The Accidental Encore (31 page)

Danny saw a flash of dark hair swing by as she made her way
through the house. Probably had her nose in the air. His dad had warned him
repeatedly to stay away from the summer girls. Patrick Flannery always said
Danny’s good looks would be more of a burden than a pleasure. So he’d heeded
his dad’s advice and steered clear of the young summer beauties. Most of the
time. But a man could look, as Danny did as she passed.

He watched her stroll into the kitchen and stop at the open
wall facing the ocean. The Fordhams didn’t have any taste in architecture, but
they sure had the prettiest lot in Andover.

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Kat Fordham paused to look at the
stunning view from the rear of her sister’s house, then smirked over her
shoulder at the man who’d borne the brunt of her boredom. When she’d first
entered the house and glanced up the sprawling spiral staircase to the second
story scaffolding, she’d seen work boots and stained jeans molded to a lean
butt. The summer, she’d thought with a grin, might not be a total wash.

She’d been out since dawn on the beach bike she’d found in
the garage of the small rental cottage she’d call home for the summer. She had
heard the South Carolina coast could be muggy, but nothing could’ve prepared a
Boston girl for the kind of heat she’d encountered. As she’d pedaled her bike
along the streets of Andover Island, sweat inching down her spine, she’d
wondered what had possessed her sister Julia to build a house down here. But
the quasi-Italian villas and European gabled stucco mini-mansions she passed
explained it all.

The under construction Fordham house sat along a stretch of
beach past the private club where the marsh met the ocean in a seamless wedge
of beauty.
 
With its baroque
detailing and monstrous size, the house provided the finale in the true parade
of prosperity. In her sister’s usual haste to impress, Julia had directed the
architect to create the most pretentious beach home in all of Andover.

The overbearing heat and how much time she’d have to spend
in it was another negative on her ever-growing list of reasons not to spend the
summer in paradise. And then she’d seen the builder. Beneath all that grime was
a serious hottie. He’d shoved a pair of protective goggles onto his forehead
and gripped a nail gun as if he could use it on her as a weapon. His sea foam
green eyes were so brilliant she could make out the distinctive color from ten
feet below. When he’d shaken his dirty blond hair to dislodge the wood dust,
Kat had actually felt her mouth go dry. What was it about a man with a tool
belt?

He’d called her a kid, but she could practically feel those
green eyes admiring her backside. She didn’t flaunt her looks like a lot of her
college classmates, and she certainly didn’t tuck them neatly into the sweater
sets and tennis outfits her sister preferred. The fact that her wardrobe grated
on Julia’s nerves only heightened Kat’s enjoyment of dressing as she pleased.

She looked at her watch and grimaced. Julia would
undoubtedly be beside herself when she realized Kat had disappeared. It was
time to get back.

She meandered through the bare studs and tried to sneak a
peek at the builder before she left. Kat breezed under the staircase, thankful
the nail gun had ceased firing, and looked up into eyes as mesmerizing as the
ocean view out the window. “See you around.” She waved and couldn’t help but
smile at his frank appreciation of her.

“See ya, kid.”

Kid, again! From the looks of him he couldn’t have been much
older than her.

As she mounted her bike, Kat thought about the next two
months of her life, stuck on the small island all summer. Her only reprieve was
the part-time job she’d already secured at a local bar. Her tips would go a
long way towards earning her freedom from Julia and Len. The babysitting
depressed her the most, because until she’d stumbled upon the gorgeous guy
she’d just sparred with, she’d had no more to look forward to than hours of
beach and pool time with Alexis and Grayson.

Kat felt a twinge of guilt at passing her nieces off as
brats. They were spoiled, yes, but they weren’t brats. As much as Julia
lamented having to care for Kat as a child, she doted on her trophy twins,
proudly parading them around as the chosen children of wealthy industrialist
Lenard Fordham IV.

As soon as she turned the corner at the end of the street
and saw an unfamiliar car in the cottage drive, she remembered Julia’s appointment
with the decorator. Shit. There’d be hell to pay for being late.