Animal Prints: Sweet Small Town Contemporary Romance (Michigan Moonlight Book 1) (10 page)

He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother. Tom answered on the second ring, sounding breathless.

“Hey, what are you doing? Running a marathon?”
 

“Wrestling the kids into bed. I have to be a WWE champion this week and body-slam Nick into bed. Last week, I had to sack him. When we move onto hockey, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Try not to get accused of child abuse,” Ian said in a droll tone, but he could hear the laughter of his seven-year-old nephew in the background. In spite of it all, he smiled. “You’re a good father, Tom.”

“I’m trying.” A door closed in Tom’s house and Ian heard him juggle the phone. “We didn’t have much of an example. How’s your situation?”

“Shit.” Ian had called his brother on the drive from Grand Island to Boyne a few days ago to fill him in on his meeting with Colette.

“That good, huh? Have you seen her again?”

“We just had dinner.”
 

“Ah. You told her the truth?”

“I couldn’t.” If it’d only been a friendly meal, he’d be okay. But when he replayed their kisses and the way her hands on him made his skin hot and his blood boil, everything changed.

“I said I would, but as soon as I saw her—No way.” He didn’t want to play with Colette like this. He sure as hell didn’t want to wait for the moment when she realized who he was and what he was up to. He had to tell her their meeting wasn’t a coincidence. Spending the night at her cottage was an accident. A damn nice accident. Colette might even call it fate right up until he told her
why
he met her.

“It’s only going to get worse if you put it off.” Tom repeated what he’d said the other day and Ian’s own thoughts. “Tell her the truth now. She’ll probably be pissed, but she won’t feel used. You let this go any farther and you’re in deep shit. Did you tell her about your book?”

“Yeah.”

“What was her reaction? Did she like the idea?”

“She was definitely sympathetic. Her father’s a Nam vet.”

“Good. If you explain that you made this deal with Dad so you could get the book published and establish a relationship with your father, she’s bound to be understanding.”

Ian thought about that for a few seconds. His brother was right, but the situation was complicated. He punched the accelerator, swerving around a slow moving car. His feelings for Colette were only part of the mess. He needed to talk about his other concerns regarding the deal with his dad, and Tom was the only one who could understand. “What do you suppose Dad’s game is? You’re an overpaid attorney used to analysis. Help me out here.”
 

“I’ve been wondering about that too,” Tom said.
 

“Here’s my number one question at the moment. Why’d Dad approach me about this job?”

“I’ve been thinking about that since the weekend, too. Your thoughts?” Tom asked

“I’ve got three possible answers.” Ian ticked them off. “One, he’s softened in his old age and wants to play nice.”

“Great sentiment, but you know it’s bullshit.” It was the answer they’d both like to believe, especially since their mother’s death, and the promise they’d made to her to attempt a reconciliation with their father.

“Two, he saw that I needed the commission to join the civilian world and finish the book.”

“Again, a heartwarming thought,” Tom commented. “But you’re not thinking like the old man yet.”

“I’m getting there. Three, he’s using me for a reason, but what?”

“You think Dad didn’t know you’d be dealing with a beautiful, single female? Come on. He had you target her first, not the brother and sister. Since you’re my identical twin, I’m happy to say you’re a good-looking guy. Dad’s trying to use the fact that Colette might be attracted to you.”

“Damn him,” Ian muttered.
 

“Yep. My other question is, why does he want this particular piece of property? How much is he willing to pay for it?”

“He authorized me to go to ten million.” His brother snorted in disbelief on the other end. “I did some research. The property’s valuable, but closer to the two or three million dollar range for development reasons.”

“Have you seen it?” Tom asked.

“No, I’m going on Saturday to take pictures of the farm. I told Colette I’d make a webpage for her.” Ian turned down the lane to his villa at Boyne. “You don’t have to say it. I know it’s a lame way to see the land and Colette again.” Being twins gave them the uncanny ability to think alike, which sometimes pissed him off and sometimes made everything easier.

“Which is more important?”
 

Ian hesitated. He was telling himself he didn’t know the answer to his brother’s question, but in his gut, he did. “Would you believe I’m not sure?”
 

“No.” His brother would already understand that Ian’s desire to acquire the property and commission along with it was seriously undermined by his attraction to Colette. “Maybe I can see what’s so special about the Peterson property,” Ian suggested. “What if I can tempt Dad with similar land? You know he’s only going to build some fancy-ass gated community anyway. Cherry Ridge can’t be the only location in the Petoskey region to sell overpriced homes and condos to the well-to-do with the assurance that the rabble of the world can’t get in.”

“I’ll guess you’ll find out. What about the siblings?”

“Haven’t met them yet. The sister owns a café in Petoskey. Thought I might stop in there this week. Somehow I don’t think it’ll make any difference.”
 

“Older or younger sister?”

“Older, I think.” Friday morning, he’d drive into Petoskey to eat at Hemingway’s Haunt for a late breakfast. The sister clearly had some influence on Colette or the bum conversation wouldn’t have come up.
 

“Can you believe she asked if I was a bum?”

“You are a bum,” Tom answered quickly. “You’ve got a one bedroom apartment four states away from where you’re at. Of course, you’re a bum.”

“Screw you,” Ian muttered. His brother wasn’t serious, but he made a point. He didn’t have a place to call home. And that mattered to Colette. Family mattered to Colette. Maybe it could work to his advantage to be acquainted with the sister…the thought of family brought him back to his own father, though.
“Damn it, Tom, what made me think I could trust the old man?”

