Falling For Grace. Stella Bagwell
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and his screeching instrument.
His clipped statement appeared to take her aback and for a moment Jack thought he saw a wounded look in her eyes, as though it pained her that he was being unfriendly. But, hell, that was a crazy notion. She didn’t even know him. It couldn’t matter to her whether he was Mr. Nice or a real jerk.
She folded her arms beneath her breasts. The movement made the mound of baby she was carrying even more evident to his gaze. “Surely Trent told you about me.”
His eyes narrowed. “What about you?” he asked carefully.
She frowned as though she considered his question inane. “That I was a music teacher, of course. And that you might encounter…well that some of the music might spill over onto your place from time to time.”
The idea that she called these boys’ squawking efforts “music” made him want to laugh out loud. But at the same time he’d been expecting her to come out with something much more personal about Trent. The fact that she hadn’t, disappointed Jack greatly. He was anxious to get to the truth. And even more eager to get away from this woman. She bothered him in ways he couldn’t begin to understand.
“Actually, he didn’t tell me anything. I…purchased the property through a Realtor,” he lied. “Yesterday was my first day to ever step foot on the place.”
Her expression said only a fool would buy a piece of property without looking at it first. And it dawned on him that she didn’t have any idea he had money to burn. The amount he’d paid for this little spot on the beach had been insignificant to him.
“Why?”
Jack frowned. “What do you mean, why?”
“Why did you buy this place without looking it over first?”
Impatient with her question and even more with himself because he found her so damned intriguing, he asked sharply, “Do you think that really concerns you?”
She took a seat on the edge of one of the chairs and crossed her sandaled feet. Jack’s gaze was instantly drawn to her toenails, which were painted a rich, lusty red. How the hell she managed to reach them, he didn’t know. But then, maybe she had a man who’d been glad to paint them for her. The idea grated on him far worse than the sound of Albert’s resined bow.
“No. It really doesn’t concern me at all, Mr. Barrett. Just as my music students don’t concern you.”
Slowly he folded his arms against his chest. “I’m sorry, but that’s where you’re wrong. And as for calling that—” he gestured back over his shoulder toward Albert “—‘music’, I think you need to have your ears tested.”
She cast him a too sweet smile. “If you’re bothered by the music, perhaps you should go inside.”
The grin he shot back at her was anything but sincere. “Why don’t you go inside?” he suggested.
Straightening her shoulders, she stared him in the eye. This man was way too arrogant for his own good, she decided. “For one, my air conditioner is not working. It’s hot inside. Two, I want to get the children accustomed to playing out of doors. Since they’ll be putting on an outdoor concert this fall for one of the local elementary schools.”
He snorted with mocking disbelief. “Concert! For the past two hours I haven’t heard one decent note from these kids!”
Her lips compressed to a flat line, she rose to her feet. “Will you kindly lower your voice? I don’t want Albert to hear you.”
“Well, I’ve been hearing him for the past thirty minutes. How much longer is this going to go on?”
Grace took in a long breath and let it out slowly as she tried to compose herself. Of course, anyone who wasn’t used to being around beginning music students, especially violin students, weren’t prepared for the noise, but this man didn’t have to be so rude and insensitive about it all.
“What do you do for a living, Mr. Barrett?”
“I’m a lawyer. What has that got to do with anything?”
It figured, Grace thought. He seemed awfully good at asking personal questions. “Did you go into the courtroom without training?”
He glowered and she quickly answered for him.
“Don’t bother telling me. We both know you had years of it. And even then you weren’t an expert. You had to learn. Just like Albert and the rest of my students. And if you do happen to stick around until this fall, I’ll show you what I mean.”
He’d angered her, Jack realized. Her breasts were heaving up and down in short spurts. The color along her angled cheekbones had deepened to the shade of rich wine. Sparks lit her green eyes and the odd thought struck Jack that he wished he were as alive as this woman standing in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt as much passion as he saw on her face.
“I’m sure I won’t be here this fall, Miss Holliday. Like I told you earlier, I’m only staying…a few days.”
She studied him keenly, making Jack wonder what she saw when she looked at him. An old man? A pesky neighbor? Or was she looking at him in a more personal way?
Hell, Jack, since when did you ever care how a woman looked at you.
Not since his wife, and she’d divorced him years ago.
“What about your family? Are they not staying here with you, too?” she asked.
“No. I don’t have a family.”
“Oh.” The news left Grace feeling strangely warm and disturbed. At his age she’d expected him to have a family. If not with him, then tucked safely away somewhere. Now that she knew he didn’t have a wife or children, she felt even more threatened by his powerful presence. “I’m sorry,” she added.
He stopped short of releasing a mocking laugh. “Sorry? Look, this is the way I want to be. Free. Single. I’m as happy as a hog in a watermelon patch.”
From the looks of him, he’d never been that happy in his life, Grace thought. But then, the haggard lines on his face could be mostly from fatigue. Or anger at her for disturbing his peace and quiet.
“Miss Holliday, it’s seven-thirty. My mom is going to be waiting out front.”
Giving herself a mental shake, Grace glanced away from the man to see Albert climbing down from the step-chair where he’d been practicing his violin.
“Excuse me,” she said to Jack. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Jack started to tell her it was time for him to go, too. But he stopped himself short. He’d wanted an opportunity to talk to her. Now that she’d given him one, it would be foolish to pass it up.
Jack listened while she gave Albert instructions on what to practice through the coming week. Eventually the boy’s sheet music and instrument were packed away and with a gentle smile, she led him by the hand out of the backyard.
As Jack watched, he had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that she seemed good with children. Though he’d never had any kids himself, he could easily remember back to when he’d been Albert’s age. Francine, his mother, had been loud and high strung with hardly any time for her son or daughter. She’d never smiled or touched him with the tenderness Grace has just shown Albert. She’d liked her cocktails and the social life that went with being the wife of a highly successful corporate lawyer. She’d seen that Jack and Jillian had the material things they’d needed, but had never given either of them any emotional nurturing.
Francine, having divorced their father shortly before he’d died of a heart attack, had quickly married a wealthy financier on the west coast. Jillian still shed tears when she recalled how their mother had treated them through the years. As for Jack, he didn’t give a damn if he ever saw the woman again.
Pushing the dark thought aside, Jack hitched up