by Liz Isaacson
“Practically perfect,” she teased, stepping away. “I better go.”
“Okay.” Gray picked up her suitcase and headed down the hall to the elevator. “I talked to my parents about buying the farm yesterday.”
A couple of beats of silence passed, and then Elise asked, “And?”
“My father is going to put together an offer, and Ames said he’d help me go through the granny house to make sure it’s ready for them to move into.”
“And when will you move out there?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “We’ll see how things go. My dad has a ton of stuff in his office he thinks he needs.”
“How big is the granny house?”
“Three bedrooms, two baths,” he said. “So he could have an office over there.”
“Grams will move too?”
“Yes,” Gray said. “The granny house was built specifically for the older generation to move into when someone else takes over the farm. It’s all one level. Wheelchair accessible showers. A ramp already built-in. That kind of thing.”
“Sounds very forward-thinking.”
“That’s the Hammond way,” Gray said with plenty of gusto. “Always planning and looking ahead.” As he spoke, he realized why his parents asked what they had. Gray had never done anything like this before. He didn’t have long-distance relationships, and he didn’t do much of anything without a three-year plan.
Elise giggled, and he waited until they were in the elevator together before kissing her again. “Gray,” she said, laughing.
“I miss you already,” he murmured, kissing her until the ding sounded and he had to step back. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt while the door slid open. He took Elise’s suitcase out and led her out to the pull-in circle.
The valet left to get her car, and they stood out of the way while they waited.
“I hate saying good-bye,” Elise said as her car pulled up.
“I do too.”
“Now you know why Wes and Bree just got married.” She tossed him a smile and went around to the driver’s side. He stared after her. What was she saying? Just because he didn’t want to say good-bye didn’t mean he wanted to get married. Did it?
Did he love her?
He blinked and ducked his head, trying to figure out how he felt. He’d removed himself from his feelings for so long, he wasn’t sure what was happening. He did know how to lift a suitcase into the trunk, and he did that before stepping around to where she stood.
She’d put her purse in the car, and she gave the valet driver a tip while he waited. He put his happy face on as he engulfed her in a hug. “Drive safe, okay?”
“I will.”
“Call me if you get bored. I’ll talk you all the way home.”
She laughed, and Gray did too. Saying good-bye was terrible, but Gray wasn’t going to make it worse than it already was. When Elise pulled away, Gray let her go. She got behind the wheel, and he waved as she drove off.
He stood there, watching her car until he couldn’t see it anymore. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled, saying, “That was awful.”
And in that moment, he knew he didn’t want to continue the long-distance dating. What he didn’t know was what he should do about it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Cy Hammond entered the back door of the shop, the familiar scent of motor oil and concrete meeting his nose. Ah, he loved that smell. It was what good days were made of, and he couldn’t wait to add the California sunshine to the mix.
“I put the mail on your desk,” Wade said as Cy went by.
“Thanks.” Cy hardly looked at the mail, and he didn’t much care about it. He stopped to chat with McCall, his best mechanic, and then he wandered into the conference room, where he was soon joined by the team that chose the veteran who would be getting a custom bike built for them.
“Who have we got today?” he asked, facing the huge, white wall at the end of the room where the presentations were projected.
“Major David Darcy,” Tammy said. “He retired a couple of years ago, and he’s got a service dog who lives with him full-time. His wife wrote in.”
The man’s picture flashed up on the wall while Tammy detailed what the Major dealt with on a day-to-day basis. Hearing loss. Migraines. Panic in large crowds.
“They moved to Lubbock, Texas,” Winslow said. “It’s a slower pace of life. They just have the one son left at home; he’s a senior.”
“And the dog,” Cy said, because he knew that dogs were perpetual toddlers.
“And the dog,” Winslow confirmed. “Regina said Dave likes hiking and fishing, getting outside, and Star Wars, so our conceptual is a space-themed bike.” A new image brightened the wall, first a sketch while Dom went over the specs for the bike.
Dave was over six feet tall, and that required some adjustments from a standard motorcycle.
“And finally,” Dom said. “Regina sent us their family motto. Darcy’s are winners.”
Cy grinned at that. He needed a personal motto that was better than get up before noon. He had terrible insomnia, and if he could push past his first initial wall at about eleven, he could stay up all night.
“We thought we’d put that on the gas tank, so the Major can remember that he won.”
“I like that,” Cy said. He rarely came into the shop these days, and he liked the energy here. He came for the monthly meetings, and yes, he visited the office on the second floor several times a week. He had to pay for things, after all, and manage inventory, handle payroll, and ensure their customer service couldn’t be beat.
He missed the weight of a wrench in his hand, and the thrill of designing a new bike for someone. He only did a couple of projects a year now, and only for the highest profile clients. The rest of his time was spent on advertising and back-end business dealings. The boring stuff no one wanted to do, but someone had to do in order to keep the doors open.
“Cy?”
He looked over his shoulder to the door, where Marissa stood. “You have a call. She said it’s urgent.”
