Saving Sycamore Bay (Destined for Love: Mansions)

by Cami Checketts

  “Hey, I’m not quite as big as Baloo.”

  Her eyes skimmed over his shoulders and chest, and she sighed. “You’re big enough.”

  Harrison barely resisted flexing. “Will you go away with me?”

  “Where?” she murmured, looking so kissable and beautiful with her hair in a messy ponytail and a pale blue paint smear on her cheek.

  “It’s a surprise, but I think you’ll like it.”

  “I can’t leave my house.” She gestured around. “What if whoever left those gas cans comes back?”

  “I talked to the detective again this morning. They’re watching the house and Beau closely.” The police hadn’t found any fingerprints on the gas cans or any proof that Beau was the instigator, but they had been great to take the threat seriously.

  “That’s right good of them, but I still don’t feel as if I can leave the house empty.”

  He pulled his trump card. “Mike and Geraldine agreed to come stay at the house while we’re gone.”

  “Well, aren’t you thoughtful?” She moistened her lips and blinked up at him.

  “I try.” He spread his hands wide and tried to look innocent and not cocky. What he really wanted to do was kiss her again, but he needed to let her commit to going away first. He knew it would be hard for her to leave her house, but Moriah was a good medicine that everyone needed once in a while. “Please come with me?”

  She stared at him for half a beat, then stepped closer, stood on tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. “I’d like that. Thank you, Harrison.”

  Before he could think of a smooth way to extend the kiss, she spun and strode to the grand staircase. Harrison wanted to chase after her, sweep her off her feet and kiss her in every room of this house, but he refrained. He needed to take this slow, make sure she knew he was here for her and not anything Henry Goodman had promised him. Moriah would help him make that possible and then some.

  11

  Grace sat in Harrison’s SUV, watching the trees and large estates sliding by outside the window. It had only taken them two and a half hours to drive to Montgomery. Harrison’s hometown. Was he going to take her to meet his mama or sister? Would it be awkward? She still couldn’t quite believe he’d recruited Uncle Mike and Aunt Geraldine to come watch the house. Really, it was the only way she wouldn’t stress about something happening … but what if somebody tried to burn it down while she was gone, and they hurt Uncle Mike or Aunt Geraldine? The thought made her shiver.

  “You cold?” Harrison reached for the temperature control.

  “No.” Grace wrapped her fingers around his hand to stop him from changing the air. Awareness crawled through her at even a simple touch of his skin.

  Harrison’s eyes swept from the road to her face. He turned his hand palm up and interlaced their fingers, then rested them on the console between them. Contented and wondering if she would get the chance to kiss him again soon, she leaned back in her seat with a smile. Harrison hadn’t reassured her that he was here for her and not for Henry Goodman, but he was a good, salt-of-the-earth kind of man. He wouldn’t play with her emotions if he didn’t care about her.

  “Why the shiver, then?”

  “You notice everything, don’t you?”

  “Everything about you.”

  She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I was just worrying, what if something happened to Uncle Mike or Aunt Geraldine while we were gone?”

  Harrison nodded his understanding. “The police are taking the threat seriously and promised to drive by often, and Uncle Mike’s a tough old guy. I know he gave me a stare down I won’t forget.” He winked at her. “I don’t think anybody would mess with him.”

  She tilted her head and studied him. “I don’t think anyone would mess with you either.”

  “Ah, I’m like a puppy dog.”

  She laughed.

  Harrison pulled off the road a few minutes later and up a tree-lined drive. The huge oaks and sycamores were beautiful, but nothing she hadn’t seen before. The three-story restored mansion with two levels of wraparound porch and pillars took her breath away. It was what she dreamed Sycamore Bay would look like when she got it all fixed up. Okay, her house was only half as big as this place, but it was a similar Civil War–era style. The property was immaculate, flowers bloomed everywhere, and the grass looked professionally trimmed. She thought of Harrison pushing her old hand mower around, and her face heated up. Why had she assumed he hadn’t come from money? Why in the world had he really come to help her? His family had to be a lot wealthier than his boss and her dad’s good friend, Henry.

