Hot Property (7 page)

It would take the entire morning just to
clear away the clutter in front of her. With the phone calls, she’d
be busy until early afternoon when she had appointments to show
houses every hour until six o’clock.

Keeping busy, the medicine she needed to
ward off thoughts of Skylar Blakewood. An excellent way to avoid
Mary as well. Maybe tomorrow she could think of another way to
convince her partner to take on Skylar as her very own client
without a round of questions.

Chapter Five

Mary volunteered to take over as Skylar’s
Realtor. No explanation as to why she was suddenly willing to take
on the task. Betsy didn’t press her luck by tossing her
questions.

The next few days whirled by leaving Betsy
feeling more comfortable. She’d been so busy showing houses she
barely had time to give Skylar Blakewood more than a passing
thought. She was surviving just fine without him. With a little
luck, she might get used to the void deep within her.

“You’re not going to like this.” Mary caught
Betsy late Friday afternoon when she came into the office after a
full day of showing houses.

“Sounds like I better sit down.” Betsy
dropped into a chair in front of Mary’s desk. Braced for Mary’s
news, she proceeded. “Okay, give it to me.”

“Skylar Blakewood wants to see you.”

Betsy felt her throat closing, her body
plopped into a pressure cooker. As if that wasn’t enough, her
insides tingled with excitement. But she was determined to fight
all the powerful sensations invading her body.

“Well I don’t want to see him.”

“He made it sound like it was urgent.”

Betsy sat tall in spite of her exhaustion.
But not so tired she was ready to cave in to this request. “Why
didn’t you tell him you’re representing him now?”

Mary sat back in her seat and crossed her
thin arms over her chest. She almost looked like she was pouting
for being scolded. “I tried. But the man insisted on seeing you.
Six thirty tonight on the hill.”

Don’t panic, Miss Sensible ordered. You can
handle him. Just remember to listen to your head instead of your
heart and you’ll do just fine.

Betsy glanced at her watch. Five o’clock.
She had a five fifteen appointment. If she finished by six, she’d
have enough time to stop home, shower, and slip into something more
suitable for climbing that hill.

The five fifteen appointment lasted longer
than Betsy had planned; leaving no time for the shower she needed,
more for revitalization than cleansing. She took time to change
into a tee shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

It was already six-thirty by the time she
fired up the engine on her sports car and was on her way. Why
hadn’t she sent Mary to meet Skylar? How dare he insist she meet
him at six-thirty? What if she had another appointment? She didn’t,
but that didn’t mean she should be speeding toward that peak on the
hill. The hill the man snatched right out from under her. Unfair.
The man had no idea how desperately you wanted that land. If he
knew, would it have made a difference?

As Betsy maneuvered the car around the last
curve in the road, she expected to see old Betsy parked alongside
the road.

“Five minutes late and the guy takes off,”
Betsy said to herself after checking the digital clock on the
console.

But as she eased her foot off the
accelerator and coasted off the side of the road, she saw a dirt
road had been cut through the weeds and trees. Her gaze followed
its path up the side of the hill to the top where old Betsy was
parked.

Betsy turned the steering wheel and gently
tapped the accelerator to start the climb. The entire time the car
crept upward, she had the air conditioner on high. A vent tilted
toward her face, blasting it with cold air in an attempt to relieve
the sudden heat wave bombarding her.

She pulled in alongside the pickup, shut
down the engine and took a peak at herself in the rearview mirror.
The almond colored lipstick was smeared from her nervously biting
on the corner of her lip throughout the drive. She attempted to fix
it with a trembling fingertip. Her mascara appeared okay but her
hair had been blown every which way from the air conditioning. She
fixed it the best she could with her fingers before a sweaty palm
reached for the door handle just as the door opened.

When Betsy peered up, she was looking into
his warm blue eyes.

Skylar’s smile appeared as if he were
relieved to see her. “I was about to give up on you.”

“My last appointment ran late,” Betsy
explained even though she felt she owed him none.

