Suddenly in Love (Lake Haven#1) (7 page)

“Hey, come on, I’m not as bad as you think,” he said, and unthinkingly touched her arm.

She recoiled from his touch, grabbing her bag and clutching it tightly to her.

“What?” Brennan asked, casting his arms open. “I said I was sorry.”

Her gaze flicked over him. “Should I be honest?” she asked, backing away from him.

“Sure, be honest. Be totally freaking honest.”

“You seem kind of crazy.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. Maybe he did seem a little crazy to someone who didn’t know who he was. Hell, he’d been feeling a little crazy the last few weeks. “I’m not crazy, but I will concede that I may appear a little bit strange to someone who doesn’t know me.”

“A
little
?”

“I’m not
that
strange,” he said defensively. “Trust me, I have a good reason.”

“Whatever you say.” She stepped farther away from him.

“Take it easy,” he said. “It’s not like I have a communicable disease.”

She arched a dubious brow.

“Will you lighten up? I’m not going to touch you. I’m not going to give you any reason to touch me. You don’t have to back off like you’re afraid of me.”

“I’m not
afraid
of you,” she scoffed. A little too quickly, actually.

Brennan frowned. “Why are you acting like I’ve got Ebola? I’m sorry I looked at your book, okay?” He held up his palms. “Truce.”

She didn’t speak.

Brennan sighed with exasperation.
“What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s obviously something.”

She shrugged again and gripped her bag more tightly, backing up another step. “It’s your T-shirt.”

He glanced down. “Yeah, it’s old. So it’s got a couple of holes. And a couple of stains. Okay, a lot of stains.” This shirt suddenly looked a lot dirtier than it had when he put it on.

“And, perhaps you don’t know it, but . . . you stink.”

Brennan looked up. “Excuse me?”

“You
stink
,” she said again. She’d made it almost to the kitchen door.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, curious now.

“I don’t know how else to say it. You smell.”

Brennan looked at her blankly. In all his life, no one had ever said something like that to him. Never.

“Ohmigod, are you going to make me say it again? Let’s just put it this way—if there were gas masks lying around, I’d be wearing one. Look, I’m sorry, Mr. Yates, fire me if you want, but I don’t want to get any closer to you. You’re rude and you stink and I really think you need to know that.”

“Wow, okay,” he said, nodding. “Anything else, Miss Perfect?”

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully, studying him now. “I already mentioned the crazy part. No, I think that’s it. Crazy, stinky, and rude. Have a good day, Mr. Yates.” With that, she turned and disappeared into the hallway. He heard her rubber-soled shoes on the tile as she hurried away from him, heard the front door open, heard it close behind her.

Brennan remained seated, staring at the space where she’d just been. He couldn’t smell himself. But his hair did feel a little slick. He glanced down at his clothes, grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt, and bent over to have a sniff.

God
,
that was awful.

Brennan tried to remember the last time he’d showered. Day before yesterday? Three days ago? Longer?
Wow
. He used to be fairly fastidious about hygiene. But since he’d slid into this dark hole . . .

Crazy, stinky, and rude.

A smile slowly spread across Brennan’s face. He could feel it cracking him open bit by bit, a screwdriver to the lid of a rusty old paint can. When
was the last time someone was completely straight with him? Or someone
didn’t have an agenda? The woman in the knit hat had made him smile.

Yeah, he was going to go get something to eat, drive around a bit. But first, he was going to take a shower. He thought of Mia again, of how angry she’d been with him for looking at her sketches—which, admittedly, he deserved. That
was
rude.

But then he thought of the knuckle-dragging ape she’d drawn and chuckled.

Seven

Mia waited outside the gate so she wouldn’t have to chat it up with Drago while she waited for Wallace. Not that she minded talking to him—but today, her head was spinning around Brennan Yates. Mia had known a lot of summer people in her life, but she had never known one who was so disgusting and rude . . . and yet, could be so
hot
if he would clean up a bit. How did
that
happen, anyway? How did a man with privileges that most people only dreamed about end up looking like a street bum?

Whatever the reason, Mia was done with the Ross house. She wasn’t coming back here. She didn’t feel at all comfortable with George of the Jungle hulking around in the shadows.

