Trouble When You Walked In (Contemporary Romance) Read online

  Lord save women everywhere. He looked magnificent when he stood in front of the stove and put his fists on his hips, rather like the king in The King and I—but in well-worn jeans and with masses of delicious brown hair tickling his neck and stubble that made a girl, no matter her age, want to grab that jaw and kiss him senseless.

  And it wasn’t impatience with his mother that had put that steely look in his eye, either, Nana knew. It had been there all morning, long before Boone’s mother had arrived, and it had to do with Cissie. The crackle between these two was almost palpable. Not to mention that Nana had gotten up last night and peeked in Cissie’s room and seen an empty bed.

  She’d been a good grandma. She hadn’t asked that morning what had happened. They could have been downstairs watching TV for all she knew.

  But as soon as she walked into that kitchen this morning, she’d felt it. Sex. Attraction. Two people who were drawn to each other like magnets, even though from outward appearances it didn’t make sense.

  Yes, something had definitely gone on the night before.

  Cissie had her hand on her abdomen, as if all those waffles she’d eaten now sat heavy in her stomach. But Nana would guess she wasn’t worried about Boone’s parents—she was worried about leaving Boone’s house. And it would be a cold day in hell before Cissie would admit it to herself. Nana knew her granddaughter. Cissie was as stubborn as she was.

  Cissie froze a fake smile on her face. Nana’s was real. This was all going to be very interesting.

  Becky Lee Braddock didn’t know the meaning of subtle, that was for sure. Surrounded by cloying perfume and an aureole of blown-out hair, she swept into the kitchen in her trunk show clothes and froze inside the door. A disguised Paul Bunyan—otherwise known as her husband Frank, dressed in predictable plaid pants and a preppy pink polo for a day on the links—was right behind her, his silver hair combed and shellacked to the side like Bob Barker’s used to be on The Price Is Right.

  “Well, who do we have here?” Becky Lee looked back and forth between Cissie and Nana.

  Not very original of her. Nana tried not to feel superior, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “We know who, wife,” Frank boomed, “Nana and Cissie Rogers.” The man was so literal, it hurt Nana’s soul. Thank God he’d never been mayor. But that style had helped him plow over all the real estate development competition, too. “We heard about the tree falling through your roof, ladies.”

  “That’s a sorry thing to happen.” Becky Lee shook her head.

  She seemed nicer for it, so Nana settled back in her chair. “Thank you for your concern. We’ll get through it.”

  “I reckon you will.” Frank doing empathy in his baritone nearly knocked the kitchen windows out.

  “Mom, Dad,” Boone said, “what are you doing here? It’s early. If I’d known you were coming”—he paused significantly there—“I’d have made you breakfast. We’re all out now.”

  “Son”—Frank clapped Boone’s shoulder—“it’s all right. Your mother doesn’t eat in the morning. I had Bojangles’ chicken biscuits.”

  “They don’t need to know you had Bojangles’.” Becky Lee sucked in her cheeks.

  “Why not?” asked Cissie. “I love their biscuits.”

  “Because biscuits are so—” Becky Lee shuddered.

  “Low class, is what she wants to say,” Frank interjected. “That’s her favorite word these days.”

  “Great, Mom and Dad,” said Boone. “I assume you know you just insulted my house guest. Me, too. I’m a biscuit fan. And probably so is all of Kettle Knob.”

  “I’ll have you know I turn my nose up at biscuits,” lied Nana.

  “Do you?” Becky Lee said with interest. “We can do better in this day and age than shortening and white flour baked together into something that resembles a hockey puck. But my husband can’t seem to agree with me.”

  “Take a girl out of a shack and put her in a mansion, and she starts thinking she’s too good for the food that stuck to her ribs as a child,” said Frank.

  Nana started to like him, just a little.

  But Becky Lee turned away from him like he was a bad germ. Sadly, she latched on to Cissie. “So you stayed here last night, obviously.”

  “Yes, they did, Mom,” said Boone, before Cissie could answer.

  Oh, Boone had it bad. Nana took another sip of coffee to hide her smile.

