by Hamel, B. B.
His Taste Box Set
The Pine Grove Complete Collection
BB Hamel
Contents
Special Offer!
His Taste: Pine Grove Book 1
1. Eden
2. Case
3. Eden
4. Case
5. Eden
6. Case
7. Eden
8. Case
9. Eden
10. Case
11. Eden
12. Case
13. Eden
14. Case
15. Eden
16. Eden
His Demand: Pine Grove Book 2
1. Celine
2. Dawson
3. Celine
4. Dawson
5. Celine
6. Celine
7. Dawson
8. Celine
9. Dawson
10. Celine
11. Dawson
12. Celine
13. Dawson
14. Celine
15. Dawson
16. Celine
His Secret: Pine Grove Book 3
1. Emma
2. Rhett
3. Emma
4. Rhett
5. Emma
6. Rhett
7. Emma
8. Rhett
9. Emma
10. Rhett
11. Emma
12. Rhett
13. Emma
14. Rhett
15. Emma
His Touch: Pine Grove Book 4
1. Allie
2. Rowan
3. Allie
4. Rowan
5. Allie
6. Rowan
7. Allie
8. Rowan
9. Allie
10. Rowan
11. Allie
12. Rowan
13. Allie
14. Allie
Also by BB Hamel
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 by B. B. Hamel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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His Taste: Pine Grove Book 1
1
Eden
I push open the old wrought-iron side gate and head up the front driveway toward Hammett’s End, grumbling to myself. I left my car down by the curb, and it’s a little annoying that I can’t park in the driveway, but I forget all about that when I get a good look at the house in front of me.
It’s like a freaking Victorian novel or something. The estate has gone to seed over the years, although the grass is freshly clipped and most of the bushes are pruned. Otherwise, it’s bare, Spartan, basic. There’s no flashiness or any sign of the extravagant wealth that built this place.
Everyone in Pine Grove knows the Hammett family. They’re about as famous as you can possibly get here, considering they own half the town and their paper mill employs the other half.
But that’s not really why they’re famous. Oh, yeah, that helps, but it’s all the other stuff that makes people talk. All the rumors about death, abuse, missing people, deviant activities. People have been telling ghostly horror stories about the Hammett family for as long as I’ve been alive.
Everyone told me not to answer that ad. I’m insane, totally insane, I’m basically asking to get murdered. Everyone knows that you stay far, far away from Hammett’s End if you ever want to see the light of day again.
Except I have no other options, and the pay is absurd. I’m fresh out of college with a degree in English and it turns out that there aren’t a ton of high-paying jobs for literature majors in Pine Grove, Indiana. Since I have student loans hanging over my head, I felt like I had no other choice.
Now, walking toward the house, I may be rethinking that.
But no, the money is too good. They’re offering me a $50,000 per year salary to basically clean the house. It’s not exactly the glamorous job at some big fancy New York publishing firm that I always imagined, but it’s honest work and good money.
So here I am, walking up the front steps to Hammett’s End, wondering if I’m about to be murdered or not.
The house itself is still in good shape. It’s an old Victorian-style mansion with a large wrap-around porch, a spire in the middle, and more than a few random peaks to the roof. Clearly, it’s been built and rebuilt over the years until it started to resemble what it is today, a mishmash of new and old, and yet still totally beautiful.
There’s nothing like this house in all of Pine Grove. And I can see why people are so afraid of it.
I take a breath and stop in front of the door. I consider running away for the thousandth time, but I know I can’t. Student loans are one thing, but I know why I’m really here.
I sigh and knock. It echoes into the house like it’s one big, empty space. I wait for a minute before knocking again.
After another agonizing wait, the door finally slides open.
“Yes?”
The man looking out at me is the strangest looking person I’ve ever encountered. Not because he’s ugly or deformed or anything, but because he looks completely ageless. His hair is long and full but completely gray. His eyes are light blue and seem to be shining, but there are wrinkles at the corners. I can’t tell if he’s sixty or twenty.
“Uh, yes, hi. My name is—”
“Eden Ricks,” he drones. “Yes, I was expecting you.”
I bite my lip and suddenly recognize his voice. I spoke with him over the phone when I answered that ad.
“Are you Mr. Hammett?” I ask.
The man chuckles. “No, my name is Fox. I’m, well, I suppose you’d call it a butler.” His laugh is a little rueful. “Come inside, dear. I’ll take you to Master Case.”
I bite my lip and nod as Fox turns and heads inside. I follow after him at a quick pace, which doesn’t give me much time to look around as the door swings shut behind me.
