Love Reclaimed: (Clean Small-Town Romance) (Kings Grove Book 4)

by Delancey Stewart

  An unexpected relief washed through me and I felt my resolve loosen at her persistent presence. But behind it was fear. If I got used to this, she would still be leaving in six months.

  She moved in closer to my side, pressing herself against me, encouraging me.

  “God, I just…” I looked at her, unable to find words to explain anything.

  Her eyes met mine and I reached into the amber depths, finding understanding there. “Cam,” she said softly. “That sounds exhausting. And lonely.”

  I held her close, listening to the matched beats of our hearts. After a minute another noise interrupted the peace I’d found.

  Someone was knocking loudly on the front door. The dog in the front room barked, a surprisingly ferocious sound, considering how exhausted I knew she was.

  “We’re not done with this,” Harper promised, hopping out of bed and pulling her clothes on in a hurry. My own clothes were still in the front room, so I retrieved some new jeans from the drawer and pulled on a green T-shirt before going to the front door.

  “Dude.” It was Tuck, and now that I saw him standing there, I remembered that he said he’d be driving up. “This place is pretty awesome.”

  “Hey man,” I said, and reached out a hand to shake. Tuck ignored it and pulled me into a hug, slapping my back.

  “You look like shit, man,” he said, laughing.

  I suspected I probably looked a lot better now, after spending my morning with Harper, than I had in months. “Thanks. Come on in.”

  Harper had gone over to see the dogs, and she stood now, sunlight angling through the back windows and weaving a glow through her hair. She looked ethereal, and sexy as hell. “Hey,” she called out, friendly as ever.

  “Hey now,” Tuck said, drawing himself up taller and sauntering over to where she stood, his Australian accent suddenly more pronounced.

  An ugly feeling of possession rose in me and I pushed it away. “Harper, this is an old friend. Tuck.” I waved a hand at Harper, stepping nearer. “This is Harper Lyles. She’s renting the big house down the driveway, and she’s the one making the movie we need help with.”

  “Sounds like we’ll be working together, Harper,” Tuck said, his trademark charm already oozing out of him.

  I watched as Harper shook his hand, his big square frame making her look tiny in comparison. Tuck was the brawny surfer type, longish blond hair, blue eyes and dimples in a square jaw. He looked like a rugged Ken doll, and I’d never seen a woman who didn’t brighten under his gaze. Harper, unfortunately, was no exception.

  “Look at these little guys,” Tuck said, dropping to his knees near the dogs. “Brand new, yeah?” He didn’t touch the dogs, which was probably wise, given the way the mother dog’s lips were curled back from her teeth as she lifted her head and turned toward him, a low growl coming from somewhere deep inside her.

  “Stray,” I said. “Won’t let me close either, but she likes Harper.”

  Tuck let out a chuckle. “Of course she does,” he said, and jealousy rose inside me at his tone. I stuffed it down. Tuck had been a good friend for a long time, and Harper had confirmed her interest in me just moments before. Still, I felt a prick of worry as I looked between them, but quickly swallowed it. No matter how much I might want Harper, nothing serious could evolve between us. There was no call for me to be jealous.

  “She got a name?” Tuck asked, looking over his shoulder at me.

  “Not yet. Feels weird naming a dog that isn’t mine,” I said.

  “It’s weird calling her ‘hey,’ too,” Tuck chuckled.

  “We can’t think of anything that fits,” Harper said, kneeling next to Tuck and laying a hand on the dog’s head.

  “She’s an Aussie,” Tuck said, his voice full of laughter and warmth. “So I should probably name her. As a countryman, and all.”

  Harper turned and raised an eyebrow at me, and I waved an arm toward the dog to tell Tuck to go right ahead.

  “Let’s see,” he said, looking her over. “Got it. Matilda,” he said, standing and brushing his hands together to indicate the decision had been made.

  Harper laughed. “Perfect!”

  “Tell me about the film,” Tuck said, directing his words at Harper. She wandered over to the couch and looked up at me, her gaze inviting me to sit with her.

