by Jill Sanders
Several years later, he married his high school sweetheart and had two daughters, Clara and Gina. When Clara was seven, her mother died from a mysterious illness. Carlo remained single for a few years, but shortly after Clara’s tenth birthday, he remarried the girl’s nanny, Rebecca.
There were news articles and pictures of Clara being taken into police custody in her blue party dress the evening of her sister’s murder. Confusion marred her face and when he found an image that he could zoom in on, he noticed her eyes were unfocused and red from tears. There was blood splattered all over her dress and her arms, which police confirm came from her sister. But, since she hadn’t had a scratch on her and there hadn’t been any solid evidence, Clara had never officially been charged.
Her father had stepped out of public view since his youngest daughter’s death, apparently trying to run his business from the privacy of his massive modern-looking home in the Hollywood Hills.
There were several articles on the home prominently featuring Carlo’s new wife, Rebecca. The woman seemed to love the spotlight that her newfound wealth afforded her.
When his vision started blurring, he crawled into his bed and clocked out for a few hours. When he woke, it was to the dogs barking with excitement. The sun was streaming through the lace window curtains, and he realized he’d gotten more than just a few hours of sleep.
Showering quickly, he dressed and headed downstairs. When he found Clara sitting at the countertop watching his grandfather cook French toast with the dogs happily lying at his feet, he relaxed.
He hadn’t really thought she would bail on him, but still, he’d worried.
“Morning,” he said, getting their attention.
“Morning,” they both said back to him.
Clara was smiling, as if she’d been enjoying the conversation.
“Your grandfather was telling me stories of you as a child.” She rotated the barstool towards him. “How you didn’t come here until you were seven…”
He nodded. “Yeah, I had no clue I even had a family, other than my mother, of course.”
“So your grandfather was telling me. It’s a fascinating story, how you and your father were kidnapped by the cult your biological grandfather ran.”
He swallowed hard, remembering the day so many years ago his father had risked everything to save him. “Yeah, Dad was shot as we escaped.” He smiled suddenly. “And later, my mom kicked my BG’s butt.” He sat next to her and leaned closer. “That’s what I call my biological grandfather, BG.”
“Gave him a killer right hook. Just like I taught her,” his father said from the doorway.
“Mom still says it was Aunt Cassey that taught her how to box,” he joked, causing his father to chuckle.
“I taught both of them,” he answered easily. “Dad, we’ve got those new bushes in already. When are the guys with the pine straw going to be here?”
“So quick?” His grandfather shook his head. “Not until noon. Why don’t you two come on in and have some breakfast. I made plenty.”
“Missy’s taking the dogs for a quick walk and will be back soon. I’m starving.” His dad sat on the other side of Clara. “Did you sleep well?” he asked her.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied. He could tell she had; the worry in her eyes had disappeared. Her dark hair was still wet from the shower, and she looked very cozy with her feet tucked under her in the chair.
For the first time since he’d met her, she looked relaxed. His family had a knack for making people feel comfortable. It was one of the reasons he loved them so much and why he’d brought her here instead of taking her back to her own family.
Chapter 7
After eating a stack of French toast and several slices of bacon, Reagan suggested a walk down to the pond that sat behind the house. His mother had returned from her walk, and both of the dogs tagged along as they made their way down a worn pathway to the water’s edge.
There was a small dock that hung over the calm water and had two large chairs at the end of it.
“Want to sit for a moment?” he asked her, motioning to the chairs.
“Sure.” She relaxed in the chair and could just imagine spending the rest of the day in the sun, watching the dragonflies buzz around the water.
“This place is… amazing.” She couldn’t come up with a description good enough to match the place.
“Thanks.” He glanced over at her. “Have you thought any further about… things?” he asked after a moment of silence passed between them.
Her entire body tensed once more as her mind jumped to all of the possibilities she’d come up with. All of the ones she’d admit to herself but keep from him.
“I have,” she answered. “I’m thinking I was a thief’s mark.” She could tell instantly that he didn’t agree with her assessment. “I’ve heard of that sort of thing happening to other people in popular tourist spots.”
“Usually to wealthy tourists.” His dark eyebrows rose. “You are neither.”
Her shoulders sank. “No, you’re right.”
“Any other ideas?”
“It could have been sexual,” she said in a tiny voice. She hated mentioning this idea, since she knew what it likely really was, but she couldn’t very well blurt that one out to him. Reagan didn’t know about her past.
“It could have been, but people don’t usually shoot at someone for sexual reasons,” he said as he looked out over the water.
She turned and watched a pair of ducks swimming towards them.
“Maybe it is someone from your past… you know, before you started moving around?” he suggested.
She bit her bottom lip, desperately wanting to share her history with him but afraid of how it would change his mind about her.
After all, it was a big turn off to find out that someone you had invited into your family’s home had been accused of murdering her own sister.
“No,” she lied as she avoided looking in his direction. “Like I said before, no one from my past is looking for me.”