Paintings line the hallway and the floorboards creak with every step. Somehow, Fox doesn’t seem to make any noise, and I feel like a stampeding rhino barreling along behind him.
We turn a corner, and he stops in front of a wood-paneled door with a large, ornate knob. “This is Master Case’s study,” Fox says to me. “You may only ever enter here with permission. Do you understand?”
I blink. “Yes,” I say. “But, um—”
“Wait here.” Fox knocks once then enters.
I catch a glimpse of the room. Big bookshelves, a fireplace with a fire crackling along, plush velvet chairs, an enormous wooden desk, and a man sitting behind it, the man I’m here to see, his handsome face glancing up from a laptop, his mouth opening—
“Are you the new girl?”
I nearly jump out of my skin.
I turn just as Fox closes the door behind him. A woman stands near me, maybe a couple years older than me. She’s pretty with long blonde hair, light brown eyes, pale milky skin. She’s wearing a light sundress, pale yellow in color, and it shows off her breasts and arms. I can’t help but look at her and it takes me a second to realize that she’s waiting for an answer.
“Yes,” I manage to respond. “I mean, I think so. I’m here for an interview.”
She laughs. “You’re the only one. He’ll take you on, if you think you can handle it.”
I bite my lip. “It’s just cleaning, right?
I mean, how big is this house?”
“Oh, it’s not the house,” she says lightly. “Don’t you know?” She steps toward me, a little grin on her lips. “The Hammetts are killers.”
I stare at her for a second as the door behind me opens. Fox steps out and glares at the woman.
“Mistress Jessamine,” Fox says. “Are you being kind to our new guest?”
“Always am, Foxy boy,” Jessamine replies.
The name clicks in my head. Jessamine Hammett, younger sister of Case Hammett.
“Nice to meet you,” she says cheerily and walks away with a wave.
“Nice to meet you too,” I mumble after her.
“Come in,” Fox says, holding the door open for me. “He’s waiting.”
I step into the study. Fox closes the door behind me.
I’m greeted by the most beautiful man I’ve ever see in my life.
I’ve heard a lot about Case Hammett. He’s the third reason the Hammett family is so famous. He’s handsome, more handsome than any man has a right to be, and apparently, he’s brilliant. He was top of his class in high school and went to college at Harvard.
There are rumors that he came home early in disgrace, but I don’t know why.
Case smiles at me. He’s a notorious player and the only member of the Hammett family that still ventures out into town. Well, that isn’t fair, exactly.
The only two Hammetts left are Jessamine and Case. The others are all dead.
“Eden Ricks?” he asks me. “Take a seat.”
I hesitate but hurry over to one of the velvet-covered chairs. I sit down slowly, almost like I’m afraid I’ll stain the chair just from touching it.
He smiles at me again. His eyes are hazel, nearly green. His hair is a dirty blond, darker than his sister’s, long on top and pushed back. He’s dressed in a button-down and slacks, almost like he’s business casual, although he’s alone in here.
I suddenly feel myself flush staring at him. I can’t tell if it’s because his eyes are piercing into mine or because the fireplace is roaring a few feet away.
“Sorry about my sister,” he says. “She can be a little tough at first, but she’ll grow on you.”
“She seems nice,” I answer vaguely.
He laughs. “Right. Well, Eden, I’m Case. I’ll be your employer, I guess.” He grins a little, rubs the back of his head in this really endearing gesture. “Do you have any experience cleaning houses?”
“No,” I admit. “But I can work hard. I have other references, and a resume, if you want—” I reach into my bag, but he stops me.
“It’s okay, don’t worry. If I can be totally honest, what my sister said is right. We don’t have any other applicants.”
Relief and terror flood through me. “Really?”
“Sure,” he says. “Honestly, I’m surprised you answered. I mean, why would anyone want to work at Hammett’s End? Everyone that comes here ends up dead.”
I stare at him, eyes wide, and he bursts into laughter.
“Holy shit, your face right now,” he says, cracking up. “It’s pretty amazing.”
“Uh, er, sorry. I mean, what?”
He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Look, I know the reputation we have, okay? Truth is, there’s nothing weird about this place. It’s an old-ass house, and it’s a little creepy, but most old houses are. The rumors are just stupid rumors.”
“Of course,” I say quickly. “I mean, you know how Pine Grove is.”
“People love to talk,” he says, grinning.
“Exactly.”
Pine Grove is a small town. Rumors here spread like wildfire. Someone is always in your business, no matter what, and nothing stays hidden for long.
