Layla flew to her window, gazing at the mansion. She searched the ballroom windows, which were dark and empty since it was still early afternoon. Where was he?
She rose on her tiptoes, moving her gaze down to the pond. Were those posters set up all around it?
Tyler stood on the concrete pier in his bartender’s black slacks and charcoal gray vest. He raised a hand, the goofy grin she so adored on his face.
Layla flew down the stairs, the sound of her parents’ arguing still floating from the study. She ignored it and pushed open the doors to the veranda.
A poster stood at the opening to the porch, staked into the soft clover with thin wire. Layla stared at the photo, a grin spreading across her face. She and Tyler stared up at her, their faces smeared with melted chocolate as they stood beside the Trevi Fountain. We both love gelato, the caption read.
Thunder boomed. Dark clouds rumbled overhead, and the November breeze had her shivering.
Layla stepped off the porch and followed the pathway to the pond. A few feet down, another poster was staked into the ground. This one showed them on top of the Eiffel Tower, grinning like fools. Neither of us is afraid of heights.
She quickened her pace, eager to see which picture was next. This one showed her laughing as a cow licked her hand on the Swiss Alps. We both enjoy hiking, the caption read.
Thunder rolled again. Tyler stood on the pier, still grinning like a fool. Her heart quickened as she raced to the next poster, and the next one, and the next one.
She slowed her pace as she stepped onto the concrete pier. Tyler reached down and picked up a poster, holding it in both hands. Thunder echoed on the breeze, and Layla laughed at the picture. It was from one of their first weeks in Europe. Layla stood in the rain, arms open wide as her clothing clung to her skin. We both love the rain, the caption said.
“I guess Mother Nature wants to help me out.” Tyler dropped the poster to the pier and stepped over it.
“What are you doing?” Layla asked.
He gently threaded his fingers through hers. “I’ve spent a lot of our time together worried about all the ways we’re different. But what I haven’t spent as much time thinking about is all the ways we’re the same.”
She smiled, tipping her head toward the posters. “It would appear we do have quite a bit in common.”
Tyler nodded, his eyes serious. “My parents spent their entire relationship bickering about their differences, and it tore them apart. But we’re not my parents, Layla, and I’m not about to make the same mistake.”
“I think that’s a wise decision. You haven’t even taken me on an official date yet.”
“But we have had our first official fight. More than one, in fact. I’m sorry. I had no right to say what I did last week.”
Layla put a finger to his lips, sorrow piercing through her happiness. “You were right.”
“What?”
She let her hand drop; the pain Tyler’s present had erased had returned, but it didn’t hurt quite as much as before. He’d somehow cushioned the blow. “My father is the one embezzling. Mr. Davenport’s been blackmailing him.”
“Oh, Layla.” He wrapped his arms around her, and she clung to him, breathing in the scent of freshly cut wood. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.” She blinked back the tears. There would be days and weeks and months ahead when she would cry. Right now, she wanted to relish this moment. “But one good thing came out of the discovery.”
“Oh?” He cocked his head, staring at here with concerned eyes.
She held up her left hand and wriggled her fingers. “I gave Grant back the ring.”
He grabbed her hand and stared at it. Then he raised his face to the sky and let out a whoop of laughter that was soon lost in a crack of thunder.
“No more Grant?” he asked.
“No more Grant.” Layla placed her hands on either side of his face, electricity sparking at the contact. “The only man in my life from this moment on is you, Tyler Keeton. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” He buried his hands in her hair, slowly lowering his lips toward hers. This time, nothing stopped them.
Tyler’s kiss was better than she’d imagined—firm and tentative and hungry all at once. Layla clung to him, her heart soaring with each gentle touch. He kissed her neck, her eyelids, her cheeks, then finally found her mouth once more.
Thunder shook the ground. The heavens opened and rain poured down on them. Layla laughed and pulled Tyler to her once more, tasting his lips. Kissing Tyler didn’t come close to her fantasies. The real thing was so much better.
“Remember when you danced in the rain in Europe?” Tyler whispered against her lips.
Layla laughed, pointing to the now soggy poster on the pier. “How could I forget?”
“That was the moment I started falling in love with you.”
She threaded her fingers through his hair. The rain plastered it to his head, turning the strawberry blond a light brown. “I think I’ve always loved you, Tyler Keeton. I just hadn’t met you yet.”
His laughter rumbled in her ear, causing a delicious shiver to race through her body. “Well, in that case, why don’t we put something else on your finger?”
Layla drew back, searching his face for a hint of what he meant while her heart pounded in her chest for an entirely different reason. “What?”
Slowly, he sank to one knee and flipped open a velvet box. Layla gasped, her shoulders trembling as rain ran down her face.
“I love you, Layla Anderson,” Tyler said. “I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” Layla shouted. Tyler slipped the ring onto her finger with a trembling hand, whether from the cold or from nerves, she didn’t know. It was a simple solitaire diamond on a thin gold band, just as she’d always imagined it would be.
