Dealing with Annie Read online

  AFTER SCOTT LEFT, Ian let himself into Annie’s house. As before, it was neat and tidy as a pin, with everything in its place, smelling like lemon oil.

  He was fairly certain Thomas didn’t use lemon oil to dust. He was fairly certain Thomas didn’t dust.

  Here, every room had happy, healthy plants that looked to be thriving.

  The one pot of flowers at Thomas’s place sat on the kitchen windowsill, dead as a doorknob.

  Annie’s living room had an antique canoe flat against one wall, used for a shelf that held books. The rock fireplace was unique, with some Native American artifacts decorating the stone shelves. The curtains were lacy and drawn back to let the daylight in. The richly detailed room brought to mind elegance and sophistication—the virtual opposite of Thomas’s.

  Both the kitchen and living room were empty, so he helped himself and climbed the stairs, cursing only slightly at his aching leg. There was a pillowed nook halfway up, with a book facedown, as if someone had recently been sitting there reading. He could see Annie there, her long hair flowing around her shoulders, her lips parted—

  Down, boy.

  The kiss had been one of his more stupid moves, since he couldn’t get it out of his head now. He wondered if Annie was having the same problem.

  He found them in Aunt Gerdie’s bedroom, Annie busily tucking a comforter around the older woman, who was in a four-poster bed surrounded by a mountain of fluffy pillows.

  He stood in the doorway, watching as Annie leaned in and kissed her aunt’s cheek, fussing with the covers, babbling as she made her aunt comfortable. “I’ll bring you tea later, and something hot to eat, and then—”

  Gerdie put a hand on Annie’s. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Just rest—”

  “I know how much work I am,” Gerdie whispered. “And you’re so busy—”

  “Now, you just stop.”

  “I’m such a burden—”

  “No. Never.” Annie touched Aunt Gerdie’s cheek. “I don’t want to hear any more talk like that. My God, you’re my only true family. You raised me when everyone else just walked away.”

  “Oh, Annie…”

  “I love you, Aunt Gerdie, so much.”

  As they embraced, Ian knew he should move away, give them their privacy, but he stood riveted to the spot as something deep within him softened.

  Had he ever been so totally responsible for someone? Taken care of them, put their needs first, no matter what?

  No, he had to admit, he hadn’t. He’d grown up with a warm, loving, bossy mother, and a strict but equally warm, loving, bossy father, and they’d been there for him every step of his childhood and beyond. If they’d had any idea how bad his leg had been, if he’d even told them he’d been shot, they’d be here right now, breathing fire down his neck to rest and get better.

  But never in his life had he had to do anything for them in return. He’d never had to nurse anyone back to health, had never had to care for any living soul other than himself.

  The very opposite of Annie’s life.

  Always, he’d kept work and his family separate. So separate he could see now that he’d missed out on something.

  “Now, you just rest,” Annie whispered to Aunt Gerdie with a sweet smile as she pulled back. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

  The women in Ian’s life had all been around the block a time or two, and overtly sexy. None of them had been soft, warm and gentle, not a single one out of the bunch. He’d never wanted a woman like that.

  So why the hell did his heart clench just looking at Annie? Why was he swallowing a large lump of emotion in his throat? Why was he thinking about her all the time, wanting to be with her?

  Walk away, you idiot. Just turn around and walk out.

  Go home.

  And not home to the farm across the road, either, where he’d face a growling pig and an older brother who thought they knew it all.

  He meant he should get the hell out of Cooper’s Corner, away from wide-open spaces and no damn noise. He should go back to New York where it was noisy and crowded—his two favorite things. That was where he belonged.

  There, he could lick his wounds in his own damn apartment, in his own environment. And, anyway, his leg was feeling better, much better. In fact, that desk job he’d turned his nose up at was looking damn good, especially if he didn’t have to do anything more than sit. Yeah, he could sit just fine. He could be back at work in no time at all, assuming he could talk Commander Dickhead—er, Commander Richards—out of his remaining three weeks of leave.

  Bur he just stood there, watching Annie.

  * * *

  ANNIE KISSED AUNT GERDIE, then stood up. And jumped a little at the sight of Ian lounging in the doorway. Apparently she was more on edge than she thought if simply looking at the man could make her jump.

  “Is she okay?” he murmured when she walked toward him.

  She held a finger to her lips and moved out of the room. He followed her, and as he did, she became vibrantly aware of him behind her, tall and silent, big and bad, ready for anything. She could feel him studying her, feel his intensity, and in spite of herself, a little shiver ran down her spine.

  She kept going, down the steps, through the living room to the kitchen, where she was planning on having a hot cup of tea, possibly laced with Aunt Gerdie’s secret stash of fine liquor. She wasn’t a drinker, but thought maybe that could change today.

  “She’ll be fine after a nap,” she said when she heard Ian limp into the room behind her. “She’s tired.”

  When he just looked at her, his eyes filled with understanding, she sighed. “She’s getting tired more and more.”

  “She’s getting up there in years.”

  “I don’t want to think about it.”

  “What you do with her…taking care of her and everything…it’s pretty amazing.”

  “She’s family.”

  “Not everyone would do it.” He gestured to a chair. “Sit down, Annie. We need to talk.”

  “Uh-oh.” She headed for the stove and put water on to boil. “That sounds serious, you wanting to talk.”

  “Are you going to sit?”

  She turned and faced him, her big, tough, unbearably sexy neighbor with the unsmiling eyes and grim mouth. “Are you?”

  He let out an annoyed sound—a patented Ian sound that came from deep in his throat. “Are you always this difficult?”

  She considered that and had to smile. “Pretty much.”

  “Fine.” He pulled out a chair and gratefully sank into it, stretching out his bad leg. Then gestured to the next chair. “Now you.”

  “This must be bad.” She found her hands shaking as she pulled out a chair and sat. “All right, let’s get it over with.”

  “Officer Hunter just told me about two other cars that had their tires slashed yesterday like yours. He said they were done by two high school boys. The cars were owned by the mothers of the two girls who’d dumped the boys the day before.”

  Annie’s stomach fell as the implications of that sank in. “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “I’m not an idiot, Ian. Obviously I’m not the mother of an errant high school girl, and therefore neither of these boys had any motive for slashing my tires.”

  “Exactly.”

  She glanced down at her hands, which were still shaking. What she needed was the calming body lotion she’d been working on earlier, the aromatherapy-based softener, scented to soothe the nerves.

  She probably needed the entire batch.

  “So…” Ian tapped his fingers on the table and looked at her. “We’re back to the same question. Who wants to hurt you?”

  “The thought of anyone being after me seems pretty out there.”

  “Heard from Dennis again?”

  “No.”

  “What do you think he wants?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Could he want you back?”

  She laugh