The Bargain (5 page)

She was instantly suspicious. An estate like that was worth an awful lot of money, after all. “Why? If you’re hoping to find any legal loopholes, you’re in for a big disappointment. Drew’s had lawyers prepare everything very carefully, and your parents left Kingston Manor to your brother free and clear. If you’re planning on swooping in and getting your own hands on the place — ”

“I don’t give a damn about any of that!” he said with a vehemence that surprised her into silence. “And I don’t want the place for me. I don’t belong there, and I never did. I want it for
him
.”

“You want it for him,” she repeated doubtfully, not sure what he meant.

“Yes. One day my brother will have a family of his own. He was born to be a family man, and I have zero doubt he’ll be a model dad. Little League, PTA — he’ll do it all. He’ll have kids to carry on the family name, the family traditions. He should hang on to the place for their sakes, if nothing else.”

“You really expect me to buy that? That this is all because you want to be uncle of the year to some kids that haven’t even been born yet, and you’re all about family now? Forget it. Your reputation precedes you.”

Her words seemed to hit him much harder than she expected, and she almost felt a little guilty at the stricken look on his face. Almost. After a moment, he nodded tersely. “Yeah, I’ve screwed up a lot with my family. I can’t change the past, though, can I? That’s why the future matters so much.”

“And the money that house represents means nothing to you.”

“I don’t need the money. I have my own place, my own business. I didn’t take money from them then, and I don’t want any of it now.”

It was plausible, she supposed, studying him. Then again, it could be the biggest load of bull someone had ever tried to sell her. If it weren’t for the look she had just seen cross his face, she would have written him off entirely. At the end of the day, though, she didn’t care to be a pawn in any game he might be playing. “Maybe you’re telling the truth, and maybe you’re not. Either way, I really don’t think it’s something I want to get mixed up in.” She bent down to plug the saw back in.

“Not even for Drew’s sake?”

She froze at first and then straightened, avoiding his eyes. They saw her feelings for his brother too clearly for her liking and recognized her Achilles’ heel. “I think Drew will be just fine.”

“Why gamble on that, though? Where’s the harm in just talking to him? I’m just asking you to make the same points with him that I made with you. You could end up saving him from a lifetime of regret. But if he thinks the whole thing through and he’s one hundred percent sure the youth center is still what he wants to do, then … ” He trailed off, and his face betrayed signs of an inward struggle she didn’t understand.

“Then what?” she persisted, wondering what was really going on inside his head.

He didn’t answer her immediately, and when he finally did, his answer did nothing to reveal what he was thinking. “Then I guess I’ll have to live with that.”

That wasn’t enough to satisfy her. “Why?” she asked, making eye contact with him again and staring at him hard this time as if by doing so she would be able to read his mind. “Why is this so important to you? What do you get out of it?”

“It’s not about me, it’s about Drew.”

Right. His body practically radiated tension. “Oh, I think it’s a little about you, too.”

He shrugged, tight-lipped, and she knew she wouldn’t get anything more from him, at least not today. It was tempting to tell him to get lost then, but if she did that, who knew what other avenue he might take with the youth center? If she agreed to do what he asked, she would at least be in the loop if some sort of ulterior motives showed up later.

Where’s the harm in just talking to him?

His words echoed in her head. The request seemed harmless enough on the surface. It might even be helpful to Drew, as Michael suggested. And maybe Michael really could help her get Drew to notice her —

No, no. She wouldn’t let that be a factor in her decision, she decided firmly, trying to ignore the way her heart seemed to beat a little faster at the thought. At least not consciously, she wouldn’t. Drew deserved better than that.
She
was better than that. “Okay,” she said finally, slowly getting the words out and half-wishing she could take them back. “Maybe —
maybe
I believe you’re on the level with all of this.”

Michael’s head shot up, and the hopeful look on his face actually made her determination to dislike him waver slightly. “So does that mean — ”

“I don’t know what it means yet,” she said irritably, appalled at the fleeting softness she felt toward him. She was definitely off her game here. “I guess it means I’ll think about it.”

