Borrowing Alex Page 12

  The phone call to Karin should reveal that reason. It had better. The speculation chewed his guts. Nikki must be climbing the walls.

  “When’s the weddin’?” Willie Gotobed’s rough voice shot through him, and Alex’s skull whacked the open hood. He hadn’t suffered so many attacks on his noggin in his life.

  Rubbing his aching scalp, he moved out from beneath the hood. “Willie, don’t sneak up on me.”

  “I weren’t sneaking. You were daydreaming.”

  “I was concentrating.” Neither he nor Nikki had seen Willie or Violet in the two days since Nikki had rescued Lucy from the old guy’s shovel. Come to think of it, they hadn’t discussed how to handle the elderly couple’s potential questions about their joint presence at the cabin, either. “What did you say again?”

  “The weddin’,” Willie repeated, squinting against the mid-morning sun. Santos stood panting behind him. Several feet away, Bernie frolicked with a butterfly, his Rambo complex in apparent remission. “She’s wearing an engagement ring. Don’t tell me that don’t mean something.”

  Alex cleared his throat. “The wedding date isn’t set yet.”

  “Damn kids these days! Living in sin, is she?”

  “No, sir.” Alex closed the van hood. “Nikki and I don’t live together, and the cabin has two beds. Nothing shady is going on.”

  Willie cackled. “I hope not. You’re not the fee-an-say!”

  “I’m not?” There went one cover story.

  “Nope.” Willie grinned broadly. “I can tell.”

  What a load. “How?”

  The old man smacked his lips. “Well, now, you look at her like you want her to be yours, but you don’t touch her like she is yours. No hand-holding or pecks on the cheek that we could see the other day, anyhow. What kind of fee-an-say does that make you? A fee-an-say she calls ‘friend’?” He snorted, pulling his chin. “Me and Vi guessed right off that somethin’ fishy was going on. You’re not the fee-an-say, but some other fellow is. Whether Nikki is living with the other fellow or not makes no never mind. She’s here with you, and that ain’t right.”

  Five days ago, Alex would have agreed with him. Hell, three days ago, he would have. But a lot had changed between then and now. Nikki trusted him, and he respected and admired her. She needed protecting from Royce. Until the mystery of the man’s absence was solved, Alex was staying put.

  Stepping to the driver’s door, he lifted a hand. “Mr. Gotobed—”

  The old guy harrumphed. “Vi’s inside with her now, trying to wrestle the truth from the gal. Nikki’s grandpa was a good friend of ours. We’re determined to look out for her. Can’t make whoopee all day, you know. Even Willie’s willie needs a rest.” He cackled.

  Oh brother. “Mr. Gotobed, I realize your intentions are honorable, but—”

  “What?” Willie’s gaze narrowed. “He’s done her wrong, hasn’t he? And you’re her go-to guy, that it? We’ve had two days to think on this, boy, so don’t be avoiding me now.”

  Alex proceeded to do exactly that. He climbed behind the wheel of the van, one leg dangling out the open door. No surprise, Willie followed, Santos lumbering behind him. Bernie remained in butterfly-chasing mode.

  Alex turned the key in the ignition, and the engine hacked to life. He tilted his head. “Connection’s there, but I should time it.”

  Willie hitched up his pants. “I got a timing light.”

  “Nikki’s grandfather probably stored one in the shed. That place is packed.”

  “Well, you don’t want to find yourself stranded when no one else is around. My shed’s damn full herself, as she should be.” The old man’s whiskered jaw shifted back and forth. “Tell you what, lad. I’ll assist you, but you gotta help me first. Violet’s going crazy worrying about that little gal in there. Says she’ll hide my Rise-All if I can’t get you to talk. Now, cuddling is fine for old Willie, don’t get me wrong, but a man starts hankering for something more after a spell. After sixty-five years of matrimony, I still want my woman. I just need the Rise-All to do something about it.”

  Alex chuckled. The randy geezer was persistent... and perceptive. Willie had zeroed in on Alex’s feelings for Nikki like an arrow hitting its mark.

  That didn’t change matters, though. The story wasn’t his to tell.

