by Nan Dixon
“What can I do?” Bess asked.
Abby looked around. “Finish cutting fruit. Then we’re done.”
Bess washed up.
Abby came over to him. “Thank you for everything. I think I have enough help now.”
“Will you be okay?” he asked. “Today?”
She held up her left hand. That burn wasn’t as bad as the one on her right. “I’ll be able to work with one hand with Cheryl’s help.”
He pulled her into a hug. He couldn’t stop himself. “I need to get back to Boston.”
She stood in his embrace. Finally, her arms wrapped around his waist.
Was this the last time he would hug her?
“When you get back, we should talk,” she said.
He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. It was time to make a clean break. “Of course.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rule #15—Fitzgerald House is important, but family is everything.
Abigail Fitzgerald
GRAY YANKED OFF his tie and threw it on his attorney’s conference room table. He’d been back in Boston for two days. If he had to have another lunch with potential partners he would rip out his hair.
He’d rather be with Abby, but every time he called, she sounded fine. Somehow she’d turned the corner on letting people help her. All it had taken was burning her hands.
Phillips looked up from the document he was reviewing. “Did Fredrick agree with the terms?”
“Finally.” Gray moved to the coffeepot and poured a cup.
The project was coming together. He could almost taste success, so why did it taste so damn bitter?
Jacob, Gray’s attorney, bustled into the room waving a sheath of paper. “We’ve got Fredrick’s agreement.”
“That was fast.” Phillips tipped back in his chair.
“I told him the deadline was three o’clock.” Gray leaned forward. “Let’s get this bid finalized. I’m heading back to Savannah.”
Back to tell Abby he would be returning to Boston for good.
The three-page document he signed didn’t reflect the money and time he’d already poured into this project. He had to get the Whaler just to keep his mind off everything he’d be giving up when he left Savannah.
Jacob’s assistant faxed the offer and handed everyone a copy of the confirmation.
They talked about next steps until Jacob’s phone beeped. “The courier’s delivered the originals.”
Gray nodded.
“Now we wait,” Jacob said.
Phillips slapped his hands on the tabletop. “Good luck.” He shook Gray’s hand. “Can’t wait to start work on that warehouse.”
“Thanks for everything.” Gray started to gather up his files and stuff them into his briefcase.
“Got a minute?” Jacob asked.
Gray checked the time and sat back down at the table. He still needed to pack. “Fifteen.”
“I got a call from the Fitzgeralds’ attorney.”
“Good.”
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Jacob pinched his lips together, then blurted out, “Have you lost your mind?”
Gray gave a tiny smile. “I messed up her life. I need to make it up to her and her family.”
“Her?”
“Abby.” His throat tightened around her name, as if it wanted to hold her in.
“That’s the oldest one, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You could earn more on your investment if you put the money in Certificates of Deposits and they pay nothing.” Jacob paced the conference room. “I’m not your accountant, but between this and that mortgage you took on, I have to say you’re making terrible investment decisions.”
“These are the best investments I’ve ever made.” Gray believed that more strongly than he’d ever believed anything.
“You’re earning next to nothing on these properties.” Jacob held up his hand.
“It doesn’t matter. I want to help the family succeed.”
“I strongly advise against the contract for deed.”
“I hear you.” But Gray wasn’t about to change his mind. He was finally doing something right. “Keep the terms as I dictated.”
“You’re crazy.” Jacob shook his head. “You’ve changed since you were in Savannah.”
“God, I hope so.”
He hoped he was a better person for knowing Abby. He hoped he’d learned how to be a better son to his parents, a better brother to his sister. Hoped he’d learned that his money didn’t solve problems. Then he might be a better person someday.
Those lessons had only cost him Abby.
* * *
ABBY ENTERED INVOICES one-handed. Slow, but over the past two days she’d almost caught up with all the data entry for the month. No one was letting her work in her own kitchen.
Footsteps in the hall had her looking toward the doorway.
“Samuel.” It was good to see him back working on the third floor, at least for a few days.
“Hey, Abby. Sorry about your hands.” He leaned against the door frame.
She flexed her left hand. “They’re healing.”
“Just be more careful. Who will cook my anniversary dinner if you’re hurt?”
“I’d figure out a way.” She leaned back in her chair. “Did you need something? Cheryl left sandwiches in the kitchen for you and the crew, right?”
“We polished those off, thanks.” He shook his head. “I wanted to know who’s been upstairs.”
“On three?”
He nodded.
She shook her head. “No one.”
Samuel scratched his chin. “You need to come and see this.”
Abby didn’t ask questions. She followed Samuel up the stairs, dreading what she would find. Did they have more water damage? Had some animal gotten in?
Samuel pointed into the Lady Bird Johnson room.
“It’s almost done.” She smiled at him. The last time she’d checked, the bathrooms had only been framed in. Now the drywall was hung.
He frowned. “My team didn’t do this. I checked with Nigel. He hasn’t been up here working.”
