скачать книгу бесплатно
If she hadn’t been distracted by that kiss and her newfound feelings for him she would have remembered their conversation in the diner sooner.
Throwing off the covers, Jessie paced to the room’s en suite bathroom and ran herself a glass of water. What did he paint? Whether or not he had any talent, he was certainly dedicated. He was at it every afternoon and most of the night.
Draining the glass, Jessie rinsed it out and walked back across the deep pile carpet to the bedroom window. She peeked out of the curtains. She felt silly, like an over-eager schoolgirl, fantasising about her first major crush and spying on him in the middle of the night. But she couldn’t help it. This intriguing new turn of events only made him all the more irresistible.
His lights were still on.
She was dying to see what he was doing. After all, art was her passion, too.
When she’d left college, she’d kidded herself for a whole year that she was destined to take the art world by storm.
After a series of rejections, though, from a string of different galleries, she’d had to admit that, although she was passionate about art, her talent—like her portfolio—had been woefully inadequate.
It wasn’t that she was dreadful; she just wasn’t ever going to be great. Being able to see her own inadequacies had been her curse, she’d thought this spring, when she’d finally given up her job as a layout designer in a tiny print shop in Soho.
She’d been miserable doing the mundane, boring designs for pamphlets. Not only did it waste what little design talent she had, it was also a million miles from the beauty and elegance that she’d once hoped to embrace.
When Ali and Linc had asked her to come out to America for the summer and help out with Emmy while Ali awaited the birth of her second child, she’d jumped at the chance. It would be a chance to forget about her miserable failure with Toby as well as her pathetic attempt to start a career as a designer. Linc had also arranged a working visa, so she could ‘keep her options open,’ as he put it.
Being with Ali’s family had lifted her spirits and now that she had her new job at the little gallery in Cranford, she finally felt as if she weren’t spinning her wheels any more. She was starting afresh at last. Time to get a new master plan. Maybe this was where her talent lay—in the appreciation of art.
Jessie let the curtain fall back down. But how the heck was she going to make a life’s work out of it if she had an artist living in the same house as her—or as good as—and it had taken her over a week to figure it out? Okay, so she had been slightly distracted by other things where Monroe was concerned, but really. It was totally pathetic.
Whipping the sheet back and climbing into bed, Jessie was struck by the sight of Monroe that evening when he had said goodbye to her. That cocky grin back in place.
Well, okay, so Monroe had a pretty devastating effect on her, but she ought to be able to ask the guy to let her have a look at his work. Fluffing up her pillow, she plopped her head down on it. She would march over to his apartment tomorrow when she got back from work and demand to see what he was painting. How hard could it be?
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘MONROE, we need to talk.’ Linc’s face was set, his voice firm.
‘Yeah, what about?’ Monroe raised an eyebrow. He didn’t like it. They were standing in the kitchen of the main house. It was Saturday morning and, after the unsettling feelings stirred at last night’s barbecue, the last thing he needed now was a brother-to-brother chat.
‘Here.’ Reaching into the fridge, Linc took out two frosty Pepsis and handed one across the breakfast bar. ‘Take this and sit down.’
Monroe hooked a leg over the stool and opened his soda. He took a long drag, he’d been repairing the deer fencing most of the morning and his mouth felt as if he’d been chewing sand.
‘What’s the problem?’ Monroe was glad to hear the easy confidence back in his voice.
Jessie had spooked him pretty bad the night before with that crack about him being scared of people caring. He’d spent the night painting—and thinking hard about what she’d said. It had taken a while for him to sort it out—too damn long, in fact—but everything was cool now.
Why should Jessie’s comment bother him? She didn’t know him. Nobody did. By the early hours of the morning, he’d managed to dismiss what she’d said and think about what had happened after.
Jessie had made it pretty clear she might be interested in a little fun. Given that, and the fact that she turned him inside out with lust, it was going to be impossible for him to ignore her for much longer. But fun was all it would be. Simple and uncomplicated. He could give her a good time. He just had to make sure she understood fun was all it would be.
‘I want you to stop mowing the lawn.’ The sharp tone of Linc’s voice brought Monroe back to the matter at hand. Linc took a sip of his Pepsi, the movement jerky and tense. ‘And tuning the damn cars, and working so hard around the place, for heaven’s sake.’
‘The BMW needed a tune.’ Monroe kept his tone casual. ‘I can’t believe you’d treat such a beautiful machine with such little respect.’
Linc slammed his can down, knocking over one of the framed snapshots perched at the end of the breakfast bar. ‘The damn car’s never run better in years. That’s not the point and you know it. You’re a guest here. I don’t want you working to pay your way.’
Monroe took another sip, watched his brother over the rim. ‘I’m not a freeloader, Linc. I told you that from the get-go. Either you accept the work or I’m out of here.’
‘Hell.’ Linc drank down the last of the small can, crushed it in one hand and flung it in the trash.