  Harrison pushed the button to turn the car off and smiled over at her, but quickly sobered. “What’s wrong?”

  Grace swallowed and whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you …” He cocked his head to the side and studied her.

  “I’m sorry.” She gripped the leather seat under her bare legs. Her floral skirt and silky tank top suddenly seemed very underdressed. “It’s dumb. I just assumed you didn’t come from money, and I am so confused why you’d come help me, why you’d even be working for an accountant, if this is how you grew up.” She flung a hand out the window at the mansion.

  Harrison chuckled. “If we have time tomorrow, I’ll take you by my parents’ house and you’ll laugh at what you just said.”

  “So you’re not … a multimillionaire?”

  “Driving a Hyundai?” Harrison squeezed her hand.

  The nine-foot wood and etched glass front door of the mansion popped open and a little boy and a beautiful, petite lady with black, curly hair sprinted for the car, both grinning wide. A tall blond man followed them at a more leisurely pace.

  “Brace yourself,” Harrison said.

  Harrison’s door was flung open by the lady, but the little boy scurried around his mother and climbed into Harrison’s arms before she could reach him. “Uncle Hare, you came, you came!”

  Harrison held onto the boy and stood, giving the lady a hug. She squeezed him tight. “Praise the Lord, our little boy’s come home!”

  Grace frowned in confusion. This woman looked younger than Harrison, but she talked like an eighty-year-old grandma.

  Grace’s door swung open and she looked up, way up, into the bright blue eyes and wide smile of the blond man. “I know Harrison would want to get your door,” he said, “but they’ll be mauling him for at least another half an hour.”

  “Oh, you hush now,” the lady said. “I just need a Harrison hug. Then I’ll be fine.” She peered through the car at Grace, her dark eyes bright with happy tears. “He gives the best hugs in the world.”

  Grace couldn’t argue with that. She just about told Harrison’s sister he gave the best kisses too, but didn’t know how that would go over. The man stepped back and gestured her out. Grace climbed onto the cement driveway, the heat radiating over her sandaled toes. The man extended his hand. “Jace Browning, Harrison’s brother-in-law and that beautiful lady’s husband.”

  Grace shook his hand, liking this friendly man.

  “You’d better be calling it how it is, boy,” his wife said, “or you’ll get none of my sweetness.”

  Jace kept grinning at Grace. “The sweetest, most beautiful wife in the world.”

  “Now don’t lay it on too thick, or it doesn’t feel genuine anymore.” Her accent was strong and Grace loved her immediately.

  Harrison steered his sister and nephew around the front of the car to Jace and Grace. “Grace, this is my sister, Moriah; my nephew, Turk; and my brother-in-law, Jace.”

  Grace smiled at all of them. Moriah released her hold on Harrison and threw her arms around Grace. “You’re so very welcome here, honey. I was awful sorry to hear about your daddy.”

  “Thank you,” Grace managed, surprised at the hug and the authentic warmth behind the words.

  Moriah pulled back. “Y’all better come in the house and start eating. I’ve been cooking since Harrison called me yesterday morning.”

  Grace sh
ot Harrison a look. He shrugged innocently. His nephew looked teeny against his broad chest. The nephew was probably about four or five, and had a full head of dark, curly hair and the cutest rounded cheeks. His skin was a shade lighter than Harrison’s and his deep brown eyes sparkled at Grace. “Mama, I think Harrison’s wife is prettier than you.”

  All the adults choked on their laughter, except for Grace, whose neck and cheeks got so hot she wondered if she was purple.

  “Nobody’s as pretty as your mama, son,” Jace corrected him, opening his arms.

  Turk launched from his uncle to his daddy’s arms. “I know my mama’s the most beautifulest woman in the world, but maybe Grace is just as beautiful. I don’t know.” He lifted his little shoulders innocently, then gave Grace a suggestive look. “You wanna be my girlfriend, or you gotta be Uncle Hare’s wife?”

  Grace couldn’t help but laugh, no matter how red her face was. “I’m not his wife, so I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

  “Yes!” Turk pumped his fist in the air, then brought it down to his side.

