Heron's Landing: The Complete Series

by Iris Morland

  “When you’re finished,” he said, looking at all of them, “I want you to pair up into groups of threes to prepare your own lamb. I’d let you each cook your own, but we can’t really afford it right now.” He smiled wryly. “Be sure you don’t mess up, otherwise Adam will have my neck for wasting food.”

  Watching his staff get to work, first scoring the fat on the lamb before searing it in hot olive oil, Jaime could only hope against hope that he wouldn’t have to leave this place. That the investigation would lead away from him and he could move on with his life. When he’d first arrived at River’s Bend five years ago, he had never expected it would burrow into his heart like it had. But it had become home, and the people here had become like family. The Danvers in particular—Adam, his parents. Grace.

  Jaime swallowed. He never would have thought Grace Danvers would’ve taken hold of him like she had. When he’d first met her, she’d been a shy kid, fresh out of high school. She’d barely said two words to him before she’d left for college. Now everything had changed.

  Realizing he needed to tell Kerry to order some supplies, he left the kitchen to stop by her desk. “I know we aren’t swimming in cash at the moment,” he said, “but I also can’t run a kitchen without basic things like olive oil and aluminum foil.”

  She nodded, making a note on a Post-it. “You got it. I’ll get approval from Adam and get it ordered. Although it might have to be the cheaper olive oil, sorry to say.”

  “Whatever you have to do.”

  Right then, Adam stepped out, and when he saw Jaime, he didn’t greet him. His brows came together, and if Jaime weren’t in a good mood, he’d think his friend wasn’t happy to see him.

  Adam stepped up to Kerry, telling her he was going to be in on a conference call within the next hour. Then he nodded at Jaime, saying his name in a low voice before going back to his office.

  Jaime stared after him. Adam had never been the talkative type, to be sure, but he’d never given him the cold shoulder quite this blatantly. A frisson of fear crawled up his spine. Was there something new about the investigation? Did Adam think he stole from River’s Bend now?

  He looked to see Kerry frowning. “That was weird,” she said.

  “Maybe he and Joy had a fight.”

  She shook her head, tapping her pen against the desk. “I just saw Joy this morning, and she was happy as usual.” She smiled a little sheepishly. “And I may have accidentally seen Adam kissing her before she left.”

  So it was just Jaime that Adam wasn’t too fond of. He clenched his jaw and walked toward his boss’s office, refusing to have another person at the vineyard treating him like some kind of leper.

  He pushed open Adam’s office door and saw his boss reading over some document, his brow furrowed in concentration. When he saw Jaime standing in front of him, that brow furrow didn’t disappear. Instead, it only deepened.

  Jaime shut the door. “Okay, what is it this time? Have you discovered that I murdered an old lady or something?”

  Adam blinked. He set down the paper in his hand and then rubbed his forehead. “Jaime, I have a conference call in the next few minutes—”

  “It can wait. Tell me why you’re giving me the cold shoulder and I’ll leave you alone.” His initial good mood evaporated much like steam. So much for having a good day, he thought bitterly.

  When Adam didn’t automatically disclaim giving him the cold shoulder, Jaime started pacing the small confines of the office. Adam watched him and then, after some moments, said irritably, “Stop doing that. You’re making me antsy.”

  “Then spit it out!”

  Jaime heard him mumble something about “I don’t have time for this,” before he looked up and said point blank, “I know about Grace going to your place.”

  Jaime froze. He’d expected a lot of things to come out of Adam’s mouth, but this one hadn’t been one of them. He wasn’t sure why. Adam had warned him away from Grace before, and Heron’s Landing was a tiny town. Nothing was ever kept secret for very long.

  Jaime crossed his arms. “And you have a problem with that…?”

  Adam scowled. “Didn’t I ask you to leave her alone? What was she doing at your house in the middle of the night?” His scowl turned deeper. “You know what, on second thought, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

  “Nothing happened.” Only sort of a lie, at any rate.

