Harrison sat and she went to the fridge, coming back with a tall pitcher of lemonade and pouring two glasses full. Sadly, she had no cookies, pie, or anything sweet to serve with it. Her mama was definitely rolling over in her grave right about now.
“Thank you.” Harrison took the glass in his large palm and drained a long swallow. “Warm today.”
“You should take that suit coat off.” Grace reddened, partially because of her implication that she’d like him to take clothes off, but also because she couldn’t afford the air conditioning, so she’d turned it off. It was a warm June day in the South, well over eighty with way too much humidity and no breeze to hope on. “I mean, if you want to.”
Harrison simply smiled at her and shrugged out of his suit coat, placing it on the back of his chair. Grace watched in awe, her jaw gaping slightly. His white shirt was short-sleeved, so his beautiful biceps were on fine display.
“I remember every time you intercepted the ball,” she said dreamily, luckily catching herself before she told him everything she remembered: those large hands snatching the ball out of the air, his biceps bulging through his football uniform …
“You really were a fan.”
“Oh yes, sir. Never missed a home game, and watched all the away games on the TV.” When he shifted as if her admission embarrassed him, she asked, “Do you miss it?”
“Oh yeah. I loved playing.” He shrugged and took another drink, gripping the glass tightly. “But we all have to grow up at some point.”
Her enthusiasm deflated. Harrison should still be playing football and she should still be enjoying college life, but here they were. He was a professional businessman and she was a professional painter and maintenance woman. Ha.
“What did you graduate in?” he asked, smiling at her.
Dang, he seemed like a nice guy. Who would’ve thought it? She’d dated a few athletes in college and some of them had heads bigger than their stats. Harrison should’ve been like that, but he definitely wasn’t.
“I have a bachelor’s of education and I was halfway through my master’s when Daddy passed.” She gestured around sadly. “It was either come home and take care of things, or lose Sycamore Bay to some jokers who want to tear it down and build a massive resort.” She gestured out the large windows at the sweeping back lawn, which overlooked a gorgeous beach on Mobile Bay. Oak trees lined the property, almost a hundred acres of grass, forest, and swampland. She couldn’t even keep the grass around the house mowed and trimmed. The flower beds were a mess and the rest of the property was overgrown. Hopefully her poor mama couldn’t really look down on her from heaven, though Grace always felt like she was.
“I’m sorry about your daddy.” He guzzled the rest of his lemonade and casually reclined into the chair.
“It is what it is.” She fought back the tears, brushing at one that she didn’t catch fast enough. “So what did Henry send you to do?”
He glanced away and rubbed at his neck. She’d most likely embarrassed him with her emotion. “Well, he wanted me to help with your financial trouble and whatever else you need.”
She cocked her head to the side. “How long does he expect you to stay?”
“Until the job’s done.” His gaze met hers again.
“Like, stay here in the house? With me?” She swallowed and lowered her voice. “Please.” Please say yes, please say yes. Did she sound too needy, or not needy enough? She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but if Henry had sent him, she knew she could trust him. She’d really, truly love to have someone around for protection, help, company. Being alone was miserable, and sometimes downright terrifying. Sometimes she heard strange noises in the night or saw lights down on her beach. Her daddy’s gun was a small reassurance, but luckily no one had tried to come into the house yet.
“If that’s all right with you, ma’am. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“The ma’am-ing is making me uncomfortable.” She smiled. “But I’d be much obliged to have you here. I’m struggling.” That was about as much as she could admit to at this moment. She was so far past struggling. She was drowning in loneliness, sorrow, and despair, and had no clue how to balance preserving her heritage and finding a life for herself someday.
He nodded solemnly, and they stood. “Well, then, put me to work, ma’am—I mean, Grace.” He said her name a bit uncomfortably.
“What kind of work were you expecting to do?”
