Gypsy Love: A Gypsy Beach Novel

by Jillian Neal

  Arley rolled her eyes and tried to settle in. He had packed for several days. She tried to solace in that, but the feeling of needing him so desperately and not knowing if he felt the same way was getting old quickly. She wasn’t certain she recognized this side of herself, and more importantly, she knew she didn’t like it.

  An hour later, she unlocked her apartment door and smiled. It was tiny, but it was hers. She sighed and headed to the kitchen, anxious for coffee. “Make yourself at home. You can put your stuff in the bedroom. It’s at the end of the hall.” The sights and sounds of home soothed her. She’d turned her apartment into a cozy nest of books, words, coffee, and things that made her smile. She ran her hands along the laminate counter top as she waited on her Keurig to warm up. She moved to her father’s old desk in the living room. It was much too large for the room, but she loved it. She set her laptop down on its inlaid leather top and went back to the kitchen.

  “Want some coffee, John?” she called.

  “Always, baby doll. You know that.” When he answered he was right behind her. He soothed her momentary startle by wrapping his arms around her waist and guiding her back against his chest. “So, what do I have to do to get you to give me copies of your other six books that you have on the bookshelf in your bedroom, Ms. Copeland?”

  She grinned as he ran his stubble along her cheek and then soothed the burn with tender kisses. “I thought you wanted to read Daddy’s manuscript.”

  “I do, but I’ll be here for several days, and I want to read your books more.”

  She smirked. “You can have them, but it will cost you.”

  A low growl sounded in her ear as she managed to switch the mugs under the Keurig spout and start it again while he kept her body locked tightly to his. “I’m listening.” His right hand trailed upwards to cup her breast. Her nipples rose obediently to his beckoning touch.

  “I may tie you up, and make you do my bidding, and never let you leave.” She challenged.

  “Do you want to get the rope or shall I? That might make going to your hearing tomorrow difficult, but I’ll figure it out.”

  She spun in his arms. He captured her lips with a deep, drawing kiss that left her breathless. When he begrudgingly released her, John moved to her refrigerator and located a new carton of half and half that miraculously hadn’t expired while she’d been travelling. He fixed her coffee just the way she preferred and provided her with the mug she’d placed under the Keurig.

  “Oh, I meant to ask you, should I wear something conservative tomorrow? You know, so I look like a completely respectable woman that doesn’t write erotic romance?”

  Concern creased John’s brow. “A lot of completely respectable women write erotic romance, Arley, and do you even own anything that doesn’t look like your grandmother and her best friend Sister Mary dressed you?”

  She huffed her offense. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you’ve got a stunning body, and I’d like to see you show it off a little more.”

  “I do own other things. I just … don’t wear them … all that often.”

  John drew a long sip of coffee and set his mug on the counter. “Well, then, my sexy seductress, how about tonight you put on something that makes me salivate, let me wine and dine you wherever you want to go, make every other man within a fifty mile radius jealous as fuck that I get to bring you home, get you out of the dress, and spend the rest of the evening wrapping your stunning little body around my cock. That sound okay to you?”

  Arley tried to come up with a way to argue, but truthfully, she was quite flattered.

  “But right now, show me this illustrious publishing contract and the letters of the bankruptcy filing.”

  “Say please to both requests.”

  With a smug smirk, he drew her back to his body, removed her coffee mug from her hands, and laved her lips with his own. He primed her entire body, making her hungry for more. “Please, baby.” He breathed the words across her lips before he turned his head and extended the kiss.

  John heard the shower in the only bathroom in her tiny apartment come on as he flipped through her publishing contract. He shook his head. She would’ve needed a legal degree from Harvard to have navigated all of the bullshit they’d thrown in. They’d made it sound great and had fucked her over thoroughly.

  He tossed the contract across the desk and moved onto the bankruptcy letters. Both the pub house and their creditors were in Nashville. He had half a mind to drive up there after her hearing tomorrow and give several of them a piece of his thoroughly pissed off mind.

