Best Laid Wedding Plans Page 12

  “Answer the question, Jenni Beth.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “When?” he snapped.

  “Okay. Jeez. Who took a bite out of your butt today?” She scowled. “I haven’t actually been there in a while. Why would I?”

  “Well, maybe you ought to head down there right now.”

  “I’m working.”

  “I can see that. And you’re doin’ a damn fine job. But that can wait. This can’t.”

  Glancing down at her feet, he spotted the scar on her ankle. She’d been tagging along and Wes had warned her to go home. When she wouldn’t, he’d shot her there with an arrow—the tip not sharp enough to actually pierce, but enough to break the skin and leave a permanent mark.

  They’d have been grounded for a month, but Jenni Beth hadn’t ratted them out. She’d lied for them, made up a story about a limb jabbing her ankle while she climbed a tree.

  She’d earned his respect that day, the scar a constant testament to her loyalty. Today, in those sexy, totally impractical sandals, it was on full display, as though she was reminding him.

  “You got a pair of sneakers?” he asked.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Put them on.”

  “Cole—”

  “Go get them, Jenni Beth.”

  Surprisingly enough, she did. She ducked into the house and came back minutes later wearing a pair of beat-up gym shoes. He ignored the skimpy excuse for a pair of shorts. They’d do. He put a hand on her shoulders and turned her to face his truck. “Get in.”

  “Cole, what is wrong with you?”

  Instead of answering, he thrust a can of insect repellent at her. “Here. Spray some of this on all that exposed flesh.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Not yet. But I think you might be.”

  Shaking her head, she covered herself in insect repellent and crawled into his truck. She stared out the window as they drove in silence to her bottomland. When he turned onto the rutted road, she finally looked at him again.

  “Why are we here? What are you doing?”

  “Tryin’ to wake you up. Help you come to your senses.”

  “My faculties are in full working order, I promise.”

  “I disagree. When we get out, just follow me.”

  “There are snakes.”

  “That’s why you’re wearin’ those.” He nodded toward her sneakers. “Besides, I was here earlier today and didn’t see any.”

  “They were hiding. Waiting till you dragged me down here.”

  One brow shot up. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  He snorted and brought the truck to a stop. When she made no move to get out, he walked around to her side and opened the door. He took her hand, instantly sorry. Heat flared inside him both from her touch and the sight of those sleek, bare legs. Would one touch send him to hell?

  Yes. One of his own making. Tamping down the desire, he helped her out, his hand lingering at her waist a tad longer than necessary. A wide expanse of marsh grass stretched in front of them. The high-pitched cries of tiny tree frogs filled the air.

  Her nose wrinkled. “It smells musty.”

  He breathed in the pungent, slightly salty smell. “That’s the rain we’ve had. It’s left things a little soggy.”

  With her in tow, he marched to the edge of her land and arrowed off toward the sign. When they got close enough, he pointed to the trees with the “No Trespassing” posts.

  “Do you know anything about this?”

  “No.” She walked up to the trees, ran her fingers over the sign. “Who owns this land? It’s never been closed to the public.”

  “No, it hasn’t.” He shook his head. “The same signs are on the boundary line of the property to the south.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “That’s what I asked myself. Why post the land?”

  “What does all this have to do with me?”

  Exasperated, he shoveled his fingers through his hair. “You’re a bright woman, Jenni Beth.”

  Her chin came up. “I like to think so.”

  He pointed north, then south. “Both the properties touching on yours are posted. Both, apparently, have the same owner.”

  “So?”

  “Argh. Do you have any idea what this soggy land we’re sloshin’ around in is worth?”

  “Somewhere around half a million dollars.”

  “Exactly. So you do know that. I was beginnin’ to wonder.”

  “I still don’t understand—”

  “Jenni Beth, stay with me here. Let’s say you owned two pieces of property, very expensive property, and wanted to do something with it. Build on it. Develop it. Whatever. Problem is somebody else owns the piece between your two.”

  She closed her eyes. “Somebody wants to squeeze me out.”

  “Bingo.” He threw his arm up in the air. “And you just gave them the green light.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Why would you even say that?”

  Cole kicked at a clump of grass.

  “I’m a businesswoman, Cole, with the credentials, the experience to make my plan work. I don’t intend to lose my land, and I don’t need my hand held.”

  In a flash, his temper boiled to the surface. “Maybe not, but you damn well need somebody to stand for you.”

  “To stand for me? What does that even mean?”

  “Richard’s up to something. I don’t know what, but Wes would clean my clock if I simply stood back and let him steal your land. Together we have a chance to make your dream work. I know you agreed to let me help, but I also know it was done begrudgingly.”

  When she said nothing, he asked, “Once I’m back in Savannah, are you gonna forget your promise and try to go it alone?”

  “I can do it,” she said quietly.

  “I don’t doubt that you can. I never have doubted you. But I can make it easier for you.” His voice dropped.

  “Why? Why are you so dead-set on helping me?”

  “Because I want to. You’ve been pissed at me for years—and rightly so. I’d like to make amends.”

