“But I’m just moving in. I don’t have any cookies.”
He frowned, considering. “Can you get one by tomorrow?”
“You’re willing to work on credit?”
“Sure.” He smiled for the first time, revealing the fact that he was missing two front teeth. “A cookie tomorrow’s better than none at all, right? Maybe you’ll even give me two, since I had to wait.”
Clearly, he was a bright boy. “What’s your name?” she asked with a grin for the devilish glint in his eyes.
“Teddy.”
“I’m Grace, Teddy. And it sounds like we have a deal.”
“Thanks!” He dashed over to the flower bed and began pulling weeds just as a moving van rambled down the street. George, driving the rental truck.
Her on-again, off-again boyfriend smiled and waved when he saw her, then pulled into the drive.
“This is quite a house,” he said as he got out.
She motioned him up the walkway. “Come see. It’s old, but I love the high ceilings and heavy-paned windows, the wallpaper, the floors. It’s so…her, you know? I close my eyes and I can practically smell the spices she used. It’s almost like she’s still here.”
“Who’s ‘she’?” he asked.
“Evonne.”
“The woman who died recently? The one who used to sell things in her front yard?”
Grace nodded and held the door for him.
“How’d you manage to get her house?”
“I told you on the phone when I gave you the address, remember?”
“I’m sorry. I was preoccupied with the Wrigley case. It’s going sideways on me.”
She closed the door behind him. “The intruder rape?”
“Yeah.”
“That is a problem,” she said. But she found it difficult to really empathize. She’d seen the evidence stacked against his client, knew in her bones that the thirty-year-old bricklayer was dangerous and violent. She certainly didn’t want to see this guy walk away from what he’d done just so George could win the case.
“Yeah, it is. But tell me again how you got this house. You seem happy with it.”
“It was just a matter of timing, really. Evonne’s family wanted to sell. But real estate isn’t moving very fast around here, so I convinced them to collect three months’ rent before putting it on the market.”
“You’re not going to get too comfortable here, are you?” he asked.
“In Stillwater?” she replied. He was the one who’d pressed her to visit, to finally resolve the situation between her and her family. Now he wasn’t pleased that she’d taken his advice?
“Oh, yeah.” He wiped the bead of sweat rolling down from his dark hair, which was beginning to thin on top. “Guess not, huh? You hate this town.”
It really wasn’t that clear-cut. But he’d been raised by two affluent, doting parents and had a younger sister who adored him. He didn’t understand how complex her background was, how literal the skeletons in her closet. As a result, he preferred to dismiss her reservations about marriage. Can’t you just…get over it? he’d asked before their last breakup.
She wished she could.
“I have no problem with the countryside, the slow pace of life, the architecture,” she said as he looked around. It was the memories that plagued her. And, today, the heat. But she had to contend with the heat in Jackson, too.
“You’re right. There’s something classic and dignified about this place,” he said.
“Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll get you a cold drink.”
He jerked his head toward the front. “Who’s the boy weeding outside?”
Teddy had rocked back on his knees and silently appraised George as he walked by, but Grace could see through the window that he was back at work.
“One of the neighbor kids.”
“He’s a handsome boy. Good thing he’s not twenty years older. I’d worry that he might steal you away.”
Grace hesitated, easily recognizing the subtle plea for reassurance. She cared about George. Even if he didn’t always understand her needs, he’d been a loyal friend. Once her heart was whole, she planned to marry him and start a family.
“You’re not going to lose me,” she said.
He caught her hand and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I’m glad to hear that. When you come home, we’ll forget about everything and move on.”
We’ll forget… He often tried to encourage her with such talk, but he had no scars to worry about. He simply didn’t want to hear anything that wasn’t a “yes.”
“Of course we will,” she said, because she needed him to maintain his faith in her.
He studied her as though he wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe that. Then he kissed her.
Grace slid her arms around his neck and enjoyed the kiss—until he deepened it. Then she felt that old stubborn resistance rise inside her like bile. Pulling away, she smiled to cover her less-than-enthusiastic response. “Let’s get you something to drink, okay?”
“Sounds good.” He followed her, stepping around the few boxes she’d brought to Stillwater in her car. “What’re you going to do with yourself here, day after day?” he asked.
“I’ve been thinking about that.”
“So have I. Why don’t I bring your computer, so you can act as a paralegal for me?”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’d jeopardize your clients by allowing a prosecutor access to your files?”
“My gosh, Grace, would you relax? You’re off for three months. You won’t be handling any of these cases.”
It would still be a huge breach of ethics. Grace wasn’t interested. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she said. “I left my computer behind for a reason. I want a clean break from anything to do with my job.” She was determined to finally face her demons, not anesthetize herself with more of the same routine.
“Then what?”
In the kitchen they were surrounded by tall, painted cabinets and elaborate crown molding. “I’m going to use the recipes Evonne sent me.”
His expression turned condescending. “Make homemade soaps and lotions and stuff like that?”
“Exactly.” Removing a pitcher of raspberry iced tea from the refrigerator, she poured him a glass.
“Now I’m not worried at all,” he joked.