  A half hour later, John shrugged on one of the two suit coats he’d packed. He’d hoped she’d let him take her out somewhere nice to get her mind off of the hearing. Arley swallowed down a raw case of nerves as she appeared in her bedroom dressed in a tight, black, gauzy dress that dipped down in the front between her large breasts, curved in at her slender waist, and then flared out over her sexy ass. She’d strapped on a pair of six inch, fuck-me stiletto heels.

  “Damn, woman! You look gorgeous.” John gasped for breath. “I want to eat dinner off of you.”

  She beamed over his admiration. “You made me get all dressed up. Now, you’re taking me out for dinner and dancing.”

  “Dancing, huh.” He took her hand and spun her into his arms.

  “Yes, dancing.”

  “I can probably handle that.” With a great deal of show, he dipped her back in his arms and then brought her back up and turned her in front of the mirror. “What do you see?”

  She frowned. “I see me.”

  “No. When you look in that mirror, what do you see?”

  “John,” she huffed.

  “Tell me, Arley, then we’ll go.”

  “I see me in a pretty dress.”

  “Try again. Really look this time.”

  Shooting him an annoyed glance, she studied herself in the mirror. She’d pulled her hair up off of her shoulders but had let a few tendrils spill down her cheeks and neck. Her eyes were clear and excited. He was standing behind her, so she felt safe and content. She smiled. “I see me and I look really pretty, and I love standing here with you.”

  “I’ll take that for now, but I see the most stunning woman on this planet, and she looks vivacious, and brilliant, and full of ideas, with lips I can’t wait to kiss and a killer rack that I’ll be fighting to keep my hands off of all damn night. It doesn’t matter where I’m standing, I’m looking at her.”

  Fifteen

  Arley’s eyes blinked open just after three the next morning. She shifted, and John automatically repositioned in his sleep to keep her safe in his arms. His very slight snoring had awoken her. She guessed he had to have a few flaws. He was human after all. She let the night replay slowly in her mind. He’d made her feel like a princess, and he’d played every part her Prince Charming.

  She eased away from him slightly, so she could look at his face in the moonlight. “I love you.” She mouthed the words just to see what it might feel like to say them. The crickets outside her apartment sang their soft lullaby, and she wished so badly that she could bring herself to awaken him and tell him how she felt and that she knew he loved her, too. That he didn’t have to be afraid. But she couldn’t. With an audible exhalation of breath, she tried to quiet her mind and enjoy the feeling of being caught up in the safety of his arms.

  The next time she awoke she was alone in her bed. Panic shot through her as she forced herself upright and drew her robe tightly around her. Her abdomen eased when she found John sipping coffee and poring over the original manuscript of The Man from Wellington. She grinned.

  Sensing her presence, John smiled automatically. “I can’t believe I’m getting to read this. It’s incredible. Here.” He stood. “Sit down, sweetheart. I’ll make you some coffee.”

  After their coffee, John made a concerted effort to try and get Arley to eat something, but she didn’t manage more than a piece of toast. Her nerves were palpable. John was glad
the hearing was that morning. He wasn’t certain she would make it to an afternoon session.

  While driving her to the Birmingham courthouse, he kept up constant reassurances that this would be open and shut. He could offer her no promises on how her family would react, however, and that’s what had her spun so tightly.

  Truthfully, he thought she was better off without them, but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted. After locating a parking place, he engaged the emergency brake on his Porsche and went on with the speech he really didn’t want to have to make. If it weren’t absolutely necessary, he never would have given her this particular rule.

  “Sweetheart, you know I’m crazy about you. I’m in this until you decide you’re better off without me. I’m hoping you don’t figure that out too soon, but for today, just until we’re outside of the courthouse, we probably shouldn’t act like a couple. I don’t want to give your family any room to appeal this.”

  “So, we’re a couple?”

  Her question threw him. Of all of the responses he’d been expecting, that sure as hell wasn’t it. “I kind of thought that’s what we had going on.” He shrugged.

