by Jeny Stone
“Boy, you should have got here earlier. I had a pretty little visitor and I might have shared her with you. She’ll be back tomorrow and you can meet her. You’ll see why we Presley men fell for the Abernathy clan.” Pops sounded more like his old self with a hint of excitement in his voice.
“What did she want?” He calmed his voice while he patted Pops’ frail hand. An ache grabbed his heart knowing these moments would soon end.
“To learn about her relatives. Your mom thinks I’m senile because I called her Louise. Abby and I always called her Louise when we talked. It’s her middle name, Hannah Louise Greer. She has grown up to be the exact replica of Louise.”
“Is that all you talked about, her past?” He hated to question Pops but he wanted answers about Hannah. She still could have other motives than just her history and he intended to find them if she did.
“What else would we talk about? If I wasn’t stuck in this bed, I would have done more than talk. Abby thought I was too young for her. Now, here comes another Abernathy and I’m too old. I might have to leave this one to you.” Pops’ laughter crackled with age.
“That’s the Pops I remember. How are you feeling today?” Garret sat in the chair beside his grandfather’s bed somewhat relieved.
“Like a spring chicken. You’re looking good. I was beginning to worry about you. You looked stressed the last time I saw you.”
“Everything is going fine. I got rid of the blood suckers at the foundation.”
Pops’ eyes looked livelier than Garret had seen in quite a while. Garret filled Pops in on all the family business. The old man liked to be kept up to date on family affairs, instead of being treated as if he were already dead and buried. Garret respected him enough to ignore his failing health. He talked to the vivid mind of his grandfather that still functioned inside his decaying body.
CHAPTER SEVEN
By his grandfather’s request, Garret drove to the end of the lane to Hannah’s cottage. After all, she was in possession of all four paintings and he wanted to see her again. At least, now that he knew, she wasn’t after his money. If she wanted to waste her time trying to locate some hidden gold, it was her choice. In a court of law, the gold, if ever located, might be ruled to belong to her anyway.
Garret stopped in front of the cottage. He exited his car to face his angry nymph. Oh yeah, she was going to be pissed. As mad as she was yesterday, he might get shot if she owns a gun. He regretted scaring her but after he explained she would understand. The situation was almost comical. They both wanted the paintings because of their grandparents. Their meeting and their mutual search for the paintings might actually be a coincidence. Although, she probably wanted the paintings to find the treasure. He would soon find the answer, if she didn’t kill him first.
The old cottage he remembered from his youth was restored. The transformation was impressive. The restoration must have taken extensive research and a lot of work to look this good this fast. He should have hired her to do his townhouse as quickly as she finished this project. He knocked on the newly varnished door. The pitter patter of footsteps stopped as the door swung toward him. He stepped back to avoid being slammed by the heavy door.
Yep, she was pissed. “Are you going to invite me in?” He ignored her frown and the piercing daggers in her fiery blue eyes. He had always heard a blue flame burned hotter. He was about to find out if there was any truth to that old adage.
The last person in the world, Hannah expected to be standing on her stoop, stood on her stoop as if nothing happened yesterday. He obviously was void of even a lick of common sense or arrogantly oblivious to other people’s feelings. Either way, his unexpected appearance wasn’t welcomed, no matter how handsome he looked in casual clothes.
“Hell no, I most certainly am not. Maybe, I’m the one that needs a restraining order. Why are you here? Wait, let me correct that question. What do you want now?” She saw no reason to hide her anger now that he was the trespasser.
This was the tantrum throwing Hannah he saw in the video at the bar. Damn, she was sexy. “I probably deserve that. I might have jumped to conclusions about your motives. I wasn’t sure which fortune you were after.”
“Motives? Fortune?” She spat the words as her body reverberated from the furious stomp of her foot. “Oh my God, you think I’m after your money. I don’t need or want your money. I actually work for what I have and I make more than enough to get by. Believe it or not, people have lives that don’t involve tricking you out of a piddling of your wealth. There are some things in life more important than money.”
“And yet you’re holding on to the paintings for a better price.” Her angry blush matched her red dress. He ripped her dress off her sexy body with his eyes. He knew what treasures were hidden under that dress. Treasures he wanted to see, touch, taste and so much more.
“I’m not going to waste my breath, trying to explain to you what those paintings mean to me. Those paintings are a part of my heritage … not yours. They’re not for sale at any price.” Had he even heard a word she had said? His gaze seemed distant above the strange grin on his lips.
“Paintings that you think will lead you to a fortune. I’m feeling generous, so I’ll pay whatever you want for the paintings. More than any gold you might find. It’s important to my grandfather and I’m running out of time. Surely, you saw how frail he’s getting.” He lost track of his goal for a moment. In trying to raise her temper gauge for his own amusement, he temporarily forgot the paintings were to please his grandfather.
“No … They aren’t for sale. You are an arrogant ass to even think I would sell them. I don’t want them to look for a treasure that I don’t even believe exists. Why does everything have to be about money with you? Isn’t there something of your grandfather’s you want to keep to remember him, other than his money? What price would you put on that?”