It’s also a great place to live. I missed it while I was away at college. Part of me never wanted to come back though, mostly because I’m afraid of being trapped here forever.
But I had to come back, at least for a while.
“Look, this isn’t shady or weird,” he says, smiling again. “You’ll work five days a week, five hours a day. I’ll pay you $50,000 a year, which is a stupidly absurd amount of money, but to be totally honest, we have to pay that much just to get anyone to answer the ad. So, if you’re interested, you’re hired. What do you think?”
I blink and frown. “I get weekends off?”
“Most weekends,” he corrects. “We’ll need you sometimes, but rarely.”
“Okay then,” I say. “I mean, it sounds like a great job.”
“Awesome,” he says, looking visibly relieved. “I’ve been doing most of the cleaning myself, on top of all the other crap I have to deal with.”
“Jessamine doesn’t pitch in?” I ask him.
He laughs at that. “You don’t know her yet, but you will.”
I smile at him and suddenly, all my hesitance, all my worry, slowly drifts away. I can see something in his gaze, something kind, something gentle.
I expected a monster. I mean, I know he’s a player, I know he’s smart, I know he’s rich. Everyone says how amazing he is, although he’s a psycho since he’s a Hammett.
But I don’t see anything but a handsome man looking for someone to help him clean his enormous house.
He hesitates a second. “Eden, can I ask you a little about yourself?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
“Tell me if I’m being a little too nosy, but I’m curious. Why did you come back to Pine Grove?”
I raise an eyebrow. “How’d you know I left?”
“You told Fox you went to Indiana University over the phone,” he points out. “I figured you weren’t commuting.”
I nod. “Yeah, right. I went to college, but my mom got sick last year. So here I am.”
“That sucks,” he responds. “Most people that leave this town stay gone.”
I smile a bit. “Not me, I guess.”
“Guess not.” He sighs. “Well, I’m glad you came back. I really do need the help.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best.”
“I’m sure you will.” He cocks his head. “One more thing. How come you weren’t too afraid to apply?”
“I’ve learned that you can’t take anything you hear in Pine Grove too seriously,” I say.
He laughs. “Okay, that’s a fair point.”
“Anyway, all the rumors are just so… over the top. I figure it’s just a bunch of people that are jealous of your family.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Could be,” he agrees. “Nasty rumors aside, we don’t have a lot of fans in town.”
“Nobody does. They just normally hide it better.”
He grins at that. “Okay then, Eden. How about you start tomorrow?”
“Sounds good. Is there anything I need to bring?”
He shakes his head. “Just clothes you’re comfortable cleaning in. I’ll provide everything else.”
“Great.” I stand up. “Thanks a lot, Master—er, I mean, Mr. Hammett.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m barely ten years older than you. Call me Case.”
“Okay, Case. See you tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
I turn and head to the door. My heart starts beating fast again, but I can’t say why.
Maybe it’s because I’m not looking at his handsome face. I glance back, and he’s still looking at me. I swear, his eyes dart up to meet mine, and he smiles.
Oh, wow. Holy shit.
I just caught Case Hammett checking out my ass.
I leave his study, face red, heart racing even faster.
Fox is standing in the hall, waiting for me. He leads me back to the front door.
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” I tell him.
“Eight o’clock sharp,” he says. “Don’t be late.”
And with that, he shuts the door.
I turn away from Hammett’s End and start back down the driveway toward the old gate. I can feel my heart working overtime, and I don’t know what to expect.
; People say a lot of bad things about the Hammetts. They call Case a liar, a killer, a cheat. They say his sister is a psychopath. They say his father made people disappear. They say his mother was insane.
I don’t know how much of that I believe. Sure, the house is creepy, but it’s old. Case himself, though, he seemed totally normal.
More than that, he seemed nice, and funny, and really, really freaking gorgeous.
Maybe working here won’t be so bad after all.
2
Case
I hate living in Hammett’s End. I hate Pine Grove almost as much.
But it’s home and has been for a long, long time.
My family moved here just before the Civil War broke out. My great-great-whatever grandfather made his money during that war, and my grandfather made our fortune during World War II. Now my family owns most of Pine Grove, and all its wealth and power runs through Hammett’s End.
And since I’m the oldest living male relative left, it all comes through me.
I should love being the head of the family, but it’s not as great as it seems. Sure, we’re rich beyond anyone’s wildest dream, but all that money comes with a lot more responsibility. I’m in charge of keeping the mill afloat, despite a crappy economy. I’m in charge of our investments, our property, our rental units, everything. It all goes through me.