“This place is great!” Jeff enthused as he took in the modern finishes in the kitchen and downstairs bath. He peered out the back door at the yard and made a few notes. He snapped a few pictures, then turned back toward the living room. “Three bedrooms, right?”

  “Yeah, and two baths,” Sam offered. Maddie followed slowly as Jeff sprinted up the stairs.

  He glanced in the bathroom, nodded happily and scribbled in his notebook when Sam pointed out the laundry closet, then threw open the bedroom door nearest the bathroom.

  Maddie hung back nervously. The room contained nothing but stacks of boxes. There were two large windows covered with curtains that, if she remembered correctly, would let in tons of great light. She couldn’t help thinking the room would make a fantastic studio. It definitely had more potential than the cluttered corner of the small, dark, ten-by-ten bedroom in her apartment currently serving as both her living and workspace. Holding her breath, she reluctantly followed the men to the next room.

  Her father’s room was the same nondescript and typically masculine space it had always been. The furniture was old, the same suite her parents purchased when they first got married, and she remembered it well. There were boxes piled in this room, too, and Jeff made the observation that the house would show much better if the cartons were stashed out of sight. Maddie sighed. She knew she’d have to go through them eventually, but didn’t relish the prospect. Maybe she could move everything into the attic for the time being? She followed the men back out of the room. The tour concluded in the front bedroom. Hers. Her emotions had been up and down like a roller coaster all day, and if her reaction to the back yard was any indication, she was pretty sure she wasn’t ready to see it again for the first time in years with witnesses present. She hung back in the hallway, ignoring Sam’s questioning gaze. The click of a door suggested the agent was checking out the closet space. He emerged back into the hallway and jotted down a few more notes before they all headed back downstairs.

  “Great view of the yard from that window,” he observed. “Too bad there isn’t an attached bath to make it a true master, but that’s not uncommon in these older homes. Unfinished concrete basement, right?” Maddie turned to Sam, who nodded and took the lead as they headed back down to the kitchen and continued into the basement.

  Jeff Hagen immediately noticed the narrow basement windows were propped open a crack and a dehumidifier hummed in the corner.

  “The basement floods?” He cocked a knowing brow in Sam’s direction.

  “Not unless we get several days of heavy rain, but it does stay pretty damp down here,” Sam confirmed.

  “Well, with the high water table in this area, it’s a common enough problem but certainly not a deal breaker. Just better to have all the facts in the interest of full disclosure. Don’t want the buyer coming back at us later claiming we tried to misrepresent anything.” Jeff took a few measurements, checked the condition of the furnace and the metal doors covering the concrete steps of the walk-out leading to the back yard, and then waved them toward the stairs to indicate he was finished.

  “Okay, that should do it.” Jeff smiled after confirming there was also an unfinished walkup attic and writing down Maddie’s name and phone number. He pulled a sheaf of papers from his clipboard and scribbled down a figure. He held it under Maddie’s nose, and Sam leaned over her shoulder to take a look. “Based on comparables, I think this is a fair asking price. I can tell you while this is a great place, it’s probably been over-improved for the neighborhood, and you won’t get as much for it as you would if it was out by the lake. I still think we should be able to get top dollar. Just leave everything to me.”

  “Um, okay?” Hagen’s slick salesmanship rubbed her the wrong way, but Sam seemed to think he was the man for the job, and what did she know about real estate?

  Sam shrugged noncommittally. “Seems like a fair price.”

  “Okay, then! If we’re all in agreement, I took the liberty of preparing the contracts in advance.” He tugged yet more papers from the pile. “All I need to do is plug in the price and you can sign on the dotted line. Why don’t you read through them while I grab a sign and a lock-box from the car?”

  He placed the paperwork on the kitchen table and headed for the front door. Maddie collapsed on a chair and pulled the contracts toward her. She looked at Sam uncertainly. It was all happening so fast. But wasn’t that exactly what she’d wanted when she arrived?

  “He doesn’t waste any time, does he? What do you think?”

  “If you want to sell, I think Jeff’s the guy who can get it done. Your house, your call.”

