Copper Lake Encounter Page 6

“Sure.”

  The inside of the house was more in keeping with her expectations. Though the architectural style was as traditional as Southern belles and fried okra, the furnishings were modern and the paint on the walls was anything but traditional: chocolate brown in the living room, hunter green in the front guest room and navy blue in the master bedroom. Sleek metal blinds hung at the windows, and the rugs covering the glossy wood floors were bold in color or pattern, sometimes both.

  The kitchen was a work in progress. The walls were painted deep gray, the counters stainless steel to match the appliances and cabinets, and silvery glass tile sat awaiting installation on the backsplash. It was too modern for her tastes, but what did she know? She’d lived in the same house her entire life, and except for her own room, she’d had no say about any of it.

  “It’s very impressive.”

  Ty’s laughter echoed off all the metal. “Is that your go-to word when you don’t know quite what to say? I know it’s not for everyone, but it works for me. And I haven’t done anything that can’t be undone. When I get married, if my wife doesn’t like it, we can rip it all out and start over.”

  She wondered as she drew her fingers along one cool counter what kind of woman appealed to him. Pretty, certainly. Someone who worked out as much as he did, probably. She would have to love his grandfather and his dog, and she would probably love her career, too. Though not too much to interrupt it for kids, if Mr. Obadiah had his way.

  “Wouldn’t it have been easier to consult her first?”

  “If I’d met her yet, I would have.” He shrugged and then leaned against the cabinets beside the smooth steel cook top, folding his arms across his chest. Muscular arms. Muscular chest. “I spent the last couple years in an on-and-off thing with a fellow cop. It kind of distracted me.”

  The charm-free woman who carried a gun and didn’t know how to be polite and whom Mr. Obadiah hadn’t liked. Knowing Ty no better than she did, Nev knew a bad impression on his grandfather would make a permanent relationship virtually impossible. “And it’s off for now?”

  “For good. We don’t bring out the best in each other. That’s important.”

  She agreed. She’d said as much to Marieka once, and her sister had mistaken complement for compliment. Of course she would marry only a man who complimented her, she’d said with an eye-roll, preferably daily.

  “I don’t meet many people our age who have already bought a house,” she remarked.

  “I couldn’t have if the previous owner hadn’t made me a deal. Anamaria lived here when she was a kid and then moved to Savannah with her grandmother. When she came back, she wound up marrying into the family that owns just about everything in the county. She wanted someone to take care of the place, so...” He shrugged, his arms open to encompass the gray-and-silver kitchen.

  Pushing away from the counter, he started toward the rear door. “After this room, I’ll redo the bathroom. Then my next project will be out here. I want to add another porch to pick up the breezes off the river.”

  She stepped through the doorway into a tiny utility room and then through another door onto an even tinier stoop: just two boards wide then steps leading into the grass. There were no railings, barely room for two people to stand side by side. In fact, their arms bumped when he gestured. “Great view, isn’t it?”

  It was: a large yard stretching back to meet trees on one side, tall grasses and shrubs on the other. When the wind blew, the grasses rustled and bent under its force, a graceful sweep this afternoon. From just the other side came the chug of a boat on the river, the sound drifting with the river’s smells, the sweet scents of flowers, the rich smell of green.

  A spate of barking erupted around front, deep and throaty, followed by two blasts of a car horn. Ty’s brows drew together in a frown, and his mouth tightened. “Great,” he muttered and then excused himself and went inside.

  It really was a view to enjoy, Nev thought as she turned to go in, too. Her hand resting on the doorknob, though, she stopped and stared at the light fixture above. It was old-fashioned, round, the glass dotted with air bubbles, the bulb inside it yellow. She was sure she’d seen similar fixtures dozens of times, but this one...this one seemed...

  Her hand trembled until she gripped the knob tightly enough to numb her fingertips, and her gaze darted toward the river and then back again. This light would glow clearly under a dark sky, visible from the tall grasses when the rain fell, a beacon to a curly-haired child caught out in a storm. Softer lights from the windows would beckon that child...as well as the frightened woman trying to catch her in a dream that had felt all too real.