  If the Gotobeds had arrived Friday night, he would have spilled Nikki’s scheme in an instant. However, these past few days at the cabin had smacked him in the teeth with the knowledge that he’d been living his life like a gerbil on a treadmill. Yeah, he hopped off for a day or two every several months, but his rigid mindset regarding tenure always sent him racing back to PU before he could realize he’d been working too hard and too damn long for the wrong things.

  He shook his head. “Sorry, it’s not my place to say anything.” He killed the engine.

  “It is if you care for her. And I know you do.”

  Cared for her? Hell, he loved her. The truth sank into his bones. He loved the woman after five short nights and six incredible days. He probably would have fallen for her the first time he’d laid eyes on her—if that meeting had occurred before her engagement party.

  He loved her, although he knew he shouldn’t. He loved her even though it was wrong. He didn’t want to see her hurt or made to feel ridiculous. According to what she’d revealed about her childhood, she’d felt deficient or somehow lacking her entire life. Her grandparents and cousin were the only close relatives who hadn’t tried to change her.

  As a testament to her strength of character, she’d wound up nothing like her snobby parents and sister. The personal tidbits Alex had gleaned from Hans Sorensen’s farming journals seemed to indicate that Nikki resembled her deceased grandmother from her angel-kissed looks to her bubbly personality.

  The cabin door creaked open, sparing him more Rise-All discussion. Nikki and Violet emerged.

  Alex climbed out of the van. As Nikki’s gaze met his, she smiled, and the throbbing in his head eased. She’d acted anxious as a spooked cat all morning, startling whenever he’d neared her. Talking with Violet must have calmed her. But what had she told the old lady?

  “Damn,” Willie muttered with a sideways glance. “She better not hide my Rise-All after this.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Willie. That might be fun. A sharp fellow like you should have no trouble finding it. Then you could surprise her.” Alex winked.

  “Hah! You got a point there, son. Not sure I wanna trick my woman, though.”

  “Hey, can you help it if she interrupted us before you could break me?”

  “I like the way you think, boy!”

  “The way he thinks about what, Will?” Violet asked as the women approached. She wore her purple-tinged hair in a bun today and shoes instead of slippers with her pink dress. Near her, Nikki bent to pet Santos.

  “The way he thinks about... timing lights.” Willie elbowed Alex. “He’s working on the engine.”

  “The van’s nearly ready,” Alex informed Nikki. Her gaze lifted from her dog, and color tipped her cheeks.

  A trace of her earlier nervousness had returned, burnished with a deeper emotion she struggled to suppress. Alex sensed the battle in the crystal-blue depths of her eyes and the barely noticeable hitch of breath in her throat.

  Had she guessed how he felt about her and now wrestled with the unexpected complication?

  “Turns out I don’t need the van this morning after all,” she said, straightening and wiping her hands. “But thanks for getting it running again. I appreciate it, considering I’m responsible for wrecking it in the first place.”

  “You don’t need the van?” Alex asked. “What about that phone call you needed to make?”

  Violet waved a hand. “She doesn’t have to go to town to make a call, dear. We have a cell phone in our cabin. Our sons insisted we bring one.”

  “Yup.” Willie nodded. “Tried telling the lads that second-honeymooners have no use for Mr. Alexander Graham Bell, but would they listen?” He grinn
ed. “It’s like I said, you don’t wanna find yourself stranded when no one else is around.” His gaze honed in on Alex. “I’m surprised you didn’t think of that yourself, young fellow.”

  Nikki cringed. “Alex left his phone in Seattle.”

  “I really can’t remember where,” Alex said.

  “Eh?”

  “Now, Will, don’t pry,” Violet admonished her husband. “Nikki needs to use our phone. That’s all you have to know.” She slipped her arm through Nikki’s. “Come along, dear. The sooner you call, the better.”

  “I’ll go, too.” Alex closed the van door. If Nikki heard bad news, he wanted to be there for her.

  “No,” she said softly, not meeting his gaze. “I need to do this on my own.”

  Every instinct he possessed screamed that he maintain she needed his support. But he had to respect her choices—for her life and in this moment.

  Stomach roiling, he nodded.

  Instructing the dogs to remain behind, Nikki left with Violet.

