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

by Lindzee Armstrong

  “Of course,” Catrina said. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

  Layla’s left hand curled around her back. Was she trying to hide that monstrosity of a ring? “Thank you.”

  “Catrina was nice enough to come over so I can show you inside,” Tyler said.

  Layla’s eyes brightened again. “I can’t wait. This is so exciting, Tyler. You’re really doing it.”

  Catrina picked her way across the unstable wood porch and opened the lock box, removing a key. “He chose a good property. I have every confidence this house is going to look amazing when Tyler’s done with it.”

  “He can do anything he sets his mind to.” Layla squeezed his hand before quickly letting go.

  Tyler flexed his fingers, confusion tearing through him. Was Layla having second thoughts about her engagement to Grant?

  Catrina looked back and forth between them, an almost imperceptible furrow between her eyes. “Yes. Well, should we go inside?”

  “Definitely,” Layla said.

  The musty scent of a home shut up for too long hit Tyler full in the face. He glanced over at Layla, but her face was smooth, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen making a few phone calls,” Catrina said. “You two take as long as you want.”

  “Thanks, Catrina,” Tyler said as she disappeared into the kitchen.

  “This home is amazing,” Layla said, her voice infused with enthusiasm. She pointed to the staircase with its curved banister. “That is a perfect staircase for a debutante to descend from for a date.”

  Tyler laughed, folding his arms. “A debutante is going to live here?”

  She tossed her ponytail over one shoulder. “Every Southern girl is a debutante. You could get vintage picture frames and create a collage on the wall.”

  “You know I’m not keeping the house, right?”

  Layla playfully shoved him. “Let me have my fun.”

  He laughed. “Maybe I’ll let you help me stage it for the open house.”

  Layla’s laughter died, and her sea green eyes grew deeply serious. “I would love to help.”

  Tyler cleared his throat and took a step back. “I guess we’ll start with this floor. The living room is right over here.”

  The ghastly yellow paint still assaulted his eyes every time he entered this room. The carpet crunched under his feet, just like always, and sunlight filtered through the dirty bay windows, illuminating the dust floating in the air.

  “I know it’s not much right now, but I’ve got a vision for it,” Tyler said. “There are gorgeous solid wood floors underneath this awful carpet.”

  “It’s amazing.” Layla pointed to the dirty windows. “That’s going to be the perfect place for a Christmas tree. This room has great natural light, and the crown molding is gorgeous.”

  Pride swelled in Tyler’s chest, and he fell for Layla all over again. She saw all the amazing things about this house, just like he did. “Exactly. This place has all the character that makes me want to restore old properties.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” Layla rested a soft hand on his arm, sending tingles all over his flesh. “I know how scary it is to take this risk.”

  He took a deep breath then rested his hand gently over hers. “You made me brave enough to finally take the first step.”

  Layla ducked her head and stepped away. “Is the dining room through here?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Confusion clouded Tyler’s mind. He didn’t know how to interpret all these mixed signals.

  Tyler showed Layla the dining room and kitchen—Catrina was indeed making phone calls—before taking her to the sun room he planned to convert into a laundry room. He showed her the study with gorgeous built-in bookshelves then motioned upstairs.

  “Watch your step,” he said. “Some of the boards are loose.”

  It was hard not to watch Layla’s hips sway as she carefully ascended, keeping a hand on the short railing for balance. Grant might have the pedigree for someone like Layla, but could he make her smile the way Tyler could?

  Layla paused at the top of the stairs, waiting. “How many bedrooms are up here?”

  “Three, plus a bathroom.”

  “Perfect for a young family, then.”

  “I think so.” Tyler led her into the surprisingly spacious master bedroom. “There’s an old powder room I can convert into a small master bathroom, which will help the resell.”

  Layla nodded, looking around. “What about a walk-in closet?”

  Tyler tugged at his shirt collar. “Uh, I hadn’t thought about it.”