“I can do anything you need—maintenance, yard work, my mama taught me how to cook. I’m not great at painting, but I can learn.” He gestured to her paint-splattered self and smiled. Oh, his teeth were well taken care of. She wanted to write his dentist a thank-you note.
“In that suit?” Grace looked over his six-foot-four glory. She would never want to get him dirty in that fabulous suit.
“I clean up right nice.”
“Yes, you do.” And that was much too forward.
“I meant, I can get dirty and I’ll clean up—not that I think I look good in the suit.” He blew out a breath. “That came out all wrong.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You are not at all what I expected.”
“How so?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Watching you play. You never seemed cocky like some of the other guys, but I just assumed you would be because of how amazing you play and how good-looking you …” She bit at her lip, wishing she could bite off her tongue. “Whew. Time to stop talking.”
Harrison gave her a slow grin. “It’s all right. I’ll take compliments from a pretty lady any day.”
That got her laughing again. As scrubby as she looked right now, she knew he was just teasing her. “Do you have your things outside?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She swatted at him. “Call me ma’am again and I’ll make you sleep in the attic.” She blushed, knowing she couldn’t really threaten him with anything. He was here helping her, and she was in deep debt to him already.
“I can sleep anywhere, ma’am.” He dropped his voice low and his deep brown eyes twinkled at her. Those eyes could be soulful, mirthful, sexiful. Wait, that wasn’t a word.
She glanced over him. “Big guy like you needs a good bed.” She could not believe they were teasing about beds, of all things. A tingle shot up her spine. Harrison Jackson was going to be sleeping in her house. Oh goodness. She needed to call Isabelle and squeal about this or something.
He shrugged. “I’m easy to please.”
Grace thought she’d better curtail the flirting before she revealed exactly how infatuated she was with him. She hurried in front of him and pushed the kitchen door open. He was quick, darting to the door and holding it for her. Of course he was quick; he was Harrison Jackson. She gave him a faltering smile and strode down the hallway.
Henry Goodman had promised her daddy he’d take care of her, but he’d sent Harrison as his replacement. Henry deserved a lot of blessings right now. She’d quadruple her prayers for him and Maribelle.
3
Harrison kept sneaking glances at Grace as they painted white trim throughout the main living areas. He’d had no inkling what to expect coming here, but she had exceeded every scenario he’d run through his mind during the two-and-a-half-hour drive. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful and a fan of his football career, though both of those were nice bonuses. It was the sparkle in her blue eyes as she teased with him; the resilience in the set of her smooth jaw, even though she’d been through so many hard things; the way she had her blonde curls tied back in a sloppy ponytail like she wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He loved that she was painting and trying to maintain this enormous house and property. She was a lot tougher than he thought she’d be, and he’d really like to hold her close and reassure her that he would help her through this … but he was getting way ahead of himself even thinking that. Still, what an hour ago had been an uncertain and unwelcome step toward job promotion was already becoming a personal quest to help Grace.
A hard rap came at the door, and a man shouted through it. “Gracie Lee, your favorite stud in the world is here!”
Grace rolled her eyes and set her paintbrush on the tray. “Pardon me, please.”
Harrison nodded, trying not to look crestfallen. A boyfriend? Why hadn’t he realized that Grace would have someone? He’d only known her an hour and he’d already considered campaigning for the job of boyfriend if it was open. Apparently it wasn’t. The disappointment shouldn’t slice so painfully. He barely knew her. He kept painting the whiteboard as carefully as he could, but still he hit the main part of the wall much too often. Grace had told him that they’d paint that part next, so it was no worry. Hopefully his painting skills would improve by then. The brush felt too small for his big palms.
As Grace and the maybe-boyfriend spoke, their voices carried easily to the formal dining room, where he didn’t even try to not listen in.
“What on the Lord’s green earth are you doing?” the man asked before Grace even said hello. “You act like you’re a slave or something.”
Harrison’s hackles rose. If this was Grace’s boyfriend, she definitely needed an upgrade.