  Another burst of barking from Frank, this time sounding angry, startled her out of the moment. She opened the door and hastily made her way through the utility room, the kitchen and the living room to the front door. Through the glass she saw Frank, standing protectively next to Ty, who was in the driveway beside a red car and a woman nearly as tall as he was. Nearly as solid as he was, too, with nearly as much presence.

  The on-again-currently-off-again gun-toting ex-girlfriend.

  The fact that she was white surprised Nev, though she wasn’t sure why. Most people she knew dated regardless of race, ethnicity or anything else. Marieka’s most serious relationship had been with a gorgeous blond from Seattle.

  This woman was fair-skinned, pretty in an atypical way. She was slender, had mile-long legs and the kind of muscular calves a woman had to earn. Her brown hair had enough curl to frizz in the humidity, but the clip she used to corral it gave it a wedge shape. Given an hour with a flatiron, Nev could have her hair glossy and smooth.

  Not that every woman liked her hair straightened within an inch of its life. YaYa had always worn her hair natural. Lima kept hers straightened or wore a wig. Marieka followed trends. Lima had always straightened Nev’s as a child, complaining every time about the texture, and as an adult, she’d stuck with what she’d known.

  Not every man liked straightened hair, either.

  Did Ty have a preference?

  None of her business. Neither was this meeting with his ex-girlfriend. Though it was tough, Nev took a breath, moved away from the door and sat down on the sofa to wait.

  * * *

  Kiki wore shorts that revealed long, lean legs and a top that showed portions of a brightly colored swimsuit. Her usual style was bikini, the skimpier, the better. Even in flip-flops with a thin sole, she was almost eye-to-eye with him.

  “I appreciate the invitation,” he said, one hand resting on Frank’s collar. Though the dog was well trained, he wasn’t taking any chances considering that Kiki was the one person Frank ever showed aggression toward. Granddad said it was proof of Frank’s good taste and implied that Ty was lacking such taste.

  Any other time, Ty might have agreed to join a half dozen of their fellow cops at Copper Lake outside town for swimming, burgers on the grill and a beer or two. In the past, he even would have gone with Kiki. He’d learned, though, after enough breakups, that what he intended as casual interaction, she usually interpreted as more and somehow they ended back together and not liking it.

  That wasn’t happening again.

  “So put that mutt inside, change into shorts and let’s go.”

  “Nah, not today.” Even if he didn’t prefer to spend the time with Nev, he wouldn’t go to the lake with Kiki or without Frank.

  “Oh, come on, Ty. What are you gonna do? Stick around here with that smelly dog? Go sit at Pops’s and listen to your joints start to creak? We’re not talking a date. It’s just a bunch of your coworkers getting together for some fun.” Her smile was sly, taunting. “Ryder’s coming, too. I just left his apartment to go home and change. He’s meeting us there.”

  That was Ty’s cue to get jealous. In the past he would have. But in the past, he hadn’t dated anyone else between bouts with Kiki. He hadn�
�t met another woman who interested him.

  Nev seriously interested him.

  “You guys have fun. Have a beer for me.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked again.

  For every fraction her gaze narrowed, his jaw tightened. The time when she’d been entitled to question him was past. Hadn’t she just pointed out that she’d spent the day with Ryder Benton?

  His lack of answer didn’t slow her down. “I noticed a strange car in Pops’s driveway. He have company?”

  Of course she noticed. She was a cop, and she’d always had a few trust issues in her relationships.

  “Yeah, he has a guest.” Who was now somewhere inside Ty’s house or out back, but that wasn’t Kiki’s business.

  “Anyone I know?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Kiki shifted positions, and at his side, a low growl started deep in Frank’s throat. She gave him an irritated look. She wasn’t warm and fuzzy with either animals or kids. When he’d realized that, Ty had known deep in his heart that the thing between them could never go far, because he loved both dogs and kids more than he would ever love her. It would have been smart—fair—to break it off then, once and for all. But something had kept drawing him back.

