Текст книги "The Man Must Marry"

Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

“Since Peg will be staying with you,” he said, “you’ll have to sneak over to my cottage after she turns in for the night.” He kissed her on her cheek this time, his beard catching her hair. “I promise to kick you out before daylight, so you can sneak back home.”

Willa straightened away when she heard the amusement in his voice. “Keelstone Cove has a population of twelve hundred and forty-six people, and everyone knows everyone’s business. And if they don’t, they’re just as liable to make up something.”

She leaned forward and turned the wheel slightly to adjust their course, then pivoted on the bench to face him. “Just last year, the coffee-shop club decided Mary-Jane Simpson had a thing for Rory Peterson, even though Mary-Jane had just marriedChad six months earlier. Rumors of their affair spread

all over town within a week.”

“And Mary-Jane didn’t have a thing for Rory?”

“He was old enough to be her father!”

“So the town gossips hurt her new marriage?”

“It turned out that a week after the rumors began, Mary-Jane and Rory ran off together,” she muttered. She grabbed the front of his jacket and gave it a tug. “The coffee clubbers are notoriously good, Sam. They can sniff out a scandal before the participants themselves even know they’re involved.”

“And my renting your cottage is scandalous?”

“For me—a single, eligible woman—to have an equally eligible man living in my dooryard is going to start a tidal wave of rumors.”

“So what?” He peeled her hand off his jacket and held it in his. “You’re how old?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Okay. You’re a twenty-nine-year-old, totally independent woman who has the right to rent to anyone she chooses, as well as the right to sleep with whoever she chooses. You can’t stop the rumors, but you can rise above them. So don’t even try to be discreet. What can they possibly do to you?”

She stood up, glaring at him. “Since my parents died, the entire town has felt it’s their duty to take over parenting me. I have endured everyone in town trying to marry me off for the last five years . I swear, they didn’t even wait until the ink was dry on my divorce. I can’t tell you the men they’ve thrown at me—even tourists! Some poor unsuspecting guy will walk into the coffee shop, and if he’s not wearing a ring, he’s fair game. Before he knows it, they’re persuading him that Keelstone Cove is a great place to live—especially if he were to fall in love with a wonderful woman who just happens to own a thriving business. Then they drag the poor schmuck out to Kent Caskets, because every perverse tourist wants to see a casket factory, and then they suggest wouldn’t it be nice if the two of us had dinner together.”

Sam was laughing so hard he was holding his belly. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not! Sam, if you spend even one night in Keelstone Cove, you’re going to find yourself facing down the marriage posse. And I’m only one of five eligible women in town they might decide you’re perfect for.” She scrunched up her nose. “Although I am considered the spinster in the group, so they’re trying to get me married off first. Only they keep telling me to sell my business, because no one wants to be married to a casket maker!” she finished loudly, since Sam was laughing so hard he actually fell off the bench.

“It’s not one stinking bit funny, Sinclair! How would you like to have a bunch of busybodies butting into your love life?”

He leaned against the bench and grinned up at her. “I already have, Willa. Bram could have given lessons to your marriage posse.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been leading your posse for the last six weeks. Your coffee clubbers probably helped him draft that bequest.”

Willa was so horrified by that possibility that her knees buckled, and she landed on the deck beside Sam. “Come to think of it, Abram never showed up at Kent Caskets until after ten every morning,” she said, staring off at the horizon. “And he did smell of coffee and bacon. He must have been going to the diner before he came to my factory.” She turned to Sam. “What are we going to do? If we show up in Keelstone Cove together, they’re going to make my life hell. I probably can’t even go home now! If anyone knows about Abram’s will, I’m toast.”

He pulled her against his side again and leaned back against the bench. “We could get married. That would shut them up.”

She shuddered.

He chuckled and gave her a squeeze. “Then stand up to the bastards, Willa. Sail straight into Keelstone Cove as if you own the damn town—which you probably could if you wanted, considering your new net worth.” He used his finger to lift her chin to look at him. “Nobody can make you do anything you don’t want to, Willa. Not your neighbors, not Bram, and not me.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “So you’ll stop bugging me to marry you and help me break Abram’s will?”

“I only said I can’t make you marry me. I didn’t say I wouldn’t keep asking.”

“But why?” she cried, pulling away. “Why would you even consider marrying me?”

“Because I love you.”

She gaped at him for several seconds, then scrambled to her feet. “You can’t fall in love with someone in only a week! You’re just saying that because you don’t want Warren Cobb to get those shares.”

