Page 47 of Falling for the Grumpy Stranger

He didn’t answer right away, which wasn’t a good thing.

“We’re at an impasse. Christine is insisting on twenty percent more. She’s out of control.”

“You’re telling me. She showed up here. She’s renting a beach cottage, and she dropped by unannounced.”

I could hear paper crinkling. “Let me write that down. So, she’s there in—in—where did you say you were again?”

“Whisper Cove. Look up Grimstone Manor and you’ll see the dilapidated gem I’ve saddled myself with. Comes with a century-old curse and everything.”

“Jeez, Rhett, why are you punishing yourself like that? Why don’t you find a nice place on the East Coast, a nice Manhattan penthouse?”

“Doesn’t interest me in the least, and crummy house and all, this small town has grown on me. It would be perfect if ‘she who shall not be named’ hadn’t shown up. I don’t know what she’s up to. She always had that evil, untrustworthy side to her, but now she’s worse.”

“Do you think she’ll try something nuts? Do you think she’ll try to kill you?”

I chuckled. “Not sure I love the enthusiasm in your tone.”

He laughed, too. “Sorry, long day. Of course, I don’t want that to happen, but if she attempted it or showed some sign that she needs a restraining order, then it would help our case with the judge. I’d go for everything then and send her off broke and crying.”

“Not sure if she’s the crying type. No assassination attempt yet but we might talk about a restraining order. But for now, I’ve got to buy a jar of spaghetti sauce for a special dinner.”

“Sounds special all right. I go straight to the Ragu whenever I have a special dinner lined—Wait a minute. Are you seeing someone?”

“I am. Is that going to be a problem for the settlement? Because if so, tough. Not giving her up.”

“Wow. Sounds serious. I’m happy for you, and no, it shouldn’t be a problem. The two of you are separated, and we all know the catalyst for the divorce in the first place. I don’t think a judge would hold it against you. Now if she comes at you with an ice pick, then we’re talking.”

“I’ll try to record it on my phone if it happens. Talk to you later. Keep me posted and try to have better news next time.”

“I’ll try.”

My errands were taking longer than I expected. I sent a text off to Ella. “I’m out getting dinner ingredients. I left the door unlocked. Just go in. I promise a big fire when I get there.”

She wrote back as I headed into the store. “I was just on my way to the manor. See you soon, and I’m expecting all kinds of fire from my hot boyfriend.” She added a few flame emojis and a heart. I sent a heart back and smiled as I put the phone in my pocket. Maybe all was not lost in my life after all.

Chapter Thirty-Five

ELLA

Ipulled my scarf up higher to cover my nose and mouth. Just like that, the weather on the cove had changed from a nice, mild morning to an afternoon that looked far more like winter … in the North Pole. The temperature had dropped a good twenty degrees, and an irritating wind with a glacial feel had started explosive bursts all around town. The inside of the car was already so cold it was hard to hold onto the steering wheel. I considered running back inside to get my gloves and beanie, but I didn’t want to mess up my freshly washed hair. It was only a short drive, so I decided to forge ahead without gloves.

Or at least that was the plan. I turned the key five times and nothing. My crummy little car had betrayed me yet again. I smacked the dashboard. “Really, you couldn’t give me just this afternoon before dying?” I tried it twice more in case my plea had helped. Still nothing. At least it had stopped drizzling. It was only a mile. What would Jane Austen’s heroines do? They’d trudge through the dreary weather, and that was my plan, too.

I was pretty good at starting a fire, so I planned to get the fire roaring before Rhett returned from town. I was sure going to need it by the time I reached the house. The clouds acted almost as a blanket, making the air slightly warmer than out by the cove.I dropped my face and hiked toward the manor. There’d be a delicious spaghetti dinner and a very handsome man at the end of it.

The house always looked more uninviting with the clouds behind it, but I’d grown very fond of the place. I hated the idea of it being torn down to rubble. Didn’t seem fair. My hands had been in my coat pockets, but they were still numb from cold as I reached for the door handle. I stomped my boots on the front mat and stepped inside. The house was also much less inviting without Rhett to greet me in the tall entryway.

I hung my scarf and coat on the hook and headed down the hallway to the front parlor where we liked to sit on the sofa in front of the fire. The room was icy cold, and you could hear the wind whistling through the old windows.

I picked up several logs and tossed in some of the garden debris that Rhett had been using as kindling. I lit the long match and tossed it inside.

“She’s even skilled,” a voice said behind me.

I spun around so fast I nearly fell back against the hearth. Christine was standing in the room in a thick ski sweater and skin-tight pants. Her nose crinkled. “How rustic of you.”

“I was invited, but why are you here?” I worked hard not to show any sign of nerves, but the woman gave me the creeps big time.

Her laugh sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m sorry, Ellen.”

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