  “You don’t need to do that. You didn’t force me into anything I didn’t want.”

  She looked at the ground, her eyes not meeting his, and he felt lower than scum. Hell, he was scum. But she chose to take the higher ground. Another point for Jennifer Elizabeth Beaumont.

  “I’ll be damned if I’m simply gonna walk away again.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “How about we try this? How about because I want to help my friend. If you were a guy, there wouldn’t be all this quibblin’. I’d offer my help, you’d accept it, and thank me. When I’d need help, you’d step in and give me a hand. Quid pro quo. Why do women have to make everything so damn hard? Wrap emotion in and around everything?”

  She narrowed her eyes, and he held up a hand. “Sorry. Again. Tell you what, I eat any more crow today, and I’m gonna have to turn down my mom’s invitation to dinner tonight.”

  He took her hand, so small and soft. He should pull away, couldn’t bring himself to do that.

  She bit her lip.

  “Promise you’ll let me help you.”

  “Cole—”

  “Jenni Beth.”

  She stared off toward the “No Trespassing” sign. A bird, high in a snag, screeched, breaking the silence.

  “Okay. I need help, you offered it. I told you yesterday I’d accept it. Despite my misgivings, I’ll honor that. Thank you.”

  He had to laugh.

  “What?” She turned angry eyes on him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, still grinning. “But that had to be the least gracious acceptance of an offer I’ve ever heard.”

  She scowled.
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  “Hop in. Let me get you back to that rose garden. You can take your mad out on those weeds.”

  On the way home, Cole’s grin faded. He chastised himself. She’d given him the perfect opening to tell her about the overheard phone call. But she’d been so angry. Knowing her, she’d have driven into town, flew into the bank, and ripped into Richard.

  And coming on top of his visit that would have had major consequences.

  The papers weren’t signed yet, and Jenni Beth couldn’t afford to lose the loan. Problem was she sure as heck couldn’t afford to lose that piece of land, either. He worried. After everything she’d been through, how she could still own a pair of rose-colored glasses was beyond him. But she did. And she refused, at times, to remove them.

  Working with her would be a challenge. It would also be a little slice of heaven. Or hell. He truly wasn’t sure if he could stand being around her day after day without the right to touch once in a while.

  He’d planned to stay in town for a couple of days, but it might be better if he left tomorrow for Savannah. After all, he had a business to run. But he’d miss her—and that was part of the consequences he had to live with.

  He’d leave Beck as watchdog.

  Before he had time to think it through, he asked, “Why don’t you drive down to Savannah in a few days? We can dig through my warehouse. See what you can use.”

  “I’d planned to buy things cheap at flea markets and estate sales.”

  “Check out my place first. It’ll be fun. And we can hit some great sales in Savannah.”

  “I didn’t invite you to shop with me.”

  “I’ve got contacts,” he argued.

  She held out her hand and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. “It still comes down to money.”

  He shrugged. “We’ll work that out.”

  A surprised laugh bubbled out. “Really?”

  “Yeah. I know the boss at Traditions.” He grinned. “Think I can probably get everything at cost.”

  “Hmmm. That would certainly help.”

  He nudged. “We can have breakfast at Clary’s. Your favorite. I’ll even pony up for a couple plates of their famous corned beef hash.” His lips turned up in a grin. “I can almost see your mouth waterin’.”

  “How do you know that’s where I eat? What I order?”

  “You told me when we were in your bedroom yesterday. You said you were missin’ that and your Starbucks. Besides, anybody with brains orders Clary’s hash.” He shrugged. “I saw your car parked outside the place a few times.”

  “Were you stalking me? Jeez, Cole.”

  “Hell no, I didn’t stalk you. My place is only two blocks over. I pass there on my way to work. To work! While you relaxed over a lazy breakfast, I worked.”

  He saw her mind circling.

  “I’m not sure whether to buy that explanation.” She chewed her lip, and he fought back a surge of pure lust. “The alternative is too spooky, though, so for now I’ll let it go.”

  She went still, then twisted on the seat to face him. “Did you send reports to Wes? Did he have you watching me?”

  “No,” he bit out.

  “You’re lying.”

  Through clenched teeth, he said, “I don’t lie. I might have mentioned in some of my emails that I’d seen you, but no detailed reports, sugar. I’ve been too busy for that.”

  “I’ll just bet. With your bevy of beauties.”

  “Don’t you just have that right.” He pulled in front of her house and leaned across the seat to open her door. “Let me know what you decide about Savannah.”

  She jumped out, and without another word he slammed her door and drove away. A liar?

  Somebody in the town of Misty Bottoms was a liar, but it sure as heck wasn’t him.

  * * *

  It had been a long, tiring day. After her field trip with Cole, she’d ripped into the gardens again, taking out her frustration on the weeds. She hated that she’d fought with Cole.

  Now, on top of everything else, the attic’s window shaker wasn’t keeping up with the Georgia heat. It had to be ninety degrees up here, making it impossible to sleep. She tossed off the sheet and thought longingly of her air-conditioned apartment in Savannah.

