Love and Other Surprises (11 page)

“Look, Ali…” he began.

She turned toward him, her eyes luminous and wide with gratitude. “Thanks, Matt,” she said softly. “You won’t be sorry about this.”

She held out her hand, and Matt folded it in his own. It felt so soft and fragile in his palm that he gave it a gentle squeeze instead of the businesslike shake he’d intended. He took another look at her beaming face and knew there was no way he could back out of the deal. He gave her the closest thing to a smile he could manage and closed the door behind her.

Alone again in his office, Matt sighed heavily and turned toward the window, raking his fingers through his hair. “Now I know what the term ‘temporary insanity’ means,” he muttered, resting a hand on the window frame.

Had he really agreed to let Tornado Ali rip through three of his houses and do heaven only knew what to the interior? What had he been thinking, offering her an office in his building? And why had he made arrangements to take her with him this afternoon when he had serious business to conduct with the framing carpenter?

He just wasn’t himself around her. She made him feel confused and befuddled and out of control. And here he’d gone and agreed to an arrangement that guaranteed he was going to feel that way every day until the development was finished.

Matt strode to his desk and lowered himself into his deep leather chair. No telling what kind of havoc she was likely to wreak in his nice, orderly life—a life he’d carefully constructed, a life that was largely predictable and devoid of surprises, a life he tightly controlled and liked just fine the way it was.

He rested his elbows on the gleaming mahogany desk and sank his face in his hands. “Won’t be sorry?” he moaned. “I already am.”

Hattie poked her head inside Matt’s office later that afternoon. “Ali said to tell you she’s ready to go when you are,” she announced. “She’s in her office.”

Matt looked up from the paperwork in front of him. The thought of Ali two doors down the hail in “her” office made his head begin to throb.

The receptionist grinned at him. “I think it’s wonderful that she’s going to be working here. Those houses need a woman’s touch—and so do you, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

Matt rubbed his temples. “It just so happens I do mind, Hattie,” he grumbled.

The older woman shook her head and clucked disapprovingly. “See what I mean? You’re grumpy as an old bear with an empty honey jar. You need someone to sweeten you up.” A gleam lit Hattie’s eyes as she picked up a stack of papers to be typed and filed from a leather tray on his desk. “Ali’s awfully pretty, isn’t she? And she’s just as nice as she is lovely. Reminds me a lot of Robert. Yes, sir, you could do a lot worse.”

“This happens to be a business, not a lonely hearts club,” Matt groused. “No one around here seems to remember we’re trying to turn a profit. Ali thinks Cimarron Homebuilders is some sort of negative cashflow experiment.”

“I think that girl’s going to surprise you,” Hattie said confidently.

“No doubt. Why do you think I’m so worried?”

Hattie harrumphed her way out of the room, wearing a knowing smile.

Matt closed the file he’d been studying and placed it in a stack of papers to be dealt with later. He’d never admit it to Hattie, but he’d been unable to get Ali off his mind ever since her morning visit. Despite his best efforts to concentrate on work, he kept seeing her bright eyes, her unruly mane of hair, her tempting, bee-stung lips. And the memory of those long legs of hers made it darn near impossible to focus on the construction estimates he’d been trying to review all afternoon.

Matt frowned and pushed back his chair. He should be worrying about her impact on his business, not his libido.

Well, he only had to put up with her for a couple of months. Surely he could handle that. Just two short months, then life would be back to normal.

Cheered by the thought, Matt grabbed his coat and headed down the hall. He pulled up short when he saw one of his carpenters fiddling with the door to her office.

“What are you doing?” Matt asked.

The man pointed a screwdriver at Robert’s nameplate, which dangled by a single screw. “Takin’ this off for the little lady.”

Matt stared at the wobbling nameplate and clenched his jaw. He wasn’t ready to have it removed. No one could ever replace his close friend and partner, and seeing the empty screw holes in the door would only remind him of his loss.

Ali must intend to put her name on the door. Tension coiled through his neck. How dare she make a decision like this without consulting him—especially since he’d made it clear that their partnership was temporary? Who did she think she was?