She could hear a car coming up Juneberry Road, and stood up, expecting it to be Wallace. But a white Range Rover appeared and slowed as it reached Mia. A dark window rolled down. “Hey girl!” Nancy called out cheerfully, as if they were chums. She was wearing tennis togs and a sun visor, although Mia could have sworn she’d left Ross house this morning in a dress and sandals. “Are you finished so soon?”

“Yes, ma’am. I just had to get a couple of pictures, that’s all.”

Nancy’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? You look very unhappy.”

“I do?” Mia asked, surprised.

“Terribly,” Nancy said, nodding. “I hope none of the workers or Drago—”

“No, no,” Mia said quickly. The workers she’d encountered the last few days had all been very polite to her, and Drago had never been anything but completely respectful. “It wasn’t any of them.”

“Then who was it?” Nancy asked, her gaze narrowing.

Oh, Mia was so stupid. Why hadn’t she just said no? “Ummm . . .” She glanced back at the house. She might as well say it. Might as well put it out there so Nancy would understand when she didn’t come back. She winced a little as she turned to Nancy and said, “I hate to say it, but I had a little run-in with your son.”

“Oh
Lord
,” Nancy said, and suddenly dropped her head to the steering wheel. She sat up again. “You know, I should have told you he was passing through. My bad,” she said, patting her chest. “I didn’t think he’d be here
this
long, you know? He never stays so long. But . . . well, just between us girls . . .” She paused and looked through the gates at the house.

Mia did, too, if only to assure herself Crazypants hadn’t walked up and heard her.

“He’s not himself,” she whispered very loudly. “He didn’t say anything, did he?”

“Say anything?”

“About . . . anything,” Nancy said vaguely and dramatically, as if he were hiding a body up there. Nothing would surprise Mia at this point.

He’d said a lot—but not about anything that Mia could actually recall just then.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Nancy said quickly.

Holy shit, what did
that
mean? “About the smell?” she asked carefully.

“You noticed it, too?” his mother exclaimed. “I thought maybe there was a sewer problem. But no, not that. He won’t talk about the bad breakup he went through recently.”

That was it?
That
was the big hush-hush? It wasn’t the least bit surprising—when someone smelled and acted like that, the bigger surprise was that he’d had a girlfriend or wife at all.

“Not to excuse him,” Nancy added quickly, waving her hand at Mia, “but it was bad. She
cheated
on him,” she added in another loud whisper, as if Brennan could hear them all the way back at the house. “Openly, too. For the world to see, so to speak.”

Okay, well, Mia had been through a breakup or two, and she knew how it stung. But that didn’t mean—

“You’re probably too young to appreciate how painful it is to end a long-term love, sweetie. Sometimes people lose their way when that happens, you know?”

“I’m not that young,” Mia said, but Nancy was right. She’d never had a long-term love. Somewhere along the way, Mia had learned that if she got too close to anyone, eventually, they would want her to change. “I’ve had relationships fail,” she said defensively.

“Oh sure,” Nancy said. “But this one was really deep. More painful than your run-of-the-mill thing.”

Was she implying that Mia’s relationships were run of the mill? Was she supposed to say it was okay that he smelled and was rude because someone had cheated on him?

“I’m just saying that it was very bad,” Nancy said, almost as if she could read Mia’s mind. “I’m not asking you to excuse him, but he’s definitely not himself. He’s usually such a nice man, a
good
man. He didn’t say anything offensive, did he?”

“Not exactly
offensive
,” Mia said, feeling almost guilty for being appalled by him.

“That’s a relief!” Nancy smiled. “We’ll have to make it up to you the next time you’re back. Oh goodness, look at the time! I really have to run, sweetie. Talk soon!” she said breezily, and rolled her window up before shooting up the drive, cheerful and busy again.

These people were flat-out
nuts
.

Ten minutes later, Wallace arrived, the van sputtering as it came up the hill. “Well?” he demanded as Mia climbed into the van. “Did you get the all-important photos?”

“Of course.”

“A lot of good those pictures are going to do us now. I told Beverly
she
ought to come up here, but your aunt puts bids together about as well as she does floral arrangements—she
doesn’t.
Now, how was your day? Did you see the semi-hideous son?”

“Boy, did I,” Mia said, and on the way back to the shop, told Wallace about her encounter with him today.

