Kiss Me in the Rain (Destined for Love: Mansions)

by Lindzee Armstrong

  Layla laughed, feeling hysteria bubble up. “You asked me to go on a few dates with the guy. I never would’ve agreed to an engagement.”

  Daddy rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Charlie insisted, and I’ve got no other cards to play.”

  “Well, isn’t that fine and dandy?” Layla said. “Does he seriously think an engagement is going to make Grant’s ex-wife disappear?”

  “He’s confident enough in the plan to invest in Cypress Grove. That’s the only reason I’m doing this, honey. It’s all about saving the plantation.”

  Layla folded her arms, not liking the way the fury around her heart cooled at the words. “I can’t marry someone I don’t know.”

  “It’s not going to come to that,” Daddy said. “After a year or two, you should be able to call off the wedding without any major issues.”

  “A year or two?” Her voice rose. “You’ve lost your ever-loving mind! You said six months of dating him. Not a two-year engagement.”

  He held up his hands in a soothing gesture. “Calm down, Layla Jean.”

  She ran a hand through her hair and laughed. “Right. Calm down.”

  “I’ve gone over it again and again,” Daddy said. “This is the only way we can survive.”

  Was Cypress Grove more important to her parents than Layla’s happiness? Yesterday, she would’ve laughed and said no way. But as she watched her parents silently communicate, she was no longer so sure.

  She rose, not meeting their eyes. “I need to think.”

  Daddy reached for her arm. “Layla—”

  She shrugged off his hand. “I’m exhausted. This whole thing has been a pretty big shock. We’ll talk at breakfast.”

  “Don’t forget that it’s our family legacy at stake,” Daddy said. “Without Charlie’s help, we’ll lose everything—our home, the tobacco business, the mansion.”

  Layla felt as though she’d aged ten years in the space of one evening. How could her father put this all on her shoulders?

  “I’ll talk to you in the morning,” Layla repeated.

  “You owe her that much, Drew,” Mom said. She kissed Layla on the cheek. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  Layla nodded and escaped the study. She raced up the stairs to the third floor library—one of her favorite places in the mansion—with its towering bookcases and dark wood furniture. She curled up in the window seat where she’d spent so many hours reading in her youth. A few cars still filled the employee parking lot. A tall, lanky man unlocked his car, the moonlight glinting off his light-colored hair.

  Tyler looked up as though sensing her gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart rate doubled.

  Tyler lifted a hand in a small wave. She raised her own in return then sank into the shadows as he drove away.

  What a mess.

  Engaged. Tyler lost count of the wine bottles—all Araujo cabernet sauvignon—and had to start over again.

  He’d always known Layla was out of his league. He just hadn’t realized she was also unavailable.

  Chair legs clanged against each other as employees stacked them along one wall, and tablecloths swished through the air, sending crumbs flying toward the ground. Tyler noted the wine bottle total on an inventory checklist then moved on to the champagne.

  Had she been playing him the whole time they were in Europe? All those late-night conversations, and never once had she mentioned a boyfriend. The funny thing was, they had briefly touched on old relationships, but she’d failed to mention her current flame.

  Grant. Just the name ignited some primal instinct in Tyler. He’d constantly been placing a hand at Layla’s back, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Bile rose in Tyler’s throat, and he fought the urge to throw up, like the drunk he’d cut off an hour before the party ended.

  He straightened from his crouched position, making another note on the inventory sheet. Tonight felt all wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  Cosette rushed into the ballroom, the bags under her eyes noticeably bigger than they’d been at the start of the party. “You good here?” she asked, breathing hard as she leaned against the bar.

  “Yep.” Tyler tapped the closing checklist. “I’m almost done then I’ll be heading out.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  He motioned to the row of stemware he’d cleaned. “Need a drink?”

  She gazed longingly at the glasses, but shook her head. “Not until I get home. Thanks, Tyler. You were great tonight.”

