Beach House No 9 - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,13

many strung-tight nerves to find a reprieve in that kind of release.

Okay, and he'd also been trying to get some distance from her.

"I'm going inside," he said, turning toward the back door, Private close to his thigh. "Sweet dreams, Rex."

"Griffin."

His feet stopped moving. He'd almost convinced his brain that Jane wasn't still standing there. Those three-hundred-plus days in Afghanistan had demonstrated the power of the mind. During his stint with the troops, on occasion he would swear he smelled hot water - and it did have a scent. Other mornings he'd woken, and before he'd opened his eyes he would hear Gage humming his favorite Lynyrd Skynyrd tune. He could feel his brother just a few feet away.

Once, after an incident like that, he'd managed to reach his twin via sat phone. He'd asked him what, if anything, he'd been singing to himself as he washed up for the day. "Free Bird." Yeah, it had felt really, really real.

But Governess Jane was really, really real as well. So he turned to face her. "What is it? You rethinking that slap?"

Her lips were in their primmed state. "About what happened last night...you should know I don't scare off so easily."

She thought he'd had a motive beyond her mouth? "Clearly."

"And if you come near me with that purpose in mind again, it won't be your face that feels the pain."

His brows rose. He didn't plan on ever seeing her again, let alone kissing her, but he decided against clueing her in. And for damn sure he wasn't going to confess that kissing her had been only about impulse, not intention. "Fine."

She started to move off, and it was then he noticed the medium-sized piece of luggage in her hand. His hackles rose. "What do you have there?" he asked, gesturing to it.

"I believe it's called a duffel bag?"

Goose bumps were forming along his spine. "You're out of here, right?" Please, God, she was leaving.

"I'm out of here, but not going far," she said smugly. "I'm moving into the vacant bungalow next door."

* * *

IT TOOK LITTLE TIME for Jane to get situated in No. 8. It was much smaller than Griffin's place, and she'd brought only a few items from her apartment. That was a small space too, and a long commute - even by SoCal standards - from here. She didn't feel a particular attachment to it. Often her job had taken her away from the one-bedroom for weeks at a time when a client had wanted her closer. Of course, in this case her client wanted her anything but closer, but he'd thank her for her dedication in the end. She was sure of it.

The idea had come to Jane as she'd picked her way past the empty cottage after leaving the party - after that kiss. If Griffin was pulling out all the stops to chase her off, her solution was to place herself even more underfoot. Following this morning's first cup of coffee, she'd found Skye Alexander's phone number and made the arrangements.

The only flaw was how distracting Jane found the endless view of ocean and the ever-changing play of waves against sand. If Rex Monroe hadn't stopped by with a leather-bound volume of plastic-sheathed pages, she might have succumbed to temptation and spent the afternoon concerning herself with nothing more than the freckles a sunbath might bring out on her nose.

Now, though, she laid Rex's book on the small dining table situated between the galley kitchen and postage-stamp living room. To the right of the album, she set her sweating glass of iced tea. Her pulse picked up as she drew out a chair. She had a feeling she'd find the key to achieving Griffin's cooperation here.

A knock sounded on the front door. With a pat and a promise for the book, she turned toward the entry. It was the property manager, Skye, on the other side of the threshold. Today the brunette had her hair in a tight French braid, revealing the fine bones of her slender face. She didn't wear a stitch of makeup and was dressed in baggy chinos and a T-shirt. A sweater-vest that must have been the discard of a male relative concealed more of her shape.

She held up a red glass plate piled with cookies and covered by plastic wrap. "I thought you might enjoy these. Are you settling in okay?"

Jane gestured her inside and led her toward the small couch and adjacent easy chair that sat across from a small

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024