  “Jaime, you’re my friend. You’re a good man. But I know you. You aren’t going to stick around; you’re going to break Grace’s heart. I can see it from a mile away.”

  Now it was Jaime’s turn to scowl. “Since when do you know what I’m going to be doing? You’re so convinced that I’m some amoral dickwad that I’d screw your sister and then leave her a week later?”

  “Jesus Christ, please let’s not talk about screwing my sister.”

  “No, let’s. Because this is what this is about, isn’t it?” Anger filled every vein, until Jaime barely recognized what he was saying or thinking. All he saw was a haze of red. “You’ve decided that I’m not good enough for your sister, so you’re making it seem like you’re protecting her. When, by the way, she’s an adult who can make her own decisions. She doesn’t need you to swoop in like some knight in shining armor.”

  Adam stared at him, his eyes wide. Then he got up, pressing his palms to his desk. “So you’re saying you’re not going to leave her alone?”

  “Only if she asks me to. Only if she wants to end things. But I have a bit of news for you, buddy.” Jaime leaned toward him. “It’s none of your business. It never has been, and never will be.”

  “It is my business because she’s my sister.” Adam’s voice was low, harsh, and if they weren’t at work, Jaime had a feeling this could come to blows. He rather wished it would. It would probably make them both feel better.

  “Yes, she’s your sister, who’s an adult. She doesn’t need you making her decisions behind her back.” Standing back, Jaime said in Spanish, “If your sister wants me to screw her, that’s her business, dumbass.”

  “Speak English, dammit!” Adam slapped his hands on the desk.

  The two of them breathed hard, staring each other down, wondering who would give in first. Jaime refused to give in. He refused to apologize because he’d done nothing wrong. Yes, he’d told him—and Grace—their relationship wasn’t necessarily the wisest idea, but that didn’t make it right for someone else to forbid it from happening, either.

  “Go to hell,” Jaime said in Spanish before stalking out of Adam’s office, shutting the door probably more loudly than necessary.

  The rest of the day devolved from there. Two of the groups either burned or grossly overcooked their racks of lamb, rendering them inedible. The only bright spot was that Jaime had scheduled to leave early since it was a standard night and leave Eric in charge. He normally hated leaving Eric in charge of the rest of the staff, but by five o’clock, he didn’t care. He couldn’t stay one more second at River’s Bend and have Adam breathing down his neck, just waiting for him to do something else to reprimand him for.

  Driving home, Jaime was looking forward to an evening of booze and maybe watching a game or two, but when he got within eyeshot of his house, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Two police cars waited outside for him. Parking, he got out of his truck and, seeing four officers waiting at his door, he raised his hands in surrender.

  This is it, he thought. They’re going to arrest me for a crime I didn’t commit. I should’ve known this would happen.

  But instead of the officers coming toward him with handcuffs, only one came forward. It was Sheriff Jennings. He handed Jaime a document and said in an exultant voice, “We have authorization to search your residence, Mr. Martínez. Glad you arrived so soon. Wouldn’t want to wait around all night for you to come home.” He grinned, showing crooked teeth in his red and wrinkled face.

  Jaime stared at the official document in his hand, glancing at the various signatures scrawled at the bottom. He swall
owed.

  “I’ll let you in then,” he said in a quiet voice, gripping his keys in his fist.

  After that, he said nothing else. He said nothing as he wondered where he should sit as the officers scoured his house, going through every room, every cabinet, every drawer. He wondered if it would be strange if he turned on the TV while they worked. Would they hold that against him if he were later charged? Would they say he wasn’t taking things seriously if he turned on a game? So he turned on nothing, staring at the wall, listening to the officers talking and going through everything he owned.

  He didn’t know what they expected to find. Then again, for all Jaime knew, someone had planted evidence without his knowledge. A smoking gun, a bloody knife, anything. Nothing would surprise him at this point. The only question he wanted answered was who would do this to him in the first place.

  His second concern? His parents could never, ever find out that this happened.

