by Petrova, Em
Back downstairs, he looked out the back door and spotted Josselyn weeding an old flower bed.
With her hair tied back in a slick ponytail, she wore little denim shorts, accentuating her shapely bottom, and a lilac top with tiny straps. She was undeniably beautiful, and he fought in vain against the attraction he felt toward the woman trying to take his home.
Though he never saw eye to eye with his father, he was still his son. Maybe genetics attracted them to the same woman.
She was making her mark on the house. Didn’t she realize it was a fruitless endeavor? Eventually the courts would side with him, and she would have to leave. After all, she was only Morgan’s nurse, and he was his son. In the back of his mind remained a nagging doubt. What if it didn’t work out that way?
He couldn’t allow himself to even consider the possibility of not winning. The fight might take some time, but he would get what was rightfully his. He would simply bide his time until his attorney could figure out a way to prove Josselyn’s will to be a fake or, at worst, the case ground its way through the courts.
In the meantime, he would wait. If she really was the gold-digging grifter he suspected beneath the sweet, perfect façade she presented, he knew she would be sly, guarded, and street-smart as well. Even the best cons made mistakes when they got too comfortable. Sooner or later she would slip up, and when she did, he would be ready to pounce.
Chapter Three
Josselyn sat at the butcher block kitchen table reading over a take-out menu from the local pizzeria, when Ben walked into the kitchen.
His short, sun lightened blond hair was still damp from the shower, and brushed back from his face. His skin, the color of the Indian summer, was evidence of his recent trip to California. He looked like a tall, tanned surfer boy, scrubbed and shaved, in tight jeans and t-shirt.
“Are you ordering in dinner?” he asked.
“Yes, this place delivers.”
“I wouldn’t mind having pizza tonight.”
“If you let me know what you want, I’ll order for you,” she offered.
“If you’re up for it, we could walk into town and eat at the restaurant instead, and have a glass of wine. It’s a lovely evening.”
She sensed an agenda. Suddenly acting so nice struck her as awfully suspicious. Still, she did want to make an effort to get along.
“If you’re sure...”
“Of course, I’m sure. I want to buy you dinner.” He flashed a brilliant smile. “Besides, I haven’t properly thanked you for cleaning this house, especially my bedroom.”
She shrugged and averted her eyes. “Well, you’re welcome.”
“I promise tomorrow, I’ll do my part. I’ll mow the grass and try to get the backyard into some respectable order.”
Even his attempts at being nice unnerved her. She didn’t trust Ben, but she was determined to stay cordial. He would reveal his true motive in time, and she would be ready. “Let me get changed and we can go.”
After a cool, refreshing shower, Josselyn’s head cleared, and she felt more able to spend a casual evening with Ben Parnell. Hopefully, the two of them could agree to some civil agreement regarding their predicament. Perhaps they could strike some type of tolerance for each other, too.
Dressed in jeans, a pink strappy top, and sandals, she tied her hair back into a ponytail and dabbed passion fruit lip gloss onto her lips.
Ben waited for her at the door. She wondered why such a handsome, well-built, successful man was still a bachelor. Maybe his cocky, self-assured attitude chased off women. Maybe he didn’t want a wife, or he was waiting until he was fifty, and would marry a woman half his age.
Whatever his reason, it wasn’t her business anyway, and she certainly didn’t need to feel drawn to the man. Of course, Ben was the son of a man she cared deeply for. Perhaps it was natural to feel a teeny-tiny bit of something good for him.
The sun set by the time they arrived at the Lovin’ Oven, a pizzeria that did most of its trade in take-out and delivery. The restaurant section had low lighting and several tables with mismatched chairs and chunky candles. The most startling feature of the place was the customer-carved graffiti on all of the furniture and walls.
“The management gave up about twenty years ago trying to stop people from carving up the furniture. It’s a part of the charm,” Ben explained after they were shown to a table.
“I think it’s kind of quaint. I think the whole town is quaint.”
“Do you want to immortalize yourself?”
“Excuse me?” she asked with a frown.
Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he extracted a pen knife. Opening it, he carefully handed it across the table.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“My name is carved all over these walls and tables; it makes me a part of the place. You want to be a part of this town, don’t you?”
Although she did want to become a part of Unity, she was unsure about this odd ritual. Maybe Ben was setting her up for the embarrassment of a life time. What if the owners of the Lovin’ Oven didn’t take kindly to her act of vandalism?
All around her were the names of the patrons who had dined before her for the past twenty years. What could one more name hurt? At that very moment, a teenage girl wearing black shorts over hot pink tights finished carving ‘Jamie loves Justin’ into a wall near the ladies room, while her beaming boyfriend looked on.
“Okay,” she conceded, and carefully carved ‘Joss’ into one of the few empty areas on the table not already scrawled upon. Afterward, she smiled at her work.
“Admit it, Josselyn; that felt good, didn’t it?”
Raising her head, she gazed into his blue eyes. “Yes, it did.” She shook her head and chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“It tickles me how much you look like your dad.”