  “First of all,” I said. “I don’t think you could refer to it as a ‘film’ — it’s a promo shoot for a hotel, basically.” I swept up my clothes and dumped them into a pile behind the couch, glad Tuck didn’t seem to notice. He folded his big frame into the chair next to the couch as I sat with Harper.

  “And a super-romantic wedding movie,” Harper trilled. “So two movies, really.”

  “Okay,” Tuck said, laughing. I envied his good-natured ease in any situation. “Sounds like fun.”

  We discussed the movie and the wedding for a little while, and finally Tuck said, “Great. So I’ll be here for a while. Where do I sleep?”

  I didn’t want to answer because I knew what answer made the most sense. And while I would’ve been fine with this idea a week ago, even maybe twenty-four hours ago, I wasn’t happy about it now. Still, I knew Harper hated being in the big house alone, and I didn’t have room here for Tuck. There was a second bedroom but it’d be a tight squeeze and I was used to being on my own.

  “Here?” I tried, knowing it wasn’t the right answer.

  “Or,” Harper said, her eyes on my face as if she could read my every thought, “there’s a lot of room in the other house. The one I’m renting.”

  “I’d pay part of the rent,” Tuck said quickly.

  “Landlord’s kind of a jerk,” she said, elbowing me and laughing. “We’d have to okay it with him.”

  Tuck looked between us, understanding dawning. “You own this place, man? And that house too?”

  I shrugged.

  “So is that cool?” His eyebrows went up then and he looked between me and Harper for a few seconds. “Oh. Unless…”

  “It’s fine,” I said, and then immediately wished I hadn’t spoken so soon. Tuck had been considering whether there might be something between Harper and me, and my too-quick response had probably reassured him there was not. I was already envisioning them up there together, playing cards and laughing late into the night. My stomach turned over.

  But maybe it was best this way.

  “Great,” Tuck said. “I’ll grab my bags. Harper, give me the tour?”

  I watched as they walked out the front door. Harper turned back and grabbed my hand before following Tuck down the stairs. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  Chapter 12

  HARPER

  I felt like the world was spinning more quickly than I could handle as I followed this big blond Australian guy up the stairs and into the giant house that had become my home in Kings Grove. He had an easy way about him, walked like he fit in wherever he went. Based on his good looks and flirtatious nature, I had a feeling he probably did.

  “Home sweet home, eh?” he said, swinging the door open and standing back so I could enter first.

  “Home huge home is more like it.”

  “Bigger is better, right?” he grinned.

  I stopped in front of him and looked him in the eye. “Depends what you’re talking about.”

  “Course it does.” He closed the door and whistled long and low as he slowly walked through the open living space, looking around him. “You sure you want to share? This is pretty nice.”

  “It’s not a one-person house,” I said. “You can have the master.”

  “Where are you sleeping?”

  “I like smaller spaces,” I said, leaving it at that.

  He raised an eyebrow at me and then smiled. “So bigger isn’t always better. Fair enough,” he said.

  Tuck moved right in, bringing in a couple loads of clothes from the green Jeep he’d left outside next to my car. On his third load into the house, arms draped with piles of clothes and his hands curled around a razor an
d a toothbrush, I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips.

  “What?” He stopped, arms overflowing, at the foot of the stairs.

  “Ever hear of a suitcase? Or a duffle bag?”

  He grinned at me again and then mounted the stairs, two at a time, and disappeared into the master bedroom. He came back out a few minutes later and joined me in the kitchen. “I’m a free form kind of guy,” he said. He pulled open the refrigerator and peered in. “Guess I’d better make a grocery trip. Care to join me? Since I have no idea whatsoever where a person buys groceries around here.”

  Part of me wanted to say no, to spend a few minutes on my own, to think about everything that had happened between me and Cam just hours before. It seemed a little bit like a dream, like something I’d imagined because it was so far fetched. Cam wasn’t the kind of guy who let you know where you stood—the ground around him felt soft and shifty, and though I’d spent a wonderful morning in his arms, in his bed, I still wasn’t sure what to think about any of it. I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to swing by with flowers later today or text me a reassuring message. I had a feeling it was just as likely that his plan was probably to act like nothing had happened.

