Epic Love Stories--Complete Box Set

by Kelly Moore

  “Are you okay?” Will asks.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I squeeze his hand under the table that is still resting on my thigh.

  He chuckles, knowing damn good and well what effect it had on me. He removes his hand and continues with his conversation.

  His mother, on the other hand, turns and focuses all her questions on me as Will’s father stares and listens to every word.

  “I’m curious, how did you and Will meet and how long have you known each other?”

  “We met this morning on the train.”

  “My son must have charmed you,” his father says without cracking a smile.

  “Oh stop, leave her alone,” Caroline says. “Ignore him,” she says, squeezing his hand.

  “He is quite charming,” I answer him.

  “Are you down here to visit family?”

  “No. I was on my way to Southport for the summer. I rented a house right on the water.”

  “I love Southport. It’s such a quaint little town and secluded from the neighboring cities.”

  “What kind of work do you do that allows you to have the summers off,” his father asks.

  “I’m an elementary school teacher.”

  “That’s such a noble profession. Do you have any children of your own?” she asks.

  “No. I think the twenty children in my class have taken care of me wanting any kids right now.” I laugh out.

  “You should cancel your plans and stay on Tybee Island. It’s a barrier island about eighteen miles from here. It’s secluded too and absolutely breathtaking. I could get you a sweet deal on a little one-bedroom house there. I trade favors with the owner. He and his wife love to come into town once a month, and I put them up in one of our bed and breakfasts.”

  “I don’t know…I’d lose my deposit.”

  “Yes, but you would have this place for free all summer.” She pats my arm.

  Chapter 3

  “It’s getting late, Mother,” Will tells her when he sees a yawn escape my lips.

  Everyone retired into the grand living room area after dinner. Will’s dad has perched himself in a leather recliner, and I’ve been nestled on the end of the couch with Will and his mother.

  “I know dear, but I’ve loved visiting with you. It’s been a while since you’ve been home.” She lays her head on his shoulder.

  “Tomorrow is going to be a long, hard day for all of us, and we should try to get some sleep.”

  She wipes a tear that’s running down her cheek and Will kisses her forehead. “I know, Mom.”

  He gets up and shakes his dad’s hand, bidding him good night. I find it odd how different he is with each parent. His mother is sweet and talkative and dotes all over Will. His dad seems to stare off into the distance a lot and speaks very little except to Caroline. He didn’t even interact with Will very much. It makes me wonder why he treated the boys so differently according to Will. I mean, how could you not like Will? He’s adorable, well-mannered, smart, good-looking, and obviously loves his mother.

  He’s quiet as he takes my hand and leads me up the long staircase. “Are you okay?” I ask him as we stand in front of the guest bedroom.

  “Yeah. I guess it’s hitting me that Patrick is really gone.”

  I instinctively wrap my arms around his waist. My head fits perfectly under his chin. “I know this must be very hard for you and your family. I could see how strong you were being for your mother.”

  “My mom is one tough lady. She went through so much with Patrick, trying to help him. She’ll survive, but it’s my dad I’m worried about. Even with everything Patrick put him through, he lived vicariously through him.”

  I take a step back to look up at him. “Why’s that?”

  “Patrick was always a good athlete, the perfect student, and everyone loved him. Then there was me, the stupid one that struggled to read.”

  “You’re not stupid. I would say you’re very smart to have figured out how to deal with your dyslexia and graduate from law school.”

  “Yeah, well he never really saw it that way. My dad was an all-star quarterback in college and never struggled with anything. I, on the other hand, never really found interest in sports. I was too busy trying to figure out what was wrong with me.”

  “As far as I can tell, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you,” I say as I scan his body.

  He lifts my chin and places a soft kiss on my lips. Nothing heated, but very sweet and tender. “Don’t look at me like that again or I will take you back to my room,” he says with closed eyes as he presses his forehead against mine.

  I contemplate his words for a moment, wondering if that is something I could do. Before I can answer him, he kisses me one more time. “Good night, Mags,” he says and walks away.

  I feel an ache in my heart at him calling me Mags. My brother is the only one that ever calls me that. I slip into my room and call Phillip. I should tell someone where I am in case of any emergencies.

  “Hey, Mags. Did you make it to Southport safely?”

  “Um, actually, I’m in Savannah, Georgia.”

  “How did that happen?” He laughs. “That’s way further south.”

  “I met this guy on the train…and…I…well, he invited me to join him in Savannah for a few days.”

  “Maaaags, that’s not like you at all.” His voice goes up a few octaves when he drags out my name.

  “I know. It was totally spontaneous on my part.”

  “Please tell me you checked him out first.”

  “I did, and he’s not a serial killer.” I giggle. “He’s a lawyer in New York City.”

  “That’s even worse, Mags.” He chuckles.

  “No, it’s not. He’s a pro bono attorney.”

  “Great, so he’s poor.”

