Trusting Her Heart

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Trusting Her Heart Page 2

by Tara Randel


  Wondering what had brought her such pleasure, Serena joined her at the window and felt her own smile slip when Mrs. M.’s grandson Logan Masterson strode into view. He stopped to read the sandwich board situated on the sidewalk, giving Serena a moment to drink him in. Not that she needed to—she’d memorized his good looks the first, brief, time they met.

  The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with a military bearing. His wavy dark brown hair caught the sunlight perfectly. Sunglasses were perched on an aristocratic nose. A five-o’clock shadow dusted his cheeks, even though it was just after noon. Dressed in a striped button-down shirt with the cuffs undone, indigo jeans and shiny boots, he glanced in the window and saw his grandmother, and a devastating smile brightened his handsome face.

  Swallowing hard, Serena wanted to escape, really, she did, but her feet wouldn’t move—mutinous body parts. The door opened and the sound of a car horn and laughter floated in with him. He removed his sunglasses to reveal intense coffee-colored eyes. It was then, Serena decided, that she was a goner.

  * * *

  LOGAN MASTERSON WALKED over to his grandmother and placed a kiss on her soft cheek, then sized up the owner of Blue Ridge Cottage. The woman had been impossible to nail down. Every time he’d come to Golden, he’d tried to speak with her, but always ended up talking to her employee, who told him that her boss was conveniently out of town or on a business trip. It was almost like she knew he’d been hired to uncover her background. He’d worry about that fact if he wasn’t sure he was the best PI around.

  “Grandmother, how are you this fine day?”

  The woman he adored lightly tapped his shoulder. “Fine, if not worried about you.”

  Yes, he’d been running late due to a problem he’d been dealing with at his Atlanta agency. There were a dozen investigations requiring his managerial skills, but he wouldn’t trade the satisfaction of owning his own business against a few time constraints.

  After eight years in military intelligence, he’d opted out. An army buddy had opened a PI agency in Dallas, and offered him a good job. He’d worked there for a year and discovered that he genuinely liked helping people seek justice and uncover secrets. Maybe because of the truth that his own family had kept from him.

  But eventually, he missed the foothills of the southern Appalachians and decided to head back to Atlanta. He had every intention of working for another agency, but his friend’s farewell advice came in the form of encouraging Logan to open his own office. He liked the idea of being the boss, so he returned to his home state, went about obtaining all the pertinent licensing and insurance, then started taking cases. Word spread, clients increased and, four years later, he employed half a dozen other investigators. Logan was thankful his employees were pretty self-sufficient, but every once in a while, though, he had to insert himself in a case. Today had been one of those instances.

  “You always tell me to work hard instead of hardly working. I was following your advice.”

  Grandmother rolled her eyes. “Don’t go throwing my words back at me. I know how you are.”

  She really didn’t, thank goodness. But that was a concern for another day.

  Shrugging his shoulders to relieve the tension after the ride in his SUV from the city to this mountain town, he glanced around the store, then met Miss Stanhope’s gaze.

  “Well, I finally get to talk to the elusive store owner.”

  Her shoulders tensed. “We’ve talked before.”

  “For about two minutes. Not much time to get to know someone.”

  “I have a business to look after,” she said, smoothing the skirt on her sleeveless dress. She moved her gaze from his, but not before he caught a glimpse of her unusual blueberry-colored eyes. He’d forgotten how startling they were, especially in contrast to her rosy complexion and midnight black hair. He wanted a chance to look at them again, because, yeah, she intrigued him.

  The phone rang, breaking his moment of reflection. Tossing her long straight hair over one shoulder, Serena turned and made her way to the counter.

  His grandmother elbowed him as he watched her go.

  He yelped, “Hey, what was that for?”

  “You’re messing up my plan,” she said in a loud whisper.

  He knew what her sneaky plan entailed and didn’t want any part of it. He lowered his voice. “I told you, Grandmother, I can find a woman on my own.”

  “You’re taking much too long. I want to see you happy before I die.”

  Calling his grandmother dramatic was an understatement.

  “Look, I’m in town for the meeting,” he said, leaving out the fact that he was doing a little reconnaissance work while he was at it. “Not to look for a wife.”

  “Can’t you multitask?”

  He coughed out a laugh.

  Grandmother sighed. “Turns out I need your expertise while you’re here. Let’s go get coffee before the family meeting.”

  At the mention of family, Logan’s stomach clenched. As much as he’d tried to untangle himself from the family business, his grandmother bound him up in emotional ties he couldn’t escape. That meant quarterly meetings. He’d much rather have major surgery than sit in his father’s boardroom.

  Digging into the front pocket of his jeans, he extracted a few bills and handed them to his grandmother. “Why don’t you head over to Sit a Spell and order our drinks. I’ll be there in a few.”

  Grandmother’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do?”

  “Chat up your friend like you want me to.”

  With a slight harrumph, his grandmother waved at Serena and left the store. He was now alone with the woman who had caused more useless legwork to and around his hometown than he cared to admit. Putting on his PI game face, he strolled up to the register as she hung up the phone.