  And I wasn’t sure I could handle that. I wasn’t a drama queen, but I also believed people should feel their feelings, that when we don’t, they tend to carve out space inside us and make us hollow. I couldn’t tell Cam how to live or how to feel, but I could definitely tell him how I felt.

  I just had to figure out how that was.

  In the meantime, I agreed to go to the grocery store with Tuck to restock our kitchen.

  “My car or yours?” he asked as we stepped back out the door into the clear Kings Grove day. The sound of water could be heard in the distance and a bird called overhead somewhere.

  “I’ll drive.”

  Tuck grinned at me, and I was reminded of a Golden Retriever I’d known once as a kid. Happy to be with people, happy to be included, just generally happy. I was sure Tuck was probably a little more complicated than he seemed, but I’d had plenty of complicated men for the moment, and it was easy to be in Tuck’s unassuming presence.

  “One sec,” I told him, and I jogged the few feet back down to Cam’s. He answered the door as soon as I knocked, and part of me wondered if he’d been expecting the knock, maybe looking out the window, watching us.

  “Hey,” he said, looking sheepish and essentially confirming my suspicion.

  “Hey,” I said back. “We’re going to make a grocery run. Need anything or want to come with?”

  He looked at me a long moment before answering, and then the big hand wrapped the back of his neck again—Cam’s thinking pose. “Nah,” he said. “Thanks, though.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Be back soon.” I jogged back to the car, feeling Cam’s eyes on my back. But when I climbed back into the car and looked, his door was closed again. That was Cam—a closed door.

  The little Kings Grove Market was set on the opposite side of the parking lot from the diner and ranger station, separated from the post office by the hardware store. I glanced around for my father’s car, but then remembered it was Sunday, and let my breathing relax a bit.

  That was my first mistake.

  “Harper!” Dad’s voice came across the wide lot, and I looked up from pulling my bag from the car to see him striding across the expanse toward me.

  I sighed and greeted him as he reached us. Tuck stood at my side so I introduced him.

  “Hi, well,” Dad stumbled, clearly nervous. “It’s good to see you. Both of you, I mean. I just…Harper, I wondered if maybe you, or we, I mean, could have dinner.”

  I winced. “Dad, I’m pretty busy. I’ve got work tomorrow…”

  I could feel Tuck looking between us, probably wondering what made for such an awkward encounter between family members.

  “It’s just not a convenient time. Tuck just got here, we’re going to need to get him set up and talk about the movie he’s shooting for the Inn…” I was rambling, reaching for excuses.

  “Another time then,” Dad said, looking momentarily defeated but replacing the hurt look with a smile quickly. “Tuck, welcome to Kings Grove. I look forward to knowing you better.”

  “Likewise,” Tuck answered, and the two of us went into the grocery store, leaving Dad on the sidewalk out front.

  Tuck was easy enough to get along with, and if nothing else, having him around distracted from both the loneliness of the big house and the uncertainty and misplaced longing I felt when I thought about everything that had happened with Cam. Tuck was solid and certain, almost in your face with his vivaciousness. He was a complete contrast to the brooding dark haired man just behind us, and that particular man didn’t show himself again all day as I helped Tuck acclimate to the strange small town of Kings Grove. I’d gone down to ask him to join us for dinner, but no answer had come except Matilda’s barking from inside. I guessed he had gone for a hike—he did that a lot.

  “Have you been to these mountains before?” I asked Tuck as we shucked corn and chopped vegetables for dinner.

  He shrugged and shot me a blue eyed glance over a wide smile. “Been to Yosemite.”

  “Of course. Sequoia’s spotlight-hogging sister.”

  “Seemed nice up there.”

