Her high beams provided answers about three-quarters of the way to her house. A huge puddle covered the path, stretching from the tree-line on the left and continuing all the way to the other side of the drive. She slowed and steered the Tahoe through, listening as the muted sound of rubber cutting through water thinned to the tinny, hollow pings of waves splashing against her hubcaps. The water seemed to get deeper by the second. How much clearance did the Tahoe have? A foot? Eighteen inches? And how would she fare, knee-deep in water with a discernible downstream current?
Best not to find out. When the barn came into view, she gave the steering wheel a hard turn and drove up the slight slope on which the structure perched, lurching to a stop beside the big, double-hung sliding doors on the side. Her heart pounded as if she’d sprinted up the driveway. Sweat coated her cold skin. Three feet more, at most, and she’d have a wading pool for a first floor. She needed to…fuck…what could she do, except grab everything important, toss it in the back of the Tahoe, and drive to her parents’? Her mind raced through a list of things to gather—her sketchbooks, everything in the safe, her tools, her computer…oh God…so much. She launched herself out of the car and nearly lost her footing on the slick, muddy ground. Rain gear. A hysterical laugh tried to break free from somewhere beneath her pounding heart. Rain gear would be handy.
Stinging droplets pelted her skin and soaked her hair. She pushed it out of her eyes and took a lunging step toward the barn. The blast of a horn brought her head around, and headlights momentarily blinded her.
A Campbell’s Construction super-duty pickup lumbered up the slope. Another followed a few yards behind, and then a flatbed loaded with something. Mayor Campbell stepped out of the first truck, along with three beefy guys wearing work boots and rain ponchos. Campbell walked toward her while the other guys headed around to the bed of the truck.
“What the…” She swallowed, and tried again. “Mayor Campbell, what’s going on?”
“I got a call from a friend of yours a couple hours ago, asking me to get a team out here with sandbags. These guys”—he pointed to the growing group of men assembling around the now-parked trucks—“are going to build you your own personal floodwall.”
“Oh my God. That’s amazing, but…” Questions poured in faster than she could process them. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s involved with this kind of thing. I’m not sure I can afford to have you do it, and even if I can, what’s the point? It’s a temporary solution. The next big rain will land me right back in this same predicament.”
Campbell held up a hand. “Don’t worry about the cost. Pinkerton is footing the bill, and there’s a permanent solution in the works.”
Okay. None of that made sense. “Ricky called and arranged for this?”
“Not exactly. He signed off on the check, but Pinkerton didn’t put the wheels in motion.” Campbell trailed off as a black Range Rover roared up the slope and skidded to a halt a few feet away.
An instant later, Shane stepped out. She blinked, struggling to wrap her head around the fact that he was…here. He closed in on them, his steps unfaltering, but his scruffy jaw, wrinkled jeans, and half-laced boots testified to a long day—or possibly days—leading him here. He shrugged out of a hip-length all-weather jacket as he walked. A black baseball cap bearing a Haggerty Consulting logo shielded his eyes from view, yet even so she knew they were locked on her.
Her knees went weak.
Mayor Campbell cleared his throat. “I’ll let this guy explain.” Then he clapped Shane on the shoulder and disappeared.
The Haggerty hat funneled the rain to the edge of the brim, where it rolled off in steady drops. He turned it backwards and then leaned toward her and wrapped his coat around her.
“What are you doing here?”
He met her stare. “I’m here to fix things, baby girl. Just like I promised.”
…
Twenty-four hours, three flights, innumerable phone calls, and one dead-serious threat to beat the shit out of someone all paid off here and now with the stunned but relieved look on Sinclair’s face. The stunned part wasn’t too flattering. Obviously, she hadn’t expected him to come through in her hour of need, but the relief told him everything he needed to know. Her world might be upending before her eyes, but his being here eased something inside her. She trusted him to try and make things right.
And he would. He was the man with the plan, and he had one for her—for them. He pulled his jacket more snugly around her.
“You arranged all this?” She gestured at the men springing into action around them.
“For starters.”
“How?”
“Haggerty contacted me yesterday and told me Ricky had rammed the golf course permit through the planning commission and then fast-tracked the construction. I called in the big gun.”
