The Treasure Man. Pamela Browning

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “That’s good, because I don’t know one screw from another.”

      He blinked at her, and she realized what he must be thinking. She felt her neck coloring. “We could give it a trial,” she said quickly to cover her embarrassment. “Maybe a week or two?”

      “That suits me, since I’m waiting for a job to come through and money is tight.”

      “You don’t work with Sea Search anymore?”

      “I haven’t been employed there for over a year.” Ben drained the can in one easy motion and stood up, crumpling it in his hand. “The rain has let up enough so that I can retrieve the food from your car,” he said before tossing the can into the trash bin beside the door.

      Chloe, her cheeks still flushed from her gaffe, handed over her car keys and watched from the window as Ben loped through the curtain of rain. He soon returned carrying bags of groceries that she’d bought before leaving Texas, sprinkling wet droplets around the kitchen as he shook water from his eyes.

      “I spotted your cat. He’s sitting under the porch steps.”

      “Butch will be okay on his own. He loves it here.” She set a box of cat crunchies out on the counter for later and started to stash the rest of the food in the pantry.

      “Would you like a sandwich?” she asked.

      “No, I’d rather inspect my new digs.”

      “You’ll have to plug in the refrigerator in there, and I’m not sure the hot-water heater works. Gwynne mentioned something about it.”

      “I’ll check everything.” He rose, and she found herself staring point-blank at his bare damp torso, exposed when his shirt had come unbuttoned. His physique, even though he was older than when she saw him last, was close to spectacular. Wide shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, and his legs were muscular and nicely formed.

      “I’d better call Butch one more time,” she said, mostly for something to do besides stare at the line of hair pointing toward his navel.

      She stood and went to the door as Ben disappeared into the annex. Butch didn’t appear when she called. Since she wasn’t interested in flailing around beneath the porch in the hope of chasing him out, she went back inside and opened the can of tuna.

      After her solitary meal, she climbed the stairs to her room and stripped off her wet clothes, noticing that the stream of water from her bathroom sink ran nonstop, a knob was missing from the vanity and the hook from the closet door lay on the floor. Thank goodness Ben Derrick had shown up. With him to help her, she might be able to make her ambitious plans for the summer work after all.

      She was brushing her teeth when she heard a door open downstairs. “Chloe?”

      “Uh-huh,” she said through a mouthful of toothpaste. She grabbed a glass of water, rinsed her mouth and spit; the water here had a foul sulfur taste, but the water softener would take care of that.

      “You’re right. The hot-water heater isn’t working.”

      She wrapped her robe tightly around her and went to the top of the stairs. Ben was standing in the foyer below.

      “I’ll look at it tomorrow,” he said.

      “Okay,” Chloe said, her heart sinking. She didn’t have extra money to pay for major repairs, and anyway, she wasn’t sure whose responsibility they would be, hers or Gwynne’s.

      “I figured I’d better report it.”

      “Thanks. I think. Hey, you’ll be needing a hot shower, won’t you?”

      “That would be nice, but I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

      “The bathrooms up here are all supplied by the water heater under the attic stairs,” she said, inclining her head in that direction. “It’s working fine. I have personal knowledge of this.”

      “If you wouldn’t mind—” Ben began, but she shushed him by holding up a hand.

      “Use the bathroom off the master suite to my right. You won’t be in my way.”

      “Cool,” Ben said, and for a moment she could have sworn that he was ogling her bare legs below her short terry-cloth robe.

      “No, hot,” she said, referring to the water, but as he raised his eyebrows, she realized that he thought she was making a flirtatious comment about him.

      “Good night,” she mumbled in embarrassment, turning on her heel and fleeing to her own room, knowing that she hadn’t mistaken the humorous glint in his eyes.

      “Good night, Chloe,” he replied, a hint of laughter in his voice.

      Her room was filled with the sound of the rain on the roof and Ben taking his shower on the other side of the wall, which divided her room from the master bath. She couldn’t stop visualizing Ben standing under the shower spray, soaping himself all over. The more she tried to banish him from her mind, the more vividly her imagination embellished his image.

      “Ridiculous,” she muttered as she fluffed her pillow for the fourth time. “I’m not here to get involved with a guy.”

      Except that it was a strange thing about not wanting to meet men. Sometimes all you had to do was decide that you didn’t want any part of them, and suddenly, they were everywhere. Popping up in your headlights. Crawling out of the woodwork like palmetto bugs. Showering in the room next door. Reminding you of when you were sixteen years old and eager to find out what love was all about.

      Too bad that you couldn’t just squirt men with something in a spray can and make them go away. Although even if that were possible, she wouldn’t get rid of Ben Derrick.

      Not that anyone could ever recapture the thrill of a first crush. No, better that Ben never realize that she’d cared for him. Better to hunker down at the Frangipani Inn, get to work and forget all about that special summer.

      Chapter Two

      Chloe’s goal in taking up residence at the inn was twofold. The solitude would allow her to get her fledgling jewelry business off the ground, and she could stop solving other people’s problems. It was difficult, after years of accepting the roles that other people expected her to play in their lives, to disengage. Grandma Nell had understood.

      “You can’t create space for new experiences and new people in your life if you’re giving all your energy to people who drag you down,” her grandmother had said. “It’s time for you to leave behind unproductive and outmoded situations, Chloe. Go to Sanluca. Stay awhile.”

      The resounding message was that she needed to concentrate on herself for a change. After several rescue operations involving unsuitable men, Chloe couldn’t have agreed more.

      Of course, there would always be room in her life for Butch, who woke her the morning after she arrived by jumping on her feet and nibbling at her toes. Hoping to get back to sleep, she yanked one foot away, then the other. This only caused the cat to settle on her chest, purring loudly as he kneaded sharp claws in and out of her shoulder.

      “All СКАЧАТЬ