My Funny Valentine Page 8

  Gray laughed, a bold heartfelt rumble that made Bella turn to stare at him. “Writer’s block?” He chuckled. “I don’t have writer’s block.”

  She pulled a puzzled face. “Then why aren’t you at your computer?”

  “Because I am helping you. Remember the deal we made?” he reminded. “We’ll start at three every day and I’ll work in exchange for dinner.”

  Were it possible, Bella felt even more ridiculous. Mortification congealed in her belly. She’d talked Grayson Blake—one of the world’s most well-known mystery authors—into being her handyman. For dinner, no less. She moaned again.

  “Bella?”

  She looked up. “Yes?”

  “Are you all right?”

  She smiled grimly. “I would have been a lot better if I hadn’t offered a best-selling author food in exchange for doing odd jobs for me.”

  Gray laughed. “Well, your fried chicken is pretty good. And your tea,” he added, tongue in cheek.

  “Tea?” Bella murmured, then reddened more. Oh, yeah. The iced tea she’d thrown into his face. Undoubtedly he’d gotten a pretty good taste of it.

  “Well, be that as it may. I know you need to work…and you can’t very well do that if I have you down here in home repair hell. Let’s just forget the deal, okay? I promise I won’t disturb—“

  “No-kay.”

  Bella blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  “No, it’s not okay. I want to help you,” Gray told her.

  “But surely—“

  Gray cut off another protest. “Bella, it’s not a big deal. I’d really like to help you.”

  Though the words were couched in a reassuring tone, Bella heard the underlying steeliness beneath. She wondered at it, and mentally fled the myriad of questions his insistence raised for future consideration.

  “Well, if you’re sure…”

  “I’m sure,” he said decisively. “And, Bella?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not as sure about this, but thought to warn you, anyway.”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “This.”

  Gray palmed her chin and drew her to him. The kiss was long and slow, sweet and thorough. And when it was over, Bella was hot in places that hadn’t felt warm in years, and more bewildered than ever.

  Her baffled gaze searched his. “Oh…thanks,” she murmured for lack of a better response.

  “Thanks for what? Gray asked, smiling. “The warning or the kiss?”

  “Both.”

  Chapter Ten

  Gray slowed the big convertible down to a crawl as he cruised by Bella’s house, then pulled into the drive. A pang of homecoming struck him so abruptly that he shoved the awkward feeling away and labeled it dread.

  Which was a lie, of course—dread certainly wasn’t an emotion that he could associate with seeing Bella.

  More so the opposite.

  The past couple of days spent in his gorgeous landlady’s company had been two of the most entertaining that he could recall. Bella possessed a keen sense of humor, could talk intelligently about almost any subject, in short, someone that he simply enjoyed being around. Her laugh was infections, her smile radiant and it had the most curious impact on his respiratory system—it left him breathless.

  Factor in his insane attraction to her and Gray knew that he was courting trouble. Nevertheless, it hadn’t stopped him.

  Again his gaze strayed to the house, the repaired porch specifically. The minor improvement hadn’t exactly restored the old house to its former glory…but it filled him with pride of a job well done nonetheless.

  Several other much-needed repairs he noticed came to mind, but he checked them before he could formulate a plan to see them done. He knew he wouldn’t be here long enough to get them all done and if he were honest, like Bella, this house would undoubtedly need a lifetime commitment—a commitment he was unprepared to make.

  The only lifetime commitment Gray had ever made had been to his career. With today’s technology, he could write long after his fingers were riddled with arthritis. Could write until he ran out of stories or until old age addled his brain. And, quite frankly, the prospect of losing his mind disturbed him less than running out of material.

  Gray gathered his notes from today’s research session with the men at the town square and prepared to exit the car. His mood lightened with the prospect of seeing Bella. They were scheduled to start work on the roof this afternoon. By the time he keyed everything into his computer and changed clothes, he’d be due downstairs. Knowing that Bella fully appreciated all his effort made the tiresome work worthwhile. He supposed—

  Gray’s thought stalled as an image in his rearview mirror snagged his attention. He frowned, then muttered. “What the hell…”

  A pale pink Cadillac hurtled toward his bumper at breakneck speed. Then, to Gray’s vast relief, it came to a bouncing halt just as he braced himself for imminent impact.

