Feeding the Fire (10 page)

“I know, but it’s not about the gifts, it’s about the time. I promise I won’t waste a bunch of money on inflated gestures like giant boxes of chocolate or stuffed bears. Nothing cheesy. But I am going to take you out to a nice dinner with wine and good conversation. And for dessert . . . well, let’s just say I intend to have the bed in this room and ready to be used by then.”

Pepper twisted her lips into a smile. As much as she despised the commercial holiday, she had to admit it sounded nice after a week of working so hard on the house. The only worry was how public it would be. Once they stepped out together for the holiday, there would be no hiding that they were . . . whatever they were. Then again, the town already knew she bought him for Valentine’s Day. There would probably be more talk if she
didn’t
go out with him.

“Just you and me at a relaxing dinner? No paintbrushes and no hammers?”

“Not a one. Maybe a screwdriver, but the kind with orange juice and vodka.”

“Okay,” she relented, trying to ignore the surge of girlish excitement that was tingling in her spine. She could feel herself getting sucked into whatever this was. “But let’s not go to all the trouble of the fancy date you offered in the auction program. Let’s just do something simple in town.”

“I’ll see if I can get reservations at Whittaker’s. It’s a little late for that, but otherwise, it’s you and me at Pizza Palace.”

Pepper didn’t care. “That’s fine with me. I’ll whoop you at Skee-Ball.”

“Skee-Ball, huh? I’m pretty good, myself. But I am not getting you a Valentine’s gift I bought with game tickets, for the record.”

“Why not? You’ve already done more than enough for me. Even with the four thousand dollars I’d saved up, I don’t think I would’ve gotten as much labor done. The floors, the window . . .” She gestured toward her brand-new, operational, and not-drafty window beside them.

Grant turned toward it, and then jerked away from her. “What the hell?”

Pepper stepped back, looking in the direction of whatever had caught Grant’s attention. It was just the bedroom window. He rushed over to it, throwing open the new pane and crawling through it, only to tear off across her neighbor’s front yard after something.

She quickly closed and locked the window and about ten minutes later, there was a knock at her front door. Pepper opened it to find Grant standing on her porch. He was bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as his chest rose and fell rapidly with his ragged breathing.

“What is it?” Pepper asked. “What did you see?”

“The damn peeper!” he shouted angrily between breaths.

Pepper stepped back to let him inside, and he immediately reached for his cell phone on the table. She stood silent as he called the police station and reported her second run-in with the notorious Rosewood Peeping Tom.

“Simon is on his way,” Grant said as he hung up. “I almost had him.” He shook his head in dismay. “I chased him through the elementary school playground and across the park, but I lost him in the cemetery.”

Pepper slipped an arm around his waist and hugged him. “You tried. I didn’t even see him there.”

“I barely saw him. I only saw a face highlighted just barely from the lights, but it turned so quickly, I didn’t get any features. He was white and wearing dark clothing, but that’s about it.”

“That window has been covered with a tarp for months to try and keep my power bills down. We fixed it today. Today! What are the odds that the peeper just lucked across that window the first night they could see into it?”

Pepper watched Grant’s face draw down into a frown of thought. “You’re right. That’s too coincidental. Who knows what we were working on today?”

“Everyone at the house today, of course,” Pepper said. “I might’ve mentioned it when I went out to pick up pizza. I was chatting with Pat Kincaid at the Piggly Wiggly when I went in to get drinks and plates. Then, coincidentally, I ran into his wife Jeanette on my way to the Pizza Palace. She was jogging by and stopped to say hello. We talked a little about the work I was having done. She said they were needing to have some updates done to their house, too. That’s about it. I didn’t notice anyone around to overhear the discussion, but I suppose it could’ve happened. Did you tell anyone?”

Grant shrugged. “The guys at the firehouse, Travis’s brother who gave us the window and the drywall, but he lives in Trussville. I might have mentioned it to Blake, but it certainly wasn’t him. With Ivy in town, he’s barely left the house except to go to teach.”

That didn’t leave many suspects. “If it wasn’t one of the guys from the firehouse—”

“And it wasn’t,” Grant insisted.

“Then all I can think of is that the peeper lives somewhere nearby and saw us working. If they lived on the next street back, they could see the light coming through the window.”

There was a loud, official-sounding rap at the front door. “That must be Simon.”

Pepper paused as she opened the door. The last time Simon had come to the house, after her first peeper incident, she’d spoken to him on the porch. This time, her house was still in shambles, but she’d already let everyone else in. At least this time, she could use the excuse of renovation for why her house was a mess.

Gripping the knob, she opened the door. Simon was standing there, looking very much like an officer of the law. He was similar in height and build to Grant, although a touch leaner. The Kevlar vest, uniform, and coat he was wearing made him look bulkier, but she knew beneath that was a twenty-two-year-old kid with a loaded gun and a thirty-two-inch waist.