  Guiltily, she pushed that thought aside and willed herself not to think about it or dwell on the gargantuan task ahead of her. The clock on her nightstand read 12:33 a.m.

  She must have fallen asleep, though, because sometime later, her sleep-fogged brain registered the sound of erratic footsteps on the attic stairs. Sitting up, she heard a mumbled curse, the sound of an elbow or knee striking the wall.

  Her mother?

  Reaching for the bedside lamp, she clicked it on.

  “Turn that off.” The words sounded slurred. A hiccup followed.

  Jenni Beth sat on the side of the bed, the light still on.

  “Mom?”

  Her mother reached the landing, her robe belted sloppily, her hair disheveled. She swayed ever so slightly, and the smell of cigarette smoke battled with the scent of alcohol. Tears streaked her face.

  Jenni Beth had never seen her mother like this.

  Sue Ellen dropped onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

  “What happened?”

  “I miss him.” Her chin quivered.

  “I know you do.” She ran a hand over her mother’s hair, down her back.

  “I decided to have a drink—out on the back patio. One turned to two, to, well, a few more. I think I’m in—inebri—oh hell, I’m drunk, honey.”

  Jenni Beth closed her eyes. “Yes, Mom, I think you are.”

  Her mother’s tears slowed, and she grew quiet.

  “Are you still awake?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you start smoking again, Mom?”

  “Don’t tell your dad,” she whispered.

  “I won’t.”

  “I’m tired, honey.”

  Jenni Beth slid over, held up the sheet, and her mother slid in beside her. In minutes, she was fast asleep.

  Jenni Beth wasn’t that lucky.

  At some point, though, as she drifted in and out of sleep, she realized her mother had left. She was sorry about that. It had been a long time since she’d last crawled into her parents’ bed in the middle of the night seeking reassurance and protection.

  This time, the tables had been turned.

  Her mom had needed her.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, Cole opened the old screen door and leaned in.

  Charlotte, dust cloth in hand, motioned him in. “Get yourself out of that heat.”

  Stepping inside, he asked, “Is Jenni Beth here?”

  “Sure is. She’s up in that room of hers, tucked away with her plannin’.”

  “Okay if I go up?”

  “Fine with me, but don’t you go walkin’ in on her unannounced.” She gave him the stink eye over the top of her glasses.

  “No, ma’am. Wouldn’t think of it.”

  “Humph. Go on now. I’ve got work to do.”

  He took the stairs two at a time. He should be on his way to Savannah. He wasn’t. After tossing around in bed half the night, he’d decided too much was still up in the air here. So he’d called Mickey, his assistant, who’d assured him Traditions could get along without its owner and master for another day.

  At the bottom of the attic stairs, Cole knocked on the banister.

  “Come on up,” Jenni Beth called.

  His heart knocked against his chest. Think of it as her office, not her bedroom.

  She was working at the computer, all that silky blond hair scooped up in a messy knot on her head. It struck him how incredibly gorgeous she was, how exactly right with all the clutter of building and planning around her.

 
Himself? Definitely out of place. A male lost in an ultra-feminine space. He drew in a deep breath, smelled the faint scent of wisteria that clung to her. He sniffed again. Did he smell cigarette smoke?

  “Were you smokin’ up here?”

  She blushed. “No, of course not.”

  Again, he sniffed. His imagination? Probably, although Jenni Beth sure did look guilty. He’d never known her to smoke, though.

  “You busy?”

  She laughed. “Always.”

  “Still mad at me?”

  “A little miffed maybe.”

  “And that’s better than mad?”

  “By a hair of a degree.”

  “I’ll take it.” He nodded toward her computer. “What are you up to today?”

  She hit save and swiveled to look at him. “I’m working on the layout for my website. Have to get that up.” She pulled a face. “I kind of cheated. I picked a couple areas to make beautiful…and finished. That way I can include some initial photos.”

  “The rose garden?”

  “Yeah, that’s one.”

  “That’s not cheatin’. It’s smart.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. “I’ve made a few calls to some of the bridal magazines, too. The cost makes me cringe, but I have to run ads. The money worries me, but I think it’ll be dollars well spent. Without the marketing, all the other work…” She shrugged. “Well, if nobody knows we’re here, everything else will all be for nothing, won’t it?”

  “Yep. That old ‘you’ve got to spend money to make money.’”

  “I only wish I had it to spend.”

  A frown creased her forehead, and he found himself wishing he had the right to take her in his arms and kiss it away.

  And wasn’t that the stupidest thing. He and Jenni Beth Beaumont would never, ever reach that point. Nor did he actually want to. It had been a flight of fancy. Charlotte was right. It was damned hot outside. Made a man goofy.

  “How about a cup of coffee? Or a glass of lemonade?” Jenni Beth asked.

  “Good idea.” Anything to give him an excuse to escape her space without losing his dignity.

  But he didn’t make it. She started past him, and he lost the battle. Reaching out, he caught her hand, turned her into him, and brought his lips down on hers.