Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (57 page)

A passing dog bumped her thigh, and Kate straightened. She’d have to say something to him tonight.

He’ll think I’m jealous.

Not if you handle it carefully.

Kate hitched her bag on her shoulder and set her feet in motion, her ire rising with each step. Didn’t Lucas know she had a reputation to protect? Hadn’t he given any thought to how it would appear, him gallivanting all over the island with another woman?

She composed her features as she entered the shop, the bell jangling against the glass door. Soft music greeted her, and the airconditioning was welcome against her heated skin. But there was no sign of Lucas or the woman on the floor.

“Nice lunch, Kate?” Ethan called from behind the mahogany desk. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses.

“Sure.” She hesitated on the first step. “Is Lucas around?”

“He’s in the back.” Ethan leaned over his papers.

Behind her, a customer entered the store, and Ethan stood.

Kate started up the stairs. “Thanks, I’ll just . . . talk to him later.”

Why would he take Red to the back of the store?
There was nothing there but the pieces he was working on and a bunch of tools.

Her heels clicked up the wood steps. When she reached the top, she hung her bag on the coatrack and sat at her desk. Ethan hadn’t acted as if anything was amiss. He would know if something was going on between Lucas and Red. Kate was letting her imagination run wild.

Come on, Kate; get back to work.
She moved the computer mouse, stopping the screen saver, and the article she’d been working on before lunch appeared. She’d already condensed the letter and needed to formulate an answer for Never a Bride in Albany, whose letter smacked of desperation.

Kate wrote a reply then reread it, editing as she went. The second letter she’d chosen was already succinct, but she edited it down and typed it into the document as well, then formulated her answer. When she was finished with the article, she stood and stretched. Of their own volition, her feet carried her to the street window.

Below, in the parking slot in front of the store, was the silver car. Her heart sank. She checked her
watch. It had been an hour. What were Lucas and that woman doing downstairs? What if . . . ?

What if Lucas had been dating Red before they got married? Was it possible he was seeing someone on the side? Was it possible he was in love with the woman?

A space inside her hollowed out.

What do I care? Our marriage isn’t real. We’ll be divorced in less
than ten months.

But the memory of their kiss kicked to the surface of her thoughts.

There is more than a contractual agreement between us.

The confession filled the pit of her stomach with something both pleasant and disturbing. She was relieved to finally admit actual feelings for Lucas were growing like tenacious weeds in a carefully cultivated garden. But like those weeds, the feelings were undesired. They didn’t belong; their presence was a hindrance.

Kate’s gaze centered on the silver car, and she bit the tender flesh inside her mouth. What possible reason could the woman have for being down there so long? Were they still in the back? Maybe Kate could go down under some pretense.

But what reason could she have? Her mind was a blank screen. She could almost see a skinny cursor blinking on the white space, taunting her.

It would be suspicious if she went down. She never interrupted Lucas while he worked, and the last thing she wanted was to give him the pleasure of thinking she was curious about Red. Or worse, jealous.

If only she could hear what they were saying. Then she would know if anything—

She remembered something. The vents. Kate walked across the room to her old apartment, the sound of her heels muffled by the rug. The noise from the workshop carried through the heating ducts into her old living room. She remembered all the nights listening to Lucas’s sander through the vents. She’d contemplated throttling him some evenings when she wanted peace after a day of listening to people’s problems.

She walked to the vent against the back wall, where she kicked off her heels and squatted down, listening. Were they still in the workshop or had they gone back into the store? On the balls of her stocking feet, she balanced with a hand on the wall and stilled.

There were voices, barely audible. She heard the deep tones of Lucas’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. Was that a woman’s voice she heard now? She couldn’t be sure. Kate set her knees on the floor by the register and leaned down further, pressing her palms to the dusty floor. There was nothing now, just silence.

No, there it was, a woman’s voice, too quiet to make out.

She needed to get closer. Maybe then she could hear what they were saying.

Kate glanced down at her suit, weighing the dirty wood floor against the notion of letting her curiosity go unsatisfied. Then, with a sigh, she lowered herself to the floor, lying flat on her stomach. The suit was bound for the cleaners now.

As she bent her head, her thick metal earring clanged on the vent’s louvered cover and she rose up enough to remove it, then set her ear against the cool metal surface.

There was a screech, like the sound of a chair against the concrete floor. Lucas was saying something. She stilled.

“. . . that’s what I thought.”

Red spoke again, but Kate couldn’t make it out.
Speak up,
woman!

It was quiet again, and Kate didn’t even dare to swallow in case she missed something.

“What do you . . .” The rest of Lucas’s words were muffled, like he’d turned away. Kate heard a creak and knew he’d leaned against his old metal desk.

“. . . like the way . . . very nice . . . .” Kate didn’t like her tone, even muffled through the ductwork.

The sound of heels clicking on the floor reached Kate’s ears. Was the woman walking toward Lucas? Away from him? She didn’t hear his footsteps, though his sandals were soft soled.

Then there was nothing but quiet from below. The silence unnerved her. What were they doing down there? Her imagination filled the gap. She imagined Red approaching Lucas, placing her long, slender fingers along the side of his neck. Was he wrapping his arms around the woman even now? Was he kissing her the way he’d kissed Kate the week before?

Heat prickled the back of her neck.

That’s silly. If he were seeing someone else before he married me, he
wouldn’t have married me.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t interested in the woman now.

Maybe he’d met her after they married and was pursuing the relationship. Did Kate really have any rights to him? Any say in what he did in the privacy of his own workshop?

