Home at Rose Cottage (6 page)

“It wasn’t a big deal. She’s a great kid.”

“She’s a troubled kid,” he corrected. “I’m sure you figured that out.”

“Because you and her mom are divorced,” Melanie said.

“That and…” He seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “Well, because her mom was addicted to drugs when Jessie was born. It’s affected Jessie. She was born addicted, too.”

“Oh, Mike, I’m so sorry.”

“She’s okay for the most part, but there are lingering effects, like the tantrums over nothing. One minute she’s fine, the next she’s out of control. It’s like living with a time bomb, only I don’t have any idea when it’s set to go off.”

Melanie’s heart ached for both of them. “That must be incredibly frustrating for both of you.”

He frowned. “I didn’t come here so you could pity me. I just thought you should know why I’m so protective of her. Keeping Jessie on an even emotional keel is hard enough without people coming and going in her life.”

Melanie wanted to argue that children needed to learn that people would always come and go, but how could she? Not only was it not her place, but it was probably entirely different for a child who’d lost her mother. Having that relationship severed at such an early age had to be
traumatic. Additional losses would only bolster Jessie’s fear that it was unsafe to give her love to anyone. It could have a lasting effect on her emotional well-being.

Before Melanie could think of what she could say, Mike stood up. “Well, that’s all I wanted you to know. I’d better get going. I have a delivery at one of my jobs this morning, and I need to be there to supervise getting all the plants into the ground. I should be able to get by here to help you by midweek.”

“Whenever it’s convenient,” she told him. “I just appreciate your willingness to take this on.”

Melanie walked him back to the door. Impulsively, she reached up and touched his cheek. “You’re a terrific dad, especially given the trying circumstances. I hope you know that.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes. “What makes you say that?”

“You remind me of my own dad and, believe me, there’s not a better one on earth. You’re protective and attentive and you listen to Jessie. Most of all, it’s obvious you adore her. She may miss having a mom in her life, but she’s very lucky to have you.”

For an instant this hulking, strong man looked flustered. “I don’t know what to say.”

Melanie grinned at him. “It’s a compliment. All you need to say is thank you.”

Instead, to her astonishment, he leaned down and kissed her—just the slightest grazing of warm lips against hers, but it was enough to send heat spiraling through her.

Then he was out the door. He was halfway to the street when he finally glanced back and caught her with her fingers against her lips. He winked.

“Thanks,” he said.

Now she was the one who was flustered. “Anytime,” she whispered, but only when he was too far away to hear her.

This visit to Rose Cottage was supposed to provide her with a whole new level of serenity, but suddenly Melanie was feeling anything but serene. She’d felt more clear-to-her-toes shock waves from that innocent little kiss than she’d ever felt in Jeremy’s arms. Now wasn’t that interesting?

And dangerous.

Mike had worked like a demon all day, pushing himself in the vain hope that sweat and hard work would make him forget all about that kiss. It had happened on impulse, just a quick little brush of his mouth over hers, mostly to see if it would rattle her half as much as her kind words and solemn expression had rattled him.

The joke had turned out to be on him. His blood had been humming all day long, and the scent of her had lingered with him. Apparently there wasn’t enough perspiration on the planet to overpower it.

“Hey, Mike, we’re supposed to provide the labor,” Jeff Clayborne shouted.

“I’m just helping out a little,” Mike responded, pausing long enough to wipe his brow with the already-soaked bandanna he’d stuck in his back pocket.

“You help out any more and we’ll be out of jobs,” Jeff retorted. “Take a break, man. I’ve got a Thermos of iced tea here that I’ll share with you.”

Mike knew all about Jeff’s tea. It was so sweet it was enough to send most people into a diabetic coma. Jeff said the key to getting it that way was to boil the sugar right into it. Mike shuddered at the thought.

“I’ll pass on the tea, thanks, but I will take a break.
I’ve got bottled water in my truck.” He grabbed a bottle from the cooler in back, then joined the other man in the shade of an oak tree.

Jeff glanced over at him. “Something on your mind?”

“No. Why?”

