A Baxter's Redemption Page 10

  “Are you free tonight?” he asked.

  “Why do you ask?” She shot him a quirky smile. Were her purchases so obvious?

  “Why don’t we go out for dinner? I could use a friendly face.”

  Isabel looked down at her basket, considering. She’d been thinking about a mouthwatering steak since midafternoon. “I’m in the mood for home-cooked steak.”

  He chuckled and grabbed two steaks from the refrigerator. “You drive a hard bargain. I happen to make a pretty spectacular steak, myself. What do you say? My place?”

  It had been a long time since a man had asked her out, and Isabel regarded him thoughtfully. It was a terrible idea to get involved with the family lawyer, but it would be equally pleasant to have dinner with someone other than her father and Britney for a change—or alone. Still, the complications could be endless, and the last thing she needed right now was more of those in her life.

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she finally admitted. “I mean, you’re the family lawyer, and—”

  “As friends.” He held up a hand in retreat. “That’s all. More than that would be hard to juggle, I agree. But if that makes you uncomfortable, don’t worry about it.”

  She smiled ruefully. She kept forgetting that she wasn’t the stunning beauty anymore with men clambering after her. In a way, it had been harder then. She’d never really known who she could trust—who cared about her as a person and who just wanted a chance to brag that they’d been with a beauty queen. But those days were behind her now, and James eyed her uncertainly.

  “Actually, that sounds really nice,” she said. “Sorry, I’m still getting used to—” She stopped. How to explain without sounding conceited?

  James’s cell phone rang and he glanced down at it, then shot her an apologetic look.

  “It’s my sister,” he said. “I’d better get this.”

  It took the pressure off Isabel to explain herself any further, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She moved a few feet away to give him some privacy.

  She had to admit that things had been awkward in the dating department ever since the accident. First of all, men weren’t interested in her now that she was no longer a piece of arm candy. Second, she didn’t know how to act anymore. She knew how to brush off unwanted advances. She knew how to play coy. She knew how to meet a man’s eye and then wait a couple of beats for him to realize that he might actually have a chance with her. But this—this world of ordinariness—was confusing. How did a woman get a man’s attention when she didn’t naturally draw every eye in the room?

  “No, Jenny, you don’t have to pay anything... I’m sure of it... Okay, read me the letter... Wait—see? Right there. It isn’t even addressed to you...”

  Isabel glanced over to see James talking earnestly into the phone. His head was down so she could see his profile, the stubble on his chin catching the backlight of the refrigerator. His features were angular, and the way he held his phone up to his ear accentuated the bulge of his biceps. He was a good-looking man, but his attractiveness wasn’t the kind that stood out. It took a moment of observation to notice his latent strength, or the defiant set to his jawline.

  Or maybe it’s obvious to everyone else, and I was just too self-centered to notice, she thought wryly.

  Not that it mattered. James was still the family lawyer, and therefore out of the question romantically. Isabel wasn’t stupid—he had her father’s interests at heart, not hers. But in spite of all of those very logical reasons to steer clear, she was looking forward to an evening with him. It had been a long time since she’d had the opportunity to see the subtler attractions in a man. She sighed. This had better not be because she was lonely. She used to think that men could smell desperation, and she wondered if she was giving off a whiff of it, too.

  Her phone blipped, and she looked down at an incoming text. It was Carmella.

  What are you up to tonight? Want to do a movie?

  She smiled to herself before she typed her reply: Sorry, can’t. Have dinner plans with a man.

  That would give Carmella something to chew over until they talked next. If she was going to pass on some rumors, let a few of them be in her favor. It was a bit mean, since Isabel knew as well as James did that nothing would come of this dinner. But still, it was nice to at least pretend she still had it. She grinned to herself and pressed Send.

  “... Okay, okay. I’m on my way.” James ended his call, then glanced at Isabel. “That was my sister.”

  “Is something wrong?” Isabel asked.

  “She got a letter delivered to the house saying that she owes money. It’s all a mistake, but she’s freaking out over there, so I need to pop by and take care of that. It won’t take long.” He paused. “Did you want to come?”

  “Wouldn’t I be in the way?” she asked.

  He looked like he was about to agree, then he shrugged.

  “Not at all. This will be quick. I promise.”

  She could have bowed out, but she realized that she didn’t want to sit alone tonight, after all. She wanted company, and Carmella’s shallow prattle wasn’t going to cut it. “Sure. Why not?”

  * * *

  JAMES PUT THE car into gear and slid his emotions behind a granite mask.

  What were you thinking?

  He hadn’t planned on asking Isabel out like this. He’d hoped for something halfway between a business meeting and a friendly chat—something to cover the bases for Mr. Baxter without letting things get personal, but there had been something about seeing her in the grocery store that threw all his plans out the window.

  She’d just seemed so...lonesome. Or had he been imagining that? It was a male thing to want to be the conquering hero—the rescuer. Chances were, he was falling into the same old trap that men always fell into with Isabel Baxter—thinking that she needed them. Andrew had been the same way. He’d been the tutor in her time of need, and he’d believed that she felt more for him than she had. Granted, she’d done her part in convincing him of that.