  Arley bit her tongue to keep from demanding to know what that meant to John. She had to focus on the hearing right now, but later, they needed to talk about this relationship. Hanging in the balance was too exhausting.

  “Okay,” she managed as she opened her own door and stepped out of the Porsche.

  John had the letters and copies of emails already submitted to the judge in his briefcase. He kept his hand professionally on the small of her back and tried to treat her the way he treated any of his regular clients. He directed her to a bench near the Probate Judge’s office.

  They were assigned a small courtroom a few minutes later, and he took the seat beside her. What little color her beautiful face managed to hold evaporated as a woman that had to be one of her sisters entered the courtroom with two men. “That’s Savannah and Billy, the one with the mullet. And that’s my Uncle.”

  “The fine Probate Judge of Tilldale, Alabama?” John husked.

  Her slight smile and gentle nod eased his heart. Her nerves were getting to him.

  “I’m right here, sweetheart. It will all be over soon. I promise.” He winked at her discreetly.

  “Oh my God! My mother came!” she choked as a woman with her nose so far in the air, John was certain she would drown come rainfall, stalked into the courtroom, along with her own lawyer. She was a monument of righteous indignation if ever there was one.

  John smirked at her defense attorney. Bring it, asswipe. I’m about to own you, her entire family, and this courtroom.

  As this was just a will hearing and not an actual trial, the judge eased in from his office and took his seat. “All right, this hearing is to determine right to inheritance for a Miss Arley Evelyn Copeland from the last will and testament of her father, Mr. Dylan Earl Copeland. That correct?”

  John gave the judge a respectful nod. Mrs. Copeland’s attorney followed suit.

  “Mrs. Evelyn Anders Copeland and her sister Mrs. Ruth Anders Blackman hold that Arley is not in compliance with the stipulations of Dylan Copeland’s will and therefore should not be awarded her assigned inheritance. Is that correct, Mrs. Copeland?”

  “Yes, your honor.”

  John was taken aback suddenly. Arley had been named after her mother. He wondered if she hated her middle name as much as he hated his.

  Arley rolled her eyes. “She looks like she’s in perfect health to me,” she huffed under her breath. John coughed to cover her declaration and tried to hide his delighted smirk. There was that fire she’d been missing all morning.

  “Shh, baby.” he mouthed.

  “And Mrs. Copeland, you believe that it is Arley’s career that does not follow your husband’s guidelines for behavior required to receive her allotted monthly inheritance from his estate?”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Copeland refused to even glance Arley’s way. John had to order himself to keep his arms away from Arley. He wanted to take her away from her horrible family, take her out of that courtroom, and wrap her up in him. He wanted to take her away from anything that might cause her more pain.

  “Ms. Copeland,” the judge turned to Arley, “Could you please tell the court what it is you do for a living?”

  John offered her a kind smile.

  “I’m an erotic romance writer, your honor, sir,” she answered with more tonality than he was certain she had in her at the moment. Grace and strength exuded from her. She’d dug deep, and he’d never been more proud.

  Air that had been trapped painfully in John’s lungs managed to escape. The judge nodded his understanding, but didn’t seem to agree with her mother’s assessment of her career.

  “And your legal counsel has submitted numerous emails and letters from your father encouraging your writing career. He’s included several copies of one of your manuscripts with your father’s notes in them. It appears he helped you hone your craft. Are these all from your father, Dylan Copeland, Arley?”

  “Yes, sir. Daddy helped me write my first novel, and he emailed me almost every day, encouraging my work when I first started submitting manuscripts to publishers.”

  “Your honor, sir, I do have several outside samples of Dylan Copeland’s handwriting if analysis is necessary. You have the dozens of emails, all with date and time stamps and Dylan’s email account in the headers. They’re all from her father.”

  “Agreed, Mr. Rowan.”

  “So, Mrs. Copeland, it seems your husband had no problems with your daughter’s career. Makes me wonder why you seem to have such an issue with it.”

