was kind of dark. They’d left the outside porch light on for him and when he went inside he found Dr. and Mrs. Grant were curled up together watching a movie. Peyton instantly put the movie on pause, flicked on the table lamp and sat up straight. “You’re back,” she said.
“I’m back.”
“Did you have a nice dinner?”
“I had a very nice dinner,” Matt said. “Have you ever tried the Cajun ahi at Cliff’s? Because it’s really good.”
“I meant with Ginger!”
“Did you realize that she’s Ginger Dysart of Dysart Trucking?”
“Who’s that?”
“The trucking company we use to take our crops to market. The company we rent our flatbeds from to take Christmas trees to market.”
“Huh. I didn’t realize.”
“You could’ve told me she was recovering from a divorce, just like me. I might’ve understood why you were acting so protective of her.”
“Well, it was a bit more than that. She told you about the baby?”
“What baby?”
Peyton sighed as if trapped. “Well, everyone knows. It’s been easier for her, really, since everyone knows and no one asks. She got pregnant and her husband left her, I don’t know the details. She said he didn’t want children. He wanted to devote his time to his career. So he left her.”
“Where’s the baby?” Matt asked with a sinking feeling.
“She moved back with her parents, had her baby as a single mother, and he died of SIDS at four months. That was almost a year ago. She’s just coming back to life.”
Matt thought he might throw up. “God.”
“She’s doing well now, considering. But you can see why I didn’t want you to be your tomcat self around her.”
“For the last time, I’m not a tomcat,” he said.
But he was. And he was damn lucky he hadn’t offended Ginger for the second time because he found her very attractive. Very desirable.
But now, knowing what he knew, he was going to get out of town and get back to Portland tomorrow. He’d make some excuse. He wasn’t staying the weekend, after all.
Three
G race walked around the great room of the new house. It was freshly painted. She hoped her mother would approve of the colors she’d chosen—ivory with dark brown accents in the great room. Taupe with just a touch of mauve in it, dark accents, ivory ceiling in the master bedroom. It was restful, she thought. On Monday they would install the kitchen cupboards and light fixtures and continue work on the shower in the master bath. The thing she thought was the smartest and most practical—a curved glass cinder block wall rather than a shower door for accessibility and also for the elegant design—that was taking the longest. Workers had spent days on that one small project.
Troy was taking advantage of a warm sunny Saturday with only a light breeze rather than strong winds off the Pacific to seal the deck and steps to the beach. The sealer dried so quickly he was already on the second coat and it was early in the afternoon. Sealer had been sprayed on the underside of the deck before Troy brushed on the topside. Spencer, their next-door neighbor and Troy’s colleague at the high school, was at work on the steps—fourteen from the deck to the lower level, fourteen from the lower level to the beach. The main level of the houses was thirty feet above the beach.
She found herself standing just inside the great room doors watching Troy. His jeans were ripped at the knees and he wore a T-shirt with the sleeves torn off, exposing those biceps and forearms she loved so much. The jeans fit perfectly on his booty. He wore a cap to cut down on the glare, but he yanked it off regularly to wipe the sweat from his brow. He was just as sexy sweaty as he was all primped up.
He caught her staring and shot her that dazzling smile of his. “What are you looking at, little mama?”
“Dinner, I think.” And then she bit her lip.
There would be enough to do to keep them busy for quite a while, but she thought she could get her