  Cosette pushed off the bar and intercepted an employee pushing a laundry cart piled high with tablecloths. Tyler shook his head and grabbed a clean rag. He’d give the countertop one last scrub down, head home to his empty apartment, and try to forget tonight had ever happened.

  Layla strode into the ballroom, Grant at her side. Tyler dropped to the floor without thinking, a curse on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t face her after practically confessing his love.

  The gentle murmur of her voice floated above the laughter of an employee, each musical note a stab to the heart. Grant’s low rumble accompanied her words, and then died off.

  Tyler peered over the edge of the bar, scanning the room for signs of Grant or Layla, but they’d both disappeared. He straightened with a sigh. A young girl holding a vase of flowers raised an eyebrow at him, shook her head, and walked away.

  Tyler’s cheeks burned. He quickly finished cleaning up the bar and headed to the employee parking lot. Soft light filtered from the mansion’s windows, casting shadows over the gravel. The sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, and only a few cars were left in the lot.

  His scalp tingled, and he turned around to glance back at the mansion. A woman stood in an upper window, her slender silhouette back-lit by the artificial light. Layla?

  A hand rose in a wave. Tyler waved back, then got in his car and drove away.

  He’d moved here for her. Of all the stupid, idiotic things he could’ve done with his misguided feelings, this had to top the list. His parents were right—moving to South Carolina was a big mistake.

  Tyler’s hands clutched the steering wheel as he pushed away the doubt crowding his mind. He could still find a house to flip and prove them wrong, on that account at least.

  His cell phone rang, rattling in the cup holder and making him jump. Tyler fumbled for the phone. Who would be calling him at this hour? It was nearly two o’clock in the morning.

  An unknown number. He was tempted to reject the call, but it was unlikely to be a telemarketer this late at night. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” said a familiar deep voice.

  Tyler pulled back the phone and stared again at the number. “Nick?”

  A deep chuckle filled the line. “Yeah, it’s me. I was worried I’d wake you up.”

  “No, I just got off work. How’ve you been?” Nick had been one of the chaperones Tyler worked with over the summer. He’d only stuck around for the first tour. Turned out Nick was actually a secret government agent. After a shootout in Amsterdam involving two of the teens in the tour group, Nick had gone back to the states along with his girlfriend Paige.

  “Pretty good,” Nick said. “I’m in town, and I’ve got an hour of free time right now. Thought maybe we could grab a drink and catch up.”

  “Absolutely.” Tyler knew better than to ask why Nick was in South Carolina. In Europe, Tyler had learned that Nick’s career fell into the “do not discuss” category. “I just got here two days ago, so I’m not really sure where the good bars are. You got any suggestions?”

  Nick rattled off an address that was close to Tyler’s apartment. He wasn’t surprised that Nick apparently knew where he lived.

  “I’ll be there in maybe ten minutes or so,” Tyler said.

  “See you soon.”

  Tyler tossed the phone back into the cup holder, feeling something other than despair for the first time in hours. It would be good to see Nick again. Maybe, if it wasn’t too weird, the subject of Layla would come up. While in Europe,
Nick had told him that Layla was into him. In fact, Nick was partly to blame for his rash decision to chase Layla. Nick always seemed to know what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. Tyler wanted to be that kind of guy.

  He pulled up to a dive that reminded him of where he’d worked in college. Paint peeled away from the windowless walls, and the parking lot was pitted with potholes. As he cut the car engine, a blanket of calm chased away the insecurity of a night spent at Cypress Grove.

  Inside, the place was half-filled and dimly lit. More than one light bulb was burned out, and the empty barstools boasted cracked vinyl. The bartender nodded to Tyler, who nodded back.

  This rundown bar felt more like home than anything Tyler had encountered yet in South Carolina. It was so very different from the glittering beauty of Cypress Grove. Why had he ever thought he and Layla could coexist in the same world? He was a blue collar Kentuckian through and through, just like his dad.

  As Tyler’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, he looked around the room for Nick. There was a patron at the end of the bar with a scraggly mustache and the unsteady movements of someone who’d had one beer too many. Three women sat at a booth, all with thick makeup and low-cut shirts. But it was the booth in a dark corner of the room that caught his attention. A man sat nearly obscured by the shadows, baseball cap low on his forehead.

