Well. Okay, then. Be sure you put a fresh bandage on your finger.”
He’d told himself he wouldn’t. “I loved it, too,” he admitted. And sliding his hand around her neck, he pulled her to him and pressed his mouth to hers.
He heard her squeak. Felt her gasp. Tasted her shock. Her surprise.
Her hands touched his arms. Rose to his shoulders. Destroyed his intentions. His toolbox hit the ground with a heavy thud.
He slid one arm around her narrow waist. It was like holding a fluttering wild thing against him. Like tasting an exotic, heady spice. He kissed her jaw. The pulse thundering frantically beneath her ear. “Open your mouth,” he muttered.
She inhaled and he felt the thrust of her breasts against him. The heat that had been simmering inside him bubbled. He covered her mouth again, tasting. Going deeper, needing— “Well, this is about what I expected of you.”
The intrusive voice barely penetrated Garrett’s brain. But Darby sprang back from him as if she’d been shot.
He shifted, shielding her behind him, and stared at the one man he could truly say he hated.
Caldwell Carson.
“I’ve never much been interested in what you expect,” Garrett said evenly.
“Carrying on in plain sight of my grandchildren with one of your—”
“Don’t say it,” Garrett warned. “And they’re my nieces and nephews. In case you’ve forgotten.”
“I’ve forgotten nothing,” Caldwell snapped. “Particularly the fact that Elise never had anything to do with you. This story you’ve managed to concoct may have convinced a few people for now, but it won’t last.”
Darby slid past Garrett’s restraining arm, dismay darkening her bright eyes. “Mayor Carson, I know your loss has been terrible. But Elise did say—”
“Who are you?”
Garrett silenced her with a look. “Take the kids inside,” he ordered flatly. “And keep them there until he’s gone.”
She bit her lip, clearly reluctant. But finally she went, leaving Garrett alone with his father. “What are you doing here, Caldwell? Slumming?”
“I came to see my grandchildren. That secretary of yours has put me off long enough. You wouldn’t take my calls, so here I am. I want to see them.”
“Not today, Gramps.”
“You can’t keep them from me.”
“I can as long as I’m their guardian.”
“That’ll end on Wednesday.”
“So you keep threatening. Frankly, I’m pretty bored with it all.”
“Do you have no respect for your sister at all?”
Cold anger settled inside him. “Have you? You slapped a For Sale sign on her house before anyone could blink. You were huddling with your lawyers before my sister was even buried.” His lips twisted. “You never did have any respect for the dead.”
“Your mother would be ashamed of you.”
Garrett’s hand curled. It took everything he possessed not to raise it. “The only shame in my mother’s life was her involvement with you.”
“I loved Bonnie.”
“I’m sure your wife found that as comforting as the rest of us. You loved women,” Garrett corrected flatly. “My mother was just one more to you.” He stared at Caldwell, seeing the physical resemblance between himself and the older man and hating it. “No comment?”
“You can’t keep those children from me,” Caldwell finally said. His voice was harsh. “For God’s sake, son. They’re all I have left.”
Garrett knew that. How well he knew that, and how well he knew just how much like this cold old man he really was. “Don’t call me son.”
Then he picked up his tool chest and walked away.
He stopped short at the sight of Darby standing inside the fence. The children were nowhere in sight.
“Garrett, I—” she hesitated “—are you all right?”
His jaw tightened until it ached. He wanted, needed, her on his side to win his case against Caldwell. But right now, the soft look in her eyes was more than he could take.
“I told you to go inside,” he said flatly. But instead of having the desired effect, the look in her eyes softened even more before she turned and headed into the house.
Leaving him. Alone.
Chapter Seven
Thunder crashed overhead, sounding as if mountains were caving in on the house. Darby pressed her hands to her ears, wishing she could blot out the violent sounds of the electrical storm raging outside.
Another rumble. Starting far off in the distance, rolling closer and closer, building strength, plowing over Garrett’s two-story rented house. Windows rattled. Glasses inside the cupboard rattled. The entire house seemed to rattle.
Darby shuddered and decided that sitting in the kitchen wasn’t the place to be, after all.
She gathered up the newspapers that had been piling up on the counter and carried them, along with her iced tea, into the living room. It was odd, she thought, listening to the storm brewing while it was swelteringly hot outside. There just seemed to be something wrong with that picture.
Georgie had told her about the storms that seemed to shake the world with fury. All noise and no show, she’d said.
Frankly, Darby figured the noise was bad enough to give the unwary a heart attack.
She set the newspapers on the couch, peered into the playpen where Keely and Bridget were sleeping, sound as could be. She didn’t know how it was possible to sleep while thunder shook the house, but she wasn’t going to argue with it. Tad was gnawing halfheartedly on his frozen teething ring. Hopefully, he’d fall asleep, too.
Regan and Reid weren’t seemingly bothered by the racket, either. The two blond heads barely looked up from the video they were watching over the coloring books Georgie had given them.
She sat down on the couch and flipped through the newspapers, hoping that she wouldn’t see another article about Phil Candela’s connection to Rutherford Transportation. So far, the newspaper had run several little blurbs about the man, including details of his funeral in Kentucky. Darby had sent flowers, but she’d been too cowardly to sign her name to them.
She bypassed articles about the increase of housing starts in Fisher Falls and the appointment of a new police chief, skimmed one about an upcoming carnival and lingered over a half-page advertisement of G&G Construction and Development, which was currently hiring in the area.
She
