Deep Autumn Heat (5 page)

Ivana pressed her lips together and barely repressed a sigh as she escorted him back to the waiting car. “You could at least
pretend
to be interested in this,” she murmured. “It’s only your career.”

Seb grunted as Ivana slammed the door. She was right. He wasn’t paying attention and he really should be.

Hiring Ivana Vlatova had been one of his more intelligent decisions. She was knockout gorgeous, which was useful for the art of distraction. She was also cold, ruthless, and utterly brilliant. By the time most people figured that out, she’d run laps around them. Suffice it to say, she usually got what she wanted, which in turn worked well for Seb. More important, she wouldn’t—under any circumstances—sleep with him.

Smart woman.

He slouched down in the seat of the car and glanced sideways at Ivana. As usual, she looked sleek and cold. Her black hair was meticulously arranged in some kind of long sweep to her shoulder blades. She was dressed for business. Or for battle. Sometimes he thought it was the same thing with her. She was staring straight ahead, a neutral expression on her face, which, for Ivana, was a clear indication of disapproval.

“Ivana?”

She turned to him, her artfully cut black suit shifting with her body, her clear blue eyes cutting right through him. “Yes, Sebastian?”

“What’s next?”

“Two properties in Back Bay and one in the Fens close to Fenway Park. I saw the specs the Realtor sent over last week, and one of them looks particularly promising. And Sebastian? I think you need to improve your people skills. Think warm and approachable. We don’t want potential investors or fans thinking you have a major attitude problem.”

Seb grunted again and turned to look out the window. Maybe Ivana was right. He
did
have an attitude. But his career was on an upward trajectory and he sure as hell didn’t want to blow it. Just then, he saw a woman strolling along the street wearing a wine-colored wrap. It reminded him of Lexie’s lips. He wondered if they’d feel smooth and soft pressed up against his own.

He should stay away from her. Cole and Val had clearly warned him off. And the lady herself had made it clear what she thought of him.
Presumptuous
.

What was that supposed to mean, anyway? Of course he was bold and direct. He hadn’t achieved fame and fortune by rolling over and playing dead.

Ah, well, he loved a challenge. Could he turn her frostiness into warmth? Her protestations into moans of passion? She’d be so good, he just knew it. That small, curvy body wrapped around him, tingling with desire instead of stiffening in outrage. That smart mouth whispering words of love instead of tossing retorts. That spark in her eye igniting into flames as he took both of them higher, higher.

“Sebastian? Did you say something?” Ivana questioned.

Had he said something out loud? “No,” he muttered.

“All right. Prepare yourself. We’re almost at the next place.”

And prepare himself he did. He deliberately wiped Lexie from the forefront of his mind. For now, there’d be no more thoughts of her. It was too distracting, and he had work to do. Steeling himself, he stepped out from the car into the chilly air.

* * *

“Here you go, Sebastian,” said Andy Neiman, sliding a tall glass of ice-cold beer to him across the polished oak bar. Andy was the proprietor of the local Star Harbor tavern, the Rusty Nail. “This one’s on the house. It’s good to have you back.”

“Good to be back, Andy,” Seb replied, smiling at Val and Theo, who were sitting next to him. “Cheers.” He picked up the glass and raised it to Andy, then took a sip. Easing back on his high wooden stool, he took a look around the place. He’d last been here three years before and nothing much had changed. John Anson, a middle-aged man who ran the pharmacy, was at one of the sturdy wooden tables lining the wall with Max Wright and his wife, Karen, the couple who owned and managed The Wright Read, the town’s independent bookstore. Luke Bedwin, the owner of Star Harbor Hardware and the town’s unofficial handyman, sat with them. They all looked pretty much the same, just a bit older, with a few more gray hairs. He raised his hand in greeting, and they smiled back at him, something he was sure they’d never have done in his youth.

“Hope you got a lot done today,” Theo said.

“Some,” Sebastian said, taking another sip of beer. “Saw a bunch of properties and spent an hour talking on the phone with my sous chef, Jorge, about the fall menu.”

“Good,” Val said, nodding. “We went on a hike by Harper’s Pond before Cole went on duty. Wish you could have joined us.”

