No One Like You (6 page)

“Hot damn. A classic push mower,” Landon shouted from the shed. He sounded excited. He appeared moments later, pushing a manual reel mower. “My granddad belongs to an old lawn mower club in Milwaukee. This model is rare. The handle’s solid, but the blades need to be sharpened. I’m hoping Rylan has a sharpening stone in the garage.”

Halo was right behind Landon. “The edge shears need to be oiled. I’ll check for tool lube. The pole pruner seems okay, although the rope’s twisted.”

The lawn equipment was ancient, Beth thought. They’d be putting brawn and muscle into cleaning up the yard. It was a project that would last longer than planned. The weather was temperate, yet they would still work up a sweat.

She couldn’t believe these elite athletes were choosing yard work instead of the beach. They would be instantly recognized the moment they stepped onto the sand. Women’s fingers would itch to rub suntan oil on their bodies. They would’ve gotten lucky.

Instead of bikinied babes and slick skin, they cornered the cottage on their way to the garage. The two moved around Rylan’s property as if they owned the place. Beth wondered what Ry would think of such familiarity. She hoped he wouldn’t mind.

Halo and Landon were hyped to work when they returned to the yard a short time later. They had slipped on heavy duty leather work gloves to avoid blisters. Landon carried a sharpening stone and Halo a rusted can of WD-40.

Once the equipment was in working order, Landon called to her. “We’ll start at the back boundary and progress toward the porch. We should have enough room for the volleyball and croquet courts.”

We
. It had become a group project. The guys were being supportive. Her initial angst left her, yet niggling suspicion lingered. She still felt they had a hidden agenda for being at the cottage. If so, it would eventually be revealed.

Beth went inside, Atlas on her heels. The big dog sat down in the kitchen and stared at the stove . . . as if he was waiting for food to come out of the oven.

“I owe you biscuits, don’t I? I could make them now.”

Atlas gave a happy bark.

She retrieved the doggie cookbook from the counter where she’d left it, scanned the index, and flipped to the Treats section. The recipe for peanut butter biscuits had a big star in the upper right-hand corner of the page. She figured it was a favorite of the dogs.

She preheated the oven and lightly greased a baking sheet, then selected a large mixing bowl and located a spatula. She went to work. Atlas rested his chin on the counter, sniffing as she measured and stirred together the egg yolk, peanut butter, and honey. Once the ingredients were thoroughly blended, she added the rice flour and wheat germ. Atlas smacked his lips.

She next turned the dough out on a floured board and rolled the mixture to a one-quarter inch thickness. Using a medium-size dog-shaped cookie cutter she’d found in the cupboard, she cut out the shapes and set them on the baking sheet. Before putting them in the oven to bake, she brushed the tops with egg white.

Atlas tried to snag an uncooked treat. He would’ve eaten the batter raw had she let him. She did not. She held the baking sheet over her head—which was awkward. She wasn’t going to let him get the better of her. She opened and closed the oven door without his interference. She patted him on the head, praised his patience.

Cooking time was twelve minutes, followed by cooling on a wire rack. He would have to wait a while longer.

Beth headed for her office. She could accomplish a lot in a short time. She settled on the edge of her chair and Atlas settled at her feet. She turned on the computer and went to e-mail. According to the information listed under Ry’s brother Dune, besides professional volleyball, he also ran a local volleyball clinic.. She took a chance and sent him a message, asking to borrow a net, poles, and volleyballs for the picnic. She fired off a second e-mail to Shaye, hoping she had a croquet set. If neither responded, she’d move to Plan B and rent the necessary equipment.

Beth was surprised when Shaye and Dune responded within minutes. Both would be in the neighborhood shortly and could drop off her recreational requests. Beth was relieved, clicked on REPLY, and thanked them.

She then called Ava Vonn and extended Rylan’s invitation to dinner. The woman gushed her acceptance and shared her relief at not being hired. She confided that Rylan would never date his employee. The woman planned to see him often—which was more information than Beth cared to hear.

She told Ava she would get back to her once the reservation was set. By the time their phone call ended, Beth had a knot in her stomach. Ava made her uncomfortable. She sounded possessive. And far too sure of herself.

