Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3

by Laurie Larsen

  He strolled over to the table, a pad of paper in his hand. “You don’t mind sharing numbers with me? It’s mighty personal stuff.”

  “No, I don’t mind.” She smiled. It hadn’t even occurred to her to hesitate sharing her information with him.

  So, the next forty minutes they bowed over the paper, Hank asking questions about assets and debt, bills and income, inheritance and equity. Finally, they came up with a six-digit number of her own on the bottom of the page. Hank circled it in red.

  “It’s not as big as the number on the sheet.” She shuffled underneath their papers and pulled out the realtor’s sheet. “I’m short.”

  “Mmmm hmmmm.” He tapped on the number with his pen. “But not by much. Would you want to rent it out? Get some income from it?”

  She shrugged. “Why would I buy a beautiful house on the beach and then not even live in it myself? Especially when I don’t have anywhere else to live, other than a hotel?”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  She shoved the papers away. “It’s a pipedream, Hank. It doesn’t even make sense. It’s a huge vacation home. It can accommodate dozens of people. Why would I live out there all by myself?” She sighed. “I think I’m just feeling nostalgic. I’ve always loved that place, all my summers there, and I have so many wonderful memories there. I need a place to live, so I think I’m trying to force-fit it. If I want to live on the beach I should probably find a condo or something. Don’t you think?”

  She turned to him but he didn’t look convinced.

  “What if you weren’t alone out there?” he asked. “Would that change your mind?”

  “A roommate? I don’t know. I’m not crazy about living with someone I don’t know. Not at my age.”

  He looked like he was going to say something, but he shook his head instead. “Give me a week, will you? Don’t make a decision for an entire week, and let me work on something. If it works out, I’ll tell you. If it doesn’t, you can look for something else.”

  She took in the determination etched into the lines on his face, the optimistic look in his eyes. “What are you up to?”

  “One week.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now, what about those steaks?”

  * * *

  The week passed quickly with Leslie’s new school year routine: waking to the sounds of ocean waves crashing on the beach, taking a brisk two-mile walk on the sand, enjoying a continental or hot breakfast with coffee at the Inn, heading out to school. Her class had settled in. She was enjoying teaching the older kids, while still adjusting to their inflated attitudes. In the evenings, she’d see Hank and they’d spend simple time together, eating, shopping, occasionally taking in a movie, but always talking and sharing their day, their stories. At the Inn, Marianne had become a friend and Leslie looked forward to seeing her as well as Stella, who always brought a smile to her face.

  The next Saturday, Hank came over to the Inn for lunch. Guests had diminished due to the end of summer, so they had the corner of the dining room to themselves. Once Marianne had served them their tuna salad on croissants and fruit plate, Hank said, “I have some news about the Old Gray Barn.”

  Leslie nodded. She looked up from her lunch plate to see his intense look of concentration.

  “Do you remember that number in red I circled last week? The amount you’re short for buying the Barn?” She nodded. “Well, I’ve come up with a way to cover that amount.”

  She stilled. “Hank, I don’t want to be in debt up to my ears. This stuff is all new to me and …”

  He placed his hand on top of hers. “No additional debt for you.”

  She frowned. “Tell me.”

  He cleared his throat and put his fork down. “Darlin’, I can’t give you many details at this time. But I can tell you I’ve researched it and I know it’ll work. This is the answer to your fund shortage. You put a bid in on the house. If it is accepted, I’ll put this plan into play and I promise you, you’ll eventually know everything about it. But I gotta do things in the right order, in the right time. It’s not the time to reveal everything right now.”

  She stared. A flicker of nerves penetrated. “I don’t understand. This is something really important. I know you’re helping me, but I don’t get it. What, is this some phantom investor or something?”

  He smiled. “No, not at all. You don’t need to know the whole story right now, trust me. All I need to know is, if you were able to buy the house for the amount we wrote on the paper last week — the amount you could come up with, before the shortage, would you want to? Would you buy the house?”