  Maddie stared at the paperwork and drummed her fingers on the table. Finally, she grabbed the pen and scribbled her signature on the contract before she had a chance to change her mind. Sam simply turned and walked over to stare out the back door without comment.

  She heard Jeff on the front porch and gathered the papers into a neat pile. She carried them into the parlor, and after a slight hesitation, Sam followed. Jeff held a small box in his hands and, through the open front door, Maddie could see he’d also taken the liberty of planting a For Sale sign in the front yard. Yep, he definitely rubbed her the wrong way, but at least he seemed like a go-getter.

  She handed the papers to Jeff, who glanced down and then favored her with a smile.

  “Excellent! Sam wasn’t sure how long you planned to stay, but that’s not a problem. If we find a buyer in the meantime, we’ll negotiate a closing date that suits you. Now all I need is an extra house key for the lock-box so when we put the house on the multi-list service the other agents have access to show the place.”

  Maddie turned to Sam again. Before she could ask, he fished a key ring from his pocket and worked one free, tossing it to Jeff.

  “I didn’t mean for you to give him your key,” Maddie protested.

  Sam lifted a shoulder. “I still have mine. Not that I’ll need it, now you’re home. That’s your dad’s. Yours is an extra the lawyer had made.”

  “Oh.”

  Jeff Hagen punched a code into a small electronic device to open the box and drop the key inside. He bent and secured it to the knob of the front door, and turned back with a grin.

  “Okay, all set.”

  “Thanks for coming out, Jeff.” Sam moved toward the front door and stuck out a hand. It was a clear dismissal. “Will you be at the game next week?”

  “Hey, no problem, man.” Jeff took the hand and hesitated near the door. “Not sure. I have an open house over in Greeley. Depends on what time I get everything wrapped up. May have to quit the league altogether. Seems like it gets harder and harder to make the games. People work all week, they want their agent available on the weekends.”

  “Yeah, I guess they would. Well, thanks again.” Sam put a hand on the man’s shoulder, and Maddie could have sworn he gave Jeff a slight shove toward the door.

  “Nice meeting you, Madigan.” Jeff waved cheerily as he stumbled over the doorjamb onto the porch. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thank you,” Maddie responded politely. Sam waited until Jeff slid behind the wheel of the low-slung speed machine and revved the engine, then turned back to Maddie with a faint frown.

  “Ready?”

  “Just let me grab my phone.” Maddie went into the kitchen and grabbed the phone from the counter where she’d left it to charge. Glancing down at the display, she frowned. Three missed calls, all from the same number. Ian Sutherland’s number. She deleted them and shoved the phone in her pocket. Then she hurried back to the living room, and Sam.

  He held the door and waited while she locked it. Her eyes widened as she spotted the car, and when she reached it, he held the door for her again. She climbed in with a grin.

  “He’s a little, um, enthusiastic, huh?”

  “He’s downright overbearing,” Sam agreed. “But he has the best sales record of anyone I know. Nothing but the best for you, kid.”

  “I see that.” She patted the dashboard of the vintage black Mustang and smiled at him as he folded his long length into the driver’s seat. “I can’t believe you still have her, although I must say, she looks a hell of a lot better in paint than she ever did in that awful gray primer.”

  “Yeah, well…I usually drive the truck, but I figured you might like to get out of the vehicle as clean as you were when you got in it.”

  “Well, since I brought a very limited wardrobe, I appreciate it.” She cleared her throat. “So what are you doing with yourself these days?”

  “Puttering,” he replied. He glanced over and waggled his brows like a movie villain. “I always was good with my hands.”

  “Another of your impossible to resist pick-up lines?” She laughed.

  “Well, that depends. Is it working?”

  “Not yet,” she retorted. “But don’t let it keep you from trying. So, where do you find the time? I mean, being a corporate big wig must be pretty time consuming all by itself.”

  “I imagine it would be.” Sam shrugged and seemed suddenly very interested in the road.

  “Would be? You didn’t like being a vice president?”

  “What?”

  “Barstow Enterprises…You didn’t like working for your father?”

  “Hell, Maddie, I never intended to work for my father. You knew that.” His brows drew together in a dark frown.