He’s married to me. Even if it is in name only, he owes me the respect
of keeping his vows.

She had kept hers, after all. It wasn’t her fault that Bryan called sometimes.

She sighed. Though now that the cramped stiletto was on the other foot, she realized it was unfair to take Bryan’s calls. Lucas had been angry last time Bryan called.
“He has no right to call my house,”
he’d said. Maybe it was just caveman tactics that inspired the words, but followed so closely by those other words—the ones she’d repeated in her mind ever since—his anger took on a different meaning.

“What if I want you to stay?”

Had he meant it the way she thought? Did Lucas want their marriage to be real?

That’s crazy.
Although the notion held more appeal than was healthy for two individuals so incompatible, Lucas had never given any other indication he considered the marriage binding. Except, well, the fact that he’d kissed her. And boy, had he kissed her. Her stomach fluttered now just thinking about it. Maybe he did want more.

Yeah, Kate, that’s why he’s alone downstairs with that beautiful,
leggy redhead.

And why is it so quiet down there?
Kate pressed her ear on the vent and listened.

Love doesn’t have to be complicated.

—Excerpt from
Finding Mr. Right-for-You
by Dr. Kate

Chapter Twenty

“It shouldn’t be too long.” Lucas opened the door for Sydney. “I’ll call you when it’s finished.”

“Feel free to call before then if you have any questions.” Sydney’s smile indicated a call would be welcome, questions or not.

With nothing more than a polite nod, Lucas let the door close and wiped his hands on his jeans. He appreciated the business—she was giving him plenty—but the woman had the subtlety of a shark in a fish pool. He had little respect for a woman who ignored a man’s wedding band. Did she even care that he belonged to someone else?

You’re only a name on a wedding certificate, man.

His eyes wandered up the staircase to Kate’s office. Would she mind if he interrupted her work? He hated to admit it, but he’d missed having lunch with her. Missed the way she wiped her lips after every bite. Missed the way she separated the food on her plate so nothing touched.

Mostly, he missed listening to her talk about her work. At first glance, some might think Kate’s career was self-serving. But if they heard her talk about people—heard the excitement in her voice when she helped someone—they’d know differently.

It was quiet upstairs, not even the clacking of her computer keys. Maybe she was taking a break. Lucas took the stairs, glad for the opportunity to shake the cloying cloud of Sydney’s perfume.

When he reached the second floor, her
office chair was empty. A colorful screensaver danced on the computer, indicating she hadn’t been typing for some time. Strange—he
knew she was there; her car was out front.

He was about to call for her when he saw movement at the back of the building, through her old apartment doorway. He walked the length of the rug—and stopped. Beyond the coffee table, Kate lay flat as a mat on the floor. Her head faced the wall, ear to the floor—or was that the vent? One hand clutched the hair at her nape, pulling her cream-colored suit coat up at the waist. Her pants hugged the curve of her derrière, and the tops of her feet skimmed the floor.

What in the world? Why would she be lying over the—

Unless . . .

His lips curved into a smile as the wonder of it washed over him, cool and refreshing.

Oh yeah. This was going to be good.

Lucas leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms, biding his time. Finally, when she didn’t budge, he cleared his throat.

Kate jumped, turned toward him, letting loose of her hair. The air must have kicked on because a blast blew a strand across her face.

“Looking for something?” He almost felt sorry for her as she scrambled into a sitting position. But the look on her face was too comical, and the feelings her jealousy inspired, too heartening.

“Lucas. I was just—” She dusted her suit coat, working her flattened fingers down the length of her arm in short swipes. “My earring.” She held out a circular piece of jewelry lying in her palm. “I was getting my earring.”

Who was she kidding? She’d been lying flat on the floor, her ear against the register. She was caught. Nailed. Busted.

“Did it fall down the vent?” He held back a smile, barely.

Her cheeks bloomed with color as she attempted to put the earring in. Even across the room he could see her hand shaking. “Of course not. It just—” Kate tried again to poke the earring through the hole and failed. She gave up and looked at him like a butterfly caught in a net.

He raised his brows, waiting.

At that, her shoulders drew back, her chin tipped. “All right, all right,” she snapped. “You made your point.”

Lucas approached her, feeling sorry for her now that she knew she was caught. Still, there was that whole jealousy thing that tugged the corners of his mouth.

Kate set her earring on the coffee table and struggled to stand. When he extended his hand, she smacked it away, her eyes narrowing as she straightened. Her crisp white shirt had come loose from her waistband, and her hair was tousled like she’d just awakened. She smoothed it and tucked it behind her ears with quick hands.

“I saw you after lunch with that . . . woman,” Kate said. “I was worried about how it might look to other people.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We have an image to maintain, and it’s not proper for you to be gallivanting all over the island with someone else.”

Her words were so ridiculous he didn’t know where to begin.
“Gallivanting?”

She looked him in the eye. “You know what I mean. People will notice when you’re eating with another woman. It’s a small island—”

“I didn’t eat with Sydney.” Was that really what was bugging Kate? What everyone else thought? The notion sucked some of the air from his sails.

“Well, whatever. It’s not proper for you to be seen with someone like that.” Her lips, free of artificial color, pressed together.

Was she only concerned about her reputation, or was she hiding her jealousy behind its mask? “Someone like what?” he asked, curious to hear her answer.

“Someone like—You know what I mean. She isn’t exactly unattractive, and she’s . . . clingy.”