  All went silent. It felt like her life was on the line. So much rode on the answer. If she bought the Barn, she’d be committing to staying here on Pawleys Island long-term, paying off a long mortgage loan, something she’d never done on her own before. Was she jumping into this? Was she making an impetuous decision because of her childhood sentimentality?

  Or was God leading her here? It was always so difficult to tell.

  So she grabbed both Hank’s hands and held them in her own. “Let’s pray about it, Hank. Right now. I want to know what God wants me to do.”

  He smiled, bowed his head and closed his eyes. She admired his profile for a short moment before she did the same.

  “Dear Lord, first I want to thank You. Thank You for all the blessings in my life, and there are so many, I can’t even count them all. They’re all due to You. Thank You for putting me in the position that this decision is even possible. I can’t imagine my good fortune in being able to buy the house of my dreams, the house I’ve spent so many wonderful months in. But here it is, God. Hank tells me I can afford it. I have no idea what that means, or how much money I’d be spending every month, but I trust him, God. He wouldn’t lead me astray. What I want to know now, and You know You have to make it clear to me, is, what is Your will? What do You want me to do about this? Did You lead me down this path? Is it a blessed path or will it lead to disaster? Please tell me.” She looked up at Hank. He was concentrating on her words. “And quick. Please.”

  He chuckled. Together, “Amen.”

  “Take your time. An answer will come. You’ll feel it.”

  “I know. But it’s sure feeling right.” She stood and shook out her hands. “I don’t know if it feels right because I want it so bad — selfishly — or if God is giving me the green light.”

  Hank picked up his fork. “How about we finish lunch, then go for a swim?”

  She couldn’t think of anything better.

  * * *

  Monday evening, Leslie headed over to Hank’s house. He wasn’t home from work yet, but she let herself in with the key he’d given her. She walked through the living room, straight to the kitchen. On her way to the refrigerator to see what she could start for dinner, she gasped. The kitchen cabinets. They’d all been re-stained and they were practically glowing with a fresh, new pecan color. Jeremy’d been at it again.

  Delighted, she inspected the cabinets more closely. They were gorgeous. Jeremy had worked very hard on them and done a professional-caliber job. Fitting them in between paid odd jobs, and his new furniture building venture. Why did he take the time to re-do his dad’s cabinets when she was sure Dad hadn’t requested it?

  She ran her fingers over the smooth, glossy surface. Did Hank know? Oh, he’d grumble about Jeremy spending his time doing this free job when he should be working for pay. But Jeremy’s heart was in the right place.

  Leslie pulled two chicken breasts out of the freezer and stuck them in the microwave. She thawed them, and dug into the small pantry. She found a can of cream of chicken soup. Making a simple concoction, she combined the chicken, light seasoning, sliced potatoes and soup, covered it with a lid and slid it all into the oven. It’d be ready in less than an hour.

  She’d brought a bottle of wine to share over dinner and had left it in the car. She headed out the front door, to find Hank pulling his truck in behind her car in the driveway.

&nbs
p; “It sure does my heart good to see you here after a long day of work.” He pushed his truck door closed and leaned in to kiss her, careful not to wipe dust or sweat on her.

  “I’ve got dinner in the oven.”

  “Magnificent.”

  She grabbed the wine from her front seat and they walked into the house.

  “I’ll go take a quick shower and be right back down.”

  “Before you go, were you aware of some changes in your kitchen?”

  He gave her an odd look, then walked there. He sighed, shook his head. “They look nice, don’t they?”

  “They sure do. He does good work,” she said. “And with good intention.”

  “I knew he was working on them. He took the doors down on Saturday. He worked fast.”

  She couldn’t help recognize the pride in his voice.

  He turned to her and placed a quick kiss on her lips. “Something for you to mull over while I’m up there. I talked to Doug today, you know, the realtor. The sellers would consider a reduced bid.”