“She did?” For a moment—one terrible moment—he thought it was Mikaela, finally calling to tell him she’d made a huge mistake by breaking up with him all those months ago. He couldn’t believe he had gone immediately to that, and he frowned as he stood up.
“Yes,” Marissa said, her eyes holding some trepidation.
He knocked on the table and said, “This is all great, guys. Let’s make it happen.” That was his motto. Make it happen.
He followed Marissa down the hall to her desk. “Who is it?”
“Candice,” she said. “She said it’s urgent.”
“I don’t even know who Candice is,” he said.
“She owns this building, sir,” Marissa said. “Should I transfer it to your office?” She picked up the phone, her eyebrows also lifted.
“Yes,” he said, hurrying back down the hall to the huge office in the corner. Some days, when he was restless, he would jog down the hall, tap his knuckles against the elevator doors, and jog back. Over and over.
His parents had never medicated him growing up, and as an adult, Cy had found ways to deal with his extra energy. He’d bought rubber bands to wear around his wrists to help himself focus, and he did two thousand piece jigsaw puzzles to force his mind to slow down.
The phone was ringing when he opened the door, and he jogged to the desk in front of the windows. “Cy Hammond,” he said after picking up the phone.
“Cy,” Candice said, her voice curt. She always sounded like she’d just sucked on a lemon, and Cy turned into Serious Businessman Cy in the blink of an eye.
“Hello, Candice,” he said.
“Did you get my letter?”
“Oh, um, I haven’t opened the mail yet.” He looked down at his desk, where an enormous stack of mail waited for him. The boys downstairs sorted it for him, and Marissa was likely the one who’d put it on his desk, despite what Wade had said. Wade ran the shop downstairs, so he’d likely gone throug
h it first. Marissa usually combed through it as well, with a finer tooth than Wade
“Well,” she said. “It was days ago, Mister Hammond.”
He looked up, aware of the bite in her tone. The Mister Hammond gave away her annoyance too. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We’ve been pretty busy around here.” They were always busy. Beyond busy.
“I’m afraid you’re going to be busier,” she said.
Cy pulled the rubber band on his arm. “Oh?”
“I’m selling the building, Mister Hammond. The dates and details are in the letter I sent you. I’m sure you’re aware your lease is up at the end of August, and I hate to say it, but I’ll need you out of the property on the last day of that month.”
Cy just stood there, trying to process her words. The rubber band thwacked against his wrist. Thwap, thwap, thwap.
“The end of August,” he said. It was the middle of June. That was only two and a half months, and it generally took them longer than that to build a custom bike. Should they even start on the Major’s motorcycle?
Probably not, Cy thought, his mind jumping to another train of thought, then another, while Candice started talking again.
He didn’t even know how to pack up the two floors his custom motorcycle shop occupied, and move it…where? Where could he move it?
He couldn’t just take any space. He needed a multi-functional space, with big bay doors in the back, a shop in the front, offices, a conference room….
“Cy?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m still here.”
“Can you confirm that you understand I need that property cleared on September one?”
He very nearly scoffed, his frustration roaring through him now. September one. Why couldn’t she just say September first like a normal person?
“Yes,” he said. “I understand.”
“Anything left behind at that time will become my property, and I’ll get to decide what to do with it.”
“I understand,” he said, his voice on the cold side. He tried to care, but he’d just learned he had ten weeks to find a new building. He thought of his employees. They lived and worked here in Solana Beach. He couldn’t expect them to relocate.
He’d just have to find a new building right here in town. The call ended, and he moved around the desk and collapsed into the chair. He faced the windows and looked out. Just past the rooftops of the houses across the street, he could see the ocean.
No matter where he found his next building, he knew it wasn’t going to be as good as this one. Here, he could walk a hundred yards and dip his toes in the surf.
“Is this a joke, Lord?” He tipped his head back and looked up to the ceiling. Through it, to the heavens above. “It’s not a funny one.”
Cy knew it wasn’t a joke at all.
He’d been in this building for eight years, and he didn’t even know how to go about finding somewhere to lease.
Maybe you should build your own building. The thought came into his mind, and Cy never was one to discount such things. He believed they came straight from God Himself, and Cy picked up his phone.
“Dad,” he said when his father picked up.
“Cy.” His father chuckled. “How are you, son? How’s California?”
“Great,” Cy said, wishing he were out on the beach with his board shorts and not a care in the world. But the Hammond boys had not been raised not to care about things. Even he and Ames, though they were a bit eccentric with their clothes and what they’d chosen to do with their billions, knew how to take something seriously. How to work. How to be a Hammond.
“Listen, Dad,” Cy said. “I just found out I’m losing my lease, and I need a new building. What kind of advice have you got for me?”
This last building had sort of landed in his lap by divine providence. Cy couldn’t hope for such a thing to happen again. But if there was one thing his father was really good at, it was giving advice.
He talked about finding a commercial real estate agent in the area. Then he said, “And you know, Cy, you could build your own building.”
“Yeah, I thought of that, Dad.” The thought grew teeth and sunk itself into Cy’s mind. “I just don’t think I can do it in ten weeks.”
