Forever Hers Page 4

  Damned burglars. They’d better not come back again.

  Amy was sweeping the patio again when Lauren came up behind her and grabbed her arm. “We need to talk.”

  “What’s going on?” Amy asked.

  “Inside,” Lauren whispered. As soon as they closed the door behind them, she gave Amy a conspirator’s grin. “So?”

  Amy cocked her brow. “What?”

  “Eddie is single.”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “I know.”

  “And gorgeous.”

  “Uh, if you like the type.”

  Lauren laughed. “Type?”

  Amy grinned, remembering their conversation. “Silent, intense, everything and everyone in its place.”

  “You got all that in…what? A few hours?”

  Amy shrugged.

  “So you’re not interested in a little holiday fling?”

  The thought of her with Eddie Fitzgerald was…mind boggling. “No. Way. I have enough to deal with without taking that on. Besides, I’ll be lucky if he spends time in the same room with us. Raelynn won’t even meet him.”

  “Poor darling. It can’t be easy for her. Was she like that with Baron?”

  “Yeah, but having Kara made a difference. Anyway, I have an idea on how to fix things. It will depend on Eddie, and whether or not he’s good with children.”

  “I hope he is. I offered to show him around,” Lauren said, a sheepish expression on her face.

  Amy couldn’t explain the sudden hollow feeling in her stomach. “And?”

  “He took my card and said he’ll call.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Amy said weakly.

  Lauren grinned. “We’ll see. Later.”

  Amy walked her to the door, waved as she walked away, and then she went in search of Raelynn.

  ***

  Eddie was aware of being watched. He wasn’t sure whether it was Amy, the daughter or the realtor. He couldn’t believe the woman wanted to sell him a home. He should have told her he wasn’t interested instead of taking her card and agreeing to see a few local listings. He wasn’t into remote getaways like his cousins. He belonged in L.A., putting bad guys behind bars.

  Eddie finished with the motor and sat back. The sun was high in the sky and even though he was under the canopy, he was hot, sweaty and thirsty. At least he knew exactly what the engine needed, which meant a trip to a supply store.

  Footsteps on the dock drew his attention. Amy walked toward him carrying a tray with a pitcher and a glass. Her daughter stayed behind her, so all Eddie saw was a yellow lifejacket and green shorts and curly blonde hair. Usually kids adored him, if nieces and nephew counted, but this one…he sensed her fear. Of him or men in general, he didn’t know. By the time they reached him, he had pulled his shirt back on and was ready to charm her.

  “We thought you might be thirsty,” Amy said.

  “Thanks.” He didn’t get up even when she placed the tray on the boat. His position meant he was eye-level with her daughter, who wrapped an arm around her mother’s leg and peered at him, a thumb in her mouth. He pretended not to notice her scrutiny.

  “So what’s the verdict?” Amy asked, one hand on her hip, the other going to her daughter’s head.

  “The propeller, the oil filter and a few worn out bolts need to be replaced. The oil needs changing too. I’ll drive out to Sandpoint and pick up parts later today or tomorrow.”

  “That’s good. Do you want to take a break and have a freshly squeezed glass of lemonade chilled to perfection?”

  The glass and the pitcher had cute little red and yellow flowers, and he imagined putting smudges all over them. “I think I’ll wash my hands before I touch anything.”

  “Oh we don’t mind, do we, sweetheart?” Raelynn didn’t respond, but Amy appeared not to notice. She kept her daughter in their conversation as she sat on the nearest beach chair. There were several of them, even one smaller, but Raelynn didn’t sit. Instead, she stay glued to her mother’s side, thumb still in her mouth, eyes on him. “Besides, there’s nothing on this boat that can clean him up, is there?”

  Raelynn shook her head.

  “There you have it, Fitzgerald. You are officially the messiest mechanic we’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m not.” He wiped his fingers across his forehead and a giggle came from the child.

  “You just made your face worse,” Amy said.

  He’d gotten a giggle, and that was what mattered. He wiped his nose, deliberately adding more smudges. “Is that better?”

  More giggles from Raelynn, the thumb slipping out of her mouth.