Even the gun couldn’t make Simon look menacing. He had the handsome, boy-next-door good looks that all the Chamberlain boys had, although facially, he took a little more after Helen than Norman. He had the blue eyes that all the boys were known for, but he had higher cheekbones, a narrower nose, and his hair was a slightly lighter brown than the other kids.

“Good evening, Miss Anthony.”

“Hi, Simon.” Pepper opened the door and stepped back. “Come on in.”

Simon came in, eyeing his brother, who was sitting in a chair in the corner. Pepper brought another chair from the kitchen into the living room. “I’m sorry everything is torn apart right now. Have a seat.”

Simon sat down and pulled out his notebook. “The dispatcher said you saw someone looking in the window.”

“Yes,” Grant said. “We’d just finished installing a new one in the bedroom today. It had been covered up prior to that. When I turned and looked, there was a face in the window for just a fraction of a second. I have no idea how long he was watching us.”

Simon hesitated, biting his lower lip anxiously before he spoke. “Were the two of you doing anything worth watching?”

Grant perked up in his chair. “What does that matter?”

“Don’t get defensive. We’re trying to establish a pattern and determine what it is he’s watching for. Most reports have been of women home alone doing everyday things. This is the first report we’ve gotten where there was a man in the house, too. That changes things.”

“I was in there alone at first,” Pepper said. “I was sweeping up the last of the dust. Grant came in behind me. It’s possible the peeper started watching me when I was alone and stayed when . . .”

An uncomfortable flush rose to Simon’s cheeks and Pepper felt exactly the same way. “Kissing,” she said. “We were just kissing. Nothing scandalous.”

Simon sighed in relief and made another note. “Grant, could you make anything out about the prowler?”

“He was wearing dark clothing. He was Caucasian. That’s about it. I climbed out the window and chased after him. Whoever it is, they’re pretty quick on their feet. They had a good head start on me, but I’m certain this was no old man. I lost him around the graveyard and came back to make sure Pepper was okay.”

Simon kept writing, making notes of everything Grant said. “Can I get an imprint of your shoes?” he said at last.

“Yeah,” Grant said. “Why?”

“Well, I’m going to go around the side of the house and see if there are more footprints. One was left at another house, so I’m hopeful there will be another that matches, so we can tie the incidents together. Having your imprint will help us eliminate your shoes from any I find out there.”

Pepper listened to the brothers talking, but she found she didn’t have much else to say on the matter. She hadn’t seen the peeper this time. All she knew was that she had been targeted twice by this pervert. Her house was in better shape than it had ever been and she was so close to making it the home she’d always dreamed of.

But how could she ever feel comfortable or safe knowing that guy was still out there?

Chapter Nine

“Have you always had that dress?”

Pepper looked down at the outfit she’d selected for their Valentine’s Day date and frowned. “Well, I’ve had it for a year or so. Why? Is something wrong with it?”

Grant looked her up and down with a desire surging through his veins. He suddenly felt too warm and the collar of his shirt was suddenly too tight. “Oh, no. Everything about that dress is very, very right. I just wanted to know how long I’ve missed out on seeing you wear it. You should wear that dress every day.”

She smiled and did a little spin in her entryway. The bright red dress was a bold contrast to her creamy, pale skin. The dress was fitted and fell just short of her knees. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline that exposed her delicate collarbones and the full swell of her breasts. The silky red fabric had a layer of matching red lace over the top and a belt with a large red rhinestone daisy that highlighted her tiny waist.

“I think it’s a little much for the Piggly Wiggly,” she said. “Especially with these uncomfortable red satin pumps.”

They might be painful, but they were hot. He didn’t even know how she could walk in heels like those. “No worries. They make your legs look amazing. I guarantee you that any red-blooded man who sees you in that dress will gladly carry you wherever you need to go.” Grant pulled out the small bouquet of roses he had hidden behind his back and offered them to her. “These are for you.”

Pepper accepted the bundle of peach-and-pink roses and brought them to her nose. They were exactly like the rose he’d given her after the auction, although he was certain she’d been too spun up that night to remember that.

“You weren’t supposed to buy me anything,” she argued.

Grant shrugged. “Force of habit. Besides, those roses remind me of you.”

She looked down with uncertainty at the pale peachy flowers with the pink edges on the petals. “I’m not sure how, but thank you. Let me put them in a vase.”

Turning on her heels, she walked back into her kitchen. From his vantage point in the doorway, he could see her open a couple of cabinets, then finally settle on putting the flowers into a plastic drinking cup filled with water. It did the job tonight but Grant made a mental note to bring her flowers in a vase so she would have one for future flowers.

