Saving Sycamore Bay (Destined for Love: Mansions) Page 5

  Grace ran to Harrison’s side. He had his arms folded over his muscular chest. He glanced at Grace as she approached and nodded to her, then glared down at Beau once more. “Shall we repeat it again?” Harrison asked.

  Beau glared at him. “I will never threaten Grace or her home again.”

  Harrison looked at Grace. “Are you convinced?”

  “Not really.” But she couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Go get your phone and call the police, please,” Harrison said evenly.

  Beau scrambled to his feet. “No! Come on, man.” He splayed his hands and begged, looking like a wet weasel. “I was just trying to get a little play with my girl. Don’t call the police. My dad will cut me off.”

  “Guess the water sobered him up a little bit,” Grace said to Harrison. What gave Beau the impression she was “his girl”? She’d always been there for him like a friend or sister, but they weren’t and never would be romantically involved, no matter how much he thought they were.

  Harrison gave her his easy smile, which she was already coming to love. “The water helped a little bit, but I think he’s too dim-witted to understand what I’m telling him.”

  Beau’s face flashed resentment and anger, but he smoothed it out quick and stayed focused on Harrison. “Honestly. I’ll leave her alone. Don’t call the police.”

  “You know him better than me, Grace. Will he keep his word and leave you alone? If you don’t believe him, we need to report the trespassing and the threat so if something happens again it’s on his record.”

  Beau looked at her with pleading eyes. “Please, Gracie Lee. You know me.” He swallowed hard. “I drank a lot tonight, but you know I’d never hurt you. I just want to be with you, baby.”

  Grace folded her arms across her chest, imitating Harrison’s standoffish stance, wishing she was strong and threatening like Harrison. “Well, you’ve blown any chance of that with your stupid tricks.”

  “I’m sorry, pretty girl. I can just be your friend if that’s what you need right now.”

  Beau’s simpering wasn’t what convinced her; rather, she remembered their lifelong friendship and that she was so used to protecting him she didn’t know how to stop. She’d always been the one to take care of him when he did stupid stuff, and she tried to keep him out of trouble with his daddy. When his daddy thumped him, she’d been the one to nurse him and care for him.

  She nodded to Harrison, even though she didn’t feel a hundred percent confident. Yet she’d never forget the day Beau had played a simple prank at a pep rally and called the other team’s starting lineup, “A bunch of horse dung.” The entire student body had roared their approval, but a call from the principal and Beau had barely made it to her house that night. She’d gone to the sheriff after that one, despite Beau’s protests, nothing happened but Beau being hit more regularly.

  “He’ll honor his word,” she told Harrison. “If he doesn’t, his daddy will beat him better than you just did.” She felt a little bad for revealing Beau’s family secrets, but Harrison had to understand why she wasn’t calling the cops.

  Harrison nodded his understanding. “Wish I could say you missed the beating, but he cowered when I came within five feet of him.”

  Grace was grateful Harrison hadn’t resorted to hitting Beau. Though he deserved it this time, she’d always hated seeing him hurt. She turned to Beau. “I don’t want to see you again. Get off my property.”

  Beau’s eyes flashed, but he said quietly, “I’m sorry.” He put his hands up and backed away, eyeing Harrison nervously. As soon as he was far enough away, he turned and ran.

  They watched him go, then as one turned and faced each other. Grace shifted her weight to her left foot, the grass cool underneath her toes. “Thank you, and … I’m sorry.”

  Harrison smirked. “What are you sorry about?”

  “I used to call him a friend.” She jammed a thumb at the spot Beau had disappeared.

  “We all make mistakes.” Harrison gave her his slow grin, but then his face grew serious. “Are you all right?”

  “How could I not be with you here?”

  Harrison smiled, but there was something off, awkward in the air between them. She wished she could pull the words back. Harrison had only come because his boss had asked him to, and she was making it uncomfortable, being so needy and throwing herself at him.

  “Thank you,” she said quickly before he could respond to her earlier comment. “I’m going to head to bed. Lots to do in the morning.”

