Windswept Way (Hope Harbor #9)(48)
Author: Irene Hannon

 

Not by a long shot.

 

Unless she’d misread the situation, a kiss had been imminent.

 

“No. Definitely not. It’s just me and, uh, Jon. You know, the man who cuts your grass. Also our landscaper.”

 

And a bit more, in light of their interrupted almost-clinch.

 

Could there be a budding romance on the Edgecliff grounds?

 

Rose studied the man on the fringes of the porch, who was no more than a shadowy outline. “We’ve never met. My legal advisor handles the contracts for that sort of work.”

 

“Oh. Well . . .” Ashley offered a vague wave his direction. “This is Jonathan Gray. We were, uh, saying good night.”

 

“I’m sorry I interrupted. Good evening, Mr. Gray. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

“Jon is fine, and it’s nice to meet you too.”

 

His husky response came across as sincere, but he kept his distance.

 

Why?

 

All at once, a comment David had made when he’d hired the man’s firm echoed in the recesses of her mind. Something about supporting a wounded veteran who was launching a new business.

 

Were war injuries the reason he always wore a cap and glasses and that neck covering she’d noticed while peeking through the windows as he worked? Were they also why he remained in the shadows tonight?

 

And how had he and Ashley gotten to the kissing stage in less than a month?

 

Hmm.

 

Her partner was certainly old enough to make her own decisions about men, and the meticulous plans and accounting records she shared during their daily meetings indicated she had a precise and clear-thinking mind, but hormones could short-circuit even a smart woman’s brain.

 

A lesson she’d learned to her detriment, with disastrous consequences.

 

Perhaps it would be wise to get to know this young man. To protect her investment, if nothing else.

 

She pulled her sweater tighter around her. “I came outside to sit for a few minutes, but I didn’t realize fog had descended. It’s quite thick tonight.”

 

“Yes. We were talking about that while we enjoyed the concert.”

 

Warmth flooded Rose’s cheeks. “You were sitting out here in the dark listening? Why didn’t you come inside?”

 

“I didn’t think you wanted an audience.”

 

“An audience of strangers, no. Friends, on the other hand, are always welcome to listen. That includes you, Jon.”

 

“Thank you.” His head swiveled Ashley’s direction, then back toward her. “But it’s a shame not to share your talent with others. If your playing could reel in someone like me who knows nothing about classical music, imagine what it could do for people who already appreciate it.”

 

Rose tried without success to read Ashley’s face. If she’d told him about her open house recruitment campaign, it was possible he was trying to lend a hand. Help convince a reluctant pianist to take the plunge.

 

Sweet, and rather endearing, but she wouldn’t let such efforts influence her decision.

 

“I don’t play in public anymore.”

 

“That’s too bad.” Jon eased farther back into the shadows, leaving his features more hidden than ever. “It’s like putting a lamp under a basket, to paraphrase a Bible verse my mom used to quote.”

 

If the man knew his Scripture, there might be less to worry about in terms of his involvement with Ashley.

 

“Yes, I’m familiar with that one. From Matthew.” The very verse she’d been thinking about since Ashley had asked her to play at the open house, along with the parable about the talents. Not that she intended to bring that up or discuss the matter further tonight. A change of subject was in order. “I think I’ll forego my plan to sit on the porch. It may be more prudent to go back to my cottage before this fog gets any worse.”

 

“Why don’t I walk with you?” Ashley moved toward her. “It would be easy to trip in the dark.”

 

Rose opened her mouth to decline. Shut it. Following the narrow gravel drive that led to the cottage wouldn’t be difficult to do alone, but why not give these two young people an excuse to extend their evening?

 

“Your company would be most welcome. Thank you. Perhaps Jon will walk with us too, in case we run into a ghost or two.”

 

“I’m not too worried about that.” Ashley’s lips twitched.

 

“If ever you were to encounter one, though, this would be the place, wouldn’t it?” She swept a hand over the mist-shrouded grounds. “But it won’t be a problem tonight. The resident ghost isn’t doing any haunting this evening. She confines that to Halloween.”

 

“You’ve seen a ghost here?” Ashley’s eyes widened.

 

Rose gave a soft laugh. “No, my dear. I am the ghost here. After the incident on Halloween, I initiated a new ritual. Every year, on that night, I dress in a long white gown, walk past the windows carrying a candle, and play the title song from The Phantom of the Opera on Allison—with the window open. I decided to give any ghost-seekers a thrill and fuel speculation about spectral sightings. It’s been quite amusing.”

 

A male chuckle rumbled in the darkness. “That sounds like a scheme my sister would dream up. After we got too old to dress up and traipse through the neighborhood for candy on Halloween, she turned our garage into a haunted house for the local kids. I was always recruited for one of the more gruesome roles.”

 

“I believe I’d like your sister.” Rose gave him a smile he likely couldn’t see in the darkness.

 

“Everyone does.”

 

“May I call on you for an escort? Not to diminish Ashley’s strength, but she’s a slip of a thing and I’d welcome a sturdy arm to hold on to on my trip back to the cottage.”

 

He hesitated, but only for an instant. “I’d be happy to walk you home.”

 

“Wonderful. Let me lock up first. Why don’t we cut through the house and I’ll activate the security system by the back door?”

 

Jon eased farther into the darkness. “I’ll circle around and meet you there.”

 

He didn’t want the light to shine on his face.

 

Gracious.

 

How bad did he look?

 

Evidently bad enough to keep him in the shadows, which was a shame.