The silence stretched on until he turned to her a few minutes later.
“Clara, I haven’t been completely honest with you.” Just then, both of the dogs barked happily and rushed off the dock, heading back towards the house.
They both turned around and saw his father walking towards them.
“Sorry to bother you two, but I was hoping to enlist my son in digging up a few bushes and moving them.”
Something told her that Reagan was thankful for the interruption.
“Sure.” He stood up and looked down at her. “You’re welcome to enjoy.” He nodded to the lake.
She thought about it and stood with him. “Actually, if it’s okay with you, I’d rather help.” Upon his look, she shrugged. “It’s been a while since I worked outside. I enjoy it.”
“Suit yourself.” He motioned for her to lead the way.
For the next hour, she dug in the dirt, planting flowers around the back porch, adding new rose bushes to around the firepit. They planted a few purple wisteria plants, some pink azaleas, and a live oak in the side yard.
It had been too long since she’d had her hands in the dirt. She lost herself in the simple pleasure and didn’t notice her back and arms hurting from the exhaustion.
They broke for lunch, and Reagan’s grandfather and mother brought out a tray full of turkey sandwiches and homemade French fry crisps.
After lunch, Reagan and his father pulled up some dead bushes along the garage. Both men had pulled off their shirts while they worked and were coated in sweat as they dug and chopped the old roots away from the foundation.
She noticed a small flower bed full of weeds and sat down in the grass to free the growing flowers from them. Again, she lost herself in the work and her own thoughts. She tried not to glance over at Reagan and watch him work with his shirt off, but he was so sexy that she found it hard not to enjoy the way the sun danced across his muscles.
She kept telling herself that he was ju
st being kind to her because it’s what he did. After all, his family had made a point to mention it. She’d hoped that he felt the same way about her as she did about him, but it was starting to look more and more like he didn’t.
“You’re pretty good at this sort of thing,” a deep voice said from above her. Glancing up, she tried to smile at Reagan.
“I used to work in the yard with my mother,” she said before really thinking. She’d been open and truthful with him and his family and hadn’t really seen any reason not to be, but there were some things she still wanted to keep to herself.
She watched his eyebrows go up. “Oh?” He frowned. “Used to?” he asked, sitting on the upturned bucket next to her.
“She died when I was seven.” She dusted off her hands.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly and touched her arm.
“I only remember a handful of things about her.” She leaned back on her heels and closed her eyes as memories played in her brain. “Working in the garden, playing in the water at the beach.” She smiled and opened her eyes and looked around. “But it’s the gardening I remember the most. It was our time. The beach was family time. I think Gina enjoyed the beach more.”
“Gina?” he asked, and she felt her heart sink. She’d said too much. Allowed her guard to go down. Fear spiked deep in her gut and she fought for her next words.
“My sister,” Clara finally answered.
He could see the inner battle as she fought to come up with the words.
“Something tells me she’s not with you anymore?” he asked, feeling dirty for already knowing the answer. He’d been ready to tell her everything at the lake. But now, he was questioning telling her. After all, he had to figure out how to convince her to go with him back to California when they were done here.
“She died a few years back.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, this time keeping his hands to himself. She’d relaxed back on the grass.
“What about your father?” he asked, hoping she would keep opening up to him. The more she talked, the surer he was of her innocence.
Her eyes moved up to his. “He’s alive still.” She shrugged. “He’s back in California with his new wife.”
The tone in her voice told him more than all the research had last night. “You don’t like her?” he asked.
She flipped a strand of her hair away from her eyes. “She’s okay. She was our nanny before…”
“Now she’s married to him,” he added as if he understood. “That must have been difficult.”
“No, not really. She was always nice to both of us. Even after they married, she was kind.”
“But…” He let the question hang in the air.
“It just wasn’t the same after. Dad wasn’t the same.” She leaned forward and pulled at another weed. “Then Gina died and… I moved away.”
“How about another walk?” he suggested, standing up. “We can cool off in the pond, if you want,” he added.
“I’ve never swum in a pond before.” She glanced around. “Aren’t there alligators in Florida?”
He chuckled. “Yes, but the little ones in the pond are about the size of my arm.” He watched fear jump into her eyes and laughed even harder. “Trust me, they’re more afraid of you than the other way around.
“I seriously doubt that,” she said, allowing him to pull her to her feet.
“You swim in the ocean… think of all the sharks in those waters. Besides, I’ll be right there, protecting you from the gators.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who’s going to protect you?”
He started walking towards the lake as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You can,” he joked.
He wasn’t surprised when the dogs followed them once more.
When they reached the dock, he pulled his shirt, jeans, and shoes off and rushed off the end of the dock, both dogs on his heels as they splashed into the cool water.
It was early enough in spring that the water hadn’t warmed up much yet. The chilly water instantly refreshed him.
