Bad Traveler Read online

  “The leaves are already gone from the trees. I missed fall.” Her wistful tone tugged at his heart, making him wish he could glue the leaves back on the trees to make her smile.

  During the drive, she tried to relax and think about the promise of better days. She focused on objects in the distance and deep breathing to help ease any lingering feelings of queasiness. After all his kindness, the last thing she wanted to do was to get sick in Kyle’s car. The flat, straight, easy drive ran under an hour. There wasn’t enough time to feel ill and little time to wallow in a humiliating rather than triumphant return home. As if sensing her trepidation, he didn’t push conversation, for which she was grateful.

  She hadn’t been home for two years. Her last visit had been a weeklong jaunt during the summer for sister Keira’s graduation. Chloe’s father had refused to come along, which was okay since mostly she fought with her parents over career plans. They wanted her to go back to school for an advanced degree rather than working in retail for her whole life.

  They questioned plenty of other decisions in her life like when she would get a career and why she stayed with someone who was so self-centered he wouldn’t stand beside her at a family event. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, she might have listened to what they were saying. But she wouldn’t have Chloe. She would do anything for her daughter, even coming back home with her proverbial tail between her legs.

  Let the past go. To make the best life for her daughter, she needed to focus on the positive. To start her own business took determination, but she’d learned so much while working for the restaurant-supply shop. For once, she had a plan, an honest-to-God business plan typed on real paper. Only after drafting one did she allow herself to leave Phoenix and return home.

  “You’ll have to help me find your house, but would you like to take a quick tour of the downtown area? I was surprised how has much changed since we were undergrads.”

  “Let’s take the tour.” She wasn’t good company, but he was. Besides, his suggestion spared her persuading him to take the long way home for the sake of her sleeping baby.

  “Germano’s is still here.”

  “Yum! They were always the best pizza in town; of course, they were the most expensive, too. Ooh—there’s the Tree House. Remember freshman year when your military friend bought us beer there, and later, we were both tipsy and ran into our history TA? I was so worried he’d tell my father I was drunk in public.” Her memory of the night was a bit fuzzy, but she was pretty sure she kissed him on the cheek without much of a reaction from him. That night she realized she would always be no more than a friend to him. “Looks like the sandwich shop went out of business.”

  “Yeah, the used-CD shop is gone.” He made a right onto a side street. “So is the teahouse that used to be across from the movie theater.”

  The old teahouse would be The Sweet Spot as soon as she signed the lease. From the photos on the Internet and the inspector’s report, the inside needed a thorough cleaning. Brown paper covered the windows, but a friend of her sister’s promised to paint the logo on the window. She hated the existing floor but liked the tables and chairs. So long as a contractor completed the required electrical upgrades, she could open the doors before the calendar turned.

  “Thanks for the tour. Turn here. My parents are on the other side of Main Street.”

  She gave directions until they stopped in front of an older brick two story with the well-maintained yards typical of the year-round residents. He pulled into the driveway leading to the detached garage. After he shut off the engine, she touched his forearm and considered those dangerous eyes that made her want to melt.

  “You’ve been so good to Chloe and me today. I don’t know what we would have done without you. Thanks for rescuing me.”

  Driven by impulse, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. Heat rose in her cheeks. She’d been presumptuous. He didn’t want her attention. She climbed out of the car, opened the rear door, and removed Chloe’s car seat as fast as she could.

  She kissed him, again. By his count, this was the third time, and although he was pretty drunk the night they went to the Tree House freshman year, he thought she planted her lips on his. Nothing else happened between them that night. She’d never seemed interested in him as more than a friend, even when he invited her to his military formal sophomore year. There was that one other kiss at a party, but he might have imagined it, too. The war had done strange things to his head. He’d dreamed of kissing her often enough. This time, he was sober and awake. And so was she. But it was nothing more than a brotherly kiss.