  A distraught woman with a towel wrapped around her head vaulted from the car, and, with a covert look in both directions, scurried nervously into Bella’s salon. Intrigued, Gray exited the car and followed in her wake.

  Curious sounds of moans, groans, and sobs reached him as he loped up the front steps. The scene that greeted him as he stepped quietly into the room was not one he would soon forget.

  The woman who’d almost bred her pink Caddy to his classic convertible had green hair. And not just any old shade of green—swamp-water green. Streaks of mascara ran down her chubby cheeks as she muttered something completely unintelligible to Bella. She dropped into the styling chair and began to fasten the cap over herself.

  Bella nodded soothingly and helped the woman with the cape. “Now, Gladys, it isn’t that bad.”

  The look on Bella’s face told Gray otherwise.

  “Oh, Bella, how can you say that? Look at me!” Gladys wailed. “My hair’s green! Green as the moss hangin’ from that tree out there. Oh, how will we ever fix it? Can you fix it?” she asked in a small voice.

  Bella picked up a section of Gladys’ hair and studied t with a critical eye. She worried her bottom lip. “How did you do this, Gladys? What sort of color did you use?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Gladys moaned sadly. “I picked up a box of hair color at the drugstore. Thought I could do it myself this time. I never dreamed—” Her voice cracked.“—that I could do this!”

  Gray decided now would be a good time to make his exit. He didn’t have any idea how long it would take Bella to right Gladys’ hair, but he suspected the hair disaster would knock a dent in their plans to fix the roof. As he was backing out the door, Bella noticed him.

  “Gray? Did you need something?”

  Gladys started and her panic-stricken gaze landed on Gray. A gurgle of a scream emerged from her throat and her hands flew to cover her mossy head. “Ugh,” she murmured miserably.

  Gray suddenly found himself as uncomfortable as Gladys. “Let me know when you’re finished down here and we’ll get started on that project.”

  At Bella’s nod, Gray made his way to his own apartment. He closed the door, then padded through the living room and settled onto his couch. The upstairs quarters were quiet—too quiet—and left him feeling both restless and dejected. The calmness of the rooms should have facilitated his ability to work, but it had the opposite effect.

  By sheer force of will, he’d gotten his required work done. It hadn’t been an easy feat and he’d spent more time counting the minutes until he and Bella started another project, than thinking about Case McCain’s next move. He was confident that the problem would resolve itself—it always did. Gray simply had to wait until the creative process took over. Then the words would pour forth from the mysterious realm of his imagination, he would dutifully key them in and the story would be told. It wasn’t a question of how but rather when. Still, the silence got to him.

  Gray had grown accustomed to hearing Ethan’s childish chatter, Bella’s laugh, the various sounds of her customers. Ju
st hearing them move around down there gave him a curious sense of comfort he didn’t understand. Lately he’d taken to leaving his upstairs door open just for that purpose. Gray plowed a hand through his hair as the silence seemed to scream around him.

  He waited a few minutes, hoping the feeling would pass.

  It didn’t.

  With a resigned breath, Gray lumbered from the couch and opened the door. Instantly the murmur of voices reached him and pushed the quiet away, bringing with it a supreme sense of reassurance. A grim smiled tiled his lips.

  The trouble didn’t lie with the silence—it was downstairs.

  ***

  Bella showed the color-corrected Gladys out, then flipped the sign to “Closed” and rested her head against the door. It had taken more than an hour and a half to re-dye Gladys’ hair from the hideous green to the Pixie Platinum she’d preferred. Bella had charged the now-repentant Gladys a sum she wouldn’t soon forget and Bella doubted Gladys would be having any more at-home hair disasters. The woman had pledged her allegiance to Bella’s skill and judgment.

