A Marriage Made in Texas (The Brothers Kincaid) (2 page)

“W
HAT’S WRONG WITH A PARTY
at Princess Pizza, I’d like to know?” Gail muttered while standing on the white Formica drainboard in her kitchen. Last year, nothing else would do for Mel but to have the party at the pizza place. This year she’d cried when Gail had mentioned it. She wanted the party at her house. Stretching, Gail taped another piece of bright pink crepe paper in place. Oh, well, what mattered was that her daughter was happy, not whether the kids turned the house into a shambles.

Still, it would have been nice to have the mess someplace besides her house. Gail glanced out the window and squinted. Rain. Definitely, rain. Which meant they’d have to hold the entire party inside. Her head pounded thinking about it.

Leaning back, she tried to judge what the decorations looked like. Of course, pink and purple, Mel’s favorite colors, didn’t look so hot next to Gail’s bright red kitchen cabinets, but that couldn’t be helped. Mel wouldn’t notice the colors clashed. There was room for more balloons, but her jaws were aching.

Someone knocked on the kitchen door. “Come in,” she called.
It’s about time Cam showed up.
Her
brother had promised to come by and help her decorate, and though he sometimes ran late, he was usually pretty dependable.

She heard the door open and before he could speak she said, “Where the heck have you been? Twenty giggling little girls are coming over in two hours.” Steamed, she continued. “Never mind, just hand me that purple streamer there on the table.”

“Here you go,” an unexpected voice said as a hand reached up with the streamer.

Her head whipped round and she looked down into Jay Kincaid’s dazzling green eyes. Straight, dark-blond hair fell over his forehead, a dimple winked in one lean cheek, and that lethal weapon smile of his was out in full, blinding force. He looked even better than he had the last time she’d seen him.

Damn, isn’t this just my luck?
She wore her oldest cut-offs, an ancient blue T-shirt with an unraveled hem, and she’d bet her next commission that she hadn’t managed to brush her hair this morning. And unlike Meg Ryan, she didn’t look good with messy hair.

It occurred to her she probably looked like a guppy staring at him with her mouth hanging open, so she snapped it shut. “Jay? What are you doing here?”

“I came bearing gifts,” he said, nodding toward the kitchen table where a plastic cake holder sat. “Cat was afraid hurricane Max would demolish the birthday cake, so she and Mark drafted me into cake delivery.”

“When did you get into town?”

“Last night.” His gaze seemed to slide up her body.

Was he staring at her legs? It was hard to tell, from her angle above him, but since they were at his eye level, she thought he might be. At least she’d shaved her legs the night before.

Not that it mattered, she reminded herself. He’s a man. Of course he’s going to look at a woman’s legs, especially when they’re right in his face. Even if he wasn’t particularly interested in said woman.

“So, what else can I do to help?”

Turning around, Gail taped the streamer, then walked down the counter to tape the other end. “Nothing.” She leaned back again and surveyed the job. It needed something. “Unless you want to blow up a couple of balloons.”

“My brother Brian always said I was full of hot air.” He picked up a balloon and started blowing.

Over her shoulder, she watched him. “Don’t you have anything better to do than help me decorate for an eight-year-old’s birthday party?”

He handed her the balloon, lips twitching as he picked up another. “Nope.”

“Thanks. And thanks for bringing the cake.”

He gave her the last balloon and watched as she taped it in place. “Mel’s eight? How is that possible? Jeez, talk about making me feel old.”

“Try being her mother,” she said as she turned around. “Roxy’s ten.”

“No way. Your kids can’t possibly be that old.”

Golden tongue, she thought. He sounded so sincere. “Too true. If you move, I’ll get down.”

He looked up at her and grinned. “Don’t do that on my account. From this angle your legs look about a mile long.”

“As lines go,” she said, taking the hand he held up and hopping down, “that was pretty weak.” He released her hand, but not before she felt an odd little tingle.
Get a grip,
she lectured herself.

He shrugged and tucked his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. “I’m out of practice.”

No way could she pass that up. She tapped a finger to her cheek and looked up into his face. “Funny, I hear tell you’re footloose and fancy-free again. I would have thought you’d be practicing up a storm.”