  I laughed, surprised at the way my Kings Grove loyalty had flared to life though I’d been back only a short time. “It is. And honestly, it’s better that people go up there. Keeps the roads here clear of tourists and the trails and public areas cleaner.”

  “They’ve got the big trees too.”

  I dropped a piece of corn on the cutting board and grabbed another. “A few groves. No place in the world has them like we do here.”

  “Seen one big tree, you’ve seen ‘em all, right?”

  My hands stilled. “No,” I said, looking up at him. “I don’t think so, actually.”

  He chuckled and then went back to slicing tomatoes, the smile never leaving his face. “Why not?”

  I found the feathery top of a new piece of corn and yanked the outer coverings down as I thought about why I’d had such a knee-jerk reaction to his statement. “I guess I just feel like each one, or each grove at least, is different. Like when you walk into a grove, there’s a certain atmosphere that surrounds you, and no two are the same. And the ones where people go most often? Those are the ones that feel least sacred.”

  “So the ones in Yosemite are like those Elvis chapels in Vegas basically?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And the ones up here are more like the Sistine Chapel?”

  I thought about that. “No, I don’t think so.” A memory flashed through my head from when I’d been small, hiking with my dad. “There are hidden groves up here—huge trees that no one found until recently, that stood there in their own shadows for centuries before they were discovered… and those groves feel like…” I squinted trying to find an analogy. “Like a stone circle, like Stonehenge or something.”

  “Ancient, mysterious,” Tuck helped.

  “Exactly.”

  We finished making dinner, and I couldn’t help glancing out the window now and then as we did, looking for Cam. But his house was dark and he didn’t appear. I wondered what he was thinking, if he was twisting what happened between us into something bad to fit his narrative of the doomed man. I hoped not. As Tuck and I sat, I decided to ask him a question.

  “So you knew Cam before he got married, didn’t you?’

  Tuck grinned. “I did. We used to get into a lot of trouble together before he went and fell head over heels in love. Jess was a great girl, though.” He took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Which isn’t to say you’re not, of course.”

  I laughed. “I don’t mind hearing about Jess.”

  “But you are into my buddy over there, yeah?”

  Did I want to confirm that for Tuck? Would it be wrong to allow him to think there was something going on between Cam and me? There was, of course, but Cam’s
quiet nature made me wonder if I was violating his privacy in some way to talk about it. And I wondered too, if Cam thought there was something going on, or if he believed what had happened had been a one time thing. I hoped not. “I am,” I said slowly.

  “And he’d be crazy not to go for you, if you don’t mind my saying so.” It could have been weird to hear that from a man who was going to be my roommate for the foreseeable future, but Tuck’s manner was so laid back, it wasn’t.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’m not sure where he’s coming from on the whole thing, though. He’s got a lot going on in his head, I think.”

  “Makes sense, right?” Tuck lifted his fork, pointing it at me as he spoke. “Can’t be an easy thing, getting past a death like that.”

  “He thinks he’s doomed.” I took a sip of water and Tuck’s eyebrows lowered.

  “What?”

  “That anyone he cares about will die.”

  “Ridiculous. I feel fantastic and Cam adores me.” He puffed his chest out and put on a self-important attitude.

  “He’s never mentioned you until a day or two ago.”

  Tuck dropped the act and laughed. “All the same, I think we’re both safe from the Turner curse. We’ve gotta get the guy out of his own head.”

  “Easier said than done.” I pushed my plate away, my feelings a mix of excitement over what had happened between Cam and me, and worry that he was going to pretend it was nothing.

  “Leave it to me,” he said. “You can just sit back and relax. I’ll take care of Cam.”

  His calm attitude and easygoing smile were contagious, and I thought my yoga teacher would have approved of this influence on my usually frenetic world. “I’ll try,” I said, taking a deep breath.

  Work was busy Monday, and it felt like time accelerated from there. Mornings were a bustle around the kitchen, Tuck and I both eating breakfast and slurping down coffee before we each stepped out the door. He’d proved himself a very easy roommate, and his presence filled the spaces in the house, calming me and making it easier for me to sleep and relax.