“Me too,” Seb said. Though his fall menu was mostly squared away, the property hunting had been a bust. Not only had he not been able to spend time with his brothers, but he had little to show for his efforts. And there was one other matter he hadn’t gotten the chance to attend to today. Lexie Meyers. He was a disciplined man, but as soon as he let down his guard, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to her. When was the last time he’d been this hung up on a woman?

“They letting tourists in this place now, Andy?” a booming voice sounded through the tavern. “My, how times have changed.”

As Val and Theo chuckled, Sebastian turned and rose to greet one of his oldest friends. “Jimmy Bishop, it’s good to see you again, man.” The two men clasped hands, and then Jimmy enveloped Seb in a bone-crushing hug, embodying his nickname—“The Bear.” Seb looked up at the enormous, blond man. “You gonna rib me for leaving Star Harbor, too?”

“What are friends for?” he responded with a shrug. “Besides, you brought it on yourself, leaving town just when things were getting exciting.”

“Have a seat.”

“I’ll move down,” Theo said, sliding down the bar with his brew.

“Thanks, man,” Seb said, and then turned back to his friend. “You’re looking good, Jimmy.”

“It ain’t easy hauling bowlines all day and scrubbing decks at night,” Jimmy said, easing his huge body onto the small bar stool. “Work keeps me plenty fit.” Which was an understatement. Seb was big, but Jimmy put him to shame—he probably had three inches and forty pounds of pure muscle on him. Jimmy had been a demon as a boy, full of fire and always itching for a fight. An integral part of their gang, he’d been a useful friend to have when he managed to keep his temper under control. “Business is good, though. Three seasons of work keep me busy. Can’t take tourists out in the winter, but I’ll have more time for Emma in the off-season.”

“Speaking of Emma, I have to give you my congratulations. Let me buy you a drink.”

Jimmy’s broad face softened and his blue eyes grew misty. “Thanks. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, you know. After we get married she’s going to work at the Star Harbor Library as their head librarian,” he said proudly. “She has the sweetest smile, and when she looks at me?” He shook his head. “Man, it just makes me glad to be alive.”

Forget his ferocious nickname; Jimmy seemed more like a pussycat than a bear these days. “Sounds like you’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said, “real happy.” He looked back and forth between him and Theo. “If you guys are going to be around, you should come to the wedding. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“It’s in three weeks, right?” Seb asked, glancing at Val, who gave him a slight nod. “I was only planning to stick around until Friday.” He turned back to Jimmy. “But what the hell? It’s an honor to be invited. Jorge’s gonna kill me, but I’ll stay.”

“Professor?” Jimmy asked.

“Can’t,” Theo said ruefully, shaking his head. “I have a flight out Monday back to California. No way I can change it.”

“Sorry ’bout that. But hey, at least I get three of the Grayson brothers.” He wrapped a huge arm around Seb’s shoulders. “So if you’re buying, I’ll take a lager on tap. Can you set me up, Andy?”

“Sure thing,” the older man said. “Here you go,” he said, handing Jimmy the drink. “Seb, I’d put it on your tab, but I don’t know if you’ll be around long enough for me to collect.” His lips were pressed together in barely contained mirth.

“Hilarious,” Seb said in a tone that meant anything but. “I’ll pay you now.” He reached for his wallet.

“Good man.” Jimmy pounded him on the back in thanks and Seb picked up his own glass. “Now drink up. Promised Emma I’d meet her back at her aunt’s house later tonight. Cheers, old friends.”

“Cheers.” The four men clinked glasses and drank deeply. Out of the corner of his eye, Seb saw Ashley Flitt, one of Cole’s ex-girlfriends, walk into the tavern. Poured into tight jeans and a slinky top, she gave Seb a long, appraising look. Ignoring her, he focused on his drink. He wasn’t in town for that long, and he wanted to make the most of the time he had. That definitely didn’t include having a fling with one of Cole’s old flames. But there was another reason why he wasn’t interested. The LMK wasn’t that far away from the Nail. Was it his imagination or could he detect the faint aroma of freshly baked coconut cake?

Suddenly, he was glad that Jimmy needed to head out early. He wanted to get back to the relative privacy of Val’s boat. It was time to make a professional game plan. And dream about Lexie.