He stood up and faced her, his feet planted against the sway of the deck, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “There isn’t a damn thing I can do or say that will make you believe I couldn’t care less what happens to Tidewater International. But I swear, Willa, my heart hasn’t been in that business for years.”

“Then why were you so hot to be the new CEO?”

“I told you, and so did Ben and Jesse, that we all wanted it because Bram was still alive. But Ben is the only one who has any genuine interest in Tidewater. So even if you and I do get married and you turn your shares over to me, I will use them to vote Ben in as CEO.”

“Then why didn’t Ben offer to marry me?”

“Because he doesn’t love you.”

Willa drew in a shaky breath. This was getting them exactly nowhere. She turned her back to him and silently walked to the bow of the boat. Nobody fell in love in eight days, and nobody as handsome and rich and self-assured as Sam Sinclair was going to fall in love with her. Which was perfectly fine, because she sure as heck wasn’t ever falling in love with anyone ever again. It was bad enough that she loved Shelby and Jennifer and Cody with all her heart. Not for the first time since the accident, Willa was tempted to sail into the sunset and find a deserted

island. She could drop Sam off on the town dock, go home to pack some clothes and supplies, and point the RoseWind toward the southern horizon. Shelby and Jennifer and Cody would miss her at first, but they’d eventually get over it. And Sam could clean up the mess Abram had made and eventually find someone he could really love and get on with his own life. She stared out at the ocean and sighed, wondering why that was such a depressing thought.

Since he’d grown accustomed to going to bed and making love to Willa for half the night, Sam was unable to sleep despite being utterly exhausted. He was back up in the front bunk, alone, and thoroughly at odds with himself.

He’d been more surprised than Willa that morning when he’d told her that he loved her. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen in love with her, but he’d said the words out loud, by God, and he wasn’t taking them back. Hell, why else would he have volunteered to be the one to marry her? He wasn’t into self-sacrifice, so it must be love—or something real close to it. And considering the position his grandfather had put her in, the truth was the best he could offer Willa and the least she deserved. Abram Sinclair had been able to accomplish what the marriage posse hadn’t in just six short weeks, proving that money and power were amazing tools in the hands of someone who knew how to use them. Dammit, he was a successful, intelligent businessman in his own right—so why couldn’t he find a solution to this mess? Willa had asked him to help her break Bram’s will, but he’d dismissed the idea because…because…

Probably because he didn’t want to. Because if he found a loophole, where would that leave him with Willa?

He snorted. “Exactly where you are right now, you idiot—sleeping alone.”

But breaking the will would solve one major problem: without the Tidewater shares hanging over their heads, Willa couldn’t accuse him of wanting to marry her only to get them.

“Then find the loophole,” he muttered. “Secure Tidewater, then go after the woman with everything you’ve got, Mr. Badass Businessman.”

Acquiring a wife couldn’t be any different from acquiring a company. He just had to concentrate on finding a loophole, while spending every available minute showing Willa he really did love her.

Chapter Thirteen

Sam stood at thebow as Willa guided the engine-powered RoseWind through a maze of moored boats. He was supposed to be securing the sails, but after getting his thumb eaten by a winch for the third time in three days, he’d had enough. What could she do to him, anyway? Fire him? Throw him overboard?

Starve him to death?

He’d already taken an unexpected swim yesterday when a rogue wave had washed him over the rail, getting dragged by his safety harness for nearly two miles before Willa had gotten the boat stopped. As for starving—he’d awakened this morning to find it hadn’t been a thick, juicy steak he’d been gnawing on in his dreams but his pillow.

He wished she would fire him.

“Why does the sign on the harbor master’s office say Prime Point and not Keelstone Cove?” he asked.

“Because this is Prime Point. That storm is right on our tail, and I want the RoseWind on a mooring and battened down before it hits. We’d be cutting it too close to continue on to Keelstone. Check the front latches after you fix those ropes,” she said, apparently hoping to hang on to her authority a while longer. Not a chance. Sam’s only focus right now was to set foot on a nonmoving surface, stuff himself until he couldn’t breathe, then lay his head on a pillow that wasn’t swaying. She owned the RoseWind ; she could damn well batten down her own hatches. His conscription had ended the moment they’d gotten within swimming distance of land.

“So, how are we getting to Keelstone Cove from here?”

