Free Key Of Knowledge by Nora Roberts Page B

carefully and thoroughly, and the jury was still out. “You gotta wait out there, ’cause I’m not allowed to let anybody in if I don’t know who they are.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    The door shut in his face. Like mother, like son, Brad thought, then heard the boy shout.
    â€œMom! There’s this guy at the door. He looks like a lawyer or something.”
    â€œOh, Jesus,” Brad mumbled and cast his eyes to heaven.
    Moments later the door opened again. Zoe’s expression changed from puzzlement to surprise to mild irritation in three distinct stages.
    â€œOh. It’s you. Um . . . is there something I can do for you?”
    You could let me nibble my way up your neck to the back of your ear for a start, Brad thought, but kept his easy smile in place. “Dana was in the store this afternoon, picking up some supplies.”
    â€œYes. I know.” She tucked a dishcloth in the waistband of her jeans, let the tail hang down her hip. “Did she forget something?”
    â€œNot exactly. I just thought you might be able to use this.” He lifted the gift he’d leaned against the side of the house, then had the pleasure of seeing her blink in surprise an instant before she laughed.
    Really laughed. He loved the sound of it, the way it danced over her face, into her eyes.
    â€œYou brought me a stepladder?”
    â€œAn essential tool for any home or business improvement project.”
    â€œYes, it is. I have one.” Obviously realizing how ungracious that sounded, she flushed and hurried on. “But it’s . . . old. And we can certainly use another. It was really thoughtful of you.”
    â€œWe of HomeMakers appreciate your business. Where would you like me to put this?”
    â€œOh, well.” She glanced behind her, then seemed to sigh. “Why don’t you just bring it in here? I’ll figure that out later.” She stepped back, bumped into the boy who was hovering at her back.
    â€œSimon, this is Mr. Vane. He’s an old friend of Flynn’s.”
    â€œHe said he was a friend of yours.”
    â€œWorking on that.” Brad carried the stepladder into the house. “Hi, Simon. How’s it going?”
    â€œIt’s going okay. How come you’re wearing a suit if you’re carrying ladders around?”
    â€œSimon.”
    â€œGood question.” Brad ignored Zoe and concentrated on the boy. “I had a couple of meetings earlier today. Suits are more intimidating.”
    â€œWearing them sucks. Mom made me wear one to Aunt Joleen’s wedding last year. With a tie. Bogus.”
    â€œThanks for that fashion report.” Zoe hooked an arm around Simon’s throat and made him grin.
    Then they both grinned, at each other, and Brad’s eyes were dazzled.
    â€œHomework?”
    â€œDone. Video game time.”
    â€œTwenty minutes.”
    â€œForty-five.”
    â€œThirty.”
    â€œSweet!” He wriggled free, then bolted across the room to the TV.
    Now that her hands were no longer full of boy, Zoe didn’t know what to do with them. She laid one on the ladder. “It’s a really nice stepladder. The fiberglass ones are so light and easy to work with.”
    â€œQuality with value—HomeMakers’ bywords.”
    The sounds of a ballpark abruptly filled the tiny living room behind her. “It’s his favorite,” Zoe managed. “He’d rather play baseball—virtual or in real life—than breathe.” She cleared her throat, wondered what the hell she was supposed to do next. “Ah . . . can I get you something to drink?”
    â€œSure. Whatever’s handy.”
    â€œOkay.” Damn it. “Just, um, have a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.”
    What to do with Bradley Vane? she asked herself as she hurried back to the kitchen. In her house. Plunked down in his expensive shoes in her living room. An hour before