Package Deal (4 page)

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Authors: Chris Chegri

Tags: #contemporary romance

BOOK: Package Deal
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That was an understatement.

“Yeah. I guess I am, sorry.” She relaxed some. “I’m starting a new job today, and this hasn’t been an impressive beginning. You know—calling in late my first day.”

“I guess you’re off to a pretty bad start.” He leaned back against the seat and picked up the menu, peering at her over the top with some of the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. “How did your boss take it?”

“Not well. He didn’t understand at all. Didn’t really care.”

She took a bite of rhubarb pie and tried not to look at him, afraid his good looks might bore a hole through her good sense. She needed to get out more.

“So you’re relocating here. Who are you going to work for?” His eyes flashed with friendly-fire.

“The
News Journal
. I’m an environmental journalist,” she told him between bites. The pie was delicious, and she made a few yummy sounds.

Connie returned to the booth and pulled her order book from her apron pocket, pencil poised. Looking at Steve McCarthy, she said, “Have you decided yet?”

McCarthy pushed the menu aside. “I’ll have my regular and keep the coffee coming.”

 
Connie scribbled on her pad. “Two eggs over easy, sausage, and hash browns. Got it.” She left, and McCarthy gave Kelly his attention again.

“Now, where were we? So you’re an environmental journalist.”

Warning alarms went off in Kelly’s head. “Honestly, Mr. McCarthy—”

“Call me Steve.”

“Steve, I don’t want to rush you, but I need to get going.” Nearly finished with her pie, she had no intention of sitting there, small talking while he shoveled down his man-sized breakfast. “If we could just exchange luggage, you can relax and enjoy your breakfast, and I can get to work.”

McCarthy set his cup down hard, splashing coffee over his hand. When the cup hit the tabletop, the two old gents at the counter spun around. Steve noticed and shot them a glare that said,
mind your own business.
With a singular grunt, they turned
back to their breakfasts and picked back up in the middle of a fishing story. McCarthy wiped his hand with a napkin, and when he looked up at Kelly, all congeniality had vanished from his face.

“Let’s get something straight, Miss Pearson. One, I didn’t take your suitcase on purpose. You got to baggage claim first. I ran into you dragging a suitcase, which turned out to be mine. Two, I am just as inconvenienced by this as you. I, too, am late for work. Three, I sat in an assigned seat on the plane. I didn’t pick it, and if I had, it wouldn’t have been next to you.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “I live in Florida because I hate the cold. From what I’ve seen this morning, your relocation could cause crop damage on the peninsula. The temperature has already dropped twenty degrees since I walked in here.”

Then he added insult to injury.

“And that chip you’re carrying around on your shoulder…well, it rivals Mt. McKinley. Mountaineering isn’t my style, so I think we’re done here.”

He threw his napkin on the table. “I’ve got better things to do. Besides…” He hauled himself out of the booth. “…I’d like to enjoy my breakfast without getting indigestion.”

He pulled his car keys from his pocket, his neck red with irritation. “Your suitcase is in the backseat of my car. Are you coming, or should I leave it on the sidewalk?”

Kelly flushed with embarrassment.
God, I’m an idiot.
Forced to put things into perspective, she had to admit she’d overreacted. She was pretty sure this man wasn’t a rapist or a thug. He seemed like a nice guy, a traveler, victimized by her impatience and distrust. Her behavior was totally unacceptable. She’d acted like a jerk.

This whole thing with her ex, Ken, had opened up old wounds,
and instead of limping away to lick them, she had come out fighting. The stress of a new job wasn’t helping either. The fact was
,
she found Steve McCarthy attractive. Still, she wasn’t ready to have a relationship, so she’d built a wall to keep him out before he’d asked to come in, which was ridiculous. All the man wanted was breakfast.

Unfortunately, rationalizing didn’t lessen her embarrassment or make her feel any better. In simplest terms, she hadn’t been fair. She had used Steve McCarthy for a scratching post and she knew it. She didn’t think her cheeks would ever stop burning.

As Steve moved away from the booth, Kelly reached up and gave his arm a timid tug. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like an ass. When I called my boss, he was angry. I’m taking my ex-husband back to court for more child support, and I’m leaving everything familiar to move to Florida.” Nervous, she fiddled with her spoon. “I miss my daughter already.”

She stopped, surprised by all she’d revealed to this stranger. A private person by nature, Kelly seldom shared her problems with friends, much less strange men—no matter how handsome and irritating. Somehow, that didn’t stop her now.

“I’m tired and worried.” She studied him. “Whatever. I could make up a million excuses, all of them true, but I won’t. I’m a wreck right now, and I’m sorry for taking it out on you. It wasn’t fair of me.”

Steve McCarthy just stood there, staring at her, his expression lined with frustration.

“Please, finish your coffee.” She smiled sheepishly. “I won’t bite again. I promise.”

Connie arrived with his breakfast, cast Steve an edgy smile then bustled off to check on the other customers.

“Look Steve. You were right. It’s my fault, not yours.” Kelly wasn’t going to let him walk away after abusing him for no good reason. Besides, his crop damage remark had frosted her, even if she’d deserved it. “Come on. Sit down.”