“You usually work this hard when there’s a problem with Jessie. Otherwise, you loaf around and supervise the rest of us.”

“Very funny,” Mike commented. “And you’re totally off the mark. Jessie’s great, actually.”

“I imagine that has something to do with her new friend,” Jeff said, his expression innocent.

Mike saw where this was going and wondered how word had gotten around so quickly. Then again, this was a small town.

“What new friend would that be?” he asked, keeping his own expression neutral.

“I heard blond hair and big blue eyes and legs that wouldn’t quit.” Jeff grinned wickedly. “Oh, wait, she would be
your
new friend, right?”

“Go to hell,” Mike muttered.

“Heard she’s new in town, that she’s Cornelia Lindsey’s granddaughter and that the three of you were over at the nursery on Saturday, then at the ice cream shop and then the bookstore.”

“It’s a damn good thing we weren’t trying to sneak around,” Mike muttered irritably.

Jeff laughed. “Yeah, well, you definitely picked the wrong place to live if you ever hope to keep your personal life a secret. Besides, an awful lot of people have been trying to set you up ever since you moved here, including my wife. You’ve turned ’em all down. Naturally they’re curious when you managed to find someone all on your
own. The staff at the nursery couldn’t wait to report to Pam and me.”

“Melanie doesn’t have anything to do with my personal life,” Mike insisted, figuring he would eventually burn in hell for the lie. “She’s a client. Sort of.”

“How does someone get to be a ‘sort-of’ client?” Jeff taunted. “Especially since you told me last week you weren’t taking on any new jobs for a while.”

“I’m helping her get the garden fixed up at her grandmother’s place.”

Jeff regarded him with amusement. “And I imagine she’s ‘sort of’ paying you for your help. Am I right? What’s the going rate for that kind of help? Dinner? A roll in the hay?”

Mike scowled at him. “It’s not like that, dammit.”

Jeff held up his hands. “Hey, okay. Don’t get all worked up. I was just teasing.”

“Yeah. That’s the kind of teasing that can ruin someone’s reputation. Knock it off.”

Jeff’s gaze narrowed. “Do you really have a thing for this woman?”

“No, absolutely not!” Mike responded fiercely.

Jeff studied him intently, then burst out laughing. “Oh, pal, you are in one helluva state of denial.”

Mike glared at him. It was probably true, but his friend didn’t need to be quite so gleeful about it. Mike stood up slowly, deliberately took his time over the last swallow of cool water from the bottle, then tossed it in a nearby trash bin. Only then did he meet Jeff’s gaze.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said quietly.

Jeff laughed. “Sure, I do. I said exactly the same thing about Pam till about fifteen minutes before the wedding ceremony. Denial’s second nature to us, pal. Women know
it, too. They just ignore our protests, and the next thing you know,
bam,
wedded bliss.”

“Not gonna happen,” Mike insisted. He’d been there, done that and lived to rue the day. Except for Jessie, he reminded himself quickly. She was worth all the rest.

She was also the reason why he’d never let things with Melanie go anywhere. Period.

He didn’t waste his breath saying any of that to Jeff. Why spoil his gloating? Jeff clearly didn’t believe any of his denials, anyway. Hell, after the impact that sweet, innocent little kiss had had on his system, Mike wasn’t sure he believed them himself. Besides, perhaps the rumor of his interest in Melanie would finally get Pam off his case about going out with every available woman she ran across. Maybe that trip to the nursery hadn’t been as innocent as he’d believed it to be. Maybe he’d subconsciously known that it would stir up talk, the kind of talk that could save him from all that unwanted matchmaking.

Jeff gave him a knowing look. “You’re thinking this will get Pam to stop meddling, aren’t you?”

“It crossed my mind,” Mike admitted.

“Ha! This kind of rumor is all the motivation she needs to kick her campaign into high gear. You’re matrimonial toast, buddy. Accept it now and save yourself a lot of aggravation.”

Mike bit back a groan. “Can’t you control your wife?”

Jeff gave him a sympathetic look. “You really don’t know the first thing about women, do you?”

“No question about that,” Mike agreed. “No question at all.”