He led her into every room, showing her more work that his team hadn’t done.
“It has to be your crew.” Abby tapped her fingernail against her lip. “No one else has a key.”
He opened the door to the Lincoln room. All the plaster was off the ceiling and walls. New drywall had been hung on half the walls. The room had potential. “We didn’t do any of this. And the Dumpster’s full. Someone’s put in a lot of hours up here.”
“Was it Daniel?” She leaned against the hallway wall, a little light-headed.
“No. I checked with him.”
Gray. She inhaled. How many nights had he come to dinner with dust in his hair? And then left without his normal cognac, saying he’d be down later. Her heart beat a little too fast. For weeks he’d been working on her B and B. He’d done this after she’d broken up with him. “I think I know who it was.”
“We’ll frame in the bathroom here and finish the drywall. But we can get the tapers in this week. I was worried we were behind schedule, but your guardian angel kept us on track.”
Guardian angel. She headed back down the stairs. Was that what Gray was?
She leaned back in her desk chair. Gray had been working on Fitzgerald House—and never told her.
She pushed her hair off her face with the back of one hand. Why had he helped her? He’d put in hours of work. Why had he kept it a secret?
Because she would have thrown his help back in his face. Made him stop. She dropped her head to the back of her chair.
Gray was right. She didn’t know how to ask people for
help. She couldn’t even accept it when it was offered.
He’d been right about so many things. They were never going to get Carleton House. She’d used the offer he’d made on the property to push Gray away—because she’d fallen in love with him.
She stared at the ceiling. She’d pushed Gray away because she’d expected he’d hurt her.
And he’d been secretly working on Fitzgerald House.
Actions speak louder than words. How many times had she thrown that phrase in his face?
He really did love her. And she kept pushing him away, insisting he was hiding behind his money.
Her stomach twisted. She’d been awful to him, judging him based on her father and Maurice.
She’d thrown hateful words at him, but she’d been the one who’d been hiding. Hiding because she’d assumed he would hurt her.
Her lips trembled. She didn’t want to lose Gray. She wanted to go back to the moment when he’d said he might be in love with her. She wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him she was absolutely in love with him.
Could they find their way back to each other?
“Hey, Abs.” Bess and Dolley filled her office doorway.
She checked the time. Three o’clock. “Shouldn’t you two be working?”
“We need to talk.” Dolley’s usually animated face was stern.
Since Abby’s office didn’t have guest chairs, they moved into the kitchen. Bess brewed a pot of tea, and Dolley piled a stack of pillows under her right hand.
“How are you?” Bess asked, sitting next to her on the love seat.
Abby flexed her fingers and winced. “Healing.”
“Not quickly enough for you.” Bess rubbed her back, her touch as soothing as the tea she’d brewed. “I looked for healing herbal teas I could make you, but couldn’t find much. Everything was a topical application. I brought you some chamomile tea to help you sleep.”
“Thanks.”
Dolley turned away from the window. “Have you talked to Gray?”
Abby’s body warmed at his name. “Last I knew, he was still in Boston.” Her sisters stared at each other. Bess nodded to Dolley.
A chill zipped through Abby. “What?”
Bess touched her shoulder. “Has he talked to you about Carleton House?”
The chill settled like ice in her stomach. “No.” She shook her head. “I must have been dreaming when I thought we could get the property.”
“With Lennertz in charge, we didn’t have a chance,” Dolley said.
“Have you heard something about Gray’s plans?” Abby asked.
Dolley nodded. Her uncharacteristic quiet made Abby lean into Bess’s shoulder for support.
“He’s going ahead with the renovations you and Samuel developed,” Dolley said.
“He’s going into the B and B business?” Dolley couldn’t have heard this right. Gray wouldn’t do this to them, to her. Not when she’d started to believe in him. “I don’t believe you.”
“He’s not going to run a B and B.” Dolley shook her head. “He’s making all the investments, all the improvements. Then he’s offered to sell us the house. On our terms. As a contract for deed.”
“What?” She grinned. “He’s a wonderful, foolish man.”
Bess turned and looked Abby in the eyes. “There’s more.”
Abby looked between her two sisters. More? The only way she could be happier was if Gray planned to stay in Savannah. She couldn’t picture living her days without Gray by her side.
“His car is out front. He’s packing.” Dolley’s voice was too solemn. “A couple of days ago, he told me he has to leave so he’ll never hurt you again.”
“Leave?” Her hands started to shake.
Dolley nodded.
Abby sank into the love seat. He couldn’t leave her. Not after letting her fall in love with him—forcing her to face her faults. Abby straightened her shoulders. She’d show her damn conniving Yankee he couldn’t make her fall in love with him and then just walk away.
* * *
GRAY SEALED THE box he’d packed. How had he acquired so much stuff in a few months?