  Tyler took a tentative step toward the man, who glanced up. Nick grinned and rose to his feet, clapping Tyler on the back before they both took a seat. Nick was tall, with a muscled physique Tyler envied, and a trimmed beard.

  “Good to see you, man,” Nick said. “It’s been too long.”

  “It’s good to see you, too,” Tyler said. “What are you doing in town?”

  Nick shrugged—a brushoff Tyler recognized all too well after nearly four weeks spent in each other’s constant presence. “This and that. So, you finally chased Layla to South Carolina. Paige will be thrilled.”

  “How’s Paige doing?” Tyler asked. She’d been shot twice during the showdown in Amsterdam.

  Nick relaxed against the bench and smiled. “Nothing keeps her down for long. She’s doing amazing in physical therapy. The doctors are all shocked at her progress, but I’m not.”

  Tyler had never thought of Paige as particularly fierce, but he was glad she was recovering. “And she’s in D.C. now, right?”

  “Yeah. That’s my home base at the moment, too.”

  Nick flagged down a passing waitress, and they both ordered a beer.

  “So, how’s Layla?” Nick asked. “Paige is begging to visit her sometime soon.”

  Tyler ran a hand through his hair. “Layla’s engaged.”

  Nick’s eyes widened. “Whoa. I didn’t know the two of you were quite at that level.”

  “We aren’t.”

  The waitress set the beers on the table, and Tyler took a long sip, avoiding Nick’s eyes.

  “Wow. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know she was dating anyone.”

  Betrayal welled up in Tyler again, and he gave a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I’m as surprised as you are. Guess I should’ve called before moving all the way to South Carolina like a freaking idiot.”

  “This doesn’t make sense. Paige said you were all she talked about.”

  “Really?” Tyler’s heart thrummed, but he pushed his eagerness back. So Paige and Layla had talked about him. Big deal.

  “Yeah,” Nick said. “She never mentioned anyone else, did she?”

  “No. It’s not like we were really together, though.” She’d let Grant put his hands all over her tonight. Wrapped her arm around his as she giggled.

  Nick shook his head, eyes gleaming. “Layla is a straightforward kind of girl. Not the type to keep secrets. There’s something else going on here.”

  Tyler took another sip of his beer. He desperately wanted to believe that Nick was right, but he’d heard the announcement with his own ears.

  Layla’s laughter echoed in his head, and something clicked in his mind. That’s what was off about her tonight—the laugh. It was the fake one she’d used on bad mimes and obnoxious street salesmen. And her smile had been too thin, her lips pulled tightly across her teeth.

  “Don’t give up on her,” Nick said. “I think Layla’s worth fighting for, if she’s really what you want.”

  He was imagining things. Layla wouldn’t be fake laughing at her engagement party. Tyler was reading too much into her behavior tonight because he wanted a different outcome.

  Time to change the subject. “So how are things with you?”

  Nick grinned. “Really good. I’m spending a lot of time with Paige.”

  “You guys finally worked things out, then?” At the beginning of summer, Paige had hated Nick for dumping her in an email then disappearing. Tyler could feel the toxic hate rolling off her in waves every time she and Nick were in the same room together. He and Layla had spent a lot of time avoiding the couple in the beginning. Maybe there was a lot of truth to what they said about love and hate being very close in the heart.

  “Yeah, things are really good between us right now.” Nick took a sip of his beer. “So, you’re in South Carolina. Layla’s engaged. Now what?”

  “I guess I focus on flipping houses,” Tyler said. “Already got a few properties I have my eye on.”

  “I didn’t know you were planning on flipping houses. That’s really cool.”

  “It’s a recent development.”

  “Are you working, too?”

  Tyler ducked his head, embarrassed. Nick must think him a complete and total fool. “I am actually working as a bartender at Cypress Grove.”

  Nick raised an eyebrow. “You mean Layla’s place?”