  “Arley is making a mockery of her father’s career, your honor. The family won’t stand by and allow her to do this.” This time Billy had spoken.

  The judge narrowed his eyes. “And who are you?”

  “William Hutchison, sir. I’m married to Savannah, Arley’s older sister,” he announced as if his nuptials were a ratifying accomplishment.

  “And what business is this of yours, Mr. Hutchison? Unless you are asked a question directly, sit down and shut up, son.”

  John fought not to laugh. Arley tried to hide her sly grin.

  “Ms. Copeland, if I may be so bold, with the evidence your attorney presented, this case is open and shut, but your father passed three years ago, dear. Why did you wait until now to bring this court?”

  Arley drew a deep breath. “Well, sir, I’d hoped that my family would realize that I take my career very seriously. They don’t have to like or read my work, but I believe that stories make the entire world go around. They’re how we pass down family histories, past mistakes, past victories, and most importantly, they’re how we share love. When I realized that they weren’t going to release the money to me, even knowing that Daddy would have wanted me to have it, I felt my hands were tied. My uncle, he’s right there,” she pointed to the man simpering beside her mother, “is the probate judge in Tilldale, where we’re all from. I knew he wouldn’t rule in my favor. I didn’t know I could have the hearing moved until Mr. Rowan explained that to me.”

  “Is that so?” The judge turned his baleful glare on Arley’s uncle. “Mr. Blackman, did you or did you not vow to administer justice faithfully and impartially when you became a judge in Tilldale?”

  “Uh, I did, sir.”

  “Might want to remember that in the future. I’d hate to have to report you to the state ethics committee. Mrs. Copeland, is there any other evidence you have of Arley’s behavior that you feel wouldn’t meet your husband’s standards? I’ve checked thoroughly. She has no record of any kind. She has no outstanding credit issues. Her bills are paid on time. She doesn’t even have a parking ticket to her name. Seems like an upstanding citizen to me.”

  Tangible fury broadcast from Arley’s mother, but she never even cast a glare Arley’s direction. “No, your honor.”

  With a nod, the judge shrugged. “This court rules in favor of Ms. Arley Evelyn Copeland. She
is to receive the full amassed amount of her inheritance as set by her father from the time of his death to the current date, and then she will receive a monthly allotment just as Mr. Copeland’s other children do.” He slammed the gavel and that was that.

  Arley slumped in relief, and John wanted desperately to embrace her. Her family followed her mother out of the courtroom like mindless sheep willing to follow their leader right off of a cliff. John shook his head. Tears welled in Arley’s eyes as she watched them go. They never even acknowledged her. How do you refuse to see your own child?

  Trying to stop her chin from trembling seemed impossible when her entire body was quaking. Her own mother just walked out on her. This was what happened when you go your whole life pretending to be something you aren’t. You ended up abandoned and scorned. You ended up alone.

  Hollow and empty, Arley allowed John to guide her back to his car. She would never be able to dislodge the mental imagery of her family walking away without so much as a backwards glance. She’d never missed her father more than she did at that moment. The days she’d promised herself with him faded quickly into surviving moment to moment. John was going to leave, as well. She’d been lying about who she was and what she wanted the entire time. She’d done it again.

  “Just trust me a little while longer, baby doll.” John urged as he dug into massive baked potatoes at Al’s Deli and Grill.

  She forced herself to continue playacting just a little while longer. The numbness of her brain offered her no other options. Rejection clawed at her heart with vicious mocking that she’d never be worthy anyway. “I do trust you. I was just anxious to get something back,” she sighed.

  “I know, but if you start buying them back book by book, you’ll kill my negotiating power. I want to make an offer for them as one set. I’ll save you a shit-ton of money that way.”

  “Okay.”

  Sixteen

  By the time they returned from having new tires put on her Corolla, she was a disaster. The whirlwind that had been her life turned to a maelstrom in her gut. She stared out the window and tried to let the soft rain that had arrived just as the sun had set soothe her.