“The name, Dad,”
“Harold Everly. His son took over after he died. Same name.”
“Thanks. Tell Mom I’ll call her…soon.” He pressed disconnect on his cell as the animosity drained from his body. Calling his mom would be a start. Maybe if he told her what had happened, she might get through to his father. Then again, maybe, his dad had mellowed like Gramps had done. He sure as hell hoped so. The time was long overdue to let go of the past and move ahead. To his future. The one he planned to make with Lee.
Lee. He had to make it right for her. He punched in the library’s number. “Rob Campion, please.”
Rob knew little. He suggested contacting Jim or Dusty or some of the other merchants and maintenance service folks who’d been teenagers in Serenity Harbor when Mindi visited.
When he finally reached Jim Thompson at the hardware store, he didn’t waste words. “You’ve been around this town for a while. Remember Harold Everly?
“Son or dad?”
“Both.”
“Odd ducks. Father passed away. Harold Jr. got run out of town for some bizarre reason no one seems to have the whole story for.”
Gray prayed odd duck Everly wouldn’t be the one who was Lee’s father. She deserved better than that.
"Why you looking for him?"
"Estate business—had questions."
It was a better part of a week, dead-end after dead-end, before Gray tracked down Harold, Jr. He’d seen nothing of Lee, not even a glimpse of her walking down the street. All he wanted was to stroll across the street, pull her into his arms, and tell he loved her. Determined to do right by Lee, then beg her forgiveness, he kept his head down and on task.
Finally, one call to Tallahassee, Florida panned out.
Harold Jr. remembered first and last names of attendees at the caretaker house parties like it was yesterday, rattling them off so fast Gray could barely keep up. As Harold rambled on and on about relationships between all the players, he scribbled notes. After forty-five minutes of trying to get him to focus on one important question—who hung out with Missy Aldred—he hit pay dirt.
He had a name.
* * *
Lauralee spent the week at Mindi’s cottage, cleaning it out to sell. She’d found a treasure trove in the attic—stacks of Mindi’s paintings, and a few more of her own.
A week ago, she’d relied on Gray and Luke to help. Now she struggled to carry paintings back to the gallery. The new apartment, still not ready for occupancy—and she suspected without an occupant in the wings—put a strain on her finances. Once the house was sold, she could keep up on bills for the Alzheimer’s unit.
Lose the thoughts. Back to work.
She stacked the last of the largest paintings by Mindi’s front door, and lugged to the car one more box of linens and curtains destined for Goodwill.
As she settled in the front seat, her arms went limp beside her. Drained, she bent her head to the steering wheel as she fought control of her tears. Mindi and living in this cottage had been her salvation at age fifteen. She hated to give up her last hold on family.
Straightening, she swiped her eyes. Fingering the locket with her mama’s photo that Auntie had given her on her sixteenth birthday, she cast the cottage one last glance and backed out of the drive. After dropping the boxes off at the donation site, Lauralee picked up a to-go salad from the Thai restaurant around the corner. As she parked in front of the gallery, she glanced across the street.
The longing to sidle up to the bar at twilight, before the crowds descended, and chat with Gray while he experimented on drinks shot a visceral ache of want through her. She missed him. An understatement at best.
Resigned to being a neighbor in close proximity without the benefits of friendship, she grabbed her supper, trudged through the gallery and up the shadowed staircase. She’d reached the last few steps before realizing what was in front of her. As if she’d conjured Gray up with her longings.
Perched on the top step, elbows on knees, Gray’s deep navy, sad eyes bore a hole deep in her gut. Next to him sat a silver cocktail shaker beaded with condensation.
"Why’d’ ya bring the shaker?"
“An experiment. I need you, ah—to—ah, try this." Her heart slammed against her chest. I need you. Never mind it was to test a cocktail. Never mind all the testing of cocktails had been his excuse to keep her at the bar and feed her—take care of her. The shaker represented the trajectory of their entire relationship. She knew it. He knew it. She wanted to forget all the reasons she'd told herself why she shouldn't trust him. How he'd lied to her. And instead step up to him and fling her arms around him.