  Moriah had tears streaking her face, she was laughing so hard. “You shoulda seen your face when he said you was Harrison’s wife.” She shook her head. “Sorry, sweet girl. I don’t want to be laughing at my new friend, but that was classic.”

  They walked slowly up the sidewalk and several sets of stairs bordered with petunias, begonias, and a white ground cover flower that smelled like vanilla, which she figured was clematis. When she could afford more flowers, she would buy some clematis for sure.

  “It’s okay. At least I got a boyfriend out of the deal.” Grace winked at Turk.

  Harrison groaned. “I should’ve known not to bring her around here where Turk would steal her from me.”

  “All the girls love me,” Turk said.

  The adults laughed again.

  “I’m sure they do,” Grace said.

  Turk pumped his eyebrows.

  They made it to the wide front porch with beautiful wood rockers gracing it and what looked to be the original hardwood flooring, stained dark and perfect. The white trim on the railings and beams contrasted beautifully.

  “Oh, I love this house so much,” Grace couldn’t help but say.

  “Wait until you get inside.” Moriah nodded. It wasn’t bragging; Moriah was as enamored with her home as Grace was.

  “She promised me if I bought her the house of her dreams, she’d travel with me at least a week a month,” Jace explained.

  Grace had so many questions pinging around in her head. What did Jace do to be so wealthy he could buy his young wife her dream mansion and travel the world as well? She didn’t think it would be polite to drill him with questions, though, and when he pushed open the wood and etched glass front doors and the air conditioned air whooshed over her, all other thoughts disappeared.

  This house was flawless: cherry hardwood flooring; a grand staircase that swept up gracefully, then curved both right and left; an open balcony surrounding the second story and more stairs leading to the third; wooden chair railings and crown moldings; antique wooden furniture with live floral arrangements and unreal landscape portraits … and that was just the entryway.

  “Please just let me sit here and soak it in for a few days,” Grace murmured.

  Moriah gave a deep, throaty laugh. “Sorry, you’ve got to help me eat some of the food or I’ll be as round as my mama.”

  Grace looked to Harrison for help. “Who can think of food at a time like this?”

  Harrison put his arm around her waist and she leaned against him, loving how natural yet exciting it felt. “If I promise to give you a tour of every square inch of the house, will you eat first and not offend my only sibling? Her food is so good I think about it several times a day.”

  Grace stiffened, as she wasn’t certain if Harrison was teasing her or if she really was upsetting Moriah by not wanting to eat her food. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Go on.” Moriah pushed a hand at her. “I think you’re a doll for loving my house. We’ll eat quick; you’ve seen how this boy can put it away.”

  Grace walked with Harrison, sneaking peeks at the office off the right of the entry with a massive walnut desk and bookcases, and a formal music room on the left with a grand piano, harp, and a drum set. She could just imagine the damage Turk could do to everyone’s eardrums with that. They entered a dining room beyond the music room. A long, oval table sat majestically in the middle of the room, more fresh flowers gracing the center with a display of Lladro china on the walnut hutch to her right. A sideboard with antique hot plates was filled to capacity. The yeasty scent of homemade rolls competed with the roast. She was brought back to Sunday dinners with her mama, daddy, Uncle Mike, Aunt Geraldine and their two girls.

  Everything looked as good as it smelled and she felt guilty for not wanting to eat first, but she could hardly wait to tour every room of the house. She contented herself with taking in the details of the dining room, the creamy walls and oak trim, the large windows overlooking a stretch of grass and the sycamore trees beyond. Harrison was unbelievably thoughtful to rescue her from working on her house nonstop and give her a mini-vacation in a place that was paradise to her.

  Harrison fell harder for Grace every moment he spent with her. Turk was right in that she was the most beautifulest woman in the world, but her intelligence, her wit, her passion for football and Southern houses, and the way he felt when he touched and kissed her—not to mention a thousand other little details that were solely Grace—had him wrapped up like a football in a running back’s arms.