“Ah, I see. That is a problem.”
“And Solana Beach has strict zoning regulations.” Cy knew, because he’d been to court a couple of times over the alleged noise violations from his shop. He’d won every time, because he was located in a commercial zone, and he followed the noise ordinances to the T.
“Maybe you go somewhere else,” Dad suggested.
“It’s an idea,” Cy said, his mind starting to wander. He couldn’t ask his staff to go wherever his whims took him. Could he?
There were mechanics all over the country, and he reasoned he could possibly pay to relocate his design team and people like McCall and Wade. “If they want to come,” he whispered to himself.
“Listen, while I’ve got you,” Dad said. “I wanted to talk to you about the farm.”
“What about it?” His focus sharpened again, and he spun away from the windows.
“Gray wants to buy it. He and Hunter are going to take over.”
Cy’s eyebrows flew toward his hairline. “Wow.”
“I wanted to call all the other boys and make sure that’s okay with them before I allow Gray to do it.”
“I don’t want the farm, Dad,” Cy said, though he could use the land to build a great, big custom bike shop…. He shook his head. He wasn’t going to do that. His father would never allow it, for one. And if Cy thought the neighbors here complained…he knew they’d be worse in Ivory Peaks.
“Okay,” Dad said. “I figured.”
“I didn’t think Hunter and Gray wanted it either. I’m surprised by that.”
“Well, Hunter worked out here all summer,” Dad said. “I think some of the farming bug bit him. And Gray’s retired now. Life is different for him.”
“You mean he has more time now.”
“Yes,” Dad said. “And the farm is a great way to spend your time.”
“That’s true,” Cy said. “All right, Dad. I have to go.”
“Love you, son.”
“I love you too, Dad.” Cy hung up and faced the windows again. He’d never thought the farm was a great way to spend his time, because he’d never wanted to do farm chores in his spare time. He supposed that now, all of Gray’s time was spare time, and Cy did crave a small-town life every now and then.
It was one of the reasons California had appealed to him so much. The laid-back atmosphere in a small, coastal city like Solana Beach appealed to him.
“Maybe you should relocate,” he murmured to himself. No matter what he did, he wasn’t going to find another building by staring out the window. He turned, picked up his phone, and flipped open his laptop. It was time to find a commercial real estate agent.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Elise had just buttered her toast when knocking sounded on the cabin door. Hutch barked, his voice so loud. He came skidding into the kitchen, his whole body wagging.
Her heart skipped and stuttered even as the doorbell sang. “Yeah,” she said. “Someone’s here.”
Not just someone. Gray and Hunter were here.
“Come in,” she called, heading for the doorway that led into the living room. “Shush, Hutch.” The big dog stopped barking, but he was so dang excited to have visitors. Elise knew how he felt.
A moment later, Gray’s tall frame walked through the front door, and everything inside Elise rejoiced. He wore a pair of jeans with a red, white, and blue polo, and that cowboy hat she loved so much.
He was perfectly patriotic. She giggled as she ran toward him, and he received her into his arms with a laugh too. Hutch tried to get in between them, and Gray chuckled.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” he said, his strong arms around her so perfect and so tight. He did not let the dog he’d bought for her nose his way between them, not even a little bit.
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br /> “I saw you last night,” she said. “On the video chat.”
He looked up at her, because he’d literally swept her off her feet. “It’s not the same.” He set her down and kissed her with enough passion to tell her Hunter was still in the truck and wouldn’t be coming in.
This was definitely not anything like the video chat, and Elise hoped she could convey her feelings to Gray through her touch too.
Hutch started barking, and Elise found him such a nuisance sometimes.
“Mm,” Gray finally said, pulling away. “We better go, or we’ll be late.”
“The Whittakers saved a spot big enough for everyone,” Elise whispered, not wanting to go. She didn’t want to share Gray with anyone today, not even his son. But they had a full day of Independence Day festivities planned down the canyon in town, and Elise knew she wouldn’t be getting what she wanted.
She stepped out of his arms and did a little twirl. “Well? How’s my patriotic outfit?”
He scanned her from head to toe, his eyes taking on a deep glint of desire. “Amazing.”
She wore a blue dress with red and white stripes sewn into it like the flag was waving across her torso. She’d designed it herself and sewn it right at the kitchen table. She smiled at him. “Thank you. How was the fishing?”
“Great,” he said. “We both enjoyed it. Caught a few things we made for dinner last night.”
“And you’re at Colton’s? Or Wes’s?” He reached down absently as Hutch kept pestering him for a pat.
“Colton’s for a couple of nights,” he said. “I guess Annie’s daughter just got engaged, and they’ve got a whole thing going on in the formal dining room. Plans and all of that.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Elise said. “I think Eden and Mitchell are aiming for a Christmas wedding.” She held back her sigh, though a Christmas wedding sounded like the most perfect thing on the planet.
“Then we’ll be at Wes’s,” Gray said.
“And did you buy the farm?”
He chuckled, his hand sliding along her hip again. “You know what that means, right?”
“Buy the farm?”