Granddad's House (On Geneva Shores) (20 page)

“Well. I’m fine, as you can see. You don’t need to worry that I’m going to, as you so quaintly put it, ‘kick the bucket’ before your deal is done.” No way was she going to repeat that other word he’d used. “So you can leave now. Go back to those orders, whatever they were.”

He gave her a smart salute. “Yes, ma’am.” He Questionsed around and headed for the door. “Glad to hear that my realtor’s okay.”

Ooh! How could he act like that?! Just when
she thought he might have wanted to make sure
she
was okay. She slammed her desk drawer, almost catching a finger in her haste. She needed to go home. A long soak in bubble bath would soothe her nerves. And a big cup of hot cocoa with melted marshmallows to warm her insides. Anything to get his smirk out of her mind. Except that his hug and how it had felt returned, warming her without benefit of marshmallows. She kept replaying how much she had wanted him to do that again, maybe with a kiss or two thrown in for good measure. But she wasn’t supposed to get personal with a client. The rest of her kept clamoring that she already was, that her set-in-cement rule had already been smashed to smithereens.

A week later Olivia parked her car as the moving van backed into her grandfather’s driveway. The rooms in his home looked increasingly bereft as they were slowly emptied.

“Be careful with that chair, young man. It’s my wife’s favorite,” her grandfather said to one of the movers.

Olivia wandered over to stand near him.

“Is that kid old enough to move my furniture?” he whispered. “I doubt he’s even shaving!”

She gave him a hug. “Granddad, we hired him for his muscles. Let’s stay out of their way. The movers know what they’re doing.” She walked him out to the backyard. “We’re supposed to hear next week if the permits have been approved. So it won’t be long before this house is sold to Beau, or the other people.”

“I know. It’s been a long time, having to wait all summer. You sure those other folks are still interested?”

She nodded. “I talked with Bruce about it. He says they’ve been looking at other places, but yours is still their favorite. Let’s go out for coffee while the movers work.”

“But I wanted to clean up after them, so the place still looks nice.”

“You don’t have to. I’ve already called the cleaning people we use at the office. They’re scheduled to come over this afternoon to go over the rugs and the counters and everything. Besides, don’t you want to go to your new place so you can tell the movers where to put your things?” She walked him back into the house.

His eyes looked tired when he gazed back at her. “I
s’pose you’re right. Maybe I should concentrate on that.” He pointed to a spot previously hidden by the china hutch. “Look there. Where did that rip in the wallpaper come from?”

“I don’t know. I’ll look into that. Come on. Let’s park your car in your new garage and then we’ll go to Coffee Delight.”

He followed her out to his car. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Livvy. I hope you know that.”

She nodded and kissed his cheek.

An hour later the moving truck was snugged up to the curb in front of the condo and the men were hauling furniture inside. Her grandfather was telling them where to put things. Olivia approached the man who seemed to be in charge. 

“If you could have your men place the boxes in the closets. I marked them all for the right rooms. That would be a big help.”

He nodded and passed the word to his men. When the truck was emptied, Olivia sat down at the kitchen table and looked into the backyard.

“Granddad, your new little garden is crying out for you to take it in hand. If you’ll stay here for just a minute, I need to get something out of my car.”

She returned, carrying two rose bushes, their root balls still encased in plastic. “I have two more in the trunk. Let me get them.” She brought in two more rose bushes and set them down. “I knew these were your favorites, so I went around to the nurseries until I found the same ones.  Now it’s up to you to make them happy here.”

“You are a gem, honey, to think of that.” Her grandfather’s eyes filled as he gave her a hug. “I think I’ll give them a good soaking today and worry about the planting tomorrow. I’m kind of tired.”

“A good idea. If you could open that one box on the counter, we can eat dinner. I put some plates and silverware in there—enough for us tonight, so you don’t have to hunt while you’re getting settled. If you set the table, I’ll get our dinner.”

“Don’t you want me to cook?”

“No, and I’m tired, too. I called in an order at the deli. I just have to pick it up.”

When she returned to her grandfather’s condo, voices could be heard from the back of the unit. She placed the deli bags on the kitchen counter and followed the sound. Beau was laughing at something her grandfather had said. Both men turned at her approach.

