Her Irresistible Troublemaker (A Town Named Eden Book 3) (2 page)

Jack dug deep for some sympathy but came up empty. With thirty-five people on the payroll, one ruined view was the least of his concerns. “Look on the bright side, it’ll increase your productivity. Or you could always move. In fact, you could move into an apartment here. That way, you’ll be spared the eyesore.” He frowned. Had she hung up?

She’d hung up.

He hoped it wasn’t a sign of worse things to come. With all the delays he’d had to deal with, he didn’t need any more trouble from Alexandra Gardner. The thought triggered a spasm in his neck muscles, prompting him to call it quits, head home, get some sleep and get an early start tomorrow. But as he turned to leave, his cell rang again.

Instinct told him to let the call go straight to voice mail, but curiosity got the better of him. He answered on the third ring and announced himself. “Jack Riley.”

“It’s you. Don’t try to deny it, I saw your cell light up.”

“Lexie!” he said as if greeting a dear old friend.

“Did you enjoy watching me parading around in my underwear?”

Too late to offer explanations. Besides, he’d only make matters worse.

Maybe he’d find something appropriate to say after he’d had a good night’s rest, but he had the feeling no amount of explaining or apologizing would be enough for Alexandra Gardner.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed chatting with you, I’ve had a long day. Thank you for your Good Samaritan phone call.”

Jack ended the call, switched his cell off, and gave himself a minute to clear his head before too many thoughts settled in for the night. But as he strode away, he threw his gaze over his shoulder and tried to remember the last time a woman had held his interest for longer than a few seconds.

Chapter Two

“I think I’m in trouble,” Jack told his brother the next morning as he strode into the building site and climbed the stairs, his rested eyes scanning the work in-progress.

“Next time you call, remind me not to ask how things are going,” his brother said laughing. “Okay. Measure it.”

“From zero to ten? An irate female.” And to make matters worse, Alexandra… Lexie Gardner had taken up residence in his mind and he couldn’t shake her off. He’d gone to sleep thinking about her husky voice and had woken up thinking about…

“An irate female?” Mason asked, “I thought Juliette had weaned you off those types.”

Mention of his ex-fiancée had Jack clenching his jaw. It had been six months since they’d parted ways, and she still had that effect on him. “She did, but I can’t avoid this one. She lives twenty feet away.”

“Sounds like she’s taken out a restraining order.”

“No need. I’m staying well away from her, but that’s my common sense talking.”

Another bark of laughter. “That’s what you think,” Mason said. “You’re talking about her and that means you’re thinking about her. Give into it, buddy, you’re no longer in charge. Let nature take its course. Take the path of least resistance. You remember how to do that?”

“Suddenly I can’t remember why I called you. It sure wasn’t to get an earful of platitudes.”

“Ha! You knew exactly what I’d say meaning you’re thinking with the most powerful, capricious tool around. It’s taken over and there’s no point trying to reason with it, least of all by labeling the source of your problem as trouble. That only sweetens the chase.”

“I’m not chasing anyone,” Jack muttered.

“Okay, if you say so.”

Jack shook his head. “You’re no help.” Somehow, he’d figure out how to approach Lexie Gardner, apologize to her and then exile her from his thoughts.

“Before you hang up… I don’t know how to break this to you, so I’ll just rip the band-aid off. Dad’s back.”

Jack set the cup of coffee he’d been nursing down on the windowsill and raked his fingers through his hair. “Thanks for ruining my morning.”

“You know you’ll forgive him.”

For disappearing without saying a word? He’d been on the brink of checking hospitals… “For skipping out on me when I most needed him? He only has one job to do. Liaise with investors. Instead, he takes off with wife number five.”

“He’s up to number five? I’d lost count. Anyway, he’s in love. What do you expect?”

Something better than a belated post-card from the Caribbean. “I think I’d rather have a compulsive gambler for a father. He’s in love with the novelty of falling in love and marrying. At this rate, there’ll be no end to it. If this one falls through, he’ll be broke and I’ll be the one picking up the slack.” And complaining about it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Jack knew he’d come through just fine. He always did since a lifetime of being more responsible than his father had honed his skills to perfection. But for once, he wished to avoid bumpy roads and curve balls and all manner of obstacles and diversions.

