Found (Lost & Found Book 2)

by Scarlett Finn

  “I guess there’s just one more thing then,” she said, spreading her hands on his chest, enjoying his form.

  “What’s that?”

  “We need to make a decision.”

  “About?”

  Kissing him slow, she stayed close, their breath merging as she spoke. “Do we want our baby making to be fast or slow?”

  His lips curled a second before his broad hand swept up the back of her head in her hair and he flipped her onto her back, still cradling her. “We’ll have to try both.”

  “A lot,” she said, wrapping her legs around him. “Lots and lots of practicing both.”

  “I got it, you’ll get it.”

  Perfect. Life that night was better than any fantasy.

  TWENTY

  Turner had been impressed when Poppy told him she’d brought clothes and essentials down to the music room. The news that there was a shower in the bathroom was received well too. The music room had been her bedroom for a lot of years off and on; Grammie would never have seen her living without the essentials.

  Poppy had tried to think of everything so they wouldn’t have to rush back to the main house. Falling asleep with Turner was a dream and she’d do it whenever and wherever they could. Still, there was something more intimate about being able to drift off in the same sheets where they’d enjoyed each other.

  The alarm on her phone had gone off to wake them, but she hadn’t taken the thing off flight mode. Turner had to work and she had to show him that she respected his commitment, hence the alarm. But Poppy herself wasn’t ready to let the world into their bubble yet. Unfortunately, the world didn’t get her not-so-subtle hint.

  Her lover was still in the shower when the hammering started on the main door. With the hallway between their cavernous room and the entrance, the sound was muffled. No matter how hard Poppy tried, she couldn’t wish it away. Whoever it was, if they knew anything about the building, would know that the deck doors didn’t lock. Even if they weren’t sure that the building was occupied, a quick trip around to the other side would reveal the drapes were closed over the windows. That only happened when someone wanted to get some rest without being woken by the sun.

  Rather than be caught naked in their mussed sheets, Poppy forced herself to sit up and snagged Turner’s tee-shirt from the floor. The staff wouldn’t be knocking with such vigor. Checking if they wanted anything was their job, but so was discretion.

  Grammie wouldn’t be so energetic either. The eldest member of the Granger clan was so mischievous that she’d probably have bypassed the front door and come around to the deck just to get the drop on them.

  The knocking stopped before Poppy got to the door. Unlocking it, she hoped the person had given up and gone back to the house. Now that she was out of bed, joining Turner in the shower seemed like a good idea. They wouldn’t have long, but she’d relish every second with him that she got.

  When she opened the door to peek out, praying there’d be no one there, Poppy was disappointed. Preston was there, typing something into his phone, though not for long.

  “Poppy,” he said, bounding forward a step, his grin dominating his face. “We’ve got it.”

  “It?” she asked, tilting her head all the way to the side to release a snagged strand of hair from Turner’s tee-shirt. “What do we have?”

  “The silver bullet! The golden ticket!”

  She still didn’t follow. “I guess there are a lot of precious metals lying around the estate… Good for you, I’m glad you have it.”

  Whatever it was, Poppy figured it could wait and tried to close the door.

  Preston laid a hand on it to hold it open. “Trust me, Poppy, you want to hear this. Turner does too, is he around?”

  “He’s in the shower.”

  “I can wait,” he said, vibrating with excitement.

  “He’ll be late for work.”

  “He’ll want to hear this too.”

  It wasn’t like she could just close the door in his face. Tempting though the notion was. Releasing a frustrated sigh, Poppy backed away to let him in and led him into the main room. The bathroom door was still open, the sound of the shower signaled that Turner wasn’t done yet. She retrieved the clothes she’d brought for him from the closet and reached into the bathroom to put them on the vanity.

  “Honey,” she called out. “Your friend came to visit.”

  Warning him of company seemed only fair. If they were alone, he might come wandering out naked. Under normal circumstances, she’d encourage such behavior.

  “Doubt that will hurry him up,” Preston said.

  Poppy crossed the room to slip her legs under the blanket again. “He’s been in there a while; he’s probably almost done. Do we have to wait for him or can you just tell me?”

