“Why don’t we finish painting the trim, and then I can look over whatever paperwork you have here and make some calls if I need?” he asked.
“Sounds good. I’ll clean myself up and fry you some catfish and grits.”
His stomach rumbled. He’d eaten this morning but skipped lunch. “You are a true Southern girl.”
She winked and saucily flipped her hair. “And don’t you forget it.”
4
Since Grace’s daddy died, she’d been certain that her life was cursed, but apparently Mama had pushed her weight around in heaven long enough and sent an angel to her. She settled into her bed and smiled, not sure if angels were supposed to be as fine-looking as Harrison or make a girl’s heart thump quite as much, but they were probably all as kind and thoughtful as him. Ahh. The fact that he was only a few bedrooms over was going to make it difficult to sleep tonight. When he’d cradled her in his arms after Beau’s rudeness, she’d had that wonderful feeling that she wasn’t alone anymore and it still warmed her.
They’d spent the evening looking through the will, the papers from the lawyers, and all of the bank statements. It should have been miserable, but it wasn’t because he was there. He smelled like man. Not necessarily some particular cologne, but clean and outdoorsy and just yummy. When he brushed against her arm a few times, she’d had to force her breathing back to normal.
Sadly, Harrison had to agree that the will didn’t look to have any wiggle room. She was only allowed the two thousand dollars a month until she got married or turned thirty, and then she’d have complete control of all the funds—funds totaling over twenty million dollars. The property itself was worth an extra five. The investment company that was after it had offered her five point two million, but she had no desire to sell. This was the place she wanted to welcome lost children who needed a place to live and belong, who needed her.
Yet how in the world was she going to keep paying the bills, maintaining this place, and scraping enough food together for two thousand dollars a month? She would never get the Alabama Department of Human Resources to award her any foster children living by herself with no money and a house that was falling down around her head.
She was baffled that her daddy would do this to her. She’d argued with the lawyer, Ike, that he’d meant to put another zero on the end of that monthly stipend. The lawyer had kindly explained that her daddy hadn’t wanted her to have a lump sum of money until she was old enough to make smart choices. He told her that her daddy had most likely meant for her to find a husband because he didn’t want her to be alone, and then he not so smartly suggested that Beau Steele would be perfect for the job. Grace may have given a completely unladylike snort and sneer that shocked her lawyer, as he had known her mama. Beau and her? Not happening.
The real truth of the matter was, her daddy hadn’t thought he was going to die and hadn’t updated his will in over twenty years, since she was a baby. Back then, two thousand dollars a month was a lot of money and the property had been in much better shape. He also probably thought he’d live well past her thirtieth birthday and give her hand away in marriage. She sighed, but luckily her eyes stayed dry. She’d cried enough about her loss.
Grace heard a cough from outside her open second-story window and then saw a flash of light. She scrambled out of her covers and to her window. The light moved off toward the beach. Who was on her property? She’d been alone the past month and a half, and although she didn’t like it, she’d grown pretty brave. Pulling her daddy’s 1911 out of the drawer, she loaded in several bullets, then hurried from her room, holding the gun to her side. She slipped quietly down the back staircase and into some shoes next to the kitchen door.
Suddenly she stopped. She’d completely forgotten there was a buff, intimidating-looking man sleeping upstairs. Should she yell for him? She pushed open the door and scanned the yard. She’d yell if she got in trouble. Her daddy had taught her how to take care of herself.
She headed toward the beach, but couldn’t see the light anymore. There was a slip of a moon, but not enough to know if someone was lying in wait for her behind the knotty trunk of a cypress tree or out in the wetlands. She hated feeling so vulnerable and suddenly she felt exposed in a tank top and cut-off sweats, even with the reassurance of the weapon cradled in her palm.
“Grace,” a deep voice whispered too close.
Grace whirled and pulled the gun up, aiming for the man’s chest.
“Whoa! It’s me.” Harrison stepped back and put his hands up. The faint light of the moon kissed his smooth, brown skin, but his dark eyes were hard to read right now.
Grace lowered the gun, her hand shaking from the adrenaline rush and the terror of realizing she could’ve shot him. “Oh, Harrison. I’m sorry.”
“My fault. Remind me not to sneak up on you.”
“You are scary sneaky.”
“Perfected the art of scaring my sister.” He winked, but stepped close and lowered his voice. “Did you see somebody?”
“Yes. Did you?” She instinctively leaned toward him, and the trembling seemed to calm.
He nodded. “I followed the light down to the beach, but they took off in a boat.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” She blew out a breath, and her fingers relaxed on the trigger and she clicked the thumb safety back into place. At least whoever had been here was gone, but why was somebody here? Just teenagers messing around, or was it something more sinister?
“Let’s get you inside,” Harrison said, his voice calm and even, the steady reassurance she needed right now. He wrapped his arm around her, and his bare chest brushed her shoulder. Why didn’t he have a shirt on? Heaven help her. All thoughts of a trespasser fled as she could feel his muscles pressed against her.
“Do you always sleep half-naked?” she couldn’t help but ask as they walked through the kitchen door and she flipped a light on, turning to face him.