That was interesting, he thought. He intended to buy her more flowers. That meant more dates. That was a pretty serious thought to just leap into his head.

The thoughts disappeared as Pepper walked back to the front door with her purse clutched under her arm. With every step, the red lace seemed to creep higher up her legs. It would be either completely impossible, or just vulgar, for her to ride his Harley in that dress.

She noticed Grant watching her every step. “What is it?” she asked.

“I was just thinking about how grateful I am that Whittaker’s is right across the street.”

“Why, so we can run home when we’re done eating and have sex?”

Grant chuckled. “That’s not a bad idea. But no, I was just trying to figure out how you’d get onto the back of my motorcycle in that dress.”

That made her smile. “For future reference, if you intend to take me anywhere on the back of your bike, I require either advanced warning or the ability to change my outfit before we leave. Otherwise . . . we’re driving my SUV.”

“Fair enough.”

Pepper locked her front door and they strolled together to Whittaker’s. The restaurant was the best Rosewood had to offer. It was the only place for thirty miles that had tablecloths and multiple forks at the place settings. For some reason, his mother seemed to find value in that. On the days Grant hopped on his bike and rode wherever the highway led him, he’d come across plenty of holes-in-the-wall with amazing food. No tablecloths, but amazing food.

Whittaker’s was nice enough. It was decorated with dark wood paneling and the tables and booths were upholstered in a deep burgundy leather with brass brads. There was a fireplace roaring in the center of the restaurant, and a far wall behind the bar was covered with their massive wine collection. At the moment, the restaurant and lobby were packed with wall-to-wall people.

They checked in at the hostess stand and were escorted to a private table for two just a few moments later.

“And you thought you couldn’t score a reservation that late,” Pepper noted as they walked through the restaurant.

“Well, it’s obnoxious, I know, but my last name does tend to open doors. Especially since the owners are friends with my parents.”

“Ahh . . .” Pepper said, taking her seat and letting Grant push in her chair. “So this is what it’s like to be a Chamberlain, huh?”

He shrugged. “It’s all I know, so I can’t really compare it to anything else.”

“It’s different for others,” she said. “I assure you.”

The waiter arrived, taking their drink orders and telling them about the special prix fixe menu they were offering for the holiday. Grant ordered them a bottle of a recommended wine for the meal. The waiter returned only a moment later, pouring him a small amount for his approval, then pouring them both a healthy goblet of pinot noir. They made their dinner selections and the server disappeared to fetch their first course.

“So, do you bring girls here often?” she asked as she sipped her wine.

“Actually, no.” Grant had been to the restaurant several times with family, but he had to admit this was the first time he’d ever brought a date there. “You’re the first.”

“I feel so special,” she said with a smile that betrayed her amusement. “I bet potentially running into your family can cramp your style.”

“It certainly does. I usually take my ladies out of town. But you requested we keep it local, so here we are.”

Pepper looked around the restaurant. “I don’t see any Chamberlains, so I think we’re safe. For now, at least. You never know when more of you will start pouring out of the woodwork.”

Grant noted a tone in her voice as she spoke about his family. When she’d first rebuffed his advances years ago, he had thought at first it was about him. He was too young, too annoying, too short. But getting older, smoother, and taller hadn’t helped, either. Over the years, he’d started to wonder if it had anything to do with him at all. Pepper’s resistance seemed to have more to do with his name than anything else. And it wasn’t just her. Her mother always gave him the stink eye at the counter when he took his car in to be serviced. Her brother had made his distaste for the family perfectly clear when he stopped him outside the dry cleaner’s.

“Can I ask you a question? It’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time.”

Pepper took a sip of her wine and nodded. “Okay.”

“This is awkward for a date, and I apologize, but why does your family seem to hate my family? I mean, I don’t think it goes both ways like a Hatfield and McCoy–type rivalry. I actually don’t recall your family ever being a topic of conversation or gossip at my house aside from the time Logan tried to break Blake’s nose in high school.”

“He didn’t try. He succeeded,” she said, almost proud of her brother’s achievement of rearranging Blake’s face.

“Okay, yes, Logan broke Blake’s nose. But I don’t even know what started that fight. Blake never wanted to talk about it and Dad shut the whole thing down pretty quickly. Did my family do something to yours? If one of us did, I have no idea what was done. Is it something I can fix or just the general stuck-up attitude that rubs people the wrong way? I know sometimes I don’t like Maddie at all, but we’re not all like her.”

At last, Pepper shook her head. “No, it’s not something you can fix, not really. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what happened between our families, either, but it happened long before you or I ever came along.”