O
n Monday night the skies opened up, and the April showers began in earnest. They continued straight through the day on Tuesday and again on Wednesday. Dull gray clouds dumped sheets and sheets of endless, cold rain, turning the yard into a mud bath.

Melanie sat in the dreary kitchen, sipping a cup of tea, eating a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie that was burned on the edges, and regretting that she’d ever agreed to come to Rose Cottage. She was bored. She was lonely. Worst of all, she was daydreaming about yet another man she couldn’t have.

There was little question in her mind that, despite his single status, Mike wasn’t available. He’d clearly dedicated himself to raising his daughter and maybe to nursing whatever resentments he still felt toward his former wife. The very last thing Melanie needed in her life was a man whose heart wasn’t free, whatever the reason.

She ought to pack up and head back to Boston before the appeal of that one kiss made mincemeat of her common sense. She ought to go back, find her dream job, maybe move into a new apartment and definitely throw herself into enough hobbies that she’d forget all about her
knack for finding the wrong men. The D’Angelo women had been taught to be independent. She didn’t need a man in her life.

Of course, watching the way her parents still got a little gleam in their eyes when they saw each other and their freely given affection with each other had made all of them long to achieve what their parents had. Colleen and Max D’Angelo made marriage look easy.

But even after convincing herself that it was time to go, Melanie reminded herself that it would be a shame to leave Rose Cottage before she finished doing something with her grandmother’s garden. She’d studied that photo Mike had found so fascinating, and she was beginning to envision making the yard look like that again. It was the least she could do in her grandmother’s memory.

Of course, if the rains kept up like this, it would be summer before the ground dried up enough for her to get the first flower planted. Melanie wanted to be back home before that, making plans, embarking on her new life.

She bit into another too-crisp cookie, then tossed it aside in disgust. If only she had Maggie’s talent in the kitchen. Instead, she was an absolute disaster. Who else could manage to destroy slice-and-bake cookies?

Her pity party was in full swing when someone knocked on the front door, startling her. Melanie was so relieved by the prospect of a distraction, she practically ran to the door, then faltered when she glanced through the window and spotted a dripping-wet Mike and Jessie on the porch. The little twinge of excitement that formed low in her belly was a warning. She was way too eager to see these two. A smart woman would leave the door firmly closed.

Since she tended to listen to her heart, not her head, she opened the door. “Did you two come by boat?” she
asked, standing aside to let them in. Jessie clung to her father’s hand and regarded Melanie silently.

Mike grinned. “You sound edgy. Getting a little cabin fever?”

“Something like that,” she admitted. “Hi, Jessie.”

Jessie peered up at her and finally smiled. “Hi.”

“I thought for a minute a cat had got your tongue,” Melanie teased.

Jessie looked perplexed. “There’s no cat here.”

Melanie chuckled. “No, there’s not. It’s just an expression. Here, let me take your coats. Can I get you something hot to drink? Maybe some hot chocolate, Jessie?”

At last Jessie gave her a full-fledged smile. “I love hot chocolate. So does Daddy.”

Melanie met his gaze. “Is that so?” she asked him as she led the way into the kitchen. She hung their coats on the drying pegs beside the back door, then glanced once more at Mike. The rain had put a bit of wayward curl into his hair, which gave him a rakish look that was even more appealing.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer coffee or tea?” she asked him.

“Whatever’s easiest. We just stopped on the way home from school to make sure you hadn’t floated away.”

“As you can see, I’m still here. Since I finished up most of the work I can do inside the house, I’ve been reduced to baking cookies.” She gestured toward the plate. “They’re a little overdone, but help yourselves.”

Jessie gave her father a hopeful look. At his nod, she grabbed one and took a bite. Melanie waited for some comment about the burned edges, but Jessie climbed onto a kitchen chair and munched happily, seemingly oblivious to the cookie’s flaws. Melanie turned to Mike. “What
about you? Are you brave enough to try one? I know they don’t look like much.”

He laughed. “Actually they look a lot like mine—right, Jessie?”

“Uh-huh,” Jessie said, her mouth full. “Daddy burns everything.”