“Hey, it takes a while to get back into circulation.” He leaned closer and his voice dropped. “Could be I need some help.”

Their eyes met and she saw the laughter in his. “Try the Internet,” Gail said. “I hear you can find anything on the World Wide Web.”

He gave a shout of laughter and she found herself chuckling in response. One of the things she’d always liked about Jay was that he didn’t take himself too seriously.

“Actually,” he said after a moment, “I do need some help. And I think you’re just the woman for the job.”

Tilting her head, she considered him. “Uh-huh. How’s that?”

“I need a real estate agent.”

“Jay, I’m a commercial Realtor in Corpus Christi. I don’t know the market here.” Not that there was a market to speak of in Aransas City, anyway. Which was one reason she worked in Corpus.

“Come on, Gail, have mercy. Did you know Max gets up at 6:00 a.m.?” He shoved a hand through his hair and shuddered. “And Mark says that’s every day. You have to take pity on me. I’m a desperate man. I need a place of my own.”

He attempted to look miserable, but failed. The man had too much charm to look woeful for long.

“Poor baby,” she said. She could do it, of course. Why was she hesitating?

Because he’s too damn tempting, that’s why,
she told herself. And she didn’t intend to get into another situation that led to rejection. She’d had plenty of rejection in her life—just look at her marriage. Nevertheless, she said, “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. When do you want to go?”

“Today’s obviously out. What about tomorrow?”

“Fine. I’ll get Mom to take the girls.” She pulled a notepad and pen from a drawer and gave it to him. “Give me a price range and an idea of what you’re looking for.”

“Great.” He flashed her another killer smile. “I really appreciate it. You’re saving my life.”

“That’s what they all say.” She sighed as she watched him, extremely conscious that he stood close to her, that he smelled good and looked even better. Jay still fascinated her every bit as much as he had the first time she’d met him.
Any sane, single woman
would be attracted,
she consoled herself.
You’d have to be dead not to be.
A good thing she had too much sense to ever think anything could come of it.

He handed her the paper, keeping hold of her hand when he did. “It’s good to see you again, Gail.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” she said, and meant it. But she still wondered just exactly what she was getting into.

G
AIL PULLED THE VAN TO A HALT
by the curb. Jay looked out the window at the fifth house of the afternoon, and his mood nosedived to his toes. “Well, the outside sucks.” He saw no reason to sugarcoat his reaction. Gail had eyes, too.

“It’s listed as a fixer-upper,” Gail said, her tone doubtful.

He followed her up the broken concrete walkway, admiring the fact that her white sleeveless summer suit with its short skirt showed off her legs. Very nice, shapely legs. She probably imagined she looked businesslike, and she did. But Jay found himself imagining what was under that suit.

Opening the lockbox hanging on the doorknob, she withdrew the key. It took her a minute to get the key to work, but she finally did.

She pushed open the door, and tried the lights as Jay walked in behind her. “No electricity,” she said, as he looked around in the gloom. “I’ll open the curtains.”

Light—even the murky dimness provided by the natural light filtering through dirty windowpanes—
didn’t improve the place any. The carpet was red shag, the entryway wallpaper gold with white flocked designs. He’d bet a thousand bucks it hadn’t been updated since it was built. They went into the kitchen, which boasted ancient appliances and cabinet doors listing from the hinges. The house had a musty, nasty smell to it, as if the owners had cooked liver and onions too many times without ever airing it out. No, not food… It was more like…something dead?

“What is that smell?” Jay asked, sniffing the air.

“I have no idea.” Gail cast a worried glance around. “It’s been unoccupied for some time. I think the owner died and the bank took it over.”

Depressed, he looked around as well. “Died, huh? What did they do, forget to bury the poor sucker?”

Gail stifled a giggle. “I’m sorry, Jay. You never can tell. Sometimes you get a real bargain with a fixer-upper.” She opened a closet door and jumped back, swearing as a shelf came crashing down inches from her toes.

“I think we can cross this one off,” Jay said. “I’d like something habitable, at least. I don’t mind fixing a few things, but I’m not that skilled in construction.”

“Are you sure you won’t consider an apartment? There just aren’t that many houses available in the price range you gave me.”