“We’re not getting anywhere. I radioed a friend who lives in town, and he’s giving me a ride home,” she said, scowling when he didn’t move. “A bus heading south goes through here every morning. Maybe you could stow away on it .”

Sam turned to hide his smile. When he’d come up on deck that morning, Willa was in a bad mood, and it had gone downhill from there. He wished he’d known that telling a woman he loved her was such a turn-off; it would have saved him countless Dear Jane dinners. He could see the main pier was crowded with trucks, along with a small army of people hurrying to off-load their day’s catch. The harbor was busier thanTimes Square at rush hour, and fishing boats zoomed within inches of each other. Willa blithely guided the RoseWind through the turmoil, and Sam scrambled to brace himself when a boat laden with lobster traps suddenly veered straight toward them.

“Willa Kent!” the man at the helm called out as he approached, causing Willa to idle to a halt. The fisherman reversed his own engine, gently inching his boat alongside the RoseWind with amazing precision. “I went to your factory to buy a box for Gramps yesterday, but they told me you were inNew York City . You gonna be back at work this afternoon? Funeral’s day after tomorrow.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. This guy had stopped them in the middle of the harbor to buy a casket? He was pushing sixty; how the hell old was his grandfather?

“I’m sorry to hear Gramps died, Cyrus,” Willa said, walking to the rail. “I’m going to miss his outrageous stories.”

“Now, don’t you go feeling sorry for him, girlie. Gramps went to bed every night since Grandma died praying he wouldn’t wake up in the morning. He was smiling when we found him.”

Willa glanced out to sea, then back at the fisherman. “Give me a couple of hours, and I’ll meet you at my factory. We’ll find him a really nice casket.”

The fisherman crossed his heavily muscled arms over his barrel chest. “At a forty-percent discount, I reckon. Better yet, you got any seconds? Gramps wouldn’t mind a few dings and scratches, if’n the deal was sweet enough.”

Sam sat down on the forward doghouse. Now he was haggling over the price?

“I give a thirty-percent discount to locals,” Willa said, breaking into her first smile of the day. She leaned over the rail and dropped her voice. “But I have a beautiful rock maple casket I can sell you at half-price. It was a special order, but the client’s family decided to cremate him, so they never took it. I think Gramps would be right proud to be resting inMaine maple.”

“Sixty percent off. If’n it was a special order, you’re stuck with it. I’d be doing you a favor to get it off your factory floor.”

Willa stepped back to the wheel of the RoseWind . “Half-price, Cyrus, and it’s cash and carry.”

He scowled, obviously not liking being outtraded. “I’ll be there at six sharp. You ferrying this Sengatti to Emmett for repairs?” he asked, suddenly as congenial as before the negotiations. “I seen him waiting over at the public pier.”

“No, the RoseWind belongs to me,” she said, pushing on the throttle as she waved good-bye to the gaping fisherman. “See you at six, Cyrus. And bring your brothers. Rock maple is heavy,” she finished, darting the RoseWind between two lobster boats leaving the main pier. “That mainsail is not going to tuck itself into that boot,” she told Sam.

“It’s going to have to,” he said, staying put. “You’re not paying me enough to move.”

“You ate your weight in food, Sinclair.”

“And I’ve still lost twenty pounds.” He stood up when he spotted a lobster shack next to the pier. He tossed over the bumper, then grabbed the front line, which he handed to the waiting man as Willa inched the RoseWind against the dock. Before she had even shut off the engine, Sam scrambled over the rail, stepped onto the pier, and fell flat on his face.

“Whoa there,” the man said with a laugh, helping him to his feet. “It’ll take you a while to get back your land legs. How’d she run, Willa?” he asked, dismissing Sam by handing him back the rope and walking toward the stern. “Could you feel the difference in that hull design?”

“She practically sailed herself.”

Sam didn’t hear the rest of Willa’s response, because he was already—very carefully, so he wouldn’t fall again—making his way toward the lobster shack.

“Wait up, Sam.” The man, who had to be in his late seventies, was loping toward him. “Where are you going?”

“As far away from Captain Bligh as I can get.”

The man chuckled, then held out his hand. “Emmett Sengatti. I’m sorry for your loss. Bram was a hell of a man.”

Sam shook his hand, surprised by the powerful grip—until he remembered that Emmett Sengatti used to hand-build boats for a living. “Yes, he was. Thank you.”

“You’re not going to help Willa secure the RoseWind before the storm hits?”

Sam glanced down the pier to see her tucking the mainsail into its storm boot. “Trust me, she has everything under control.”