“The big gun? Mayor Campbell?”
“Bigger. I called Claudia Pinkerton and let her know her grandson was putting a piece of Magnolia Grove history in jeopardy with his new golf course. I figured the president of the Magnolia Grove Historical Society might object. Stridently. Let’s just say she prevailed upon Ricky to get a crew down here ASAP and sandbag the place. Ricky’s personal financial situation will suffer severe reverses if this structure takes any water damage.”
He watched her lips twist into a fleeting smile at the idea of Claudia Pinkerton reading her grandson the riot act, but then she put a hand on his chest and looked up at him with serious eyes. “I appreciate the effort, and all the trouble you went to, Shane, but clearly you were right from the start. I’m now in a flood zone. If the resort’s permit is valid, that’s a permanent situation. I can’t live behind a wall of sandbags forever. According to the city’s zoning ordinances, I can’t live here at all.”
“I know.” He covered her hand with his. “I have a plan for that, too.”
“A three-phase plan?” Dark brows arched. “Isn’t that where we started?”
Hopefully not where they ended. “You love this barn. I get that. You also own it. Every board. Every brick. So, we’re going to move it—every board, every brick.”
Her mouth fell open. “Move it where?”
“That’s up to you, but…” This was where the plan got personal. He pulled her in closer and tipped her chin until their eyes met. “I just happen to hold the deed on the perfect spot. Big, quiet lot. Plenty of trees. It’s zoned for residential use, and water encroachment isn’t an issue.”
She gripped his hand. “Are you serious? You’d let me put my barn on your lot?”
“Well, it’s a little more complicated. There are some strings attached to my offer.”
“I—” Her mouth worked for a moment, then she swallowed as if her throat had gone dry and started again. “Let’s hear them.”
“I come with the lot, Sinclair. Or rather, we do. I’m sorry I lied. I wasn’t playing you so much as looking for a way to convince you to deal with me—and when you did, I fell for you all over again. Hard, and fast, like the first time, but this time there was no fucking chance I could walk away. I bought the lot thinking I wanted to hold onto an important piece of my past.” He laughed. “I didn’t realize until afterwards, when I was sitting there with a deed in my hand, I’d only owned up to half my motives. It wasn’t just about the past. It was about the future. The whole truth is I wanted the lot because I want roots. I want a home. I want you. And I want this baby we’ve made. I don’t have a hell of a lot of control over that part, but I’m in, Sinclair, for whatever ride life takes us on.”
She blinked fast and wiped at her damp cheeks, which might be a bad sign, or just a by-product of the rain that fell in a steady shower around them. “You hate it here.”
“No. As someone took the time to point out to me recently, I belong here. I haven’t fought hard enough for my place, but that’s going to change. I’m not leaving just because certain people would rather not have me around. I don’t really give a shit if half the town thinks I’m trouble. I�
�m staying. So, what do you say, baby girl? You want to settle down with Magnolia Grove’s least-favorite son?”
Her arms were around his neck and her body plastered to his before he finished asking the question. Triumph surged, only to recede just as quickly when her voice broke over something like a sob, and she said, “No.”
He eased back and lowered his chin to get a look at her face. “Sinclair, I have to warn you, I’m going to do whatever it takes to change your—”
“No, you’re not Magnolia Grove’s least-favorite son. You’ve earned people’s respect. All of this”—she gestured around them again—“proves my point. Claudia Pinkerton doesn’t suffer fools, but she didn’t doubt when you told her the barn was at risk. Mayor Campbell wouldn’t rally a crew in the middle of a rainstorm to lay a bunch of sandbags just because Ricky showed up with his checkbook. He did it because of you. They trust you.”
Maybe they did, and later, he might take a moment to appreciate the victory, but right now, he only cared about winning one person’s respect. “What about you, Sinclair? Do you trust me?”
By way of answer, she came up on her toes and sealed her mouth to his. He cupped the back of her head and took everything—demanded everything—and didn’t let her go until they were both panting. Once his breathing leveled off, he heard the whistles and catcalls over the soundtrack of falling rain and truck engines. He blocked them out and focused on the woman in his arms. “I know my timing could use a little work, but I’ll take that as a yes.”