  “Money isn’t everything.” I don’t bother to tell him that his family is extremely wealthy from the looks of things.

  “I’m only teasing you. Have fun and get into a little trouble.”

  “I’m only here for a few days, and then I’m heading to Southport. There will be no time for trouble.” I laugh at him.

  “There’s always time for trouble. Love ya, Mags.” I can practically hear the trouble-causing smirk.

  “Love you too, Lip.”

  I change out of my clothes and hop into the massive bed that has cool, soft, silky sheets. I curl in tight, and it doesn’t take long until I fall asleep fast but wake up in a cold sweat. I dreamed I was in the hospital being wheeled in on a gurney, and all I could see were the fluorescent lights overhead as I was being rushed through the hallway. It seemed so real, but I’ve never been sick. I’m just grateful that I woke up before my nightmare became worse.

  It takes hours of tossing and turning, feeling uneasy, but I finally fall back asleep.

  The smell of bacon wakes me up. I roll over, and Will is sitting on the side of the bed with a tray of food in his lap. He’s staring at it like it’s something foreign. He’s in a pair of dark black slacks and a white button-down. I tuck the blanket under my chin and touch his shoulder. He jumps and nearly spills the food on the floor.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” I should be the one that’s jumpy with a man sitting in my bed.

  He rights the tray. “I came in here to wake you up and make sure you had breakfast before our day gets started. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to bother you. Then I sat here and thought about all the times Patrick and I would make our mother breakfast in bed when we were younger.”

  I touch his arm, and he turns toward me; it’s the first time I’ve seen him cry. He quickly wipes his face, trying to hide his tears. “Hey, it’s okay to cry.” I take the tray from him and lay it on the end of the bed and then I hold him in my arms as his tears soak my pajama top.

  I find my fingers toying with his dark silky curls that lay on the back of his neck. He sniffs and sits up, wiping his nose on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” There is an awkward
silence that falls between us. “That bacon sure smells good,” I say to try to lighten the mood.

  “Oh, yeah,” he grabs the tray, “Mom got up early and cooked for everyone.” He places the tray on my lap.

  “Wow, there is enough on here for four people,” I say, looking at eggs, bacon, hash browns, a pile of biscuits, and waffles.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I took a little bit of everything.”

  “If you think I can eat this much, I need to go on a diet.” I laugh.

  “Don’t you dare. Your body is perfect the way it is,” he says as his gaze travels over me, warming me.

  “Have you eaten already?”

  “No, I thought I’d wait for you.”

  I pull back the covers, exposing my legs in my short pajama bottoms. As usual, I have on a long-sleeved top. “Come join me.”

  He grins, slips off his dress shoes, and climbs in beside me, pulling the covers back up over us. I lay the tray in between us, partly on his lap and partly on mine. We devour the food without saying a word. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten breakfast in bed with a man before. It feels intimate.

  There is a knock on the door seconds before it comes flying open. Caroline is talking as she enters the room. I try to pull the covers up further and look over at Will to see his reaction. All he does is smile at me.

  “You two need to get a move on it. We have to be at the funeral home in an hour.” She lays a suit on the end of the bed. “I think Patrick would look better in this suit than the one I took for him earlier.”

  Will gets up and hugs her. “The one he is in will be fine, Mom.”

  “Well, you need to change your white shirt. You have jelly on the collar.” She points to it, and he looks down trying to see it. “Either that or it’s lipstick.” She winks at me and walks out.

  “I’m sorry. Sometimes she has no boundaries.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed that, but I really like her, and I love the way the two of you treat one another.”

  “Are you close to your mom?”

  I want to steer clear of the subject of my parents. “You know, I should really get dressed,” I say, hopping out of bed.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I need to change my shirt.” He’s looking down at the jelly stain on his crisp white collar. I walk over to him and place a soft kiss on his cheek. He raises his hand, and his fingertips trace where my lips were. Our eyes lock briefly, then I playfully push at his shoulder.

  “Go get ready.”

  I’m sure my light blue dress with sheer long sleeves is not fitting for a funeral, but I wasn’t planning on attending one when I left New York. Summer casual is all I brought with me so it will have to do. As I make my way down to the bottom of the stairs, my short black heels make a clicking noise on the shiny marble floor. I hear voices coming from the dining room and the sound of dishes clattering.

  Will’s mother is straightening his tie as children are scampering around the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement on the other side of the house. Will’s dad is entering a room across from the kitchen. I haven’t had a tour of the house yet, and I wouldn’t wander to any of the other levels, but I’m curious to see what else is in this mansion.

  I walk over to the door where his dad went, and the faint smell of cigar and leather hits me. His dad is sitting on a soft looking leather couch with his arm resting on the back and his feet on a glass coffee table. I try to walk out before he sees me, but he draws his feet to the floor when he hears me take a step backward.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Taylor, I guess I got lost.”

  “Please, come in, and call me Patrick.” He motions for me to take a seat on the couch with him.