Grant sighed and reached for his wine. His father. That wasn’t a surprise. He could easily see the man doing something to alienate Pepper’s family. As the only lawyer in town, he could’ve helped someone swindle them out of an inheritance with a legal loophole, kept someone from being prosecuted, gotten someone prosecuted unfairly . . . and then, the inevitable sex thing. Norman Chamberlain’s penis was probably the front- runner of causing strife between their families.

“The way my mom talks about your family,” Pepper said, “I get the impression she either dated your dad, or a friend of hers did and it ended badly. That and the fact that your family seemed to get everything hers never did. She raised my brother and me to be suspicious of the whole family. The way she saw things, the Chamberlains suffered no consequences for their actions and cared about no one but themselves. She’d always warned me to stay away from the wicked Chamberlain boys. Apparently you’re just going to use me for sex and cast me aside.”

Grant’s eyes widened slightly, although he shouldn’t be surprised, if his father was involved. His own reputation probably hadn’t helped the matter, but he was always up front with women, so they shouldn’t feel chewed up and spit out when he was done with them. He certainly hadn’t cast aside Pepper, and he didn’t want to—a thought that scared the crap out of him.

“Well, no one sent me that memo, so I’m sorry to disappoint your mother and be a nice guy.”

“You know, you’d think she’d be more disappointed to be proven right than wrong. For my sake, at least. But she’d probably get some kind of satisfaction from you using me.”

“So what changed your mind?”

Pepper’s brow went up. “About what?”

“About me.”

“Who says that I’ve changed my mind?” she asked with a coy smile. “If you’ll recall, I only got roped into this whole scenario because I had a serious financial investment in it.”

Grant wanted to call bullshit on her. She was acting far too casual about the last week and they both knew that wasn’t true. Did acting like it was nothing make it easier when it turned into nothing? Probably. “Your financial investment has nothing to do with what happened on that kitchen floor.”

Her eyes widened and she started stuttering. “W-well, yes. I mean, th-that was just a onetime thing. Close quarters can make people do crazy things. Now that the house is nearly finished and Valentine’s Day is upon us . . . who knows what will happen? Maybe nothing.”

Grant leaned across the table and pinned her with his gaze. “Pepper,” he said in a low voice, “what do you want to happen?”

Pepper sucked in a ragged breath, her shiny red-painted lips parting softly. A flush rose to her cheeks, accentuating the carefully applied blush she already had on and reminding him once again of those peach-and-pink roses. Her dark eyes focused on him, a skittishness evident in her wary gaze.

“Be honest with me, Pepper. That’s all I ask of anyone.”

With imperfect timing, the waiter appeared with a caprese salad for Pepper and a wedge of iceberg for him. His appearance killed the intense atmosphere that had hovered over them.

“I don’t know what I want, Grant. It’s only been a week. Aside from the kitchen and the kiss before the peeper struck, it isn’t exactly like we’ve been fostering a relationship. We’ve been doing home improvement projects. You could use me for sex and cast me aside any moment now, proving my mother right all along.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Her gaze had been focused on her plate, but now she met his eyes with her own. “To get back at me for last time?”

He hadn’t been expecting that. The night they spent together was amazing. The only thing it inspired for him to get back was her, in his bed. “Why would I want to get back at you?”

“For beating you at your own game. Turning the tables. Letting you wake up alone for the first time. You could’ve felt used or irritated that I left, especially when I wouldn’t see you again. Dating me just so you could drop me is a real possibility.”

“Wow,” Grant said. She really did think poorly of his family. Just a bunch of stuck-up, womanizing bastards.

“You said to be honest,” she added when she heard his stunned reaction.

“I know, and thank you. To extend the same courtesy to you, yes, I was a little thrown off by your quick departure. But at the same time, I was intrigued. You were like Cinderella, running from the ball at midnight, and I was the determined prince tracking you down. Although, unlike Cinderella, you didn’t want to be tracked. But I liked that, too.”

Pepper’s brow shot up curiously. “You liked that I rejected you?”

“More that I liked the challenge. I don’t have to tell you that I usually get my way. For years, you’ve been the exception, and I knew you were unlike all the other women in town. And from the day you crept out of my bed to the day you pepper sprayed me, you’ve been on my mind. You didn’t seem to want me, at least not publicly. As twisted as it may sound, it made me want you desperately. Having you in my bed didn’t change that the way I expected it to. It just made me want you more, but you were gone. I could still taste you on my tongue. I could hear your passionate cries in my silent, still bedroom.”

Grant spoke the words lowly so no one nearby could hear them but her. Even then, anyone nearby could guess what he was saying by the red flush of her cheeks and the twinkle of desire in her eyes.

“Really?” she asked, near breathless.

“Really. You’re an unforgettable woman, Pepper. If I were to just use you and cast you aside, I’d be a damn fool.”