The scent of peanut butter drifted in from the kitchen. Atlas woofed and trotted back to the stove. Beth had two phone calls yet to make—to the restaurant and the barber shop. She would get to them shortly. She didn’t want the dog treats to burn.

She shut down the computer, slipped on her discarded Keds, which were under the desk, and left her office.

Halo and Landon burst through the back door just as she was removing the biscuits from the oven. She set the hot tray on a wire rack to cool then looked at the men. Sweat dampened Landon’s brow. Leaves stuck to Halo’s T-shirt. They smelled like the outdoors—mowed grass and sunshine.

Rue and the dachshunds trailed in behind them.

“I could use a beer.” Landon removed his gloves and crossed to the refrigerator.

“Peanut butter cookies look good.” Halo popped a warm dog treat into his mouth before Beth could stop him.

Atlas grumbled loudly.

“What’s with him?” asked Halo.

“You, uh, ate one of his biscuits.”

Halo’s chewing slowed, but he didn’t spit out the treat. “Organic?”

“The ingredients won’t hurt you.”

Halo swallowed. “Not bad.” He broke a second treat in half to make sure it had fully cooled. “Here big guy,” he said, handing it to Atlas. The Dane took it.

“Cold one?” Landon asked Halo.

Halo nodded, and Land tossed him a BrewDog.

“Do you want a glass?” Beth offered.

“Bottle’s fine,” said Halo.

“We haven’t had lunch,” Landon said next. “Any chance of a sandwich?”

Beth looked up from feeding the dogs their treats. The tray of biscuits was almost gone. Atlas scarfed three treats for every one consumed by the other dogs.

The Dane went after Beth when he’d finished his snack. She was ready for him, dish towel in hand. She cleaned off his face before he could wipe his mouth on her cutoffs. Atlas wagged his tail.

She crossed to the refrigerator, nudging Landon aside. Rylan ate as healthy as his dogs, she noted. There were lots of fruits, vegetables, cheeses, along with a Ziploc of organic sliced chicken breast. She pursed her lips, debated what to fix the men. A quick look in the bread box, and she decided on eight-grain bagels with melted cheese.

“That’s it? One grilled cheese bagel and a pear?” Halo grunted when she passed him a plate. He sat next to Landon on a soda fountain stool at the kitchen island. His face was pinched as if he was starving to death. “I’m a growing boy, sweetheart.”

“I’ll feed you but I won’t fatten you up,” she said.

“I’d work better after two sandwiches,” Halo insisted

“One.” She stood firm. She had no idea how Rylan would react to her feeding his teammates or to their drinking his imported beer.

Halo was on his second. The guys tended to take over, whether they meant to or not.

The chiming of the doorbell sent Atlas scrambling. He beat Beth to the front door by the length of his tail. She looked through the glass. A pretty blonde with curly hair and rainbow-framed sunglasses stood on the porch. A rectangular wooden storage box labeled
CROQUET
was propped against her hip. Shaye Cates-Saunders had arrived.

Beth opened the door, and Atlas once again bounded past her to get to Shaye.

“Hello Big Lug,” Shaye greeted the dog. Atlas danced around her. She smiled at Beth. “I’m Shaye, Rylan’s sister.”

“I’m Beth Avery, Ry’s PA.”

Before the women could speak further, a white van pulled into the driveway. C
ATES
V
OLLEYBALL
C
LINIC
was highlighted in black on the panel door. The rear doors were cracked, and metal poles were visible. A red flag hung from the ends.

A very tall, lean man in jeans and a gray T-shirt climbed out. His shirt had a picture of a volleyball and the script
Go for the Kill.
He walked around the hood and opened the passenger side door. A pretty, petite, very pregnant woman in a light green sundress stepped out. The man curved his arm about her shoulders and held her close as they crossed to the porch. He matched his longer stride to her shorter steps.

“My brother Dune and his wife Sophie,” Shaye said as the couple approached. “This is Beth Avery, Rylan’s assistant.”

Sophie gave Beth a soft smile. “Rylan is a busy guy.”

“My brother’s organized, but his life can be overwhelming.” Dune appealed to Beth, “A confidential request, please. I’d consider it a personal favor if you could find an hour or two for him to relax each night. Close off his life to the public.” It was obvious Dune cared about his brother. Recently retired from playing professional beach volleyball, Dune understood the importance of privacy and downtime. Of exhaling and rejuvenating.

