Luck of the Draw (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 1) (9 page)

“Grace, enough already,” Ruth chided from the other side of the island. “You’re the only one crying, for heaven’s sake.”

“It’s so tragic!”

“I’m really okay,” Kate insisted, finding it somewhat surreal that she felt the need to comfort Grace.

“I’m sorry,” Grace mumbled as she swiped at her nose. “Oh, God, I need a tissue.” With that she pushed through the door into the next room.

Kate looked at Ruth.

“Before you ask, yes, she’s always like that. A bull in an emotional china shop. You get used to it. Oh, where is that infernal colander? I swear, I’ve been here a year, and I still can’t find where anything is in this kitchen. Good heavens, what is it doing in here?”

Ruth pulled the colander out of a cupboard next to the side door and brought it to the sink.

Kate shaped another burger. “One of my friends back home is a caterer. She showed me how to organize my kitchen for maximum efficiency. I’d be happy to come over some afternoon to see if we could use some of her strategies. If you like. I don’t mean to intrude.”

“Like? Oh, bless your heart, Kate. I’d love it! You’d think that moving from my tiny kitchen to this big one would make life easier, but it’s been the opposite. What are some of her tricks?”

“Well, she took the doors off her upper cabinets, for one thing, but that’s a little extreme for most people. Mostly, she said to think of the kitchen as different stations of activity and be sure it doesn’t take more than two movements to reach anything you use often.”

“We’ve got a
church yard sale coming up. Maybe that would be a good time to go through everything. Not until you’re settled, of course…”

“Just let me know when you need me.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart? Ah, here are the boys! Right on schedule.” Kate tried to appear nonchalant as the sound of car doors slamming met her ears. “Jim! Come here and grab that bowl for me, will you? Kate has her hands full.”

Kate could feel the heat rise in her face as Jim set his grocery bags on the counter and brushed past her. He retrieved the bowl, his shirt pulling taut across his shoulders as he did so. Kate concentrated on her task and willed the wild butterflies in her stomach to quiet down already.

Ruth opened the grocery bags and inspected the tomatoes. “Where are the veggie burgers?”

Jim shrugged. “They weren’t on the list.”

“Weren’t they? Oh, bother. Grace is counting on them, and there are none in the freezer. Would you mind running back to town and picking some up?”

“Why can’t Grace do it?”

“She’s helping your folks get the boat ready for later.” Ruth pointed through the window toward the boat.

“I don’t see her out there.”

“Well, anyway, you can take Kate! It’d be good for someone to show her how to get to the stores. You know how confusing that new intersection can be. I’m sure Susan will be happy to watch Liam while you’re gone.”

Jim turned to Kate, his expression closed.

“You can point me in the right direction,” Kate said as she washed her hands. “I can pick up the burgers. I’m sure I can find my way.”

Jim simply adjusted his cap and pulled it low over his eyes. “I don’t mind.”

J
IM HELD THE DOOR AS
K
ATE SLID onto the bench seat of his truck, her purple shorts pulling snug across her bottom as she shimmied onto the seat. He found it strangely erotic that she wore clothes the color of popsicles. Pulling his gaze from her thighs, he cleared his throat and shut the door.

He didn’t consider himself overly modest, but the distinct possibility that this woman
—correction,
mother
—had seen him in the buff was awkward as hell. He couldn’t imagine what she must be thinking right now, stuck in a truck with an exhibitionist.

Jim started the engine, cleared his throat again and tried to concentrate on the road.

“Would you like a cough drop?”

Jim kept his eyes on the road. “No. Why?”

“That’s the fourth time you’ve cleared your throat. I thought perhaps...”

He cleared it again. “Throat’s dry is all.”

“Oh.”

He shifted down at the stop sign and made the mistake of glancing at Kate.

She sat quietly, her breasts rising and falling evenly under her white T-shirt, the material smooth and taut...

Jim began to clear his throat then decided to disguise it with a cough. Mistake. Now Kate was peering at him with open concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine. Too many fire calls lately. Always dries me out.”

“So you’re a fireman
and
a plumber?”

“No. A volunteer firefighter and a carpenter/general contractor.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest you were just a plumber or anything—”

“It’s all right. I’ve the highest respect for plumbers. I just don’t happen to love the work. Water and I don’t always get along.”

He nearly choked again when he realized what he’d said. Kate was looking out the passenger window, but he could see her face flushing pink, her lips fighting a smile.

“Anyway,” he said, heat flushing his own face, “I prefer carpentry. I just meant that water’s often the cause of the problems I’m called in to fix.”

“I see,” she replied. “So you enjoy carpentry more?”

Grateful they were finally at the grocery store
—and on safe conversational ground—he pulled into the parking lot. “Yes.”

“Rough or smooth?”

Jim whipped his head around. “Pardon me?”

“I mean, finish. Do you prefer rough or finish work?” A slight hint of a smile played around her lips. God they were lush. Like that actress, what’s-her-name.

His gaze dropped to where her hands lay, loosely clasped between her thighs. “Smooth. Incredibly smooth.”

“Pardon me?”

Did he just say that out loud?
“I mean, finish,” he said, yanking the truck into the nearest space and flinging the door wide. “I like finish work best.”

He shut the driver’s door, pocketed his keys and rounded the back of the truck to open her door. Good
Lord. What the hell was wrong with him? The last time he’d acted like this around a female, his voice was still cracking, and back then the only thing on his mind was making it past second base.

Kate slid out of the truck, her purse strap running diagonally through her cleavage. Jim tore his eyes away with effort and turned toward the store.

Clearly nothing had changed.