She sank to her knees on the pier and threw her arms around her fiancé. He laughed and pulled her close, his warm skin counteracting the chill of the rain.
As his kisses wove a web of magic around them, Layla managed to forget about money. She forgot about her father’s betrayal, and the future of Cypress Grove, and everything but Tyler.
He was her family, her future, and her home all rolled into one.
Seven Months Later
Layla lifted her face to the sky and breathed deeply. The June air was heavy with humidity, and dark clouds gathered overhead. She smiled, praying for rain. It would be the icing on today’s wedding cake.
“Ready?” Cosette asked. She wore a mint green chiffon dress that flowed around her calves, and had curled her hair becomingly.
Layla took a deep breath and accepted the bouquet of red roses. “Ready.”
The two women had grown close over the past seven months. Cosette had been an unexpected support during this trying time. Both women had been lucky enough to be re-hired by the new owner of Cypress Grove. Layla was now officially the event coordinator, with a salary and everything, and Tyler continued to bartend. The new owners had been good to them, and she couldn’t be more grateful.
Layla followed Cosette out of the mansion and down the soft clover hill to the pond. Spanish moss draped the nearby trees, and lily pads floated on the surface of the water, their flowers in full bloom. Rose pedals dotted the concrete pier. A gust of wind rose up, sweeping a few of them into the pond.
Layla clutched the bouquet, nervous excitement racing through her. She searched hungrily for Tyler. They’d driven to Cypress Grove together, but even an hour apart felt like too long.
She found him at the end of the pier, dressed in a brand new gray suit with his hands clasped in front of him. Her heart flipped, and it took all her willpower not to race past Cosette and throw herself into his arms. She’d never seen a more handsome man.
A minister stood next to Tyler, along with a contractor he’d made friends with while renovating their Victorian home. Both Tyler and Layla had spent every spare minute on the place. They’d finally moved in yesterday.
She couldn’t wait to live there after they got back from a short honeymoon in Charleston.
There’d always be houses to flip. Catrina was already looking for their next potential property. But the Victorian was theirs.
Cosette walked down the pier, and Layla followed in her simple lace dress. Tyler grinned her favorite sideways smile, and butterflies exploded in her stomach.
Seven months ago, she never would’ve considered getting married in a quiet ceremony, wearing an off-the-rack dress bought on clearance with only a minister and two friends as witnesses. But since her family’s assets had been seized, Layla had learned money wasn’t as important as she’d always thought. She could live without a lot of things, but she didn’t want to live without Tyler. They’d considered who they wanted at the wedding, Paige and Nick at the top of the list, but in the end decided to quietly elope on the same day they’d first met exactly one year ago.
Tyler bounced on his feet, waiting impatiently for her to reach him. She laughed when he gave up and met her halfway down the pier, hand outstretched.
The last seven months had been a hailstorm of vitriol from polite society. Once her father and Charlie Davenport were both arrested, Layla knew life would never be the same. The trial would start soon. Both men would probably serve time in prison. Layla’s sense of safety had been shattered, but she was slowly rebuilding her relationship with both parents. Her mother had fled to New York and was trying to decide whether or not she wanted to remain married. Every conversation Layla had with either parent now centered around money—their lack of it, how Daddy had lost it, what they’d do without it, how they could get more. It was exhausting, and she’d found herself pulling away. She loved them, but didn’t want the constant stream of negativity invading her life.
But Layla couldn’t think about that today. This was all about her and Tyler and the life they were starting together.
He stared at her, his eyes glowing. “I love you,” he mouthed as the minister began the ceremony.
She smiled and mouthed, “I love you, too.”
“Do you, Tyler Keeton, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?” the minister recited.
“I do,” Tyler said, slipping the ring onto her finger.
“And do you, Layla Anderson, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?” he repeated.
“I do,” Layla agreed. She took a simple gold band from Cosette and slipped it onto Tyler’s hand. It was practical and beautiful and quiet, just like him.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the preacher said.
Layla rose on her tip toes, and Tyler crushed her to him in a hug. His mouth found hers, gentle and warm and full of promise.
Cosette laughed, and thunder rumbled over head.
“We did it, Mrs. Keeton,” Tyler whispered against her lips.
“Yes, we did,” Layla agreed.
And the first drop of rain hit the ground.
Kiss Me in the Rain by Lindzee Armstrong
Cypress Grove Mansion, a treasured constant in Layla's perfect life, will be sold to the highest bidder if she doesn’t date an investor's son. The problem? The man she really wants just rolled into town.
Roping His Heart by Jaclyn Hardy
Rachel has dreamed of owning the old mansion since she was a child. When Patrick comes to town with the deed in his hand, Rachel’s hopes are shattered. Can she have both the house and the man who has captured her heart, or will she be left with nothing?
The Princess and the Pizza Man by Cassie Mae
Cupid is supposedly haunting Frostville Mansions, and skeptic Will heads to the place with the hope his sister will finally find the love she wants. But when he starts to fall for the fun and spunky owner, he wonders if there may be a love god living in the walls after all.