“I’ll do my best,” Beth said.

“Hey, look who’s arrived.” Halo appeared in the doorway. He crossed to Dune and thumped him on the back. He smiled at Shaye and said, “Hi, Mom,” to Sophie.

Sophie blushed.

Shaye caught sight of Landon as he came to stand behind Halo. “Look who’s already here.” She raised one eyebrow over their T-shirts. “
Family,
really?”

“Ry-man is like a brother to us,” said Landon.

“A brother who’s not home.” Shaye eyed the men suspiciously. “So why are you here?”

“We didn’t know he was away when we dropped by,” Halo said. “We hadn’t planned to stay long, but Beth begged us to help with the picnic.”

Shaye glanced at Beth. “She did, did she?”

“Begged them on bended knee,” Beth said straight-faced.

That made Halo smile. “She got us to volunteer.”

“To do what?” asked Dune.

“Yard work,” said Beth.

“Landon’s mowing and I’m trimming,” said Halo.

Dune looked uneasy. “You trust them with a mower and trimmer?”

“It’s a push mower and rope operated pole saw,” Beth informed him.

“Still, there are blades,” said Shaye.

“We’re being careful.” Landon glanced at the van. “Can we help you unload the volleyball equipment?”

Dune nodded. “There are poles, a net, two volleyballs and a pole hole digger. There’s a tape measure in the glove compartment to mark off the court. I picked up bags of mulch to mark the side and back lines.”

“I’m on it.” Landon went down the steps two at a time and jogged toward the van.

Dune gazed fondly down on his wife. “Go sit inside, Sophie. Put your feet up.”

She nodded, and he went after Landon.

“I’ve got the croquet set.” Halo took it from Shaye. He shouldered the box; headed back through the house.

The women remained on the front porch. “When is your baby due?” Beth asked Sophie.

Sophie placed her hand on her tummy, smiled. “Mid-July. You’d think I was delivering today the way Dune hovers.”

The man was protective of his woman. Beth liked that fact. “Boy or girl?”

“Dune said he didn’t have a gender preference, but when the doctor announced we were having a boy, my husband jumped as high as he once did when spiking a volleyball for match point.”

“Congratulations.” Beth held the front door open for Sophie and Shaye. “You’re welcome to sit on the couch, although it’s a bit lopsided,” she said to Sophie. “Or you might prefer a kitchen stool.”

“A stool is fine,” Sophie said as she entered the house. “I’ll have a good view of my husband and the yard.”

“Are you all moved in?” Shaye asked Beth as they passed through the living room. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m in and settled. I’m comfortable,” Beth assured her. Her wants were few. She could survive most anything for eight weeks.

The women reached the kitchen. Atlas continued to stick to Beth’s side, bumping her as they walked. The other dogs had returned to the back porch. All three were awake and actively watching the lawn work and the construction of the volleyball court.

Shaye stood at the door. “Halo set the croquet box near the banyan tree,” she noted. “Should I set it up for you? I know the spacing and dimensions. I have a free hour.”

Beth liked Shaye. Her assistance was appreciated. “That would be great. I can check croquet off my list.”

“Is your list long?” Shaye asked. “You seem to be going all out. Rylan’s previous picnics were eat and run. He grilled hot dogs and hamburgers, and we stood and ate. There was small talk, but no activities.”

Beth questioned herself. “Am I doing too much?”

“You’re putting together the perfect picnic.” Shaye sounded confident. “Volleyball is a big sport in our family. I kick butt in croquet.”

Beth was relieved. She didn’t want to overdo it.

Shaye tilted her head, looked out the kitchen window. “Halo and Landon like to play; they’re not usually so helpful. Makes me wonder why.”

“They haven’t said. I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Rylan is an actual grown-up in a sport of overgrown boys. He and Brody Jones are the most stable players. Ry’s the oldest team member and Brody’s married. All the players get serious on game day, but trouble always follows Halo and Landon from the ball park.”

Beth smiled. “I can believe that.”

“How are you doing with the dogs?” Shaye next asked.