  Since Gray and Bella planned to work on the roof today, Maggie had slyly volunteered to have Ethan spend the night with her. Bella had agreed because she couldn’t very well be on the roof and keep an eye on her rambunctious son. Besides, Maggie had bought a new video game and having Ethan over was always a good excuse to try out a new toy.

  “Bad day?” The familiar baritone voice sent a tingle up Bella’s spine.

  Smiling wanly, Bella turned and met Gray’s gaze.

  “Nah,” she told him. “Just a little more exciting than usual.”

  “So green hair doesn’t happen naturally?”

  Bella chuckled. “Hardly.” She shrugged. “Still, it happens.”

  Gray returned her grin. “I won’t ask how.”

  “Good plan.”

  “Speaking of plans, I assume it’s too late to start on the roof today.”

  Bella didn’t have to look at the clock to know that statement was correct. Though it was still a couple of hours before dark, she didn’t want to take any chances on not being able to finish. “Let’s postpone it until tomorrow.”

  Gray nodded. “Was there anything else that you wanted to do?”

  Worlds, Bella thought. But though she’d had a relatively light day, she couldn’t really marshal any enthusiasm for doing anything else productive today. She shook her head. “No, not really.”

  Something akin to disappointment flashed so fast in Gray’s eyes that Bella as inclined to believe she’d imagine it.

  “Do you and Ethan have any other plans for this evening?” he asked.

  Bella shook her head. “Ethan’s spending the night with Maggie.”

  “Then why don’t you let me take you to dinner?” Gray grinned irresistibly. “How does a steak sound?”

  Heavenly, Bella thought. But should she go? Well, why not? Bella couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a restaurant besides Dora’s Diner. Ethan wasn’t here and the prospect of cooking held as much appeal as having a root canal.

  “It sounds great,” Bella told him. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.”

  Any qualms Bella might have felt on her brief visit to her bedroom to get ready instantly vanished at the sight of Gray when she met him in the kitchen.

  She’d been wrong. He did own pants other than jeans.

  And they looked every bit as good on him…if not better.

  Gray wore a pair of black linen dress slacks and a navy silk shirt that would have been too much on any other man. On Gray, it was elegant.

  The pants hugged his narrow waist and the shirt caressed the powerful contours of his chest in a way that was oddly more erotic than seeing him in the buff. He’d traded the diamond stud in his earlobe for a small hoop, giving him a pirate-like quality. His black hair hung unhindered to his shoulders, and Bella didn’t think she’d ever seen a more gorgeous man.

  Desired curled deep within her, hinting at sinful pleasures she’d love to explore.

  With him.

  Gray’s lingering gaze swept over Bella’s own body with the same intense scrutiny, making her glad he’d taken a little more care to what she’d decided to wear tonight.

  The gauzy sundress floated over her curves and moved gently with her as she walked. Tiny embroidered daisies adorned the gossamer fabric here and there. The dress made Bella feel both utterly feminine and daringly sexy. Judging by the way Gray’s light green eyes had darkened, he found her attire every bit as appealing.

  “You look lovely,” he told her, his voice suddenly husky.

  Bella lowered her lashes. “Thanks. So do you.”

  "Damn,” Gray winced, rocking back on his heels. “Lovely wasn’t exactly the look I was going for.”

  Bella chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

  “Shall we go?”

  Within minutes, they were on the highway to Jackson. The sun-warmed leather seat was soft and comfortable, making Bella instantly relax. Gray had put an old Otis Redding tape in the outdated eight-track player, filling the car and wind with hauntingly poignant sounds of the great rhythm-and-blues singer. The wind blew through Bella’s hair, caressed her face and made her feel increasingly alive. She had the almost overwhelming urge to laugh giddily, but curbed the impulse and settled for a contented smile.

  Seemingly sensing her happiness, Gray gave her a brief look. “Great, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “Cruisin’ with the top down.”

  Laughing, Bella nodded. “It’s very…liberating. Beats the heck out of riding in my little compact, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ve meant to speak to you about that. That automobile is a sin against the car gods.”

  “Oh?” Bella queried.

  “Yeah. It’s not a car—it’s a tuna can. You need something that will survive a crash. Something bigger.”