“I don’t know. Wishful thinking, being a dumbass, expecting him to act like a father?” Tom suggested. “Turn it around on him. Explain your situation to Colette. Maybe she’ll be compassionate. Doesn’t seem like she’ll sell, but you might come out the winner in other ways. Take it from a married man: trust is necessary in relationships.”

“And from a lawyer?”

“Definitely from a lawyer. I don’t work with anyone I can’t trust. Would you?”
 

Chapter Six

Ian drove five miles west of Petoskey on State Rt. 31 toward Charlevoix before seeing the turnoff to Big Rock Rd. When Colette called with directions the night before, he had to pretend he didn’t know exactly where her farm was, like he hadn’t seen it on a Google map or on a poster size image in his father’s office.
 

Knowing the GPS coordinates didn’t prepare him for the farm’s splendor. The sprawling white farmhouse stood on a ridge with three deep-green barns behind it. Beyond the barns, a large pasture sloped down into a forest of pines and birch which continued until the edge of Lake Michigan. Cherry and peach trees laden with fruit spread from the house in the opposite direction.
 

Romeo greeted him when he stepped from his car. Without hesitating, Ian reached to stroke the dog’s ears while he looked around. In between the greyhound’s legs, a Scottish terrier pranced around, waiting for his turn to be petted. Ian squatted to let the terrier sniff his hand. The smaller dog accepted him with a quick lick and yap before running off with Romeo.
 

Standing again, he continued his visual survey of the property. Nearer the water at the bottom of the slope, the roofline and chimney of another house was just visible. Ian was so busy studying the view he didn’t even reach for the camera sitting on the passenger seat of his car. Out of habit, he held up his hands to frame several shots between his fingers, beginning with the old tractor parked under a cherry tree, sweeping to the left to capture where the trees disappeared into the lake, and ending with the wraparound porch on the old wooden house.
 

Wicker chairs and a swing graced the porch over worn gray floor boards. A large oak tree shaded the front of the house from the afternoon sun. To the left of the house, a stand of birch trees shone brilliantly with their white trunks. A stained glass transom window framed the front door. Lace curtains hung at the windows, filtering the light. Brick paths wound away from the house toward the barns. The building closest to the house was smaller than the others, but with large modern windows to collect the light. The place was damn near perfect.

The old man was right. Colette’s property was worth every dime of the ten million, but his decision was easy; no way was he going to pursue the purchase of this tract of land. His father was going to have to accept that. He’d look for an alternative property if his father still wanted to invest in this area. But Ian would make a deal with the devil himself to keep this place exactly how it was. The whinny of a horse from the far barn ended his observations. He reached for his camera and headed for the sound.
 

Colette’s soft laughter reached him before the sound of conversation. She wasn’t alone, he realized, with a shocking amount of disappointment. Ian stepped into the barn and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim, while Colette’s voice mixed with the deeper timber of a man’s from the far stall. Disappointment shifted to an irrational jealousy.

“I don’t know, Collie. He’s still pretty weak to go out into the pasture.”

“Sunshine will do him good. Even if he lies down for a few minutes in the sun, he’ll remember what it’s like to be an animal.”

“All right, put the lead on him,” the man announced before the door to the stall swung open, and Ian faced a thick-chested man in his early sixties with closely-cropped gray hair and bright blue eyes. He was dressed in high Wellington boots, jeans, and a polo shirt with
Petoskey Animal Clinic
embroidered on the breast. When Ian didn’t speak, the man eyed him suspiciously. “Collie, you expecting someone?”

Colette’s head popped up over the walls of the stall, smiling brightly. “Ian, you’re early.”

“Sorry,” Ian answered Colette, but focused on the man, eying him back. “It didn’t take me as long to get here as I thought.”

“It’s okay. Ian, this is my dad, Jack Peterson. Dad, this is the photographer I met up on Grand Island that I was telling you about, Ian Kroft.”

Automatically, Ian stuck out his hand, but the older man made no move to accept it, scrutinizing him with eyes that matched Colette’s in color. For a moment, Ian wondered if the man had seen right through him, his look was so cold. Did he recognize the name as being connected to the development company?

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Peterson.” Ian’s hand still hung suspended in the air while he waited.

“Yeah, same to you.” Jack nodded at Ian’s hand. “If you knew where my hand just was, you wouldn’t be holding yours out. We’ll shake later.”

“Ian, Orsino here is pretty jumpy. Don’t move and don’t snap any pictures until we get him outside,” Colette said from the doorway of the stall. She held the lead rope for a tiny horse. His head when raised barely reached Colette’s thigh. His shaggy coat was stretched thin over his rib cage. Open sores on his back looked raw and a wild, frightened expression gleamed in his eyes. “Come on, Orsino. It’s just a little way to the pasture.” Colette coaxed the miniature horse out the back of the barn.

Jack kept a safe distance from the pair. Circling wide around them, he reached the barn door which he swung open slowly. Orsino flinched at the light coming through and turned his head into Colette’s leg as he sidestepped into her.
 

Yet, Colette stopped to stroke his head and run a reassuring hand down his side. The horse took a few more steps toward the door then stopped again. As Ian watched, Colette repeated the process until they reached the door. There, Orsino gave a little jump reminiscent of lambs bounding across fields in spring.

“That’s it. I knew you’d like it once you smelled the outside air,” Colette said to the horse when his head came up to scent the breeze. “Two more steps and you can move freely.”