to green forest. From his first visit, he'd felt an affinity for the land, so different from his native Midwest. His family was convinced he'd come to lick his wounds after the debacle with Sue. But for a long time he'd been thinking about change, about uprooting himself from a life that had become too predictable and staid.

At home, he put everything away and installed his shades, pulling them up and down to make sure they worked right. Closed, they cocooned the room in restful darkness. Yeah, he thought to himself, the place was definitely coming together.

After lunch he decided to get the remainder of his stuff from Sloane and Brady's, making the quick drive across town. His sister was home, sitting in the living room, reading a wedding magazine, when he got there.

“You all moved in?” She got up from the couch and began waving her hand in front of his face.

“What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Nothing.” Again with the crazy hand movements.

“Don't you have to work?” he asked.

“I'm graveyard tonight. Should I wear this?” She stuck her knuckle under his nose, and that was when he saw it. The ring.

Aidan let out a low whistle. “How much that set Brady back?”

“A lot. But I'm worth it.”

He grabbed her ring hand and dragged her to the French doors. “Let's see if it'll cut glass.”

“Unhand me, you freak.”

“Congratulations.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I'm the best man, you know? Other than getting the rock, how was Frisco?”

“If people around here ever heard you calling it Frisco, they'd gut you.” She plopped back down on the couch. “Frisco was fan-freaking-tastic. We stayed at the Theodore in the penthouse suite. Brady got his work done early so we could play. I loved it so much I was even considering having the wedding at the hotel. But now Brady and I are thinking we'll have it here, in Sierra Heights. Set up tables and a dance floor over the pool, string up twinkly lights, and open the rec room to the outside. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me. You pick a date?”

“We're playing around with September. It's a good month in California. . . warm and clear. We just have to make sure it's okay with the other residents.”

He mussed her hair like he used to do when she was just a pip-squeak. “Let me know and I'll get my tux out of storage.”

“Hey, Aidan?” She tugged him to the couch and pulled him down. “Are you okay with this weekend . . . with Sue getting married?”

“There's not a whole lot I can do about it.” She gave him a pointed look. “What?”

“It doesn't seem like you tried.”

“Of course I tried,” he said. “I asked her to come back, didn't I?”

“Did you go to her apartment and serenade her, get down on bended knee and beg? You didn't even fight for her, Aidan. You got in your truck and moved to California. And I have to wonder why.”

“You ever think that maybe I wasn't the one for her? We were together three years. She dates this guy all of six months and they're walking down the aisle.”

“Brady and I only knew each other for three months. Before us, he was like you, allergic to marriage. So maybe it's not marriage you're averse to; maybe she just wasn't the one for you, because I know you were the one for her. She loved you, Aidan. All she wanted was to be your wife and the mother of your children. But a woman can't wait forever.”

He didn't want to talk about this anymore. “I've gotta go.”

“Of course you do. You're the king of avoidance.” Sloane shook her head. “Want to come over Saturday, use the pool and have dinner with us? We'll barbecue.”

“Yeah, maybe. I'll let you know.”

“If you don't want to talk about it, we won't talk about it. But don't be alone, Aidan.”

He went inside the guest room, gathered up his stuff, and grabbed his toiletries from the bathroom.

“I'm taking off,” he said and gave Sloane a hug. “Nice ring.”

* * *

Dana came home to find seven kids in her driveway, eating Otter Pops, while Aidan blew up their inner tubes with an electric air pump.

“Hey.” He bobbed his head at her.

“Going to the river?”

“Yep. Want to come?”

“No thanks.” It had been a hell of a day and all she wanted to do was soak in the tub with a glass of wine. Besides, it seemed a little late for the river. In an hour it would be dark. “Be careful.”

“I always am.” He tossed one of the kids the last tube and they followed him like the Pied Piper down the street, sucking on their ices.

He'd only been here a couple of days and was already making friends with the neighborhood children. To satisfy her curiosity, she went inside, opened the freezer and, as suspected, it was filled with Otter Pops. She was living with a twelve-year-old. She found a bottle of chardonnay in the refrigerator, uncorked it, and poured a glass. Taking it into the bedroom, she quickly stripped and slipped into a robe. She wanted to get in the tub before Aidan got home. No more hallway nudity.

