Walking Among the Cherry Trees: The Cook Brothers Series
Page 1
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Walking Among the Cherry Trees Playlist
Other Works by H. D’Agostino
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Walking Among the Cherry Trees (The Cook Brothers #1)
H. D’Agostino
Copyright © November 2015 by Heather D’Agostino
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
The following story contains mature themes, profanity, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
Cover design and formatting by Cassy Roop @ Pink Ink Designs
Photography by Kelsey Keeton of K Keeton Designs
Cover Models: Dustin Adams and Laura Deal
Editing by Rebecca Cartee @Editing by Rebecca
ISBN: 978-1517157753 (Paperback)
AS I STARED AT the ceiling, sweat beading on my forehead, my hair in disarray, all I could think about was getting him out of here. “You can go now,” I cleared my throat and refused to look in his direction.
“You’re kidding, right?” his gruff voice sounded beside me.
“No, I’m not. I told you this was only for fun, no strings. I’m not looking for a relationship,” I pushed myself up to a sitting position, and wrapped the sheet around my middle. I sat there for moment, just staring out the wall of windows at the bright city lights. New York was a sight to behold when it was alive at night.
“You really are just like everyone says,” Joe, or Jon, or whatever his name was, mumbled as he shifted on the bed. “I didn’t think you would be, but they’re right.”
“They don’t know anything about me, neither do you. Please leave,” I stood, dropped the sheet, and walked proudly into the bathroom. I had no intention of keeping him around. I didn’t keep any of them around.
I’d lost the desire to be loved long ago. Love only weakens you. My dad taught me that. If I wanted to be successful, I needed to put myself first. I, like anyone else, had needs though, and those needs had to be taken care of. As CEO of McGregor Enterprises, I had my pick. Men threw themselves at me, and when they found out who I was, they tried even harder— wanting to be the one to change me.
Growing up as an only child with absentee parents had hardened my outlook on life. I’d once dreamed of happily ever after and meeting the perfect guy. At one time, I thought I had, but when my world fell apart, and he left me to pick up the pieces, I vowed never to let it happen again.
Now, I have a strict policy. Men can come home, but under no circumstances are they ever allowed to stay the night. Most are fine with that, but this guy doesn’t seem to be getting the message.
“You know, baby,” his voice was grinding on my last nerve. “I’m sure we could top that last one.”
I spun on him instead of climbing into the shower and glared. “What part of leave is hard for you to grasp?”
His mouth formed a sly smile; he was sure he could convince me to change my mind. He was attractive, don’t get me wrong. The blond hair that hung messily over his forehead, the piercing brown eyes that twinkled with mischief, he was the entire package for someone, just not me.
I walked toward him, pressing on his chest to get him out of the bathroom before slipping on a coy smile. “So you think I should keep you around, huh?”
“I do,” he nodded as he slowly stepped backward, not paying attention to the fact that I was leading him toward the door. “I think you and I should at least give it til morning. I think I could change your mind.”
“Well,” I reached around him and twisted the knob. “I hate to break it to you, but they all say that.” I shoved his chest once more, causing him to stumble into the hallway in only his boxer briefs. “Have a good night.” I waved my fingers at him before shutting the door and clicking the lock.
“You bitch!” he yelled as he pounded on the door. “You can’t leave me out here like this!” His voice carried through the door, and I knew right then that I’d be hiring someone to take his place tomorrow. I usually had a policy about fucking employees, but this guy worked in the mail room.
“Good night,” I called again, turning back toward the bathroom to resume my shower.
As the hot water poured down on me, I tried to relax and let the grime from the day wash down the drain. The eighteen-hour days and no vacations were starting to wear on my nerves. My father had always seemed so unhappy, and after taking over for him, I now understood why.
My mother left when I was nine. My father, Benjamin McGregor, had failed as a husband. He spent more time with his company than with his family. He’d never really taken an interest in me until I was in junior high school. When I began to stand out as a star pupil at St. Mary’s Academy, he took notice. My teachers said I had talent in the arts and would go far. My father’s keen eye for business, and my art back ground were the perfect tools for him to mold me into his successor— CEO of one of New York’s biggest advertising agencies. He started when I was twelve, and the older I got the harder he pushed.
By the time I was sixteen, he had complete control over me. He decided who my friends were, what I did for fun, how long I studied, even where I would attend college. He had every aspect of my life planned except the summers. Summers were spent with my grandmother Virginia. Virginia was my mother’s mother and the only connection I had to that part of the family. My own mother didn’t have a relationship with them, but I craved one.
Virginia lived in Cherryville, a small rural town in Upstate New York. It was a getaway of sorts for me. A place I could go to escape the hustle and bustle of city life and feel truly loved. My father loved me, don’t get me wrong, but my grandmother adored me. She treated me like a child, not a protégé. She helped me realized things about myself that I’d never known I wanted. Love, friendship, and a need for freedom. I relished those summers and counted the days in between visits. Nothing was better than the feeling inside me when she picked me up at the train station each June.