  Charlotte’s car sat in the open, detached garage. Gwen’s parents rushed over to help unload the luggage, preventing him from recreating the feel of her lips soft and light against his cheek. After a quick reintroduction to Professor James Jones, he helped bring in the various bags. Holding Chloe, Charlotte played traffic director.

  “Just take everything upstairs to Gwen’s old room.” She waved a hand down the hall when Gwen stood at the base of a flight of steps.

  “Follow me.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. Was she being coy or normal? He couldn’t remember any more. Why hadn’t he turned his head an inch or two and kissed her back? Then he would have known.

  In the lead, she carried the diaper bag and the portable crib; he managed the two larger suitcases. He hated stairs. She entered the second door on the right and plopped her bags on the bed. The room was beige with a soft pink floral-print cover on the bed and vases of fake pink flowers on the nightstand and dresser. The room didn’t suit her.

  “My parents turned my old room into a ‘tasteful’ guest suite,” she spoke, as if reading his mind.

  From the air quotes she used around the word tasteful, he surmised she liked the decor about as much as he did. His ex-wife decorated in a similar style. Their house had been more akin to a mid-price hotel chain than a homey place to unwind.

  “I think we’ll need to move the dresser so I can set up the Pack ’n Play.”

  With extended arms, she used her body to measure the dresser then opened the closet and approximated the dresser’s size.

  “It should fit in here. It might be a tight squeeze, given the hanging clothes, but we can do it if I clean out the bottom. Look out.” She got on all fours and tossed shoes and purses onto the bed.

  “Can I help?”

  “Could you clear off the dresser and make sure the path is clear?”

  He found himself once again distracted by her rear view, but by the time she stood up, he’d finished his jobs. Together, they tackled the dresser. She steered as he pushed, and they piled all the shoes and purses into the small gaps on either side of the dresser.

  He pulled the portable crib out of its green cover. The fabric-wrapped metal bars didn’t look like a bed. “How does this thing work?”

  “It’s easier than it looks.” With a few swift arm movements reminding him of an orchestra conductor or at least Bugs Bunny pretending to be a conductor, she assembled the crib in less than two minutes.

  She glanced at him with a triumphant smile that quickly changed to something else. “You know, I’m not supposed to have boys in my room unsupervised. We should head back downstairs before I get grounded.”

  “We wouldn’t want that to happen.”

  He almost believed she was flirting with him. The warmth of her soft lips still lingered on his cheek. But then he remembered she’d called him a hero.

  After saying good-byes, he returned to his car. The mint aroma lingered. He touched his cheek. Idiot. She hadn’t been interested in him back in college when he had more to offer, before he became ruined. She deserved better than his damaged self.

  Chapter Three

  Although she had negotiated a lease on the phone, Mom insisted on joining her at the walk-through and the real estate office. The carpet was in worse shape than expected. On the plus side, the upgraded electrical box necessary to pass code had sufficient capacity to install an additional circuit for the mixe
r. Better still, the property owner’s daughter had majored in English fifteen years ago and raved about her advisor, Professor Charlotte Jones. Mom not only remembered the young lady, but had stayed in touch with her as she pursued a career in publishing. The upshot was a fifty-dollar monthly deduction in her rent. That small amount would allow her to turn a profit sooner.

  The space needed work prior to her grand opening. The endless phone calls and paperwork kept her too busy to socialize or enjoy her hometown. Kyle would have found some way to make her smile if she had time. At least Chloe’s laugh provided all the motivation necessary to get through the long days and red tape.

  There was no way she could open the seating area in two weeks for the end of the semester, but the end of December was a possibility, so long as she filed paperwork with the health department in advance. The walk-in refrigerator was in terrific shape but retained a stale odor after months of being run at the warmest possible temperature. The ovens functioned. Once she brought in her commercial mixer and baking trays, she planned to bake cookies and discover all the quirks, but only in balance with for-profit baking. If she put fliers in the dorms, libraries, and the student center, she should pick up some sales before the semester ended. So long as her sales stayed low, she’d bring in a little bit of money, and generate buzz for the Sweet Shop without requiring a full set of permits for the home kitchen.

