All That I Need (Grayson Friends) (5 page)

“Like the Yateses, in my writing I don’t settle for anything but the best.”

He could see that. “Being the best requires a lot of skill, determination, and time. It doesn’t leave room for much of anything else.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. “I miss my family, but this is what I want to do—at least for now.”

“And later you’ll have that family you talked of,” he said, annoyed at himself for the irritation in his voice.

She picked up her wineglass and stared over the rim. “A family is in the far distant future. I love what I’m doing, but if one day I wake up and can’t stand the thought of getting on another airplane, renting another car, or writing another story, I’ll quit and find something that does excite me. What about you?”

“Like the unfortunate heir to this place, everyone isn’t meant to get married. I found his diary that will not go in the auction. He spent lavishly trying to buy happiness and wasted his life. He died a sad, lonely man. I’d like to think I’m smarter and face facts: marriage isn’t for me,” he told her. “I’m happy for Richard, but I’ve stopped looking.”

“I’d say there’s truth in the old saying ‘until the right woman comes along,’ but that isn’t what I meant.” She set the wineglass aside. “You’ve been able to move from one business venture to the next, each more successful than the last—is this, the auction house, what you’ve been searching for?”

He didn’t know how to answer her question, and that irritated him. “I’m not searching for anything,” he snapped.

Her brow lifted. “All right, but could you please send the charming Lance back? The night is beautiful and I’d like to take a walk, and if he doesn’t return I’m not helping clear the table or wash the dishes.”

“I’m perfectly capable of doing both,” he told her.

“You probably are, but it will be quicker if we both do it, and I’ve never met a man who liked washing dishes.” Standing, she picked up their plates and started for the kitchen.

Stacking the serving dishes, Lance slowly followed. Instead of leaving in a huff, she was helping. He was right. He’d never met a woman like her. He might be confusing her, but she was doing the same thing to him. “I was rude.”

She took the service ware from him. “Yes, you were.”

“But you didn’t leave,” he asked. “Why?”

“Because I misjudged you once and regretted it.” Folding her arms, she leaned back against the countertop. “My natural curiosity is to ask questions, find answers. I forget that sometimes the answers aren’t easy or pleasant.” She straightened. “Please bring in the other things. I’ll try to find a container for the chicken.”

“On the countertop by the refrigerator,” he said, then, “Unlike you, I haven’t found anything that holds my attention for a long period of time.”

“Yet you’ve been able to make a success of every business venture you’ve ever been in.” She shook her head. “Lance Saxton, you’re a remarkable businessman. If you ever find what you’re passionate about, the world had better look out. Now, let’s get this kitchen cleaned so we can take a walk.”

He’d expected sympathy, not admiration. She’d taken him aback again.

“The table won’t clear itself, Lance.”

“Going.” He was halfway out of the kitchen before he realized Fallon was giving him orders and he was carrying them out. He gave orders; he didn’t take them unless they suited him.

In righteous indignation, he marched back toward the kitchen empty-handed, reached for the door, and stopped abruptly. His breath snagged. Through the glass door he saw Fallon bent from the waist holding the refrigerator door open, her hips swaying from side to side, causing the material of her Bermuda shorts to tighten and his body to harden. Faintly he heard her humming “Rio” by Duran Duran.

Need and desire pulsed through his veins. His breath shuddered out over his parted lips. When he could get his feet to move, he went to the table instead of to Fallon.

If it took taking orders to taste her again, to feel her soft and clinging in his arms, so be it. But before the night was over he was going to be doing some taking of his own.

*   *   *

Silently Fallon and Lance walked side by side on the meandering paved path on the grounds, their way lit by wrought-iron lanterns. “It’s so quiet and peaceful here. It’s almost as if we’re the only people for miles.”

“We practically are,” he said. “The house is a mile from the highway and sits on four acres. Yates liked his peace.”

Fallon’s fingers fluttered though the leaves of a Japanese maple, one of several in large pots interspersed with boxwoods clipped into globes. “These might not make it though the winter.”

“Then they’ll be replaced.”