Harrison coughed out a laugh. “Um … yeah. Does it bother you? I can sleep in a shirt.”
“It doesn’t bother me.” She shook her head quickly and couldn’t help glancing at the fine display of muscles covered with smooth, brown skin. “Football was good to you,” she said, then blushed.
Harrison chuckled.
“I’m going to make some chamomile tea,” she blurted out. “Would you like some?”
“Sure.” He locked the back door behind them and settled onto a barstool next to the wide butcher-block island.
Grace set the gun on the counter and hurried to fill a kettle with water, feeling awkward that Harrison was watching her every move with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing beat-up clothes. Then again, that was how she’d looked when he’d met her and he hadn’t seemed to care.
She set the kettle on the stove and pushed the button to ignite the burner.
“Did you do a sport in college?” he asked.
“No. Why do you ask?” Grace turned, pressing her hands behind her and leaning against the countertop.
“You’re in great shape.” He glanced away, and Grace liked him even more for the slight embarrassment after his compliment.
“Thanks. I love to run, placed in state in the two-hundred-yard dash, but I wasn’t fast enough to run for Auburn.” She turned around and busied herself putting tea bags in the cups, then filling them with the boiling water. Setting a cup in front of Harrison, she cradled her hands around her cup and sat on the stool next to him.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Thank you for being here. I can’t tell you how nice it is to not be alone.” Her voice caught on the world alone. She was truly on her own in the world without her parents. Why couldn’t they have had another child?
Harrison nudged her shoulder with his and bestowed that perfect smile on her. Ah, those teeth were white and straight, and even when he smiled his lips stayed full. “Happy to be here.” His brow wrinkled. “I just wish I could be more help. Do you mind if we go visit the lawyer tomorrow and see what we can figure out?�
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“Sure.” But she doubted it would help at all.
He took a sip, then spoke quietly, almost like he was afraid she’d get upset. “I understand not wanting to sell because it’s your family home, but it’s a lot of house and property to maintain alone.”
Alone. There was that word again. “I know, but I have some dreams and this is the perfect place for it.”
He angled toward her, and her breath caught as she couldn’t help but look over his muscled shoulders and chest, then allowed her eyes to dip down to his abdomen. Whoa, man, beautiful, beautiful man. “Care to share your dreams?”
She smiled at him and forced her gaze to meet his rather than focus so much on his physical attractiveness. He was a great guy, and that was much more important. “I want to do foster care. I want to fill Sycamore Bay with children who need a spot. I mean, look.” She gestured around, even though it was dark outside. “There’s so much room, and when Mama and Daddy were alive there was so much love. I always wanted brothers and sisters. So … that’s my dream.”
Harrison simply stared at her, long enough that it got uncomfortable. He finally nodded and said, “I love your dream, Grace. I’ll do all I can to help you.”
Grace smiled, then took a sip of her tea. She didn’t know him very well, but he loved her dream and would help her. She believed him. If anyone could help her, it would be Harrison Jackson.
5
Harrison was no stranger to hard work, but Grace seemed to thrive on it. They took a break from painting the next morning and started in on the overgrown yard. Harrison trimmed around the house and flower beds with a weed whacker, mowed the entire two acres of grass with a mower that wasn’t self-propelled, and then cleared dead limbs throughout the edges of the forest and burned them. Grace tilled the vegetable garden and hand-weeded through more flower beds than he’d ever seen on a private property. She never slowed down and she never complained. She could’ve given the work ethic speech at football practice and maybe some of the lazier guys would’ve listened. He smirked. He knew he’d listen to anything she had to say.
They showered in the late afternoon and Harrison put his suit back on to go meet with the lawyer. When he exited his room, Grace was in the hallway. He stopped and just drank in the sight of her. A blousy red shirt and dark grey pencil skirt looked professional, yet feminine. Her shapely legs were showcased with heels that might give her the height to bring the top of her head to his chin. Her blue eyes seemed bigger with a little makeup on and her luscious lips were perfect in a shade of red like her shirt. Her long, blonde hair cascaded in curls down her back.
“Wow,” Harrison managed. “If the lawyer tells you no, he needs his vision checked.”
Grace flipped her hair over her shoulder and placed a hand on her hip. “Are you suggesting I’m going to get special privileges because of how I look?”
Yep, she and his sister, Moriah, would be the best of friends. Harrison smiled and took a step closer, feeling as bold as he did when the ball was in the air and the offense thought they were going to catch it, but he knew he was going to intercept and there was nothing they could do to stop him. “I’m saying you’re the most beautiful, hard-working, and dedicated woman I’ve ever met, and I could never tell you no.”
Grace’s lips parted and then closed. Finally, she smiled. “I hope you don’t have to ever tell me no, then.”
Harrison chuckled and offered his arm. He escorted her to his new Hyundai Santa Fe Sport. He’d never had a car of his own, which was fine throughout high school as his parents had let him borrow their beat-up old Ford truck whenever he needed to drive. In college he’d been close enough to home, and busy enough with football and school, that it hadn’t been an issue. But he was very proud to have his own vehicle now, and especially that it was new. His parents had never owned a new car. His dad had worked hard as an electrician and they’d always had enough but not a lot of extras. His parents and sister were insanely proud of him pushing his way through to his master’s degree and getting a job with the most high-powered accounting firm in Montgomery.