Emmett shook his head, though Sam noticed a distinct glint come into the older man’s eyes. “If I was trying to persuade a girl to marry me, I sure as hell wouldn’t be abandoning her when there’s work to be done.”

Sam stiffened. “What makes you think I’m trying to get her to marry me? For that matter, how the hell do you even know who I am?”

“Bram spent many evenings at my place these last six weeks,” Emmett said without taking offense. “Our little chats usually centered on you three boys, and you look exactly like your picture. As for the marrying part, Spencer is holding money from both Bram and me—and your showing up with Willa just made me a thousand bucks poorer.”

He lowered his voice. “Bram said you might be the one to recognize what a gem Willamina is, but he also thought Ben might go after her, since Bram knew he’s more interested in Tidewater than you are. I was guessing Jesse.”

“You two bet on which one of us would marry her?”

“No, we bet on which one of you would try.” Emmett glanced over his shoulder. “I tried my damndest to talk Bram out of writing that will, but he was convinced his plan would work.” He crossed his arms over his chest with a smile. “Though you have me to thank for his leaving in that loophole.”

“There’s a loophole?” Sam said in surprise.

“Big enough to sail a cargo ship through.”

“What is it?”

“If I have to tell you, I reckon you don’t deserve to marry anyone—especially Willa.”

Sam seriously thought about shoving the man off the pier.

“The way I see it,” Emmett said, “you’ve got three choices. You can hold that bequest over Willa’s head and make her marry you, you can find the loophole and then pursue Willa because you really want her, or you can walk away from the entire mess. Like you’re doing right now, leaving her to batten down the RoseWind all by herself.”

Emmett eyed Sam speculatively. “Walking away might appear to be the easiest thing in the world, but it’s been my experience that guilt is a hell of an anchor to drag around the rest of your life. But then, Willa would know more about that sort of thing.”

Everything suddenly clicked into place. “Bram came toMaine because of you. But why? He rarely ever mentioned your name, except when he was buying the RoseWind .”

“If you didn’t want anyone to find you, would you hide in your usual haunts? I met Abram nearly fifty years ago, when he was attendingMaineMaritimeAcademy over in Castine. We’ve always kept in touch.” He shrugged. “When your grandfather needed a place to run off to, he called me.”

“That makes sense, I suppose. But how does Willa figure into all of this? Why was Bram renting from her instead of staying with you? And what’s your relationship to Willa? Did you introduce my grandfather to her?”

Emmett shook his head. “Two ornery old men living together is the quickest way to end a friendship. Bram found Willa all on his own, when he saw her For Rent sign out by the road. As for Willa and me, I’ve had the privilege of watching her grow up. When she wasn’t dogging her daddy’s heels, she was at my boatyard dogging mine. She’s the child I always wished I’d had.”

“You a member of the marriage posse?”

Emmett chuckled and shook his head. “No. And I’ve told Willa to tell those nosy busybodies to go straight to—”

“I need a mooring, Emmett!” Willa called out.

Both men turned, and Sam saw his dry sack and Willa’s gear, including her mangled suitcase, sitting on the pier. She was coiling the ropes he’d made a mess of earlier.

“My color is still the same blue it’s been for the last twenty-nine years,” Emmett called back to her. Sam looked out at the harbor and saw at least a dozen empty mooring balls in several different shades of blue.

With a pointed glower at Sam, Willa released the RoseWind ’s dock lines and idled out into the harbor. Emmett looked back at Sam and grinned. “You must have really pissed her off. What’d you do, make a pass?” His smile widened. “No wonder you’ve got bruises.”

Sam sighed. “I told her I loved her.”

“And do you?”

“Yes.”

Emmett nodded. “That’s a start. Do you know what you’re up against?”

“I believe it mostly has to do with her niece.”

“You’re in for a treat when you meet Jennifer. We could all take a few lessons from that girl.” He turned serious. “Willa especially.”

“And you think forcing Willa to marry and have children is magically going to fix her?”

“Nope. But there was no persuading Bram otherwise. He said if it was you who fell for Willa, then the two of you could fix each other.”

“Fix each—I’m not broken.”

“No?” Emmett’s eyes glinted again. “You don’t have abandonment issues when it comes to women?”

“What in hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t dump your girlfriends within a few months, before they can dump you first?”

Sam spun on his heel and headed for the lobster shack.

Emmett fell into step beside him. “I’m sorely relieved to realize you don’t blame your mother for abandoning you boys to travel with your dad on his business trips.”