  “Aren’t you leaving with your grandmother?” Serena asked.

  “I will, but first I wanted to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  “Grandmother playing matchmaker.”

  Serena’s gaze flickered away for a flash and returned.

  “Is that why you disappear every time I arrive in town?”

  “I don’t...” She tried to mask the annoyance on her face, but failed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “Your grandmother’s actions aside, I have had legitimate reasons for being away, not that it’s any of your concern.”

  “Fair enough. Matchmaking or not, I care about my grandmother, and she thinks highly of you. I wouldn’t want to see her disappointed, say, if her good opinion were to change.”

  Her eyes grew wide, the unusual color more pronounced. “For heaven’s sake, why would I disappoint her? She’s been more than wonderful to me. And a friend.”

  He shrugged to give off an air of nonchalance.

  She looked at him accusingly. “Do you grill all her tenants?”

  “I’m a bit overprotective that way.”

  “Well, you have no reason to think I’d do anything to hurt her. Or go along with her tactics.”

  “Good.” He sent her the reassuring smile he’d patented to ease subjects into believing they had nothing to worry about. “Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  Serena rubbed her right wrist. “Anything else?”

  “No.” He turned, stopped and caught her gaze again. “I like your store, by the way.”

  Confusion swept over her features. “Thanks?”

  Chuckling, he strode outside. He’d learned a long time ago the best way to pick up information was to keep your subject off guard. Serena wouldn’t know what to make of him now and that would work to his advantage.

  Crossing the street, he met his grandmother, already seated at an outdoor table at the busy coffee shop. A warm rich scent wafted from the store, making Logan’s stomach grumble. He’d missed lunch in his haste to get
here and now realized how hungry he was. Holding up one finger at his grandmother, he ducked into Frieda’s Bakery to buy pastry. Not even close to the healthy food he normally consumed, but Frieda made an apple fritter he couldn’t resist. Stepping back out to the sidewalk, he unwrapped a treat and took a bite of sweet apple chunks rolled into tasty dough and offered the other one to his grandmother.

  Mouth full, he met his grandmother’s stony glare.

  “You didn’t do the ‘I worry about my grandmother and I have my eyes on you’ routine, did you?”

  Logan swallowed, took a seat and stretched out his legs. “When have I ever made my intentions known to your tenants?” Reaching out, he took the drink his grandmother had ordered and leaned back in the chair.

  “Young man, I needed your help years ago. I can handle myself fine now.”

  “I don’t doubt it for a minute.” He took a sip—Delroy and Myrna Hopkins still had the best coffee he’d tasted anywhere—and lifted one shoulder. “I enjoy making people squirm.”

  “You don’t trust anyone, do you, Logan?”

  “Only you.” He straightened, set down the fritter on a napkin and leaned across the table to cover her soft, wrinkled hand with his. “No one will ever take advantage of you again.”

  Grandmother patted his hand in return. “I thank you for your grizzly-bear efforts, but I must ask you to stop scaring my tenants.”

  Blowing out a put-upon sigh, he picked up the fritter. “When did you lose your sense of fun?” he asked, then finished off the doughnut only to start the second one.

  “Since you began this mission to protect me.” She withdrew her hand. “Besides, I like Serena. She’s all alone and I feel rather motherly toward her.”

  Another reason she was pushing this match. She had a big heart. As much as he would have liked to tell her he wasn’t interested in romance, he couldn’t reveal the truth to his grandmother. His good friend Deke Matthews had called in a favor and Logan meant to do well by his buddy. Yes, Serena had been hard to catch up with over the summer, but she was telling the truth—she had been working on designs for her greeting-card business. He hadn’t been able to find out much else about her, and for a guy who sniffed out lies for a living, she was turning into a major project.

  “Tell me what you wanted to discuss,” he said, changing the subject.

  “It happens to be about Serena.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  Grandmother pulled a folder from her purse. “She’s offered me a business proposal. I haven’t had time to read it yet, but since you do all the background checks on tenants and businesspeople I work with, I thought you should look into this.”

  Huh. What were the odds his grandmother would give him an avenue to investigate this woman? And why did his Spidey-sense go haywire at the request? Because two different people have asked you to check up on the same woman. Circumstances like this didn’t happen easily, or often, so he decided to look at this newest development as a gift. One thing he’d learned in PI work, and life in general, was that people lied. And some lies were more devastating than others.

  He understood Deke’s concern. His friend was trying to find information about a man his widowed mother was dating. Since Logan was superprotective of his grandmother, he got why Deke and his brothers were concerned. The man in question seemed too good to be true, with reason. One of Deke’s brothers had discovered this man had lied about his employment and their mother refused to listen to the warnings.

  Even though Deke’s mother and the subject lived in Florida, they’d found a link, phone calls between the man and Serena’s store number. That was when Logan had been called in. So far he hadn’t uncovered much. Serena’s personal history was spotty—there was a huge gap between her childhood and when she started her business. Any PI worth his salt knew that was a major red flag.

  And now Serena wanted to do a business deal with his grandmother? Heck, no. Not until he learned more about who she was, what she was up to and if there were legal reasons why he couldn’t find a complete history on her.