Suddenly he was right in front of her, making her draw in a sharp breath of surprise. He put his hands on her shoulders, and she wondered with fleeting panic — or was it possibly anticipation? — if he was going to hug her. This was, after all, Michael Kingston, the lady-killer of McKinley High. Many women would happily commit felonies just to have him put his hands on them, even in such an innocent way as this. “I can’t ask for more than that. Thank you.”

She took a step back from him before she could start blushing or, worse, stammering. “Yeah, sure. Fine.”

“Call me when you’ve thought it over. Got a pen? I’ll give you my cell phone number.” He spotted a ballpoint pen she’d been using to mark measurements on the lumber and picked it up. “Here, give me your hand.”

Hesitantly, Shannon held out one hand and tried not to jump when he took hold of it to write his number down on her palm. She really was inept around men, apparently even the ones she didn’t like all that much.

“I’m staying at a motel in the city. The Piedmont Place — kind of a dive, but cheap. You could leave me a message there, too, if you can’t get through to my cell.”

She only half heard him, distracted by the feel of her hand in his very warm one. Her fingers must seem awfully stiff to him, but despite her best efforts, she could not will them to relax. Did he notice?

If he did, he was careful to avoid showing it. Probably wouldn’t want to risk blowing the tentative agreement they had reached. He handed her pen back to her. “I think my five minutes were up a while ago. Thanks for letting me say my piece.”

She shrugged, feeling awkward as usual. “I’m not making any promises.”

“I understand.” Michael gave Bo one last scratch behind the ears. “You really should try the soup. It’s good stuff.”

“I know. It’s even better when you eat it.”

He blinked and then started to smile. “Well, well. She jokes. The world is full of possibilities today.” Then he put his sunglasses back on and started walking back the way he had come.

Shannon caught herself staring at the way his jeans fit him so well and forced herself to look away. She glanced at the phone number on her hand and then met Bo’s eyes. “What?” she demanded defensively. “I’m a big girl, and I know what I’m doing.”

She hoped.

• • •

Michael emerged from behind the house without the company of a canine escort this time, and as he walked back to his truck his step was lighter than it had been before.

Finally. Finally there was a reason to hope he might be able to fix things. Well, he thought with a pang, as much they could be fixed. Some things couldn’t be undone no matter what he did now. But for the first time in recent weeks, Michael felt as if a weight might be lifting from his shoulders. It had been there for a long time, way before he ever saw the article about Drew’s plans for the family home. Certainly since his parents’ funeral. Granted, Shannon hadn’t agreed to do more than just think about helping him yet, but they at least seemed to be on better terms now.

Their truce was a fragile one, though. He didn’t dare push his luck and hound her any further, which meant he was essentially stuck waiting by the phone and praying that Somebody up there took pity on him. He had never been good at waiting, and now when there was so much riding on one woman’s decision, it was likely to be sheer torture. Distraction was the logical course of action, but a man could only play so many games of pool before getting a little restless.
Right
, Michael thought with a self-deprecating laugh. Restless. He’d passed restless years ago and was well on his way to someplace darker than that.

He chose to change his train of thought.

Stopping by the driver’s side of his truck, he glanced back the way he had come.

Shannon Mahoney. She was an interesting creature, and one that was hard for him to figure out. Sharp-tongued and handy with power tools one moment, but then blushing and awkward the next. It made for an unusual combination, one that he’d never seen in a woman before. There was something almost, well …
likeable
about it. And she was loyal, too. That much was clear. She could be good for his brother, if unconventional. He could honor their deal and help her win Drew over with a clear conscience, if she chose to enter into it.

He grinned, remembering the look she gave him when he asked her to put down the power saw. Then again, she might be too much for Drew to handle.