She took the last few steps, as he stood. He said nothing more as he moved aside to let her open her door. She said nothing as he followed her inside, and set the shaker on the counter. A peace offering? A buffer?
Lauralee set her salad beside the shaker, placed her purse on the side table, slipped out of her jacket and hung it on a peg by the door. Then she turned. Slowly. Held back her tears. Looked him in the eye. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve found him. Your father.”
His arm snaked around her waist, as she turned white. He hauled her flush, her body pressed against his hard, warm comfort. Before she could blink, Gray scooped her into his arms and walked her the tens paces to the bed serving as a couch.
He sat with her in his lap.
Brushed back the lock of auburn hair tumbling into her eyes, and ran his thumb down her cheek, along her jaw line, until shivers ran a course through her body.
“He lives here in town.”
“Do I know him?”
He nodded.
“Will I like him?”
He nodded. “Jim’s helped you out many a time with the apartment.”
A jittery sigh rose up, giving way to full-fledged tears.
“Come here, babe,” He palmed the back of her head and snuggled her in against his chest. “We’ll work this out. Find a way to introduce you.”
She swiped at her eyes.
He leaned in to kiss her. All she wanted to do was bury herself in his kiss, his hold, his scent. Instead she shoved at his chest and stood. Before she could let him in again they had issues to resolve. Right now she was too wrung out to deal.
Striding across the room, she pulled open the door to usher him out. “Thanks Gray. I appreciate what you’ve done.”
Chapter 15
Two days later, holding her hand tight, Gray tugged Lee toward his front door. They’d agreed it was best to unite her with her father on neutral ground.
“This will change his life.”
“For the better, babe.”
Was she worthy enough to declare herself his daughter? Before she could step back and change her mind, Gray pulled the door wide. “Come in.”
Jim Thompson, red hair and freckles, stood silhouetted in the entrance. Why had she never noticed the resemblance?
“Gray. Lauralee.” Jim nodded their way before he followed them into the living room facing a frothy sea on this cold, early November day.
As planned to give them time alone, Gray asked Jim if he wanted coffee. Her heart somersaulted and landed in her belly. Did she have the guts to tell Jim while Gray was in the kitchen? Lauralee grabbed Gray’s wrist. “Not yet. Let’s sit.” When Gray raised a brow, she tugged him toward the couch.
“Coffee can wait. Lauralee has something to discuss….”
“About Mindi’s house? You know I’ll help with supplies for renovations to make it more marketable. Mindi’s a friend—the closest thing to family, really.”
Family. A shiver zipped up Lauralee’s spine. “I—ah, ah.”
“Not about business. Personal.” Gray filled in for Lauralee’s inability to speak.
Jim leaned forward, his hands twisted together as they dangled between his knees and he looked from Lee to Gray and back again.
“About my mama—”
“I always wondered.” Tears glistened. “You’re my daugh
ter.”
Lauralee shoved off the couch to move toward the center of the room. “I am.”
Jim stood and took one step before stopping on a dime. With his hands shoved in his pockets, a grin worked its way from his mouth to his eyes, a shade darker than hers. “I had hoped. After I heard Missy died, I searched for her obituary. Came up empty—before the internet.” He shrugged. “When Mindi moved to town and I heard she had a niece, I knew. I—I tried to ask….”
“All these years, you knew?”
He nodded. “Deep down. I thought...maybe Mindi doesn’t want me to be the father. Maybe…I’m not good enough.”
Lauralee launched herself at Jim, wrapping her arms around his waist. When he didn’t react, she disengaged, but his big hands gripped her elbows. A tear slid down his cheek, then another and another. They cried together.
“I’m glad you’re my father. I know I couldn’t ask for better.”