  Patrick was named after him. Maybe that is the strong connection he had with him. I take a few steps and notice a large glass cabinet with rows and rows of books. The smell of the old leather-bound books has me wanting to touch them. I stand in front of them and admire his collection.

  “They are all first editions,” he says.

  My mouth gapes because they had to cost a fortune.

  “Do you like to read, Maggie?”

  “Yes, it’s one of my favorite things to do in my free time.”

  “Feel free to borrow any of them.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t. These are rare finds, and I’d hate to damage any of them.”

  “Books are made to be read, Maggie.”

  His tone is not as smooth as it was a minute ago. I turn toward him and walk to the opposite end of the leather couch. “I’m sorry about Patrick, Mr. Taylor. I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night at dinner.”

  He sits back like he was before I invaded his space. He’s really very handsome with a touch of gray at his temples and a smattering through his once dark hair. He’s neatly shaved, and you can clearly see the weight of the world on his face. Crow’s feet line his blue eyes, and there is a deep crease between his eyebrows. He kind of has that Paul Newman look, minus the twinkle in his eyes.

  “Thank you.” A deeper sadness settles in the lines of his face.

  The leather is so soft it doesn’t even make a crinkling noise when I sit near him. “Will has told me about how close he and Patrick were.”

  “Yeah, those two were thick as thieves when they were younger. Do you have any siblings?” He turns and faces me.

  “I have a brother who is a year older than me.”

  “Are you close?”

  “Yes. I can’t imagine not having him in my life. He’s a doctor.” A flash of Philip’s face with vacant eyes has my heart pounding. I have to stifle my moment of fear.

  “You sound very proud of him.”

  “I am.”

  “Patrick was always proud of Will.” He looks away when he says it.

  “That’s a good thing, right?” I lay my arm on the back of the couch.

  He picks up a picture that is resting on the side table next to him. “Patrick was easy to be proud of. He had straight As all through high school years and was the star quarterback. He had a full-ride scholarship to any college he wanted, but he chose his studies over football.” Pride permeates his eyes.

  “Sounds to me like Will made some pretty good choices, too.”

  He takes the picture in both hands and leans forward. “Then you don’t know him very well.”

  “I know that he struggled in school, yet he’s an attorney.”

  “A pro bono attorney,” he says when he looks at me.

  “I think that is very noble of him, don’t you?”

  “You don’t know what he gave up to be a lawyer who doesn’t make any money.”

  “I think that’s my story to tell, Father.” I didn’t hear Will come into the room. He’s standing a few feet from us in a black suit with his arms crossed over his chest. Anger is brewing on his handsome face.

  His dad stands and places the picture back in its spot and without another word, walks past Will and out of the room.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea that I’m here.” I’m on my feet. He lightly grabs my elbow, stopping me as I try to walk by him.

  “I want you here.”

  “Why, Will?” I search his face.

  He squares his body with mine. “Honestly, I don’t know. The moment I saw you on the train, I wanted to be near you. I wanted to get to know you.”

  “Are you going to let me get to know you?” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Yes, but not today.” He lets out a harsh breath. “I need to get through the funeral and mourn my brother, but I promise, I will let you in.” He leans at the waist and skims his lips down my cheek. Scarlet heat warms my body from his touch. What is it about this man that I barely know, that my body reacts to? He steps back, breaking our moment of contact. “We need to get going.”

  “I’m…sorry I don’t have anything else to wear.” I look down at my dress.

  “You look beautiful…I mean perfect.” A smile lights his face. He holds out his elbow for me to take. “Mom has a limo waiti
ng for us out front.”

  “Were you driven around in limos as a kid?” I ask as we walk through the house.

  “Yes, and we had maids and butlers too, but never a cook. My mom insisted on cooking for us. I remember when I was about ten years old, my father decided to hire a cook. My mom ran her out the first day because she didn’t know how to make homemade biscuits and sweet tea.”

  “She is truly from the South.” I giggle.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Sounds like she was a good mother.”

  “The best,” he says as he opens the limo door. I get in, and he slides in next to me.

  “Aren’t your mom and dad riding with us?”

  “No. Dad only shares his ride with my mother.”

  “That’s odd. You’ve never ridden in a car with your dad?”

  He strums his fingers on his chin. “Not that I can ever recall.”

  I want to ask if Patrick ever rode with him, but I don’t think now is a good time.

  He stares out the window the minute the limo starts to move. Watching him, I wonder if he’s thinking about his brother Patrick or whatever it is that his dad was alluding to. Just when I think he is lost in the distance, he reaches over and takes my hand, laying it in his lap. His thumb brushes up and down the back of my hand. It’s so gentle, I’m not even sure he is aware that he is doing it.

  Chapter 4

  As we step through the dark wooden doors of the funeral home, soft violin music plays through the speakers. The smell of fresh flowers and perfume floats through the air.