  “And you’re on your way to another place to stay after breakfast?” Becky Lee was too smart to ask Nana this. She was still locked on to Cissie.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Cissie, her lips a bit white around the edges.

  “Mom—” Boone’s brow lowered.

  “I’m just asking, son.” Becky Lee’s eyes were wide.

  “In fact”—Cissie stood—“We’re heading out right now.”

  Nana wasn’t looking forward to roaming around Kettle Knob looking for a place to stay, especially when she hadn’t made her phone calls yet. But from the look in Cissie’s eye, she wouldn’t fuss.

  “I just have to get Dexter,” Cissie added.

  “Dexter?” Frank asked.

  “Our cat,” Cissie explained. “He’s upstairs.”

  “Your allergies…” said Becky Lee to her husband.

  He wrinkled his nose. “I thought I wanted to sneeze.…”

  “Right.” These two were driving Nana crazy. “We’re off.” She rose from the table, too.

  “I’m sure you’re anxious to go,” said Becky Lee.

  She was starting to get on Nana’s nerves in a big way. But what could she say? No, I’m not at all anxious to go. It’s comfortable here. Because then Boone would feel bad, and he didn’t deserve to. He’d already been a prince inviting them to stay the night.

  Nor could she say, I’d love to see Cupid shoot a few arrows at these stubborn young people, so I want to stay to see that happen.

  Nope. If Cupid were to do his work, he was going to have to find another way.

  “It’s time to get started,” was all Nana said. She meant time for Cissie to get started on living life to the max, of course. Maybe her little tryst with Boone was a beginning.

  “Good luck,” said Frank.

  Cissie still looked as if she’d eaten too many waffles. It was her mad-sad face. She’d put it on since she was a baby, when someone tried to feed her peas or left her alone in her crib.

  “No, Dad,” said Boone. “The Rogers ladies aren’t leaving.”

  Glory be! A jolt of pure happiness lifted Nana’s shoulders a fraction of an inch higher.

  “They’re staying here—with their cat,” Boone went on in an unyielding tone, “until their house is finished. My place is convenient, and I have tons of room.”

  Nana could tell he wasn’t sure deep down it was a good idea for him. No doubt he was reluctant to spar with Cissie and even more reluctant to fall in love. It was a messy collision of souls, and it was never very convenient.

  As Cissie proved the next second: “No, thank you. We have to leave.” Her jaw was set, just as if that spoon of baby peas was right in front of her mouth.

  “That’s right, they’re going,” said Becky Lee, then looked at her husband. “Surely, you can help them find a more suitable place. Boone’s a bachelor. He doesn’t know a thing about hosting anyone.”

  “Well, I—” Frank looked helplessly around the room.

  “Dad, you don’t need to help them or me,” said Boone. “I got this.”

  “What about the cat? How will your father visit?” Becky Lee wrung her hands—thank God she’d never auditioned at the community theater—then turned to Cissie. “You don’t want gossip.”

  “Gossip?” Cissie had never cottoned to it, which was why when it happened, she usually remained blissfully ignorant of it—by choice.

  Becky Lee sent her a duh look. “You’re single, and Boone’s the most eligible bachelor in Buncombe County. Girls around here can get catty. Watch your back at Walgreens. That’s a hive of intrigue, especiall
y by the cards section.”

  “In that case, Boone had better beware,” Nana said, “because there’s no one in this entire town, state, and country more eligible than Cissie. He just might find himself in front of some crosshairs himself. Metaphorical ones, I would hope, maybe at the Ace Hardware.”

  “Everyone, please stop worrying,” Cissie said. “We can’t stay.” She looked at Nana. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m running for mayor.”

  My, oh, my, exactly what had happened last night? “Fabulous idea.” Nana knew full well that a little loving did wonders for a person’s outlook. As did sit-ins, of course. And near misses with trees through house roofs. But loving, especially.

  Cissie smiled like the Mona Lisa, further proof that the girl had been up to no good.

  Hurray!

  “You’re running for mayor?” Frank practically blew back Cissie’s hair. “Against Boone?”

  Becky Lee looked at her son in triumph. “You can’t have her here now.”

