The Trouble With Love (19 page)

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Authors: Beth Ciotta

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BOOK: The Trouble With Love
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Rocky frowned. “Adam’s a nice guy—”

“Exactly.”

“But not for me.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Luke said as he parked his rugged Explorer behind their big brother’s luxury Escalade.

“Do me a favor and please be civil to Jayce,” Rocky said. “I’ve had enough drama for one day.”

“Civil. Got it. Movin’ on.” Luke tossed his sunglasses on the dash. “Do me a favor and go easy on the PDA. I’m not up for it yet.”

“I don’t do PDA,” Rocky said, then tamped down a flutter of panic. What if Jayce looked at her all smoldery eyed and she got flustered thinking about the way he’d licked icing from her body? Or what if he said something that set her off and she blasted him regarding their issues?
Get a grip!
“How do I look?”

“I told you. Different. You might want to douse that glow.”

“Get real.” Still, Rocky stole a look in the visor mirror.
Did
she look different? Granted she’d fussed over her appearance more than she usually did, forgoing braids and opting for a half-up, half-down do, applying an extra coat of mascara, changing her clothes three times before settling on black jeans, a V-necked black tee, and the bright teal corduroy blazer and funky scarf she’d bought in New York. So she looked a little more polished than usual. She certainly was
not
glowing. Although she had to admit (to herself anyway) there was a giddy spring in her step. That last lovemaking session with Jayce had turned her inside out and hopeful. Maybe they did have a chance at a romantic relationship. Maybe it would work out.

Or maybe it would be a disaster.

“Earth to Rocky.”

“Sorry.” Nervous excitement surged through her blood. Reality check: Given all the rows and revelations over the past forty-eight hours, dinner
was
going to be tense and awkward. Rocky squared her shoulders and pushed open the car door. “Let’s get this over with.”

“The quicker the better.”

*   *   *

Asking Rocky to decorate his house had been a spontaneous decision, but one that worked on several levels for Jayce. It would afford them time together based on a mutual cause, time to build and shape their relationship beyond the physical attraction. He’d be paying her for her services, which meant he’d be helping her financially without denting her pride. And she’d be instilling 241 Lark Lane with a sense of charm and comfort. It was up to Jayce to banish the ugly memories within those walls, but at least Rocky could pave the way superficially. Every room in her B and B screamed whimsy, nostalgia, and good taste, offering Jayce a dose of old-fashioned contentment. Even a touch of that in his parents’ house would go a long way.

He got the same easy feeling the moment he pulled into Daisy Monroe’s driveway. Stepping into the eccentric woman’s three-story Colonial Revival was akin to leaping back in time for Jayce. Not just because of the antique furnishings and overabundance of nineteenth-century collectibles, but because of the wealth of memories the eclectic and cozy rooms inspired.

Growing up, he and Dev had been inseparable, so when Dev had visited his grandparents Jayce usually tailed along. Sunday dinners had been the highlight of many a week. A rotating guest list of the Monroes and extended relatives, including the McClouds and Bentleys. Charged conversation and a lot of laughs.

Although when he’d been alive, Daisy’s husband, Jessup, hadn’t been the source of ribald fun. A powerful town figure and head of J. T. Monroe’s Department Store, the old man had been a stern, overbearing soul. All work, no play. Daisy had been reserved though kind. Jessup’s death had affected her deeply and in a way that had surprised everyone, including Jayce. He’d expected her to wither and flounder, unable to navigate the world on her own. Just the opposite. Over the last few years, Daisy had blossomed into an outspoken free spirit. Her newfound sense of adventure extended to an outrageous wardrobe and accessories. The newest twist—purple hair. He’d managed to stifle his shock. Unfortunately, he’d had a more difficult time hiding his reaction when he’d tasted her version of a Screaming Fuzzy Navel. Running low on vodka, she’d substituted coconut rum. Fortunately, Chloe’s amazing vegetable platter had purged the nastiness of that botched cocktail from his tongue.

For the most part, conversation over drinks and then on into dinner had flowed like old times, mostly due to Daisy and Nash. Those two were full of gossip and questions. Luke cast Jayce an occasional irritated look, and Chloe seemed a little uptight. Dev was in a surprisingly good mood, although he did tense every time Vince Redding treated Daisy with affection.

