did,” she admitted quietly. “But he’s dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It happened a while ago.” Two very long, very painful years ago. “Anyway, I apologize for staring.” Alexa turned away quickly and began to study the nearest shelves, hating the feeling of desolation that gripped her insides. Oh, Cole.
“Excuse me,” the man said.
Alexa couldn’t help looking at him one more time as he edged past Benjy, who was mopping the floor. His gaze wandered over the shelves as he apparently looked for something. He carried a plastic store basket in which a few items had been placed: toothpaste, oranges, a couple of bags of blue-corn tortilla chips. In a moment, he plucked a bottle of mild taco sauce from a shelf, and then continued down the aisle. She must have been mistaken about his gait. Not that it appeared unconfident, but it was slower, more deliberate—different from Cole’s world-challenging one. And Cole would have considered anyone using mild sauce on Mexican food wimpy.
The stranger turned back to her once more. “See you,” he said with a wave.
In your dreams, Alexa thought. She sighed. She didn’t dare let the man think she was coming on to him.
She didn’t even want to consider the consequences, if Vane thought she was flirting. She had other, more risky reasons to tempt his ire.
She forced herself to pull her list from her pocket and study it. She still needed milk and feta cheese. That was all she should be thinking about. She concentrated once more on her shopping.
A few minutes later, though, the man was at the checkout beside hers. She looked around. The lines at the other open ones were longer. In fact, there were a lot of people around, mostly strangers, though she often knew the patrons in the Juarez Gourmet Grocery. The new Skytop Lake Village shop had been open only a few months, but was already wildly successful with locals.
Alexa didn’t want to move to another line, but she felt embarrassed around this man. And upset. She had tried so hard to put Cole out of her mind….
Stay cool, she commanded herself, ignoring the way her breath caught in her throat. Abruptly, she drew her gaze away.
In the next line over, ready to check out, was Marian Shelton, one of her neighbors. “Hi, Alexa,” Marian said. “How’s the B&B business?” Fiftyish, Marian wore her black, curly hair in a frizzled mop about her head.
“Not bad,” Alexa lied.
“You own a bed-and-breakfast?” It was the stranger talking. She recognized that rumbling deep voice from moments ago.
She turned slowly, sucking in her breath for fortitude. She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Yes,” she said.
“The Hideaway By The Lake,” Marian said. “It’s the most charming inn around, with the absolute best lake view. And it’s all the better because of Alexa’s restaurant. She serves gourmet food there, you know.”
A few months ago, if a friend had talked up her establishment and her cooking, Alexa would have been thrilled. But now…things were different.
“That sounds great,” the man said. He held out his hand. “My name is John O’Rourke. I’m here on a vacation, and to scout out a possible place for a new store. I’m in home improvements—sales, mainly.”
“How do you do, Mr. O’Rourke,” Alexa said formally. “I’m Alexa Kenner.” She didn’t want to be rude so she took his hand. It was warm, and his grip was firm. Reassuring, somehow.
But his look was anything but reassuring. There was a blatant sensuality in the way his eyes captivated hers, almost familiarly.
She pulled her hand, and her gaze, away quickly. “I’m happy to say my inn is pretty full right now.” She didn’t want him to ask about a room. She wouldn’t want to have to tell him no—not in front of Marian, who knew she still had vacancies. Marian, two doors down on the same side of the street, was the kind of neighbor who counted cars in the driveway. She would believe there was room for several more—and therefore several more guests.
But Marian didn’t know what was happening at the inn. No one knew, except for Vane.
Alexa couldn’t rent a room to anyone. It wasn’t just because of the way this man had started, by his very presence, to unnerve her.
“Oh.” O’Rourke’s tone was noncommittal. Maybe he hadn’t been about to ask for a room. She felt relieved…didn’t she?
Marian finished making her purchases and left, thank heaven, before she could try harder to promote her neighbor. Picking up a magazine from beside the checkout, Alexa pretended to study it.
Soon, it was her turn. When she had paid for all her groceries, she wheeled her cart toward the automatic glass door.
“Wait!”
Moving out of the way of someone entering the store, Alexa turned at the voice, which was now becoming familiar. Too familiar. “Yes, Mr. O’Rourke?”
He took two strides before he stood beside her. He gripped a white plastic grocery bag in one large hand. He was tall, as tall as Cole had been.
“I’m John,” he corrected, startling her.
Of course he couldn’t read her mind. He was just being friendly, asking her to call him by his first name.
“Alexa, rent me a room. Please. I’ll need it for a week or two.”
“But—”
“I don’t want to beg, but I will. I came to Skytop Lake for the lake. I told the travel agent that before I left L.A., but she stuck me in a perfectly awful place in the woods that’s a mile away from the water.”
Alexa tried again. “The thing is, John—”
“Plus,” he interrupted with a devilish grin that somehow reminded her she was a living, breathing woman, “I’m scouting for an inn where a professional organization of salesmen I belong to can hold a meeting in a few months. If I like your place, and I’m sure I will, I can bring you some more business.”
Darn it all! Marian was standing outside the door as it opened and closed, chatting with another woman but keeping an eye on John and her. Could she hear them? Alexa could hardly say to this handsome, disconcerting man, right in front of her neighbor, that she didn’t want any more business.
And she did want more business. Much different business from the guests she had.
There were a couple of rooms that remained empty. Over the past miserable months, she had insisted on renting a room, now and then, to someone from outside if she had a good reason: a former guest, a friend of a former guest, a neighbor’s relative. That allowed the pretense, at least, that everything was normal.
Normal? For her, turmoil had become normal.
She glanced outside as the door opened again. No one stood out there to stop her.
Still…her nerves tensed. Half unconsciously, she reached for the ostentatious diamond on her left hand—the