“Look who came over with a bottle of wine and a fruit basket, Livvy. Now wasn’t that nice?”

“Yes, very nice.”

Beau smiled at her. “Hello, Olivia. You’re looking good.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond and self-consciously ran one hand along the leg of her oldest jeans, where a side seam had opened up above one knee when she was moving the rose bushes out of her car. When a long curl slipped from behind her ear and across her face, she blew it out of the way.

“But I’m not sure the wine glasses are unwrapped yet.”

“Not to worry. I brought some.” Beau handed her a foursome, obviously new. “Let me help.” He walked back into the kitchen and reached for the grocery bag she was still holding as she glanced up at him, taking in his open-necked shirt, its sleeves rolled above his elbows. His jeans hugged his thighs, emphasizing his slim waist and those extra-long legs.
Regardless of what he wears … really hot eye candy.
No wonder women buzz around him like bees.

“
Aren’t you happy to see me, darlin’?” he crooned while her grandfather wandered the small backyard. “I figured you’d be tired from helping your grandfather move all day—”

“Don’t call me that. And how did you know where I’d be?”

“I called your office. Word from the permit gods is supposed to be in writing on my desk by Monday at the earliest, Wednesday at the latest. I thought you’d want to know that. And,” his eyes sparkling at her, he added, “I know how much you like white wine, so I thought we’d celebrate your grandfather’s move into his new place. Those roses you picked out should look great once he plants them. Were you the one who brought in the corner shrub with the big blue blossoms?”

“It’s a hydrangea.” Her body was humming and her throat felt tight. If only her heart would stay where it belonged instead of climbing into her throat. She nodded then shook her head. “Granddad picked it out himself, an hour after we got word this place had closed. Two days ago.”

“I can see where you get your penchant for organization. It looks like he’s half moved in already. No boxes in sight except for this one on the counter.”

She felt like she was floating. But if he touched her, she was sure she would fall to the ground. “I told the movers to shove them in the closets, so Granddad wouldn’t have to look at them.” She shook her head. “That reminds me. I have to make up his bed. I’ll be right back.” 

She needed space to start breathing again and escaped to the master bedroom, relieved that the movers had reassembled the bed without her having to ask. She opened the box she had marked “Fresh Linens” and began making up the bed. She was pulling a pillowcase onto a pillow when Beau entered the room.

She backed up, clutching the pillow to her chest. He lounged against the doorjamb as he looked at her, boldly scanning her from head to toe. “Why’d you leave like that? Afraid I was going to do something? Like hug you? Or kiss you?” He smiled at her and walked closer.

Her hands came up and she opened her mouth to say something when he took a step forward and pressed two fingers against her parted lips.

“Don’t say a word, Olivia. I’ll do the talking. Better yet, I’d like to show you how I feel. Except that your grandpa might interrupt. Even though you have this nonsensical rule about not
mixing business with pleasure, and I represent ongoing business at the moment. I also represent pleasure yet to be enjoyed. One of these days we’re going to change that, now aren’t we?”

She was certain she had stopped breathing. What was it about that low Southern drawl of his that melted her insides? Was he imagining what she was thinking? His green eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. She was burning up from the inside out. The pillow slid out of her hands and onto the floor as she leaned in Beau’s direction, aching for a kiss, for more than his fingers against her lips. In spite of that blasted rule of hers.

But before she could reach out to touch him, he turned and left the room. She bent down to pick up the pillow, fluffed it and placed it on the bed next to the other pillow.  Now Granddad could sleep tonight. She doubted she would.

In a vain attempt to cool her superheated core and stop the butterflies running riot between her ribs, she splashed her face with cold water before returning to the kitchen, where Beau and her grandfather were laying out the food she had brought. She cut up several pieces of fruit from Beau’s gift basket to adorn a plate in the center of the table.

Olivia listened while the two men bantered back and forth. She picked at her food and sipped the wine, careful not to drink more than half a glass. Beau studiously ignored her, giving his entire attention to her grandfather. When the meal was concluded and Beau left after offering another round of congratulations, she turned to her grandfather.