Your new business partner,
he reminded himself grimly,
whether you like it or not.

Still, there was something high-handed about the move that struck a nerve. He brushed past the carpenter and entered the office.

The nameplate wasn’t the only change, he realized as he stood in the middle of the room and looked around. She’d wasted no time putting her imprint on the place. She’d already rearranged the furniture, and from the number of plants strewn about the office, it looked like she’d bought out the local nursery. He spotted Ali in the corner behind a ficus tree, half hidden by its leaves as she tugged it into position.

Play it cool,
he warned himself.

“What’s going on here?” he asked as casually as he could manage.

She looked up and smiled. “Just settling in.”

“I see you couldn’t wait to get your own name on the door,” he commented.

Ali straightened, wiped her hands on her jeans and regarded him quizzically. Matt thrust his hands into his pockets and tried to look nonchalant, but he had the uneasy feeling that she saw right through his act. “I’m not interested in having a nameplate,” she said quietly. “I just don’t want to feel sad every time I walk through the door. Seeing Robert’s name up there was pretty hard to take. I hope you don’t mind. I thought I’d put up a doorknocker to hide the screw holes.”

Matt guiltily diverted his gaze to the floor. Nothing she’d ever done or said gave him cause to think she was into self-aggrandizement, and he knew she missed Robert as much as he did. Maybe more; she was Robert’s sister, for heaven’s sake. He was looking for reasons to dislike her. Matt shifted uneasily.
Give her a break,
he told himself.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to take it down myself,” he admitted. “I just never could quite bring myself to do it.”

Ali gave him an empathetic smile. “I know how that is,” she said softly. “I felt the same way about making any changes at the house, even though the place reminds me so strongly of Robert I practically feel like crying every time I walk through the door. Then it dawned on me that Robert never knowingly made me sad when he was alive, and he wouldn’t want to do it now.”

Matt regarded her with interest. “So what are you planning to do?”

“Redecorate. Re-paint and paper the walls, reupholster the living room furniture, hang some new window treatments.”

What the heck was a “window treatment”? The windows were fine as far as he could tell. “I don’t know who does upholstery work, but I’ll give you the names of the paint and wallpaper subcontractors we use,” Matt offered. “I’m sure they’ll give you a break on the cost.”

“Thanks. I’ll need their names for the work on the spec houses, but I plan to do the work at home myself.” She gave him a teasing grin. “Although I’m accepting weekend volunteers. Care to sign up?”

Matt raked a hand through his hair. It was no doubt the sort of thing Robert would have done for his sister, and his original intention had been to look out for her like a brother. Besides, Matt’s conscience burned over the way he’d practically accused her of being eager to get her name on the door. What the heck, he thought. It wouldn’t hurt him to play good Samaritan for a couple of weekends.

“I’ll help—but only if you lock up Flapper. I don’t want to be climbing any ladders with your kamikaze stunt dog around.”

“His name is Flipper,” Ali corrected with a grin. “And I promise to keep him outside whenever a ladder is involved. Thanks, Matt.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

Her expression suddenly turned serious. “There’s something else I haven’t thanked you for—taking care of the house and sorting through Robert’s belongings after the accident. It was a huge job and I know it must have been painful for you.” Her eyes were soft and warm, and they melted something inside him. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t realize you’d handled it until I talked to Hattie today. I guess I just assumed the attorneys for the estate had taken care of it. Anyway, I want you to know that you saved me a lot of grief. I—I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

The way her eyes misted over made a lump form in his throat. “Hey, I was glad to help.”

They stood regarding each other as emotion crackled between them. If she’d been anybody else, he probably would have reached out and hugged her, but he didn’t trust himself to touch her. There was something between them—something that thickened the air and made it hard to breathe, something that made casual contact impossible.

With an effort, he cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to meet the framing contractor at the job site, so we’d better get a move on.”

Maybe fresh air would clear his thinking. He sure hoped something would, because whenever he got around Ali, his thoughts grew as muddy as a pair of old workboots.

Chapter Seven

Here we are,” Matt said, steering the company pickup onto an unpaved road.

