“It’s a 1951 Vincent Black Shadow,” he said proudly. “Hand-assembled. There are only eighteen hundred in existence.”
“Shouldn’t it be showcased? Preserved in a garage?”
“I’d rather show it off.”
“You could have left it on the street.”
“Parked between the golf carts and three-wheel bicycles?” He was all shock and indignation. “No way in hell. It stays on the grass. I don’t want it scratched.”
Unmovable, disagreeable man. Sloan remained before her, one booted foot on the brick stoop, the other between the door and jamb, trying to weasel his way inside. On either side of the door, flowering peach-and-fuchsia-colored impatiens in giant white ceramic planters scented the air in welcome. The late-afternoon sun hit Sloan’s back, casting him in dark shadows.
“Who gave you my grandmother’s address?” asked Eve.
“I overheard Risk Kincaid discussing the party in the clubhouse,” he admitted. “Briarwood Village is a maze of streets. The house numbers are painted on the curb and hard to see. I drove by Addie’s town house twice.”
“You should have kept on driving.”
The man had brass balls, showing up uninvited. His desperation to see Taylor irritated Eve. She was about to shut the door on him when he thrust a box into her hands. Gold metallic paper and a red silk bow suggested he’d had it professionally gift wrapped.
“I came prepared. I brought Addie a present,” he said. “I’m a considerate, caring guy.”
Eve shook the box. “Does it have a plug?”
“It’s not an appliance.”
“What is it?” She didn’t want any surprises.
Sloan shrugged. “I grabbed it from my girlfriend closet—”
“Girlfriend closet?”
“I stockpile gifts. That way when I break up with a woman, I can give her a present when she leaves. Makes her happy, and I come off as the good guy.”
Eve imagined the worst. “This gift could be a black teddy or a red thong?”
“Or a vibrator.”
“Go home.” She shoved the box into his chest.
He made a face, rubbing his left pec. “What’s your hang-up, Eve?”
“My granddaughter has no hang-ups,” asserted Addie Hannah as she came up behind Eve. “She’s smart and pretty and a very good judge of character. Who, young man, are you?”
Eve watched Sloan study Addie. The two-story residence appeared overly large for the small woman who looked back at him questioningly. Even at her advanced age, Addie remained active. Tanned to a berry brown, she looked amazing with her braided white-blond hair, pale blue eyes, and “toned bones,” as she called them. Attired in tennis whites, she clutched a Yonex racket in her right hand; in top-of-the-line Nikes she looked ready to receive a serve.
“I’m Sloan McCaffrey, ma’am,” he stated. “Happy birthday.”
“You’re a guest I’ve yet to meet.” Addie looked him over. “A friend of Taylor’s or Eve’s?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Eve’s.”
Eve caught the wicked gleam in his eye as his slow grin spread.
“I guess your granddaughter hasn’t mentioned me, as we’ve just started dating.”
Dating? Eve’s mouth puckered as if she’d sucked a sour candy. Her throat closed; no words rose to refute his claim.
Addie tilted her head. “She hasn’t mentioned you, son.”
“Give her time,” he said, straight-faced. “Once she starts talking about me, she won’t be able to stop.”
Addie slapped her tennis racket against her thigh. “You look athletic. Ever play football?”
“I played both football and baseball in college,” he replied. “I’ve just come up from six years with Triple-A ball. This is my first year with the Rogues.”
Addie looked thoughtful. “My granddaughters and their Rogues.”
“Ma’am?” Sloan didn’t understand.
Eve wasn’t about to explain Taylor’s past relationship with Brek Stryker. Let Sloan find out for himself.
Addie wasn’t finished studying him. “McCaffrey.” She paused, squinting hard. “You’re the new reliever who allowed two home runs in the fifth inning against the Minnesota Twins during your major-league debut. Made the record books, I believe.”
Sloan dipped his head and admitted, “That was me, ma’am. My life flashed back to the minors while I was standing on the mound watching two Twinkies pound my best heat. Had Brek Stryker not spoken on my behalf to the general manager, I’d be back in Triple-A. Stryke carries a lot of weight.”
Addie patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got the worst out of the way.”
“Season’s still young,” muttered Eve.
Sloan tsk-tsked. “Not nice, sweetheart.”
He then handed Addie the gift Eve had rammed into his chest. “Eve’s spoken so highly of you,” he said, his voice smooth and sincere. “Even though we’ve never met, I feel I know you, Addie. I wanted to drop off a gift.”
“He has no plans to stay,” Eve said so fast her words ran together.
“How very thoughtful.” Addie accepted the gift. “Any man who bears a gift is welcome to join the fun. Steaks are being barbecued out back, and the bar’s set up on the patio.”
Addie stepped back to let Sloan enter. It took Eve a moment longer to allow him entrance. When Addie moved ahead of them down the hallway, Eve elbowed Sloan in the ribs, her voice tight. “Dating? You lied to my grandmother.”
“Tonight’s our first date. The lie got me into the party.” Sloan slid his arm about her waist and drew her to him. “I think we need to keep up appearances. People will expect us to be into each other.”
“You’re not into me; you’re into Taylor.” She tried to pry his hand off her hip. He had big hands and a tight grip. “I won’t be the placeholder between your last lover and my sister. I refuse to play along.”
“Party pooper.” He pulled her even closer. “Loosen up, Eve.”
“You think I’m uptight?”
“You’ve got a broomstick up your ass.”
She dug in her heels.
He sighed and stopped as well. “Now what?”