“I
S THERE ANYTHING ELSE I can help with?” Kate emptied the last bag of chips into a serving bowl and looked around the kitchen. Bowls of homemade potato and garden salads sat next to trays of burgers and hotdogs ready for the grill. A giant pot of water heated on the stove, awaiting a pile of shucked corn on the cob.

Ruth shook her head. “Thanks to you, I think we’re all set in here. Can you hand me that ring by the sink?”

Kate picked up the delicate sapphire and diamond band. “It’s lovely. Anniversary gift?”

Ruth clucked. “Engagement ring. Surprised he could even afford this, we were so young, but he was a sweetheart and wouldn’t hear of saving the money.” She pushed it on her finger and chuckled. “I should probably leave it in my jewelry box. One of these days my knuckles will be so swollen I won’t be able to get it back off.” She shrugged. “Comes with living so long. Anyway, while I wait for the water to boil, maybe you can find something patriotic in that corner cabinet to dress up the tables. I put out white tablecloths earlier, but they’re looking rather plain. I don’t know where all my holiday decorations disappeared to after the move.”

Kate opened the cabinet. There were some mismatched linens, assorted napkin rings, the stubs of a few candles, cookbooks, a collection of seashells in mason jars and a pile of junk mail. Yes. A reorganization was definitely in order.  “There’s not much in the way of red, white and blue. How do you feel about a beach theme?”

“Why not?”

Kate grabbed the seashells, mason jars, and some assorted placemats in hues of blues and greens and turned, knocking a manila envelope to the floor. She set down her decorating supplies and bent to pick it up.

Ruth waved her hand. “Just set that on the counter. They’re photos of Carter, my grandson.” She leaned forward. “I’m working up my nerve to look at them. I’m afraid they might be a little spicy.”

“Spicy?”

“He can be that way, you know, but it may work to our advantage.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s for one of our fundraisers. The Gifts for the Greater Good committee is raising money to fix up the food pantry and emergency shelter here in town. Oh, the roof had ice dams and there was all sorts of water damage. Anyway, James gave us an estimate on the work and when I brought it to the committee…  Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed how handsome my grandsons are, but, I said to myself, ‘Ruth, who wouldn’t want to look on their handsome faces all year long?’”

Nonplussed, Kate felt heat rise up her throat. Was that a rhetorical question?

“So we decided to put together a calendar, and we’re calling it ‘Sweets of Sugar Falls!’ At least, that’s what Lydia wants to call it. I’m still not sure it sends the right message, though I admit it has a nice ring to it.

“Every month will be a new photo, see? One of our very own boys. Carter sent his photos over a couple days ago.” Ruth motioned at Kate. “Open it. It’ll be good to get a young lady’s opinion.”

Kate undid the envelope’s clasp and pulled out a glossy eight-by-ten. A bare-chested man in faded jeans leaned on a shovel, one muscular forearm swiping the sweat from his brow as he smiled cockily at the camera. Self-confident, good-looking and dripping with sexuality
—a
boy
he was not. “Wow.”

“Well? Do you think it’ll sell calendars?”

Kate slid the photo back into the envelope and suppressed a smile. “Most definitely.”

Ruth beamed and nearly clapped her hands. “I’m so glad. I was a little nervous, to tell the truth. Carter can be a bit of a wild card sometimes.” Kate gathered her supplies.  “Of course I’m not sure what we’ll do if we have more than twelve good entries. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. We’re still working out the kinks, I’m afraid.”

“You could always have people vote for their favorites.” At Ruth’s puzzled look, Kate continued. “If you had a website or social networking fan page, you could post the photos on-line for people to vote on. I did that for Spirit Week last year at the school I work for. The kids made school pride banners and then voted on their favorites.  It really brought the kids together. Who knows, if you involve the community, it could build interest in the calendar.”

“And boost sales! Oh, that’s brilliant! We could announce the winners at the auction we’re holding over Labor Day weekend, too. That may be just what we need to bring us over the top of our fundraising goals.” Ruth grinned, the twinkle in her eyes taking decades off her face. “But who would do it? I wouldn’t know the first thing about setting something like that up.”

“I suppose I—”

“Oh, bless you! If you were willing to organize the entries and keep things respectable, it’d be
such
a help.”

Kate licked her lips. “You want me to make your beefcake calendar web page respectable?”

Ruth nodded vigorously. “We wouldn’t want it to appear unseemly.”

“Of course not.”

“It
is
for a worthy cause,” she added.

“Absolutely.”

Ruth rested a wrinkled hand on Kate’s arm, her voice soft and comforting. “Normally, I wouldn’t dream of imposing on you, what with your recent loss and all, but June
was
talking the other day about how worried she is about you. Maybe a little project like this will help take your mind off your troubles.”

Kate’s eyebrows shot up. Coordinating with dozens of local bachelors would take her mind off her troubles? Okay, well perhaps momentarily, but that’s probably what Pandora thought as she approached the box.
How lovely! I wonder what I’ll find in here to amuse me?

“Um. I appreciate your thinking of my, um, troubles, but I don’t know. What if someone got the wrong idea? I’m not ready…”

“Oh, honey, they don’t have to know it’s you! In fact, now that I think about it, it’s probably best they don’t. They might try to sway you otherwise. Nothing worse than a contest that seems rigged. We want it all on the up and up, don’t we?”

“Of course. But
—”

“We’ll worry about the details later.” Ruth patted her hand. “Will you at least think about it? Oh, it feels like fate that we had this talk today, doesn’t it?”

It was feeling a wee bit like manipulation, actually, but it’d be selfish to say no. She was staying in this woman’s cottage for free the entire summer! And, honestly, how much trouble would it be? Who knows, if she did a good job, it could be a resume builder. “Sure. I’ll think about it. It might be fun.”