  She laughed. “Typical man. Every woman wants a big closet.”

  “Duly noted,” Tyler said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I can’t wait to see what you do with this place. How are you going to sell it when you’re done? I think I’d grow too attached.”

  Tyler shrugged, knowing it wouldn’t be easy. “I can’t live in every house I flip.”

  “I know, but this one is so amazing.”

  He laughed. “Let me show you the bathroom up here then you’ll have seen everything. I’m warning you, it isn’t pretty.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I think you don’t know me at all. I can handle it.”

  Tyler cocked his head to one side, appraising Layla. Her breath quickened, and she brushed her bangs out of her face.

  “I want to get to know you better,” Tyler said quietly. “I moved to South Carolina, didn’t I?”

  “Tyler—”

  He squeezed her hand for the briefest of moments before dropping it. “We can talk when Catrina’s gone. Let me show you the bathroom.”

  Layla nodded. Tyler leaned against the doorframe, watching Layla as she observed the small space.

  “Obviously I’m going to completely gut the room and start over,” he said.

  She wrinkled her nose, and he fought the urge to lean forward and kiss it. “Yeah, this is pretty gross.”

  He chuckled. The toilet bowl contained horrifying stains, and the sink had rusted around the faucet. The caulk around the base of both had been eaten away by water damage, turning the laminate flooring an unpleasant orange color. He’d probably have to rip up the entire sub floor and replace it.

  Layla pointed to the floor. “This is water damage?”

  “Yeah. I’ve budgeted three thousand to gut this entire room and replace everything.”

  She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. “I see what you mean now. That work order for the bathroom at Cypress Grove has to be a lie.”

  A heavy cloud descended over them, wiping away the easy banter they’d momentarily recaptured. There was no doubt in Tyler’s mind that someone was stealing from the mansion.

  “What are you going to do?” Tyler asked.

  Layla shook her head and twisted her hair over one shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about nothing else since I discovered the discrepancies in the books yesterday, and I still haven’t made a decision. I’m not even sure the work order is connected to the books. What if two different people are stealing from the mansion?”

  The worry and despair in her expression made Tyler’s heart bleed. He reached out and pulled Layla to him. She went into his arms willingly, wrapping her arms around his waist as he rested his chin on her head. The embrace had grown familiar during their last month in Europe, and he relished its return.

  “I don’t know,” he said, rubbing slow circles on her back, “but I’m going to help you figure it out.”

  She tightened her hold, face pressed against his chest. He wondered if she could hear the furious pounding of his heart. “Thank you.”

  I would do anything for you. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t make himself say them. Every harsh word between his parents ricocheted in his brain, but this didn’t feel the same. Layla had looked at the train wreck of a house he was buying, and shown enthusiasm and excitement. He hadn’t even shown his mother a picture of the property, because Tyler knew she’d
tell him he was an idiot for buying it. That difference in reactions felt significant somehow.

  Layla stepped back, and Tyler’s arms dropped to his side. Was it his imagination, or did she seem reluctant to let him go? “Show me the rest of the house,” Layla said. “Then, we can talk.”

  Tyler rubbed his chin. “There’s not much left to see. Just a crawlspace underneath the house with a dirt floor. I’ve got some ideas for landscaping the outside that I think will look nice.”

  “I still want to see it. It’s important to you.”

  Tyler shook his head, but grinned. She’d never been more attractive to him.

  Layla peered into the crawlspace and seemed excited about his plans for the yard. Catrina locked up the house and drove away with a wave, leaving Tyler and Layla standing on the front porch alone.

  “I guess we’ve run out of ways to avoid the subject.” Layla clasped her hands behind her back. “We should talk.”

  “We can go to a coffee shop, or—”

  She shook her head and dropped onto the dirty and rotting porch. “Let’s stay here, if you don’t mind. It’s peaceful.”

  “Your dress is going to get dirty.”