“I’ve made up your bed and you’ve got enough food and things here to take care of breakfast. If you want me to help you unpack the rest of the place, just call me. I only have one appointment tomorrow.”

“No need, Livvy. I’m sure I can take care of things just fine. I’m going to concentrate on the roses tomorrow and maybe do one room at a time. As long as I can watch
Questions
and beat those contestants to the punch, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me. Beau said we should hear from the permit people real soon. Call me when you know about that. Give me a hug and go on home. You deserve a good night’s sleep.”

She nodded and left. Beau’s words … “pleasure yet to be enjoyed.” Were they a threat or a promise? Her body buzzed with anticipation. One thing was certain. He was interested in her, and she could no longer deny that she wanted to explore how interested she was in him. But did he represent adventure, maybe even danger—or a promise of the kind of future she had always wanted? Uncertainty threaded her desire with additional fire. How could she possibly relax enough to sleep if she couldn’t get him and his words out of her mind?

She finally stopped checking the clock sometime after two a.m.

Chapter 12

Two days later, Genevieve opened Olivia’s office door. “Go right on in, Mr. James.”

Beau saw the flash of surprise when Olivia glanced at him, then back in the direction of her desk.

“I thought I emailed you the signed Purchase and Sale Agreement.”

You’re not looking at me. Why is that, sweet Olivia?
Apparently, she didn’t want him to see that hunger in her eyes.
Business, man.
Stick to business. Pleasure later.
“You did. I received it. Thank you.” Beau took a seat in the nearby chair.

“Then why are you here?” Olivia continued staring at the computer screen, her fingers tapping the keys sporadically.

Why did she look so good in anything she wore? Business suits, that frothy thing she’d had on at their dinner-between-friends, that bikini at the beach. Even better in nothing at all?
He cleared his throat as he sought to tamp down the building internal heat while he gazed at her. “I have a favor to ask.”

Her blue eyes darkened. “A favor?”

Thinking about making ours a personal relationship, Beautiful? What I said to you at your grandfather’s place?
“My education is lacking in a certain element.” He paused to draw out the suspense. “I’ve never been to Mount Rainier.”

A funny look played over her face and she bit her lower lip. He looked forward to nibbling it, too. 

“And?” Her voice wavered slightly.

“Your grandfather said you used to work there.”

“That was a long time ago.” Those blue eyes of hers were locked on his chest, right about where his tie bar was located. Her eyes squinted slightly when they rose again and she blushed when she met his gaze. “I did promise Granddad,” she muttered quietly.

“Are you sorry I’m asking?”

She ignored the question and plinked some keys on her desktop then straightened in her chair. “Okay. When do you want to see the mountain?”

“This weekend would work for me if you’re free—or are you doing one of those open houses? It’s supposed to be sunny.”

She brushed a curl behind her ear and hit the print button, her eyes never once glancing up from the monitor. “It takes two hours to get there, and another two hours to get back. One hour there will show you what you need to know. I’m supposed to help Granddad in the new garden and then have dinner with him—we do that almost every Saturday. But if we leave no later than ten, I can get back here in time to see him, even if there’s traffic. Can you leave that early?”

“My, you are organized, aren’t you?” He nodded then said, “I’ll pick you up on the dot of ten.” He turned on his heel and left her office before she could say another word.

On Saturday morning, Beau pulled up in front of Olivia’s town house. She was waiting on the porch, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail, a jean jacket over her arm and hiking boots on her feet.  Her khaki shorts and shirt looked to him like a uniform, but he saw no insignia. She lifted a picnic basket off the step and approached his car.

“Is there room for this on that sorry excuse for a backseat?”

“Don’t insult my car. You know it’s a two-seater. And you’ve used that little bench, even if it’s mostly reserved for small dogs and briefcases—or picnic baskets. You look like you’re going to start yodeling any minute now.” He chuckled.

“Maybe. I love Mount Rainier.” She climbed into the car and buckled her seat belt. “Turn left and go south on the freeway,” she directed, giving him barely a glance.

“Yes, ma’am.” Beau turned up the radio and they took off. After several miles, he looked over at her.
She seemed relaxed.
Good.
“I have a proposition for you.”

She pursed her lips and raised one eyebrow, as a finger tapped nervously against one knee.

