Sultry. Mary Baxter Lynn
almost strangled on his sip of vodka. “What do you think I’ve been doing? Hell, Cooper, I don’t even think she likes me.”
“She doesn’t know what she likes right now.” Cooper scowled. “She’s on this bloody crusade to save all the battered women and their children in Garnet.”
“Great.”
“Only I’m not standing for it, and I told her so.”
“Do you think she’ll mind you?” Peter knew he was being glib, if not disrespectful, but he didn’t care. He was about at his wits’ end, trying to woo Lindsay. But he couldn’t afford to give up. He didn’t have that luxury.
“In the end, she’ll come around,” Cooper said. “She’ll do like she’s told.”
“I’m counting on that.”
“But you have to do your part, you know. Make her want you.”
“I’m aware of that,” Peter snapped, “but for some reason, Lindsay remains immune to my charm.”
“I may be partly responsible for that. I’ve given her a grace period.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’ve backed off from demanding she set a wedding date.”
Peter gave him an incredulous look. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“Yes,” Cooper said in a self-assured tone. “I know how to work my daughter.”
Peter shrugged.
“But in the end, I’ll have my way. She will marry you.”
“Works for me,” Peter quipped, then finished off his drink. “I can’t wait to be a kept man.”
Mitch squeezed the phone receiver so tightly that he felt the pressure on his knuckles. If he weren’t careful, he would break them. And for what—because his ex-wife had called him?
Hell, he didn’t need this aggravation, but short of hanging up on her, he didn’t have much choice. All the more reason why he should not have answered his phone.
Why had he?
“So what’s up, Wendy?” He tried to hold his irritation to a minimum, but wasn’t sure he’d pulled it off.
“Nothing, really.”
He blew out a harsh breath, then forced himself to ask, “So how’ve you been?”
“Not so good, Mitch.”
He wasn’t about to ask her to elaborate. Experience had taught him that. If he dared show any sympathy whatsoever, she took advantage.
“I still miss you lots.”
“Your ploy won’t work, Wendy. For your own sake, you’ve got to stop fanning the embers. They’re stone cold.”
“I refuse to believe that,” she wailed.
“Where’s your husband, Wendy?” he asked in a tired voice. “You are still married, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to call me.”
She hiccuped.
“Ah, I get it. You’re drinking.”
“I see you haven’t changed,” she said, her voice now tainted with unsuppressed venom.
“Look, I’m going to hang up before we both say things we’ll be sorry for. Take care of yourself.”
Once he was off the phone, Mitch felt as if he’d been beaten with a wet rope. Did one’s ex ever completely disappear? He was beginning to think not, though he hadn’t heard from Wendy in quite some time, not since she’d remarried. Apparently that marriage had also gone sour. He hated that, but it had nothing to do with him.
Women. His best recourse was to avoid them, period. Except, maybe, for Lindsay Newman.
An expletive colored the air as Mitch made his way to the sink, where he placed his empty glass. He had to forget her. But how could he, when she kept popping up at the most unexpected times?
What was going on? Were those encounters an accident? Or were they accidentally on purpose? He didn’t have a clue, nor did he want one. Nor did he want to think about her with another man. He would guess she probably had to beat men off with a stick.
Another expletive zinged the air. Maybe if he hadn’t taken a lunch break, he wouldn’t have had time to think. But today the rain had been impossible, so he’d given the hands a break.
No excuse.
Thoughts of her were forbidden. While she made a great package, a package he wouldn’t mind unwrapping were the circumstances different, nothing was going to happen. The reason was obvious: the circumstances weren’t different. So he might as well keep a tight rein on his libido and try his best to ignore her.
Yeah, right, like he could ignore a throbbing tooth-ache.
“Hey, boss, you in there?”
Mitch gave a start at the unexpected voice. Pulling his jeans up a bit higher, he strode to the front door. Jesse stood on the porch, hat in hand.
“We got trouble,” he said.
“How so?”
“A tree’s done gone and fallen across Ms. Newman’s balcony, but she wasn’t hurt.”
Mitch rolled his eyes back in his head. Super. Just what he didn’t need.
Nine
“I cannot believe this,” Lindsay moaned, her chocolate eyes meeting those of the housekeeper.
Dolly was the first to roll hers heavenward. “Don’t you worry none. Mr. Mitch will take care of this mess.”
At the mention of Mitch’s name, Lindsay’s heart suddenly turned over. What would her heart do when he actually got here? No matter—she was glad he was on his way.
Lindsay’s gaze roamed the room. Dolly had called this a mess. Well, that was a gross understatement. The tree, sprawled across the balcony just shy of the French doors leading into her room, was a disaster.
For the past two days it had done nothing but rain—the hard, earth-soaking kind. Still, Lindsay had had no idea that the weather could topple a big oak.
“It could’ve been worse, child.”
“You’re so right, Dolly. It could’ve crashed into my room or hit my computer.” Lindsay shuddered to think about that, because she’d put in so many hours at that screen, working on her project. Of course, she had a backup diskette, but it was beside the computer, which meant it could easily have been destroyed, too.
“It could’ve hit you,” Dolly pointed out. “I’m not worried about some ol’ machine.”
“I am,” Lindsay muttered.
“Do you need me to stay here?” Dolly asked.
“Absolutely not. You go ahead and do whatever you have to do.”
Dolly nodded. “I’ll tell Mr. Cooper to come up when he gets home.”
“Oh, I’m sure you won’t have to. There’ll be more commotion around here than if the alarm had gone off.”
Dolly merely shook her head. “I’ll check on you later.”
“Thanks, love,” Lindsay said, watching the housekeeper waddle out the door.
Once she was alone, Lindsay plopped down on the edge of the bed, wondering how long it would take to clean up all the debris and repair the balcony. Several days, she suspected, since