  He jogged up the stairs. She opened the bottle and poured herself a glass. When he returned, smelling heavenly and looking even better, she’d drank one and had poured a second. She fixed her eyes on his and he stopped before reaching her.

  “Yes. Yes, Hank. I want the house.”

  He pulled her to her feet, lifted her up and swung her around.

  * * *

  The bid process went much smoother than the worst case scenario Leslie had dreamed up in her head. With Hank at her side and Doug guiding them, her lack of experience didn’t matter. Because Hank had done such a great job laying everything out for her on paper, she knew exactly what financial commitment she was comfortable with. Because Doug advised them on what was a reasonable bid, they chose an amount to offer, and came up with a Plan B if it came back rejected. Doug drew up all the papers and headed off to talk with the sellers. All Leslie had to do was wait.

  On the way back to the Inn in Hank’s truck, she said, “So when are you going to tell me about this phantom investor? Why are you keeping that a secret?”

  He glanced over and his lips twisted into an affectionate smile. “Ahh, darlin’. Don’t worry about that. It’s not as mysterious as it sounds, you’ll see. Once the bid is accepted, I’ll tell you.”

  They walked on the beach, trying to forget Doug was speaking at that moment to the sellers, but Leslie kept her cell phone in her hand, not wanting to miss the ring if it were buried in her pocket. She tried not to dwell on it, but every time she pushed it out of her mind, the magnitude of her action overwhelmed her.

  She could be buying a house! On her own. Not just any house. Her favorite house in the world, a very expensive house, a house hundreds of miles away from home. But … that wasn’t home anymore. Nothing there was home for her. This … this was her new home. If they accepted her bid.

  Ahhhh.

  Fortunately, the swirling in her mind only went on for a few hours because Doug called. When his number appeared on her phone, she gasped and showed it to Hank. His eyes went wide and he pointed at it, nodding.

  She pushed Speaker and answered.

  “Leslie, the meeting with the sellers went very well.”

  “Really? How well?” Her voice was breathless, but let him think it was the wind from the beach blowing past the speaker.

  “They are willing to come down from their asking price, however not quite as low as you offered. They’re willing to meet you in the middle. So you need to decide if that’s acceptable to you.”

  She had no idea. No, wait. She did. She needed to think. No need to rush. She looked at Hank, he was motioning.

  “Tell him we’ll discuss it and call him right back.”

  She relayed the message into the phone and hung up. Her heartbeat raced and she felt like a boxer in the ring. She had the strange desire to bounce on her toes.

  Hank was the voice of calm. “What do you think about the counter offer?”

  She shook her head. She had no idea. Well, wait. Yes, she did. “It was our Plan B, right? If they didn’t accept our original bid, we already decided what we would do. As long as we stay within Plan B, we’re comfortable with it. Right?”

  He smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist. “You got it, gorgeous.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss. “And don’t worry about financing the extra amount. That won’t be on you. That’ll be on my side.”

  “Your secret financier?”

  He smiled and nodded.

  “Don’t you need to check with them?”

  “No, I’m well aware of what he can do. This is within his guidelines.”

  She inhaled deeply and puffed it out. “So we call Doug back and give him the counter offer?”

  “Sounds like it.”

  And she did. Doug took the information and told her to stand by because he didn’t think it’d be long. The buyers’ acceptance was a matter of course now.

  Leslie and Hank spent the few moments sharing a long, excited kiss on the beach. In fact, when the phone rang, they almost neglected to answer it.

  “Hello?” Her voice this time was deep and unfocused.

  “The house is yours. The sellers accepted your counter offer.”

  Hank gave a whoop and a holler and Leslie refrained from her impulse to throw her phone up in the air. He wrapped her in a warm, close hug and they ended with a kiss.

  * * *

  The next night, Leslie took inordinate care in her room to make sure her hair and makeup were perfect. After the excitement last night, Hank had invited her out to a dressy restaurant for a celebration dinner. Not only did she want to thank him for all his help with the house purchase process, she was craving a little romance.