  James glanced over at Isabel, seated next to him in his car. They’d just dropped her SUV off at her place and were now headed back into town toward Jenny’s house. She leaned her head back against the headrest, her dark hair falling in glossy waves around her shoulders. She looked the same—except for the scars angling down her temple and cheek. Perhaps it was the scars that made her seem so much more vulnerable now. He couldn’t fall into that trap, though. Her gaze flickered in his direction.

  James cleared his throat. “Jenny’s place isn’t far. She’s in Raven’s Glen—that residential area that was built up on the hill when we were in high school. Remember it?”

  She smiled. “I do. My dad owns a few houses up there.”

  He wasn’t sure if Isabel knew every piece of real estate that her father owned, but she probably wasn’t aware that his sister was living in one of her father’s houses. Would this be awkward? Maybe he should have taken her up on her offer to do this errand on his own, but he’d been half-afraid that if he let her off the hook, he’d lose his chance at having her over for dinner, too. Obviously, he hadn’t thought this one through.

  James slowed for an intersection and signaled a turn. “It’s a nice area—safe. Jenny really likes it.”

  James took the last few turns that led up to Raven’s Glen. This area had been too rich for his blood when he was a teen, but as an adult, he could see what everyone else had seen. It was a good neighborhood, well designed and safe. The houses were attractive—unified in appearance, but not identical. Jenny’s home was nestled at the end of a cul-de-sac. As he parked in front of her little yellow house, he noticed the curtain flick.

  “Why don’t you come say hello?” James said, then pushed open his door and got out. Isabel followed suit, and he met her on the other side of the car.

  “This is your
sister’s place?” Isabel frowned toward the house.

  “Yeah, this is it.”

  There was something in her eyes that told him she recognized the place, and he sighed. He might as well be open about the situation.

  “Your father owns it. Jenny has two other friends with special needs, and they live here together. Your father allows them to live here rent-free. He’s very generous.”

  “Hmm.” She nodded. “He really is.”

  James caught the tightness in her tone, but just then the front door opened, revealing Jenny, a letter in her hands.

  “Jimmy, you’re here!” she said loudly. “Come see it. Come look at this.” Jenny looked frantically from James to Isabel, not even bothering to say hello to his friend. “I don’t have money, James. Not enough.”

  “It’s okay, Jenny. Let me see.”

  They walked inside together, James perusing the letter. According to the letter, property taxes hadn’t been paid all year. That didn’t seem right. Mr. Baxter didn’t let these things slide as a rule.

  “Jenny, look.” He pointed to the greeting. “This is addressed to George Baxter, not to you.”

  “But I live here.” Her blue eyes widened, trying to make her point.

  “I know. But you don’t own the house. It belongs to Mr. Baxter.” He sighed. His sister had also lived here for the past three years without paying a cent. “Look, Jenny, I’m going to pay the taxes myself, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

  “Why would you do that?” Isabel spoke up for the first time. “My father will pay it. I’m sure it was just an accounting error. You don’t need to use your own money, James.”

  She made it sound ridiculous, but she didn’t understand exactly how embarrassed he was about this, either.

  “I said I’ll take care of it.” His tone was gruffer than he intended, but this whole situation frustrated him. He wasn’t a charity case, and neither was his sister. When Mr. Baxter refused to accept any rent from the women, James had been amazed at his generosity, and they’d accepted his gift because it benefited all of them, none of whom could afford much at the time. James was still paying off some expensive student loans, and a small-town lawyer didn’t exactly roll in money. It had been a tough time all around, but things were improving now. That student loan was paid off and James could take care of this. In fact, he’d already written the checks to start paying rent on his sister’s behalf.

  Isabel cast him a mildly confused look, which he ignored. He folded the letter and put it into his pocket. “It’s going to be fine, Jenny.”

  “You sure?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Positive. I’ll take care of it. Now, what do you ladies have planned for the evening?”

  “We’re watching You’ve Got Mail and making sundaes.”

  “Well, don’t let me intrude.” He nudged his sister’s shoulder. “I’ve got to get going, but I’ll talk to you later, okay, Jen?”

  “Sure. Thanks, Jimmy.”

  Jenny was the only one who could get away with calling him Jimmy now, at least with his permission. Britney Baxter had picked up on the nickname and used it, too, and he’d let it slide. A wise lawyer didn’t annoy his biggest client’s wife. As he and Isabel made their way back out to the car, he caught the strange look that Isabel shot toward the house.

  “It was a really kind gesture from your father,” James said after they were settled in their seats. “Jenny and her roommates were in a trailer park before this. It wasn’t safe for them. Every other day, the cops were going out there for a domestic violence call for their neighbors, or some fight between drunk guys. I was afraid something would happen to her.”

  “Why doesn’t she live with you?” Isabel asked.

  “She won’t. She says she’s an adult, and she wants her own space.”

  Isabel nodded. “Fair enough. Can’t say I blame her.”