She nodded. “Yes, I trust you. And yes, I want to settle down with the man I love.” Her arms tightened around his waist, and she gave him a hard hug. “As for your timing, I’d say it’s perfect.”
Pride and relief washed through him, as tangible as the rain. “In that case, I’ve got one more question for you.” He eased back and dug in his pocket. “Think you can turn this into a wedding ring?” He opened his hand to offer her the infinity symbol she’d made him for his eighteenth birthday.
She reached for it and then drew back when the platinum caught the light. “Oh my God.” Shock sucked the strength from her voice, leaving only a whisper. “You still have it.”
He shifted the artfully twisted wire so he held it between his thumb and forefinger. “The leather wore away a long time ago, but this”—he traced her lip with the precious metal—“this lasted. When you gave it to me, you promised me forever. I’m holding you to it.”
This time there was no mistaking the tears in her eyes, but she smiled and took the symbol. A single, dark brow shot up. “What’s your timeline?”
“Expedited,” he answered and lowered his mouth to hers. “I’ve waited a decade already. I don’t want to wait anymore. The rest of our forever starts now.”
Epilogue
“Aw, baby, don’t put your mouth on that,” Shane heard his brother-in-law, Beau, warn. “You don’t know where it’s been.”
He stepped through the tall glass doors that led from the back deck of the barn to the dining room in time to see his six-month-old daughter, April, bestow a wet mess of a kiss on Hunter Knox. The toddler in Hunter’s other arm—his adopted daughter, Joy—giggled at the baby’s sloppy affection and followed suit, depositing a smacking kiss on her father’s cheek.
“That’s right, girls. Ignore Uncle Beau.” Hunter jiggled both kids and aimed a lazy grin at his friend. “He’s just jealous ’cause you like me best.” Then the blond man’s nose wrinkled. He sniffed one girl, then the other. His grin turned conspiratorial and switched to Shane. “Hey, Uncle Beau, April’s got a present for you.”
Beau paused on his way to the fridge, snagged a diaper out of the bag on the table and winged it at Hunter like a Frisbee. “Man up, Uncle Hunter. You’re her favorite.”
Hunter turned to shield himself from the padded missile. It bounced off his back and landed on the floor. “Huh? What’s that, baby?” He held the infant higher in his arm, as if she whispered in his ear, and winked at Joy. “Nope, she definitely said, ‘Uncle Beau, this one’s for you.’”
Beau took a beer from the fridge and turned, but whatever reply he’d been about to offer got cut off by an enthusiastic, “Doooooown!” He had just enough time to place his beer on the table and catch his towheaded son, Ryder, before the turbo-powered ten-month-old jumped from the high chair. “Sorry, April, I’m busy keeping Savannah, Jr. out of a body cast.”
“Nice catch,” Shane joked as he passed Beau and headed toward Hunter. “I’ll take her.”
Hunter handed her over, but picked up the diaper on the floor and tossed it at Beau’s head. “Multitask, motherfucker. We’re supposed to be handling things, so this hard-up fool can set the scene out back and get himself laid for the first time in six months.”
April cooed at Shane as he set her down on the changing mat lying on the floor in the living area. He smiled and touched his nose to her tiny one. “The scene is set, and we don’t say the f-word in front of the kids, do we? No, we don’t.”
From behind him, Joy clapped her hands. “No fofo!”
“Shhh!” Hunter whispered and snuggled her.
Shane wasn’t so easily silenced. “That’s exactly right, Joy.” With practiced skill, he changed the dirty diaper then bundled it up and lobbed it at Hunter.
Anticipating retaliation, the limber motherfucker ducked out of the way. “Missed me, bitch.”