  The search was over faster than Jaime had expected. He watched as the officers carried out various items, including his laptop. Sheriff Jennings gave him a list of things confiscated and said they would talk with him shortly after they had finished looking through everything. Jaime nodded, not getting up to see them out.

  He listened as they started their cars and finally drove off. They’d left the front door open, he realized. He went to shut it, using the bolt lock, and it was only then that the severity of what had happened collapsed upon him.

  Going through his house, he looked at where the officers had opened drawers, dumped open boxes, sifted through his clothes. A pile of shoes lay at the foot of his bed, while socks and underwear were scattered across the comforter. They’d even looked through his bathroom: toothpaste tubes and his toothbrush and razor and aftershave all dumped into the sink, some of it leaking down the drain. He tightened the cap on a few items.

  Sitting back down on the couch, he heard a vague buzzing in his ears. His house didn’t seem like his house anymore. He took out his phone—thanking God they hadn’t taken that, too—and texted Grace before he realized what he was even doing.

  Where are you?

  He waited. Then the reply: I’m at Joy’s. I couldn’t stay at home right now. Why?

  He didn’t really want to be around Joy right now, but where else could he go? He could get a room at the one inn in Heron’s Landing, but he didn’t want to alert the entire town that something was wrong. He couldn’t stay at Adam’s, either.

  Can I come by tonight? I can’t stay here at home.

  His phone rang, and picking it up, he heard Grace ask, “Jaime, what happened? Are you all right?”

  “I can’t explain right now. Would Joy mind if I came by?”

  Silence, before Grace said in a soft voice, “She’s not here. She’s with Adam. She said I could stay here tonight, though.”

  “I’ll be there in a bit.”

  Parking in front of Mike’s general store, he took the back stairs up to the apartments. He’d never been to Joy’s, but everyone pretty much knew where everyone else lived in a small town like this. He realized, though, that he didn’t know the apartment number. Staring down the hallway, he was about to call for Grace when a door at the end of the hall opened.

  Grace came out, her face drawn, wearing yoga pants and a fuzzy sweater.

  His heart clenched in his chest. He walked down the hallway and before either of them said a word, he took her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he hugged her so hard he knew he was probably making it hard for her to breathe. But she didn’t protest. She just said his name, over and over again, touching his back and his hair and his face.

  He walked her backward into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind them. His hands roved down her back and grabbed her ass, his mouth trailing kisses across her cheeks, her nose, down her pale throat. He’d never experienced anything this intense, this desperate. It was like they couldn’t stop touching each other. He never wanted to let her go.

  “Kiss me, Jaime. Kiss me,” she breathed, and he wondered why he’d been waiting to kiss her. Maybe because it meant making this real, realer than it had been up until this point. Maybe because once he kissed her he’d never, ever stop, and that thrilled him as much as it scared him.

  “God, Graciela.” He kissed her, and she tasted so sweet and so much like home that it was almost unbearable. She made little noises in the back of her throat as they kissed. He kissed her until he’d pushed her up against a wall, unzipping her jacket-sweater-thing and pulling it off of her, needing to feel her skin. She wore a t-shirt underneath, and he stroked her waist through the thin cotton.

  “Are we going to do this?” he asked, because he had to know. He had to make sure she wanted this, because he knew he’d reached his limit.

  Grace gazed at him, her eyes wide and shining. The moment slowed as she stroked his cheek, her fingers soft and light. She smelled like flowers and innocence. She seemed like she needed to see something in him, needed to ascertain some quality that he couldn’t begin to comprehend, and he let her. He waited. He’d wait eternity for her, he realized.

  “I love you,” she said, a slight flush brushing across her freckled cheeks. “I’ve loved you for years. Did you know that?”

  He had known. He hadn’t want to acknowledge that he’d known, and he’d initially dismissed it as a young girl’s crush. But gazing into her eyes, seeing the love shining on her face, all he could feel now was humility at someone like her loving someone like him. He didn’t deserve it. It almost sent him to his knees.