Mending Fences by Lorin Grace
Two decades ago a little girl climbed a fence and found a friend. Now all she finds is trouble. Daniel Crawford has taken to chasing off intruders by any means possible. No one is going to cross the fence into his land. Or his heart.
Love Me at Sunset by Lucinda Whitney
The remote Sunset Manor is the perfect place to start over for the new groundskeeper. But when suspicious accidents start at the property, will he be able to protect the reclusive widow?
Saving Her Plantation by Cami Checketts
Harrison Jackson has always been revered for his athleticism. When he’s asked to help a southern belle, a woman looks past his stats and handsome face, he falls quickly, but she’s in too big of a mess to commit to anyone.
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Rachel stopped weeding and wiped her brow. It was uncommonly hot for June, and her plants were feeling it. If it didn’t rain soon, it wouldn’t matter if her flowerbeds were well groomed because everything would be wilted and gone.
She stood and stretched her back, then grabbed her tools to put them away. The rest would have to wait until evening when it was a little cooler. The darkness of the old rundown shed felt good on her skin, and she regretted having to go back outside. But this was the last of the chores on her list for the day, which meant she could escape for just a little while.
Rachel walked into her house and heard the gentle hum of the sewing machine coming from the back of the house. Mama must have decided to sell her quilts at the town market after all.
The smell of peach pie wafted in from the kitchen, and three more cooled on the stove. There would be more by that night. Rachel poured herself a glass of water and enjoyed the feeling of it running down her parched throat.
She set her glass in the sink and went to the back of the house, where she found her mother leaning over the sewing machine. “I got what I could, Mama. I’m going to run into town. Do you need anything?”
Mama stretched and looked at Rachel. She had three pins pursed between her lips, preferring that over using a pin cushion. She shook her head and waved before going back to her sewing.
Rachel turned, grabbing her keys on the way out. Her boots crunched on the gravel as she walked to her Chevy truck and climbed in. She turned on the engine and opened the windows before pulling onto the road. It was a thirty-minute drive into town, and it would take about half that for the air-conditioning to start working. She wasn’t going there yet, though.
Rachel turned onto an unpaved road a few miles later, her truck bouncing through the potholes. She needed to add more money to the jar she had hidden. Soon she’d have enough to put a down payment on the old mansion. In three more weeks, it would go on the market, and she could snag it.
The thought brought a smile to Rachel’s lips. Her own house. And not just any house—the perfect spot for a bed and breakfast, like she’d always dreamed of owning.
She was jarred out of her thoughts as the mansion came into view. Trees surrounded it. The twisted branches gave the yard character.While most people thought the whole property was an eyesore, Rachel had loved it since childhood. She pulled into the driveway and avoided the broken branches lying on the ground.
Rachel reached under the seat and pulled out an envelope. She counted the money again just to be sure, but she knew there were five tens, two twenties, and forty ones. She rolled it into a bundle and climbed out of the truck, shoving the money into her pocket.
The mansion welcomed her as she walked past the wild branches and up the old, worn steps. The brick exterior had seen better days, but still held up over the years. A few of the windows were cracked, but those had been boarded up at some point. The entryway had large cobwebs throughout. She shuddered and ducked into the small drawing room to the right. The only footprints in the room were her own, which was good. No one had found her stash yet.
Rachel stomped her
foot as she walked. She had to do it just right. There! One floorboard made a hollow sound compared to those around it. She pulled the threadbare rug back, careful not to tear it. She sneezed as it stirred the dust, then knelt on the rug to hold it out of the way so she could lift the loose board. A jar of money sat nestled in the crack, along with a few old notebooks containing ideas she’d written down over the years. She pulled out the jar and shoved the bills inside, then screwed the lid back on. She told herself yet again that she should put all the money in the bank, but having it here just seemed to keep the dream of owning the mansion a little more real.
Once everything was set back exactly right, Rachel climbed the stairs to the library, where she pulled back an old ragged curtain to let in some light. Only a few books sat on the shelves now, and they were hers. She needed to return one to her aunt, so she slipped it under her arm and then picked up another.
The trill of her cell phone made Rachel jump. She pulled it out and cursed under her breath when she saw the caller ID. This call wasn’t going to be short.
“Hello?” Rachel turned and headed for the stairs.
“Hey, Rachel. Reverend Miller wants to know if you’ve made up your mind yet.” Mrs. Peterson was the organizer of the city celebration on the night of the Fourth, and had bugged Rachel endlessly about performing.
“You know I haven’t performed in years. I don’t even have anything ready to go.” Rachel made sure the door to the mansion was firmly shut and went to her truck.
“Nonsense. Your voice is like an angel’s.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. True, she’d always been told she had a great voice, but she wouldn’t compare it to an angel. “Thanks, but I’ll have to think about it. I have things I need to do around the ranch, and Mama is making quilts, so I’ll need to help with the baking.”
“Fair enough. But can I just put you down as a maybe?”
Rachel sighed. “Fine. If you can’t get anyone else, I’ll do it.”
Kiss Me in the Rain (Destined for Love: Mansions) Page 14