“I have no idea what you and my grandfather talked about these last six weeks,” Sam ground out, “but I do know it’s none of your goddamn business.”

“It became my business when Bram decided to involve Willa.”

“Willamina Kent is a grown woman. She doesn’t need any more interfering bastards messing up her life.”

“Just you?”

Sam took a calming breath. “Stay out of my way, old man. There’s more at stake here than you know.”

“Barry Cobb checked into the Stone’s Throw Bed and Breakfast two days ago,” Emmett said with equal calmness.

Sam dropped his head with a quiet expletive.

“We can be allies, or we can be adversaries,” Emmett continued. “It’s your choice, Sam. I love Willamina like a daughter, and I’ve been the only thing standing between her and outright chaos since her parents died. If you truly do love her, you have my blessing. But if you hurt her, you won’t be safe hiding on the moon. Abram Sinclair didn’t have fools for friends, so don’t underestimate me, and don’t disappoint me. And together, we just might be able to turn this mess into a miracle.”

Sam stared out at the harbor in silence, watching Willa rowing a small dinghy back toward the pier, the RoseWind gently bobbing on a mooring the exact same color as her eyes. He looked over at Emmett, silently studied him for several seconds, then turned and walked away.

Emmett watched the oldest Sinclair grandson stride off and smiled. Bram, you old bastard, I don’t know whether to curse you or thank you for dragging me into your cockamamie scheme. But it sure is damn invigorating squaring off against a man half my age.

“The ungrateful wretch,” Willa said, coming up behind him.

Emmett turned as she dropped her gear at her feet, a scowl on her face that would turn back a shark. “I pulled him out of the ocean—twice!—and he abandons me at the first whiff of food.”

“Twice?”

“The idiot jumped out of a helicopter, then pretended he was drowning so I’d fish him out of the sea. And when he got swept overboard yesterday, I had to fish him out again.” She broke into a nasty smile.

“After I dragged him a good quarter-mile.” Then she sobered. “Please, Em, tell me you didn’t have

anything to do with Abram’s will.”

Emmett pulled her into his embrace and rocked her back and forth. “Oh, Willy Wild Child, you know me better than that.”

She hugged him fiercely. “How come you didn’t warn me?”

He leaned away without releasing her. “I was caught between a rock and a hard place, Willy. I owed Bram one hell of a favor, and I gave him my word. But just because I couldn’t dissuade him from writing that will doesn’t mean I think it’s all bad. Everyone needs the barnacles scraped off them once in a while.”

“But what am I going to do, Em?”

He hugged her again. “I’ve been thinking about that ever since you called and told me you were sailing the RoseWind home.” He tightened his grip. “I believe the wisest thing for you to do, at least for now, is nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Emmett hid his amusement. “You’ve got three whole months. Why not sit back and see how this plays out? If it hasn’t solved itself by then, then we’ll use the loophole and end this farce.”

“There’s a loophole?”

“There’s never been a contract written that didn’t have a back door to sneak out of.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Sam seems like a bright boy; he’ll figure it out. Just give him some time, Willy.”

“I am not sitting around waiting for Samuel Sinclair to rescue me.”

“You’re not the only injured party here, Willy. Abram blindsided his grandsons, too. You can let Warren Cobb have Tidewater and still walk away a very wealthy woman, but those boys will have lost everything.”

“They’re young and capable; they can go out and build their own empires.”

Emmett sighed and stepped back. “I know you’re angry at everyone named Sinclair right now, but you’d never be able to live with yourself if Cobb destroyed Tidewater International. You’re going to have to play this game to the end.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Why not consider it an adventure? It’s not every day a woman has a wealthy, handsome man chasing after her.”

She picked up her bags, and heading down the pier. “Let’s go. It’s starting to rain.”

“What about Sam’s gear?”

“The seagulls can have it, for all I care.”

“Did you make a pass at him, Willy?” Emmett narrowed his eyes at her. “You did, didn’t you?” He pointed at her. “I know how your wild child takes over when you’re feeling the salt wind on your face. You’ve gotten your panties in a twist, little girl, because he up and turned you down, didn’t he?”

She continued down the pier, stalking past Sam sitting at a picnic table, stuffing a lobster roll into his mouth. Emmett picked up Sam’s bag and sauntered after her. Willa stopped a truck leaving the fishing pier, spoke to the driver, then climbed in on the passenger side. Emmett dropped the dry sack beside the picnic table, stepped up to the window, and ordered a lobster roll for himself.