Oh great, now she thought he was a heartless bastard. That may be truer than she thought but not where his grandfather was concerned. “I want to remember I fulfilled a promise. I promised Pops those paintings. He believes in the treasure and he promised that woman he would solve the mystery. It all sounds idiotic to me, but it’s his dream. Otherwise, I wouldn’t give a shit about some paintings.”
“Do you mean Abby, my grandmother?” The truthfulness in his voice was surprising. She understood him wanting to please his grandfather. She wondered how far she would go if the circumstances were reversed. The answer was clear. She would go to hell and back.
“I guess. I don’t listen to details about some fairy tale. Can we come to some kind of agreement for his sake?” His conceding tone prompted her to look closer. There was weariness in his face along with a slight droop to his shoulders. Exhaustion had invaded her big strong man.
“I’m not selling them. Let me make that perfectly clear. What do you have in mind?” She stared into his eyes scrutinizing every glimmer or involuntary movement. Making a judgment call with her softening heart could be a fatal mistake. His eyes spoke of the truth and a great deal of agitation. No, wasn’t a word that sat well with Garret Presley, tired or not.
“Loan them to him. Or at least let him see them and tell him you have them. If he knew they were with you it might be enough.”
She had already decided to show the paintings to Pops. She planned to bring them to him on her next visit, which now, may be never. The paintings carefully packed in the trunk of her car were meant to be shared by people who would appreciate their meaning. Who better, than someone that knew and loved her ancestors? Just because Garret was involved, wasn’t a reason to back out. She glared him a warning. “Wait here.” There was always the added feature of making him feel like an ass.
She typed a loan agreement on her computer. After she printed the document she retrieved the paper and a pen. When she turned to bring them to the door, she bumped into Garret. Crap, how long had he been standing there? Instead of backing away from his intimidation tactic, she smacked the paper on his chest.
“Sign it.” The pen waved from her other hand as she stood her ground.
Garret placed his hand over hers, which she quickly slid down, leaving his on the paper. So, she still thought she had a choice in regards to them. He stretched out the paper to read. His eyes went from the agreement to her eyes. The fire radiating out of her eyes raised a fire inside him. He had waited way too long to relive that night and he was horny as hell after being tied up with work. His mouth salivated as a whiff of strawberries infiltrated his nostrils.
The crux of the agreement sunk in to his preoccupied mind, gripping his attention. She agreed to loan the paintings to Garret Presley for the remainder of Grant Presley’s life.
Garret placed the paper on an end table and read it again away from her as a distraction. “Thank you. This will make him very happy and will drive my father up a wall. You didn’t have to have an agreement. I would have made sure you got them back.”
He signed the agreement, leaving it on the table with the pen. He was truly thankful this particular headache was over. If she hadn’t obtained all the paintings he may never have found them. Now, he could move on to more pressing matters. The thought of playtime with her was pressing hard against his shorts.
“I may be overly generous with things I treasure but I know how to legally protect them. The paintings are in the trunk of my car. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for your grandfather because it’s what my grandmother would want.” She tossed her car keys up in the air then stomped to her door.
Snatching the keys in mid-air he followed her to the door. “Are you coming to the house today? Pops is expecting you.” He walked outside to the stoop.
What in the hell was wrong with this man? “And give you the pleasure of having me arrested for trespassing? I don’t think so. You can explain to him what an ass he has for a grandson.” Hannah shut the door. She watched him from the window concealed by a veil of creamy semi-sheer curtains. His manly scent had filled the room. He smelled so damn good.
Garret felt like he lost the game over the possession of the paintings. Where was the usual elation he felt over a win? This feeling was ridiculous since he got what he came after and hadn’t paid a penny. He opened her trunk almost hoping to find it empty so he could continue the battle. He checked the box verifying the paintings were inside. After he placed the box in his trunk, he pushed down on the trunk lid. He remained with his hands resting on the top of the trunk. He missed something prudent in this scenario and he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Damn, her keys needed to be returned but that would mean facing her disapproval. Why that bothered him, he wasn’t sure, but it did. Pops had asked him to come to her house to give her a ride. Thanks to his temper yesterday, she wasn’t coming to see him today or maybe ever. He knew why that nagged at his gut. He deprived his grandfather of someone that brought him pleasure during his last remaining days.
Garret walked toward the cottage, turned around, returned to his car and leaned on the side of his car. What had he missed? His options to correct the mess he created were limited and for the most part sucked. In any other similar circumstance, he would leave her keys in the trunk, and then drive home with his prize. Unfortunately, she was an important part of the prize as far as his grandfather was concerned and his starving dick. Walking away from her wasn’t a viable option. He had to have his fill, satisfy his curiosity before he could wipe her out of his mind and move on.
He walked back to the cottage. He pounded on her door. She opened the door, keeping her hand on the door knob. She blocked the door way, holding out her hand for the keys. If she didn’t have him by the balls he would have pushed his way inside. Just to prove how ridiculous her attempted blockade really was. He dropped the keys in her hand.
“I would do anything for that old man. He wants to see you. Would you please come back to the house for him?” If she refused she would find herself in his arms.