Wrong choice of words.
“Let me rephrase. I’d like to suggest that we forget that I made an offer on your grandfather’s place, now that it’s completed. No more business relationship. Can you do that?” Before she could reply, he added, “Can we be friends—like we were when we went to dinner? Friends going for a ride to Mount Rainier?” How much sooner would they have reached this point had she not had that ridiculous rule about business and clients?

She shrugged. “Maybe.” She turned down the radio, and closed her eyes, her lashes standing out against the pale pink of her cheeks.

“Are you not feeling well?” he asked.

Her eyes still closed, she replied, “Why do you ask?”

“The last time you rode in this car with your eyes closed, you were green around the gills and looked like you were going to lose whatever was in your stomach the minute you got home.” He sneaked another look at her and was pleased that she was now eyeing him.

“That was then. This is now. I’m enjoying the breeze from the window and the sun on my face.” She sat back in her seat and closed her eyes again.

“Got it.”
And you don’t want to talk to me.
He smiled.
The better to check you out, Olivia. Or can you feel my eyes taking you in?
He tightened his grip on the Questions so his hands wouldn’t follow where his gaze had strayed.

An hour later they entered the park and drove through a canopy of stately Douglas fir trees that blocked the sun, creating a dappling effect on the road and nearby surroundings.

“Stop the car at the next turn-off,” she said. She was sitting up in her seat, her eyes scanning the scenery as if looking for something. “There,” she pointed.

He pulled off the road, and she climbed out of the car.

“Come on. You wanted to see Mount Rainier. We’ll start here.”

She hiked purposefully ahead of him on a trail into the woods, skirting a stream that widened into a marshy pond.  He ambled along behind her, enjoying the view of her backside.
Delightfully rounded.
He imagined how she would feel when he lifted her into his arms. Her legs looked longer in her shorts than when she’d been dressed in those business suits he’d admired previously. Legs he wanted to stroke and then wrap around him.

Ten more minutes and they had left the pond behind and were angling between large boulders to a lookout that opened onto a vista of a glacier.

She spread her arms wide, not waiting for him to stand next to her. “Your first look at The Mountain. Nisqually Glacier. Look up. See it?”

“Nice,” he said. “I’m going to go stand by that edge over there, closer to the river.” When he reached the edge of the river, he reached down to slide his hands into the rapidly moving water. “How cold is the water?”

She pulled his arm away, alarmed. “No! Don’t do that. Hear that crunching?”

He looked into the milky water sliding past the rocks and sending up sprays of icy water. “You got me.”

“Rocks and if your hand goes between them, it could get broken. What are rocks up here end up being sand downstream. That’s why the water is so milky. This glacier-fed stream is grinding the rocks into tiny pieces. If you tried to walk across, you could break a leg.”

“Glad you told me.” He looked down at her hand resting on his arm, and smiled.  “Thank you, friend.”

She pulled her hand away and walked back to the car. “Time to go, if we’re to get to Paradise in time for lunch.”

“Paradise, is it? What happens there?” He allowed his imagination free rein until the reaction of his nether region became more obvious than he preferred.

She did not answer the question. Instead, she began what sounded like a tour guide’s narration of what they were passing as the car wound its way higher into the hills. When they arrived at their destination, he admired the tall wooden structure in front of him, its high- peaked roof far steeper than he’d expected, a cave of snow providing a unique entrance on one side of the inn.

“Paradise Inn,” she announced. “It’s been here since 1917. Wait till you see the interior. My first year I worked as a maid. The second year I was in the souvenir shop, and my last year, I was a waitress. The tips were great, especially from the midweek people, who usually stayed through one of the weekends. The weekenders, like us, rarely went into the big dining room and never tipped very well. We had names for them.”

“I’ll bet you did.” He reached for her hand as they walked toward the snow cave, pleased that she didn’t pull away. “What’s with the ice on this side of the inn?”

“We used to lay bets as to the day and time to the minute that it collapsed, usually in August. One year it never did melt before we left in September. The valley gets lots of snow here, and we’re at about fifty-four hundred feet, so the night temps are cool even in summer. You’ll need your hat, and I suggest sunblock, too, so you don’t get burned.”  She pulled out a small tube from the pocket of her jean jacket and began to spread it on her nose and cheeks.