Lexie woke up on Saturday to the gentle rustle of the reeds by Harper’s Pond. A heron called out, its cry echoing through the woods. In a few months, the birds would be gone and the reeds blanketed with snow, leaving the pond quiet and still for the winter. She loved these crisp fall mornings.

Dim pre-dawn light shone into her room. Her home was a one-story cottage with two bedrooms, a small study, and a well-laid-out kitchen that opened up into a tiny sitting room. The whole place couldn’t have been much more than a thousand square feet, but to her, it was as spacious as a Marin County mansion

She’d spent more than a few years living in a large college house in Berkeley with ten other people while she was in school and working part-time as a volunteer in the kitchen at Chez Panisse, Alice Waters’s famous restaurant. Despite the size of the house, space had been at a premium and privacy had been nonexistent. Her housemates—mostly artist types—had brought people home at all hours of the day and night. Sometimes their “guests” had stayed for weeks, or even months. It all got old fast—stepping over people in the morning to get from her futon to the bathroom, dealing with messy cleanups after meals for twenty, the sheer volume of noise, and the piles of garbage outside the back door.

She didn’t miss it at all. After leaving, she’d vowed never to have a roommate again for as long as she lived.

“Aahh,” she sighed, stretching her arms out in her comfortable, oversized bed. Even though she was a small woman, she loved her large bed. And she’d slept very, very well, despite—or maybe because of—her exhausting day yesterday. She glanced over at the clock. Five in the morning on the button. She’d get up, get ready, and—she squinted outside, gauging the weather—walk to work.

As she prepared for the day, Lexie felt her thoughts drift back to a certain pair of otherworldly green eyes, a strange mix of light green, amber, and gray, and the steady gaze that went along with them.

“Keep your eyes on the prize,” she mumbled to herself around her toothbrush. “Don’t let him knock you off your game.”

Lexie dressed in a plum-colored blouse and a swingy cranberry skirt, and then tugged on a pair of sneakers, tossing her kitchen clogs into her tote bag for later. She threw on a suede jacket and slipped out the front door, locking it securely behind her.

Stepping briskly into the damp morning air, she began the two-mile trek to Star Harbor’s downtown area. Harper’s Pond Road, the street she lived on, was the longest stretch she had to walk. It hadn’t been repaved in years, and as a result, it was riddled with holes. Small bits of gravel lay on each side of the road and down the middle, acting as the center line.

Lexie walked along in the quiet, the only other sounds the crunch of her shoes on the pavement and the herons calling out to each other by the pond. She took a deep breath of the early September air, inhaling the aromas of the sea and freshly cut grass. Autumn was her favorite time of year in Star Harbor.

The picturesque little Cape Cod town had once been a sleepy fishing village. It was now enjoying a kind of resurgence, tempting artists, craftsmen, and even young families who wanted a change of pace. Its quaint loveliness and charm were big draws, and Lexie had been noticing more and more new faces in her restaurant.

A quick glance at her watch told her she was making good time. At this rate, she’d be at the Kitchen by five forty-five to form the pastries from the dough she’d made the night before. Lexie always baked more for the weekends, anticipating a larger crowd. Mentally, she ran through her checklist of everything she needed to get done before the place opened.

Lexie turned down a side street—an alleyway, really—so that she could enter the kitchen through the service door. She always kept the front door of the restaurant locked until it was time to welcome her customers. When her field of vision widened, she stopped short.

There in the dimly lit alleyway, with his long frame leaning against a dark motorcycle, was none other than Sebastian Grayson, the very man she’d been hoping to avoid. He was wearing blue jeans today, but he still sported a tight black T-shirt under his leather jacket. His head was bent over a book and he was reading it intently, not noticing that she was just ten feet away.

Lexie cleared her throat. At the sound, Seb looked up and shut his book quickly, jamming it into an inner pocket of his jacket.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a big grin.

“Hi,” Lexie responded warily.

Seb didn’t speak. He just pushed himself off the motorcycle with a large hand and stood there, staring at her. Immediately, her relaxed mood vanished, and a hot mixture of anticipation and nervousness swept over her. Inwardly, she groaned. She didn’t need this today.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms under her chest.

“I came to see you. Where’s your car?”

“I walked to work, and I meant what are you
doing
here? In Star Harbor. Why are you hacking around this little town when you could be in New York City building your empire?”