  He almost blurted something stupid—thank you or even worse, I know, like Han Solo—so instead, he pressed his forehead to hers, trying to catch his breath.

  When the words came, he hadn’t known they were even in his mind. But they rang truer than anything he’d said in a long time.

  “You shatter me, Graciela.”

  Her eyes widened. Then she took his hands and kissed his fingers, and God Almighty, that was it. That was the end. His self-control snapped. Burying his hands in her long blonde hair, he tilted her head upward and kissed her, hard and relentlessly, and he could only cry out in relief that she returned the kiss with as much enthusiasm.

  He walked her backward into the bedroom. A stray thought wandered into his mind, wondering if Joy would be at all happy that they were going to have sex on her bed, when Grace put his fears to rest, like she could read his mind.

  “Joy said it was okay that I had guests,” Grace said into his ear. He felt her smile then. “And then she sent me a text full of eggplant emojis and eyeballs. In case you were wondering.”

  At that, he tilted his head back and laughed. Then he fell onto the bed with Grace, kissing her until neither of them could catch their breaths.

  13

  Grace could hardly believe this was happening. Jaime, kissing her, on a bed, about to have sex with her. It was a dream. It was unbelievable. She could barely catch her breath. He wouldn’t stop kissing her, his hands all over her, making her hot and desperate, like her skin had become too tight.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked again, although as he said it, he was inching her shirt up over her head.

  “Is it cheesy to say I haven’t been surer of anything in my life?”

  He stilled, gripping the hem of her shirt, like he had to take in her words. He was breathing hard, and she wondered if he were having second thoughts. Was he freaked out by the fact that she was a virgin? Was he a virgin? She almost laughed. She knew he wasn’t. He’d had his share of girlfriends, which, at that thought, jealousy pricked her, sharp and unexpected. Other women had touched him, kissed him, felt him moving inside of them. Saw his smile, how his dark hair fell across his forehead.

  She took his hand, still gripping her t-shirt, and sat up. She pulled the shirt off over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the cool air of the room made her nipples pucker.

  Jaime groaned. “Jesus, Graciela.” He pulled her into his lap, kissing and licking at he
r mouth, his fingers playing with her breasts.

  She looked down. The contrast of his brown skin against her pale skin made her shudder. He flicked her nipples, strumming her like an instrument. She arched. He kissed her neck, his tongue hot and wet as it traced the line of her throat.

  But it wasn’t enough. She reached down to pull his shirt off, because she wanted him as bare as she was. He smiled a little and then his chest was bared to her. She pressed her breasts against him, and she moaned at the prickle of his chest hair against her aching nipples. It was like she was pure sensation, only alive right this moment to feel Jaime against her, over her, beneath her, their bodies entwining until neither knew where they began and ended.

  He tipped her over onto the bed. She bounced a little, giggling. Then she moaned again as he kissed down her belly. She couldn’t catch her breath. She’d never done any of this before with a man, and if she thought about it too much, she knew she’d get overwhelmed. But she told herself it was Jaime. It was Jaime, and she trusted him.

  “You’re so soft,” he rumbled, caressing her belly. “How are you so soft?”

  She laughed. “I don’t know, good genetics?”

  “Whatever it is, it’s driving me insane. I could touch you for hours.”

  She gasped in a breath when he touched her sides, and he looked up at her, remembering how ticklish she was.

  “Don’t you dare,” she warned, pressing a foot against his side.

  He danced his fingers on that ticklish patch of skin, and she burst out laughing. She curled in on herself, trying to get away, but he was relentless. Knowing she had to be quick, she hitched a leg over his hip and using her weight, flipped him onto his back so she straddled him. She took hold of his hands.

  “Now you’re my prisoner,” Grace said, cuffing his hands with her fingers. She knew he could get away if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

  He lay beneath her, gazing at her, and she could feel his hardness against her ass. It was an unfamiliar pressure, but one that sent sparks up her entire body. She wanted this. She wanted him.