  By renovating the storefront through November and December, she would be ready to open for the start of the semester in the second week of January. For cost’s sake, she anticipated doing a lot of the cosmetic work herself. But if she couldn’t find a reliable, affordable contractor to handle the big-ticket items like modernizing the wiring and replacing the hideous carpet with a more modern wood floor, she would be in desperate shape. The reality of the project weighed on her shoulders. If the business failed…. She refused to consider the possibility. Chloe needed her to be a success.

  Mom insisted on treating her to lunch at the student center to celebrate, in spite of her objections. Campus obligations meant Mom would stay on campus while she would walk home, pushing Chloe uphill in the stroller. Both parents shared their vehicles, schedule permitting. The town wasn’t too big, but the idea of walking over a mile and back in the snow to get diapers held little appeal. A car would be nice, but paying for one meant delaying an apartment hunt. Three weeks at her parents’ house had proved the guest room provided insufficient space for two people long-term.

  First things first. Hiring a contractor for the floors and outlets took priority. There had to be someone other than the father-and-son operation recommended by the property owner. For one thing, they had the reputation of being the most expensive in town. For another, she still couldn’t look the father in the eye after he caught her stripping down to skinny-dip the first and only time she’d tried.

  Kyle entered the noisy cafeteria as she lifted her fork to take a bite of her salad. His gaze focused on her as he strode toward the table with an intensity that sent a tingle down her spine.

  She hadn’t seen him since he drove her home from the airport, although he’d stayed close to her thoughts. Her cheeks grew warm thinking of how hard he kissed her back after that little peck in his car—at least that’s what happened when she replayed the moment in her dreams. Keeping him at a distance minimized her risk of further humiliation, but it sure was lonely.

  “Hi.” He smiled, making eye contact with her, then bent and gave Chloe a tickle on her cheek. “You look happy. Is that because you have a yummy lunch?” Chloe kicked her legs in delight, eyes sparkling, but Kyle’s ears turned red. He tucked his chin against his chest, offering Gwen a sly grin. “I sound like my sister. If you meet her, let’s keep this our secret.”

  “Promise.” Her chuckle escaped. His eyes narrowed to a glower, but his lips smiled teasingly.

  He was so good with Chloe; any child would be lucky to have him as a dad. Her stomach knotted in that strange way it always had when she’d seen him with Brooke. Could this be jealousy? She shook the thought out of her head. She had enough problems to think about. Besides, the way his face lit up as he approached their table had everything to do with Chloe and nothing with her. Jealousy wasn’t an option.

  “We’re here celebrating my official lease on the old teahouse. Care to join us?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m sure we can find a chair…somewhere.” Mom glanced at the surrounding tables, her tone full of doubt.

  “Congratulations.” His smile stretched broader and crinkled the corners of his eyes in a way that made her insides go gooey. “And thank you for the invitation, Charlotte, but I can’t stay. The coaching staff is having a working lunch. Some other time, maybe? Are you still looking for someone to taste test recipes for you?”

  “Yes, I am. And I’m looking for a reliable contractor who isn’t someone I dated in high school. Do you know of anyone by any chance?”

  His eyes grew rounder, showing almost as much white as Chloe’s.

  “My cousin, Logan. He’s more of a handyman, but what type of work do you need done?”

  “The floors are disgusting. I need the old carpet out and wood of some sort installed. Also, I need electrical work.”

  “I’ll call you later with his number. He subcontracts with a few flooring installers and does some electrical and as annoying as he is—”

  “But is he reputable? Can he provide references?”

  “Mom. Let him finish.”

  “I assure you, Logan does good work. Wait a minute, Gwen, I should withhold information until baked goods come my way.” His furrowed his brow, but his eyes twinkled mischief.

