but the other was empty except for a studio bed.
“I suppose I should say this unit’s semifurnished,” Della said as Devin examined the second bedroom. “You mentioned you work from home. Is this large enough for what you had in mind?” she asked, peering at him through her new bifocals that she still evidently hadn’t gotten used to.
“It’s fine.” Devin turned from the window. “Is that pool in the lot next door yours?” She’d told him on the phone that she lived one house over. “It’s not exactly the ocean I’m used to in California, but it sure looks inviting.”
Della smiled. “Use of it comes with each rental. I keep the gate locked so no children will wander in, but give all my tenants a key.”
Just what he needed, Devin thought. His job consisted of putting the seat of his pants on the seat of the chair for hour after hour. Without regular exercise, not only would his muscles cramp up, but he’d start getting wide in the beam. “That’s great,” he told Mrs. Bailey.
He’d been staying at a motel since arriving last weekend. Last night, he’d driven around this neighborhood and found it quiet with a minimum of distractions. No basketball hoops or garages or kids playing in the street. There were also several restaurants within a few blocks for nights he didn’t feel like cooking, which were many.
The apartment was only temporary, of course, a year at the most. But for now, it suited his needs perfectly. “I’d like to take the upper.” He took out his wallet and started counting out bills, then handed her a folded sheet of paper. “And here are the references I mentioned.”
In the doorway, Molly felt a frown form. Devin Gray wasn’t someone she’d choose to have live above her. He didn’t look like someone who worked indoors. She’d wager he’d once been a California surfer from his tan and mention of the ocean. Carefree and seductive, she assumed from the looks he’d been throwing her way. Pretty successful at it, too, she imagined from that killer smile. He was too big, too masculine, too self-assured.
If the apartment wasn’t ideally located and priced right, she’d walk away. However, she’d handle it. Mr. Charm would soon learn she wasn’t the least interested. She’d been fending off men like him for over three years. Trisha had once said Molly had turned rejection into an art form. Molly took that as a compliment.
“I’d like to take the lower, Mrs. Bailey,” Molly said, reaching into her canvas bag for her checkbook. “First and last month’s rent all right?”
“That would be fine.” Della strolled to the kitchen, pleased that her vacancies were no more. “Maybe I’ll see more of my daughter with you practically next door, Molly,” she said with a laugh. “She works too hard.”
Molly was aware that, like so many single mothers, Trisha needed every cent she could scrape together to support herself and her eight-year-old son, Danny, even though the two of them lived rent-free in one of Della’s houses several blocks over. The boy’s father sent support checks only when the ponies were running well. Still, Trisha had that great kid, which was more than Molly had wound up with from her disastrous marriage.
But she wasn’t going to dwell on that today. Ripping out the check, she handed it to Mrs. Bailey. “I’ll definitely have Trisha and Danny over as soon as I get settled. I can move some boxes in tonight and the rest tomorrow, if that’s all right.”
Della held out a small ring with two keys on it. “It’s yours, honey.” She turned and took the money from the tall man as well and handed him his keys. “I’ll check out your references and if everything’s okay, I’ll have your lease ready tomorrow. Oh, wait. You said you’d prefer to rent month-to-month, right?”
“Yes. That’s why I’ve paid you for three months in advance, the first two and the last month’s deposit.”
“That’s fine.” They walked out onto the porch overlooking the fenced backyard.
Molly’s gaze took in the grassy area with a clothesline stretched between two poles and a small shed at the back. “I’d like to plant a garden at the far end, if you wouldn’t mind. Maybe some flowers. I’ve lived on the third floor of an apartment building for three years and I’ve really missed having a yard.”
“You’re welcome to garden, if you like,” Della said, heading for the stairs.
“One more thing,” Devin said, aware that his new landlady was anxious to get going. “I forgot to mention that I have a dog, a German shepherd, yard trained. Naturally, I’ll pick up after him, even cut the grass. King’s a good watchdog, as well. Hope that’s okay?”
“I like dogs,” Della said, “as long as they’re well behaved.” She heard a car pull into her driveway next door and her friend’s horn honking. “You two can work things out between you about sharing the yard. Molly, I’ll have your lease ready for you to sign tomorrow. Trash pickup’s Friday and cans are in the back shed. I’ve got to run. See you later.” One hand adjusting her glasses, the other on the railing, Della made her way down the stairs.
Devin turned to Molly Shipman and saw she was frowning. Again. Much as she had been throughout their tour. He wondered what was bothering her.
A dog, Molly thought. A big dog. She liked animals well enough, though she preferred smaller breeds. “German shepherds are large and sort of scary. I have a Brownie troop, eight six-year-old girls. We meet once a week at my home and do projects.” Her sister had talked her into being a leader awhile back and Molly had to admit she enjoyed working with the girls. But she couldn’t afford to be sued by a parent over a dog bite. “I’d hoped to be able to use the yard for some meetings.”
Once a week? Just what he needed, Devin thought. He knew from long experience that kids were noisy, accident prone and could create messes in minutes. There went his nice quiet neighborhood. However the apartment was just right and he was tired of looking. He tried a reassuring tone. “King’s good with kids. He’s friendly, even gentle. But I’ll keep him inside with me on the days you need the yard for your projects.” As for the garden, he didn’t add that King would probably eat the petunias and dig up her vegetables.
What could she say in the face of such a reasonable attitude? Truth be known, it wasn’t the dog that had Molly concerned, but rather his owner. The way those green eyes looked at her, looked into her, as if trying to read her thoughts. She’d just have to avoid him, that’s all. With her work schedule and outside projects, that wouldn’t be so difficult.
“All right, I’ll hold you to that.” Another glance at her watch had her digging out her keys. Hank Thompson, the café’s owner, frowned on his people being late. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around then.” She flashed a brief, distracted smile and skipped down the stairs, heading for her car.
Devin leaned back against the porch railing and watched her. Did he really want to live practically on top of such an attractive woman? Molly Shipman, with that head of shiny blond hair, eyes the blue-green of the sea on a cloudless summer day and a body even her plain white blouse and black slacks couldn’t disguise would be an unwelcome distraction.
He needed the place he lived and worked in to be a quiet haven with no diversions or temptations. Molly wasn’t overtly tempting, but he’d always been drawn more to the subtle than the obvious. Her staid costume and offhand manner had him more interested than if she’d been wearing something skintight and acting flirtatious. Or was his interest centered in the fact that he’d been single-minded about his work for so long, to the detriment of his social life?
Straightening,