“I thought Willa called you to take her home?” Sam said around a mouthful of lobster.

“She’s got her shorts in a twist right now.”

Sam snorted.

Emmett took his plate from the vendor and sat down. “You open to a bit of advice, Sam?”

The younger man gave a grunt as he chewed.

Emmett took a bite of his own roll, watching the solid sheet of rain sweep into the harbor as heavy drops began drumming on the canopy over their heads.

“Willa would have been on the Cat’s Tail with her parents when it went down off St. Maarten eight years ago,” he said softly. “But she’d married David Sommers that year, and it was the first time she didn’t make the trip south with them.” He looked over at Sam, who had stopped eating. “It’s my guess Willa believes that if she’d been with them when that squall hit, they’d still be alive.”

Sam said nothing.

“She was two months pregnant at the time. She miscarried about a week after we got the news,”

Emmett shrugged. “I don’t know if it would have happened anyway or if the pain of losing her parents caused it. I just know we very nearly lost Willa with the baby.” He looked back at Sam. “Willamina is the strongest person I’ve ever known, but even tempered steel has its breaking point.”

“Then if she’s witnessed so much tragedy, why would she choose to work with a bunch of old people and own a casket company?”

“For several reasons, though I think mostly because it gives her a sense of control. The pleasure of taking care of her aging parents was stolen from her, so she takes care of people who don’t have any family to look after them.” He sighed. “Like me, I suppose. She knows we’re all knocking on death’s door, and if she can’t stop it, she can at least control some small part of it. The caskets are her way of making sure we meet our maker in style.”

He chuckled. “She only intended to build them for the local market, but she made the mistake of putting a retired Fortune 500 CEO in charge of operations. I don’t think Silas Payne has ever heard of a cottage industry.”

“So Willa leaves all the day-to-day decisions to Payne?”

“She has to, because she’s too busy saving the world one person at a time.”

Sam gave Emmett the oddest look. “That’s exactly how I see her! She rushes around trying so damn hard to make sure everyone else is happy, she keeps tripping over her own feet.”

Emmett took another bite of his roll, pleased to realize that Sinclair was just as sharp as his grandfather.

Oh, yeah. Willy Wild Child had just met her match.

“You said you had some advice?” Sam said, picking up another roll and chomping down on it.

“It’s my guess you intend to have your brothers tie up Bram’s will in court to protect Tidewater, while you work on fixing Willa’s guilt problem so she’ll be free to marry you.”

“You don’t think that’s a good plan?”

Emmett set down his food and turned in his seat. “Being men, our first instinct is to fix everything. But women don’t want us fixing their problems for them. They want us to listen, get mad right along with them, and love them just the way they are.”

“So I should…?”

“You should forget about that damn bequest for a couple of months and sit back and see what happens. Get to know Willa by getting to know her sister, Shelby, and Jennifer and Cody. Hang around her factory, and talk to her workers. Roll up your sleeves and pitch in like Bram did. You’d be amazed at the clarity of mind you get when working with your hands.”

“And Barry Cobb?”

“Folks around here will take care of Cobb, with a little prodding from me,” he added with a grin.

“We’ve sent more than one flatlander down the road talking to himself. You just concentrate on Willa. Charm her socks off her. Make her feel like a giddy young girl again.”

Sam snorted and stuffed the last half of his roll into his mouth. Emmett stood up, tossed both their plates into the trash, and took out his wallet. “You might as well come stay with me,” he said, paying the vendor for both meals. “That way, folks will leave you alone.”

Sam nodded to Emmett. “Thanks for dinner. But I thought you said two ornery men didn’t make good housemates.”

“Ornery old men.” He stuffed the change into the tip jar, then pulled his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Sam. “I’m not worried about our rooming together, because age and treachery overcome youth and skill any day of the week. It’s the blue pickup parked in the end lot,” he said, nodding down the street. “And since rumor has it you don’t drown easy, and I can be a treacherous old bastard sometimes, I’ll wait here for you to pick me up.”

Chapter Fourteen

Willa stared through therain-blurred windshield at all the vehicles in her driveway. Was she ever going to be alone to think? One of the cars hadNew York plates, so it belonged to Abram’s housekeeper, Peg. Damn, she’d forgotten all about her moving in. And evenShelby was conspiring against her, since her sister’s minivan also sat in her cluttered driveway.

When had she lost control of her life?