He lined up the condo folders in another box and then added the Carleton House files. He needed to talk to the Foresters and have them develop official blueprints and a bid. Then he’d have the Foresters meet with the Fitzgeralds.
He could do all this remotely, because seeing Abby and not being able to touch her would kill him.
He moved into the bedroom and emptied the dresser, stuffing clothes into his open suitcase. He needed to finish this and get out.
His fingers caught something stuffed in the back of the drawer. He pulled it out. Purple. Soft. Abby’s scarf. He sank to the bed and raised the cloth to his nose, wanting to capture Abby’s scent one last time.
He inhaled, drawing in her spicy, citrusy fragrance. He rubbed the silky fabric on his cheek. Then he folded the scarf and tucked it carefully into his briefcase.
There was a pounding at his door. Five sharp smacks. Then five more.
He frowned. No one knew he was here.
The pounding started again, and he yanked open the door.
Abby. His chest ached at the sight of her, fist raised, face stern in concentration.
She pushed past him. Stopping, she stared at the boxes. He followed her gaze to the bedroom, where his suitcase was half filled.
Her shoulders straightened, and she spun around, setting her hands on her hips. The thick bandage on her right hand gleamed against her blue shirt. “Do you think you can leave?”
“I...” What kind of question was that? “I need to leave.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” She stepped close and elbowed his side. “You have a contract until the end of July.”
“I planned on paying in full.” Her words hurt more than the little poke she’d given him.
“Oh, no, you don’t, Yankee.” Green flames sparked in her eyes. “You are not just up and leaving me.”
Leaving her? That didn’t make any sense. “I can’t stay. I can’t keep hurting you.”
“If you go north, who’s going to supervise the renovations on Carleton House?” Her lips pressed together. “I don’t have time. My sisters don’t have time.”
Abby knew about Carleton House. Knew about the deal he planned to make. “Dolley wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
“Give me a break.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s my sister.”
He raised and dropped his hands. “The Foresters will make sure everything meets your specifications. You’ll get your expansion.”
“I don’t want it.” She stepped in closer and tipped her face up to his. “Not without you.”
His mouth dropped open. She didn’t... She couldn’t...
She reached up and touched his cheek. “Not without you,” she repeated.
“What do you mean?” His voice cracked.
She walked away from him. “I always thought that what I needed to feel whole, to be a success, was to open Southern Comforts. People would know how great a chef I was. I’d be able to hold my head up high.”
“You’re a fantastic chef. You’re better than fantastic.”
She turned, a smile lighting her face. “Thank you. But you taught me something more important.”
His heart thumped in his chest. “What on earth could I teach you?”
She moved back and touched his face with her good hand. “That loving someone means more than any starred reviews or even the expansion of my business. Loving you is more...” Her eyes shimmered. “It’s just...more. More important, more fulfilling. More.”
Was this real? “You love me?”
She nodded.
Gray pulled her into his arms. Hope fluttered like a fire just st
arting to catch hold. “I love you, Abby.”
Her arms squeezed him hard. “I was hoping you’d tell me again. Last time I was—rude.” She looked into his eyes. “I love you so much.”
He swept the sofa clear, pulling her onto his lap. Hope blazed in a glorious flame now. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words.”
Gray captured her face and raised his mouth to hers. He brushed kisses on her eyes, her cheeks and the corners of her mouth.
“I’ve missed you, missed us.” Abby twined her arms around his neck.
Her mouth was sweet as her tongue mated with his. The pressure of her breasts against him was heavenly. Nothing mattered more than this woman curled in his arms.
“I assumed I’d lost you forever,” he breathed into her hair. “But you’re wrong. You’re the one who’s taught me.”
“What did I teach you?”
“How to share myself with the people I love.” He pressed another kiss against her tempting lips. “You showed me how to be part of a family. How to love, truly love someone without expecting—payment. You were right. I was hiding behind my money.”
“You’re more than your money,” she protested.
“I wasn’t. Not before you.”
“You’re wrong.” She pulled away and looked him in the eye. “Who did all the work on the third floor? Who helped get us out from under an oppressive mortgage?”
He started to shake his head.
She held up her injured hand. “Who taught me how to accept help and stop pushing people away? Who made sure Cheryl and Josh had a place to live? Who bought Carleton House when we couldn’t?”
He grinned. “I guess—me?”
“Yes, you, you crazy Yankee.”
He brushed his knuckles along her soft cheek. Then pressed his lips to the same spot. “I think you’re going to have to marry me, Abby.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I think I might just have to do that.”
“Is that a yes?” His heart pounded like a drum. He’d started the day resigned to giving Abby up. Now he might have a lifetime to prove how much he loved her.
“That’s a yes.” Joy bubbled in Abby’s voice.
He kissed her until they were both breathless. Pulling away, he cupped her face. “There’s more that I’ve learned from you, Abby. You taught me that love is unselfish. You taught me love is giving. And you and your sisters taught me that a family works together. That’s what I want. I want to be part of your family.”
