Now she was definitely hyperventilating.
As she fanned her face, the rest of the trip into San Francisco became a blur. She had no idea what was outside her window; all she saw was Tyler.
Stop this, she commanded herself. Do something. Say something.
But what? Okay, so she hadn’t planned to introduce herself quite this quickly. She could roll with the punches, couldn’t she? Surely this was her golden opportunity to cross-examine him, to get him to tell her more about whatever this was she was horning in on. And then she would say, Hmm, sounds like you need my help, and somehow make it all sound natural and reasonable.
Except she hadn’t exactly figured out how to do that yet.
She mulled over various openings, but before she’d so much as asked for his name, the taxi swooped up one hill and down another, and Tyler leaned forward.
“This is it. Pull over here,” he instructed, and the cab slammed to a stop.
“Okay, we got North Beach,” the driver shouted. He jumped out to open the trunk and retrieve Emily’s briefcase as Tyler unwound himself and his duffel bag from the back seat.
Emily got out more slowly, not exactly sure how she was going to maneuver Tyler into showing her where he was going. For her to follow, he had to lead the way. But he was standing there waiting, doing the gentlemanly thing and allowing her to go first.
“No, no, you go ahead,” she said suddenly. “I’ll take care of the cab. My treat. You just go right ahead and get on your way.”
His dark brows lowered. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I—I’m practicing random acts of kindness,” she blurted. Well, that was as good an explanation as any.
He studied her for a moment, but finally accepted the favor, probably deciding it was easier to let the crazy lady have her way than fight with her. Phew. As Emily thrust bills at the cabbie, her quarry ambled across the street and up to a charming little Queen Anne house on the opposite corner. Mostly painted pink with some white trim, the house had a faintly purple conical tower in one corner. The sign out front read “Beau’s B and B.” And Tyler marched right in the front door as if he owned the place.
This was a surprise. Although Emily thought the B and B looked delightful—the only remotely Queen Anne house around—it was not where she would have expected Tyler to land. Everything else on the softly sloping street was strictly Edwardian, mostly three stories, with squared-off angles and bay windows. But whatever it was, at least Beau’s B and B was a legitimate place to stay, and she wouldn’t look incredibly weird filing in behind him.
As soon as she got rid of the cabbie, Emily gathered her purse, her briefcase and her courage, and took off across the street to Beau’s B and B. Her heart pounded as her hand closed around the brass knob on the front door. Get a grip, Emily, she chided herself. You just spent half an hour in a car with him. How much scarier could sharing a bed and breakfast be?
So she opened the door.
The inside of the B and B was even cuter than outside, with a small pine desk tucked inside a cozy vestibule in the front hall. There was a Tiffany-style lamp on a three-legged table opposite, casting a soft, rosy glow into the hall. A dark-haired woman—a very pretty dark-haired woman—stood behind the desk, smiling and laughing as she put Tyler on the register.
Emily took a good look at her, a little in awe of the casually eccentric way the woman was dressed, and how at ease she seemed to be around Tyler. Her hair was short and kind of spiky, as if she’d just washed it, tossed her head, and left it that way. And she was wearing a scarlet silk T-shirt under a crazy quilt vest—an outfit that was just as unique and striking as the rest of her.
This woman was exactly the sort of person Emily had always secretly wanted to be, but had never come close to. How annoying. She hated her already.
Emily dawdled by the door, trying to be inconspicuous. She pretended to be occupied looking at the array of colorful and exotic postcards pinned to the wall, taking in bright pictures of Zanzibar and Pago Pago, but mostly she was eavesdropping on Tyler and the beautiful innkeeper. It only took about a second to pick up that these two were old friends. Sheesh. Jozette at the Rainbow Rest-O-Rant and now the offbeat proprietor of Beau’s B and B. Did he know every unattached woman in the western hemisphere?
“Aw, c’mon, Kate,” Tyler grumbled. “You know I don’t have a reservation. How long have we known each other? Have I ever had a reservation?”
“No,” the brunette returned cheerfully. “But I keep hoping you’ll surprise me.” She cocked her head to one side, fixing him with a mischievous gaze. “Are you going to pay me this time?”
“You can take it out in trade,” he said in a low, husky voice, and Emily just about fainted where she stood. Take it out in trade? What kind of trade was he talking here?
Now she really hated her. Lucky dog, she thought. But the innkeeper, the vivacious Kate, didn’t seem to take the offer seriously. She just laughed at Tyler, shaking a finger in his direction, while a huge yellow tabby leaped up on the desk from out of nowhere, right smack in between the two of them. The cat landed with a clatter, knocking over a ceramic pencil cup and scattering pens and papers every which way.
“Whoa.” But after the momentary surprise, Tyler leaned in and began to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “Hey, big bad Beau, it’s been a long time. You still remember me, pal?”
Beau, after whom the B and B was apparently named, responded with a loud, rusty purr that Emily could hear all the way over by the door. She took that for a yes.
“I guess rascals and rogues have to stick together,” Kate noted dryly. “You and that cat are two of a kind. Beau, get down from there.”
The cat ignored her, whipping her with its tail, giving her a dismissive glance from brilliant green eyes—eyes that were the exact same shade as Tyler’s.
“I’ve got it. Leaves on an apple tree,” Emily said out loud. The apple tree outside her bedroom window when she was a kid. She’d finally placed the color.
Tyler, Kate and even the cat turned at her words. Oops. Emily could feel her face suffuse with rosy heat.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Just thinking out loud.”
“About apple trees?” Tyler shook his head. She could see the questions forming on his lips. Who are you, anyway? Why are you following me? And who gave you a day pass from the mental ward?
Oh, yeah. She was making a great impression.
Kate smiled kindly. “I’ll be with you in just a sec,” she told Emily. And she winked, as if to say, I get the apple tree thing.
Oh, dear. Here she was ready to dislike Kate on sight, and the innkeeper was acting like a co-conspirator. Emily focused on the postcard from Pago Pago, trying to sort out her jumbled thoughts.
Meanwhile Kate turned her attention back to Tyler. “Hey, Ty, I’ve changed things since the last time you were here. You were in the Gone With the Wind room last time, right?”
He nodded.
Kate sighed. “I loved that room. But I had to redecorate. A couple of guests set the bed on fire trying to recreate the burning of Atlanta.”
“That’s, uh, too bad,” Tyler choked, disguising a chuckle by concentrating on the cat. He stroked his fur and tried to maneuver the stubborn little animal into a position where he could get picked up. Undaunted, Beau stood his ground, bonked his head into Tyler’s chest and purred even louder.
Emily was enchanted. This was the first time she’d seen him really smile, let alone laugh, plus he was acting all sweet and tender toward the yellow cat. It was a whole different side of him.
“Okay,” Kate went on, chewing the