Lois Richer

Inner Harbor


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My mom—” He stopped, gulped hard but stoically continued, a sheen of fresh tears glossing his eyes. “Remember, Annie? Mom was allergic, so I couldn’t have any animals at our place.”

      Russ cleared his throat. Annie ignored him. She was going to have to eat crow. She didn’t need him to rub it in.

      Drew had lost everything. His little world had shifted, changed irrevocably when he’d lost his parents. She had a business to run, but was that a good enough reason to deny Drew the comfort of an overfed orange feline? No. She was all for anything that would make Drew’s life a little happier. Wasn’t that what parenting was all about?

      “You can’t deny the kid a cat,” Russ whispered in her ear, satisfaction resonating through his rumbling voice. “Marmalade is here to stay.”

      But you aren’t, she thought, twisting to look into his silvery eyes. You won’t be staying here long.

      She’d known him only a short while, talked to him for less than an hour, but she knew a lot about Russ Mitchard. And somehow she just knew that settling down wasn’t in Russ’s long-term plans. She had a hunch from something Mr. Willoughby had once said that as soon as Russ had his business running smoothly, he’d be off searching for greener pastures. Wasn’t that what had worried his grandfather so much—the fear that R.J. was running away from life?

      Still, as long as he was a guest at her bed-and-breakfast, she’d have to face him every day, be civil. Probably even explain repeatedly that there was no hope of him marrying her. The thought of that daily contact left her both wary and excited.

      Why was that?

      Annie was afraid she was going to find out.

      Chapter Three

      “She’s a big old girl, isn’t she?” Drew tenderly swiped his hand down the cat’s sleek back. “She purrs louder than a bullfrog.”

      He laid his head on the floor beside the cat and closed his eyes, listening for the rumble of contentment.

      “You’re my bestest friend, Marmalade.”

      Russ had to look away or bawl. Drew reminded him so much of Adam, the Adam he remembered—before the accident, the one that had claimed his brother’s life. If only he’d taken his responsibility to Adam as seriously as Drew took his toward that cat.

      “I made hot chocolate. That should tide you over till dinner. I’m afraid I got a little behind today.” Annie stood in front of him, her blue eyes bright with the frustration of his presence here.

      Russ grinned. At least she wasn’t indifferent to him. A marriage of convenience would be difficult enough. A marriage of indifference would be intolerable. Strangely, he understood Annie’s discomfiture around him, even felt the same way. She kept him on his toes, slightly off center. He never knew exactly how she’d react. She certainly wasn’t like any other female he’d ever met. For one thing, she always spoke the truth, no matter what. It didn’t do a thing for his ego, but he found her bluntness refreshing, just the same.

      “Are you going to take this mug or not?” she muttered just low enough so Drew wouldn’t hear.

      Clearly she wasn’t thrilled that he’d become more than simply a guest.

      “I’m going to take it. Thank you.” He peered at the peppermint in it, then glanced at her. “What about Drew?”

      “I already drank some juice. I gave Marm some milk.” Drew turned to the cat. “She likes milk.”

      “Thank you for taking care of her.” The boy’s attentiveness surprised Russ. At that age, he’d had a lot of pets. Had he ever been so careful of them? Maybe that’s when this problem with responsibility had begun.

      Annie seated herself away from Russ, in the big brown armchair by the fire. It was a deliberate move, distancing him. Russ knew he was supposed to take note of that. Which he did, with a smile at her prim face. Then he promptly shifted seats so he lounged across from her. Keeping up with Annie was like playing chess. He adored chess. Gramps had taught him the game years ago. Check, Annie Simmons.

      He lifted the red and white striped peppermint stick. A drop of chocolate dangled on the end. Russ licked it off. The chocolate flavor blossomed on his tongue, made richer by the hint of mint. He caught her stare.

      “I had some peppermint sticks left over after Christmas. No point in throwing them out.” Her eyes glittered defensively.

      “None whatsoever,” he agreed, leaning back to savor the atmosphere she’d created. “It’s excellent. So is this room.”

      The soft glow of firelight on the oak paneling and the comfy furniture set around the fireplace gave the room a well-lived feel. Annie, having started dinner, had changed from her jeans into a long velvet jumper the exact color of her eyes. Her hair glowed silver in the firelight. She was very much lady of the manor.

      Taken as a whole, this was a picture-perfect example of home. The air was redolent with the succulent aroma of beef stew, fresh rolls and something with cinnamon that Russ prayed was apple pie. The flames, the quiet peace, all of it combined to relax the visitor. She’d achieved her aim and then some.

      At the moment Annie ignored him, the same way she’d tried to ignore him most of the afternoon while he’d settled into his room, gone back and forth to his shop and taken Marmalade out for a walk with Drew. Russ stifled a chuckle at the way she tilted her nose in the air and focused her attention on the ceiling to avoid looking at him.

      “Something smells very good. I hope my staying for dinner isn’t an intrusion.” He paused deliberately, found himself waiting for her comeback with anticipation. Their verbal sparring intrigued him.

      “This is a bed-and-breakfast.” She deliberately emphasized the last word. “We don’t serve dinner to our guests.”

      He could almost hear her thoughts. Check that, R.J. Annie Simmons was looking at him, maybe not the way he wanted, but at least she wasn’t ignoring him. He studied her in return. Marrying her wouldn’t be any hardship. She was gorgeous. But Russ knew his grandfather had seen more than that in her. Gramps was a stickler for inner beauty, the character inside a person no one could see, which spilled out in the tough times.

      “I realize you don’t usually serve dinner. But Drew invited me.” He hid his smile when she glared at the un-suspecting boy. “I could hardly refuse when he said you always made way too much and if I stayed, maybe he wouldn’t have to eat leftovers.”

      “Remind me to speak to you later, Drew,” she muttered, lips pinched in pretended annoyance. But the gentle glow on her face gave her away.

      “Okay, Annie.” The boy returned to ignoring them both, his voice barely audible as he hovered over Marmalade. “You’re so pretty, Marm.”

      “Did you think about—” Russ glanced at Drew, then straight at Annie “—um, what we spoke about earlier. Have you decided?”

      “Drew, honey, I think maybe you should take Marmalade for another walk before dinner.” Annie’s eyes warned Russ to hush. “Just outside by the bushes, okay? Don’t go too far. Dinner will be ready soon.”

      “Okay, Annie. Come on, Marm.” Drew jumped up, snapped the cat into her leash and headed toward the door. A second later they heard it thud closed.

      “I decided right after you asked me, Russ. I gave you my answer then. It’s still no. That isn’t going to change. I’m not the marrying type.” She leaned forward, her voice low, eyes flashing a warning. “According to what your grandfather told me about you, neither are you.”

      “No, actually I wouldn’t be interested in marriage at all—under normal circumstances.” Boy, was that the truth. He caught her glint of irritation and rephrased what he’d been about to say. “Though I think I could be quite good at marriage.” That didn’t sound right. Russ tried again. “Not that I was suggesting anything permanent between us.” Clear that up right now,