Shane shook his head and addressed his daughter. “We don’t say the b-word, either. Also, for Uncle Hunter’s information, it hasn’t been six months since I’ve gotten laid.” He turned back to April and lifted her into the air, so her little legs bicycled. “It’s been six months since I’ve gotten laid without knowing one of us had to keep an ear out for you. Yes, we do, beautiful.” He lowered her until their noses touched again. “We keep one ear tuned to you.” She smiled and grabbed his hair, while he got to his feet. “But tonight, we’re going to let Grandma and Grandpa do the honors. Aren’t we?” He hoped so. If she refused to cooperate, he’d wasted his time putting an infant car seat in Grandma’s car and setting a romantic scene in the backyard while Sinclair, Savannah, their mother, and Hunter’s wife, Madison, took a day in Norcross to celebrate Savannah allowing Beau to impregnate her again.
“She’ll be fine,” Beau assured him as he held a small hand in each of his and slowly lowered his son to the floor. Ryder danced his bare feet over the sanded and polished planks. “Grandma and Grandpa survived a whole weekend with this one, and, unlike him, April’s not actively trying to kill herself every two seconds. She’ll be a walk in the park for them.”
“Speaking of walks,” Hunter nodded toward Ryder. “Little man’s raring to go.” Joy wriggled in her daddy’s arms. “Okay, okay.” He knelt and put her down. “Go on. Show him how it’s done.”
Joy scampered over to Ryder, eager to show off the walking skills she’d mastered during her vastly more experienced eighteen months of living. She stopped about a half foot away and held out her arms to the baby. “C’mere, Ry-Ry.”
Ryder looked up at his dad. Beau shook his head. “Don’t do it, cowboy. Your mother will skin me alive if she misses your first steps.” But apparently, he was willing to risk a skinning, because he opened his hands so only Ryder’s grip on his index fingers connected the two.
“I’ve got you covered.” Hunter pulled his phone from his pocket and framed up the shot. “Aaand…we’re rolling. Go on, Ry-Ry. Get her. Joy, honey, don’t crowd him. Give him some room.”
They all watched chubby hands slowly open. Beau straightened when Ryder let go of his fingers. The little guy balanced for a moment, looked around, and let out a hoot just to make sure he had everyone’s attention. Shane mentally moved baby gates up on his home project list. Thankfully, Sinclair’s spiral staircase had been repurposed and now connected the master bedroom to a roof deck, but the wide, wood-and-iron central stairway they’d installed when they’d redesigned the barn wasn’t exactly baby safe.
Hunter started a drumroll. Ryder took a step
toward Joy, staggered like a drunk for one ungainly second, and then toppled forward, taking his spotter down in the process.
“Uh-ohhh! Wipeout,” Hunter called in an attempt to distract the kids from their tumble.
It didn’t work. Ryder sucked in a breath and let loose an indignant holler. Joy immediately followed suit. Beau and Hunter hurried over.
Upset by the commotion, April joined in with an impressive wail. Shane bounced her in his arms. “Hey, now. What are you fussing for? You’re just fine.”
Over the din of three bawling infants, Shane heard the front door slide open. Perfect timing. The womenfolk were back, just when all hell broke loose. His well-crafted plans crumbled before his eyes. So much for a quick-and-painless handoff to Grandma before ushering everyone out and turning his attention to a slow and thorough seduction of his wife. “Whose boneheaded idea was it to set the kids up like dominoes?”
“Hunter’s,” Beau answered and pasted a smile on his face as the ladies walked in. Pretty, blond Madison appeared first, followed by Savannah, her mom, and Sinclair.
“Goodness.” Madison quickened her pace. “What happened?” She was already shrugging her purse off her shoulder and preparing to take Joy.
“Everything’s under control,” Beau assured her.
Savannah came to her husband’s side and inspected her red-faced son before giving Beau a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Clearly, you guys have things under control.”
“We do,” Shane insisted, tipping his head toward Beau as Sinclair closed in on him. “This is Hunter’s fault.”
“Honey, don’t believe them. I’ve got a video that proves different.”
Madison cuddled her daughter, glanced through the glass doors to the backyard, and then shot a look at Shane. Her lips curved as she turned to Hunter. “Show me later, ’kay? We’ve got to get going, or we’ll be late for the…thing.”
He’d always liked Madison. Even more so when everyone sprang into motion at her comment and started gathering up kids and gear.
Emergency Attraction (Love Emergency) Page 20