Ali braced her hand on the dashboard as the truck bounced over the rough dirt. Thank goodness the ride was almost over; the pickup cab was entirely too small and intimate for comfort. Or maybe Matt was just too large and disturbing. Either way, being confined in such close proximity to him made her edgy as a cat on a ledge.

Clutching her hands together in her lap, Ali angled her shoulder away from him and gazed out the windshield at the hillside. The beginnings of spring were sprouting in the wintery landscape. Oak, redbud and persimmon trees covered the rolling hills in varied shades of tender green.

“Oh, Matt, it’s beautiful here,” she breathed.

Matt tossed her a sideways grin as he steered the truck around a particularly deep rut.
”
l hope twenty qualified homebuyers agree with you. See those stakes?” He pointed to a line of orange sticks set at regular intervals among the trees.

Ali nodded. “What are they?”

“Markers for the lots.”

“They look large,” Ali remarked.

“About an acre each,” Matt affirmed. “We made them large to help preserve the natural beauty of the area. We’re working carefully to preserve as many trees as possible, too.” He shifted gears as the truck climbed a hill. “Robert and I gambled that the location was pretty enough that people wouldn’t mind the ten-minute drive to town.”

“I bet you’re right,” Ali said. “I know I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

Matt pulled the pickup to the side of the road behind a red flatbed truck and turned off the engine. Ali’s eyes followed his hands as he removed the key from the ignition.

During the brief drive from the office, she’d found herself frequently watching his hands, noting how his fingers rested lightly on the steering wheel, how they shifted gears with easy strength. His hands were strong, tanned and covered with a sprinkling of dark masculine hair, and she found them objects of fascination. They were the hands of a man accustomed to using them and they set her imagination to racing.

The truth was that just about every part of the man was fantasy material, Ali thought ruefully. To keep her mind from wandering into dangerous territory, she’d kept up a steady stream of questions about the development during the ride.

“There’s the first house,” Matt said, nodding toward a wooden skeleton of a home set back in the trees. “If you had a chance to look at the plans, you’ll recognize it as the one with the wraparound porch.”

Ali anxiously peered out the passenger door window, glad to have something to focus on besides Matt’s masculine attributes. “Oh, that’s my favorite!” she exclaimed. “And look—there’s the round turret at the corner.”

Matt rested his arm on the back of the seat and leaned toward her as he looked out at the structure, his eyes intent and glowing. “Looks like they got most of the framing up today.” His voice held a note of satisfaction that made her glance up at him. Pleasure played across the strong planes of his face and radiated from his light brown eyes.

This development means as much to him as it does to me,
Ali thought with surprise.
He really loves his work.
Somehow, she’d never thought of Matt in those terms. He’d been the practical one, the workhorse, the one who made Robert’s exciting designs become reality. It hadn’t dawned on her that he would get as much satisfaction from his end of the business as Robert had from his.

“Let’s go have a look,” he said, opening his door.

Ali reached for the door handle on the passenger side. Matt shot her a staying glance. “I’ll come around and get the door for you,” he instructed. “Just stay put.”

Ali hesitated, appreciating the masculine courtesy but feeling silly just sitting there while he circled the truck. She’d compromise, she decided. She’d open the door, but let him help her down.

The door stuck slightly. Ali threw her full weight against it— just as Matt came alongside.

“Ooomph!” he gasped. The force of it sent him careening down the drainage ditch that ran beside the road.

“Oh, no!” Ali moaned, flinging herself out of the truck after him.

The ground sloped away sharply under her feet. She found herself staggering down the three-foot embankment in an attempt to retain her footing, gaining momentum as she lurched wildly down the slope, only stopping when she crashed into Matt and toppled both of them into the ditch.

“Are you all right?” Matt gasped.

She realized with a shock that he lay under her. She could feel the hardness of his chest, the muscle of his thighs, the heat of his hands beside her breasts. His face was so close to hers that his beard rasped her chin and his breath warmed her cheek. It smelled faintly of root beer and Juicy Fruit gum, a combination she found unexpectedly erotic.