  No more. “You’d better get going or Ryder will wonder what’s keeping you.”

  “You’ll wish you had come when the thermometer hits a hundred in another hour and you’re stuck here.” She was half resigned, half annoyed. “Hold tight to that mutt, will you? I’d hate to have to pepper-spray him.”

  It was a joke she’d made upon meeting Frank and repeated since. He knew she would never hurt an animal. It was a long way from not liking them to cruelty. Curling his fingers tighter around the nylon collar, he made his own usual retort. “You spray my dog, I’ll have to shoot you.”

  Her smile was smug as she pushed away from the car and headed around to the driver’s side. “You know where to find us if you change your mind.”

  He knew. He wouldn’t.

  As she backed out of the driveway, Frank looked up at him and whined. “I know, buddy,” he murmured. “I’m glad she’s gone, too.”

  As he’d told Nev, he and Kiki didn’t bring out the best in each other. Worse, his behavior seemed to get only uglier around her. He intended to work on that, since neither of them was planning to leave the police department. And he’d take Lieutenant Maricci’s advice from now on: never get involved with a fellow officer.

  Releasing Frank’s collar, he started toward the house, the dog trotting a few steps ahead of him. On the porch, Frank ran to the chair where Nev had sat, sniffing, then followed her scent to the door, pawing at it.

  “Don’t scratch my door. She’s inside, don’t worry. And try not to scare her this time. You’re a big guy. You don’t realize how scary you look from her perspective.”

  Ignoring him, Frank pawed the door again.

  Nev was sitting on the sofa, heels kicked off, feet tucked under her on the deep red leather. The hot pink of her dress was a bright splash of color in the room, like a tropical flower in a rain forest. She put down the newspaper he’d left on the coffee table and smiled as Frank went to stand in front of her. Given that she was seated and wasn’t tall to start with, she and the dog were eye-to-eye.

  “If he gets too close, use a command voice to tell him no.”

  “I don’t think I have a command voice.”

  “Use your Sunday school teacher voice when the kids are getting rowdy. He hears that one often from Granddad.” He sat down in the armchair opposite her. “Sorry about the interruption. Some of my friends are doing an impromptu party at the lake.”

  “You should have gone. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

  When she moved as if to get up, he waved her back. “I wouldn’t have gone even if you weren’t here. Besides, Granddad’s counting on you to come back and share dessert with him.”

  “He’s a sweet man. YaYa says she considered growing into a sweet old lady, but there’ll be time to be sweet when she’s dead and in heaven. Until then, she plans to speak her mind and take no prisoners.”

  “From what I hear, my grandmother would have been the same. My mama—she took after Granddad. Always caring and kind with never a bad word to say about anyone.”

  Nev’s answering smile was grim. “My mother...well, she does her best.” Frank nudged his hand into a good position for scratching, and she obliged him absently. “You said a friend of yours grew up here?”

  “Anamaria Duquesne Calloway. She didn’t live here long—a few years when she was little. Her mother died, and she went to live with her grandmother.” Not for the first time, he recognized the similarities between their pasts. His mother had died of cancer; Anamaria’s had been left to die from injuries suffered in a fall; they’d both been sent off to live with grandparents. He knew it couldn’t have been harder at the time, but once she’d grown up, once she’d understood her mother’s death for the pointless waste it was, had she mourned her more?

  Though cancer was a pointless waste, too.

  “Did she have family here? Is that why she came back?”

  He shook his head. “Just the property. Then she met Robbie Calloway. They scandalized half the town when they got married—he’s white and part of the family that owns that big old Southern plantation out on the highway—but they’ve got two kids now and couldn’t be happier.”

  Nev’s nod was thoughtful, her expression distant. What was going through her mind? If he knew her better, maybe... Nah. He knew Kiki better than just about any woman, and he never could figure out what was going on in her head.