“You missed a spot. Let me help.” He took the tube from her and smoothed the cream all over her face, relishing the feel of her silky skin. “If you hold still, I can count the freckles I covered up.”

She gave him a half-hearted smile. “Please don’t remind me. My turn.”

She handed him his hat, and brushed his hair off his forehead before rubbing the cream to his hairline and onto his cheeks and nose. When her fingers brushed across his mouth, he smiled, pleased that she grinned back at him.

They entered the inn. He studied the structure of the building with its balcony along the two longest sides of the lobby. Over the huge logs making up the railing hung numerous Navaho rugs, each with a sales tag attached.

“Are they expensive?” he asked, pointing to one.

“Is the Pope Catholic?” She chuckled. “Want to guess which of the ones hanging here will set you back the most?”

He looked up as he wandered around, careful not to bump into people who paraded through the lobby area. “I couldn’t say. Maybe that big one, with the natural colors?”

“It’s pretty all right. That’s a Two Grey Hills. They’re my favorite style, but I have a feeling that red and black one over there has the highest price tag.”

“How do you know?”

“I used to sell them. The
souvie shop manager taught me how to tell the good rugs from those less well-woven. I’m going to ask.”

She turned on her heel and returned a minute later with a woman who pointed to the red one. “You can have it for fifteen thousand dollars. It’s a prize winner.”

Olivia grinned. “What did I tell you?”

“This is some building,” he said, his interest in the architecture of the structure growing by the minute. “I’m going to look it up when I get home. Those cedar logs are immense.”

“They were all cut nearby when the place was built. Pretty cool, don’t you think?”

He nodded, glad he had asked her to bring him here.

She looked at the giant grandfather clock at one end of the lobby. “It’s about time for lunch. I’ll get our basket. We can eat outside and feed the ground squirrels that are sure to want a handout.”

He followed her outside and sat down at an empty table. She pulled sandwiches and fruit from the basket, followed by water bottles and napkins. They ate while enjoying the scenery and laughing at the
Steller’s jays that tried to chase the ground squirrels away from the shelled peanuts other visitors had lined up along the fence behind their table.

Olivia rose and said, “Help me clean up. We have time for a hike before we have to head back.”

With each passing minute he regretted that they would be leaving so soon, but followed her as Olivia picked up their leavings and tossed the napkins in the trash receptacles.

She headed up the slope, away from the inn along a broad path that wound its way behind the building, gradually climbing the slope to higher ground. “Come on! We don’t have a lot of time.” She set off at a trot then slowed to a walk when he did not immediately join her.

“Slow down. The altitude here. Thin air, I think,” he panted.

“Do you feel it? Lots of people do.” She slowed her pace, and a few minutes later, they were looking down on a lake with patches of snow still visible along its northern edge.

“Can we sit for a minute—so I can catch my breath?”

“Sure.” She leaned against a large log along the side of the trail.

He sat down next to her and took her hand in his. “Can you feel it, Olivia?” he asked, as he looked into her wide blue eyes.

“Feel what?” She turned her face to him and then lowered her gaze, her thick lashes dark against her skin, her cheeks pink.

“Our destiny,” he murmured and he leaned toward her and brushed her lips with his own. When she didn’t pull away, he put his arms around her and kissed her again, savoring, tasting, teasing. When her mouth opened slightly, he took advantage, teasing her again. His heart beat steadily against the curve of her breast and she sighed before she began to pull away.

Her cheeks were flushed when she said, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Better get used to it. Now that we’re not in business anymore.” He grinned at her. “I intend to do it again, now that we’re friends.”

She rose from the log and headed down the trail. He followed her and when the trail curved around so that he could look back at the inn from a different angle, he stopped, turned and studied the building again. He was about to stand up from his position on a nearby log and follow her when her arms slid around his neck and she was kissing him back, so fiercely he almost slipped backwards off his perch. He brought his arms around her and gave to her as intensely as she was giving to him until they both stopped, gasping for breath. Her eyes were a
stunning blue. Tendrils of hair had escaped her ponytail, framed her face, and lifted slightly in the breeze.