His jaw dropped, but before he could reply, a waitress appeared with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
Ben poured the wine. “Here’s to a peaceful and speedy resolution to our problem,” he pledged and raised his glass.
She really hoped it could all end peacefully, but she couldn’t see how that could possibly happen. Still, she raised her glass to his. “Here’s to peace between us as well.”
“Now, I would have a proposition for you.”
In the time it took him to finish speaking, she was suspicious again.
“Don’t frown, Joss, it’s nothing terrible.” He lifted her chin and forced her to look into his eyes.
Her first instinct was to jerk away from his touch, but she caught herself and remained still. No malice radiated from his blue eyes, only a gentle contemplativeness.
“What I’m proposing, is in exchange for the house, I will pay your rent for one year. If you prefer to buy, I’ll give you the down payment. It’s a good deal. The house is going to cost a fortune in repairs to make it livable again. Can you really afford it on a nurse’s salary?”
Since they forged some sort of tenuous peace between them, she hoped it remained intact, but Ben didn’t understand. She only wanted the house she was promised, and he didn’t know Morgan had left her insurance money as well. If it wasn’t the grandest house in Unity, that didn’t matter to her. The house was rightfully hers, and the key to her future happiness.
“Thank you, Ben. Your offer is very generous, but I want to keep the house. Morgan promised it to me. I’m prepared to see it through the court system and let a judge decide the rightful owner.”
She expected a swift, negative response from him. Instead, he only sighed with resignation. “Well, my offer will remain open if you change your mind. I think if you really consider long and hard about It without stubbornness or emotions clouding your judgment, you’ll realize what I’m proposing is the best solution for both of us. If not, I’m prepared to wait as well.
***
Josselyn awoke in the morning to the sound of a lawn mower. Opening the window, the smell of freshly cut grass greeted her. Below, Ben push
ed a lawnmower. He looked sorely out of place doing manual labor. The handsome blond doctor belonged at a country club, wearing a hand tailored suit and sipping a vodka martini.
As she watched him, a bit of guilt nudged her. Ben grew up here. Obviously this was where he wanted to be. Maybe it wasn’t right to deprive him of his childhood home.
The thought he fabricated a will was almost inconceivable. As a doctor, a hematologist, nonetheless, he could afford to buy a home anywhere he wanted. Yet he chose to return to Unity. Why would he want to come back after so many years away? Didn’t he have a medical practice in the city that eventually needed his attention?
Maybe he planned to use the house on weekends and holidays. Although she was curious, it wasn’t a subject she wanted to approach anytime soon. They were finally on speaking terms; she didn’t want to ask him anything too personal.
In the kitchen, she poured her first cup of coffee when Ben walked in the back door.
He wiped his forehead. “Wow, it’s hot outside.”
“Do you want iced tea?”
“Sure, thanks.” He sat at the kitchen table.
Placing the glass on the table in front of him, she poured the iced tea, trying not to notice how his sweat soaked tee shirt was plastered to his broad chest. His hand closed around her wrist. His sudden touch caused her to tense, but she reminded herself he was Morgan’s son and he wouldn’t physically hurt her.
“Sit down for a few minutes and talk to me.”
She slid into the chair beside him. Wary again, she asked, “What do you want to talk about?”
“First of all, you don’t have to be afraid of me, or always be so guarded, Joss.” His blue gaze connected to hers and held her captive.
Was she that transparent? “Afraid? I’m not afraid,” she insisted and averted her gaze from his. She hoped her little lie sounded convincing. In truth, she was a bit afraid of all men. As for being guarded, the situation called for staying on her toes.
“Anyway, since we don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck with each other, we need to decide how we’re going to handle all the necessary repairs to this house.”
“Necessary?” She lifted the coffee cup to her lips.
“Like replacing the front door so it opens inward, not out, and the steps are downright dangerous.”
“I agree. What do you suggest?”
“I figure I’ll pay for the repairs. If you end up with the house, you can just reimburse me,” he said easily.
Josselyn could clearly hear the self-assurance in his voice. He didn’t doubt for a moment the courts would award him the house. His arrogance only made her more determined to do whatever she could to keep it. She couldn’t believe a short time earlier she actually felt a little guilty. “Okay, but consult me before you spend any money.”
He sat back in the chair and clasped his hands behind his neck. “There are a lot of changes I’d like to make around this place.”
She pretended not to see how his chest expanded beneath his tight t-shirt. “What kind of changes?”
“The first thing I would love to do is have air conditioning installed.”
Best to stop him right there. She would not allow his expensive tastes to put her in the poor house. “I don’t know about that,” she shrugged. “Air conditioning is an awfully expensive luxury I’m not sure I can afford. I think we need to concentrate on making the inside a comfortable place to live. To start with, the house needs all new carpet, paint, and wallpaper.”
“Come on, Joss, you’re a Miami girl. You must miss air conditioning. It’s only going to get a lot hotter around here.” He smiled and dared to rub the top of her hand.