“Not everything,” he protested indignantly, then shrugged. “I’m great with cereal.”

Melanie laughed. “Since you have such low expectations, maybe I’ll risk inviting you to dinner.”

“Tonight?” Jessie asked hopefully. “Daddy was gonna make spaghetti from a can.”

“I definitely think I can improve on that, if you’d like to stay,” she said, meeting Mike’s gaze. “Maybe real pasta with some garlic bread. Of course, the sauce will be from a jar, but that’s still better than canned spaghetti, right?”

“Anything’s better than that,” Mike agreed. “But if we’re staying for dinner, then no more cookies, Jessie. You’ll spoil your appetite. Besides, you’ve already had enough sugar for one afternoon.”

Jessie seemed about to argue, but Mike’s steady gaze never wavered and she backed down.

“Can I watch TV?” she asked instead.

Melanie glanced at Mike for permission. At his nod, she took Jessie into the living room and left her happily watching a PBS children’s show.

“I really only came by to check on you,” Mike said, when Melanie got back to the kitchen. “Not to invite ourselves to dinner.”

“Believe me, I’m glad of the company,” Melanie told him honestly.

“Too much time on your hands to think?” he asked.

“Way too much.”

“Want to talk about whatever brought you here? You’ve listened to me. I’m willing to return the favor.”

She shook her head. “It was bad enough wallowing in all that self-pity by myself, I don’t want to inflict it on you. I’d rather have you talk to me. Tell me about your latest project or how you ended up here at the end of the earth. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“End of the earth?” he inquired. “Isn’t that a little bit of an overstatement?”

“It’s not Boston.”

“But apparently Boston hasn’t been all that great to you lately,” he reminded her. “Maybe you should think about giving a place like this a chance, instead of dismissing it out of hand.”

“I am,” she said. “At least for the short term, but I was asking about you. Were you born here?”

“No. I came from Richmond. I actually started my business there, but when Linda and I split up, I realized Jessie and I needed to get away, not just to put some distance between us and my ex-wife, but so I wouldn’t be so consumed with work that I couldn’t spend enough time with Jessie.”

“What made you pick this area?”

“It’s beautiful. It’s near the water. There’s a lot of building going on, so there’s a need for a good landscape designer. It’s not that far from home, so Jessie can see her grandparents from time to time. It’s been a good fit. I like being part of a small, growing community.”

“Had you been here before, or did you just drive around till you found a place that suited you?”

“Actually I have a friend who’s in the nursery business here, Jeff Clayborne.”

“That was his nursery we went to the other day,” Melanie recalled.

“Exactly. He was out on a job, or you would have met him.” He gave her a rueful look. “Actually he’s heard all about you.”

She regarded him with surprise. “Really?”

“Word travels fast around here. When I saw him Monday, Jeff had already heard about Jessie and me being at the nursery, the ice cream shop and the bookstore with a gorgeous woman. I’m pretty sure he’s up to speed on your entire family history by now, too.”

“Now, there’s one of the obvious disadvantages of small town living, don’t you think? Everyone knows your business.”

Mike shrugged. “Seems to me like gossip gets around in a big city, too—at least to your own family and circle of friends and business associates.”

Melanie thought of how a fear of gossip had sent her scurrying out of Boston and realized he was exactly right. “I guess ‘good’ gossip does circulate wherever you are,” she agreed.

“So, what do people back in Boston say about you?” he asked.

“Hard to tell,” Melanie said evasively. “I try not to give them much to talk about.”

“You told me once before that there’s no special man in your life, right?”

“None,” she said tightly.

He studied her closely. “Something tells me there’s a story behind that. You’re too beautiful to be alone.”

“I was with the wrong man. It ended. That’s the whole story.”

“In a nutshell,” he conceded. “Someday I’d like to hear the unabridged version.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t that what friends do? Tell each other their deep, dark secrets?”

She laughed. “
Girl
friends might do that. I’m not sure I’ve ever shared my deep dark secrets with a guy. What about you? Do you pour out your secrets to, say, Brenda?”