Skylar reached in and grasped her hand to
help her out. The mere touch caused her internal organs to go
haywire. As she stood, if it weren’t for his grip on her, Betsy
knew she would’ve fallen since her legs had turned to jelly,
again.

“Sorry for the short notice, but I couldn’t
postpone seeing you any longer.”

The man stood so close that Betsy could feel
his breath on her. The scent of his cologne floated all around her,
intoxicating her to the point where she felt she might be
considered drunk.

She felt hypnotized as she stared into those
large pupils of his. She broke the trance by focusing further south
on him.

He wore a button down shirt and a new
looking pair of jeans. No, she ordered herself. She couldn’t focus
on his beautifully proportioned body either. It would make her
fantasize about what he’d look like naked.

A deep breath to put stamina back in her
wilting body and she was able to step out around him and set her
sights on empty space.

“What’s the big emergency to see me?”

“Not really an emergency. But I thought
you’d want to hear about my changes to the house plans.”

Betsy turned back to him. “Changes?”

Stepping up alongside her, he used his hand
to point directions. “I thought I’d add a solarium on the west end
of the house here. What do you think?”

“You’re talking about a higher price
tag.”

“Betsy--” He cut himself off and took her
hand in his again, guiding her toward the rear end of old Betsy. “I
hope you haven’t eaten.”

Of course she hadn’t. Not a thing all day,
which made the smorgasbord he had laid out on the tailgate even
more appealing.

“What is this?” she gasped.

“Looks like food to me.” Skylar gathered two
lawn chairs from the bed of the truck and opened them near the
tailgate. “I made most of it myself.”

“You cook?”

“When I have time.” Skylar filled a china
plate with fried chicken, potato salad, coleslaw and a biscuit.

“This must have taken you all day.”

“Not at all. The apple pie took the longest.
I have yet to master getting the dough to stay in one piece long
enough to get it in the pie pan.”

He handed her a plate and picked up another
to fill for himself. As he did, Betsy sat down, too stunned to
speak.

Skylar finished fixing his plate and sat on
the chair next to her about to bite into a chicken leg when he
looked over at her. “Go ahead and dig in. I promise it’s
edible.”

Everything looked and smelled delicious, but
Betsy couldn’t eat before posing the question that was on the tip
of her tongue since she saw the display of food.

“Why did you do this?”

Skylar dropped his drumstick and stared at
his plate instead of Betsy’s questioning eyes. “I thought a peace
offering might rectify my rude behavior the other night.” His eyes
met hers. “You were nice enough to bring me dinner and--”

“That was my own fault for not checking with
you first.”

“Okay then, it’s for stealing that kiss. I
really am sorry about that, Betsy. I’ve always made it a rule never
to mix business and pleasure. It leads to problems.”

Betsy swallowed hard before braving a look
his way. “I agree completely.”

“Good. We’ll consider this meal a business
dinner. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” There, she said it. Now if her
body would just cooperate and function normally around him, Betsy
believed she might be able to work with the man after all.

She bit into a piece of the tender dark meat
and chewed slowly to savor the taste. “This is delicious,” she told
him before her next bite.

“Thank you.”

“Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Skylar had a mouthful of potato salad and
held up his hand in a gesture for her to wait for him to empty his
mouth. “I taught myself.”

Betsy wrinkled her brow, giving his answer a
moment of thought before responding. “That doesn’t surprise
me.”

“Mom worked long hours when I was growing
up. Being the oldest of three brothers, who were always hungry,
left me with the job of getting supper on the table.”

A powerful tugging sensation worked at the
core of Betsy’s heart as she listened to the sadness in his tone.
“It must have been hard having so much responsibility at such a
young age.”

Skylar stood up and pulled the bottle of
champagne he had chilling from the bucket of ice. He filled two
long-stemmed glasses with the clear bubbly, handed Betsy one, then
spoke. “It played havoc on my social life.” He smiled. But Betsy
saw the underlying sadness he attempted to hide with the smile.
“Seriously though, without those tough years, I probably never
would’ve pushed so hard to get where I am today.”