  “But your father…” His father had insisted that going into the family business was exactly what Sam would do. He also made it crystal clear she was nothing more than a lapse in judgment. His son would never throw away his future for a teenage infatuation with the daughter of a blue collar drunk, no matter what Sam might have told her.

  “My father is an arrogant bully who couldn’t conceive his son wouldn’t do exactly what he wanted him to do,” Sam replied in a clipped tone. “He still can’t.”

  “So then what did you do…after I left?” Her voice came out in a strangled whisper, and she coughed hard to clear the uncomfortable tightness from her throat.

  “Did a stint in the service, then went to school for law enforcement, exactly as I’d planned. Worked a couple years in executive protection,” he responded in a curt tone that didn’t exactly invite further discussion.

  “Executive protection?” She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the fact it just hit home that Sam apparently hadn’t lied to her, but his father sure as hell had. Whatever the reason, his career choice struck her as incredibly funny. “I’m sorry, that sounds like a particularly exclusive brand of condoms.”

  Sam glanced over at her and then back at the road. The corners of his lips twitched.

  “Not exactly,” he said at last.

  “Okay, so what is it…exactly?”

  “Personal security. Witness protection. That kind of thing.”

  “Oh, you mean like a bodyguard or something?”

  “Yeah, like a bodyguard or something.”

  “So, you’re between jobs at the moment, or what?” She was astute enough to sense his reluctance to elaborate, but suddenly she needed to know. All these years she’d been convinced she’d made the right decision for everyone when she walked away. Though, the more he talked, the clearer it became there was every possibility she’d let Edward Barstow induce her to do exactly the wrong thing, while persuading her she was doing it for all the right reasons.

  “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” Sam slowed the car and his eyes narrowed as he scanned the street. “Retired, actually.”

  “Aren’t you a little young to be collecting Social Security?”

  “Some things age you a hell of a lot faster than others,” he replied quietly.

  ****

  Sam expertly maneuvered into a parking space in front of Caroline’s. He turned off the ignition, heaved a deep sigh, and turned to face her. Now she would ask what happened. People always did. And if she asked, he decided he would tell her because she’d had little enough reason to trust people in her life and he found that for a man who’d been prepared to dislike her on sight, he wanted her to trust him. Pointless, since once she learned the whole truth, she would probably run from him as far and as fast as she could. Her opinion hadn’t mattered to him much when he still believed she was nothing but a shallow bitch, yet he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling maybe he’d had her all wrong, maybe he’d missed something. Sam’s jaw was clenched so tightly it ached, and he made a conscious effort to relax when he realized his shoulders were hunched nearly to his ears.

  “Bummer,” she said simply.

  “What?” He blinked, nonplussed.

  “I said that’s a bummer.” She shrugged. “You ended up doing what you wanted to do, and then it didn’t turn out the way you hoped.”

  “You aren’t even curious?” He couldn’t believe she was letting him off the hook so easily. He also couldn’t believe he was looking a gift horse in the mouth and belaboring the point. If he had half a brain, he’d shut the hell up and let it go.

  “Well, sure I’m curious.” She shrugged again. “C’mon, who understands better than me there are some things that aren’t so easy to talk about? Do you think I just open my mouth and tell everyone I meet about my life? If you want to tell me, tell me. If you don’t, that’s your prerogative. It’s not as if you owe me an explanation. In fact, it’s not as if you owe me anything. But do you think can you decide over lunch? I’m starving.”

  She raised her brows, then waggled them just as he had.

  Every good intention of keeping his distance suddenly evaporated. Unable to resist, Sam impulsively leaned over and cupped his fingers around her nape, pulling her across the seat and settling his mouth on hers. She initially stiffened in surprise, then relaxed and opened her lips willingly when his tongue tentatively traced the seam of hers seeking entry. He knew he’d regret it later. She would probably read something into it. He ignored the little voice in his head asking him what the hell he was doing and concentrated instead on the feel of her soft, pliable lips under his, the faint lemony scent of her hair, and the soft brush of her fingertips as she reached a hand to trace it along his jaw. Damn, she tasted even better than he remembered. She scooted closer, leaning over the console, and he deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers, repeatedly, until both of them were breathing raggedly, and he knew it would be at least a few minutes before he could comfortably and modestly climb from the car. He pulled back reluctantly when it finally dawned on him that they were parked in front of the busiest diner in town at lunchtime, necking like the two horny teenagers they used to be. Talk about a memory ghost. What in the hell was he thinking? He hadn’t intended for a simple kiss to go so far. In fact, he hadn’t even intended a simple kiss. Damn.