He got Grace’s door and she gave him a sweet smile before sliding into the leather seat. Jogging around to the driver’s side, he climbed in and pushed the start button.
“This is a nice car.”
“Thank you.” He smiled proudly and slid it into gear, driving down her tree-lined driveway.
“It seems too small for you, though.”
“Too … small?” She didn’t like his car? His shoulders drooped.
She laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you or anything. I just pictured you driving, like, a monster truck.”
“Monster truck?” Harrison turned onto the main road leading toward downtown Mobile. “That doesn’t feel very classy.”
“You’re right.” She pursed her lips and angled toward him.
Harrison glanced over at her and his breath caught. He’d never seen anyone to rival her beauty, but it was the determination in her soul and the sweetness that radiated from her that made her irresistible.
“Yes, the monster truck definitely is not classy enough for you, but you need something big …” Her eyes brightened and she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. A Hummer would fit you perfectly.”
“A Hummer?” He scrunched up his forehead. He didn’t have any problem with Hummers, but he really, really liked his Santa Fe. Did that make him wussy in her eyes? Nobody had ever suggested he was wussy.
“Or maybe a Range Rover or an Escalade.”
Harrison could never afford a Range Rover or an Escalade. Well, maybe if he took over Mr. Goodman’s clientele and was frugal for a few years. He shook his head. He didn’t need to impress Grace with his car. If she cared that much about what he drove, she was shallow and not the woman for him.
He shook his head again. He barely knew her. What was he doing worrying if she was the woman for him?
Grace laughed. “You should see your face.”
“What’s my face doing?” Now she didn’t like his vehicle or his face?
She reached up and smoothed the skin between his brow. His breath caught at the warmth of her fingers on his face. She trailed her fingers along the side of his face and across his jawline before pulling them back. “That handsome face is all scrunched up and worried. I’m just teasing you. I think your Santa Fe is great.” She grinned. “You don’t take teasing very well, do you?”
Harrison smiled, relieved. “My sister teased me every day of my life.”
“Oh, good. I was worried you didn’t know how to take a tease.”
Harrison reached across the console and grabbed her hand. Her eyebrows lifted up, but she squeezed his hand back. “I can take whatever you dish out,” he said.
She grinned and leaned back against the headrest. “Have I told you yet today how glad I am that you’re here?”
“Nope.” Harrison was glad that he was here too. He didn’t mind crunching numbers, but being with Grace and not being stuck in an office were both immensely better options. It was the choice between playing in a game or running sprints. He’d run the sprints because he knew it would make him faster, but he’d much rather be sprinting in the game.
They chatted about memories from college as they drove to the lawyer’s office. It was interesting how differently she perceived Auburn U. They’d both worked hard, but she hadn’t been surrounded by student athletes, student officers, and school sponsors like he had.
When they walked into the plush office twenty minutes later, Harrison held out a little hope that the lawyer could help Grace restructure her annuities, but that hope dissipated quickly. The man wasn’t at all pompous or a “shyster” like Henry Goodman had claimed. He was down to earth and explained everything in layman’s terms. He went so far as to ask his partner to come in and see if there was any way they could restructure things to help ease Grace’s financial burden, but the will was ironclad. A half hour later, even though the men had been gracious and kind, Grace walked out wit
h her head slightly bowed like she’d been chastised by the principal.
The bright sunlight washed over them as they stepped onto the sidewalk, and Harrison drew in a breath of humid air. The news they’d received wasn’t what either of them wanted to hear, but at least the lawyer appeared to be in Grace’s corner. He hated to see Grace looking so down and wanted to restore her smile.
“Where to?” he asked brightly.
Grace turned and stared at him. “Were we in the same meeting?”
Harrison took a long breath. “I know things don’t look great right now, but …” There really wasn’t a but. Grace needed to sell or get married. She couldn’t keep going like she was.
“It’s a lost cause,” she filled in for him. “I either sell, get married, or somehow survive on two thousand dollars a month until I turn thirty.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I could survive on that easily if I would’ve had time to finish school and get a good-paying job, but I’ll never survive on it trying to fix that money pit up, and I’ll never get my kiddos.”
Harrison met her gaze, willing her to find her strength and feistiness again. If she needed a moment to despair, that was fine, but he wanted to be here for her. “You know, I’ve never seen downtown Mobile, and also I’m starving,” he declared.
Grace’s brow pinched as she stared him down. Then she shook her head and a small laugh escaped. “Is this you not letting me get discouraged or be a whiny woman?”
“Not get discouraged,” Harrison said. “You’re the least whiny woman I’ve ever met—almost as tough as my mama and sister.” He winked.
“Well, thank you. I like being grouped with your mama and sister. Hmm. I guess if you’ve never been to Mobile you have to walk down Dauphin Street, and then maybe we can find you some food.”
Saving Sycamore Bay (Destined for Love: Mansions) Page 3