“Back off, Beau, or I’ll paint a stripe down your face so everyone knows what a skunk you are.”
This Beau guy laughed. “There’s my little spicy girl. Seriously, darlin’, why do you work yourself to the bone when you know I’ll take care of you? Sell this dump and move in with me—or better yet, marry me. We’ll have bundles of money and no worries but how you’re going to make me happy.”
Harrison set his paintbrush down and stood. Who was this joker, and what right did he have to tell Grace what to do?
“Don’t you ever call my house a dump. You claim you want help me, but marrying you is not the help I need. All you do is poke fun at me. Get your sorry carcass out of here!”
Harrison strode toward the front entry before his good sense could talk him out of it.
“Aw, come on, baby. Don’t be like that. You know I just love you …” The guy’s voice trailed off as he spotted Harrison. He was a slicked-back preppy guy with the collar of his golf shirt turned up and tanned legs and arms showing. Country clubs and daddy’s money were all too evident. Harrison disliked him at first glance.
“What the …” Fortunately Beau muttered the expletive under his breath. “How did he get here?”
Grace turned and drew in a shaky breath, leaning against the doorjamb as her eyes met Harrison’s. “This is Harrison Jackson. All-star cornerback for the Auburn Tigers.” She beamed proudly at him, and his chest swelled from her obvious adoration.
Beau arched an eyebrow and brushed his hand through his blond hair. His icy blue eyes swept over Harrison. “I know who he is, Gracie. The thing I don’t know is why he’s playing maintenance man at your house.”
Harrison bit back a retort and stepped forward with his hand extended. “Nice to meet you.”
Beau stared at his hand for half a beat before slowly lifting his arm and giving him a quick, limp handshake, as if Harrison would soil him with paint or something more sinister. “You had a great season last fall,” Beau spit out. “Too bad nobody from the NFL thought so.”
Harrison’s jaw tightened and he had to force a smile. “It was fun while it lasted. Did you go to Auburn?”
Beau nodded shortly. “Graduated with this princess, but she thinks she’s Cinderella or something.”
Grace stuck her tongue out at him, then turned to Harrison. “You’ll have to forgive his atrocious manners. Beau’s been my friend since we were in the womb, and he thinks he can act like a brother and tell me what to do.”
Beau stared at her. “You’ve never thought of me as a brother, and we’re way past friends, little girl.”
Grace blushed. “In your dreams.”
“Every night,” he countered.
Harrison was feeling decidedly uncomfortable, and he suddenly realized that he hated this Beau guy. It was too strong for barely meeting the dude, and Harrison usually got along well with everyone. Even in grade school, when there’d been some strong racial prejudice, he’d found ways to tease about it and make friends, but Beau just rubbed him wrong. Maybe it was because the guy had pointed, out in front of Grace, Harrison’s absolutely failure to play football at the next level, but it was more likely that Harrison was worried that Beau and Grace really were “way past friends.”
“Harrison and I need to get back to work. If you’ll excuse us …” Grace turned to walk away.
Beau grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him. She cried out.
Harrison used his speed and strength to his advantage, and before Grace or Beau could react, he’d seized Beau’s wrist and squeezed hard. The man released Grace and Harrison quickly put his body in front of her as a shield. It was pure caveman reaction, but he didn’t care at the moment. He didn’t say anything, but simply stared down at Beau.
“What is this?” Beau asked. “Grace is my girl, and I don’t care who you think you are—you don’t come in here and pull her away from me.”
“I am not your girl.” Grace moved around Harrison to glare at Beau. Harrison barely resisted wrapping his arm around her. It wasn’t his place or his time, but he really, really wanted to protect her from this idiot.
Beau looked Harrison up and down, then turned the force of his glare on Grace. “So that’s how you’re going to play it? I’ve been here for you your entire life, but some big-name, overly muscled football player comes along and you just push me away?”