  “Yeah. She did kind of offer me a job here.”

  “Now why would she do that when she’s engaged to someone else?” Nick shook his head, teeth glinting in the dim light as he smiled. “There’s more to the story. You mark my words.”

  The conversation turned to the properties Tyler had looked at online as they continued to chat, then flowed back to Paige before finally circling around to some of the good times they’d had in Europe. Eventually Nick said he had to go. They paid the bill and headed outside.

  The door swung open, nearly clocking Tyler. He took a quick step back, bumping into a picture frame on the wall behind him.

  “Sorry, man,” the guy said, giving a nod. “Didn’t see you there.”

  “No problem,” Tyler said.

  The man walked away, and Tyler straightened the picture he’d almost knocked to the floor. He paused, squinting at the photo. A tall man with a goatee sat at the shabby bar in a leather jacket, a tankard of beer in one hand and a grin on his face.

  “Did you break the glass or something?” Nick asked.

  Tyler shook his head. He squinted, reading the caption. Carlton Davis, owner. “I know this guy. He was at the party tonight.”

  “Who?” Nick asked.

  Tyler pointed to the man. “He kept talking to Layla’s dad. Kind of weird he owns a dive like this.”

  Nick’s eyebrows drew down in a scowl. “Hmmm.”

  “What, did you investigate him or something?” Tyler said, half joking. The highbrow Andersons wouldn’t associate with someone criminal.

  “No, nothing like that. He owns several businesses across the state, everything from bars like this to high-end casinos that won’t let you through the doors without six-figures in chips. His bookies are pretty well known for skirting the law.”

  Tyler frowned, eying the picture more closely. Carlton Davis didn’t sound like the kind of person who’d be invited to a party at Cypress Grove, but what did he know? He’d also thought Layla was single.

  Nick clapped Tyler on the shoulder, and Tyler followed him outside.

  “It was good seeing you,” Nick said. “Tell Layla I said hi. Don’t give up on her. Something’s up with this engagement. Give her a chance to explain.”

  Tyler slowly nodded. “Tell Paige hi, too.”

 
“I will. Don’t be a stranger.” Nick gave a wave then hopped on a motorcycle and disappeared into the inky blackness of night.

  Tyler rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, then got in his own car and headed toward his tiny apartment. An hour chatting with Nick reminded him that he didn’t have to be the shy, self-conscious guy who always faded into the background.

  He’d come here for Layla. And he wasn’t going away until he got some answers.

  Layla woke up the next morning, her stomach twisted in knots, and knew she couldn’t go along with the engagement. A few dates to company parties were one thing, but this felt too deceptive. Surely there was another investor willing to help out Cypress Grove. The tobacco plantation was practically a state historical site. Selling it should be a criminal offense.

  She stood under the warm spray of her spa shower head, unable to get Tyler’s lopsided grin out of her head. Telling Daddy she couldn’t date Grant would be hard, but she’d made her decision. Then she’d track down Tyler and force him to reveal why he was really in South Carolina.

  Layla spent nearly an hour flat-ironing her wavy hair, taking more care than she usually would with a task the humidity would probably undo. She picked a deep red lipstick and opened her mouth wide, applying it with precision. Today she’d break down Tyler’s walls and claim a kiss or die trying. Four months was long enough to dance around the question of them.

  Her phone buzzed with a text, and she smiled when she realized it was Paige. The two of them had become good friends while working together in Europe, and they’d stayed in touch.

  Nick’s in town, Paige said. He had a drink with Tyler last night. You’re engaged?!

  Layla stared at the phone, her pulse racing. Her fingers flew over the screen. Nick’s in town? What did Tyler say about me???

  One finger hovered over the send key, nearly brushing the screen. Guys didn’t talk about relationships the way girls did, but maybe Paige had read between the lines and had some insight into Tyler’s state of mind.

  But Layla was technically still committed to Grant, despite the messy circumstances. The ladylike thing to do was play the part of doting fiancée until she told Grant in person that the deal was off.