  He nodded, his eyes sober and without their usual warmth as he looked at her. “I’m just going to make sure everything’s secure; then I’ll come through the back and lock up.”

  “Okay, thank you again.” She scampered away, spinning around on the back porch to search the darkness for him. She couldn’t see him and wondered if she’d just made a huge mistake. She should’ve kissed him in gratitude and worried about how she shouldn’t be throwing herself at him later.

  She walked slowly up the back staircase and lay on top of her sheets, the comforter thrown to the end of the bed. The June heat didn’t abate no matter the time of day or night.

  Through the open windows she heard Harrison’s phone ring. It was after eleven, quiet enough that his side of the conversation came through if she lay completely still and listened quietly.

  “It’s all right, sir. I’m sorry Mrs. Goodman hasn’t been sleeping well. How is she otherwise?”

  Grace slid out of bed and crept to the window, straining to not miss a word. Was this the first time Henry had called him?

  “Oh, good, good. Yes, sir—I mean, Henry. Grace is doing all right. She’s a mighty brave lady.”

  Grace flushed at that.

  “There’s not much to be done about the will, but her old boyfriend’s been lurking around.” Pause. “Yes, Beau, that’s right. I’ll stay as long as she needs me to help her.” There was another, longer pause. “It’s all right, sir. You’ve been more than generous.”

  Grace tried to swallow past her dry throat. Of course Henry had offered Harrison some incentive to come help her. Why did that make her feel so small and undesirable?

  “Yes, I miss home, but I’m okay. I’ll stay for you, sir.”

  Grace slunk back to bed. She’d heard plenty. Harrison had been so kind to her, but he’d basically said he wished he wasn’t here. He wanted to be home and he was only staying for Henry and whatever Henry had promised him. She didn’t even know Harrison that well, but he’d become so much more than a football hero to her in a short time. Was it complete selfishness that she didn’t want him to leave and she wanted to be more to him than a paycheck?

  Turning to her side, she punched her pillow. She’d been silly, assuming Harrison being here meant she wasn’t alone anymore. Alone was all she’d ever be.

  8

  Harrison finished taping off the long baseboard and then tried to paint along the tape with the light blue paint and not have it bleed over onto the white. Things had been a little strained between him and Grace today. He was sure it was his fault for not making some romantic speech after Beau left, but he didn’t know what to say to make it better now. He’d had glorious visions last night as Beau cowered before him, and he realized he’d saved Grace’s beloved house, that she would fall into his arms, maybe cry a little bit, for sure kiss him a lot. No such luck.

  He kept getting the impression that she didn’t like his reason for being here, but that made no sense. He wouldn’t have even known her or that she needed him without Henry Goodman forcing him here. How was he supposed to change that? He wished he was more accomplished in understanding women. Knowing Grace was outside watering her flowers, he pulled his phone out and hit the contact for his sister, Moriah.

  “Hey there, little bro. How’s my stuffy accountant?”

  Harrison chuckled and swiped more paint on, the heat making his fingers sweaty and not helping his precision at all. “I’m actually painting a house in Mobile, and I need your advice.” />
  “You need my advice on painting? You’re horrible at it, quit now.”

  “I know. But I need your advice on women.”

  “Oh, gotcha. I’m a much better advisor on that subject for sure. Stop it, Turk … Jace, keep your hands to yourself! Yes … okay.” She exhaled loudly, but there was laughter in her voice. “Turk and Jace say hey, and you have to come visit this weekend.”

  Oh man, how he would love to go visit them in Montgomery and not just because they had air conditioning. “I wish I could, but I don’t think I can leave Grace.” And he knew he couldn’t pry her away from this house for the weekend.

  “Is Grace the women trouble?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you’re painting her house?”

  “It’s a long story, but I’m here for work.” He kept dragging paint along the baseboard as he talked, glancing out the window every so often. Grace was out in the vegetable garden now. She bent low to pick a pepper, and the air whooshed out of him. Her shape was perfect to him and he could watch her all day long.