  Boone shrugged and looked effortlessly sexy holding his coffee cup the wrong way. “I knew she was running. She told me last night.”

  Becky Lee gasped.

  It was getting old, her melodrama.

  “I did tell him,” said Cissie. “And we can’t stay here. We’ve made other plans.”

  Lord, she was a fool. But Nana had been there once, too.

  “I agree,” huffed Becky Lee. “There are a million other places y’all could live. This is … this is outrageous.”

  Boone was like a rock. “What are Cissie and I going to do, Mom? We’re running against each other for political office. This isn’t war. Or Survivor. Or Jerry Springer, for that matter.”

  “Humph,” said Frank in Cissie’s general direction. “I still want to know why you think Boone’s not doing a good enough job that you have to run for mayor, young lady. Except for a miserable eight years, the Braddocks have been mayors of this town for nigh on five decades. What kind of political experience do you have?”

  “Why, none,” she said, then turned to Nana. “We really can’t stay.”

  “Let’s talk in private,” Nana replied.

  “Mom and Dad, you should probably leave now,” said Boone.

  “But I want to know—” Becky Lee nearly stomped her foot.

  “It’s not a good idea for Nana and me to stay,” Cissie said, her mad-sad face firmly in place, giving her away to anyone who knew her well.

  Cissie wanted to stay.

  Nana smiled at Boone. “I’d love to live here for a short while, dear.”

  Cissie opened her mouth to speak, but Frank cut her off. “Pardon my French, but you don’t have a chance in hell of winning the mayor’s office, so you might as well quit before you begin.”

  “Dad,” said Boone, “you weren’t speaking French. But you were being rude.” He put down his coffee cup. “When we get this thing settled,” he said directly to Cissie, which was brave of him, “we’ll go to the post office and get your mail temporarily redirected here.”

  “That’s a drastic step,” said Becky Lee. “I’m sure the ladies will understand if this is too much for you.”

  “You do have your coaching duties,” his father added. “You’re in the middle of football season.”

  “And you have the election coming up,” Becky Lee reminded him. “Let’s hold the victory party here this time. You never entertain, and you should.” She smiled at Nana. “That’s the Braddock way.”

  “So we’ve heard.” Nana didn’t give a hoot that she’d never been invited to a Braddock party. “And apparently, so is presuming that a Braddock will win before the election is even held.”

  “You deserved that, Mom,” said Boone.

  Becky Lee glowered at him.

  Frank had the grace to clear his throat. “Funny, isn’t it? We’re the two oldest families in town, and we never socialize.”

  “And now we’re going to have Braddocks and Rogerses living in the same house,” said Boone.

  “I never agreed to that.” Cissie’s neck was getting pinker by the second.

  “I can find you girls a place,” said Frank hastily.

  “No, Dad,” said Boone. “They’re staying. As soon as Cissie and Nana get things straightened out.”

  “Don’t presume, please.” Cissie got all prim and proper, which meant she was overwhelmed. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

  “She’s making up her mind about whether to stay with the man she wants to defeat in the mayor’s race?” Becky Lee clung to her pearls. “It doesn’t seem right somehow.”

  “Excuse me for a moment, everyone.” Nana didn’t wait to hear any polite assents before she moved to the far corner of the kitchen. “Cissie, dear, come over here.”

  Cissie followed like a little lamb. The crazy conversation had messed with her head.

  “I want to stay,” Nana told her in a low voice. Over Cissie’s shoulder she saw the family of three huddled in their own conversation, apparently intense, as Boone’s mouth was a thin line, Becky Lee’s arms were crossed tightly over her silken tunic, and Frank was tugging on his ear.

  Cissie’s face registered panic. “I-I can’t.”

  “Sure you can. I know you and Boone have some kind of thing going on.” Cissie’s eyes widened slightly. “But you can handle it.”

  “Why should I?” At least she didn’t deny it.

  “Because we’ll never find accommodations this good, I promise. We may very well sleep on a pullout couch, or blow-up mattresses, with dogs sniffing our faces, cigarette smoke, and TVs going all night. Either that, or a pristine room with two twin four-poster beds, and we’ll be required to dress for dinner and know the difference between eight spoons and forks and be on our best behavior all the time. Not to mention we’ve got Dexter. This place is as close to feeling like home as we’ll get. And you need home. So do I.”

