Switched At Birth Page 4

  Petunias. That was it. She smelled like his mom’s petunias. In the summertime, they always overflowed the hanging baskets on the back deck. He used to love getting his nose right up in them, breathing in that scent that was so sweet it smelled sticky-good—sweet and yet sharp, too.

  And why were they were just standing there in the entry area, staring at each other?

  He broke the hold of her gaze and led the way down the short hall to the half bath. She leaned in the doorway, slim arms folded across her middle, the sunglasses dangling from her fingers, watching as he set his toolbox on the floor. He almost told her she didn’t have to hang around. He’d take care of the problem and let her know when he was leaving.

  But if he told her that, she might turn and walk away. He didn’t want that—even if he had been avoiding her since the other day. She was too tempting, too rich for his blood. And when she was standing close to him like this, well, the temptation was stronger. It overrode his caution.

  He jiggled the handle and it flopped up and down uselessly.

  “Not a big deal,” he said.

  “Great.” Her dimples winked at him.

  He took the lid off the tank and saw that the chain had been broken in two. That chain had zero rust on it or signs of wear. Doubtful it would have broken without help.

  When he slanted Madison a glance, her blue-green eyes were wide and innocent as a cloudless sky. But her dimples told another story. She was trying really hard to hide a grin. She lowered her head and looked at her shoes, her shining hair flowing forward, covering her cheeks.

  Was she blushing? “Where’s your bodyguard?” he asked.

  She straightened, guiding her hair behind her ear on one side. He saw the pink flush on her cheek. Definitely blushing. “I sent him back to LA.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve had security with me round-the-clock for years. I wanted a little privacy for a change. It’s kind of isolated here. And so far, nobody’s bothered me, so...” She let a shrug finish for her.

  He grabbed a pair of needle-nose pliers from the toolkit. “How is it, then, being on your own here?”

  “Dirk’s only been gone a few hours. Check in with me later. I’ll let you know.”

  Sten saluted her with the pliers and then used them to reconnect the chain. “There you go.” He worked the handle. The flapper lifted and the water flowed away, then was quickly replaced by more. They waited in silence until the water shut off. “It’s working fine now.” He dropped the pliers back into the toolbox and bent to latch it shut. Grabbing the handle, he straightened.

  “How about a beer?” she asked, the words rushing to get out, her tone suddenly forceful.

  He faced her. She gazed up at him, dimples nowhere in sight, looking defiant and determined now. Adorably so. He sucked in one more breath of her enticing scent and opened his mouth to say that he really had to go. What came out was, “A beer would be great.”

  * * *

  In the kitchen, which looked out over the deck and the ocean beyond, she put the sunglasses down on the end of the counter, gestured for him to sit and then bounded to the fridge to pull out a couple of Breakside IPAs. The woman knew her beer—or at least somebody who worked for her did. She had chilled beer mugs, too.

  “Help yourself.” She set the full beer bottles and the frosty mugs on the table. “And I have nachos!” She looked so pleased with herself, like Coco with her kiddie oven that she baked imaginary cupcakes in and then made everyone sit at her kid-size table and pretend to eat them off miniature pink plastic plates. “What’s so funny?” Madison was still standing by his chair, watching him.

  “You’re just so enthusiastic, that’s all. It’s cute.”

  She frowned, a line drawing down between her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “Thank you. I think. So...nachos?”

  “I love nachos.”

  “Well, all right then.”

  She bustled around, heating the chips, adding stuff to the cheese sauce, popping it in the microwave. There were jalapeños and olives and onions and black beans that she sprinkled on after she’d poured on the sauce.

  “Ta-da!” She set the platter on the table and gave them each a small plate.

  “It looks great.” And it did.

  “Enjoy.” She sat down in the chair across from him and held up her beer mug. He tapped it with his and they drank. “So, tell me,” she said, tipping her head to the side, her hair falling like a wheat-colored waterfall along one shoulder. “Your name. Sten. Is that a nickname?”

  “Nope. It’s Swedish. Means stone.”

  “Ah.” She seemed to ponder that. God, she was gorgeous. And sweet. And not innocent, exactly, but...open. She seemed fascinated by the most ordinary things. “I like it,” she said. “Because you’re not.”

  He waited for her to explain what she meant by that. When she didn’t, he prompted her. “Not what?”

  “Stone-like. Tell me more. What you do, what you love?”

  He couldn’t figure her out. The magic of her. And that made him edgy. “Is it part of being an actress, to be so interested in every little thing?”

  Those full lips thinned. “Everything I do is not about acting.”

  “Only most things?” It came out kind of snarky and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

  Apparently, she did, too. She aimed a full-out scowl at him. “Don’t make me get pissed at you. Maybe I just like you. Maybe I’m interested in you. Did you ever think of that?”

  He wanted to laugh, of all things. Instead he teased in a flat tone, “Fine. You can like me.”

  She stared at him, her shining eyes narrowed. “I take it back about the stone thing. Now you’re definitely coming off as stone-like. Stop it. Chill. Talk about you. About your family. About the things you build down there in your workshop.”