  “There is somethin’ fishy happening.” Willie rested his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Best let her go, son. There’s no stopping them when their minds are set.” His gaze drifted to his departing wife. “You don’t think she’ll still hide my Rise-All after this, do you?”

  “Bidwell and Lancelot, Chartered Accountants. Good morning, this is Karin Russell. May I help you?”

  “Karin,” Nikki murmured into the Gotobed’s cell phone in the privacy of their cabin bedroom. The signal sputtered but would have to do. Her attraction to Alex was rapidly growing out of hand. She needed relief before she jumped him again. Only this time she didn’t have kidnapping in mind. She’d rip off his clothes and devour the man—unless she connected with Royce pretty damn soon. However, diverging from the backup plan and calling her fiancé without first checking in with Karin didn’t sound smart. After the emotional upheaval of the last several days, a modicum of sanity was in order.

  “Nikki?” Worry shadowed Karin’s voice. “Is that you?”

  The signal crackled in Nikki’s ear. “Yes. Can you talk?”

  “Thank God, it is you! I didn’t know how to reach you other than driving up there. I asked for a day off, but Mr. Bidwell said he couldn’t spare me after I had to leave early last week.” To help Nikki with her ridiculous plan. “A bookkeeper fell ill, and I’m covering for her. The earliest I could have managed is Friday night. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Karin hadn’t worked for the accounting office long, and if she wanted to move beyond the reception desk she needed to grab opportunities as they arose. “That’s excellent news about the bookkeeping, and I should have brought my cell.” Nikki hadn’t wanted to risk Alex finding her phone and using it to contact help. But hindsight was better than foresight—or something. She’d created this mess. Now she had to fix it.

  She sat on a chair beside the bed. A floral housecoat draped one pillow, and Willie’s prescription bottle of Rise-All tablets perched on the pine night table. Beyond the floor-length curtain that served as a bedroom door, Violet’s light footfalls echoed in the kitchen area.

  The woman empathized with Nikki’s predicament, and that felt good. Back at her cabin, when Nikki had poured out the truth of her situation, Violet hadn’t judged her. The old lady had sat down and listened, Nikki’s hand clasped in hers.

  In ten minutes, Nikki had enjoyed more understanding from her new friend than she had from either of her parents over the last few years.

  Yet surely she bore some responsibility for the pathetic state of her family relationships.

  She’d think more about that later.

  “Royce isn’t here,” she told Karin. “He never showed. What happened?” Even if he’d planned to dump her, wouldn’t he have wanted to pile on the guilt by doing it in person?

  “I, um, was hoping you would have come home by now,” Karin’s voice carried over the cell.

  “I couldn’t. I’m still waiting for Royce. Did he find the note? Did he call you? Did you call him? What did he say?”

  A pause elapsed. “Well, no, I didn’t call him. I waited until Sunday and then I went over there, like you asked.”

  Her cousin’s reluctance to give a straight answer clanged like a fire alarm. Getting up, Nikki paced the tiny bedroom. How Royce responded to her needs before they got married would determine his behavior once they were husband and wife—if they made it to the altar. After so much freaking hassle over setting a simple wedding date, she harbored major reservations about marrying the guy at all. That she could blow hot and cold about the man she’d once intended to spend the rest of her life—

  Goose bumps prickled her arms, and she ceased pacing.

  What was that? Had intended?

  “And?” she prompted Karin. “You went to his apartment? Had he been to my house yet?” He should have. They’d had a date. Although, it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d cancelled. “Did he find the note?” She rubbed her neck.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Yes, he found it?”

  “And, yes, I went there. But, Nikki, he wasn’t, uh, open to what I had to say.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Hang on. Another call’s coming in.”

  The signal flattened as Karin put her on hold. Nikki tapped her foot. Now she knew how sheep felt at shearing time—edgy as all get-out.

  The signal clicked again, and Karin’s voice broke through the poor connection. “Sorry, that was Mrs. Bidwell. She phones a dozen times a day.”

  Nikki didn’t want to hear about Mrs. Bidwell. “Karin—knock-knock—Royce? What are you trying to tell me?”