“You have the same spirit as Mindi, and your mother. I loved her. I would have married her if she’d come back to Serenity Harbor.”
“I don’t think her father gave her a chance. The whole thing—me—was an embarrassment he couldn’t see past. Tell me…this whole time Mindi has referred to you as Tommy.”
“My nickname. Thompson. Tommy. We all had nicknames.”
She and Jim talked for an hour. Gray gave them time together as he made coffee. When Jim indicated he had to get back to his store, he lingered at the door. “Think we could have dinner sometime?”
“I’d love that.”
Gray squeezed Jim’s shoulder. “I’ll save the best table in the house for you two.”
After Jim left, Lee turned to Gray. “Thank you. I owe you forever.” Her heart lurched. He’d come back to help her finish her business. Now it really was over between them. He’d revived some of her trust, but given no explanation for his omissions.
She’d found her father. Mindi’s gallery was in good shape and plans to keep it solvent implemented. All thanks to Gray. The rest…well she’d tuck away the memories and get over him. Someday. She stepped back. “I have a lot to think about.” She turned and strode toward the door, trying to hold tears at bay.
“Lee.”
The nickname scored her heart.
“Babe. Don’t go. I—I—can’t let you go like this.” He stood behind her. His breath tickled her neck. His scent wafted over her. Heat rolled off him to warm her back. “Lee. Look at me.”
She turned, the movement like wading through chest-high water. The broody Gray, the one she’d first met when she’d decided to try out the Starlight Grille for dinner, stood in front of her.
“I owe you. An explanation. And for bringing light to my life for the first time in…forever.”
The last statement took hold in her gut. She wanted to believe. Instead, she ignored the patter of her heart and chose to concentrate on the lump in her throat—the one trying to squelch her hopes. “You had your reasons. I know how private you are—”
Two fingers pressed against her lips. “I need to explain. I want you to trust me again. And maybe someday—”
“I—I do trust you Gray. You proved you’re a friend. I don’t need to know more.” Her gut twisted as she embellished her lie. She couldn’t stand this close to Gray and not want to leap into his arms. Plaster her mouth against his. Breathe him in. Drag him to his bedroom and make love to every inch of his body. And then…snuggle deep into his arms and stay there until the sun rose above the horizon…day after day.
Instead she stepped back. “I have to go.”
“I won’t let you. I love you. I screwed up. I need you to hear me out, give me a chance.”
“Gray….”
“I’m begging. I’ll keep on begging until you hear me out.”
She tried to ignore the zing. He’d said love. She wanted to believe.
His fingers swept her hair back. His palm settled on her shoulder. The other cupped her chin. “Please.” She looked deep into his eyes and knew he meant the love part. But the trust?
“We can’t live a life of half-truths.”
“I know. Come. Sit.” He drew her toward the love seat edging the fireplace, as the flames gently licked the logs, adding warmth to the corner of the room.
She sat, edging against the armrest. She couldn’t think rationally with him too close. “Why did it take you so long?”
He looked at the floor and drew in a deep breath. “I’ve been estranged from my family ever since…” When he looked up, lines etched his forehead, his mouth drew taught. “I didn’t think I’d ever talk to my father again. In the end, I did it for you.
She sucked in her breath. I did it for you. “You’re talking in circles.”
“Expectations. All my life my father and grandfather groomed me to follow in their footsteps, in the family law firm.”
“But you were a lawyer.”
“I rebelled against the family firm."
“Not good, I imagine."
Gray nodded. "I never wished to be an attorney. In my father's eyes, defense law was the lesser evil to business school."
"Now you're successful in business."
His smile reached his eyes, and as quick as a lightening-strike slipped away. "I wouldn’t have moved here....My last case—I did my job too well.”
“How?”
“My client deserved to swing. After he went free, the firm…I…realized the extent of his heinous crimes.”
Gray's glance shifted over her shoulder. She imagined his heart tumbled like the raw and churning waves splashing against the rocky shore. Lauralee gripped his wrist. "Tell me."