Steve’s gaze dropped to the eggs and hashed browns. He shrugged and slid back into the booth, his expression now cool and disinterested. She knew he wouldn’t have stayed, if he hadn’t already ordered breakfast. He studied her while she finished the last of her pie.

After making a fool of herself, she was short on words. “You live here in Daytona Beach?”

“Yes.”
He took a bite of hash browns.

Great.
A one-word sentence. He isn’t going to make this easy for me.
Determined to bridge the chasm Kelly asked,

Do you live on the mainland?”

Daytona Beach occupies a small chunk of Florida’s Atlantic coast and is part of a small peninsula separated from the mainland by the intercoastal waterway.

“I do. My house is on the mainland. The intercoastal runs through my backyard.” He drank some coffee and glanced over at the old men on the stools. An uncomfortable pause hung between him and Kelly. She had opened her mouth to speak when he added, “I picked up the property a few years ago for about
one-third its value. Now everyone’s swarming the area, buying up the lots around me. Property along the waterway is prime real estate, almost impossible to find
or
afford now. I got lucky. It’s my own little piece of paradise.

“The house is old—” His voice picked up enthusiasm. “Run down when I bought it, but I’ve sunk a lot of love and labor into it. I have a private dock out back and a small boat. When the shrimp are running, you’ll find me and my fishing buddy, Gary Benson, out there burned to a crisp, pulling those happy little critters in by the pound. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

When he spoke, his eyes danced, and the strong muscles of his jaw worked while he bragged with enthusiasm about the home he loved. The sullen look he’d sat down with was gone. He’d lucked into happiness
.

“Wow. The place sounds wonderful.” Envy rippled through her voice. “Do you have a family to share it with?”

“No. Just me and my dog, Junker.”

She half grinned. “Nice name. Poor pooch.”

Steve laughed. “I found him at a junkyard. He was just a pup.”

“Just a man and his dog, huh?” She found it hard to believe he didn’t have a harem hiding somewhere. He was far too good looking to be unattached.

“I was married once, a long time ago,” he offered, seeming to read her thoughts. “Never lucky enough to have kids, so now it’s just me, Junker, and Gary.” His grin deepened, revealing one irresistible dimple. “I guess they’ll have to do. Gary lives next door, and he’s as addicted to fishing as I am.

“My job keeps me pretty busy, and I enjoy it. I get to work with some interesting people. How about you? Where’s your family?”

Kelly squirmed, fighting off a parade of dismal memories. She hated thinking about her past, much less talking about it with anyone other than Jill. But she thought she owed him some honestly, although she wasn’t sure why. It had been a long time since she’d opened up to a man.

“I’m divorced.” She despised the sound of it. “My brother was killed in a car accident. I have a six-year-old daughter, Lacy, and my mother lives in North Carolina.” The words rolled off her tongue with the flatness of a bad biography. “I’m hoping to see my mom more often, now that we’ll be closer. I’m going back to San Francisco to get my daughter once I find us a place to live. I don’t have much time though,” she continued, “and I think I should explore the area before I decide where to settle. Right now, I don’t know uptown from downtown.
Is
there a downtown? I have no idea what the rental situation is, so I’ve got some homework to do.”

***

Steve remained quiet, listening. He could tell she was trying to make amends, albeit with great effort. It seemed McKinley might be thawing.

Kelly leaned over the table. “Steve. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For giving me another chance.”

“No problem. Everybody feels like Jekyll and Hyde some days.” One look into her crystal blue eyes and at her forlorn expression, and he softened.

He paused, reevaluating the situation. She’d been honest with him about her behavior, and had even apologized. “Listen, it sounds as if things are pretty hectic right now for you, but I’d be glad to help if I can. I dabble in real estate. It’s only a hobby, but I could show you around the area if you have some time. Maybe we can find you a bargain.”

She seemed surprised. “Really? Real estate, huh?”

“I got into real estate in college, years ago,” he explained. “It helped pay my college tuition. Now, I’m a cryogenic physicist by profession.”

Kelly’s eyebrows lifted. She looked impressed. “Doesn’t cryogenics have something to do with cold?”

“Smart girl. Since temperatures in space can reach minus four hundred fifty-nine degrees Fahrenheit, the effects on our manned space missions can be pretty far reaching. That’s where I come in. I’m a consultant at the Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral.”

“So you’re sort of a freeze expert, huh?”

Steve nodded. “You could say that.”

“Then I guess your forecast for the peninsula’s crop damage is right on target.” Her remark dripped with sarcasm. “Who would know better than you? Right?”

Steve fidgeted with his coffee cup, afraid if he spoke, he might get mad again. He needed to end this charade and get her dammed suitcase and be done with her.

All of a sudden, her eyes danced with amusement. He sighed inwardly. She ranked up there as one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen, and she’d just played him. Surrendering, he gave in with a grin.

“Guess we’re even, Pearson.” He raised his coffee cup in a mock toast, took a sip, and regarded her over the cup’s rim. She was easy on the eyes but a tough one to figure out. “Guess I deserved that.”

“Not really,” she said. “I couldn’t resist. Glad to see you have a sense of humor.”

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