One Unforgettable Kiss. A.C. Arthur
“You’re in the service?” she asked.
“Navy,” he replied.
“He’s a navy pilot!” Arnold added. “I’ll excuse him for choosing the navy over the FRS.”
Arnold thought everybody who even considered a career in the military should select the marines. How many debates had she witnessed between her father and her grandfather about which was better, the marines or the army? Too many to count.
“I didn’t know that,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Well, I’m sure my father will keep you entertained with talk about the war or the service, or both. I’ve got a few things to check, so I’ll just get out of your way.”
She made it all the way into the living room before she was stopped.
“Never seen you run from anybody before.”
“What?” she asked and spun around to see her grandfather sitting in his favorite recliner.
Harper hated that chair. The dingy brown floral pattern was straight out of the ’60s, and it creaked every time Pops leaned back to recline in it. But two Christmases ago when she’d bought him a new motorized leather recliner, he’d thanked her kindly but flat out refused to sit in it, declaring there was nothing wrong with his old one. The new recliner made its way into her father’s bedroom, and Harper wisely never broached the subject of Pops’s favorite seat in the house again.
“Oh, Pops, you scared me,” she replied.
“Only reason somebody would be frightened in their own house is if they were doing something they shouldn’t be doing,” he quipped.
He was sitting back in that chair, legs crossed at the ankles and pouring tobacco into his pipe, while his wire-framed glasses slipped slightly down his nose.
“Who’s frightened? I’m heading to the barn to make sure Craig stacked all the boxes of tile along the side like I asked him to. Aunt Laura called him and Marlon home right after we finished up today, so he said he’d bring the tile by after the special dinner she had planned.”
Pops nodded and took the first puff of his pipe. He’d been lighting it while she talked. That’s how she’d known she’d been rambling, because he hadn’t looked up once.
“Laura celebrates everything. I think Giff said it was the anniversary of the day they moved into that house. That’s why she was having a big ol’ dinner. Your father told Giff we already had our dinner on the stove when he called. That way we wouldn’t have to go.”
Harper frowned. “We had smoked sausage and fried potatoes for dinner tonight, and Daddy didn’t start cooking that until after I was home and showered.”
“Yep,” Pops said and gave his wide, toothy smile. “You’re right about that.”
Harper smiled in return, because her grandfather’s bug eyes, those glasses and his grin always made her feel happy inside.
“Right. So I’m just going to go out and get a count. I might load them in my truck so I’ll be ready to leave early tomorrow.”
“Sure. Sure. Take all the time you need,” Pops said. “I’m sure that nice navy fella will be gone by the time you’re done.”
Harper knew exactly what he was trying to say. But he was wrong anyway—she wasn’t running from Garrek Taylor. There was no reason to run from a man who meant nothing to her, but who still managed to set every inch of her traitorous body on fire with one gaze.
“He didn’t come to see me, Pops. So it’s fine if I leave,” she said and moved closer to the door.
“Guess you’re right. He came all the way out here to meet two old duds like me and your dad.”
Harper kept going, muttering once more, “He didn’t come to see me,” before opening and closing the front door behind her.
* * *
Garrek had driven out to the Presley farm to make sure that Harper was all right. After the near accident this morning, he’d just wanted to make sure he hadn’t hurt her with his impromptu save-the-day act. She was a lot thinner than his two hundred and thirty pounds.
He also wanted to get his mind off the many papers he’d read while he enjoyed the room service meal earlier this evening. A stout woman with tightly curled, frosted gray hair had welcomed him back when he arrived at the B&B after leaving Gray’s house. She’d introduced herself as Mrs. Louisa Reed, but insisted Garrek call her Nana Lou and apologized profusely for any bad things he might have heard about her son, Harry—who was now in jail—and Gray’s wife. Nana Lou felt the need to cater to him personally, even though there was another man at the front desk when he’d come in. His name was Otis, and the old herringbone cap he wore had definitely seen better days.
Garrek had found the scene to be homely and welcoming, a stark contrast from life on the base, or flying out at a moment’s notice for secret flight exercises. It made him think once more about the life he’d chosen, the one he’d thought he wanted more than anything else.
A few hours later, Nana Lou had sent up a large bowl of beef stew with two thick chunks of warm homemade bread and a pitcher of lemonade. It was a humid June day, and yet the hearty stew and bread had hit the spot as an early dinner in the quaint air-conditioned room. While he enjoyed the stew, Garrek read through everything in the two envelopes that Gray had sent him months ago. After the meal, he sat in the high-backed chair near the window and thought about everything that had been in those envelopes. When he finally felt a bit overwhelmed with it all, the idea to check on Harper hit him. And Otis had been the one to provide her address when Garrek inquired.
He’d hoped the ride would clear his mind, but it only gave him more time to contemplate what was happening in his life. First: a house.
In addition to the three million dollars, Theodor Taylor had also left something called the Adberry house to his second son. After receiving Gray’s packages six months ago, Garrek had decided to deal with the money first. Once the new accounts were open, he’d also put copies of the paperwork from all the accounts, and the letter from Gray detailing how he’d found the money their father had left to each of them, in a safe-deposit box. Garrek had never been stationed out of the country so there was no reason for him to have an account in Grand Cayman. Sure, it was an inheritance and having an offshore account didn’t necessarily equate to wrongdoing, but after being linked to a family with one national scandal in his lifetime Garrek had no desire to tempt fate. He’d never had a blemish on his record with the military and he didn’t want to take the chance of his commanding officers finding out and getting the wrong idea.
That had been easy enough to deal with. As for this house, he wasn’t quite sure about that one yet, especially since he’d been on the fence about Gray selling their father’s other properties in Temptation.
So by the time Garrek had arrived at the farm, he was more than ready to see Harper’s pretty face again. There was something about her that he had yet to figure out that made him want—no, need—to see her. It was the oddest thing. He had come to Temptation to get away from one woman, only to have another one plague his thoughts. And this one, unlike the woman he’d left in Washington, didn’t want his attention at all.
Linus and Arnold Presley were nice enough men who were more than eager to talk about their respective military careers. But since Garrek wasn’t sure he was going to have a military career in the upcoming weeks, he didn’t welcome the topic of conversation. The only other thing that captivated the men’s attention was when he said, “I came to make sure Harper was all right.”
They’d each perked up at that comment, which had surprised Garrek.
“Oh, yeah, she seemed fine at dinner,” Arnold said. “My nephew Marlon called to tell us about the incident.”
“And I immediately called Sherriff Duncan and told him to get his butt in gear. Tractor-trailers aren’t supposed to be on residential streets.