“I can go up, if I have to.” He didn’t want to, since he had no idea what kind of money he’d be making, and wouldn’t for some time. But he had to have a decent place to live, and he needed it ASAP.
“Let’s get out of here, and we’ll talk about it. This place is making me suicidal.”

At Gail’s van, Jay stuffed his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts and squinted in the bright sunlight as Gail pulled out another flyer.

He looked back at the house and grimaced. Five houses so far, and he hadn’t liked any of them. He didn’t think he was being too picky. He wanted a decent sized house, in a decent neighborhood, for a decent price, and not a falling-apart ticket to disaster. So far, only one had come close, and while it hadn’t been a mess, at best it was dull.

“I know you’re against it, but I really think an apartment might be your best bet. At least until something you like better comes up,” Gail said.

Frowning, he glanced at her. “I don’t want to live in an apartment. I’ve spent the past twelve years in an apartment. I want a house. With a yard for my dogs.”

Her eyebrow lifted in surprise. “I didn’t know you had dogs. Where are they?”

He lifted a shoulder, aware he was being unreasonable, but he didn’t care at that point. “I don’t have any. Yet. But I’m getting them, as soon as I have a place to live.”

Propping her hands on her hips, Gail tilted her head and considered him. “You’re buying a house because of a dog—
dogs
—you don’t even have?”

“No, I’m buying a house—or I would if I could find one—because I’m sick and tired of apartment living. I didn’t move to Texas to live in another damn
sterile apartment complex. And I’m getting dogs—puppies—because I don’t want to live alone. I like dogs, and I’ve wanted some for a long time now.”

Gail gazed at him a moment, then heaved a deep sigh and muttered, “Puppies. Oh, Lord.” She jerked her head at the car. “Get in. There’s one house we haven’t looked at yet.”

She handed him the last flyer to read on the way over. A short time later, she pulled up in front of a cream brick, one-story house. Huge oleander bushes grew in the front, sporting flowers of brilliant pink. A live oak tree, bent from the prevailing winds, occupied a large spot in the green St. Augustine grass. A couple of bougainvillea, in shades of scarlet, flanked the front door.

They got out of the van and stood looking at it. “Nice. I like it already.” He cocked his head at Gail. “Why didn’t you show me this one first?”

“Notice the location?”

He grinned, and nodded. “Two doors down from yours. Trying to keep the riffraff out of the neighborhood, Gail?”

“Very funny.” She shot him a dark glance. “You know that’s not it.” A faint flush rose in her cheeks. “What would you have thought if I’d showed you this one first?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He glanced at it again, then back to her. “That you’d found me a nice house?”

“Ha.” She propped her hands on her hips. “You’d have thought I was making a move.”

“Are you?” he couldn’t help asking.

Instead of backing down, she lifted her chin and asked, “What would you do if I did?”

A little surprised, he stared at her. “What would I do if you made a move on me?” A smile tugged at his mouth. “Why don’t we try it and see?”

She laughed. “Sorry, that was a rhetorical question. Come on, let’s go see the inside.”

“All right. I want to get this settled today, if I can.”

“You know, most people want to think about it a while, once they see a house they like.”

“They don’t have my time constraints. I want to be moved in and settled as soon as possible. Tim wants to open the clinic next week, so the sooner I get this done, the better.”

“You’re talking as if you’ve decided, and you haven’t even seen the interior yet.”

“I’m waiting on my beautiful real estate agent to show me,” he said, as straight-faced as he could be.

They entered and walked through the empty rooms slowly. By the time they reached the master bedroom, he knew he wanted it.

Pale blue walls rose above a lush, thick beige carpet. Glass-paned French doors opened into a fenced back yard. Another live oak shaded part of it, and a large palm tree graced one corner. Several beds were planted with a variety of flowering plants. Plenty big enough for a couple of dogs, he thought.

“Okay, let’s do it. Can you write up the offer now?”

Gail stared at him for a minute. “Are you sure? Don’t you even want to think about it overnight?”

“Nope. I’m used to making quick decisions. I like the house. It’s going to suit me just fine.”

Clearly baffled, she shook her head. “All right. I’ll go get the papers.”

He took her arm, detaining her before she could leave the room. “Are you all right with this? With me moving in here, I mean?”