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So the Haven Point rumor mill said about him, anyway. “I guess you do,” she said. “I found your keys and information about the apartment. If you would like, I can show you around upstairs.”
“Lead on.”
He offered a friendly smile, and she told herself that shiver rippling down her spine was only because the entryway was cooler than her rooms.
“This is a lovely house,” he said as he followed her up the staircase. “Have you lived here long?”
“Thirty-two years in February. All my life, in other words.”
Except the first few days, anyway, when she had still been in the Oregon hospital where her parents adopted her, and the three years she had spent at Boise State.
“It’s always been in my family,” she continued. “My father was born here and his father before him.”
She was a Winston only by adoption but claimed her parents’ family trees as her own and respected and admired their ancestors and the elegant home they had built here.
At the second floor landing, she unlocked the apartment that had been hers until she moved down to take care of her mother after Mariah’s first stroke, two years ago. A few years after taking the job at the Haven Point library, she had redecorated the upstairs floor of the house. It had been her way of carving out her own space.
Yes, she was an adult living with her parents. Even as she might have longed for some degree of independence, she couldn’t justify moving out when her mother so desperately needed her help with Julia’s ailing father.
Anyway, she had always figured it wasn’t the same as most young adults who lived in their parents’ apartments. She had an entire self-contained floor to herself. If she wished, she could shop on her own, cook on her own, entertain her friends, all without bothering her parents.
Really, it had been the best of all situations—close enough to help, yet removed enough to live her own life. Then her father died and her mother became frail herself, and Julia had felt obligated to move downstairs to be closer, in case her mother needed her.
Now, as she looked at her once-cherished apartment, she tried to imagine how Jamie Caine would see these rooms, with the graceful reproduction furniture and the pastel wall colors and the soft carpet and curtains.
Oddly, the feminine decorations only served to emphasize how very male Jamie Caine was, in contrast.
She did her best to ignore that unwanted observation.
“This is basically the same floor plan as my rooms below, with three bedrooms, as well as the living room and kitchen,” she explained. “You’ve got an en suite bathroom off the largest bedroom and another one for the other two bedrooms.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of room for one guy.”
“It’s a big house,” she said with a shrug. She had even more room downstairs, factoring in the extra bedroom in one addition and the large south-facing sunroom.
Winston House was entirely too rambling for one single woman and three bad-tempered cats. It had been too big for an older couple and their adopted daughter. It had been too large when it was just her and her mother, after her father died.
The place had basically echoed with emptiness for the better part of a year after her mother’s deteriorating condition had necessitated her move to the nursing home in Shelter Springs. Her mother had hoped to return to the house she had loved, but that never happened, and Mariah Winston died four months ago.
Julia missed her every single day.
“Do you think it will work for you?” she asked.
“It’s more than I need, but should be fine. Eliza told you this is only temporary, right?”
Julia nodded. She was counting on it. Then she could find a nice, quiet, older lady to rent who wouldn’t leave her so nervous.
“She said your apartment lease ran out before your new condo was finished.”
“Yes. The development was supposed to be done two months ago, but the builder has suffered delay after delay. I’ve already extended my lease twice. I didn’t want to push my luck with my previous landlady by asking for a third extension.”
All Jamie had to do was smile at the woman and she likely would have extended his lease again without quibbling. And probably would have given him anything else he wanted, too.
Julia didn’t ask why he chose not to move in to Snow Angel Cove with his brother Aidan and Aidan’s wife, Eliza, and their children. It was none of her business, anyway. The only thing she cared about was the healthy amount he was paying her in rent, which would just about cover the new furnace she had installed a month earlier.
“It was a lucky break for me when Eliza told me you were considering taking on a renter for your upstairs space.”
He aimed that killer smile at her again, and her core muscles trembled from more than just her workout that morning.
If she wasn’t very, very careful, she would end up making a fool of herself over the man.
It took effort, but she fought the urge to return his smile. This was business, she told herself. That’s all. She had something he needed, a place to stay, and he was willing to pay for it. She, in turn, needed funds if she wanted to maintain this house that had been in her family for generations.