  “I’ll even use top-shelf ingredients if you come through with that number.” Conversation failed her. Her cheeks ached from grinning, but she couldn’t stop even as she heard Keira’s voice in her mind, that’s a frightening amount of teeth. He was so hot, her tongue stopped working. On the plus side, she couldn’t say something that made her sound like a complete idiot.

  “Okay, then. I’ll call you later. Bye.”

  “Bye,” she squeaked.

  “He seems like a nice man.” Mom pulled her back to her surroundings.

  “He is.”

  “I heard Coach Meyer took a special trip to see him in the hospital.”

  “When? Meyer offered him the job when he retired from the military.”

  “Oh. I suppose you would know. I hear rumors sometimes about what happened.”

  “I don’t believe in gossip.” Anymore.

  ***

  Less than a week later, she stood in the kitchen of her shop with Logan Collins. Eager for some quick holiday cash, he wanted to do the floors in the dining area first, but she insisted on the outlets first. If he couldn’t get the job done, she needed to call the McMahons as soon as possible. When she called for a comparison quote, they advised they were booking into the New Year. As they argued in the kitchen over the order of work, he seemed more like a basketball coach than his calm cousin. Logan had darker hair and a blustery manner, but Kyle had assured her he’d cooperate, eventually.

  “Fine. I’ll do it your way, but there will be a lot more dust to clean up in the kitchen area since the floors will make a mess. Don’t blame me if your mixer chokes up with sawdust.”

  Valid point. “Can’t you saw outside? The McMahons said they would.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. As near as she could tell, he swallowed his pride; her confidence soared.

  “Can’t count on the weather.”

  “But you can install plastic sheeting. You’re only replacing the carpet, not kitchen tile, and that stops at the counter.”

  “You’ll need a step-down connector between the floorings. Even with sheeting, you’ll get dust everywhere.”

  “I need to get the equipment boxes out of my parents’ garage and test the mixer to make sure it wasn’t damaged in the move. I can’t test it until I have the proper outlet. That’s why I need it right away.”

  “I can’t install floors today a
nyway because you haven’t ordered it. Besides, the flooring needs to acclimate for a few days, and I need to see what type of subfloor I’m dealing with.”

  She pulled out a list of her preferred flooring choices complete with item numbers and manufacturing information.

  “You know what you like. I like that about you. The colors are similar, but that laminate will hold up to foot and chair traffic better than bamboo and be cheaper than wood. If I can find a similar mid-maple tone for less, do you trust my judgment?”

  “Depends how much less it is.”

  He chuckled as a knock on the door drew their attention. A familiar face peered in the front window; she rushed to open the door.

  “Kyle, come in and look at the remodel before. Logan is going to replace a kitchen outlet, so I can install the mixer. I have my first delivery this week from those fliers I put up around campus. I’ll bake up some cookies and brownies at home for sale, but the sooner I figure out the oven quirks here, the better.”

  “Can I help? I don’t have to be in the office for a few hours yet.”

  He looked good today, but he always did when he wore a tie and snug sweater. Her work clothes, smudged with dust from her earlier cleaning efforts, were a mess, but who had time for vanity? She had a lot to accomplish, and she had promised Mom she’d be home by three.

  “You don’t want to mess up your clothes.”

  “They’ll wash.”

  “I have a bunch of equipment and more cleaning supplies to bring in.” His arm felt strong as she squeezed his biceps. “You think you’re up for it, muscles?”

  She flashed back to those days in college, watching him swim. His long arms cut through the water, aided by those broad shoulders made strong through basketball. When he stood, water rolled down his chest over six-pack abs. Did he still look like that? Her gaze dipped lower. He seemed fit enough. Her attention returned to his face after scanning him from head to waist and back again. The intensity in his expression unnerved her. Did he read my mind? Did I offend him again? Or did he like being checked out?