  “So will you look into this for me?” his grandmother asked.

  “Like I always do. Please tell me you haven’t told Serena what I do for a living.”

  Ever since his grandmother had been scammed by some former tenants who’d skipped out on paying a few years ago, he’d been keeping an eagle eye on her. She’d suffered a health scare at the time—the doctors thought she had cancer. Thankfully it turned out to be a minor problem that was cured, but she’d been weak and off her game.

  Afterward, she and Logan had come up with a deal. Grandmother would give him the name of anyone interested in renting from her or working with her and he would do a full background check, besides checking out references, to make sure they were on the up-and-up. It had turned out well for both of them. She hadn’t been duped again.

  “I imagine keeping her in the dark about our conversation will make it easier to do your job. And no, I haven’t said a word, so she won’t find out from me. I wanted you to win her over on your own merit, not from my glowing recommendation.

  “I know you have your reasons why your life in Atlanta is private from your life here, even though I would love to brag on you. I really wish you’d open up more, but that’s your choice, so mum’s the word.

  “But, Logan, go easy with respect to Serena. She’s a lovely, smart young lady and you could do worse than find a woman like her.”

  The jury was still out on that call.

  “I have to ask, are you working this hard to get Reid married off?” Logan’s brother had been trying to avoid their grandmother’s machinations as strenuously as he had. The difference was, Reid lived in Golden, in close proximity to their grandmother’s interference, while Logan thankfully lived an hour south.

  His grandmother shook her head. “I haven’t found the right woman for your brother.” She pointed at Logan. “But don’t you worry—there’s a woman out there for him, and one for you.”

  “And on that note,” Logan said, rising and scooping up the now empty cups to throw in the trash, “I say we get to that meeting. Father hates it when we’re late.”

  “Yet you’re tardy at least ten to fifteen minutes every time.”

  Logan offered a forced smile. “What can I say? I love to create tension.”

  Grandmother sighed as she collected the folder to return to her purse. “Well, you’re very good at it.”

  “Hey, we all have our thing.”

  Once she rose, he hooked her hand through his arm and escorted her the three blocks to the family office. They walked slowly. It was a muggy afternoon, the last dog days of summer. September was half-over and he couldn’t wait for the temperatures to drop and the leaves to change color. Autumn had always been his favorite season growing up, until...

  As they arrived at the two-story office building, his grandmother squeezed his arm. “I’d tell you to behave, but I know you won’t listen.”

  Grinding his back molars, he remained quiet. These meetings were important to both his brother and grandmother, and that was the only reason he still attended. He really didn’t care what his father thought about him. Nothing would make him respect the old man again, so he didn’t even try. But he did love the woman who connected him to his family and would do anything for her, including sit in the same room as his father.

  It all boiled down to family love and honor, he supposed. He’d never be the Masterson team player his father wanted him to be, but he was honest enough with himself to know that was okay. He didn’t want any ties to the empire. Nor would he ever be a carbon copy of his father. The older man’s lies had dictated that Logan would be his own man.

  So for now, he’d go along with everyone, but then ferret out Serena Stanhope’s secret.

  As the office’s glass door closed behind him, he focused his gaze back down Main Street. The owner of Blue R
idge Cottage was hiding something, and it was going to be his great pleasure to expose the truth.

  CHAPTER TWO

  WRAPPING HIS HAND around the doorknob to escape the boardroom after the long meeting, Logan cringed when he heard a deep voice. “Son, a moment, please.”

  Almost made it.

  He closed his eyes for a brief second, loosened his grip on the knob and turned. Waited.

  “You didn’t say much during the meeting.” His father spoke in an authoritative voice. “I wanted your opinion on the bid for that parcel of land in Atlanta.”

  There was a reason Logan didn’t contribute. He wasn’t involved in the day-to-day running of Masterson Enterprises, nor did he care to be. His PI business was gaining momentum, so his energy went toward that future, not one with ties to the past.

  “Whatever you think is fine.”

  His father, tall, like himself, with thick, dark hair streaked with gray, struck a commanding pose. His success came from the fact that he didn’t back down, which essentially meant making people cower until he got his way. Not a business model Logan would ever choose to adopt, but it worked for Arthur Masterson.

  There had been more than one argument while he was growing up, when Logan refused to give in to his father’s demands. Tensions had come to a head when Logan found out his parents had lied to him about the circumstances surrounding his birth. After his father made excuses for brushing aside the truth, Logan joined the military. The two hadn’t agreed on any one thing since.

  “When are you going to get your head into the game, Logan?”

  Reining in his temper, Logan kept his tone even. “We’ve had this conversation a dozen times. I’m here for Grandmother, not to be part of the behind-the-scenes operations. You have Reid for that. I don’t know how much clearer I can make it that I’m not interested.”

  “There will come a day when you’ll need to give up that hobby of yours and come home to help Reid with the company.”

  Hobby? Logan was good at what he did. Had started his agency from the ground up. Nothing had been handed to him, not even the seed money his grandmother had loaned him. He’d paid it back, with interest. “You’re not helping your case, Dad.”

 

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