  He spilled his story to Moriah quickly before Grace came back in. “Grace is amazing and beautiful, but she’s acting like a woman. I’m not sure if she’s upset because her old boyfriend’s coming around causing trouble, or upset because my boss assigned me to be here.”

  “Okay. First of all, child, don’t ever dare say ‘she’s acting like a woman’ to me again or I’ll track you down wherever you are and smack you. Second of all, no woman could resist you, little brother. Turn on that Southern ‘I’m the football hero of the world’ charm.”

  Harrison smiled, shaking his head. “Sis, you’re the only one who thinks no woman can resist me.” He didn’t have any Southern or football charm. He was just him, who obviously said dumb things like, “she’s acting like a woman.”

  “Oh, brother.” He could just imagine the look of despair on her face. “The humility is probably endearing to the women, but it doesn’t fly with me. You’re a stud muffin!”

  “Okay, you calling me a stud muffin is more than a little awkward.”

  Moriah’s deep laugh rang out on the phone. Harrison set the paintbrush down and simply watched Grace pick vegetables and put them in her basket.

  “You’re the complete package, Harrison. I’m just saying any woman would be nuts not to go for you. The humility is good, but I need you to up the confidence a bit, all right? Throw those burly shoulders back, put a smile on that handsome mug, talk to her so she can know the genuine, kind man you are, and she’ll be chasing after you faster than Turk can eat a candy bar.”

  Harrison knew exactly why he’d called Moriah. He needed this dose of confidence, even if she was more than a little biased. He watched as Grace walked toward the house, then swiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and picked up his paintbrush again. “Thanks, sis. I’ll try my best.”

  “Get your bum up here and visit us. Bring Grace, and we’ll make sure she’s head over heels for you before you leave.”

  He laughed, not sure if time spent with Moriah would draw Grace in or terrify her. He adored his sister, but she could be a little overwhelming to some people. He smiled. Grace could hold her own with anyone, and she’d probably love Moriah. “I’ll see if I can make it work.”

  “That’s a no.” Moriah sighed dramatically. “I’ll just keep praying for you, then, and the good Lord will provide. I didn’t even ask—is this girl worthy of you?”

  “She’s an angel.” Turning, Harrison drew in a quick breath. Grace stood in the archway of the sitting room, her beautiful mouth slightly open. “I’ll talk to you soon, sis.”

  Her goodbye was shut off as he pushed the end button on the phone and dropped it into his pocket.

  Grace set the vegetables down and walked a few steps into the room. “Your sister?” she asked. Then her cheeks turned pink. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  “It’s okay. It was my sister.”

  “Is she close by?”

  “Montgomery.”

  “That’s nice.” There was so much more in her eyes than nice. Did she realize he’d called her an angel? She bent down and checked underneath the tape, gasping slightly. “Oh, Harrison, you really are horrible at this.”

  Harrison dropped the brush into the paint tray and moved right up close to her. She straightened, and he could smell her heady scent, vanilla and lilacs in the springtime. Her silky hair brushed his cheek. She glanced up at him, and he couldn’t care less about painting as her blue eyes with those pretty, long lashes focused in on him.

  “I am?” he asked, deep and low.

  She swallowed and her gaze darted down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. “At … painting,” she clarified. “I imagine you’re right good at everything else.”

  Harrison lifted an eyebrow and was about ready to try out her lips and hope he was “right good” at kissing. He imagined that if he was kissing her, his skill set wouldn’t matter much with the sparks and warmth tracing between them. He leaned down closer and she arched up.

  A loud rap at the door made Grace stumble back, hitting her backside on the fresh paint. Harrison cursed whoever was at that door. If it was Beau, he would thump him good this time. He offered Grace a hand. She accepted, and he wanted to rail at the person knocking again. If her hand in his felt this good, what would a kiss be like?

  Grace released his hand and rushed around him. Harrison followed. This woman could lead him around like a puppy dog without any kind of leash.

