Taste for Trouble (28 page)

“Aww.”
His face fell. “Before you got here, we used to just scrape the scum off the
top and throw it in the microwave.”

“Forgive
me for having standards.” She slapped down the stack of cards and lifted
another.

“I
have standards,” he said. “It’s just that they mostly pertain to the necessity
of caffeine in the a.m.”

“Then
you ought to get up before noon,” she snapped.

He
peered at her from under a worn Manchester United ball cap. “Something, ah,
wrong?”

“Certainly
not.” She tossed down that stack, offended that it was
still
full of
non-starters, and snatched up another. “What makes you ask?”

He
lifted his shoulders in a wary shrug. “You seem a little...testy.”

“Testy?”
She rounded her eyes in a parody of offended shock. “Why on earth would I be
testy? Just because we have two short weeks to pull together the most complex
event I’ve ever worked on, let alone run, and my partner—” Here she paused to
deliver a killing glance. “—when he deigns to turn up at all, does nothing but
complain? What kind of miserable shrew would get testy over something like
that?”

“I
have no idea,” he said slowly. “Maybe you could, I don’t know, enlighten me?”

She
slapped her hands down on the table. “For goodness’ sake, James! What do you
expect? A parade for dragging yourself out of bed? I’ve been down here for
hours, working myself into a frenzy trying to make this stupid menu
work
,
and it won’t and I’m frustrated and worried and angry and you’re not here. I
need help and you’re not
here
.”

She
shot to her feet and walked a few paces away, horrified at the raw hurt in her
voice. God. No wonder he stayed away from her. It was bad enough that she felt
crazy. Did she really have to act crazy, too?

“Hey.”
He spoke softly, his voice shockingly near her ear. Why didn’t she ever hear
this guy move? “I’m here now, okay?” His hands came to rest on her shoulders,
warm and strong and comforting. It took every ounce of self-control she
possessed not to lean back into the solid heat of his body and let somebody
else do the worrying for a minute or two.

“I
could have used you a little earlier,” she said instead.

“Ah,
Bel.” He pulled her back into his arms. She closed her eyes against the
treacherous wave of contentment that slid through her, the same way she ignored
the shimmer of awareness at the way their bodies fit. “You’ve really had a
morning, haven’t you?”

The
hot prickle of tears in the back of her throat caught her off-guard and she
tossed off a bad-tempered shrug. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, turned
her to face him and held her shoulders in those big, capable hands. He bent a
little, to look at her eye-to-eye.

“I
didn’t abandon you, Bel,” he said. “I know I haven’t been the best partner to
you these past weeks, but I told Kate last night I was taking this seriously
and I am. Now that’s for me, sure. I’d like to get my career back one of these
days, too. But it’s also for you.”

“For
me?” She blinked at him, struggling to get past the sight of those gorgeous,
earnest eyes and that wicked mouth so close to hers.

“For
you.” He smiled at her and Bel’s system took another hit. A hard one. She
wanted to lean forward and press her mouth to his, to be the one to close the
distance between them herself for once, but he suddenly dropped his hands and
stepped back. Those lips curved into a smile, but it was a polite, arm’s-length
parody of the real deal. “You’ve given this thing—and, by extension, me—all
you’ve got, Bel. I don’t think you know how to operate any other way. It’s
pretty amazing, and kind of humbling, to tell you the truth. You deserve a
better partner. You’ve earned it.”

Bel’s
shoulders drooped under a swift pang of dismay. What, was he leaving her? Surrendering?
“It hasn’t been that bad, James. I could use a little lightening up from time
to time—”

“Well,
yeah.” He grinned at her. “But that’s no excuse for my playing fast and loose
with your career. Which is why I spent this morning at the library.”

“The
library?” She frowned at him, then down at his ratty track pants and faded
t-shirt. “In your pajamas?”

He
looked down at himself. “I don’t wear pajamas.”

“Oh.”
Her cheeks burned and he laughed.

“Most
people don’t iron for a day at the library, Bel.”

She
shrugged, still hung up on the image of James wearing nothing but all that taut
golden skin of his and a sheet.

“But
I did shower before I left. A nod to basic civility.”

“I’m
so glad to hear it,” she said.

He
beamed at her. “Don’t you want to hear my idea?”

“For
what?”

“For
the Fox Hunt ball.”

She
shook her head. “I think I might put that pot of coffee on after all. You don’t
make sense sans caffeine.”

“You’re
an angel,” he said. “I’ll start again once I’m caffeinated. I think you’re
going to like this once I explain it right.”

“Where
did you get these?” Bel asked, her fingers moving reverently over the original
architectural drawings of the Hunt Estate.

“The
local library had them,” James said, cradling a steaming coffee cup like it was
manna from heaven.

“You
have a library card?”

“Sure.
First thing I get every place I live.”

She
tore herself away from the plans long enough to throw a skeptical glance over
her shoulder. “Really?”

“My
mom always said there was nothing wrong with this country that couldn’t be
fixed by turning half the churches into libraries.”

Bel
grinned. “Bet that made her popular in small town Texas.”

“All
the ideas in the world, free of charge and open to the public,” James said. “What’s
so unchristian about that?”

“Not
a thing,” Bel murmured, tracing the outline of the Dower House’s sweet front
porch and tidy kitchen windows. A pang of loss washed through her, bittersweet
and sharp, and she flipped the page. No sense in dwelling on the past, she told
herself firmly. She’d find a new place to park her eggs and butter. A new
kitchen to love. Just as soon as she finished up here.

Another
unexpected pang of loss echoed through her at the thought but she forced
herself to ignore it. To focus on the page before her and not the vast,
gorgeous space she was currently parked in. The heart of James’ house in which
she’d made herself completely at home.

