Page 19 of Courting Catherine
“Whatever sign his moon is in, I still vote for jerk.” C.C. walked over to kiss Lilah’s cheek. “Thanks. Gotta go.”
“C.C.” She waited until her sister turned back. “He has nice eyes. When he smiles, he has very nice eyes.”
Trent wasn’t smiling when he finally managed to escape from The Towers that afternoon. Coco had insisted on giving him a tour of the cellars, every damp inch, then had trapped him with photo albums for two hours.
It had been amusing to look at baby pictures of C.C., to view, through snapshots, her growing up from toddler to woman. She had been incredibly cute in pigtails and a missing tooth.
During the second hour, his alarm bells had sounded. Coco had begun to pump him none too subtly about his views on marriage, children, relationships. It was then he’d realized that behind Coco’s soft, misty eyes ticked a sharp, calculating brain.
She wasn’t trying to sell the house but to auction off one of her nieces. And apparently C.C. was the front-runner, with him preselected as the highest bidder. Well, the Calhoun women were in for a rude awakening, Trent determined. They were going to have to look elsewhere on the marriage market for a suitable candidate—and good luck to him.
And the St. Jameses would have the house, Trent promised himself. By damn they would, with no strings or wedding veils attached.
He started down the steep, winding drive in a controlled fury. When he caught the sound of his own voice as he muttered to himself, Trent decided that he would take a long, calming drive. Perhaps to Acadia National Park where Lilah worked as a naturalist. Divide and conquer, he thought. He would seek out each of the women in their own work space and rattle their beautiful chains.
Lilah seemed to be receptive, he thought. Any one of them would be more so than C.C. Amanda appeared to be sensible. He was certain Suzanna was a reasonable woman.
What had gone wrong with sister number four?
But he found himself heading down to the village, past Suzanna’s fledgling landscape and garden business, past the BayWatch Hotel. When he drove up to C.C.’s garage, he told himself that was what he’d meant to do all along.
He would start with her, the sharpest thorn in his side. And when he was done, she would have no illusions about trapping him into marriage.
Hank was climbing into the tow truck as Trent climbed out of the BMW. “’Lo.” Grinning, Hank pulled on the brim of his gray cap. “Boss’s inside. Got us a nice fender bender over at the visitor’s center.”
“Congratulations.”
“Ayah, we’ve been needing a little bodywork ’round here. Now, once the season picks up, business’ll boom.” Hank slammed the door then leaned his head out of the window, disposed to chat.
For some reason, Trent found himself noticing the boy—really noticing him. He was young, probably about twenty, with a round, open face, a thick down-east accent and a shock of straw-colored hair that shot out in all directions.
“Have you worked for C.C. long?”
“Since she bought the place from old Pete. That’ll be, ah, three years. Ayah. Three years, nearly. She wouldn’t hire me till I finished high school. Funny that way.”
“Is she?”
“Once she gets a bee in her bonnet ain’t no shaking it loose.” He nodded toward the garage. “She’s a mite touchy today.”
“Is that unusual?”
Hank chuckled and switched the radio on high. “Can’t say she’s all bark and no bite, ’cause I’ve seen her bite a time or two. See ya.”
“Sure.”
When Trent walked in, C.C. was buried to the waist under the hood of a late-model sedan. She had the radio on again, but this time it was her hips rather than her boots keeping time.
“Excuse me,” Trent began, then remembered they had been through that routine before. He walked up and tapped her smartly on the shoulder.
“If you’d just...” But she turned her head only enough to see the tie. It wasn’t maroon today, but navy. Still, she was certain of its owner. “What do you want?”
“I believe it was a lube job.”
“Oh.” She went back to replacing spark plugs. “Well, leave it outside, put the key on the bench, and I’ll get to it. It should be ready by six.”
“Do you always do business so casually?”
“Yeah.”