  He’d spotted her up there on the side deck more than once, wearing a big, floppy hat, using his own binoculars to spy on him. And he’d kind of liked it, her watching him. It had felt like a harmless, never-to-be-acted-on flirtation, somehow—until the other day, when he met her face-to-face and found her way too damn fascinating for his peace of mind.

  “Sten,” she tried again. “What do you make in your workshop?”

  “Cabinets. Molding. Things you put in houses you flip.”

  “You flip houses?” She crunched another nacho. “Tell me about that.”

  “You’re just going to make me ramble on about myself, aren’t you?”

  Her smile was slow and full of sweet devilment. “Oh, yes, I am. You should tell me your life story. Just go ahead and get it over with.”

  He had the feeling she wouldn’t give up on this, so he started talking. He explained that he’d flipped the cottage. “And then I decided to keep it and rent it out.” He told her about his mom, who’d managed a local bakery and always kept a beautiful garden until she died five years ago. He shared way more than necessary about Larson Boatworks, the company his dad had started thirty-five years before. “We do fabrication and remodeling of sport and commercial fishing boats, mostly. I’ve been working with my dad for about six years now. He moved in with me after my mom died.”

  “And before you went to work with your dad?”

  “In college, during school breaks, and for a while after, I worked on small fishing boats up and down the West Coast, from California to the Bering Sea. It’s rough work, commercial fishing. But I loved it.”

  “Why did you quit?”

  “It’s good money, but not good enough. And my dad wanted me to come in on the family business. Eventually, the company will be mine—mine and Karin’s. She runs the office now.” She’d taken over when Ella quit. “I’m there when I’m needed and I can also fool around with real estate and construction.”

  “You’re a busy guy,” she said, and leaned in. “Got a girl, Sten?” She literally twinkled
at him. A princess from a Disney movie, for sure.

  “Damn.” He took a long pull off his beer and set the mug down firmly. “You are nosy.”

  She laughed. “Well, I want to know, so I asked.”

  “There’s no one. Your turn,” he said, before she could ask another question about his currently nonexistent love life. “Make it good,” he instructed. “Tell me something no one else knows.”

  “Wait a minute.” She huffed a breath in pretend outrage. “All I asked for was a bio, but you want my deepest secrets?”

  “That sounds about right to me.” He gazed at her steadily and she stared right back. That special something swirled between them. It felt like a promise of what was to come. Right at the moment, he didn’t care that it was a false promise and nothing was going to happen between them. He was having a good time and she seemed to be enjoying herself, too.

  She leaned in again and stage-whispered dramatically, “You would have to swear never to tell a soul.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.” He put up a hand, to make it look official. “Not a soul.”

  And she launched into this crazy story about how she’d been switched at birth by some local rancher who didn’t want his wife to find out he’d been fooling around. She said she was born into the Bravo family and the switch had happened soon after her birth. “My name should have been Aislinn,” she said.

  Sten knew the Bravos. They were a prominent family in town. He and the second-born brother, Matt, had been in the same grade in school.

  The thing was, now she’d mentioned the Bravos, he really could see a family resemblance. Especially between her and the Bravo sisters, Harper, Hailey and Grace. She looked nothing like Aislinn, the oldest sister. Aislinn had dark hair and eyes—and come to think of it, none of the other Bravos looked much like Aislinn.

  “I came here to get to know them, this family I just found out I have. I’ve been here for days now.” Her husky voice had turned plaintive. “Days. And I can’t quite drum up the nerve to get in touch with them. I mean, they already know about the switch. They reached out to me. They want to meet me. I said I would call or whatever when I was ready. And here I am, in the town where they live. And somehow, I can’t make myself contact them.”

  She looked so lost now, her glittery brightness dimmed. The most beautiful girl in the world, the girl who had everything. Except the family that should have been hers from the first.

  “What can I do?” he asked, and realized he meant it. “How can I help?”

  She sat a little straighter. “You mean that, Sten? Because I really, really want to take advantage of you.”

  “Whatever you want. Name it.” So much for steering clear of her, for playing it cautious and smart. He’d just asked her to use him. And he couldn’t wait for her to tell him what she wanted him to do.

  She sucked in a long breath. “Okay, it’s like this. I’m still not there yet. I’m not ready to go and see my lost family. I need more time. Time here, in this house. Without my PA or my driver or my housekeeper or my security team. They’re all terrific, the best at what they do, but I just don’t want them here, hovering. I want to change up some stuff in my life and I need the time and space to do that.”

  “Madison.”

  She gulped. At that moment she looked so young, young and confused and in need of a friend. “Yeah?”

  “Just tell me what you want from me.”

  “There’s a Subaru Forester downstairs in the garage.” Before he could ask what a Subaru had to do with anything, she chattered on, “My security team had the car rental agency deliver it here before we arrived. It’s actually a getaway car. See, if the media gets on to the fact that I’m here and I need to get away, I need one guy to drive, say, a Hummer or a limo—some big, fancy vehicle—as a decoy. The decoy rides off and the paparazzi chase after him. He leads them all the way to Portland International, where he drops off the Hummer and catches a commercial flight back to LA. And then, once all the reporters have followed the Hummer, another guy will drive me in the Subaru to the local airfield and the private jet that’s waiting there to whisk me away.”