  Her cousin sighed. “All right. Nikki, I don’t think Royce cares if you sleep with Alex Hart or not.”

  “What?” Her brain screamed. “He didn’t buy the fake hookup?”

  “No, I mean he... doesn’t care. Nikki, I’m sorry. He said he enjoys the freedom he’s found with you, and if you want to have a little pre-wedding fling in return, he’ll allow it. Just this once.”

  “He what?” He’d allow it? This once?

  “He said you and he are perfect together in every way but one. But that he’s found a way to deal with it. And then, oh Nikki, he hit on me.”

  Her jaw seized. She’d kill him! Abstinence was supposed to make the fiancé yearn fondly—but not for other women.

  “He touched my butt and tried to kiss me. Then...” Karin’s voice lowered “... he asked me to sleep with him. Ugh, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

  If Nikki heard any more, she’d puke. She dropped onto the chair, the phone slippery in her clammy hand. Her fiancé had hit on her maid of honor while she had the hots for their best man?

  What kind of warped engagement was this? He couldn’t possibly love her.

  A wave of curious emotion washed over her.

  Liberation, if she wasn’t mistaken.

  “Nikki?” Karin asked. “Are you okay?”

  “Um, yeah, just rattled.”

  Royce didn’t love her. Well, whoop-de-do. That he’d upset Karin made Nikki want to plow him, but she didn’t feel the keen bite of betrayal she would have expected. She didn’t feel dejected or devastated by his actions, just foolish for having fallen for him in the first place. And gullible. And disillusioned.

  She didn’t need to take another magazine quiz to understand why. Reality crashed in on her.

  Her fiancé didn’t love her—what a profound relief.

  Because she didn’t love him, either.

  Chapter 9

  Ooh-La-La

  RUBBING HER ARMS, Nikki tromped along the pebble-strewn lakeshore. Although the sun plumped high in the azure sky, the crisp spring breeze had climbed steadily in the hour since she’d left the Gotobeds’ cabin. She should have worn a sweater over her T-shirt, but how was she to have anticipated that her phone call to Royce would send her scampering to the refuge of the shadow-dappled woods, where she’d withdrawn into a newfound shell of insecurities without Vio
let or Willie or Alex around to pity her?

  She was only returning to her cabin now so Alex wouldn’t worry.

  Tennis shoes scrunching gravel, she lifted her face to the cool air. While her phone call to Karin had rattled her, the follow-up call to Royce had peeled her eyes wide open. That she’d wasted two years engaged to the jerk hurt. However, to learn the depths of her gullibility had proved downright degrading.

  Royce was slime—and the worst kind of coward, backpedaling over what he’d said to Karin. Nikki was better off without the creep.

  She trudged up the grassy slope to the cabin. The van sat empty with the hood shut. Hopefully, Willie had returned to his wife. Nikki couldn’t face him.

  Could she face Alex?

  Inhaling deeply, she entered the cabin. Bernie slept on the couch, and Alex sat at the table in a chair facing the door, a farming journal from her grandfather’s collection open in front of him. He’d occupied the same spot for hours at a time the last couple of days. The man’s passion for history enthralled her, as did the affection inherent in his tone whenever he mentioned his family.

  When he cared about something or someone, he didn’t hold back. If he ever asked a woman to marry him, it would be because he loved the lucky girl—not because he wanted something from her.

  He was one of the few people who accepted Nikki for who she was, at any rate. Who wasn’t always trying to tempt or deceive her into becoming the person he wanted her to be.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “It went,” she said on her way into the kitchen. Please don’t follow me. Shame for her idiocy wracked her, and she didn’t want him discovering the extent of her naïveté. However, if he pressed, she’d pour out her soul. She wouldn’t be able to help herself.

  Thank God he must have recognized her need for solitude, because sounds of his chair scraping back reached her ears... then his retreating footsteps... and finally the creaking springs of a bed as he sat or reclined upon it.

  Sighing, she gazed at Santos, hunkered near his food bowl. She petted the dog, then refreshed his water and fed him. As Santos munched, she dug cold cuts out of the refrigerator for submarine sandwiches. She craved the busy work, and Alex would appreciate it. He liked her cooking.