  Cissie’s face fell. “I don’t know.…”

  “Use whatever energy you have going with Boone to fuel you. I don’t care if it’s positive, negative, or both. You haven’t looked this good in years.”

  Her granddaughter rolled her eyes like a teenager, another good sign. “That’s the altitude, probably. We’re higher up here.”

  “Bull. It’s sex. This is your nana speaking. Don’t lie to me.”

  Cissie pressed a palm over her eyes. “Oh, God.”

  “Child?” Nana took her hand. “Give me an answer.”

  She dropped her hand. “Okay. We’ll stay. But we need to keep it top secret. We’ll have to get Mrs. Hattlebury to pretend we’re living with her. And if things go downhill…”

  “We’ll deal with it, I promise.” Nana hugged her.

  They walked back to the group.

  “We’ll stay,” Cissie said. “As long as we can pretend we’re living with the Hattleburys. So just don’t tell anyone.”

  “I predict fun times,” Nana added.

  “Great.” Boone had quite the gleam in his eye. “Why don’t you stick around a while, Mom and Dad? While we get everyone settled in?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Becky Lee looked at her pretty gold watch.

  “We have things to do,” Frank said, and made Nana’s sternum rattle.

  “That’s a shame.” Boone did his best to sound sincere.

  Everyone started walking out of the kitchen toward the front door.

  Nana almost chuckled. The master of the house probably thought keeping his parents at bay was the only reason he wanted Cissie and her to stay. Nana would play along, let him feel like a genius. Soon enough, Boone would get whacked between the eyeballs by the deeper motivation walking right next to him: Cissie, on her high horse, but prettier than a mess of fried catfish, as smart as the day is long, and plenty fun once she made up her mind to have some.

  Help her with that, Boone, Nana said silently to his back. She and Dexter would stay well out of the way.

  “How about coming back for supper?” Boone asked his parents.

  Oh, he
was diabolical.

  “No,” his mother said faintly. “Thank you very much for asking.”

  “We’re busy.” His dad was too irked to be polite.

  “Don’t let this stop you from dropping in almost every day.” Boone tested his newfound luck even more. “I sure would miss that.”

  “I’m afraid we’re booked for the next couple weeks,” said his mother.

  “Yes, sirree.” Frank was mighty fond of that word.

  “What a shame.” Boone held the front door open for them.

  “Well, it was nice talking to you both,” Cissie called to them.

  “Bye bye,” said Nana, to get one last dig in at Becky Lee.

  Talking about a victory party already—that was too smug by half!

  When Boone shut the door behind them, he came back into the kitchen. “Well.” He grinned. “Welcome to my abode.”

  He might as well have been a lion making sure his lioness knew he was coming after her, come hell or high water.

  As proof, Cissie’s mad-sad face was gone. Her eyes were a brilliant deep blue. She was excited, despite herself, although she did her best to appear serious. “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said solemnly to Boone, supposedly because Nana was making her be nice.

  But what she really meant was, I’ll be waiting. Don’t take me for granted. And you’d better be good.

  Nana nearly giggled aloud. Oh, to be young again!

  “We sure do appreciate your offer,” Nana said in her best helpless-old-lady voice. “We’ll try to stay out of your way. Especially Cissie, being your opponent in the election and all.”

  “No need to.” Boone grinned.

  Nana tried to pretend she didn’t see him looking down Cissie’s shirt.

  “But Nana’s right.” Cissie, oblivious to the perusal, made a valiant effort to stave him off. “Maybe we’ll see each other in the kitchen because we have to, but other than that…”

  “We don’t even need to do that,” Nana said. “We have the kitchenette upstairs, and a TV, too.”

  “None of that’s necessary,” Boone said. “We can rise above the fray and leave politics at the office.”

  The man was desperate for her granddaughter, that much was clear to Nana. “Cissie?”

  “Yes?” She cast a half-lidded sideways glance at Boone.