  “I think you forgot your cheek,” Amy said, catching on.

  “Where?”

  “Right there.” Amy leaned forward to touch his face.

  He leaned back. There was no way he was letting her touch him. He’d made the mistake of letting her touch him earlier and filed it under ‘never to be repeated.’ The woman screwed with his head enough without adding physical contact.

  “I got it.” He pretended to clean his cheeks, deliberately smearing them with black, oily goo, then made eye contact with Raelynn, who was giggling uncontrollably.

  She was a beautiful child. She might not look like Amy now, but anyone could tell they were related. They had the same brilliant blue eyes and stubborn tilt of their chins.

  As though aware of his scrutiny, Raelynn slid her thumb back into her mouth and hid behind her mother’s chair. After a few seconds, she peeked at him. Eddie didn’t smile, but he and the little girl stared at each other. He had no idea what was going in her head, but at least she wasn’t screaming.

  “I think I’ll have some lemonade now,” he said, keeping his voice neutral.

  “Would you like to meet the person who made it? All I did was cut the lemons.” She glanced over her shoulder though she didn’t try to urge her daughter to come out of her hiding place. “Well, sweetheart?”

  Raelynn shook her head, her curls bouncing.

  Amy smiled and touched her daughter’s cheek, then gave Eddie an apologetic little smile. “I guess she’s not ready to play.”

  “Maybe the lemonade connoisseur doesn’t like greasy hands,” Eddie added, wiping his hand on his shirt.

  “Eew,” Raelynn managed to say around her thumb, but she still didn’t move from behind his mother’s chair.

  Eddie chuckled.

  Amy shook her head at his antics, then poured him some lemonade. Their fingers touched as she passed him the glass and they both froze. The smile she gave him was tinged with a hint of mischief, as if she knew the effect she had on him. Or maybe it was all in his head.

  “Thanks for this,” Eddie mumbled, raising the glass.

  “No problem. We drink a lot of lemonade around here.” Her voice was husky, low and hesitant as though her mind was elsewhere, then she glanced at the dark smudges he’d left on her hand.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to make your hand dirty,” he said.

  Amy shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

  He sipped his lemonade, savoring the tartness. It wasn’t too sweet, just like he liked it. He drained the glass then grinned at Raelynn, who hadn’t moved from behind her mother.

  “That was very good lemonade. Can I have more, please?” His eyes met Amy’s and the smile on her lush lips suddenly disappeared. It was as though a door slammed between them.

  Not sure what just happened, he focused on her little girl, who tugged her mother’s arm. Amy added more lemonade in his glass, placed the pitcher back on the tray and rubbed her hands on her shorts. Eddie didn’t know what he’d said or done to make her have that ready-to-bolt look on her face.

  “We’ll leave the pitcher. Uh, we’re planning on going grocery shopping this afternoon, so if you need anything other than what we discussed earlier, I’ll pick them up too.”

  “Sure.” He studied her and wondered why she couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Alright then,” she said, turning away and reaching for her daughter’s hand. “Come on, swe
etie. Sand-o-ville needs new roads and buildings.”

  Eddie watched mother and daughter walk away, their conversation punctuated by Raelynn’s giggles. He had no idea what Sand-o-ville was, but the little girl appeared to have ideas on how to make it beautiful.

  “What is lemonade con…con…?” he heard Raelynn ask when they stopped by the sandpit.

  “Connoisseur,” Amy finished. “It means someone who makes the best lemonade and that’s what you are—lemonade connoisseur.”

  She removed her daughter’s life vest then the little girl squatted and started shoving sand with a small, blue plastic shovel. Amy glanced back at him and gave him a smile he couldn’t define. Again, he wondered what the heck had happened. One minute he was connecting with her daughter, then next she couldn’t wait to put some distance between them.

  A dark-haired boy around Raelynn’s age came running from the neighboring house to the right and joined them. Most of the houses weren’t fenced or separated by any visible vegetation, and the lawns overlapped. He would have to ask her how far to mow.

  “Ahoy, Jimmy,” Amy called out, drawing Eddie’s attention.

