Monkey Wrench

She laughed at Rose’s suggestion of meeting Joe’s daughter and shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t get along very well with children. Forgive me if I beg off, Mr. Santori.”

“You don’t have kids?”

She blinked, looking prettily surprised. “Me? Heavens, no. I never had the time.”

“Not to mention a husband,” Rose grumbled from the other side of the kitchen. “Don’t you think it’s a shame, Joe? A nice-looking girl like Susannah ought to have a big house with lots of children. A woman her age—”

Susannah pretended to be pained by her grandmother’s not-so-subtle campaign. “Let’s not discuss my age, Granny Rose, if you please. Mr. Santori doesn’t need to learn all my secrets.”

“Whatever your age,” Joe heard himself saying, “it suits you very well.”

Susannah laughed and Rose applauded. “Bravo!”

“Don’t try turning my head with pretty talk,” Susannah cautioned with a wag of her forefinger. “You’re just trying to get me on your side, so you can spend the winter working on my grandmother’s house.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Joe grinned. Although he told himself he wasn’t looking for any female companionship, he found himself saying, “How about if I take you on a guided tour of this house tomorrow, Miss Suzie? You can help your grandmother decide if any repairs should be made.”

“I’m leaving for the Caribbean tomorrow.”

“What time?”

“I’m not...I don’t know.” For the first time, her confidence appeared to waver. “I’ll have to check with my secretary. I think the flight’s in the afternoon.”

“I’ll come in the morning.”

Rose said, “Come for breakfast. You two can have a nice chat together.”

Susannah covered her face with one hand and groaned. “Granny Rose, must you be so obvious?”

“It’s a date?” Joe asked with a grin.

“Yes, yes, all right. But please come early. I really do have a plane to catch.”

“It’s a deal.” Joe slapped the table and stood. “Now I’ve got to get home before my daughter burns down the kitchen. She’s just learning to cook.”

Rose piped up, “Oh, Susannah could teach her everything about cooking—”

“Granny Rose!” Susannah warned. She stood also and moved to escort Joe to the front door. “You’d better get out of here before my grandmother calls the nearest minister and marries us.”

“There are worse fates,” Joe murmured under his breath, bending to give Rose a quick kiss on her cheek. She gave him a bright look and winked, which caused Joe to laugh before he followed Susannah from the room.

He found her waiting at the front door, with one hand resting on the handle. She wore a soft suede skirt that clung to her hips and flared with feminine grace around her legs. When she was sure Rose hadn’t followed him, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Thank you very much, Mr. Santori.”

Joe grabbed his parka from the small chair where he’d left it. “For what?”

“You know. Calling me about my grandmother. I appreciate your kindness.”

“I hope it didn’t screw up your day.”

“On the contrary,” she said, watching as Joe shrugged into his coat, “this trip has actually made my day.”

Joe collected his tool belt. “You think she’s going to be okay?”

“I’m not sure. But I’ll spend this evening with her, and tomorrow morning, before I decide.” Susannah met his gaze. “I must say, it’s a comfort knowing that people like you are still here in Tyler, looking after one another.”

He wrapped his tool belt around his hand, lingering. He wasn’t quite ready to leave yet, and Susannah hadn’t opened the door, either, he noted. He said, “I like your grandmother.”

“And she likes you.” With a hint of a blush starting, Susannah added, “I hope you don’t think she’s serious when she suggests...well, when she talks about you and me.”

“I think she’s dead serious.”

“But...of course it’s impossible—”

“She’s determined,” Joe said plainly, “to get you married and pregnant as soon as possible, Miss Suzie. And frankly, I agree with her theory.”

Her eyes flashed. “I will put up with my grandmother’s opinions, Mr. Santori, because I love her. But you—”

Joe chucked her playfully under the chin, unable to resist teasing her. “You ought to have a family and a home of your own, Miss Suzie, instead of spending your life showing everybody else how to do it.”

“I’m perfectly content with my life the way it is,” she said, turning cool. “I’m very busy.”

“So you keep saying. Personally, I think a woman who’s too busy to enjoy life is missing a hell of a lot.”

He’d gone too far, Joe saw as soon as the words left his mouth. Susannah stared at him for a long, silent moment, then opened the front door. She didn’t say goodbye. Joe considered apologizing, but decided the truth was the truth. He brushed past her, hunched up the collar of his parka and started down the steps.

But on the sidewalk, he paused and turned. Glancing back, he met her gaze and grinned. “See you in the morning, Miss Suzie.”

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_5a9b41ab-f9c7-5a8b-95c7-067d4fb36998)

SUSANNAH CLOSED the front door, then kicked it, fuming.

“Where does he get off telling me how to live my life? He’s a carpenter, for crying out loud!”

What did a small-town, blue-collar, power-tool collector know about life in the fast lane? Susannah angrily glared out the beveled glass panes of the door and watched while Joe climbed into a battered pickup truck and drove away.

Hold on, her inner voice said. You’re being too touchy, my girl.

Which was true. What was the sense in getting hot under the collar at the remarks of a man she’d never see again after tomorrow? Besides, in less than twenty-four hours, Susannah planned to be sitting on an airplane with Roger, heading for sun and sand and more than a week of relaxation. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize a wonderful vacation.

Too bad Roger doesn’t look like Joe Santori, said that pesky inner voice again, breaking into her mental picture of softly waving palm trees. I’ll bet he’s got a body built for a bathing suit.

Susannah blushed at the thought and abruptly pulled herself together. She marched toward the kitchen, determined to have a shoot-out with her grandmother.

“Granny Rose, I can’t believe you’d embarrass me in front of a perfect stranger,” she lectured, once again entering the kitchen. “What in the world possessed you to think I’d have any interest whatsoever in a man like— Oh, God! Granny Rose!”

Susannah gasped and rushed to her grandmother, who was slumped over the sink, weakly grasping at the counter to stay on her feet. Just as Susannah reached her side, the elderly woman lost consciousness and slid limply into Susannah’s arms. Lowering her grandmother to the floor, Susannah cried, “Oh, Granny Rose!”

She cradled Rose’s head in her lap and fanned her grandmother’s ashen face with a dish towel, her own heart thumping madly in her chest.