Sweet Tea and Secrets (29 page)

Next in the stack was a photo. “Look.” Jill passed the photo his way. “It’s so faded. Can you make it out?”

He held the crisp yellowed photo as if it were spun glass. “No,” Garrett shook his head. “I can’t make it out either. Look how brittle the paper is.”

Jill glanced into the safe. “There’s something else in there.” She pointed toward the back corner of the safe.

Garrett reached inside until his fingers made contact with the contents. He lifted a small gray velvet box the size of a ring box from the safe. The front of the box had an ornate pearl button clasp.

“It’s beautiful.” Jill ran her fingers across the delicate velvet.

He held it toward her.

“No.” She held her hands tightly to her chest. “You open it,” she said, breathless, sitting on the closed trunk near the window.

He slid next to her and lifted the top open on its hinge. There, nestled in a deep burgundy velvet tray, was the most exquisite ring. A perfect black, almost purple, pearl set deep in the middle of golden filigree that spun up and around the sides of the pearl, protecting the precious and unusual jewel. Small gems sparkled, maybe sapphires and diamonds, encrusting the entire rim of the filigree.

“It’s magnificent.” The ring sparkled even in the dim light.

“As beautiful as you.” He took the ring from the box and lifted it to the light.

“Is there an inscription?”

He lifted the ring to the light, squinting at the inside of its band. “No.” Garrett reached for her left hand.

She stiffened, realizing his intentions.

“Just try it,” he said.

She took in a nervous breath.

He slid the ring on her finger.

She raised her hand in front of her. “Breathtaking,” she whispered.

“Perfect fit.”

“It is.” Jill began to take the ring off her finger, but Garrett stopped her.

“Just wear it. Pearl would want you to.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. It’s so precious. What if something happens to it?”

“She wanted you to have it. This ring was meant to be worn.”

“Do you think it was her wedding ring?” Jill fluttered her fingers, admiring the ring. It even made her short fingers look delicate.

“Yeah, and a secret all of these years. Time to let it be seen and enjoyed, don’t you think?” Garrett asked, thoughtfully.

She held her hand to her heart, then reached for Garrett and hugged him close. “This is such a precious treasure.”

He nodded in agreement. “Very special.”

She wasn’t sure if he meant her or the ring. Her skin flushed under his gaze.

Chapter Fifteen

Jill spent the first hour of her morning sitting at the kitchen table searching through Pearl’s recipe box, determined to find something to fix for Garrett that would be special enough to show him how she felt today.

Pearls ring sparkled on her finger as she flipped through the recipe cards. Every time Jill saw the ring on her finger it caused her to pause. Somehow wearing the ring felt like a direct connection to Pearl and that had a comforting effect.

She came across a recipe that she thought would be perfect.

“Yes.” She pulled the recipe out and did a little happy dance in her chair. “Perfect.” Pearl’s famous FryPan Meatloaf was always one of Garrett’s favorite. Homemade mashed potatoes, gravy and the last few summer squash from the garden would definitely be a winner.

She scanned through the ingredients and steps, then picked up her ringing phone with a cheerful hello.

“I didn’t expect you to sound so cheerful.”

Her stomach lurched. Bradley was the last person she expected to hear from. “What do you want?”

“I want to know when you’re coming home.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I made a mistake, Jill.”

“You’re telling me. The biggest mistake was that I didn’t figure everything out sooner.”

“Nothing like that ever happened before. I swear, baby doll. I regret hurting you. Please, you have to come back.”

She had no intention of falling under his spell. The sound of his voice made her uneasy. “I don’t
have
to do anything.”

“Your lawyer friend called me. You don’t need a restraining order.”

Jill was surprised at how fast Carolanne had moved. She knew that Bradley was going to be mad when he got served, but Carolanne had insisted she get the restraining order as a matter of record in case the breakup got ugly. Since Bradley held possession of everything she owned and her job, Jill had finally agreed. “Our relationship is over. What does it matter to you?”

“Then we don’t need a lawyer. You could have just called me?”

“I’d rather not.”

“We can work this out. And what about the Foundation? I need you, the Foundation needs you.”

“About that. I got a copy of the newspaper article. How did the newspaper get the wrong numbers?”

“You saw that? Well, if you’d been here that wouldn’t have happened. You can’t just walk out on all that hard work. We’re not done here. I am going to come and get you.”

“I’ll press charges if you do. Just leave me alone.” She did hate to let down the Foundation, but she’d completed her commitment. “You’re ruining a perfectly good day for me. Is there anything else you want? If not, I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t hang up on me. Listen to me carefully. I have no intention of losing what I want to Malloy or anyone else. I said we’re not done, and until we are, you will listen to what I have to say. Besides, I still own you nine-to-five.”

“Then I quit.”

“You can quit a job, but you can’t quit me. So listen up.”

Jill’s breath caught. “Are you threatening me?”

“No.” Bradley laughed and then there was a brief pause. “I’m threatening Malloy. He’s putting crazy thoughts in your head.”

Jill could only imagine how much madder he’d be if he knew Garrett had been spending the better part of the last week around the house. Thank goodness she hadn’t gotten around to telling him about that before the night in Savannah.