  “Can I play with Raelynn, Mrs. Franklin?”

  Mrs. Franklin? Was that her married name? She laughed, the sound both sweet and sexy.

  “Of course you can,” she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “You know you never have to ask.”

  “Mom said when you have guests, I shouldn’t bother you,” the boy said, already digging in the sand.

  “I’m sure Mr. Fitzgerald won’t mind having a few children around now and then.” Amy didn’t look his way as he spoke.

  He minded. Winning over one little girl was all he could deal with now. Dealing with a bunch of them was not part of his vacation plans. As though on cue, a second boy with a shock of red hair, this one taller than Raelynn, ran from the house on the other side and joined the group in the sandpit. Three. How many more? Do they also spend time inside the house?

  Eddie lifted the glass to his lips and drained the lemonade, his gaze on Amy as she walked toward the house. In the age when women starved themselves to stay thin, she embraced her curves with pride. Her walk, a slow roll of hips as though to draw attention to them, was both sexy and confident. His traitorous body responded.

  Great things come in small packages. A bit of a cliché, but Amy embodied it. She was every man’s dream wrapped in skimpy cut-offs and a tank top. What did she do for a living?

  From his cousin’s conversation, it was something he wouldn’t like. From the way she’d held the gun and the flashlight, she could be a cop. Maybe she was undercover. He wouldn’t object to that. He would even help her nab the burglar robbing the homes along the lake.

  No, she couldn’t be a cop. No sane policewoman, or policeman, would go undercover with their own child. What if she was the burglar? Eddie chuckled at the thought. He could smell a con artist a mile away. Amy’s direct gaze said she was honest, and the way she jumped on any topic without weighing the consequences indicated she was impulsive and without guile.

  So how did she earn her living?

  He’d noticed a desktop computer on a table in the living room and a laptop on the coffee table. Maybe she did something online. Telemarketing? Gambling? None were illegal. Could she be in the online adult entertainment business? That was also perfectly within the law. He wasn’t old fashioned, despite her belief. If a woman wanted to make a living by removing her clothes and remotely fulfilling men’s fantasies, it was their business. She had the body, the face and a mouth that inspired fantasies. He reigned in his.

  Cursing, Eddie put the glass down, pulled off his shirt and jeans. In his swim trunks, he walked to the end of the pier and dove in. A swim would cool his blood. Maybe make him rational.

  Thirty minutes of attacking water brought him no closer to feeling better. He was lusting after a woman he barely knew. He pulled himself up the ladder, forked fingers through his hair and looked toward the house. Amy was inside somewhere. The thought filled him with anticipation he couldn’t explain. He squashed it.

  Raelynn and her admirers were busy doing their sand thing. Having them so close to the water bothered him. Being a cop, he tended to see safety concerns an average person missed or ignored. There was a pole by the pier with life jackets for kids and adults. A few donut-like flotation water toys were also looped on another pole.

  With the kids’ high-pitched chatter in the background, Eddie finished reassembling the engine. He replaced the manual in the storage box, grabbed his shirt, jeans and the tray with the empty pitcher and glass, and started for the house. The kids were creating trenches and sand hills, but from the sounds of things, Raelynn was in charge.

  “The river goes that way,” the little girl said as he approached them.

  “But rivers flow downhill,” one of the boys said. “My mommy said so.”

  “Well, my mommy said Sand-o-ville is my town, so I make the rules,” Raelynn said and cocked her head. “I say the river goes that way.”

  Eddie grinned when the boys gave in. Smart move. Never argue with a woman who’s made up her mind about something. The grin disappeared as he debated his next move. It wasn’t his place to talk to these kids about safety around water, yet the cop in him couldn’t leave it alone.

  “Hey,” he said, squatting at the end of the sand mound.

  Three sets of eyes looked at him. Raelynn’s were wary, the boys’ curious.

  “Are you done with the boat, Mister Fizz,” the dark-haired boy said, the one Amy had called Jimmy.

  “I told you not to call him Mr. Fizz. His name is Mr. Eddie,” Raelynn corrected her friend in a stage whisper.