Garret Presley was a man of many faces. She had seen the seducer, the lover, the poor loser, the family defender, and now, surprisingly, a man with a heart. She knew she should go to the house for the elderly Mr. Presley. She enjoyed hearing about her relatives. Pops wouldn’t be on this earth much longer. His memories would die with him, along with any chance she had of learning about her heritage first hand. Setting aside her apprehension of Garret, Hannah relented to his invitation. With Louise’s journal in her hand, she shut her door.
Garret followed her down the walkway opening her gate in a gentlemanly fashion. When he opened the passenger door of his car she walked past, toward his home. “No thank you, I’ll walk. It’s safer.” Hannah wasn’t about to get trapped anywhere with him. She agreed to see his grandfather, not him, especially not alone.
So, she had a stubborn streak. She caved on the paintings, which proved she wasn’t that mad. His car faced the opposite direction. He drove to the nearest area that enabled him to turn the car around. Slowly driving behind her, he watched her hips sway, remembering their soft firmness in his hands. Having her back in his bed topped his want list with the rest of his quests completed. Her fiery mood heightened his desire. Tonight was a good a night as any to have his postponed play date. Garret lowered his window as he drove the car beside her. She glanced his way out of the corner of her eyes before walking faster.
“Hey sexy, need a lift?” She was going to need some coaxing. His memory served as a reminder, she was worth a little effort. “I’m a safe driver. Give me one good reason why you won’t get in the car.”
Hannah abruptly stopped with the smug amusement in his voice grating on her nerves. She relented on the paintings but she wasn’t included in the agreement. He slammed on the brake. “I’ll give you two.” Hannah extended her arms toward him with the journal in one hand. She glared accusingly point blank into his eyes. Hannah resumed her walk, not waiting on a response or reaction
His teasing was less amusing as he stared at his handprints bruised into her arms. He had never intentionally hurt a woman in his life. The reddish blue marks on her silky skin told a different story. Garret shifted the gears into park, leaving the door opened as he took several strides to catch her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. She jerked it off as she turned to face him, taking a step back. He had missed the glint of fear hidden in her angry demeanor. The look on her face twisted a queasy knot in his stomach. Fear blatantly clashed with her angelic face. She should be protected not harmed in any way.
Garret extended his arms with his palms pointed upwards. “May I see?” He asked cautiously. Hannah tilted her head, staring into his eyes with a wary scrunch in her brows.
She felt tiny in the shadow of his towering presence with the memory of her helplessness fresh on her mind. The honest concern in his eyes gave her courage knowing he could effortlessly force her to comply. She placed the journal under her armpit raising her arms just out of his reach.
He took a small step, gently sliding his hands under hers. Damn, she flinched tightening the knot in his stomach. With a loose grip he turned her arms to assess the damage. Those were his handprints embedded in her flesh. He remembered being furious and pinning her down. He had underestimated his strength. No, he hadn’t cared at the time. With his family in danger he had demanded answers at any cost. He not only scared her, he actually hurt her. His stomach churned nauseously. His anger turned inward pointed at his appalling actions.
With honest conviction in his sickened heart, he made a solemn promise he knew he would keep. “Hannah, I swear on my grandfather. I will never hurt you again.” Garret dropped her hands and walked to his car. The look on her face invaded his mind with an onslaught of guilt. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling that ached in his chest. He shifted his car into drive. He drove passed her with his gaze focused forward. He wanted to blame her for being at his house. That theory wouldn’t hold water if he believed she didn’t know he was a Presley and unfortunately, he did. The damn knot tightened.
Slightly disorientated by his reaction
and hers Hannah continued her walk. Garret seemed genuinely shocked to see the bruises he caused. What did he think would happen as he squeezed the blood out of her arms? His promise was worthless if he couldn’t control his temper and words didn’t make the bruises disappear. Her arms still tingled from the gentleness of his steely hands. Distance … distance … distance … she reminded herself. Those were the same hands that caused the bruises in the first place.
Hannah rang the doorbell still not sure this visit was a good idea. Under any other circumstances she never would have agreed to be anywhere within a fifty mile radius of that man, let alone, in his home. She couldn’t contribute her irrational behavior to some subconscious need buried deep in her mind. No, her dying thirst to be loved was always in full view of her mind’s eye and she felt the empty hole in her heart with each lonely beat. So what, if she was looking for the missing piece of her life in dead relatives. Her whole family was gone so there wasn’t anywhere else to look. She had pondered her obsessive quest to learn about her heritage. Her loveless childhood had left some serious scars. As asinine as it seemed, it didn’t change the fact, she was searching for an explanation for her parents’ inability to love her. She wouldn’t ever find anyone to love her as long as she felt like an accidental pregnancy, a burden, an obstacle in her parents’ otherwise perfect lives. She hoped the elderly Mr. Presley would help her find the answers she so desperately sought to fill the void in her heart or she wouldn’t be standing in front of Garret’s door now.
The door opened after the first ring of the doorbell. “Garret said you were right behind him. You should have ridden with him.” Mrs. Presley waved her inside.
“I love the walk and fresh air. I brought Louise’s journal to read to Pops.” Her nervousness eased with witnesses present. She assumed Garret wouldn’t dare get out of hand in front of his parents.