They’d pulled into the back lot behind the shop as Mia finished. Wallace said, “Don’t worry about it, kid. Trust me, we’ll lose the biggest job to come to East Beach in a decade because of Beverly’s disorganization, and you won’t have to see the cretin again. Go on in, don’t wait for me. I have to get some things,” he said as he dug through some papers on the console between the seats.

Mia walked in the back door of the shop and into the darkened storeroom. She sneezed at the overwhelming scent of potpourri. She was fumbling for a light when the door to the showroom suddenly flew open and florescent light from the shop flooded into the storeroom.
“Mia!”

Startled, Mia squinted in the direction of the voice.

Her cousin Skylar materialized before her, grinning, her arms wide.

“
Skylar?
Where did you come from? When did you get here?”

“Last night.” Skylar threw her arms around Mia and hugged her, then stepped back, her gaze traveling down Mia’s clothes. “Now there’s a look,” she said with a giggle. “Never let it be said that my cousin has a dull imagination. I keep thinking that after all the flak you took in high school, someday you might scale it back.”

“Thanks,” Mia said. She would have pointed out that Skylar was one to talk, but Skylar would take issue. Her blonde hair was long and choppy, as if someone had taken scissors to it at different times. She had a nose ring and the ink of what Mia thought was a new tattoo was peeking out from beneath the long sleeves of her T-shirt.

“Where have you been, anyway?” Mia asked.

“Here. There. Everywhere.” Skylar shrugged. “Along for the ride, you know?”

No, Mia really didn’t know. “Aunt Bev didn’t say you were coming.”

“That’s because I didn’t tell her until I rolled into town last night. But she’s so freaked out about this job with the Ross house right now, I don’t think she really knows I’m even here.”

“Just passing through?” Mia asked, sounding a little more hopeful than she intended.

“Yeah, of course. Always passing through. I’ll probably be here for the summer unless something better comes up.”

Mia’s heart sank. When Skylar was around, there was always trouble, and Mia sucked at deflecting it.

“I definitely want to be here for the Lake Haven Music Festival. I’ll be living with the ’rents,” she said. “Just like you, right? Isn’t that wild? Whoever would have thought we’d
both
end up back here in this dump of a town?”

Mia didn’t like the idea that she and Skylar were anything alike. Skylar never settled anywhere for long, never held onto a job for more than a minute. She’d been running for years, running away from home the first time when she was fifteen years old. Mia loved Skylar on some level, but during the summer of her senior year, it had all ended in disaster because Mia
wasn’t
like her cousin. Not even close.

Wallace walked in at that moment, and at the sight of Skylar, he stopped dead in his stride. He scowled.

“Hello, Wallace!” Skylar said brightly. “I bet you’re super happy to see me. Am I right?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Wallace drawled. “What cat dragged
you
in?”

“Oh, come on,” Skylar said, and threw her arms around Wallace, giving him a bear hug, too. “I’ve actually missed you, you old meanie.”

“I’m very serious—what are you doing here?” he demanded. “And I don’t mean East Beach, I mean in this store.”

“I’m going to answer phones,” Skylar said proudly. “We’ve actually had a call this morning, can you believe it?”

“What do you mean?” Wallace demanded.

“I
mean
, when it rings, I pick it up and say, ‘Hello, John Beverly Home Interiors and Landscape Design, how may I help you?
’
”

Wallace huffed impatiently. “Are you answering phones for a short while today? Or will we have the pleasure of your company longer than that?”

“Oh,
longer
,” Skylar said, clearly as delighted as Mia to torment Wallace. She looped her arm through Mia’s. “Don’t look so pissed, Wallace! Remember how much fun we had last time I was here?”

“
No
, I do not,” he said gruffly. “Well isn’t this just fantastic? John Beverly’s Home for Wayward Girls,” he groused as he stalked past them into the shop.

Skylar laughed. “He’s such a queen.”

“Really, you’re going to work here?” Mia asked, feeling just as stunned as Wallace. It was one thing that Skylar was in the same town, same family. It was something else entirely if she was in the same work space.

“Sure! Why not?” Skylar asked. “Geez, don’t look so worried. This is going to be
loads
of fun.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a joint, holding it up so that Mia could see it, then slid the joint back in her pocket.

Mia stared at Skylar.

“Don’t be a wimp, Mia!” Skylar said, and put her arm around Mia’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s catch up. I have
so
much to tell you.”