  “I’ll change before work, then.” She patted the empty spot beside her. “Sit down and tell me what to do about Cypress Grove.”

  Layla loved everything about Tyler’s house. She loved the quiet street lined with mature trees, the abandoned trike in a neatly manicured front yard across the street, and the detailed woodwork inside. It was easy to see why Tyler had picked this house as his first project.

  A breeze whipped Layla’s hair back. Halloween was just around the corner, and she welcomed the cooler temperatures.

  “What do you want to do about Cypress Grove?” Tyler asked softly, breaking the silence.

  Layla sighed, wrapping her arms around both legs. “I’m not sure. I’ve gone over a dozen different scenarios since yesterday. I could investigate on my own and try to find out who’s behind this.”

  “That could be dangerous,” Tyler broke in. “You saw what happened in Europe when Paige and Nick investigated.”

  Layla rolled her eyes. “Nick was a secret agent going after an international criminal.”

  “Yeah, and Paige got shot twice because of it. We don’t know who these people are or why they’re stealing money. Desperate people do stupid things.”

  Layla rested her head on his shoulder, liking the sound of we. “Don’t worry. I’m not going after them alone. Besides, I’ve thought a lot about it, and it makes the most sense if the two events are connected. It’s too coincidental that two people would be independently stealing from the mansion at the same time.”

  “So it’s one person, then. And we’re agreed that you aren’t going after them on your own.”

  “Yes.” Layla squeezed Tyler’s arm, then let go. “My next idea was to go to the police.”

  “I like that idea,” Tyler said. “I vote we do that.”

  Layla laughed. “But then I realized that the police won’t take me seriously without solid evidence.”

  “You have falsified books and a faulty work order.”

  “Either of which could be explained away as accidents at this point,” Layla said gently. She loved this protective side of Tyler. Loved feeling like a team.

  Tyler grunted. “Okay, so what are you going to do?”

  She took a deep breath. “I think I need to tell my father. He’s the owner of Cypress Grove, and he deserves to know.”

  “Maybe he already does,” Tyler said quietly.

  Layla raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

  “Stacia was fired, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes . . .” Layla let out a gasp. “Tyler, that’s got to be it. Daddy said she was fired for sharing information with competitors. What if it was more than that? What if he caught her stealing money?”

  Tyler furrowed his brow. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I only ever talked to Stacia over the phone. Do you think she’s capable of stealing from the mansion?”

  “I don’t know. I never would’ve guessed she’d sell our secrets, and she did that. I have to talk to Daddy.”

  “Everyone at the mansion seemed to really like Stacia. They’re pretty shaken up over what happened.” He bumped his shoulder against hers, sending a zing of electricity up her arm. “Congratulations on the job, by the way. I never did tell you.”

  The heated declarations from their fight loomed over them, and Layla blushed, focusing on the weeds pushing through the stair steps. “Unpaid job, you mean. But thank you.”

  “You aren’t getting paid? Wait . . . that came out wrong. Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  Layla laughed, peering up at him. His ears were red, and the freckles on his face more prominent. “It’s okay. And no, I’m not getting paid. I offered to help out to save money for the mansion. That was before I knew someone was stealing from us.” Betrayal stabbed up her spine. What had Stacia needed the money for? Had she stolen the money in desperation because a loved one was ill? Or did she simply want to retire to a beach house in some non-extradition country?

  “Who has access to the finances?” Tyler asked.

  “The entire accounting team, obviously. And my father, of course. But otherwise, it’s just Stacia and Cosette, and I can say with ninety-nine percent certainty it wasn’t Cosette. No way could she handle that kind of pressure.”

  Tyler laughed. “I have to agree with you on that one.”

  “Stacia makes the most sense. No one would question what she puts in the ledgers, since she’s in charge of all the events.”

  “Yeah, but how does that factor in to the work orders?”

  Dang. Layla hadn’t considered that.