• • •

The deck remained unfinished by the end of the day, but it wouldn’t be too long before she had it done if she kept plugging away at it. Then she could sit outside on quiet weekend mornings and absorb the sounds of nature while sipping from a hot cup of coffee. Well, at least when Bo wasn’t chasing nature away.

She would have gotten more of the deck done today, but her mind was preoccupied after Michael’s visit. In fact, she ruined a couple of perfectly good pieces of lumber simply by not paying attention to what she was doing and then cutting them the wrong lengths.

Showered now and lounging comfortably on her bed with her legs criss-crossed yoga-style, she leafed through her collection of high school yearbooks, starting with the one from her freshman year — and Michael’s senior year. There weren’t many pictures of him in it, almost as if he purposely avoided the camera. Even in his senior picture, he looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but there, which resulted in a brooding sort of expression that — naturally — looked good on him.

And now she was contemplating teaming up with the ultimate bad boy of her high school years.

Should she do it? He seemed sincere enough, and he said all he wanted was for her to talk to Drew, to just get him to consider Michael’s perspective. It seemed safe enough. She tried to think it over from every possible angle, even a few ridiculous ones that would have made any conspiracy theorist proud, and she still couldn’t come up with a solid reason why it would be a bad thing for her to do.

She recalled then the relief on his face when she said she would think about his offer, and she felt an unexpected softness toward him then, mild but there nonetheless. Well, she could feel a little bit of sympathy without really liking him, she supposed.

Leafing through the pages of the yearbook, she found Drew’s freshman picture. She couldn’t resist smiling at it. Few boys could pull off the age of fourteen with any great degree of suavity, including Drew. He had a gangliness to him then but still wore the same smile that could make her heart go all aflutter now.

Her good humor faded as she remembered his hesitation a few days ago in his office and the question he almost asked her about the youth center. He was conflicted about some aspect of it. Maybe he even shared some of Michael’s doubts about the future of the family home.

In that case, Michael could be right. Talking to him about the youth center might be in his best interest after all, before he finalized plans that couldn’t be taken back and then wound up with one big pile of regrets.

That realization finally helped her come to a decision.

Reaching for the phone, she punched in the number Michael gave her earlier.

He answered after the first ring. “Hello?”

“It’s Shannon.”

“So have you decided?” he asked, and she could practically hear him holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

She took a deep breath of her own and plunged ahead. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow? And by the way, you’re buying.”

Michael forced himself to stop after his third cup of coffee. Shouldn’t she be here already? He checked his watch again. No, she wasn’t late yet, and the minute hand hadn’t moved any farther than the last time he checked. He needed to relax. Either that or his watch needed a new battery.

He leaned back in his chair and glanced yet again out of the coffee shop window. It felt almost like first-date jitters, which was ridiculous because Michael was not a man who experienced those kinds of jitters. But most men didn’t have as much riding on a date as he had riding on this little meeting. He had tried calling Drew at home again this morning and was not surprised when it went straight to the machine. Drew wrote him off a long time ago. If Shannon decided this was a bad idea after all, he might as well roll out the welcome mat for the Kingston Youth Center.

A flash of color caught his eye through the window: that blazing hair of hers. He had the impression that she was always struggling to tame it, and today she had done so by pulling it up into a tight and prim sort of bun. His fingers twitched as if grasping at imaginary hairpins. Shannon Mahoney might benefit from letting her hair down in more ways than one. He tried to imagine her relaxed and laughing but couldn’t.

She finished parking her truck and got out, pausing to wait until traffic had cleared enough for her to cross the street. Michael leaned forward and studied her with new interest. Clearly she believed in dressing low key, given the plain sort of clothes he’d seen her in the few times they’d met, but the jeans she wore today hugged her hips much better than anything else he’d seen her in. And the t-shirt was not oversized this time. Well, well. Miss Mahoney had a pretty damn good figure lurking under there. Who knew?

“You know what?” he greeted her as she came through the coffee shop door and spotted him. “You’re really not a bad looking woman.”