“Come on in,” he said, laughing as the dogs swam in circles around him. “The water’s perfect.” She glanced around slowly. “Trust me, whatever you have, it’s been seen plenty of times here. Almost everyone in my family has jumped into the lake at one point in nothing but their underwear.”
“It’s not that…” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I was looking for those arm-length gators you were talking about.”
He laughed again. “The dogs probably scared them off.” He motioned for her to join him.
He had expected to enjoy the view of her standing at the end of the dock in her underwear, but he hadn’t anticipated that seeing her like that would be like a punch to the gut. She was even more beautiful than he’d imagined in her simple cream-colored bra-and-panty set.
She jumped into the water so quickly, he only got a quick glimpse. Still, it was enough that he was pretty sure he’d be thinking about her like that every time he saw her.
When she surfaced, her hair was pushed away from her face. She gasped.
“It’s freezing.” She kicked her feet and moved her arms to stay afloat.
He laughed. “It’s refreshing.” He smiled. “In another month it will be too hot to cool off in.”
“I’d rather be too hot than frozen at the bottom of a lake.” She started making her way to the shore, but he stopped her by grabbing her arm and tugging her body next to his.
Her hands went to his shoulders as they kicked to keep their heads above the water.
“There, you can have some of my body heat,” he said softly as he looked down at her face.
He felt her suck in her breath as she watched his lips. His eyes moved to her lips, and he once again wished to taste them.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, just under her breath.
“I would have thought that it was obvious by now,” he said truthfully, his eyes moving to her darker ones. “You feel so good next to me. So soft.” He rubbed his hands up her sides, enjoying the feeling of her silky skin in his hands.
When he pulled her closer, she gripped him harder and allowed him to hold them upright in the water.
“Clara, I really want to kiss you again,” he said when she didn’t speak. But before he could bend his head down to hers, she moved up and laid her lips over his.
She tasted even better than before. Maybe it was because her almost naked body was glued to his, or maybe it was because she’d opened up to him more. Either way, he found it hard to concentrate on not drowning as she slanted her lips and opened for him.
“My god,” he said softly next to her skin. He didn’t know why he was breathing so hard. He’d spent the last hour cutting out six massive evergreen bushes, roots and all, and hadn’t felt this winded. “We’d better move to shallower ground before we drown,” he joked. He started kicking them towards the sandy shore while he held onto her.
“You have a beach,” she said, glancing over his shoulder.
“Yeah, my dad and my uncles and I trucked in the sand ourselves.” He smiled. “Best summer of my life.” He felt the soft sand under his feet and pulled her closer. Giving her no time to recover, he took her lips again. This time he was able to explore her body a little more with his hands. He ran them up and down her sides, over her soft butt, pulling her closer to him. She moaned when she felt him hard and ready against her.
When he realized he could take her right there, he forced his hold on her to loosen. There were too many lies between them.
He’d never mixed work with pleasure before. He’d never wanted to, until her.
Chapter 8
Clara wrapped her legs around Reagan and held on as her body vibrated and demanded more. She needed him to touch her, needed to feel his heated skin against her own. Wanted more than anything to allow herself to let go, just for one moment. Just this time.
But then the dogs rushed over to them, splashing water on them, and she chuckled and pulled awa
y from Reagan.
Reagan easily let her go, shielding her from most of the water sprinkles from the wet dogs.
“Sorry, they have no manners.” One of the dogs rushed up to him and started climbing on his shoulders. “Or sense of personal space,” he added with a laugh as he picked up the dog easily. He tossed it playfully into the water. The other dog, seeing what fun its brother was having, rushed over to do the same.
She could tell that it was something he’d done before, lifting the massive dogs in his powerful arms and tossing them across the pond as if they weighed no more than a pebble.
She laughed and enjoyed watching the game until the dogs tired of it and disappeared into the tall grass surrounding the pond. Then Reagan returned to her side once more.
She felt her heart skip. But then she was screaming as he picked her up and, much like he’d done with the dogs, tossed her high up into the air. For one split second, she was weightless and carefree as she flew over the calm water. Then she landed in the water with a splash and sank below the surface. Instead of coming up for air, she swam towards him under the dark surface until she felt his legs and tugged playfully on his shorts.
She heard him laugh and he reached for her, but she twisted and kicked away from him, keeping out of his reach.
When her shoulder brushed against something massive and scaly, she rushed towards the sandy shore as fast as she could. Surfacing, she sputtered water out as she rushed to get out of the water, as images of a massive alligator rushing after her filled her mind.
“A gator,” she cried out, her eyes scanning the water quickly. “Hurry, get out.” She waved at Reagan and called out to him from the dry shore.
Reagan stood waist deep in the water, laughing at her.
“It was a fish,” he finally said when he was done laughing. “About this big.” He held his hands apart. “Trust me, I’ve been trying to catch old red for years.” He laughed some more.
“Are you sure?” she asked, unwilling to stick a toe in the water now that she’d felt something slimy in there.