Hearing the resignation in his brother’s voice, Monroe relaxed as he put his own soda down. As far as he was concerned, the matter was settled. He reached for the photo that had fallen over. Flipping it upright, he studied the picture inside.
It was a wedding shot, but not the stiff formal type. Ali looked sexy and happy in a full-length white dress while Linc stood behind her. He was wearing a black tux, but the tie was gone, the top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone and his arms were wrapped around his bride’s midriff. The smile on his face was relaxed and proud. The rest of the wedding party was arranged around them, all grinning or laughing at the camera.
‘Nice shot,’ Monroe said as he stared at the snapshot, ashamed at the familiar tug of envy.
Linc leaned across to take a look. ‘Ali’s dad took it. It was a great day.’
Monroe could hear the bone-deep contentment in his brother’s voice and struggled not to feel jealous. He absolutely refused to go there again.
It was then he spotted the vivacious figure in a clingy fire-engine-red dress at the far left of the picture. The bold colour should have clashed with the mass of dark red hair, but instead it displayed the young woman’s soft, translucent skin and luscious curves to perfection. Before he could stop himself, Monroe ran his thumb gently down the image.
‘Jess is a real stunner, isn’t she?’ Linc murmured.
‘What?’ Monroe looked up to find his brother watching him. ‘I guess so.’ He put the photo back where it belonged. He could see the frown on Linc’s face and knew why it was there. ‘No need to worry, bro. I know she’s out of my league.’
Linc frowned. ‘What makes you think that?’he asked quietly.
Monroe lifted an eyebrow. ‘Oh, come on.’ He shrugged, tried to sound indifferent. ‘Even I can see that girl’s got commitment tattooed across her forehead in block letters and you and I both know I can barely spell the word.’
Linc’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why can’t you spell it, Monroe?’
Monroe drained the last of his soda and glared at his brother. ‘I don’t know, Linc.’ He couldn’t keep the bitter edge of sarcasm out of his voice. ‘Maybe because I was in juvie when I should have been graduating high school.’
Monroe stood up, his face rigid. Angry that his brother had made him lose the comfortable distance he’d struggled so long for the night before. Angrier still that he’d been forced to lie to Linc. Jessie might be out of his league, but he was going after her anyway.
Linc looked at him coolly for a moment before speaking. ‘What’s so scary about commitment, Monroe?’
Monroe’s jaw tensed, his brother’s words too damn reminiscent of what Jessie had said to him the night before. Didn’t any of these people get it? His thoughts and feelings were his business and nobody else’s.
‘I’m not scared of commitment,’ he snarled, and then stopped. Calm down. Keep it cool. Don’t let him see he’s rattled you. ‘I’m just not interested in it.’
‘Jess is, so you should be careful there, Roe,’ Linc said evenly. ‘You could hurt her.’
‘I’m not going to hurt her.’ To hell with keeping it cool. ‘And anyway, it’s none of your damn business.’
Sending the empty soda can sailing into the trash, Monroe stalked out of the kitchen.
Linc watched as his brother stormed off across the lawn towards the garage apartment, temper evident in each long, angry stride. He shook his head slowly, and smiled. ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ he said gently. ‘We’re family, Roe. And that makes it my business whether you like it or not.’
‘Hey, Monroe.’
Monroe caught Ali’s shouted greeting over the roar of the lawnmower and switched off the powerful machine.
He struggled for patience as she walked towards him. He didn’t want company. It had taken him most of the morning to calm down after his run-in with Linc.
As he watched her approach his eyes skidded down her figure. It had been dark last night and he hadn’t got a good look at her. But now in the noon sun, her belly looked enormous in the stretchy little summer dress. Embarrassed that he found the sight beautiful, he looked away. He concentrated on pulling the bandanna out of his back pocket and wiping his brow.
Drawing level with the riding mower, Ali sighed and rubbed her back. ‘You’re just the man I needed to talk to.’
Monroe dismounted slowly. ‘You got me.’
His glance seemed to flit to her abdomen again of its own accord.
Ali smiled. ‘Don’t panic, Monroe. I’m not due for at least another few weeks.’
Monroe felt his stomach pitch. ‘You’re gonna get bigger?’
She laughed. ‘Probably, but don’t worry. I won’t pop.’
Monroe spent some time tucking his bandanna into his back pocket before looking at her. He could see the smile in her eyes and relaxed enough to smile back at her.
She didn’t just look big. She looked gorgeous. Her sister Jessie would look the same when she had kids. He ruthlessly suppressed the thought. It wasn’t something he was ever going to see.
‘Anyway, enough about me and the bump,’ Ali remarked. ‘I wanted to thank you for all the work you’ve been doing around here. The people carrier drives like a dream now and the gardens look fantastic.’
‘You’re welcome.’ His shoulders tensed. ‘Linc hasn’t sent you over to tell me to stop, has he?’
‘No.’ She looked surprised. ‘Did he have words with you about it, then?’
‘Yeah.’ It annoyed him to realise it was still needling him.