  “Now, see,” Bella said, turning towards him. “That’s just like a man. Men think bigger is better.”

  Gray quirked a brow and gave her a sexy smile. “When is bigger not better?”

  Bella swallowed nervously and blushed to the roots of her hair. She forcibly kept her gaze from straying to the impressive bulge in his pants she’d noticed on occasion. “I happen to like my car,” she managed at last. “It handles well.”

  Gray gave her another of those searching looks. “Good handling is important to you?”

  Bella’s mouth went dry. How on earth did he manage to load so much innuendo into such an innocent comment?

  “Yeah,” Bella told him, deciding to be a little wicked. “I want a car that responds immediately to my demands. My…touch at the wheel.”

  An answering gleam lit Gray’s eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Mmm—hmm,” Bella concurred. “Oh, and a good smooth ride is important to me, too.” She sighed deeply. “Comfort and satisfaction.”

  A half laugh, half strangled sound erupted from Gray’s throat. “I couldn’t agree more. Still, you sacrifice leg room in a little car like that. There’s a lot to be said for a spacious interior. Take my backseat for instance. I’ve pulled over after a long hard ride and slept back there.”

  Bella’s gaze strayed to the backseat and a vision of herself sprawled beneath Gray on the roomy bench seat instantly appeared. Warmth pooled between her legs and she felt her pulse beat in her most private place. Desire thrummed through every vein in her body. She was hit with a crazy longing to tell Gray to pull his lust-mobile off the road and find a secluded spot.

  But she couldn’t do that, of course.

  “I guess having a land yacht like this would have certain advantages,” she conceded at last, praying that Gray would stop this sexy word play and give her a chance to pull herself together. Sexual hunger both gnawed at and frustrated her. She’d never desired anyone so much in her life.

  He didn’t give her a chance to pull herself together. Instead he said, “I’ll show you one advantage.”

  Then he pulled off the
highway into a deep, shady picnic area and shifted into park. Bella knew before he turned to her what he planned to do, and slip across the seat to meet him halfway.

  His lips met hers with a feverish intensity. His hot tongue delved into her mouth, drawing a moan from deep in her throat. His warm hands skimmed beneath her hair and angled her to him, leaving Bella weak with want. Her own hands strayed to his luxuriant hair and strong jaw. Bella traced the outline of his face with the tips of her fingers, relishing the feeling of silky skin and strong bone.

  Bella felt the strap of her dress slip down her shoulder…and then gray’s heated palm cupped her bare breast. Her nipple pearled. A breath shuddered out of her lungs as an exquisite pleasure calmed her. It had been so long. So long.

  Vaguely Bella noted that the sun was slipping away, bringing darkness. The cover of night made her all the more reckless. She wanted this forbidden pleasure. Good sense had been burned away by the heat of Gray’s touch.

  Suddenly headlights swung into their little cove. Bella’s thoughts fragmented. Gray hissed a curse under his breath and helped Bella right her clothes.

  To her utter mortification, it was a police cruiser. Her first date in three years and she’d been caught necking on the side of the road. A sickening feeling whirled in her stomach as she shrunk with embarrassment into her seat as the officer approached.

  He frowned at Bella, then asked, “Are you Joan Will?”

  Bella frowned. The officer was looking for a woman named Joan Will? She didn’t know much at this point, but she still knew her own name. She shook her head.

  The officer glared at Gray as though he were lower than pond scum, then told him in no uncertain terms to exit the car. Gray gave Bella stupefied, incredulous look. “Bella,” Gray hissed quietly. “What are you doing? I’m not forcing you,” he told her from the side of his mouth as he moved to comply with the peace officer’s command.

  “Get outta the car, pervert!” the officer commanded again. He reached for his gun. “Attempted rape is a serious crime.”

  Attempted rape? Bella thought wildly. Oh, my God! What was the man talking about? Slack-jawed, Bella leaned forward in her seat. Her heart stopped and dread squeezed her chest. “I’m sorry. I—I must have misunderstood your question.” She squinted in confusion. “Wh—what did you say again?”