“Leave us alone,” she yelled into the phone. “Go play with Annie, she’s more your type anyway.”

“Don’t push me, Jill—”

Jill snapped her phone shut. She wasn’t about to listen to his threats. Carolanne was right to encourage her to get the protection order. He was nuts.

She went to the back door and watched Clyde sniffing along the fence in excitement, probably after a bunny or a mouse, maybe even just a cricket. All was fair game, and in spite of his size, he was still very much a puppy. If she told Garrett about Bradley’s call, he’d be mad, and probably for nothing. She felt bad for not telling Garrett, but what were the odds that Bradley would carry out a threat? She doubted it, because she knew he’d rather wear Armani than jailhouse orange.

If Bradley called back again, she promised herself she would tell Garrett, but no sense getting him riled up for nothing.

She got the electric skillet from the pantry and rinsed it off, and then used the step stool to get a basket off the wooden peg over the sink. Pearl kept baskets hanging upside down to keep the dust out of them. As decorative as they were when not in use, they were handy for picking vegetables, serving bread or any quick little chore that could use a carry-all.

Clyde knew the routine with the baskets, because he ran straight to the garden when he saw Jill clear the door carrying one. Jill plucked the last of the perfect yellow summer squash from the vines, then deadheaded the flowers that bordered the garden. She spent the rest of the afternoon mixing, chopping, slicing and then frying until Garrett came home.

“What smells so good?” Garrett called into the kitchen as soon as he pushed open the door.

Jill poked her head around the corner from the kitchen. “It’s a surprise. Hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m awake, aren’t I?” Garrett rubbed his stomach, following the smells toward the kitchen. The kitchen table was set for two. He peered over her shoulder as she worked her spatula in the hot grease of the electric skillet. “Please tell me that’s FryPan Meatloaf.”

“You’re right. It’s FryPan Meatloaf.”

“I’ve died and gone to heaven, and you,” he said, kissing her neck, “are my angel.”

Clyde lifted a paw to Jill’s leg. “And Clyde’s angel too, apparently.”

“You two are easy as long as there is food around. Sit. It’s almost ready.”

She put Clyde out with his dinner, served up the southern meal then sat across from Garrett.

This was exactly how she’d envisioned cooking for a man, and neither Garrett nor Clyde let her down. Garrett went back for seconds, and Clyde was thrilled when Garrett let him back inside to clean up the last fried tidbits and barbecue glaze from the plates.

Like any young boy, Clyde twisted away when Jill tried to clean his gravy laden muzzle with the kitchen towel. “Come on boy, cooperate.”

Garrett pretended to pant with his hands up like paws. “Do me next.”

“You’re impossible.” She swirled the dish towel and snapped it in his direction.

“Whoa,” he flinched back. “Looks like you think you’re still the towel snapping champion of the county.” He reached back and pulled the towel from the oven handle.

“Ohh-hhh, no you don’t.” She swirled her towel over head and popped it toward him, nipping him on the elbow as he twisted away.

He whipped his towel in a circular motion and belted out a wicked laugh. “You shouldn’t start something you can’t finish. I don’t think angels are allowed to be towel snappers.”

She backed toward the kitchen door and then lunged forward. Snap! She tagged him right on the hip. “Take that, puddin’ boy.”

“Them’s fightin’ words, country girl.” He snapped the towel toward her butt.

“Yow!” she squealed.

“Easy target,” he snickered.

“Talk about fightin’ words!” She snapped her towel toward him twice, but didn’t connect.

He chased her around the dining room table and into the living room.

“
Bwahaha!
” Jill crouched into a boxer’s stance and laughed so hard she could barely breathe.

Garrett jumped onto the opposite end of the couch and lifted one leg up like the karate kid. “Ooowhaaahhh.” He swung the towel under his arm and across his chest like a Nunchuk.

“Good golly, you’re whacko. Okay, I give,” she shouted, jumping to the floor.

When she hit the ground, Clyde leaped in the air, grabbed Garrett’s towel and ran down the hall with it.

Jill didn’t miss the chance to take advantage of Garrett. “Who...just...lost...his weapon?” She snapped the towel with each word.

Garrett leaped to the floor and swept her into his arms and right off her feet, spinning her around.

“Who’s your daddy?” Garrett taunted her.

“No one.”

He nuzzled her neck and lifted her higher, causing her to squeal.

“Who’s the towel snapping champ?”

“Me,” she shrieked.

“Oh, I don’t think so. Say ‘I’m Garrett’s angel.’” He ran down the hall towards the bedroom with her in his arms, her squealing the whole way. “Say it,” he teased.

“I’m Garrett’s…an-gel,” she grunted out between breaths and giggles.

“And he’s the towel snapping king.”

“Oh no. Never.” She squealed as she tried to wriggle free.

“You sure?”

“Okay, okay, you’re the towel snapping king.”

“Aaah-hah.” He tossed her up and onto the bed, then belly-flopped beside her.

“Whew. We’re too old for that kind of action.”

“Speak for yourself, girl,” he said, panting.

“Come on, we need to finish cleaning up the kitchen.” She tried to catch her breath.

He held her close. “Let’s just call it a night.” He kissed her softly on the neck, and she relaxed against him.