‘I thought he might,’ Ali said slowly, a considering look in her eyes. ‘Linc’s a little hung up about money. He thinks because he’s got heaps of it, nobody else should pay for anything. He’s generous to a fault,’ Ali continued, the calm understanding in her face making Monroe feel edgy. ‘But he doesn’t always stop to consider the importance of pride and self-respect. Especially to people who’ve had to earn it the hard way.’
Monroe was speechless. How the hell did she know that about him? They’d only met a week or so ago.
‘Anyway—’Ali’s voice was light, but the look in her eyes as she registered his reaction was anything but ‘—I didn’t come to talk to you about Linc and his many shortcomings.’
Monroe tried to shake off his uneasiness. ‘Right.’
‘Linc’s got a problem at the New York office, so we’ve decided to base ourselves at the penthouse for a few weeks. We’re leaving tomorrow evening.’
‘No sweat.’ Did that include Jessie? he wondered.
‘The thing is, it’s Emmy’s sixth birthday next Tuesday.’
Monroe gave a quick grin, recalling Emmy’s endless chatter on the subject. ‘She might just have mentioned that a couple of times.’
‘I’ll bet she has.’ Ali grinned back. ‘We thought it might be nice, before we head off to Manhattan, if we had a little surprise birthday party for her tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Monroe refused to feel the little stab of pain as it occurred to him why Ali was telling him all this. ‘You want me to make myself scarce. It’s not a problem.’
‘What? No!’ Ali grabbed his arm. Her eyes, Monroe saw with amazement, were wide with shock. ‘Monroe, for goodness’ sake! I came staggering all the way out here—and, believe me, walking three hundred yards with a belly this size is no mean feat—to make sure you didn’t make yourself scarce tomorrow. I want you there. Emmy would be devastated if you didn’t turn up. We all would be.’
Now it was his turn to be amazed. He could see by the earnest look in her eyes that she was absolutely serious. ‘Are you sure about this?’
‘Monroe, I’m warning you, if you don’t show up, I’m going to—’ She broke off, grabbed her belly. ‘Oh!’
Monroe felt the blood drain out of his face. ‘What’s wrong, Ali? Is it the kid?’ He reached for her, but Ali only grinned when she got her breath back.
‘No, no. It’s okay.’ She kept hold of his hand, pulled it towards her. ‘The baby gave me the most almighty kick. Here, press down and you can feel it, too.’
She placed her hands over his and pushed his palm firmly into the stretchy cotton fabric. Monroe was about to draw back, miserably embarrassed, when he felt two quick jabs.
‘Damn!’ His heart jumped into his throat.
‘Isn’t it great? This one’s a real slugger. Emmy used to just lie there all day. I guess she made up for it, though, when she got out.’
Lost in happy memories, Ali didn’t look at him until he dragged his palm away.
Her face sobered instantly. ‘Monroe, are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’ He felt sick with regret and a terrible longing that he thought he’d buried years before. ‘It’s just…it’s pretty mind-blowing, isn’t it?’ That much was at least the truth. ‘I need to get back to this. I’ll see you later.’
Ali watched as Monroe climbed back onto the ride-on mower. Why was he avoiding her eyes?And why had he looked so shattered, so desperate, a moment ago? ‘Don’t forget, I want to see you at the house tomorrow, around about noon,’ she said.
‘Sure.’ He gave her a vague nod as he pulled the bandanna out of his back pocket and tied it round his forehead.
‘And I better warn you, I won’t accept any excuses.’ Her parting words were lost in the roar of the engine. Ali could see the grim concentration on his face as he drove off.
What had happened to him? And what did it have to do with the baby?
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS JESSIE wrote out her third delivery slip of the day, she saw the Cranford Art Gallery’s owner, Mrs Bennett, approach.
‘Well done, my dear,’ she said. ‘I can’t remember the last time we sold three canvases in the space of a couple of hours.’ It was the first time Jessie had seen Mrs Bennett really smile. The gesture made her look younger and even a little carefree.
Jessie found herself smiling back. ‘Thank you, Mrs Bennett.’
‘You know, you’re a natural at this.’
‘I think I’ve been lucky with the sales,’Jessie said, cautiously.
‘I’m not talking about the sales,’ Mrs Bennett said. ‘Although, that is a nice side benefit. No, I mean, you know about art. You’ve got a good eye, my dear.’
Jessie found her chest swelling at the appreciation in her employer’s gaze. She’d been distracted since last night, thinking about Monroe and his artwork. Wondering if she even had the right to ask to see it. Would she really know if it was any good or not? But Mrs Bennett’s praise gave her a newfound confidence. Maybe her idea that she could make a career out of her appreciation of art wasn’t that ridiculous after all. ‘Thank you, that means a lot to me,’ she said.
‘I’m glad.’ Mrs Bennett leant forward. ‘Actually, my coming over to speak to you wasn’t entirely altruistic.’
‘It wasn’t?’
‘Ellen Arthur just rang to say she’s sprained her ankle.’
