She closed the door behind him, then had to fight herself not to peek through the curtains to make sure he made it safely to his truck. He was perfectly capable, she assured herself, and even if he did have a little trouble, he wouldn’t want her watching him. Trent’s pride had taken enough of a beating in front of her today.
She wondered what it would do for his ego to learn that her feelings for him hadn’t changed in the least this afternoon. She still found him the most attractive, most intriguing man she had ever met. The type of man who could make a woman do something incredibly foolish—like fall head over heels for him—if she wasn’t very careful.
That frightening thought made her sink into the rocker. She had come to Honoria to be independent, she reminded herself. On her own. She’d broken an engagement to a man who had wanted to own her, manipulate her, control her—the way her father always had—and she didn’t trust her own judgment when it came to men just now.
She could still remember the ugly fight she’d had with her father when she’d announced to him on the afternoon of her birthday that she had broken off her engagement to Preston. She had known her father favored the engagement, but she hadn’t realized until then just how much he’d been counting on it. Preston, he had informed her, was the son he had always wanted. Whereas she—well, he’d made it pretty clear that the years she’d spent trying to please him, trying to be everything he wanted her to be, had been wasted. He had told her she was passably pretty, but that she would never be able to make it on her own. She was accustomed to money, to physical comfort, to having others take care of her. Just how did she plan to support herself with the frivolous music degree he had paid for?
“I’ll scrub floors, if I have to,” she had answered flatly. “At least I’ll be making my own choices. I’m tired of being your puppet. Nothing I’ve done has ever pleased you, and I’ll be damned if I spend the rest of my life with a man I don’t love just to give you the son you wish I had been!”
The rebellion had been building inside her for a long time—years, really. She’d tried more than once to break away, but had always allowed herself to be brought back around, either by her mother’s tears or her father’s threats. But this time she hadn’t let either of them change her mind.
She had needed to prove to herself that she could get by on her own. Which meant she didn’t need to be getting involved with anyone for a while yet—especially a difficult man like Trent McBride.
5
THAT AFTERNOON with Trent was the last day of leisure Annie had for the next two weeks. She threw herself into her work with a vengeance, as much to distract herself from her worries about the future as for the money she needed. She took on three new piano students and two more cleaning clients, working some days from seven in the morning until eight in the evening. She didn’t mind cleaning—except for a woman named April Penny who never acted quite satisfied with anything Annie did and who seemed annoyed that Annie wouldn’t discuss the personal business of her other clients. But it was the piano lessons she particularly enjoyed.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t make a living giving lessons to only four students.
There were times when she lay in bed, tired and aching, and asked why she was doing this. She didn’t have to work this hard, she reminded herself somberly. She had other options—but all of them involved admitting to herself, if not to her parents, that she couldn’t make it on her own. And that was something she had vowed never to do.
Though she had expected awkwardness from Trent the first time they saw each other after the episode at her house, there was no noticeable change. He’d greeted her politely, replied rather testily that he was fine when she asked about his back, then left for her house without further conversation. When she got home that evening, she found a note telling her that her living-room window had been fixed, and her kitchen chairs glued and stabilized. Whatever it had cost him physically, Trent must have been determined to prove himself capable of keeping up his
end of the bargain.
She could hardly fault him for that, since she knew just how it felt to need to prove something.
She was surprised to find Trent in his father’s office late Friday afternoon two weeks after he’d hurt himself at her house. She was running later than usual and everyone else was gone. Trent was the last person she’d expected to encounter there. “What are you doing?” she asked curiously, watching him stretch a measuring tape across the built-in credenza behind Caleb’s desk.
“Dad and Trevor are remodeling the offices. They want new carpet, furnishings and cabinetry. Trevor’s decided he wants me to do the cabinets.”
“Your brother obviously wanted the best.”
To her surprise, Trent looked a little flustered by her compliment. “I tried to convince him to hire a professional, but he seems to think no one else can give him what he wants. This is just a hobby for me, but Trevor acts like I’m some sort of expert.”
“Trevor has faith in you because he’s seen what you can do—as I have,” Annie said, touched by this glimpse of insecurity. “I’m sure the McBride Law Firm will have the most beautiful cabinets in town.”
He grunted, the way men do when they’re embarrassed. And he looked so cute with a slight flush on his cheeks that Annie had to suppress a totally inappropriate urge to pinch his cheek. She couldn’t help wondering what he would do if she gave in to the impish impulse.
“Don’t let me keep you from your work,” he muttered, pointedly writing numbers on a notepad he’d pulled from the back pocket of his jeans.
She reached for the overflowing wastebasket beneath Caleb’s desk. “I won’t.”
For the next forty-five minutes she went about her business without further conversation with Trent. Which didn’t mean, of course, that she was unaware of him. She knew when he completed the measurements in Caleb’s office and moved to Trevor’s. She heard him moving around in the bathrooms and the reception area, and she made sure to stay out of his way. They performed a rather elaborate dance to make sure they worked in separate rooms, but Annie knew she would never get anything accomplished if Trent was too close by.
She ran out of energy while dusting Trevor’s office. Overwhelmed for a moment by a wave of weariness, she sank onto his sofa and leaned her head back. She would have liked to spend the rest of the evening sitting in her rocker with a book and a cup of tea, but that wasn’t possible. It had been a long day and it still wasn’t over. She needed a few minutes to recharge before she continued. She closed her eyes, took several deep, cleansing breaths and pictured a quiet beach in her mind.
“Are you okay?”
Trent’s deep voice brought Annie’s eyes open in a hurry. She hadn’t even heard him enter the room. “I’m fine,” she assured him, jumping to her feet. “Just resting.”
He caught her arm when she would have bustled past him. “Annie?”
She’d worn a short-sleeve T-shirt with her jeans, so his palm was pressed against bare skin. She felt his warmth, the roughness of calluses, the strength of his long fingers. His head was bent toward her, making her vividly aware of the difference between her five feet three inches and his six-foot height.
The last time she’d stood this close to him, he’d been too distracted by pain even to notice her, and she’d been so concerned about him that she’d hardly been aware of his proximity. At least, she’d tried not to notice. But he was hardly incapacitated this time. In fact, he looked strong and solid and heart-stoppingly virile. She swallowed. “What?”
He searched her face. “You look tired.”