“Would that be a terrific cook or successful
businessman?”

He chuckled before his mouth narrowed with
seriousness as did his eyes. “I’ve made it to the top of my
profession. I could retire right now if I wanted to.”

“And do what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know-travel. Maybe get
married and have a few kids.” His eyes searched Betsy’s. “I haven’t
figured out why I’ve been having thoughts about getting married
lately.”

Betsy couldn’t breathe and quickly tipped
the glass to her lips to divert her eyes away from the magnetizing
glare of his. But when she swallowed, the fluid got stuck in her
throat and she started coughing to keep from choking.

Skylar’s expression radiated panic. Betsy
threw up her arm to let him know she was okay.

“You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t think my cooking was that bad,”
came out in a joking manner. But Betsy saw genuine concern in his
eyes.

“It was the champagne. Must have gone down
the wrong pipe, I guess.”

She watched him relax a bit as he eased back
down in his chair. She couldn’t help notice him glance at his
watch. “Are you expecting someone to join us?”

“No.”

“I saw you checking your watch.”

He heaved a disgruntled sigh. “Yeah, well, I
promised to meet Stephanie at the club for a drink later.”

Betsy’s heart plummeted to her feet. And as
it slowly beat its way back to its proper location, she felt a
surge of strength combined with anger and a whole lot of hurtful
feelings stampeding through her all at once. Was it because of
Stephanie he suddenly had thoughts of getting married?

A sick sort of churning sensation landed in
the center of her stomach. She feared if she didn’t do
something-anything, she might bring up the food she hadn’t had time
to fully digest.

“I have to be going anyway,” she told him as
she put her plate on the tailgate.

“But you haven’t had dessert.”

“I’m sorry. The meal was splendid, but I-I
promised a client--”

“I understand.” Skylar looked more
disappointed than disturbed. Betsy ordered her stomach to calm
itself as she watched him reach into the backend of old Betsy and
pick up the apple pie. “If you really must go, I insist you take
this.”

“The whole pie?”

“We could share a piece over coffee in the
morning,” Skylar said. “What time should I stop by?”

What’s with this guy, Betsy wondered. He was
about to propose marriage to Stephanie Rogers and here he was
inviting himself for breakfast at her house.

She was tempted to tell him seven would suit
just fine. Her stomach even felt better thinking she’d see him
again first thing in the morning.

Have you totally lost your mind woman, Miss
Sensible made her presence known after a long period of peaceful
silence. What happened to the agreement the two of you made earlier
anyway?

“I don’t think sharing breakfast is such a
good idea,” Betsy heard herself say.

A moment of silence.

“Suppose you’re right,” Skylar agreed as if
he’d read her mind. “But I still want you to have the pie. What you
can’t eat now, you can freeze.”

“I didn’t know you could freeze pie. But
then I’m no Susie Homemaker.” She smiled as she picked up the
dessert and started for her car.

“I’ll give you a call once I get the house
under roof.”

Betsy glanced over her shoulder at him with
the thought the man was thinking of anything he could to keep her
from leaving.

“Any time you want to bring a potential
buyer up before then is fine with me.”

Betsy forced back the unexplainable tears
coming in her eyes and put on a smile when she nodded in
acknowledgment before ducking inside her car.

Once she had the vehicle turned around and
headed down the hillside, she looked into the rearview mirror and
saw him standing on the hill, gazing in her direction.

As Betsy turned onto the country road, she
used the back of her hand to dry her cheeks and sniffled back
several times, but the floodgates were unable to hold back the
salty tasting liquid rolling down her cheeks and into her
mouth.

At the intersection, she rammed the
gearshift into park and let her head droop over the steering wheel.
She cried until her eyes squeezed out the final tear. She continued
to sob as she slowly raised her head so she could see herself in
the mirror.

“Good grief!” she gasped at the frightful
face staring back at her.