She’d opted for the change of subject. And he must have been
suffering from a mental lapse when he’d told her about that. Why on earth would
he talk to her about something he hadn’t even told his family?
“Not yet, but I have to.” He couldn’t suppress a grin. “I just heard
that I passed the test. I’ve been called for an interview.”
And once again, he’d told her something he’d told no one else.
She came closer, as if she needed to study his face seriously.
“Are you happy about it?”
Was he? A good question. “I guess. The arson squad would be a
challenge, if I got it. Lots of brainwork.” He grimaced. “To tell the truth,
I’m better at physical challenges than mental ones.”
Maybe that was the problem. He liked the physical risks of
firefighting, maybe too much. He’d told Laura about Dad’s heart attack, but he
hadn’t told her all of it. Not about the part he’d played.
“Just tell them.” She put her hand lightly on his arm. “They
might surprise you. And if they’re upset, at least it will be out in the open.
You can’t deal with it as long as they don’t know.”
“You’re pretty good in the advice department, you know that?”
She smiled slightly, shaking her head. “I should have learned
something from all the mistakes I’ve made.”
A man who was interested in a woman would follow up on a comment
like that. But he’d just told himself how wrong it would be to get interested
in her, hadn’t he? Whatever he said next had to be noncommittal.
“Well, given the way rumors fly around the department, I’d
better come clean before they hear it from someone else.”
Laura didn’t move, but she seemed to draw back a little. Her
smile faded. She got the message.
She turned her attention to the bucket, wringing a sponge out as
if it were a very important action. “Speaking of the department, I’d say you’ve
more than done your duty here. The fire damage is cleaned up, and I’m back on
target with my renovation.”
It was a nice, polite dismissal. Well, that was what he wanted,
wasn’t it? He couldn’t get involved with her. He couldn’t let Mandy start to depend
on him. Everyone knew he wasn’t dependable when it came to relationships.
He took a breath. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to find the
words to agree with her. “I’ll just check that back door to be sure the new
lock is in right, and then I’ll be on my way.”
She nodded, her smile stiff.
Right. He headed for the kitchen before he could say something
he shouldn’t.
Fifteen minutes later he was still fiddling with a perfectly
good lock. Maybe he ought to face the fact that he didn’t want to leave.
This isn’t about what you want, dummy. It’s about what’s the
right thing to do.
His head came up at the sound of voices in the other room.
Apparently Laura had company.
“Mr. Potter.” Laura didn’t sound happy to be interrupted yet
again.
“Bradley, please. I thought you were going to call me Bradley.”
Bradley Potter. Nice, well-off, the last son of one of Suffolk’s
founding families. Brad was a successful businessman, good-looking, single.
Laura ought to be friendlier to someone like that.
“Another list of changes?” She didn’t sound particularly
friendly at the moment. He heard the rustle of papers. “But I’ve already
complied with the requirements from the historic preservation committee.”
“I’m so sorry.” Bradley’s tone exuded sympathy. “I wish I didn’t
have to bring you bad news, but I’m sure you understand that we have to be very
careful about any renovations that go on in the historic district.”
“I know that.” Laura snapped the words.
Maybe he’d better get in there before she got into a fight with
one of the most influential men in town. He strolled into the room, enjoying
the look of surprise on Brad’s face at the sight of him.
“Hey, Brad. What are you up to?”
“Ryan. What are you doing here?” Brad nodded stiffly, his
immaculate dress shirt and flannel pants incongruous in what was essentially a
construction site.
Still, he was a lot better for Laura and Mandy than a
commitment-phobic firefighter.
“Just checking up on some of the repairs after the fire. You did
know that Ms. McKay had a fire out in the back, didn’t you?”
“I heard.” Brad turned toward Laura. “I’m so sorry for all the
trouble you’ve been having.” He nodded toward the papers in her hand. “And that
I have to add to your problems at a time like this.”
Mandy came to lean against Ryan, and he put one hand on her
shoulder. Maybe the child sensed the tension in the room and had picked him for
a friend. Laura certainly looked as if she’d gotten some bad news.
“So how exactly are you adding to Ms. McKay’s problems?” Stay
out of it, he told himself. But he didn’t seem to be listening.
Laura looked up from the papers, her face pale and tight. “The
historic preservation committee has landed me with a new set of requirements.
Two pages’ worth of things they didn’t tell me on the initial inspection.”
“As I was saying to Laura, the preservation committee is
especially careful of any renovation in the historic district.” Brad’s tone was
as smooth as silk. He must have practiced that statement a few times. “I might
personally think they’re being a little unreasonable, but I have to do as the
committee tells me.”
“Let me have a look at what they’re asking.” He reached for the
papers.
But before he could reach them, Brad took them from Laura’s
hands. “This is just a work sheet. I’ll have a more official list drawn up and
drop it off for you.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was tight.
Brad seemed to hesitate, glancing from Ryan to Laura. “Look, I
know these changes seem unduly harsh. Why don’t I have a word with the
committee members unofficially, before this goes to its final format? Maybe I
can get them to ease up on some of their requirements.”
“Would you?” Laura’s smile blazed, and Brad blinked as if the
sun had just come out.