As for Rocky, instead of ignoring Jayce or keeping her distance, as had been her practice for the last several years, she’d conversed with him as easily as Nash. She even sat next to Jayce at the dinner table—a blessing and a curse. He knew she was working hard to keep the overall tone casual. It was all he could do not to reach under the table to squeeze her thigh in reassurance. Or to brush her loose curls over her shoulders every time they fell forward obstructing his view of her beautiful face. He ached to lean closer, to connect physically. But surely even the most innocent touch would betray his screaming lust for this woman. He sensed the same restrained passion in Rocky, saw it in her eyes—whenever she dared to meet his gaze. Granted, they’d agreed to allow the dust to settle on their past before making waves with the present. Still. How was it no one else noticed the sexual tension raging between them? No curious looks or ribbing. No prying. Talk remained focused on the success of Moose-a-lotta and Jayce’s surprising move home.

“I don’t get it,” Daisy said. “How do you solve crimes on a computer?”

“It’s a specialized service,” Jayce explained. Daisy wasn’t the only one seated around the table who’d looked confused when he’d announced his intention to open a cyberinvestigation agency. “Data breaches, identity theft, cyberstalking, asset tracing and recovery. I’m particularly interested in Internet defamation.”

“Still lost,” Daisy said as Vince loaded her plate with another potion of garlic mashed potatoes.

“Do you know what a blog is?” Jayce asked.

“Sure,” Daisy said. “Chloe and I surf cooking blogs all the time.”

His mouth quirked. Daisy Monroe, sporting Kool-Aid hair color and a geriatric boyfriend (if the gleam in Vince’s eyes was any indication), texting and surfing the Net. Time had not stood still in Sugar Creek. “By targeting blogs, Web sites, e-mail, social media—”

“Places like Facebook and Twitter,” Dev interjected.

“—an anonymous poster can bring a business to its knees or malign a person’s reputation within minutes by spreading slander and false information across the cyberworld.”

“Cyberbullies,” Chloe said with a look of disgust. “You hear more about them every day. Especially those cases involving teens. More severe cases end up with the victim taking their own life.”

“Suicide?” Daisy railed. “That’s awful!”

“Agreed.” Just one of the many injustices that pushed Jayce’s buttons. “Other variations include scammers and corporate hackers. Part of my job will be to ID these attackers, assist in stopping them, and also devise a plan to permanently remove all damaging materials from the Internet.”

“Sounds technically challenging,” Luke said.

“Sounds noble,” Daisy said with a righteous sniff.

“I’m with Luke,” Rocky said. “Sounds like a severe deviation from standard detective work. Won’t you need some sort of IT training?”

“What’s IT?” Vince asked.

“Information Technology,” Dev said. “Jayce completed a course several months ago.”

Rocky glanced at her brother. “You knew about this career change?”

“Just about the new interest in computer science.”

“Won’t you miss the cloak-and-dagger stuff?” Nash asked Jayce. “You know. Tailing suspected adulterers. Bugging apartments. Sniffing out dirt on crooked politicians.”

“As glamorous as it sounds, no.” He’d had more than his fill of the tawdrier aspects of his former business. The day-to-day exposure to the senseless and heinous crimes of the big city had taken its toll. He’d grown cynical and unmotivated. Not that he’d been consciously aware until his friend Mrs. Watson had gently pointed out his increasingly pissy attitude over the last year. The first chime of his wake-up call.

“Not that it would be all that exciting,” Nash said, “but I think you should run for town sheriff.”

“Now there’s an idea!” Daisy said. “‘Sheriff Bello.’ I like the sound of that. Stability. Respectability. Plus you wouldn’t have your nose up the Burkes’ butts like Stone.”

“Elections are next month,” Nash added.

“The town would benefit from some new blood on the force,” Dev said. “Not that I’m pushing,” he added after a quick glance to Chloe.

Jayce felt the force of everyone’s attention, including Rocky’s. “The stability aspect is tempting.” Especially for someone hoping to start a family. Health insurance. Pension.
Tend to your soul.
“But I think I can do more good on the outside.”

“A do-gooder rebel,” Rocky noted. “Interesting.”

“Are cyberinvestigators in great demand?” Vince asked.

“The good ones are,” Jayce said, pulling his attention away from Rocky’s gorgeous face.

“Knowing you,” Dev said, “you’ll be one of the best.”

“Man of many talents,” Rocky said more to herself than anyone else, but everyone heard. It wasn’t what she said so much as hint of a secret smile as she stirred sweetener into her iced tea.