He shook his head, his gaze still glued to the seascape. "A gruesome story. You'd have nightmares.”
Lauralee stood and walked to the bank of windows, the flutter of first snow now drifting across the deck, a contrast to the turmoil inside her. “No half-truths, Gray.” She heard the hitch of his breath behind her, as his hands anchored her shoulders. The grim set of his lips reflected in the glass, signaling do not turn around.
“The judge read the verdict. I glanced at my client. The look in his eyes told the story I failed to see. Satisfaction he gotten away with killing all those— little boys. And he’d do it again.
The judge no sooner left the courtroom when the prosecutor shrugged and packed up his papers—like oh well, you lose some….”
“Little boys?” She did turn, her arms wrapped around her belly trying to shield herself against the punch. “You must’ve—god, no one protected them.”
His eyes narrowed, as the anger, no hurt, flashed across his features. “I’m not the one who hurt them. Or you.” When he turned and strode across the room, it all made sense why he’d never told her. To protect her. From past hurts—the ones she carried with her every day.
“Gray. Stop. I know you didn’t hurt me…or anyone. I’m sorry. You’re right.”
He swung around.
“For not telling me.”
His laugh of self-deprecation hit her straight on. “Right. So you wouldn’t know I helped an abuser when there was no one there to help you.”
She nodded, knowing agreement wasn’t what he wanted from her. She lay her palm against his forearm, but he jerked away. “I know you didn’t commit the crime. Give me a minute to understand all this.”
He walked to the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee and doused each with a shot of Kahlua. She neared the other side of the counter as he shoved a cup toward her.
“Everyone was taken in by him, Gray. You did your job with the information you had. Don’t put yourself in the same league as an abuser.” She set the cup aside. “You hear me. You can’t blame yourself.”
“Can’t I? Then why do I?”
“Abusers are manipulators who prey on people…it’s how they get away with their crimes.”
“Yeah, and despite my competence as a lawyer, the world lucked out. Someone gunned him down a few weeks after he went free. He can’t hurt anyone now."
“No
he can’t. And the people who hurt me as a child no longer have power over me. You helped me understand.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth. “Even if I didn’t want to admit it.” She walked around the counter and hugged her arms around his waist. “We’ll both be all right.”
He lifted her chin and touched his lips to hers. Sweet. Gentle. One touch before he pulled away.
“This is why you didn’t call your father?”
“I failed my family. In every decision I’ve made since college.”
“You can’t believe you failed.”
“He doesn’t let me forget all the times I screwed up.”
“Do you think you screwed up? Really?”
"I wanted to go to business school. And yet I let an unforgiving man rule my decisions. We haven't spoken…until last week."
“You did it for me.”
He nodded.
“Thank you. I can never repay…. You found my father. I now have a family. And I know Jim will live up to all I hoped for in a father. He’s a gentle, down-to-earth, hardworking man who loved my mother. What more could I ask for?” Her stomach churned and her heart ached. Gray had done his job in taking care of her, like he did with everyone else in town. Before she made a fool of herself and confessed how much she loved him, and tell him his love was the only other thing she could ask for… She couldn’t tell him, not if she wanted his friendship. She swallowed a sob. “I—I need to leave.”
“Lee, Babe. Stop. I love you.”
"You and me—we'd never work.”
He beat her to the front door and stood, his solid body pressed against the wood. "Not until I tell you I want you in my life forever."
“You helped me as a friend. I’m grateful. But us— No. It can’t happen."
“Hear me out.”
She sighed and sucked in a breath to keep the tears at bay. "You don’t really want me. Those city women at the auction—they're your people. Not mine. You’d soon tire of what we have."
"They're not who I want. Never have been." Gray stepped toward her, and reached into his pocket to pull out a mauve box. Balanced on his palm, he presented it to her. "I've carried this around for two weeks. Open the box."
Welcome to Serenity Harbor Page 37