“Of course.” His voice warmed suddenly. “Of course I would.”
Hadn’t he been telling himself that Brad Potter was just the
sort of man for Laura? He shouldn’t feel like punching the guy just because
Laura was looking at him as if he were some sort of hero.
Laura hadn’t seen much of the Flanagans for several days, and
nothing at all of Ryan. She ran the paint roller smoothly along the downstairs
wall, admiring the rich burgundy she’d decided on after researching the
original colors.
The floor refinishing had gone beautifully, and now that she
could get the paint on the walls, this area was really shaping up. It would be
perfect for a small shop catering to the visitors in the historic district or a
lovely living room for a buyer who wanted a private home.
Nolie Flanagan had enthused about the color when she’d stopped
by earlier. She’d come with an invitation for Mandy to visit the farm and see
the animals.
Laura had been evasive. Mandy would love to see the animals, of
course, but she couldn’t help thinking it was better not to get too involved
with the Flanagan family. She didn’t want to be anyone’s object of charity, no
matter how sincere they were.
She frowned at the fresh paint. She ought to be honest with
herself, at least. The truth was that she should stay away from them because
she found herself far too attracted to Ryan’s easy smile for her peace of mind.
All she could concentrate on right now was Mandy’s welfare.
There was no room in her life for anything else. She was happy Ryan hadn’t been
around. So why did she feel so out of sorts?
She glanced at her watch. The plasterers were supposed to be
here by now to do the third-floor walls. That was one thing she hadn’t felt
competent to tackle herself. She put down the roller and stretched. Maybe she’d
better take a break and call the plasterer.
Five minutes later she returned the phone to the cradle
carefully, because if she didn’t, she just might throw the receiver against the
wall. She clutched her hair with her hands, heedless of the paint she was
probably spreading around, and squeezed her eyes closed. What else could
possibly go wrong?
“What’s the matter?” The voice came like an echo of her
thoughts.
She swung around, blinking back tears. She wouldn’t give in to
that weakness, especially not in front of Ryan.
“Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.” And why did she always have to
look like a total wreck whenever Ryan saw her?
He crossed the room toward her, his gaze fixed on her face.
“Something’s wrong. What?”
She shook her head, appalled at how glad she was to see him.
“Plasterers. They were supposed to show up today. Instead they’re suddenly so
busy that they can’t possibly squeeze me in for at least a couple of weeks.”
“You can’t wait a couple of weeks?”
“Impossible. I have to get this done.” She could hear her voice
veering out of control, and she couldn’t seem to help it. “If I’m not finished
by the time my prospective buyer comes, she’ll go elsewhere. And Mandy’s
surgery—”
She stopped, fighting for control. She wasn’t going to spill all
her troubles to Ryan, no matter how sympathetic he was.
And then he touched her shoulder gently, and all her resolve
disappeared. She choked on a sob, and he pulled her against him.
“Don’t.” She tried ineffectually to move away. “You’ll get paint
on your shirt.”
“It’ll clean.” His arms were strong around her, demanding
nothing, just offering support. He stroked her back in gentle circles,
reminding her of the way she comforted Mandy. “Just relax. You don’t have to be
a superhero all the time.”
She wanted to protest that she did, but it was so comforting to
stand in his embrace, feeling the tension easing out of her at his touch. His
lips brushed her temple.
That touch brought her to her senses. She sucked in a breath and
drew back, still in the circle of his arms. “Sorry. I don’t usually do that.”
“You’re allowed.” His gaze probed. “Let me get this straight.
You need the money from the sale of the property to pay for Mandy’s surgery.”
She nodded, pulling herself free and turning away from that
intent gaze. “The insurance we have doesn’t cover a cochlear implant.”
“If you waited on the surgery until you’re in better shape
financially—”
“No.” Again her tone veered upward, and she fought to control
it. “We’re not going to wait. The longer Mandy goes without the implant, the
harder it will be. She starts school in September. I have to give her every
chance at a hearing life. I have to.”
“Okay.” He probably hoped that calm tone of his would soothe
her. “Seems like the first step is to get a plasterer in here, ASAP.”
She was glad he’d given her an excuse to be annoyed with him. “I
never thought of that.”
He grinned. “Sarcasm will get you nowhere, lady. It just so
happens one of my high-school buddies recently took over his father’s
plastering business. I’ll call him.”
“He’ll probably be booked solid. They all are.” It had taken her
weeks to find someone, and Ryan proposed to do it with a single call.
“Trust me, he’ll fit you in. I know too much about him for him
to say no to me.”
Hope flickered in spite of her doubts. “That would be
wonderful.”
“Looks like it’s a good thing I stopped by today, although I
didn’t have plasterers in mind.”
“Why did you come, then?”
“I thought you’d want to know.” His smile broadened. “I got the
call. I’ve been assigned to the arson squad on a probationary basis.”
“Ryan, congratulations. That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, it is. I didn’t realize how much I wanted this until it
came through. I’m going to be working with Garrett North. He’s tough, but he’s
the best.”
He was as enthusiastic as a kid with a new toy, and she couldn’t
help smiling with him.
“I take it you’ve told your family. How are they taking it?”
He waggled his hand. “So-so. Not as bad as I thought, actually.”