  She made a fuss over Moriah’s roast and potato dinner, especially the rolls and pecan pie, which were delectable. Baking was Moriah’s specialty; she used to bake every day for her friend Trin’s bed and breakfast before she met Jace.

  Throughout the tour of the house after dinner, Grace and Moriah became instant best friends. After the tour, Turk begged Grace to swim with him in the pool. She swam like she was born in the water, and her tanned legs and arms looked perfect to him in her one-piece suit. Too many times she caught him staring at her, and sometimes he caught her staring at him.

  They swam until dark and then went to their own suites to shower. Though this home was built in the mid-1800s, the mansion had been remodeled so most of the suites on the second and third floors had their own private bathrooms.

  Harrison showered quickly but had no desire to go to bed. He crept out of his room into the third-story hallway. Grace’s room was just two doors down. Maybe he could ask if she wanted to go listen to the cicadas in the backyard … or was that just code for “I want to kiss you in the dark”?

  He could hear Moriah’s voice floating up from the open balcony of the second floor, arguing with Turk about going to bed, promising he’d see Grace in the morning. Turk protested even more loudly. Jace’s low rumble soothed them both.

  Harrison smiled. He wanted that someday, though Grace wasn’t close to as feisty as Moriah. He stopped outside Grace’s bedroom door and paused. He actually wanted it right now, with Grace. The breath popped out of his lungs and he had to lean against the wall. That was insane thinking. He hadn’t known her a week yet. But he couldn’t lie to himself: Grace consumed his every thought. He’d never dreamed of bringing a girl to meet his sister before. Watching the two of them together, seeing Grace fall under Turk’s spell of adorableness, exchanging smiles over all of their heads with Jace … it’d been perfect. He wanted it. No, he needed it.

  He rapped softly on the door. “Grace?”

  The door popped open. She stood there in a tank top, cut-off yoga pants, no makeup, and her blonde hair wet and darker.

  “You are so beautiful,” he managed to get out.

  She grabbed his T-shirt, tugged him inside the room, and shut the door. Harrison stood there, powerless. He’d dominated some of the toughest football players in the nation, but this woman had complete control over him. She pushed at his chest and backed him against the wall.

  “Wh
at were you hoping to accomplish coming into my room like this?” She elevated an eyebrow, her blue eyes laughing at him.

  “Well, ma’am.” He tried to sound suave or cool or something, but he was complete putty. “Just a little ole goodnight kiss.”

  She elevated one eyebrow.

  “If that’s too much to ask for,” he hurried to say, “I’d settle for a hug.”

  Grace took a step closer and her body brushed his, setting off a smolder in the pit of his stomach. He was gulping air like he’d just run sprints. She arched onto tiptoes, bracing herself against him with her hands on his chest. Harrison let out a decidedly unmanly moan. The linemen would’ve slaughtered him if they could see him now, yet they’d probably act the same way with someone like Grace pressed close.

  “Moriah claims you give the best hugs, and I can’t disagree,” Grace murmured, “but I wanted to tell her that your kisses are even better.”

  Harrison lit up. It looked like he was getting his kiss. “You’re the expert. Guess I can’t argue with that.”

  She grinned and ran her hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. Harrison couldn’t take it any longer, pulling her against him and pressing his lips to hers. The sweet nectar of her kiss was more delicious than anything he’d ever tasted.

  Through the cloud of joy and endorphins, he heard his name being called repeatedly, until a banging on the door finally drew them apart. Harrison drew in quick pants of air, trying to clear his head.

  “Harrison!” Jace’s voice was more intense than he’d ever heard it. “Moriah put me in charge of keeping you moral. If I have to deadbolt Grace in her room, I will.”

  “As long as you deadbolt me in here with her.” Harrison winked at her.

  The door swung open, and Harrison was relieved that Jace didn’t look mad at all. His blue eyes twinkled at them. “I checked your room first and Moriah gave me strict instructions to keep you two apart. ‘No mac-daddying in my house!’” He mimicked her higher-pitched voice.

  Harrison chuckled. “Don’t worry. My intentions are honorable.”