Page 7 of Two Hearts' Ploy

Mom looked horrified. “Do I? I’m so sorry, Jeff. I don’t really think of it that way, but I guess since you and Kelly were my babies, it’s hard to see you hurting.”

He could have tried to pretend he didn’t understand, but she was right. There was still a part of him that was lacking. He hadn’t been with a woman since breaking up with Aimee, and he supposed part of that had to do with the missing leg. The other part of it was because he pretty much knew every woman here in town and had even tried dating a few of them.

But no woman so far had been worth the risk. At thirty, he was at the age where he didn’t want to get involved with anyone who was only in it temporarily. As stupid as it was, he was kind of sensitive about his looks.

“Don’t worry. I’ll come to you when I’m ready for a haircut,” he said, effectively dismissing her outburst about his bike. Mom owned the local beauty salon which had some pretty exclusive clientele. “Although I’m not sure that you should be the one cutting my hair.”

She suddenly grinned. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I am,” he answered dryly.

They laughed.

* * *

He might just as well get a few things done at home, Jeff decided since he didn’t have to go into the studio until this evening. Maybe if he finished the specs for the three-season room along with the deck he was planning on constructing soon, he might be able to get a start on it next week.

As he approached the updated four-story home that overlooked Stone Lake on his bike, he took a moment toappreciate the work that he’d finished so far. It was a unique combination of the old and new, with the original stone façade and new lap siding that matched what had once been there. He’d hopefully be working on the landscaping in the fall after building a new porch that would surround the entire house and include a sunroom along with a screened in porch on the lakefront.

The place was way too big for him, and when his dad had offered him the chance to purchase the home as a project for the two of them, Jeff had jumped on it, not immediately realizing that he was not only going to fall in love with the place, but the location as well. It was a double lot, so he had plenty of privacy, which was something he’d always valued having been born into a large family with four other siblings.

Maybe it was stupid of him to hang onto the place and not move into somewhere more practical, but he’d been pouring his heart and soul into the restorations, and he couldn’t imagine selling it like Dad had originally intended. It was an everyday thing for Dad, since he owned one of the most successful construction businesses in Northwest Wisconsin. Dad had created a division exclusively for flipping homes. It had all begun years ago, when Jake Loughlin, then the new owner of the Dragonfly Pointe Inn, had hired him to restore and remodel the Inn, which had been in an excessive state of disrepair since the early nineteen seventies.

After watching the sunset descend, its sparkling crystals spitting like sparks of fire across the lake, he felt content when he fell asleep at night and at peace when he woke in the morning. When Dad had driven him here for the first time, Jeff had been captivated by the awe-inspiring view of the lake. The home was elevated high enough to not only see most of Stone Lake, but also beyond the bridge to Crystal Rock Lake as well.

Jeff grinned when he walked inside. As much as he loved the work he was doing with the restoration, he wasn’t makingmuch progress on the decorating end of things. Somehow, he’d managed to accumulate a collection of carefully chosen antiques. Along with rugs and various other tables and accessories, he’d run across a beautiful mahogany dining room table, chairs and buffet that were all sitting unused in his dining room. Now, if only he could find the massive four poster bed for the master that he’d been searching for.

What he needed to decide on first was a color scheme, he thought, taking a seat at the kitchen island with some bottled water. Glancing around, he shook his head. He really wanted to do something about the white walls and bare floors, which were beautiful since they were newly refinished. He also had a room filled with stuff he liked from auctions and thrift stores, but the only problem was he didn’t know what to do with any of it.

He really wasn’t anxious to hire a designer, although he could certainly afford to do it. It just wouldn’t feel personal enough to him though, he realized. Jeff wanted too much to be involved in the work itself.

But what the hell was he waiting for, he wondered? Even the kitchen seemed stark, as beautiful as the flooring, tile backdrops and countertops were. He hadn’t had trouble choosing lighting or fixtures either, so what was it about the decorating itself that made him hesitate? It’s not like he couldn’t repaint or move items around the house if he was dissatisfied. The place was huge. The items he had in storage probably wouldn’t fill more than three rooms anyway. He’d even built a small sound studio downstairs in the walk-out basement where he created music. Despite the studio only taking up a third of the space, there was only a sectional and big screen TV occupying the rest.

Although he had a beautiful antique bar in the garage that he’d planned on setting up down there, he just couldn’t make up his mind where to put it. That would be permanent thoughbecause he planned to install a sink behind the bar, and add a few appliances, like a wine cooler and refrigerator.

Maybe he just wanted to get it right the first time and couldn’t stand the idea of wasting time on redoes if he wasn’t happy.

He heaved a sigh, muttering, “Or maybe in some stupid part of my mind I’m hoping that I’m not going to be living here alone for the rest of my life.”

When he and Aimee had broken it off, it hadn’t hit him as hard as it had later when he’d been severely injured again after getting shot. It wasn’t that he felt lonely as much as he feltalone.

It was depressing to think that he might actually be waiting for someone special to miraculously walk into his life.Wouldn’t his mom get a kick out of that?

Jeff pursed his lips, suddenly grinning. Although it had happened with General John Ashton, who was currently serving as a mentor while doing his rehab at the wounded warrior home. He’d met Jeff’s former nurse, Grace Johnston, and it had apparently been love at first sight.

Chapter Three

Malibu Beach, California

Her hands on her hips, Wren surveyed the damage that had been done inside the beach house. Someone had really done a number on the place, she realized, as her eyes searched the large airy space.

Although she didn’t usually leave too many personal things behind after her short breaks between tours, many of the paintings on the walls that had been slashed had been valuable, along with some of the strategically placed collections that had been arranged on the shelves on either side of the fireplace as well as inside the light up cabinets in the kitchen.

The police had come and gone last night, after taking prints and numerous pictures inside. But Wren was having a hard time believing that Vin could have done this much damage in the short amount of time that it had taken the cops to arrive after sounding the alarm last night. This attack appeared to be personal, she realized, and somehow, she felt that Vin didn’t carry enough hostility within to lash out by slashing sofa cushions and even the mattress on the bed.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Wren?” Marc asked softly.

“That maybe it was someone else who somehow got past all the new security earlier in the day and did all this?” she muttered, turning to Marc. “I got another one of those notes yesterday, Marc.”

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