  “Maybe it’s all just a crazy coincidence,” Tyler offered gently. “The records aren’t up-to-date. Maintenance made a mistake. I don’t know. It’s possible.”

  “Possible, but not probable.”

  Tyler sighed, leaning forward so his arms rested on his knees. “Yeah. I just don’t want this to be true.”

  “Me, either.”

  “So you’re going to tell your dad.”

  “Yes.”

  Silence stretched between them. Wind whipped her hair again, this time carrying a bit of a bite. The clouds had darkened in the distance, and slowly rolled toward them.

  She should get in her convertible and drive back to Cypress Grove. No doubt Cosette needed her help. But Layla didn’t make a move to get up. There was something so peaceful about sitting on Tyler’s front porch, and she wanted to prolong the morning as long as possible.

  “This house is so perfect for you,” Layla said. “When do you close?”

  Tyler shifted, the unstable steps creaking under his weight. “Next week, if everything goes well. I’ve got enough from my student loans to start the demolition and renovation immediately. The tips from Cypress Grove should help fill in the gaps.”

  Layla’s heart warmed. She loved that, in some small way, Cypress Grove was helping Tyler achieve his dreams. Yet another reason to save the mansion.

  “I’d love to watch this place’s progress.” Layla could almost smell the sawdust from freshly cut wood, hear the buzz of power tools, see the dumpster parked in the cracked driveway. “It’s going to be spectacular when you’re done. I’m already jealous of the future homeowners.”

  Tyler grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “I was actually pretty nervous to show this place to you. I didn’t know if you’d like it. It’s so run down and dilapidated—nothing like what you’re used to.”

  Layla stiffened, the words like a slap to the face. “Why wouldn’t I like it? This place is gorgeous.”

  “It will be,” Tyler agreed. Did he not hear the warning in her voice? He’d backpedal fast if he knew what was good for him. “But right now, it’s kind of a mess. Nothing like Cypress Grove.”

  Layla rose, heat piercing her cheeks. “So because I grew up at a mansion, I can’t appreciate something like
this?”

  The first hint of panic crossed his face. He scrambled to his feet. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  Tiny drops of rain pattered against the concrete, leaving dark stains as they dissolved into the ground. Layla’s chest constricted as she stared at Tyler, frustration evident on his face.

  “You’re so far out of my league, we’re not even playing the same game,” Tyler said.

  Layla folded her arms as the wind picked up speed. “That is such a pathetic excuse.”

  “It’s not an excuse!” He tugged at his hair, making the shaggy strawberry-blond locks stand on end. “I’ve seen it, Layla. My mother comes from a wealthy family, just like yours. My grandparents own race horses, and she grew up with the best life had to offer. But then she fell for my dad—a carpenter—and gave up everything for him. They’ve both paid the price ever since.”

  “Are you saying your parents got divorced because your mom is rich?” Layla pushed her bangs off her forehead and gave a disbelieving laugh.

  “It was a contributing factor, yes.”

  His resistance all summer suddenly made so much sense. He’d talked about his parents once or twice. They weren’t on good terms with each other, even years after the divorce, and she knew Tyler often felt caught in the middle. “We’re not your parents, Tyler. You never even gave us a chance! Maybe money isn’t important to me.”

  “Isn’t it?” He took a challenging step forward. “You’re worried sick that you’ll lose Cypress Grove.”

  “That’s unfair, and you know it.”

  “Is it?” Tyler took another step forward, his shoes brushing against hers. “I come to South Carolina one month after we’re together in Europe and find out you’re engaged to some pretty boy with a big fat bank account.”

  Layla pushed against Tyler’s shoulder, shoving him back. “We were never together! I made every move, but you didn’t do a darn thing about it.”

  He captured her hands, pulling them against his chest. “I was terrified you’d reject me.”

  His skin burned through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, singeing her skin. She stared at her hand, held so firmly against his heart. She could feel its rapid thrum beneath her fingers. “So, what . . . you decided to reject me first?”