She
turned the page and found herself looking right at the very kitchen in which
she sat.

“Isn’t
it cool?” James came to peer over her shoulder, excitement warming his voice. “That’s
the Annex.” He leaned forward to lay a finger on the drawing. “That’s us. Did
you know the Annex was originally part of the Hunt estate?”

“Well,
yeah.” She shot him a look. “That’s why it’s called the Annex. Because it was
added
on
?”

“I
know what annex means, Bel.” James gave her a friendly elbow shot and jerked
his chin toward the yard. “But that hedgerow out there has to be nearly as old
as the house.”

“Nearly.”

“So
why would you build a huge beautiful house then hide it behind a wall of
shrubs?”

“Think
of it as a glorified spite fence.” Bel leaned down to squint at some tiny
printing on the scrolled paper.

“Spite
fence?”

“Mmmmm.
The result of a family squabble, or so local legend has it.”

“Must’ve
been some squabble.”

“I
think a woman was involved.”

“Isn’t
there always?” She shot him a narrow look. He smiled innocently. “How do you
know these things, anyway?”

“Kate.”
She shrugged. “It’s her mission in life to restore the Hunt estate to its previous
glory. She’s got Hunt House and the Dower House about where she wants them but
she’s never been able to get her hands on the Annex.” Bel cocked a brow at him.
“It really burned her toast when the owner sold to you instead of her. She took
it as a personal affront.”

“As
well she should. The lady I bought it from had no love for Miss
Kate Every
Day
, if I recall. Thought she was arrogant and snotty and
holier-than-thou.” His eyes twinkled at her. “And that’s just what she felt
comfortable saying in front of the pretty little real estate agent who showed
me the place. The rest doesn’t bear repeating. Plus I could never hope to do it
justice, considering its original delivery by a half-deaf, ninety-year-old
woman.”

“Miss
Farnsworth.” Bel smiled. “She and Kate were...cordial.”

“That’s
a lovely and southern way of putting it.”

“Isn’t
it?” She flipped the page and caught her breath.

He
bounced on the toes of his sneakers and beamed. “It’s the original landscaping
plan. For the whole estate. I couldn’t believe they had it.”

She
blinked and leaned in, traced a finger above the spidery lines. “My God, James,
look at this! Without that big old hedgerow dividing the property you can
really see the way the houses were designed as three parts of a single whole. The
way they’re angled to face the pond but also each other. The way they curve
around to create a commons, sort of. With—is that a garden in the center?”

“Yep.”
He flipped another page with a dramatic flourish and Bel lost her breath
completely. “I give you Hunt Gardens.”

“With
a capital G. Good lord, James.” She traced the pretty little pathways curving
amidst beds and groves and arbors and nooks. “It’s like something you’d read
about in a historical romance novel—all those alcoves, the statuary and
promenades.”

“You,
uh, read a lot of romance novels?”

There
was a laugh in his voice and Bel turned up her nose primly. “Enough to know
that Lord Thus-And-So will be much tempted to take certain liberties with Lady
What’s-Her-Face right here—” She tapped the drawing and squinted to read the
archaic printing. “—by the fountain.”

James
laughed. “He will if all goes according to plan.”

Bel
turned slowly. “Plan? You have a plan?”

He
grinned at her. “What would you say if I told you I’d decided to restore the
grounds?”

“The
grounds?” Bel stared at him. “You mean, like, plant this garden?”

“Yep.”

“But
there’s a thirty yard long hedgerow out there between here and Hunt House. And
half this garden lies on Kate’s property. And even if those things didn’t
matter—which they do—we have two weeks to plan this party. There’s no way on God’s
green earth you could possibly get all this—” She stabbed a finger at the paper.
“—done in two weeks. Why, you probably couldn’t even get a nursery to come out
to consult in that time frame, let alone—”

“The
bobcats will be here in an hour,” he said. “Kate’s already given the okay. I
stopped by Hunt House on my way home from the library to speak with her.”

“Oh.”
Bel felt a little faint as she struggled to process the new ground rules under
which her party planning would take place. Change had never been great for her.
“So your plan is to tear the entire estate to shreds for the full two weeks
prior to hosting a huge annual event?”

“Yep.”
He took her hands in his. “I have this idea.”

“Oh?”

“We’re
going back to pre-Civil War Virginia,” he said. “When men were gentlemen,
ladies wore hoops and everybody rode to the hounds. When courtship had rules,
manners reigned supreme and throwing a decent ball was a skill young ladies
learned at their mothers’ knee.”

She
stared at him, at the utter earnestness lighting his pirate’s face. And
something sparked inside. An answering flicker. A lick of...magic.

“When
the entire world ran according to the agricultural clock,” she said slowly. “When
people ate only what could be sowed, tended and reaped with their own hands.”

“That’s
right.” His grin was a beacon of heedless enthusiasm. Bel would have laughed if
she hadn’t known a similar one was spreading across her own face. “That’s
exactly right. I knew you’d get it, Bel.”

The
spark inside her glowed hot, then burst into a lovely, vivid flame. “I have to
get to the farmers’ market,” she said. “Right now.”

He
laughed. “I figured. Go on. Do your thing. I’m going to wait for the
landscapers.”

She
started for the door, then, halfway there, turned and came back. “Thank you,”
she said, and pressed a hard, smacking kiss to his lips.

He
froze under her hands and when she drew back, he touched a finger to his lips
and said warily, “Ah, okay. For what?”

“For
understanding what I needed,” she said. “For giving it to me.”

He
nodded. “Uh, sure. No problem.”

She
laughed. “Are you blushing, James?”

He
shoved his hands into his pockets. “Geez. No. You just, I don’t know, surprised
me. I’m usually the one kissing you in here.”