“I’d hate to point out the obvious, but you’re more alike than you realize.”

“I think I should ask for a paternity test.” He strode along the length of the floor to ceiling window and came to a sudden stop. “Oh, hell.” A growl broke through his parted lips. “I’m done for.” Lexie Gardner didn’t have curtains in her bedroom. Why hadn’t he noticed before? Because lately, he hadn’t even had time to stop and look out the window, he thought.

“Are you going to share?” his brother asked.

Jack shook his head and lowered his hardhat over his eyes. “I’ll have to call you back.” He pushed away from the window, hunted down the spare set of building plans, and strode down the stairs, his steps calm, yet determined.

* * *

Lexie stretched her arms over her head and thought she hadn’t had a sleep until noon type of day since—

No, don’t go there. She didn’t want to remember how long it had been since someone had given her a reason to stay up until dawn and sleep until midday curled up in lazy contentment.

Turning her gaze toward the window, she cringed. “No more ray of happy morning sunshine either.” The sight of gray concrete looming only a few feet away gave her instant recall, flooding her mind with a replay of the previous night’s phone conversation.

“Jack Riley must have had a good laugh at my expense.” Too late to wish she’d minded her own business, she thought. Although deep down, she knew it had been the right thing to do. Yes, but… Heaven only knew what he thought of her now. It was bad enough he got to lord it over her…

“He probably thinks I’m a neurotic, two-headed mutation from the planet Bizarro.” Lexie pulled the bed covers over her head and told herself to focus. “Stop obsessing and make a list.” She had plenty to do, starting with a new storyline to plot out for Lulu McGee’s weekly appearance in Ava’s magazine, Girl About Town.

Lately, Lulu’s search for love had taken a detour, and while Lexie tried to steer clear of autobiographical references, sometimes it couldn’t be avoided.

In keeping with her own squiggly life trajectory, Lulu had traipsed her way through a dozen unfulfilling jobs, occasionally catching a whiff of a possible career in the making, but never sticking to anything long enough to find out how badly she’d fail at it. Then, facing a lackluster future, Lulu had hit on the idea of acquiring a mentor, someone to guide and inspire her. In the process, Lulu had become a mentor herself, helping her new friends through their spills and thrills. And that, Lexie knew, was definitely not autobiographical. She’d been the family screw-up since birth and her friends had seen her crumble once too often to ever think of tapping into her dilemma solving skills.

“At least Lulu gets to have fun.” And so she should. After all, Lulu had saved her bacon…

Yes, yes. That’s all very well, Lexie. But when are you going to grow up and get a real job or better still, get married and give me grandchildren...

“When my thoughts start sounding like my mother, it’s definitely time to get up.” Stretching again, she reached for her cell to check her regular Saturday morning message from her sister, Maggie.  Reading it, her nose wrinkled.

“We need to catch up?” Had something happened? Her high achieving sister hadn’t taken time off from her prestigious post in an investment company in over twelve months. She hadn’t even broken her pace for the Christmas break, opting for a working holiday instead of the usual family get-together at their parents’ place in Eden.

Mulling over the unusual message, Lexie ignored the snappy rap on her front door. However, when it was followed by a more demanding knock, she sprung out of bed.

At this time of morning it was bound to be one of her neighbors wanting milk or sugar for their morning coffee. She’d lived in the landmark Art Deco apartment building for over a year and it hadn’t taken long for everyone in the building to discover she always had both milk and sugar in abundance because she worked from home.

Best to put them out of their misery now because she hadn’t had time to do the grocery shopping, she thought as she slipped into her faded kimono robe, and strode to the front door. When she pressed her eye to the peephole, she frowned.

“No way. No way!”

Not bothering with the security chain, she drew the door open and gave Jack Riley a confident head to toe sweep, taking in his lean hips, his arms crossed against his broad chest and the fierce scowl fixed in place.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Ulysses lurking by the stairs, probably waiting for the coast to clear before he came in for his morning kitty treat.

Trying to be subtle about it, she lifted her chin and straightened her back. Jack Riley was more than a head taller than her, and she didn’t want to give him any more intimidating advantages than he already had.

“Do you normally open your door to strangers?”

“Someone with ulterior motives wouldn’t be wearing that scowl on their face.” Besides, he had his name written on his hardhat.