  “Your father is tough,” James said. “He wants things done his way right away, and I respect that. But under that tough shell is a very kind man. I’m sure you know that.”

  Isabel smiled wanly. “I do, but James, I can’t let you pay those taxes. This house...” She glanced back as they pulled away from the curb and headed down the road. “I’ve got a personal connection to this house.”

  “Oh?” James had been afraid that things were about to get complicated. He signaled a turn down the main Raven’s Glen road that led out of the community.

  “Don’t worry about it, but I’ll talk to my father. Jenny will never be bothered by this again, I promise.”

  Silence stretched out between them while James rolled this new information over in his mind. He’d never been completely comfortable with her father’s generosity, and this raised new concerns.

  “Do you mind if I ask what your connection is?” he asked.

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter that much.” She smiled quickly. “Now, what about this steak you promised me?”

  Not every piece of her history was his business, and for the time being, he let the topic drop. He had a nagging suspicion, however, that things were about to get incredibly awkward. His plan was to keep everything professional, but with Isabel, he kept sliding past that and into the personal without even thinking. He didn’t want to end up as one of her casualties, one of her offhanded apologies later on. Oops. Sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin your life, James.

  CHAPTER TEN

  JAMES LIVED IN A little farmhouse outside town, a squat, single-level, two-bedroom house that sat on three acres of land. It had been the center of a large farm about sixty years ago, but the land had been sold off as the town expanded until his little plot was all that was left.

  James normally made decisions logically, but when he bought this house, it was a purely emotional purchase. There was something about the tiny rooms, the warped glass in the windows and the ruggedness of the surrounding land that tugged at him until he made an offer. A low offer. The owners took it, and he moved in.

  There had been times in the past year that he’d wondered if he’d made a mistake. Old houses might have history, but they also had wear and tear, and this one was no exception. It seemed like everything was on its last legs in that house, and every evening and weekend was spent driving to the hardware store and watching online how-to videos on everything from plumbing to roofing. He’d never been a terribly handy guy—he was more of the book-smart type—but by the end of his first year of home ownership, he could fix pretty much anything, and there was a certain satisfaction in that.

  “Make yourself at home,” James said as they came inside. He flicked on a light and moved through the little sitting room toward the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I’m going to start cooking.”

  “Me, too.” Isabel followed him into the kitchen, letting her eyes roam around the petite space. The counters were all originals, gold-flecked Formica. The cupboards were small, the counter space narrow and the sink gigantic. It suited him just fine.

  “You like small spaces, too,” she said.

  “Not quite as small as yours.” He chuckled as he deposited the grocery bag onto the counter and began to unpack. “These old places were definitely smaller.”

  “People didn’t expect as much,” she said.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed. “People worked for what they got, and they worked hard.”

  “Hmm.” She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “I never did have to work too hard for anything.”

  He glanced over. “I didn’t mean it as a criticism.”

  “I know,” she replied. “But it’s true. My father had money, and I had—” She sucked in a breath and didn’t finish the thought. “I didn’t have to work for it. Everything landed in my lap.”

  He was surprised that she’d admit to that, especially after he’d accused her of being spoiled. Ne
ither was he sure how to respond, so he turned his attention to opening the meat packages and flicking on the gas burner on the stove. After a moment, he glanced over to find her watching him.

  “The money isn’t the problem,” he said. It was her tendency to take advantage of people and use them for her own gain.

  “But there is definitely something wrong with taking it for granted,” she conceded.

  He felt a smile tug at his lips. “All right. I’ll give you that.”

  She eyed him skeptically. “My father obviously likes you a lot, and he isn’t a cuddly kind of guy. He’s rather brash. He doesn’t tend to get along with—”

  “Regular Joes?” James asked, amused. He couldn’t help but wonder how a woman like Isabel saw a man like him. Did she even notice him as a man, or was that swallowed up in his social station?

  “I always say the wrong thing.” She blushed and gestured to the steaks. “Can I help?”

  “Chop these.” He slid a knife and some mushrooms in her direction, and her flingers slid softly over his as she took the knife from him. Their eyes met and James felt that old longing from high school rising up inside him again. He’d always felt a surge of longing when he looked at her. His mind had been stronger than his heart, unlike his cousin’s, but he was surprised at how little had changed. She was still out of his league, and he was still attracted to her. He pulled his mind back to the conversation.

  “You’re right,” he said, reaching for the pepper. “Your father isn’t cuddly, but he’s honest and fair. I’m not exactly a teddy bear, either. I’m a lawyer. I’m at home in a courtroom, duking it out.”

  “You sound like the son he always wanted.” She chuckled wryly.

  There was something in her tone that drew his gaze, and he found her focused grimly on the mushrooms, chopping more forcefully than necessary.

  “He doted on you,” he countered. “Everyone knew it.”

  She raised her eyebrows and glanced back at him. “Doting on and respecting are two different things.” She paused, then sighed. “I’m well aware that I’ll have to convince him that I’m capable or he won’t leave me the company.”