“It works out for both of us. You’ve already signed the rental agreement outlining the terms of your tenancy and the rules.”
She held out the information packet. “Here you’ll find all the information you might need, information like internet access, how to work the electronics and the satellite television channels, garbage pickup day and mail delivery. Do you have any other questions?”
Business, she reminded herself, making her voice as no-nonsense and brisk as possible.
“I can’t think of any now, but I’m sure something will come up.”
He smiled again, but she thought perhaps this time his expression was a little more reserved. Maybe he could sense she was uncharmable.
Or so she wanted to tell herself, anyway.
“I would ask that you please wipe your feet when you carry your things in and out, given the snow out there. The stairs are original wood, more than a hundred years old.”
Cripes. She sounded like a prissy spinster librarian.
“I will do that, but I don’t have much to carry in. Since El told me the place is furnished, I put almost everything in storage.” He gestured to the duffel and laptop bag, which he had set inside the doorway. “Besides this, I’ve only got a few more boxes in the car.”
“In that case, here are your keys. The large one goes to the outside door. The smaller one is for your apartment. I keep the outside door locked at all times. You can’t be too careful.”
“True enough.”
She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid I’ve already gone twenty minutes past my lunch hour and must return to the library. My cell number is written on the front of the packet, in case of emergency.”
“Looks like you’ve covered everything.”
“I think so.” Yes, she was a bit obsessively organized, and she didn’t like surprises. Was anything wrong with that?
“I hope you will be comfortable here,” she said, then tried to soften her stiff tone with a smile that felt every bit as awkward. “Good afternoon.”
“Uh, same to you.”
Her heart was still pounding as she nodded to him and hurried for the stairs, desperate for escape from all that...masculinity.
She rushed back downstairs and into her apartment for her purse, wishing she had time to splash cold water on her face.
However would she get through the next six weeks with him in her house?
* * *
HE WAS NOT looking forward to the next six weeks.
Jamie stood in the corner of the main living space to the apartment he had agreed to rent, sight unseen.
Big mistake.
It was roomy and filled with light, that much was true. But the decor was too...fussy...for a man like him, all carved wood and tufted upholstery and pastel wall colorings.
It wasn’t exactly his scene, more like the kind of place a repressed, uppity librarian might live.
As soon as he thought the words, Jamie frowned at himself. That wasn’t fair. She might not have been overflowing with warmth and welcome, but Julia Winston had been very polite to him—especially since he knew she hadn’t necessarily wanted to rent to him.
This was what happened when he gave his sister-in-law free rein to find him an apartment in the tight local rental market. She had been helping him out since he had been crazy busy the last few weeks flying Caine Tech execs from coast to coast—and all places in between—as they worked on a couple of big mergers.
Eliza had wanted him to stay at her and Aidan’s rambling house by the lake. The place was huge, and they had plenty of room, but while he loved his older brother Aidan and his wife and kids, Jamie preferred his own space. He didn’t much care what that space looked like, especially when it was temporary.
With time running out on his lease extension, he had been relieved when Eliza called him via Skype the week before to tell him she had found him something more than suitable, for a decent rent.
“You’ll love it!” Eliza had beamed. “It’s the entire second floor of a gorgeous old Victorian in that great neighborhood on Snow Blossom Lane, with a simply stunning view of the lake.”
“Sounds good,” he had answered.
“You’ll be upstairs from my friend Julia Winston, and, believe me, you couldn’t ask for a better landlady. She’s sweet and kind and perfectly wonderful. You know Julia, right?”
When he had looked blankly at her and didn’t immediately respond, his niece Maddie had popped her face on to the screen from where she had been apparently listening in off-camera. “You know! She’s the library lady. She tells all the stories!”
“Ah. That Julia,” he said, not bothering to mention to his seven-year-old niece that in more than a year of living in town, he had somehow missed out on story time at the Haven Point library.
He also didn’t mention to Maddie’s mother that he only vaguely remembered Julia Winston. Now that he had seen her again, he understood why. She was the kind of woman who tended to slip into the background—and he had the odd impression that wasn’t accidental.