  Because of the additional effort on her face, she ran late so she had the pleasure of answering the knock on her door, swinging it open to find him standing there, dressed in a full suit. Charcoal gray, cut to fit him to a tee, mauve shirt and burgundy tie. She’d never seen him this dressed up. The man dazzled in his masculinity. Suntanned face, all sign of stubble shaved away from his chin, his hair not only clean and combed, but the attempt to tame it was evident with some sort of product he’d undoubtedly rubbed through it with his fingertips. Little did he know she’d always liked his casual, loose hair.

  She’d always loved a man in a sharp suit, as well, and with a pang she remembered Tim dressed this way routinely every day. However, there was only one reason Hank was dressed this way tonight.

  For her.

  The fact that he’d pulled a suit out of his closet, or wait, bought a new one? “Where did you get the suit?” she blurted.

  He chuckled. “Believe it or not, an old low country boy does own a suit. Don’t wear it that often. But I pull it out, brush it off every now and again.”

  Now she felt bad because that was certainly not the first thing on her mind and by starting with it, it seemed to demean him somehow. To make up for it, she grabbed his hands and pulled him into the room.

  “Stand right there.” She pointed to the middle of her rug, then took measured steps around him, 360 degrees. He turned his head to watch her as far as he could, his cheeks coloring.

  “Mr. Harrison, you look mighty fine.” She drawled the “mighty fine” into a southern accent, drawing laughter from him. “No, now,” she admonished when he started to move. “I get another round to fully admire my dinner date this evening. I do believe I’ll be the luckiest lady in the restaurant tonight. Maybe even the whole island.”

  She’d made her way around him again, scanning him up and down and was face to face when he grabbed her and pulled her in for a long kiss. Heat seethed down her body and she went breathless under his lips. When they broke, he pulled her close for a long embrace. “I love you.”

  Just as his whispered words registered, he pulled apart enough to see her face. “I love you, Leslie. You’ve become such a big part of my life and I don’t want to think of a future without you in it.” He ducked his head, then focused in on her
again. “I know the time is bad for you. I know you’re newly divorced and you’re not as sure as I am. And that’s okay. I’m not asking for you to say it back to me. I want you to know it.”

  His words flowed over her. She closed her eyes and waited for a natural reaction. Would they make her scared? Nervous? Want to run? No. They were welcome. Because she felt the same way.

  “I love you too, Hank.”

  His face did a transformation. She knew his expressions because she’d spent so much time watching them. But anyone could read this one.

  “Ah, sweetheart, I can’t tell you how much it means to me. But I don’t want you to feel obligated to say it, now.”

  “I don’t.” She gave her head a fierce shake. “But I do. I love you, I mean. Why else would I take a job here? Buy a house here? I want to stay here. And the only reason I can think of, besides the gorgeous beach, of course, is you.”

  He laughed and came in for a kiss. She loved the feel of his lips on hers, loved how his kisses made her body react. “I haven’t been as sure of anything lately as I am about this. You’ve helped me become whole again.” He shook his head, frustrated. “I’m not that good with words, but darlin’, you’ve made me happy. You’ve made me want to rise above the failures of the past. You make me want to see the future.”

  She shook her head, speechless. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. How had she gotten so lucky to have met this man? When her life was in pieces, and her self-esteem was as low as it could go, she walked into the house where so many wonderful childhood memories had taken place, and there he was. Simple, gorgeous, hardworking Hank. The Old Gray Barn had brought them together, and now they were going out to celebrate the indisputable fact that she would become its new owner.

  Life was absolutely amazing.

  They headed out to a restaurant called Perrone’s. Hank had seen it ranked as the best restaurant on the island in a recent newspaper article, so he had chosen there to celebrate the new house. And, as it turned out, their newly declared love.

  “Get whatever you want,” Hank assured her. When she spotted the prices on the menu, she started to object. “No,” he insisted. “Whatever strikes your fancy. I know the food is fantastic here.”