  When his cell phone rang, he eased it from his pocket. “Hey, Granddad.”

  “Tell Miss Nevaeh that I’m slicing these pies. They sure do look good.”

  “I’ll pass on the message.”

  “By the way, that Isaacs girl came by. I saw her sitting at the end of the driveway. Then I heard Frank pitchin’ a fit.” He laughed. “I guess she found you.”

  “She did.”

  “You ain’t gonna do something foolish like start going out with her again, are you?”

  “No, Granddad.” He glanced at Nev, murmuring to Frank. “I promise. We’ll be over in a few minutes.”

  “Don’t dally. I don’t know how long I can keep my fingers out of these pies.”

  “Yeah, you’ve probably already had a taste or two. Amazing how slivers just stick to the knife when you’re cutting a pie.”

  “It surely is. You head this way, and I’ll pour the tea and milk.”

  Ty returned the phone to his pocket and then asked, “What about it, Miss Nevaeh? Think you can handle a slice or two of pie?”

  “Oh, without a problem.” She skimmed her hands over her hips as she stood and, delicately balancing, wiggled her feet into her shoes. “In fact, my inability to say no to pie has been a lifelong pleasure—or affliction, depending on your point of view. Not one bite of pie has crossed Marieka’s lips in ten years, while I can’t remember ever turning one down.”

  “Marieka doesn’t have curves, does she?”

  She reflected on that a moment. “Only the curves of muscles. She’s tall, slender, lean. Doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her.”

  “If I want to snuggle up with tall, slender, lean and fat-free, I’ve got Frank there. He’s a great snuggler. And he’ll eat a piece of pie with me.” He admonished Frank to stay and then opened the door. “Around here, we think curves are hot.”

  She flushed with pleasure as she walked through the door.

  Granddad was just seating himself at the table when they came in. He greeted them with a smile and a wave of his fork-holding hand. “I’ve resisted temptation as long as I can. Anamaria does make the best pies.”

  “All those years of working in the family
restaurant,” Ty remarked as he held Nev’s chair for her.

  “The same Anamaria who lived in your house?” Nev spread the ivory linen napkin in her lap and then accepted a dish from Granddad with healthy slices of both pies on it.

  “Yep. Prettiest little girl you ever saw, with those long curls and always running wild through the woods. She loved being on the river, going fishing or just skipping stones with Glory. That was her mama,” Granddad said for Nev’s benefit.

  Nev paused, a forkful of sweet potato pie halfway to her mouth. “You knew them?”

  “I knew everyone in the neighborhood back then. Still do. Genevieve used to say I don’t know how to mind my own business, but I figure you’ve got to know what’s going on around you. That’s how you head off trouble.”

  “That must be what I inherited from you,” Ty teased. “Not minding my own business. That’s why I became a cop.”

  Finally Nev took a bite, closed her eyes and made an mmm-mmm sound. So pretty, so full of pleasure. So sexy—and that was hard for Ty even to think while sitting at the dinner table with his grandfather. When she opened her eyes again, she said, “Oh, man. I was going to offer to put my own sweet potato pie up against this one, but, Lord, this is wonderful.”

  Granddad beamed as if he’d made it himself, but he didn’t let the opportunity pass him by. “If you don’t mind cooking on your vacation, I’d be more than happy to loan you my kitchen and share my opinion. I never miss a chance to eat someone else’s food or to spend time with a pretty woman.”

  “I would love that. I’ll see what I can surprise you with.”

  Ty could read Granddad’s satisfaction in his glance. She’s nice, pretty, goes to church, sings like an angel and cooks, too. What more could you want?

  What he wanted was to see her again. When he walked her to her car an hour later, carrying a foil-covered plate with more dessert, he said, “I offered you a tour of downtown yesterday. Want to do it tomorrow evening? Maybe after dinner?”

  “I would like that. I’m staying at the Heart of Copper Lake Motel. Room ten.”