Fallon stopped beneath a lantern to see his face. “I forgot: the rich don’t think about money as much as the rest of us.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. “Once you have it, there is the matter of keeping and managing your assets.”

“Assets. Most people have little or no acquaintance with the word,” she told him, and continued back toward the house.

“You have something against people having money?”

“Of course not.” She stepped onto the loggia. “Unfortunately, there are people out there who don’t care if they have to cheat or use others to get that money.”

“Like the man who cheated your mother.”

“Sorry, you’re nothing like him. It’s just that the incident creeps back at times.” Impatiently she threaded her fingers through her thick, curly hair. “My parents loved working in the garden together. We had a potted Japanese maple by the front door they planted the year my younger sister, Megan, was born.”

Taking Fallon’s hand, Lance tugged her to a lounge chair. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

She blew out a breath. “My father was a wonderful man. He loved his family and worked hard to own his own printing company. Six years later, he developed liver failure. He always thought he was infallible. He had insurance, but it wasn’t enough. Medical bills quickly mounted. Medical tests and doctors’ visits needed a co-pay up front.” She moved her shoulders uneasily. “I was in my junior year of high school. My sister a freshman. We knew Daddy was sick, but not how serious until our parents told us they were going to sell the family antiques.”

“They were trying to protect you.”

“I know. I realized we must be in serious financial straits when I saw Dad with his baseball card collection that had once belonged to his grandfather.” She swallowed. “All he wanted to do was provide for his family, and that was taken away from him.”

“What happened?”

Her fingers intertwined with his, flexed. “Unfortunately, my mother signed a contract with an unscrupulous owner of an auction house. Instead of the fifty thousand dollars plus my parents were expecting, the check was for less than two thousand.”

Lancer’s face hardened. His arm went around her stiff shoulders.

“My mother had signed a contract to get forty percent of the sale price, and Charles East, the slime owner, was quick to show Mama what each item sold for at the auction,” Fallon said, bitterness rolling off her tongue. “An eighteenth-century cabinet in mint condition sold for fifty dollars.”

“He sent in a ringer and lowballed everything,” Lance said.

Fallon’s hand clenched and unclenched. “We didn’t figure that out until later. The police couldn’t do anything. In a month, he was gone. Two months later my father died thinking he’d failed his family.”

Lance’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “No wonder you wanted to take me on. I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” She twisted her head to look at him. “You’re nothing like the man who cheated us. It’s just that losing Daddy was difficult enough without losing practically everything we had. I hope you understand.”

“I do. My dad died in a construction accident when I was nine.” Lance gazed out into the night. “I didn’t want to believe it. He hadn’t been gone an hour. We’d had breakfast together and talked about the softball game I was pitching in that afternoon.”

“Sounds as if you had a great father as well,” she said.

“I did,” Lance said, facing her. “To me, he was all the superheroes rolled into one. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix around the house or on a car. But I liked best the times we went fishing and hunting, just the two of us.”

“For me and my sister, it was story time.” Fallon smiled at the memory. “Daddy loved doing all the character voices and sounds. We always went to bed with laughter.”

“Whatever the criminal took, he couldn’t take your memories. Remember that and honor your father.”

She nodded. “That’s what my mother said. Above all, Daddy wanted us happy. He was so proud of his family.”

“Did he know you wanted to be a travel writer?” Lance asked.

“He knew I wanted to be a journalist,” Fallon told Lance. “But when we lost the house and had to move, I had to enroll in a different school and lost the scholarship I was counting on.”

Lance cursed beneath his breath. “Your family went through a lot.”

“‘And survived,’ my mother is proud of saying.”

“She must be a very special woman.”

“That she is. She’s even found it in her heart to forgive the man who stole from us, but I’m not so forgiving,” she said, anger creeping back into her voice.

“What did you say the name of the man was?”

“Charles East. Why?”

“He shouldn’t have the opportunity to ruin another family’s life,” Lance answered.

He made the statement with such conviction she kissed him on the cheek, then got to her feet. “Thank you. Now I have to be going.”