“Not exactly. Not that she hasn’t tried to pry them out of me. And Jeff’s wife, Pam, is a master at the poking and prodding game. Her degree’s in horticulture, but you’d think she graduated magna cum laude in investigative reporting.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Edgy,” he admitted. “Uncomfortable.”

Melanie smiled. “There you go. That’s exactly how your poking around makes me feel. Why don’t we move on? We could discuss whether or not you’re any good at all at making a salad.”

Mike looked as if he might argue, but then he gave her a chagrined smile. “Whatever you want. I happen to be excellent at making salad. There’s no cooking involved.”

“Perfect,” she said. “And Jessie can set the table.”

Mike opened his mouth, no doubt to argue, but Melanie cut him off. “The dishes are old. If she drops something, it’s no big deal.”

“Then by all means, let her set the table,” he relented.

Melanie regarded him curiously. “Doesn’t she have chores at home?”

“Sure. She makes her own bed. It’s not pretty, but she does it. And I’m teaching her to do laundry. We’re a little shaky on the sorting process, which is why I’m sometimes wearing pink underwear.”

“I’d like to see that,” Melanie said without thinking.

He gave her an amused look. “Oh, really?”

She frowned at the glint in his eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Of course I do,” he said, though he couldn’t seem to stop grinning. He stood up. “Where’s the salad stuff?”

“I generally keep my salad ‘stuff’ in the refrigerator. How about you?” Melanie teased.

He scowled at her. “I meant the bowl you want to use.”

“Ah, that would be in the cupboard over here,” she said.

But just as she opened the cabinet door, Mike stepped in behind her and reached over her head. She could feel the press of his legs along the backs of her thighs. His hips cradled her derriere. The intimacy sent a wave of longing washing over her, to say nothing of the kind of heat she’d sworn to avoid.

He set the bowl on the counter in front of her but didn’t back away. Instead, he sighed.

“I swore I wasn’t going to do this again,” he murmured just before he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “Damn, but you smell good. I couldn’t get this scent out of my head all day after I kissed you on Monday. It about drove me crazy.”

Melanie trembled, as much from the helpless dismay she heard in his voice as from the touch of his lips on her skin. She knew precisely how he felt, understood exactly what it was like to have sworn off something only to be unable to resist it.

In fact, she was clinging to the counter with white-knuckled determination right now to keep from turning in Mike’s arms and transforming that tender kiss into something filled with heat and urgency. There was no mistaking the press of his arousal against her or the wanting in his voice. She understood all of that, too.

Slowly, inevitably—and all too soon—he backed away.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Melanie had lived with too many regrets for too long now. She didn’t want another one—her own or his—on her conscience. “Don’t be,” she said harshly. “We’re both adults here. Sometimes things just happen. The only mistake would be in making too much of it.”

He faced her then. “Just a kiss, right?”

It was like equating an earthquake with a little shiver, but still she nodded. “Just a kiss.”

He smiled, his eyes smoldering in a way that told her he understood the depth of the lie as well as she did.

“Maybe we’d better get Jessie in here now,” he suggested. “Before I get any other bright ideas.”

Melanie laughed and the intense moment was broken…for now.

Mike had never thought of himself as the type to play with fire, but apparently he’d been mistaken. He was playing with a whole damned inferno when it came to being around Melanie. She could send him up in flames in a heartbeat.

He told himself it was only because he’d been a celibate saint since he’d moved to town. After all this time, it was perfectly natural to assume that sooner or later some woman was going to set him off.

Unfortunately, it just happened to be a woman who was hurting and vulnerable, rather than someone like the very willing Brenda, who could fend for herself. If he took advantage of the chemistry between him and Melanie and wound up hurting her, he’d feel like a first-class jerk. And if he let her into his life, already knowing she
was going to run out on him in the end, it would prove him to be an even bigger jerk.

That meant he ought to be steering clear of her, avoiding her like the plague, maybe finding some new route to get to work that wouldn’t take him directly past Melanie’s house every morning and night. Instead, he punished himself for his wayward thoughts by driving by Rose Cottage and testing his willpower.