The edge of his lip lifted. “I see you’re not a morning person.”

She folded her arms across her chest and nodded. “My coffee beans cower when they see me coming.”

“Does that mean it’s too early for all other pleasantries?”

“I get the feeling you didn’t come here to be sociable.” Which made her wonder why he had come. Dressed in paint splattered jeans and a snug fitting T-shirt, he looked ready to put in a hard day’s work. “You’re not allowed to work on weekends.”

He nudged back his hardhat and gave her face a leisurely sweep with eyes that would have been better suited on a poet. A dark gray so dark they almost looked black.

“I can work weekends, so long as I don’t use any power tools,” he drawled out with a couldn’t-care-less edge.

Lexie tilted her head. “I liked you better on the phone.” His voice had sounded like ambrosia dripping off his tongue. Now, she almost shivered at the feeling of icicles shooting out at her. He meant business.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to like me. I’ll be as quick as I can be.” He picked up a roll of paper that had been leaning against the wall and stepped forward.

“Hey.” Lexie put her hand up and to her surprise he stopped. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He held up the roll of paper as if that explained everything. His eyes widened slightly and his eyebrows curved as he gave her a ‘surely you can see what I’m doing’ look. “I’m going to cover your windows.”

“Cover my windows?”

“You don’t have curtains.”

Lexie joined the dots and laughed, her amusement mingling with disbelief. “In your dreams, buddy. No way am I going to be left in the dark. It’s bad enough you’ve stolen my view—” 

“Does that mean you’re happy for me to enjoy the view I’m getting?”

“You don’t have to look. There is such a thing as self-control.”

His eyes swept around her face, wavered, and then dropped to give her body a torturously slow sweep. “As you can see, I’m all out of self-control.”

“Another reason why I shouldn’t let you in.” Although a part of her wanted to grab a handful of his T-shirt and drag him inside, throw him on her bed, tie him up and—

Lexie scrambled to remember what came next. It really had been a long time.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before opening the door to me.”

She gave him a knowing smile. “Half the residents here are early risers. Don’t think your arrival went unnoticed.”

“Okay. So you have nothing to worry about, but just in case...” He pulled out his cell and snapped a photo of himself. “What’s your email address?”

Frowning, she gave it to him.

“There you go.”

“Did you just send me a mug shot of yourself?”

“If anything happens to you, the police will know who to look for.” Pocketing his cell, he breezed past her, leaving her standing by the door with her mouth gaping open.

Her apartment instantly shrunk in size and the sight of his broad shoulders had the effect of hobbling her, so she stood there cataloguing him with the thoroughness of a librarian; her eyes measuring the width of his shoulders, then following the sleek line that narrowed down to lean hips and a perfectly formed butt. He had a sort of master of all he could survey type of walk, almost lazy. Leanly muscled, his body looked fluid matching the way he moved. Without clothes—

“Hey. Where do you think you’re going? That’s my bedroom,” she snapped when she saw him heading in that direction.

“Trouble spot number one,” he threw over his broad shoulder.

Lexie rushed in after him. “What—”

Sure enough, he had a perfect view of her bedroom and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn pajamas to bed.

“Would you mind holding this end?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked as he flattened the roll of paper against the window.

Lexie didn’t need to be asked twice. Slanting her eyes toward him, she watched him tear off some tape with his teeth and press it against one corner of the paper he’d placed in the middle of the window, the white rectangle leaving the edges clear—enough to allow light to filter through but not enough to expose her to the outside world… as she had been.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked, his gravely voice sounding annoyingly calm.

“This paper. It has building plans drawn on it. I’m going to be looking at them day in, day out. Is this your idea of a bad joke?”

He shrugged. “Feel free to provide another solution like putting some curtains up.”

“How about you take down the building and go erect it someplace else?”

“Seriously?” He tore off another piece of tape, his dark eyes dancing around her face as if by looking at her he could measure her level of mental competency. 

“It’s an eyesore. It doesn’t even match the style of the street.”

The edges of his eyes crinkled. “That sort of attitude smacks of discrimination.”

Lexie snorted. “I call it good taste.”

“Let me guess, you’re an Art Deco snob.” He finished taping the makeshift privacy screen and stepped back.