  “Maybe I’ve been going about things all wrong.” Maddie slowly sat back against her own seat, watching him with a bemused expression that didn’t completely obliterate the hint of wariness in her eyes.

  “What?”

  “Well, usually when I meet an attractive man, I dazzle him with my wit and baffle him with my brilliance.” She chuckled. “Yeah, that doesn’t usually work out so well. Who knew the secret all along was to conk him over the head with a lamp and threaten him with a hammer?”

  Sam blinked, then threw back his head in a long, full-throated laugh. He’d happily take a baseball bat to his head to kiss her like that again and see that slumberous promise in her eyes. Shit, he was in so much trouble.

  “C’mon, woman, I promised you lunch.”

  “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, mister. I haven’t had anything except soup and crackers since yesterday morning,” she retorted, yanking the door handle and climbing out before he could come around to open the door. “And I always did have a healthy appetite.”

  Chapter Four

  Maddie snorted when her feet struck the pavement and she had to grab onto the door for support. Good Lord, the man could still kiss. If he could make her weak at the knees with a kiss, what could he do if he got a few other body parts involved? She shouldn’t even be thinking about it. She wouldn’t be here very long, and it would just further complicate things. Then again, they both knew she would be leaving so there was no chance of anything but a casual fling, right? Of course, she and Sam had never been casual, at least on her part, no matter what she’d tried to sell herself on the bus out of town. She’d been on the Bad Boyfriend Tour ever since. At least she knew Sam Barstow might be worth the high price of a ticket.

  “Did you just snort?” he called across the hood, narrowing his eyes.

  “Don’t be silly, Sam. A lady never snorts.” She circled the car and linked her arm through his as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He stiffened but didn’t pull away.

  “Hmm, well I think I recognize a snort when I hear one. I bet you snore, too.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she retorted.

  “I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He frowned and tugged her toward the door.

  The diner was crowded when they entered. Maddie hadn’t come here often, but it hadn’t changed much from what she remembered. In fact, she suspected it hadn’t changed much since it opened fifty years ago. A long bar with red vinyl stools ran the length of one wall, facing the tall, wooden booths lining the opposite side of the long, narrow room. Lighted cases of chrome and glass held an assortment of decadent desserts. Down the center of the floor stood a double row of square tables covered with red-checkered tablecloths and crammed with people. The ceiling was made of painted tin panels and dotted with wobbly, overworked ceiling fans turning in crooked circles. The wood plank floors were scuffed and worn and had seen better days. Actually, the entire place looked as though it had seen better days, but everything was scrupulously clean and Maddie figured the crush of people and the mouthwatering aromas were a testament to the food quality.

  As they stood in the doorway, people waved to Sam and called out over the din of conversation and clinking cutlery. He nodded back with a smile, but stayed glued to Maddie’s side. Several people craned their necks to stare at Maddie with an undisguised curiosity that made her palms sweat and her stomach churn, but she didn’t see anyone she recognized. A group stood to exit a booth near the back, and Sam quickly steered Maddie toward it with a hand on her back. She slid into the red vinyl bench seat on the side facing away from the rest of the diners, and Sam slid into the other. A middle-aged waitress with an outrageous shade of yellow hair, bundled haphazardly into a hair net, hurriedly waddled toward them with a gray plastic bin tucked under one arm. Her uniform matched her hair, and her eyes were heavily shadowed in a shocking blue. Her bright red lipstick extended at least a quarter inch beyond her lip line giving her a garish, clown-like appearance. She chomped a wad of gum to the beat of her footsteps, and her bulbous plastic earrings bobbed along with the rhythm of her jaw.