That’s when Jayce felt it. The first ripple of awkwardness.

*   *   *

Crap.

Rocky realized her mistake a second after the words escaped her mouth. She glanced up and saw Gram eyeing her with a bemused grin, saw Chloe rise a little too quickly from her seat.

“Almost time for dessert,” Chloe said, shooting Rocky a perturbed look. “I’ll put on the coffee. Excuse me.”

Dev watched Chloe go, then looked back to Rocky, one brow raised.

Luke redirected the conversation with the worst segue of all time. “Speaking of injured reputations, I’m worried about Sam’s. He’s fast becoming the topic of conversation around town.”

“The Eternal Widower.” Nash shrugged when Luke glared. “Just sharing what I heard.”

“There was talk at church,” Daisy said in a conspiring tone. “Well, after church. Ethel heard it from Helen, who heard it from her cousin who dined at the Sugar Shack last night around the same time as our poor Sam and Rachel. She said they both looked miserable. No love match there, I’m afraid.”

“I heard about it, too,” Dev said to Luke. “Was it really that bad?”

“It was bad,” Luke said. “But like Sam said, they were under a lot of pressure to hit it off. I spent the afternoon with him and—”

“I’ll help Chloe with dessert and coffee.” Desperate for a moment alone with the woman, Rocky gathered her plate and utensils.

“Don’t you want to hear about this?” Nash asked.

“Luke filled me in on the ride over. Honestly,” she snapped. “Why can’t people mind their own business? So they got off on a bad foot. Doesn’t mean they won’t hit it off on the second try.”

Another curious look from Dev.

Dammit!

Jayce’s boot knocked against hers as if to say,
Easy, Dash.

Smiling, Rocky stood. “Excuse me.” It was all she could do not to sprint into the kitchen. As it was, she pushed through the door with a little too much zeal. “Are you mad at me?” she whispered to Chloe, who was in the process of grinding java beans.

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Jayce slept together again?”

Rocky’s cheeks burned. “Why would you think that? Are we that obvious?”

“So it’s true. Happened in New York, I assume.”

“And this morning at my place.”

“So, it’s like a thing? A serious, steady
affair?

“I don’t know about the ‘serious’ part. Unless you mean serious sex. Adventurous sex. The kind—”

“I don’t need details, Rocky.” Chloe flipped the deluxe coffeemaker to Brew, then hustled toward the frosted cake on the counter.

“Why are you so pissed?”

“Because you’re doing it again. You’re fooling around with Jayce behind everyone’s back. Behind
Devlin’s
back. Why didn’t you just tell him this morning when you came clean about the past? You and Jayce are an item.”

Rocky’s heart pounded. “It’s not that simple. We may be hot for each other, but we may not be long-term. It’s complicated, Chloe. Jayce is as good as family. If we pursue this and screw it up, it could be messy. Hard-to-live-with messy.”

“I never took you, of all people, for a wimp,” Chloe said. “And Jayce? I’m sorry. Family or not, I seriously wonder about his character.”

Rocky gawked, stunned at her gentle friend’s outburst.

Even if Rocky had wanted to push the issue, the booming voices from the dining room proved a distraction. Her heart pumped as dread flooded her entire being. “Oh no. Do you think Dev figured it out? Do you think—”

Chloe blew out of the kitchen and Rocky hurried after. It was Dev all right. Red faced and shouting at Gram, who was shouting right back. Luke and Vince kept trying to interrupt, which added to the chaos.

“What in heaven’s name?” Chloe asked.

Panicked, Rocky dropped into her chair next to Jayce. “Is it—”

Jayce hushed her by squeezing her thigh. She was about to say
us.
Leaning in, voice low, he nodded toward their indignant host. “Daisy just dropped a bomb. Apparently, she’s moving in with Vince.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Did you try calling Daisy?” Chloe asked as she came out of the bathroom toweling her hair dry.

Devlin, who was lounging on the bed in his sweats and a wrinkled tee, looked up from the publishing contract he’d been reviewing since yesterday. “Three times. No answer.”

“Did you text?”


That
she answered. To quote:
I’m not talking to you. Buzz off.

Heartsick, Chloe sat on the edge of the mattress. “She told you to buzz off?”

“She texted me to buzz off. Swear to God, she’s growing more eccentric by the day. How am I going to keep Dad from hearing this latest bit about Vince?”

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