Return To Rose Cottage: The Laws of Attraction

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked when he’d cleaned the wound.

She frowned at him.

“You never did say what your name is,” he reminded her as he smoothed on antibiotic cream, trying not to linger on her soft-as-silk skin.

“Ashley.”

He heard the unmistakable Boston accent. “Just visiting the area?”

“For three weeks,” she said emphatically, as if that were two-and-a-half weeks too long. “Are you a local?”

“I like to think of myself as one,” he said. Richmond might be where he lived, but this was the home of his heart. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until he’d made that final turn onto this road leading to the cottage where he’d spent some of the happiest summers of his life. He’d finally felt as if all the problems that had sent him scurrying down here were falling into perspective.

“Either you are or you aren’t,” she said, studying him with a narrowed gaze.

Amused by her need for precision, Josh said, “I’ve pretty much grown up around here.”

“Then you probably know the sheriff or whoever we need to call to report this,” she said.

“Let’s take a look and see if it’s even worth reporting,” he suggested. He examined first her car and then his own, concluding that they were both in need of new front bumpers and maybe a paint touch-up, but that both cars had escaped serious damage.

“Look, why don’t we call this even?” he suggested.

“Because I caused it,” she said, grimly determined to take responsibility. “I should deal with all the damages.”

“That’s why we carry insurance,” he corrected. “You deal with your company. I’ll deal with mine. It might not even be worth it, though. A body shop could fix things up for next to nothing.”

“But I should pay whatever it costs,” she insisted.

Josh couldn’t seem to stop himself from suggesting, “Then have dinner with me one night while you’re here. We’ll pick someplace outrageously expensive, and you can buy if it’ll make you feel better.”

She murmured something under her breath, but finally nodded.

Josh studied her curiously. “What did you say?”

“I said you’re obviously not a lawyer, or you’d be all over this, milking it for every dime you could get in damages.”

He laughed. “That’s just about the nicest compliment anyone’s paid me in months,” he said, deciding then and there that not being a lawyer for a bit suited him just fine. It wasn’t that far from the truth. Wasn’t that precisely why he’d come here, to figure out if he wanted to be a lawyer anymore with all that it entailed, including his expected engagement to his boss’s daughter?

“Do you have a phone number, Ashley? I’ll call you about dinner.”

She jotted it down, but before she handed it to him, she added something else, “If you change your mind about my paying for the damage to your car, I won’t fight you.”

Josh glanced at the paper and saw that she’d written, “My fault. I owe you,” then signed her name in the kind of illegible scrawl usually used by physicians.

“A confession?” he asked, amused. “Think it would hold up in court?”

“It would if I wanted it to,” she said flatly, then lowered herself gracefully into her car, giving him one last intoxicating view of those incredibly long legs. “See you around.”

“Oh, you can count on that,” Josh said, fingering the piece of paper she’d given him.

He stood watching until she was out of sight, then tucked the piece of paper into his pocket and gave it a pat. Coming home was turning out to be one of the smartest decisions he’d made in a long time.

And ironically the past couple of minutes had already given him insight into one of those important decisions he was here to consider. If he could feel this powerful tug of attraction to a woman who’d just creamed his beloved car, then the very last thing he ought to be considering was marriage to Stephanie Lockport Williams. First thing in the morning, he’d have to call and make it clear to her that despite her father’s wishes, they had no future.

And right after that, he’d call the mysterious Ashley and invite her out for a crab feast. There was no better way to get to know a woman than watching her handle the messy task of picking crabs. Stephanie had flatly refused to touch the things, which should have told Josh all he needed to know months ago.

Something told him that Ashley would show no such restraint. In fact, he had a hunch she’d go after those crabs with all the passion and enthusiasm of a local. There was something wildly seductive in watching a woman hammer away at the hard shells, then delicately pick out the sweet meat and dip it in melted butter, then savor every bite. He thought of Ashley’s lush lips closing around a chunk of backfin crabmeat dripping in butter, and concluded it was definitely a spectacle he could hardly wait to see.

2

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Ashley muttered as she sat with Maggie on the porch of the farmhouse Maggie and Rick lived in a few miles from Rose Cottage. It had an orchard out back, the trees laden down with ripe apples. The sun was beginning to drop in the western sky, splashing everything with orange light. It was so serene, it should have creeped Ashley out, but she had other things on her mind, like that ridiculous accident she’d caused by driving too fast on an unfamiliar winding road. For a split second she’d lost her concentration, and that had been enough to nearly cause a tragedy. There would have been no adequate defense for it.

“What is wrong with me?” she asked her sister plaintively.

Maggie glanced at her husband. Both of them were fighting a grin.

“What?” Ashley demanded. “Why are you two laughing at me?”

“We’re not laughing at you,” Maggie rushed to assure her. “It’s just that the saint is discovering she’s human. It’s a wonderful thing to see. I, for one, never thought it would happen. I can’t wait to tell Melanie and Mike when they get here.”

Ashley gave her sister a sour look. “You know, if you keep this up, you’re going to make me sorry I agreed to come to Virginia for five minutes, much less three weeks,” she told Maggie irritably. “I can go back to Boston first thing in the morning, you know.”

“But you won’t,” Maggie said.

Ashley found her confidence annoying. “Oh? Why is that, Ms. Know-it-all?”

“You made a deal with us. If you break it, then we’ll know you’re in some sort of emotional meltdown that probably requires hospitalization.”

Ashley scowled. “Not even remotely funny.”

“I didn’t mean it to be,” Maggie assured her. “You need this sabbatical, Ashley, and one way or another we’re going to see to it that you take it. Rose Cottage is much cheaper and a whole lot more pleasant than some quiet sanitarium in a tranquil setting with shrinks watching your every move.” She let that image sink in, then asked, “Don’t you agree?”

Ashley stared hard at her sister to see if she was joking. She didn’t appear to be. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“If it was the only way to assure that you get some rest, we would,” Maggie retorted emphatically. “Don’t test us. That’s how worried we are about you.”

“Mom and Dad would never allow it,” Ashley said.

“Are you so sure of that? They’re worried sick, too.”

“I’m not having a damn breakdown, though you could easily drive me to one,” Ashley said, barely keeping a grip on her temper. The last thing she needed to do was give them ammunition to have her committed. And they would do it. She could see that now. There was no mistaking the resolve in Maggie’s eyes.

“You’re not having one yet,” Maggie agreed. “But you’re on the verge, Ashley. None of us have ever seen you strung this tight before. Everyone has their limits. What happened in court was only the final blow. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard for too long.”

“I think we need to change the subject before you really get on my nerves,” Ashley told her sister. She deliberately turned to Rick. “Do you know of a Josh around here?”

Rick looked as if he didn’t really want to be drawn into the conversation, even if the subject seemed to be neutral. Ashley could hardly blame him. When he shrugged, she turned back to Maggie. “What about you? Do you know a Josh?”