Forever Hers by Walters, Ednah (new ebook reader .TXT) 📗

the Fitzgerald name is going to convince me of anything, think again.”

“I used a key to get inside the house,” Eddie ground out through clenched teeth, letting the keys dangle on his forefinger. “Where could I have gotten it unless they were given to me by the owners of this house?”

“Show me an ID or I’m shooting.”

Eddie relaxed. People who threatened to shoot most often weren’t shooters.

“Fine. I’m going to reach inside my back pocket for my wallet.” He shifted slowly so he could see her but the glare from the flashlight made that impossible.

“Don’t turn around. Get out of the house first then show it to me from across the threshold.”

Eddie opened the door.

“Leave the stolen goodies behind,” she ordered.

He lowered his left arm and the straps slipped off his shoulder. The bag landed with a thud. As he stepped outside, he caught her reflection on the glass window bordering the rotunda foyer. He couldn’t see her face, but he noticed something that gave him a pause. Her hands were crossed at the wrists, the bottom hand gripping the flash light at a right angle and supporting the one holding the gun. Only cops held guns and flashlights like that when confronting a criminal. She also kept a safe distance from him, making it hard to rush her and disarm her, another precautionary move he learned at the Academy.

“Are you a—?”

The door slammed shut behind him and the locks clicked. The patio light came on at the same time as the ones inside the house, then muffled sounds followed as though she was running away.

Eddie frowned. He might not appreciate being ordered around but he understood the woman’s vigilance. It couldn’t be easy living alone when a burglar was on the loose in your neighborhood. It also took guts to pull a gun on him. Many thugs had tried and lived to regret it.

Maybe he should drive into Sandpoint and find a hotel for the night. He rapped on the door. “Uh, Mrs…uh, I’m leaving now. I’ll come back tomorrow morning and clear up this misunderstanding.”

Footsteps resounded and came closer, and then an eye peered at him through the peep hole. “Just show me your ID.”

Eddie sighed. “Listen. It’s late and I need to crash. We’ll clear everything in the morning. Sorry for waking you up.”

She made an exasperated sound. “I’ve already woken up Lauren, the realtor in charge of this house. She just admitted she forgot to tell me someone would be coming to stay here for a few weeks. All I need is proof that you are who you claim to be then I’ll let you in. She also wants to talk to you.”

This night couldn’t get any crazier. Eddie retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out his ID and held it up for her to read it. The bolts clicked and the door opened.

Eddie didn’t know what he’d expected. It definitely wasn’t a woman in a T-shirt with the words This Is My Zombie Killing Shirt splattered in red across her chest. Skimpy shorts showed off firm and tanned legs, and mussed black hair cut short with bangs gave her an untamable look. Deep blue eyes, startling in their lack of hesitation, stared straight at him without guile and high cheekbones set off a lush mouth with a natural pout. Hot male fantasies could easily be weaved around those lips and some flashed in his head, blindsiding him. She wasn’t classically beautiful. Her unusual face combined with a short hairstyle made her look…interesting. Young.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked.

“Amy Kincaid.” She offered him the cell phone. “Lauren hired me to housesit for your cousin, but I’m also the housekeeper, gardener and cook. Whatever you need, I provide it.”

“A bed would be nice,” he said.

“After you speak with Lauren.” She shook the phone impatiently. “And please, lower your voice?”

Eddie didn’t take the phone or dignify her request to keep his voice low. The thought of spending the next several weeks with this woman was unsettling. “What happened to the other housekeeper?”

“I never met her, but I was told she moved to Florida to live closer to her daughter and her new grandchild. I’m just as efficient as she was.” She raised the phone again and smiled, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Lauren is still waiting and so is your bed.”

Eddie took the cell phone then slowly brought it to his ear, his eyes not leaving hers.

“Yeah,” he barked on the phone.

“Mr. Fitzgerald, please accept my apology. My name is Lauren Holliday with Waterfront Resort Rentals. I got a call from Kara that you’d be arriving later this week, but I hadn’t gotten around to forwarding that message to Amy. I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you.”

“It’s my fault I arrived a few days early.”

“Oh, okay. Well, Amy is an amazing cook and she’s very efficient. She comes with glowing credentials and will take good care of you,” the faceless Lauren continued.

“I don’t need a cook or to be taken care of, Ms. Holliday,” Eddie said, noticing how Amy Kincaid stiffened and a flash of panic zipped through her eyes. Or maybe he’d imagined it; he decided when her eyes narrowed and her chin thrust forward. “What I need is a bed.”

“What do you mean you don’t need her, Mr. Fitzgerald? Amy has a contract with us. Your cousin and his wife were very specific about what they wanted in a housesitter, and that is a live-in housekeeper and cook.”

“I’m not my cousin, Ms. Holliday. Ms. Kincaid can take the time off or visit relatives. I don’t need a maid.”

Blue fire flashed in Amy Kincaid’s eyes.

“Mr. Fitzgerald—”

“I’m sure Ms. Kincaid and I can sort this out in the morning. Goodnight, Ms. Holliday.” He passed the phone back to Amy.

“Thanks, Lauren,” Amy said when she brought the cell phone to her ear. “Yeah, I’ll take care of this. Promise.” She closed the phone and gave Eddie a stiff smile. “Don’t worry, Mr. Fitzgerald. I’ll be