Grace lifted her chin. “You picked this fight, Beau. I’m not selling my house to your daddy, and I’m not moving in with you or marrying you. When you’re ready to be my friend again, a real friend who is there for me and isn’t pushing me into things I’m not comfortable with, you know where I am.” She stepped back. Harrison released Beau’s wrist and backed up next to her right as Grace slammed the door in Beau’s face.
He turned to her with a smile of congratulations on being so strong, but her beautiful blue eyes were swimming in tears and her lip was trembling. “Oh, hey, hey.” Harrison couldn’t resist any longer. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her against his chest. She sort of moaned in relief, and Harrison found his arms holding her closer. Her body was strong yet soft—the perfect mix of femininity and athleticism, in his opinion. He’d been pretty busy with football and fitting five years of schooling into four with getting his master’s degree during the time he had a football scholarship, so he hadn’t dated a lot, but plenty of girls had come on to him. Grace in his arms felt more right than any woman ever had.
Grace burrowed her head into his chest and hugged him back. Harrison cradled her there awkwardly. He wasn’t really the type of guy to mutter sweet nothings, but he felt like this was the time to say something. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m here.” He repeated a few times.
Grace sighed softly, but didn’t respond besides clinging to him tighter. Harrison gently rubbed his hands up and down her back. She smelled like an interesting combination of paint fumes and sweet vanilla. Several blissful minutes of holding her passed before she sniffled and raised her head, pulling back slightly. “I’m sorry. You probably think I’m the biggest wimp ever.”
“I think you’re tougher than anyone I know. Except maybe my mama, but she’s kind of scary tough.”
She laughed softly and wiped under her eyes. Shaking her head, she pulled away, and Harrison felt like he had to let her go. They stood there in the entryway. Grace wouldn’t meet his gaze, and he didn’t know her well enough to force her to talk to him or force her back into his arms like he really wanted.
Finally, he couldn’t resist asking because he was afraid she was crying because she really did love the guy. “So you and Beau …” Please say no, please say no.
“Are not together and never have been.” She blew out a breath. “He thinks he owns me sometimes, but he really is a good person.” She lowered her voice and muttered, “Sometimes. It’s one
of those difficult, family friend type of deals, and Beau’s been through a lot. You know how that goes?”
Harrison smiled, thinking of how his mama would react if any kind of friend treated someone the way Beau had just treated Grace. She’d be reaming Harrison out right now for not knocking the kid on his butt.
She pulled her fingers through her long curls and then twisted a lock around her index finger. Harrison’s mouth went dry, and he wondered how that hair would feel with his hands tangled in it. Focus. “So you put up with him because of your family, or his?”
“Our mamas were best friends. They grew up together and so Beau and I grew up together. Our daddies tolerated each other. They did some business deals, but my daddy didn’t really like working with Mr. Steele.”
Harrison rubbed a hand over his head, getting a bad feeling in his gut. “Mr. Goodman wanted me to look over all your financials and figure out why your money’s tied up. Does any of that have to do with Mr. Steele?”
Grace’s eyes widened. “It shouldn’t, but I could show you everything I have. Do you want to do that now?”
“You know how I love numbers.” He winked.
Grace smiled, and it reassured him that she was okay now. “Giving up football to crunch numbers. Crazy.”
He laughed, but wondered if he needed to set her straight, if Beau’s snide comment hadn’t already showcased had he’d failed. He would’ve kept playing football if anybody in the NFL would’ve offered him a decent contract. He wasn’t quite big enough physically to play his position at the next level, and he knew that, but it was still tough to swallow. Several of his friends were still trying to live the dream, working out every spare minute and going to every Pro Day and hoping an NFL scout would notice them and pick them up. Harrison would’ve enjoyed playing more, but that wasn’t the Lord’s plan for him and he was okay with that, most of the time.
Saving Sycamore Bay (Destined for Love: Mansions) Page 2