The older I got, the more exciting the summers became. Things that I didn’t get to do in the city, like go off on my own, were perfectly ok there. She trusted me. The one thing I lacked was friends. Cherryville was mostly vacationers. The people that graced the streets and parks changed from year to year. Sometimes I’d befriend someone only to find out that they weren’t coming back the next year.
I found solace, away from my father, among the cherry trees that filled the orchard behind my grandmother’s house. She didn’t own the land, but the family that did didn’t mind us wandering through them. We’d take daily walks, discussing what my father had planned for me in the fall when I’d return to
him. Virginia gave me hope that one day I’d break the cycle and pull away. She had told me that my mother just couldn’t take my father’s control anymore. She’d been a free spirit, and my father had smothered her, just like he was trying to do to me.
Now I look back and realize that those cherry trees were my escape. They saw more than the walks with my grandmother. They saw the real me. They watched me fall in love with a boy that still holds my heart. He’d hardened me into the person I’ve become. They saw me grieve for the one person I was willing to do anything for, and now as I think about the phone call I’d received earlier in the day, I know they’re awaiting my return.
When I stepped out of the shower, free from the smell of sex, I wrapped a towel around myself, shuffled to the door, and checked to see if my evening romp had left. Seeing no sign of him, I tore the sheets from the guest bed before slipping into a silk gown, and returning to the master suite. The maid would be by in the morning, and could take care of the sheets.
I climbed into bed, and after I turned off the light, I laid there staring at the ceiling in the dark, the voice I’d heard over the phone playing through my mind. Miss McGregor. I’m Arthur Dewy, your grandmother’s attorney. I’m calling to inform you that I have some papers I need you to sign concerning her estate. She’s left you the house. I remember sitting at my desk and feeling the phone start to slip from my hand before I found my voice. Miss? Finally, I responded, I’m still not sure how, that I would be there at the end of the week.
Now, I wasn’t sure it was even a good idea. Could I go back? I hadn’t set foot in that house in ten years. Could I handle the memories it would bring? What if the mere sights and smells caused my hardened shell to crack? Virginia was gone now, and I wouldn’t have anyone there to hold me together. I couldn’t call my father; he would tell me to sell the place and not even bother going back. He didn’t attach himself to anything. According to him, love was a weakness. How would I survive walking among the cherry trees once again? Would they know it was me? Would they still feel my pain? Would he be there?
I fell in love in Cherryville. It was slow, beautiful, and all encompassing. I learned more about myself in the summers with Virginia than in a lifetime with my father. It started that first summer after she found me, when I was twelve years old, and lasted until my eighteenth birthday. I’ve shoved it away in a small compartment deep in the back of my mind, and I only hope when I step off the train this weekend, I can keep it from rushing to the surface and swallowing me whole.
WHEN FRIDAY CAME, I gathered my laptop and let my assistant Marjorie know I’d be out of the office for the next ten days. I could work from home; I’d done it before. Things weren’t as easy, but there were fewer interruptions.
“I called for a car for you, Miss McGregor. It’ll pick you up at home at noon just as you asked. I’ve also made sure one will be at the station to take you wherever you need to go while you’re away,” she smiled as she studied me from the doorway of my office.
“Thanks, Marjorie,” I nodded as I slipped my jacket on and scanned my desk one last time, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. “Cell service is fairly spotty where I’m going, so I’ll call and check in from a landline once I’m settled. If you need anything and can’t reach me, you can call David. He’s well informed on the accounts that need attention.”
“Yes Ma’am,” she nodded once more before smiling and disappearing out to her own desk.
I glanced around before lifting everything in my arms, and making my way out to my car. I had everything packed at home. I just needed to make sure that I wasn’t forgetting anything here.
THE NEXT MORNING, after grabbing a quick breakfast, I made my way down to the lobby suitcase in tow. Right outside was a gentleman standing beside a dark town car. With his arms crossed over his chest, his suitcoat pulled tight across his shoulders. I couldn’t help but appraise him as I pulled my rolling bag along behind me. It was chilly for spring, so I’d dressed in a white pea coat that hung down around my thighs. I’d pulled my blonde hair back in a sleek ponytail and slipped my Gucci shades on to cover the dark circles under my eyes.
“Miss,” he nodded his head as he smiled at me. “I’ll take your bag,” he grabbed the handle on my suitcase, and began rolling it toward the trunk after opening my door for me to climb in. The car had that new scent and was impeccably clean.
Once he’d secured my bag, he climbed behind the wheel, and maneuvered us into traffic. It wasn’t bad for a Friday, but I figured it would be busy at the station. Weekend commuters would be heading home, and with warmer weather, vacationers would soon be joining the crowds.
“So where are you headed to this fine day?” he glanced at me in the mirror and grinned.
