no good option. Send him off to find other accommodations, and she risked the two of them becoming a source of gossip in town. Let him stay...same thing, but more manageable since no one had to know he was here. If not for the pregnant Frost sisters, she could at least try to persuade Gabe to bunk with the McCaffreys or his brother. She was backed into a corner. She had said she’d owed him three years ago, and Olivia and Jess needed rest.
“Inside,” she said. “Before the mosquitoes start gnawing on us both.”
“Ah, yes. Good to be back in Knights Bridge.”
Felicity switched on the lights in her living room, but it didn’t change anything. Gabe had followed her inside and stood by the glass doors that opened onto the deck above the river. The man was as sexy and maddening as ever.
Sexier, maybe.
This wasn’t a welcome thought as he turned from the view and set his duffel bag on the floor by her IKEA couch. It probably had cost her less than his pants. Less than his shoes. Maybe even less than his haircut.
She stopped herself. She didn’t care if he had money. She never had.
He glanced around the living room. It had a woodstove and glass doors that opened onto the main deck. Felicity hadn’t left too much party-planning paraphernalia laying about, but she did have printouts of various badgers spread out on the coffee table. Gabe looked at them without comment.
“Different from the world of financial spreadsheets and such,” she said.
“At least these woodchucks don’t bite.”
“They’re badgers.”
He raised his eyes to her and smiled. “I know. It was a joke.”
“Ah. Right. You’re still a New England country boy at heart. You know your badgers from your woodchucks. You just don’t run into them often in your line of work.”
“One hopes you don’t run into them in your work, either. Badgers and woodchucks don’t mix with parties.”
“Morwenna Mills’s badgers do. Have you met her yet? Her real name is Kylie Shaw.”
“I haven’t met her, no. I met her husband last night. He and Dylan flew from California together.”
“Russ and I have discussed security for Saturday’s boot camp,” Felicity said, hating her awkwardness. “I’ll go over the details of your party with him.”
“It’s not really my party.” Gabe stifled a yawn and shuddered. “I’m still readjusting to East Coast time. I was in California for two months. Doesn’t seem to matter it’s three hours earlier there.”
“Feel free to crash, but you don’t need to sleep on the couch. I have a guest room. It’s not fully set up for company yet, but it’s got a bed.”
“Thanks.” His gaze settled on her, his eyes half closed. “It’s good to see you, Felicity.”
“You, too.” She waved a hand vaguely. “I’ll see to the guest room.”
She was aware of Gabe watching her as she went down the hall to the linen closet. She dug out a stack of twin-size sheets and took them into the guest room, more or less where Gabe’s grandfather would pitch his tent before the house was built. The windows looked out on the side yard, with a glimpse of the river down through the woods.
Gabe stood in the doorway. “I stayed here once while the house was being built and a few times after Mark moved in. He’s good at what he does.”
Felicity set the linens on the floor by the bed. “I didn’t know until tonight you’d gone in together on this place. Maggie and Olivia knew, but they would—I’ve hardly seen Mark in the past few years, never mind you. I didn’t buy the house because of the past.”
“Mark and I were helping my grandfather.”
“That was a decent thing to do.” She lifted a box of party supplies off the bed and set it on the floor. “I weighed the pros and cons before I made an offer.”
“Was I a pro or a con?”
She glanced back at him, slouched against the doorjamb. “Maybe I didn’t consider you at all,” she said lightly. “It’s a little stuffy in here. Feel free to open the windows.”
He stood straight. “I can make up the bed.”
“I don’t mind. You’re my first company. It’ll be good practice.”
She didn’t need to tell him that the guest room shared a bathroom with the house’s third bedroom, which she used as her office—when she wasn’t working in the living room, out on the deck or in the town library. The master bedroom had its own bathroom. Mercifully, Felicity thought.
He stepped into the room and peered out a window. “The trees are bigger now. Mark and I planted the apple tree out front when we were in high school. We promised each other we’d be out of here before it was big enough to climb.”
“And now it is,” Felicity said.
“The apples will be ripe soon. My mother talked about making pie with apples from that tree, once it was big enough. She didn’t get that chance, but she liked coming out here when she was sick.”
“I remember.” Felicity could see it wasn’t a subject he wanted to pursue. She pointed at the single blanket on her stack of linens. “There are more blankets in the closet. I’ve never lived anywhere but New England. I have lots of blankets.”
“It’s the humidity that gets to me compared to Southern California.” He drew away from the window. “I’ll take a walk. Don’t let me keep you from anything.”
“No problem.”
“And, really, leave the bed to me—I still know how to make up a bed.”
But he didn’t, she realized. He had household help. She didn’t. Every chore at her house had her name on it. “Enjoy your walk.”
“I will, thanks.”
He headed back down the hall. Felicity heard the front door open and shut. She made up the bed, fluffed the pillows and checked the towels and basic supplies in the bathroom. All set for a guest, if not for one accustomed to five-star accommodations. But he’d known what to expect. He’d been here before. He’d been a part owner of the place.
She went into the kitchen and pulled open her baking cupboard. She scanned the shelves and saw she had the ingredients for brownies. She could have taken some of Maggie’s brownies home with her, but she’d been thinking of her waistline, not Gabe showing up in her driveway. She grabbed the ingredients she needed—flour, sugar, baking chocolate, vanilla—and set them on the counter, then collected eggs and butter from the refrigerator. She got out a bowl, measuring spoons and cups, turned on the oven to preheat and went to work.
She hadn’t really made brownies that February morning. She didn’t