Defiantly getting hotter by the moment, she thought, and grabbed at the neckline of her t-shirt where sweat began to gather. “If you want air conditioning, you have to pay for it on your own,” she insisted. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
***
Josselyn grabbed a bucket of soapy water and headed into the spare bedroom. Once upon a time, the room must have belonged to a little princess. The wallpaper was pink with a scatter of adorable appliquéd white teddy bears. It saddened her it could not be saved. Time faded the wallpaper, and children tore away the edges, and scribbled on it with crayons. Beneath her feet, the once pink carpet was thread-bare, and stained beyond repair.
Ben stood in the doorway with sadness cast over his features.
“This was her room, you know,” he stated ominously.
“No, I don’t know,” she said awkwardly.
“Meaghan,” he answered.
Meaghan. As Morgan lay dying, he smiled and told her he was going to see Meaghan. She had always been curious about who that was. Maybe now she could get a few answers. “Who’s Meaghan?”
“He never told you?”
“I know of her. Morgan didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t push him.”
Ben raked a hand through his blond hair and exploded. “Morgan was madly in love with you, but he didn’t even tell you about a member of his own family!”
Anger ignited inside her. Ben might be upset, but he had no right to make accusations about her relationship with Morgan. “I resent your comments about the relationship I shared with your father,” she remarked sharply.
“Just admit it, Josselyn! I’ll respect you so much more if you just tell the truth—you and my father were lovers!”
“I don’t need your respect, and you most certainly don’t deserve mine. You’re a spoiled, selfish bully!”
“Don’t judge me; you don’t even know me!” he bellowed.
If living with her father and brother taught her anything, it was how to deal with bullies. They fed off the fear and weakness of their victims. To beat them, you remained calm and in control. Her voice dropped back to a normal level.
“I know enough about you. More than I ever want to know,” she retorted.
His eyes resembled blue fire. “You show up at my house, all big brown eyes and innocent looking on the outside. Inside you’re nothing but a conniving, gold-digging grifter! You conned a sick old man out of a house, and who knows what else.”
Grifter. How she hated that word and what it implied. Growing up, she heard the word used to describe her father. Saying nothing in retaliation over the charge took every ounce of her willpower. Her silence seemed to infuriate him more.
“Maybe my dad really didn’t love you. You were probably nothing more than a paid convenience to him,” he taunted. “Meaghan might not have been worth mentioning, but she meant the world to me!”
Though she was furious for the way he was going at her, he was hurting. Most likely, in denial about grief for his father, and memories of Meaghan were resurrected by Morgan’s death.
Well, she was grieving, too. Pummeling him with insults would be so easy, but retaliation would only escalate the already volatile situation.
“I’m sorry, Ben. I don’t know anything about Meaghan.”
“I don’t need your pity. What I need is my house. What I want is my house.”
“I can’t give you that. This house is mine. I want to raise my family here.”
“You know, you’re really good. All innocuous and naïve. You deserve an Academy Award for your performance.” He clapped his hands together in morbid applause that echoed hollowly off the walls. “You can drop the act, Josselyn. There’s no one here but you and me.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “You can hurl your insults and accusations all you want. The fact remains I won’t give you this house, and I have no idea who Meaghan is—or was.”
“You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” He was incredulous. “Meaghan died in my arms, right in this bedroom. She was just a baby.”
A child had died in this house. She took two wobbling steps backward. Whose child was she, and why hadn’t Morgan told her any of this?
***
Ben rummaged through his medical bag until he found the antacid. Unscrewing the cap, h
e drank it straight from the bottle. The last few months, antacid became an all too regular part of his life. He leaned forward against the dresser and held his eyes closed until the searing pain in his belly passed.
What had just happened?
True, they weren’t cohabitating under the best of circumstances, but Josselyn hadn’t deserved the wrath he unleashed on her. She was too easy a target to aim his frustration. If he didn’t gain control over his temper, she might opt to file for a restraining order. She would have a legal way to put him out, and he might never get the house.
He found it difficult to believe she knew nothing about Meaghan. Maybe Morgan tried to protect her from the truth, but living in the house where she died, in this town, inevitably she would find out.
And she called him a bully—a selfish, spoiled bully—to be precise.
To keep the peace, he would apologize. As he walked down the hallway towards her bedroom, he spotted her in the bathroom sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Such a distinct look of sadness in her face and posture caused a wave of guilt to wash over him.
“I’m not a bully,” he stated.
So much for an apology.
“Were you telling the truth?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. I’m surprised you didn’t know. Listen, Josselyn, I’m sorry. I said some rotten things you didn’t deserve.”
“Yes, you did. You know, I’ve tried everything in my power to be cordial to you. It’s not my fault we’re in this situation. I understand you’re grieving, but so am I.”
Grieving? He already grieved for Meaghan, but death wasn’t something you got over. You got used to the idea of the loved one, the parent, the friend, being gone. As for his father, he wasn’t really sure what he felt.
“Maybe it’s best to communicate through our attorneys,” she suggested, casting her gaze to the floor.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you serious? We will both go broke if we only speak through two-hundred-dollar-an-hour lawyers. I don’t have that kind of money to waste. Do you?”