She wore her brown hair past her shoulders, without much curl or style to it and held back with a simple black band, and she appeared to use little makeup to play up her rather average features.
She did have lovely eyes, he had to admit. Extraordinary, even. They were a stunning blue, almost violet, fringed by naturally long eyelashes.
Her looks didn’t matter, nor did the decor of her house. He would only be here a few weeks, then he would be moving in to his new condo.
She clearly didn’t like him. He frowned, wondering how he might have offended Julia Winston. He barely remembered even meeting the woman, but he must have done something for her to be so cool to him.
A few times during that odd interaction, she had alternated between seeming nervous to be in the same room with him to looking at him with her mouth pursed tightly, as if she had just caught him spreading peanut butter across the pages of War and Peace.
She was entitled to her opinion. Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t need everyone to like him.
His brothers would probably say it was good for him to live upstairs from a woman so clearly immune to his charm.
One thing was clear: he now had one more reason to be eager for his condo to be finished.
CHAPTER TWO (#u87ed92cc-3926-5cf6-af7f-a8b2ba8b44a8)
“SERIOUSLY? WE HAVE Book Club in less than four hours, and you’re only now checking out the book we’re supposed to be discussing?”
Samantha Fremont shrugged and swiped at a lock of auburn hair that always seemed to be falling into her eyes.
“I’m sorry, but I was in the middle of a Coco Chanel biography and I couldn’t put it down. Fascinating stuff, that. Anyway, I just need a copy to skim through on my lunch hour. You can tell me what happens, can’t you?”
Julia sighed and handed over a copy of Filling Your Well, the feel-good self-help memoir that had been chosen by this week’s discussion leader, Roxy Nash.
“It’s all about designing your life the way you want it, about taking chances and pursuing your goals,” she said,
“Oh. One of those books.” Sam made a face. “I should have known. Maybe I’ll stay home and watch reruns of Project Runway.”
“You have to come. We had a last-minute venue change, and it’s at my house.”
“Ooh. In that case, I’ll definitely be there. I understand Jamie Caine is living upstairs from you in all his glorious gorgeousness. How is it? Tell me everything!”
Julia rolled her eyes. “He’s lived upstairs from me for all of three hours now, and I’ve been working that entire time. It’s a little premature for me to offer an opinion.”
Samantha was a flirt of the highest order. In that, at least, she and Jamie were perfect for each other, though he was about a decade older.
“If Jamie lived under the same roof with me, I would never want to leave my house.”
Funny. Julia had the opposite reaction. She was wondering if she could bring a few blankets and pillows and camp out on the sofa in her office.
“I mean, think about it,” Sam went on. “He’s going to be showering up there. And sleeping, too, all warm and tousled and cuddly. I wonder if he wears pajamas.”
Julia’s imagination began to drift into dangerous waters, until she yanked it back safely to the shores of reality.
She cleared her throat. “Do you want to check out any other books to go with this one?” she asked, holding out Filling Your Well.
Sam gave a dreamy sigh. “No. This will do. Unless you know any hot romance novels featuring tall, gorgeous pilots.”
Julia could name several off the top of her head, but she had a feeling Samantha was only joking.
“I’ll make you a list and give it to you tonight. Maybe you can pick one for the next time you lead the book group,” she said, knowing perfectly well Sam’s tastes usually ran to celebrity memoirs and the occasional meaty historical drama.
“Perfect. So you said Jamie’s been there three hours. Has he brought any women home yet? Are they gorgeous?”
Oh, cripes. She hadn’t even thought about that.
“Again. I’ve been working here the entire time. I don’t expect I’ll have much reason to talk to the man at all.”
Sam looked disappointed that she didn’t have more dirt to dish up about her new tenant. “I might have to find some kind of excuse tonight to borrow a cup of sugar from your upstairs neighbor.”
“You would probably be disappointed. I’m not sure how many groceries he’ll have on hand. He seemed to be traveling light, just a duffel and a couple of boxes. One of them might have sugar, but I have a feeling baking cookies isn’t his primary goal in life.”
Sam snickered. “From what I hear, that’s an understatement.”
