A Wish For Love (Gates-Cameron 2)

“You should think about moving here, like your brother and your aunt. It’s a great place to live. My family’s been in these parts for a long time.”

The talkative salesman went on to describe his family history in lengthy detail. Sharing a smile over the table, Bailey and Mae feigned interest.

Actually, Bailey was relieved that the conversation no longer centered on her own history.

BAILEY PUT A HAND to the back of her neck, tilted her head and winced as her muscles clenched. For the past hour and a half, she’d been hunched over a laptop computer that she’d borrowed from Dean’s office, working on her résumé.

Lacking a desk or table in the cottage, she’d been sitting cross-legged on the bed, the computer in front of her—not exactly an ergonomically desirable position, she admitted. She decided she’d better take a break before her entire body locked in protest.

She pushed the computer aside without turning it off and swung her bare legs over the edge of the bed. She was wearing a loose-fitting knit shorts-set again, her favorite lounging and sleeping apparel. The new carpeting was thick and soft beneath her bare feet. She dug in her toes and stretched luxuriously, shaking the stiffness out of her arms.

Her eyes still closed, she bent to touch her toes. Something tickled her right foot. She opened her eyes to find a large brown spider sitting on top of her foot, inches from her nose.

Bailey let out a scream that should have shattered all the windows in the cottage. A second later, she was standing in the middle of the bed, trembling, and the spider was cowering in one corner of the bedroom.

“Bailey! What is it? What frightened you?”

The deep voice from the doorway was the most welcome sound she’d ever heard.

“Bran!” she gasped, still breathless from her shock. “It’s a spider. It’s huge and it was on my foot. Oh, ugh, I hate spiders.”

He’d looked poised for battle when she’d spotted him in the doorway. Now he relaxed, looking at her in disbelief. “A spider? You let out a scream like that over a spider?”

“I told you, I hate spiders,” she answered defensively. “And it’s a big one. It’s over there. In that corner.”

Bran followed the direction of her pointing, unsteady finger. “That’s a grass spider. They’re harmless.”

“I don’t care. I want it out of here. Please, would you kill it or something?”

“No.”

She stared at him, trying to read his suddenly expressionless face. “You won’t do anything?”

“It won’t hurt you, Bailey. Besides, it’s gone now. Look for yourself.”

Cautiously, she glanced toward the corner. It was empty. There was no sign of the eight-legged intruder.

Resentfully, she turned back to the two-legged one. “Now we don’t know where it is. It could be lurking somewhere just waiting for me to walk barefoot across the floor again.”

“I’m sure that spider is trying to get as far away from you as physically possible,” Bran contended. “It had to be more frightened than you were. Has anyone ever mentioned that you have a bloodcurdling scream?”

Bailey blushed. “Yes. Dean has told me I could wake the dead with it.”

Bran cleared his throat. “Very likely.”

“Sorry, it’s just that when I saw the thing on my foot, I—hey, wait a minute. What are you doing in my bedroom? Darn it, you’ve done it again. Waltzed right in without knocking or anything.”

“When I heard you scream, I thought you needed help. I didn’t think there was time to wait for an invitation.”

“You’re telling me I left the front door unlocked again?” She thought she’d locked it, but she’d been carefully carrying Dean’s computer when she’d entered, which must have distracted her. She really was going to have to be more cautious, she reminded herself.

Bran tilted his head. “Are you going to stand up there all night?”

Her blush deepened. She must look like a fool, standing in the middle of the bed with her tousled hair and bare feet. Bran, on the other hand, looked as elegant and immaculate as ever. She did wonder, however, if he owned any clothing other than that dark shirt and suit.

She climbed carefully off the bed, keeping one eye out for spiders. “I was just going to have a cola,” she said with hastily reclaimed dignity. “Can I get you anything?”

“No. Thank you.”