As the bath filled, Dana took a few sips of wine, tested the water, and got in, resting her glass on the edge of the tub for easy access. Ms. Confidentiality had surprised her by coming in a day early. Apparently, she needed to get out of New York before another sordid story broke about her. Dana wasn't clear on all the details, only that her client's boyfriend was wanted by the feds and she planned to hide out at the Lumber Baron.

She wanted to start touring properties first thing in the morning. Clearly she hoped to hole up here until the media unearthed a new scandal about someone else. It was a shame she'd been mired in her boyfriend's controversy because Dana found her show and books to be inspiring. Women all over the country did.

Dana soaked until her skin started to wrinkle, then got out and put on a pair of drawstring shorts and a cotton T-shirt. On her bed, she unrolled Colin's plans and took the time to study them, trying to visualize the floor plan. She heard the front door open and close and, a short time later, the shower go on. And as much as she tried to concentrate on the blueprints, she kept seeing Aidan's broad, naked chest from the other day. The towel wrapped around his narrow waist, barely concealing his butt. And those long, strong legs . . .

She got up and turned the air conditioner on. At the sound of the water stopping, she opened her door a crack, got her wineglass, and started for the kitchen just as Aidan came down the hall wearing nothing but that towel again. Little droplets of water glistened in his chest hair and Dana had to force her eyes up to keep from staring.

“You hungry?” he asked as they passed.

“I don't eat after six.”

“Well, I'm making pasta if you want some.” He disappeared inside his bedroom before she could respond.

Who ate pasta at eight at night? She poured herself another glass of wine and got the coffeemaker set up for the morning. She was scheduled to pick up her client at nine.

Aidan came in wearing a pair of low-slung cargo shorts and a T-shirt that stretched over his mile-wide chest. “You sell any houses?”

“Not today. But maybe tomorrow.”

His brows winged up. “Yeah? In Sierra Heights?”

“No. This particular client wants horse property.” The description seemed vague enough that Dana didn't think she was violating the confidentiality agreement.

“A lot of acreage?” He got a pot out, filled it with water, and put it on the stovetop to boil. “I need to get in there.” Grasping her around the waist, he shifted her away from the pantry.

His hands were big and they seemed to linger. Although that could've been Dana's imagination, because she liked the way they felt on her. Strong and firm, but at the same time gentle.

“She hasn't been too good at communicating about what she wants; just that she'll know it when she sees it.”

“That's gotta make your job more difficult,” he said, and tore open a bag of spaghetti.

“A little bit. A lot of times people just don't know what they're looking for. I like the role of narrowing it down for them. We'll probably drive around to a number of different places until something clicks. Sometimes this job requires mind reading and a psychology background. What did you do today?”

“Got my shades, got groceries, went to my sister's house and got the rest of my stuff.”

“How was the river?”

“Good. The kids said the water is usually deeper. I figure it's low on account of the drought.” He poured half the contents of the spaghetti package into the boiling water.

She watched as he started the sauce in a second pan, dicing tomatoes and crushing fresh garlic. He seemed to know what he was doing. Good at multitasking, he began setting the table for two. She didn't stop him because everything smelled so good. It wouldn't kill her to have just a taste, Dana told herself.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“Firehouse. Everyone has to take turns.” He grabbed her bottle of wine and poured some into his sauce.

“Is there anything you're not good at? Cooking, building closets, putting out fires, blowing up kids' inner tubes . . .”

He laughed, then grew somber. “I've got some stuff I'm not good at.”

“Like what?” She sat at the small kitchen table and continued to watch him cook.

“You go first.” Aidan pulled a strand of pasta out of the pot to test it.

“Of things I'm not good at? It's a long list. The only thing I'm really good at is selling real estate.”

“Nah,” he said. “You're good at organization and at putting a house together.” He pointed at the stenciled rooster on the wall to prove his point.

She shrugged. “I learned some staging tricks, is all. I'm certainly no interior designer.”

“You've got a good eye for color. I like what you did with the paint in the living room.”

Aidan strained the pasta, grabbed two plates out of the cupboard, dished up both servings, which he topped with the sauce, and told her to eat up. She twisted a few strands around her fork and took a bite.

“Mmm, it's good.”

He nodded. “So what's the deal with you and Griffin?”

Dana nearly choked on her food. “There's no deal with us, other than he's my client.”

“Brady said you two used to date. I certainly got that impression this morning.”

She waved him off. “That was a while ago. He's with Lina now.” Grabbing the chardonnay off the counter, she poured herself another glass. “You want some?”