  Grace tried to compose herself and not be angry at whoever was pounding on her door, even though they’d just interrupted what she was sure would’ve been the best kiss of her life. Who cared if Harrison had only come for Henry Goodman? He was here now.

  “She’s an angel.” Harrison had said that to his sister. Was he talking about Grace? She could hope.

  Swinging the door wide, her heart immediately softened. Uncle Mike and Aunt Geraldine stood on the porch with a peach pie and ice cream in hand and wide, oh-so-needed smiles on their faces. “There’s our girl,” Aunt Geraldine squealed, dragging Grace into her arms.

  Grace relaxed against Aunt Geraldine’s soft frame, missing her mama and basking in the comfort of her lifelong adopted aunt. Aunt Geraldine released her and she got a one-armed hug from Uncle Mike, who was trying to balance the ice cream and pie that smelled wonderfully of warm crust, fresh peaches, and sugar.

  “Well, who is this handsome man?” Aunt Geraldine said coyly.

  Grace turned to see Harrison reclining against the doorjamb—his dark eyes smoldering at her and those perfect lips turned up in a smile. Had she really almost kissed those lips? She felt a little faint just thinking about it. Handsome honestly didn’t do him justice. “This is my … friend, Harrison Jackson. Henry Goodman sent him here to help me.”

  Uncle Mike stuck his hand out, but a look of frustration traced across his black eyes. “Any friend of Henry’s is a friend of ours,” he said.

  Grace didn’t understand why Uncle Mike had seemed upset for a second. His and Aunt Geraldine’s daughter had married a white man and they had been thrilled. He couldn’t possibly be upset that Grace was wanting to be in a biracial relationship. Then it hit her. He probably thought she and Harrison were being immoral, spending night and day in this house together. Her cheeks got hot, but she didn’t know how to explain.

  Harrison stepped onto the porch and shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Mike and Geraldine Huesser,” Uncle Mike said, releasing his hand.

  Aunt Geraldine wrapped her arms around Harrison’s waist. It made Grace smile to see her rounded aunt with the tall, strong Harrison. “Are you here to help our girl?” Aunt Geraldine asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She released him and glanced up at Uncle Mike, who fixed Harrison with a stern look. “Grace’s daddy was my best friend,” he said. “And this little girl is like one of my own. You treat her right, you hear?”

  “Yes, sir.�
� Harrison shifted from foot to foot. Grace had never seen him this uncomfortable. “I promise I will, sir.”

  Uncle Mike locked eyes with Harrison for a few seconds, then finally nodded.

  “Whew.” Aunt Geraldine fanned her face. “Looks like you passed muster.” She giggled and gestured them all inside. “Well, let’s get in the kitchen and eat this delicacy. Baked it myself, so I know it’s going to be heavenly.” She winked at Harrison.

  Harrison chuckled, and Aunt Geraldine’s reference to heaven made Grace think of Harrison saying she was an angel. She didn’t care that Harrison had leaked blue paint onto the white baseboards. This day was looking to be her best in a long while.

  9

  Harrison really liked Grace’s adopted aunt and uncle, especially the endearing Aunt Geraldine. They enjoyed a nice visit about Mike and Geraldine’s recent travels to the cool beauty of Maine, and discussed Harrison’s football career. Together, they walked them out to the porch after enjoying the delicious pie and ice cream.

  Uncle Mike pulled Grace aside and said in a low tone, “Honey, I think you should really consider selling this place.” When Grace’s mouth tightened, he lifted his hands. “I know how you love it here and the connection with your mama and daddy, but sweetheart, it’s too much. Come stay with us, finish your schooling, have a life.” He tapped her nose. “You need to think of yourself once in awhile.”

  Grace sighed and gave him a hug, stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Okay. Love you, little girl. We can come by anytime you need us.” He squeezed her tight, then offered his arm to Aunt Geraldine.

  Aunt Geraldine gave Grace a long hug and Harrison a quick one, muttering, “You take care of my princess, you hear me boy?”