  “So you’re warning me that you’re planning an escape?”

  She laughed. “No, I’m really just saying there’s a Subaru down in the garage and I have the keys to it, but I can’t drive it.” Her cheeks flamed pinker than they had in the half bath, when she’d realized that he knew she’d broken that chain on purpose. “Okay, it’s like this. I let my driver’s license lapse a few years ago. It just never occurred to me that I might want to drive myself somewhere. But now, well, I don’t want any of my people here. And that means, even though I have a Subaru, I have no way to get around. I’m afraid to call an Uber. What if the driver recognizes me? Things will get really hairy if word gets out I’m here.”

  “You want me to drive you somewhere, is that it?”

  “Yeah.” Those eyes of her could make a man do foolish things. “If you would, that would be terrific—well, I mean, when I do get up the nerve to reach out to this family I’ve never met. I’ll pay you, of course, and I—”

  “Stop. You’re already paying me a bundle for this house. I’m not charging you any more than that. I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.” Had he lost it completely? Yeah, probably. But somehow, he couldn’t stop offering to help. “And what about food? You’ll have to get groceries while you’re here.”

  “I’ve got that handled.” She wore a proud little grin. “I can have everything delivered. My credit cards have only my first initial and my last name. Who’s gonna care, as long as they don’t see my face and put it together? I’ll just wear a wig and dark glasses when I answer the door. I figure I can sign fast, grab the groceries and get rid of the delivery guy before he has a chance to see through my disguise.”

  He stared at her, kind of dumbfounded by everything—her, the situation, the way she planned to deal with it. She stared right back at him.

  And then they both burst out laughing.

  That felt good. So good. To be laughing with her at the sheer bizarreness of her world, at the idea that anyone would have to don a disguise just to answer the door.

  When the laughter faded down and the room was too quiet, she waved a hand. “Talk about first world problems, huh? I’ve got a million of those.”

  He shouldn’t ask. But he did. “What’s really going on with you, Madison?”

  She glanced away. But only for a moment. Then she seemed to steel herself. She looked him square in the eye. “Well, beyond finding out I apparently have a big family I never even knew existed, I guess you could say I’m having kind of a life crisis.”

  “How so?”

  “From the age of six, all I ever wanted to do in my life was act.”

  “And you got what you wanted, right?”

  “Yes, I did. I’m one of the lucky ones. I made my dream come true. In the process, though, I seem to have missed out on everything else, you know? So, I’m thinking of quitting acting—or at least of changing things up in a big way. And I, um...” She shifted in the chair, drank the last of her beer and set the mug down hard. “It’s like this, Sten. I really need to get laid.”

  You got it, baby, he somehow managed not to say. But come on. When America’s Darling says she needs to get laid, who wouldn’t volunteer to help her out with that?

  Her blush had deepened to cherry red. “God. I hardly know you and I’m not even drunk.” She covered her face with her hands and squeaked, “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  Her embarrassment only made her all the cuter—and he needed to reassure her, let her know that it was all right, that he liked a woman who said what was on her mind. “Hey.”

  With a hard sigh, she sat up straight and dropped her hands into her lap. “Now you know. I’m a lost cause.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re beautiful and smart and funny and...
true.”

  She looked at him so intently then, as though she needed to see inside his head and be absolutely certain he wasn’t mocking her. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. And believe me, I get it. I mean, I personally get it. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.” He tried to be gentle and tactful with his next question. “So, you’re saying it’s been a long time for you, too?”

  She took forever to respond. And when she finally did, he wondered for a second if he’d heard her correctly.

  “Actually,” she said, “I’m a virgin.”

  Chapter Three

  Sten tried really hard to reconcile what she’d just said with the stunning creature sitting in the chair across from him.

  She was beyond pretty. And she was a star. And what about that nude scene? Her sexy naked body on display at larger-than-life-size all over America. Yeah, she had a shy, little-girl side. But a virgin? No way would he have guessed that.

  “Is it a religious thing?” he asked cautiously.

  She shook her head. “I work a lot. Mostly, I’ve always felt I just didn’t have time for a man. I try to be free and open when I’m acting. Ready for anything, you know? But I’m a lot more cautious in real life. I don’t give my trust easily.” She seemed completely sincere.

  But maybe she was just messing with him.

  It was as if she’d read his mind. “Nope.” She flipped a shining hank of hair back over her shoulder. “Not a joke. And I’m not screwing with your head. I just, well, I like you. You’re easy to talk to. And here I am telling you way more than you ever could have possibly needed to know.” She blew out her cheeks with a huff of breath and then pretended to study her fingernails. “You should run. Run away, fast.”

  “Madison.” She looked up into his eyes—and he gave it up and said exactly what he was thinking. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re too honest, too surprising and much too beautiful.”

  As her smile lit up the room again, someone knocked on the slider. It was Coco, her little face squished against the glass. “It’s open!” Madison waved her in.