  “I’m almost done, Jimmy. I need to get parts first.”

  “How do you know his name?” Raelynn asked, forgetting to be shy.

  “Because I…am a magician. Let me see.” Eddie pressed his fingers to his temple and squinted at Raelynn. “Your name is…rrr…Rae…Raelynn.”

  The boys laughed, but Raelynn studied him suspiciously.

  “What is his name?” she pointed at the red-headed boy.

  Eddie closed his eyes and hummed. He opened an eye to study his captivated audience, closed it then opened the other. “I see it now. His name begins with an S. Sssssaaaam. Sam.”

  “That’s right. My name is Sam.”

  “What other tricks do you know, Mr. Eddie?” Jimmy asked.

  “A lot. You know what else is magical?” Eddie continued. “Life jackets. Like those ones over there.” He nodded toward the pole. “They stop you from drowning.”

  “They are not magical,” Raelynn corrected him with an eye roll. “They are filled with foam that floats in the water, so it makes you float too. Mommy said I cannot go on the pier or in the water without wearing one. That’s why I play right here. I don’t like wearing them.”

  “Your mom is one smart lady, Raelynn. You should always listen to her.”

  “I know. And she has X-ray vision too. She can see me even when she’s not here.”

  “My mom has invisible eyes in the back of her head,” Jimmy added.

  “Mine too,” Sam said.

  Eddie was still laughing when he entered the house. Kids could be so rational one minute then do an about face and say something totally illogical the next. Amy wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen, which was spotless. He followed some noises, curiosity turning into something else when he walked into his bedroom and found her seated on his bed, a pillow in her arms.

  CHAPTER 4

  “What are you doing?”

  Amy looked up, her heart skipping. For such a large man, he was sure soft-footed.

  “Making your bed.” She fluffed the last pillow and placed it against the headboard then reached for a second pillow case.

  “No.” Eddie entered the room, his gaze sweeping the room. He frowned at his jeans and shirt, folded and placed on the bench at the foot of the bed. “No making my bed, Amy. And absolutely no picking up after me.”

&n
bsp; “I stripped the beds after your aunt and her friends left but forgot to replace the sheets and pillow cases. How could you sleep on this with only one blanket?”

  “I was too tired to care. Come on.” He removed the pillow from her hand, then placed a hand on her back and nudged her toward the door. “Go. I’ll finish in here. I told you I was capable of taking care of myself.”

  “Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell me twice.” She could feel the warmth from his hands on her shoulders. It spread, making her feel deliciously warm. Think of something mundane, Amy. Lauren. Your best friend. She wants him. The thought killed her libido faster than a dunk in ice-cold water. “I saw you talking to the kids.”

  “Yeah, I acquired a fan, and it wasn’t Raelynn. She is one smart little girl.”

  “I wish I could take all the credit. She can also be very stubborn.”

  “So can I. What are we having for lunch?”

  He was hungry already? She looked at her watch. It was a little after ten. “Uh, I hadn’t thought about it. Soup and sandwiches.”

  He cocked his brow. “Tofu?”

  “Ha…ha, ha. I happen to have oven-roasted chicken breast cold cuts and turkey bologna.” She wagged her finger in his face. “No snarky comments about my bologna. Lunch is hours away, so if you want to eat something now, I’ll show you where I stash the snacks.”

  “Like what?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Pita chips and humus.” He tried to keep his face straight, but she saw his grimace. “Chocolate chip cookies? Tortillas and salsa?”

  “Now you’re talking my language.” His lips curled up, gray eyes twinkling. “I’ll be out after a shower.”

  Amy stared at him with wide eyes. That smile, phew. Shaking her head, she headed toward the kitchen, aware he was watching her from the doorway. She didn’t look back. There was no reason to. No matter how charming and attractive he was, nothing would come from dwelling on it.

  Right away, she noticed the tray. How courteous of him. She rinsed the pitcher and glass then started on a smoothie, using frozen fruit and plain yogurt. Pouring it in four cups, she added straws, placed them on the tray and took them outside.