“Family business,” I murmured. “Grandmother died.”
“So sorry to hear that,” his shoulders slumped, and he didn’t say anything else.
“Kinda ruins your chance to hit on me now, huh?” I crossed my legs as I stared at the back of his head.
“The way I see it, you were staring at me,” his chin jutted out, and his jaw flexed.
“I was not.” I knew I was being defensive; I had been checking him out, but it wasn’t an invitation. He looked good. End of story.
It didn’t take us long to get to our destination, and once we did, there was little talking exchanged. The driver removed my bag and helped me from the car. After making sure I checked in and was given a ticket, he returned to the car. The trains were running on time, and I as I looked around at all the passengers, I couldn’t help but remember the last time I’d been here.
“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” I chanted to myself from the backseat of my dad’s car. His secretary was driving me to the train station. Of course, he couldn’t bring me, he was always too busy, but I didn’t care. My dad was the last thing on my mind. I was going back to see HIM, Taylor Cook, the hottest, sweetest boy I knew. He’d finally kissed me at the end of last summer, and I couldn’t wait to spend the summer with him among the cherry trees. Now that I was eighteen, my grandmother was sure to let me spend more time with him. I only hoped that he wanted to.
I shook my head as I tried to force the memory back into its place. I’d kept so much hidden inside myself over the years since that summer. I didn’t even know if Taylor still lived in Cherryville. He’d always dreamed of moving on to bigger and better things, and after everything that happened, I wasn’t sure if he’d stuck around.
My past was a painful one, and Taylor was a part of that, and if he was anything like I was ,he’d have run as far and as fast as possible. Pain wasn’t something I dealt with well, and going back was going to tear me apart. I was sure of it.
AFTER I BOARDED my train, I took my seat, made myself comfortable, and fired up my laptop. I used my cell phone as a Wi-Fi hotspot, and logged into my email. My inbox was already overflowing with messages, and as I clicked through them one by one, the past slowly began to creep back from its hiding spot in my mind. I’d never really thought about it until now, but I’m sure that’s how my father did it. He didn’t grieve my mother leaving because work filled the void. He didn’t have the time or energy to feel pain and sadness.
I’m sure the scenery outside was beautiful, but my computer screen saw more of my attention than anything else, and as the train zoomed along the tracks, I soon lost myself in my work. The cityscape became countryside, buildings were exchanged with trees, and parking lots became fields. Before I knew it, the sun was beginning to set, and the Cherryville station slowly appeared in the distance.
Once we came to a complete stop, passengers slowly stood and stretched out the kinks in their stiff bodies. Children were anxious to get off the train, and parents were trying to keep up. Business men and women were gathering their things, and passengers were slowly emerging from the sliver car. I stood in awe at the families uniting on the platform. Parents hugging children home from college. Wives welcoming husbands home from a business trip. Children squealing as they launc
hed themselves into a parent’s arms. It was a forgotten feeling, but not foreign.
I used to be one of those kids when I met Virginia here each year. She’d be sitting on one the benches, smiling as I ambled toward her after making my way inside. The younger I was, the faster that amble would be, but it was always with excitement. I didn’t feel that anymore, and the more I thought about it, the more it hurt. I couldn’t let it hurt though. I had enough demons to fight just by coming back here. I didn’t need to add to my worries.
I lifted my briefcase in my hand as I did a quick search of the platform. I needed to get my luggage, but I also wanted to make sure that he wasn’t here. Taylor didn’t know I was coming, but I had no way of knowing if he’d be here by chance. “Miss?” a young man touched my elbow, startling me. “Do you need any help?” he motioned toward the unloading baggage and waited patiently for an answer.
“No thank you,” I smiled, not knowing what else to do. I quickly grabbed the handle of my bag and rushed out of the station toward the area where my car would pick me up. When I reached the inside of the terminal, a man dressed in a suit much like the one who had dropped me off in the city, was standing with a sign that read McGregor on the front. I released a deep breath as I made my way over to him. He grabbed the handle of my bag and started to take it from me. I didn’t have the energy or the time to argue with him, so I let him. I’d never had anyone do this for me in Cherryville before. My grandmother always made me pull my own weight as she called it. She had scowled at me the first time I’d asked for help. Now, letting people do menial tasks for me came as second nature. My dad never did things for himself, and whenever I’d return from a visit with Virginia, he’d scowl at me if I tried to help the help as he called it.
“Thank you,” I murmured as I tapped away on my cell while we made our way to the car.
A sleek black Mercedes was idling next to the curb. The driver helped me in, before loading my luggage, and getting in. “Here’s my card, miss,” he reached back over the front seat and handed me a business card. “My number is on the back. If you need me anytime, you just call that number, and I’ll come get you.” He started to pull away from the curb as I placed the card in my purse. “You have me booked for the next ten days. I’m all yours,” he grinned like he’d told a funny joke before making his way out of town and toward Virginia’s house.