Still holding her hand, he came to his feet as well. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into staying longer.”

“Afraid not. Thanks for a wonderful dinner.” She started for the table with her camera. “My notebook is on the table in the living room.”

“Are you coming back tomorrow?” Lance asked.

“I promised Naomi to go with her to look for a wedding dress,” Fallon told him. “I just hope we have better luck this time than we did looking for a dress for her the other time she wanted to look good for Richard.”

Lance’s hands bracketed Fallon’s waist. “Since you always look good, that’s a problem you’ll never have.”

“T-thank you.” Her heart skittered. He was too close. His mouth too tempting. She’d wanted to kiss him again since that morning. The kiss they’d shared wasn’t nearly enough.

“There are your eyes that grab a man, and lips that tempt and beckon.” Lance’s hand threaded though her hair, arching her mouth upward, taking it.

Fallon sighed at the first brush of his mouth, opening for him, giving him full access. He took his time, thoroughly ravishing her mouth, inciting her passion to get closer, to join in the mating of tongues.

When he lifted his head, his heart was pounding as fiercely as the blood rushing though his body. “I want you.”

Fallon’s eyes opened slowly. He glimpsed the desire even if he hadn’t felt it in the trembling of her body. “I—I can’t.”

He could take the decision from her. He knew it as surely as he knew his name. The thought cooled his passion as nothing else could have. Women always had a choice with him. The thought of anyone, including himself, taking advantage of Fallon angered him.

But that didn’t mean he was ready to release her. “It’s not easy letting you go.”

“For me, either, but I don’t do this.”

His arms tightened; then he stepped back. “I know. That’s why I’m letting you go.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you.”

“Yes, but if I pushed I’d lose so much more.” He picked up her camera. “I saw your notebook on the chest in the great room. We can pick it up on the way out.”

“Your hands aren’t steady, Lance.” She grinned. “I’d say you aren’t the only one with a little power.”

Lance followed her back inside to pick up her notebook, then out to her car. In spite of the need clawing though him, he liked that Fallon gave as good as she got. As soon as she unlocked her car he handed her the camera. “I’m following you back to your place. Give me a minute to drive my car around. No arguing.”

“Who’s arguing? I assume you plan to see me to my door and not just drive off once I get there.”

“Of course. What kind of man would do that?”

“Plenty. Considering the benefits, I’ll wait for you.”

Would he ever get used to the way she talked? “What benefits?”

She grinned and got inside her car. “Kissed good night twice.”

*   *   *

Fallon fully intended to get another good-night kiss until she pulled up in front of her apartment and saw the small group of people outside of Naomi’s door. Fear kicked in until Fallon recognized Richard and his parents with Naomi and Kayla. Fallon’s hands unclenched from the steering wheel. The last time people had been congregated in front of Naomi’s door, she’d been kidnapped.

The parking gods were with Fallon and she parked only a few doors down. Getting out, she waited for Lance. Through the rearview mirror she’d seen him park a few spaces across from her.

“Looks like we’re just in time.” Catching her arm, he continued toward the group. Introductions were quickly exchanged.

“Aunt Gladys. Uncle Leo. It’s so good to see you again.” Lance hugged the petite gray-haired woman before reaching for the older gentleman, who was easily six feet tall. “It’s good to see you.”

“Lance, I’m so glad to see you,” Richard’s mother greeted him, her hand on Lance’s arm. “We’d planned to come out tomorrow.”

“You’re looking good. Almost like old times.” Mr. Youngblood patted his nephew on the back. “It’s been a long time since the four of us were together.”

Lance’s smile slipped a bit. “Sorry I wasn’t able to make it any of the times you invited me back.”

“We understood.” Mrs. Youngblood gently touched his cheek.

“Of course we did,” Mr. Youngblood agreed. “You’re here now at the best time and that’s all that matters.”

Mrs. Youngblood turned to her son, sniffed, then looked at Naomi and Kayla. “I can’t believe Richard is getting married and I’m going to be a grandmother.”

“And I get to call you Nana,” five-year-old Kayla piped up with a wide grin.