  The couple of wingback chairs by the deck doors were the only places to sit in the room, other than the piano stool. Preston pulled one of the chairs around to angle it to face the bed. The sound of the feet dragging on the beautiful wooden floor made her wince, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Violet had an affair with Trey Hanover.”

  She didn’t understand why that was news or why Preston would be excited about it. “I wouldn’t call it an affair, they dated on and off for years. When they were teenagers, again in her early twenties, I think. They were together for a while when she was modeling, he used to travel with her. They were a couple, not an affair. Why do you care about that?”

  “I don’t care about that,” Preston said, shifting to the edge of his chair and dropping his elbows to his knees to clasp his hands together. “Holden Abernathy cares.”

  That altered her perspective. “Holden cares,” she repeated. “Why? He knew Violet had a past.”

  Poppy didn’t know the specifics of their conversations. Still, Holden couldn’t have expected Violet to be a virgin; she hadn’t been locked in a tower waiting for true love’s first kiss.

  “From how I understand it, these guys have history. Abernathy’s on the cusp of forty, used to getting what he wants, when he wants… He’s not used to the women in his life screwing around with other guys.”

  Closing her eyes, Poppy crossed her legs beneath the blanket. “Screwing around? Violet hasn’t been with Trey for years.” Except the unflinching certainty in Preston’s deliberate gaze told a different story. “Oh my God, she was screwing around with Trey while she was with Holden?”

  “Hanover told her not to go through with it.”

  “The wedding? Because he was in love with her?”

  Poppy didn’t understand what Violet’s affair had to do with her or Holden’s actions at the altar. But being who she was, a tale of passion and romance was always going to draw her in.

  “Because Hanover and Abernathy have both been in negotiations with a third party regarding acquisition of assets. It’s all about business.”

  Well, that was disappointing. “They’re going after the same deal?”

  “Have been for a while, more than a year. Hanover thinks it will make him, get him out from his father’s shadow. Abernathy, as I’m learning is his way, just wants to win. He doesn’t need it, he just doesn’t want Hanover to succeed.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s younger, more attractive, used to screw his fiancée, who knows? The Hanovers have been edging deeper into the biotech field for a while, don’t think Abernathy likes them poaching from him.”

  “If the deals are out there, aren’t they fair game? It shouldn’t be seen as poaching… Unless Trey is making a point of chasing down what Holden wants for some reason.”

  “I don’t know,” Preston said, exhaling and sinking against the back of the chair. “It doesn’t matter. The point is they don’t like each other. The point is Violet was in both of their beds at the same time, planning her wedding to one, maybe feeding one or both of them information, I don’t know.”

  “What has that got to do with me?”

  “He wants to hurt her,” Preston said.


  “Why not just expose the affair? Tell the world about it.”

  “Because Abernathy wants to save face and because your family are still a lucrative option.”

  Ire struck her hard. “A lucrative option?” Poppy said, tossing the blanket aside. “I’ll show him lucrative option.”

  Before she could get out of bed, Turner appeared from the bathroom, clothed, but running his fingers through his damp hair. He took one look at her, then laid the next on his friend.

  Turner’s hands dropped to his sides. “What happened?”

  “Holden Abernathy is an asshole, that’s what happened,” Poppy said, leaping to her feet. “I’m going to his damn house. I’ll show up on his doorstep, maybe take the press train with me! See how he likes that!”

  Marching toward the door, Poppy fully intended to do exactly that. Anger burned so hot inside her that steam seemed to cloud her vision.

  “Whoa,” Turner said, sliding in front of her to block her route and take her upper arms. “You knew Abernathy was an asshole, you’ve known it a while.”

  “I’m a lucrative option,” she snapped. “Did you know that?”

  “I did,” he said, wearing a smile. “Why do you think we’re getting married?”

  No way Poppy was in the mood for jokes. “First—”

  “Look, whatever he did, we’re going to figure it out,” he said, walking her backward in the direction of the bed. “Whatever the plan, it’ll involve you less naked and alone.”

  It hadn’t even really registered that she was only wearing his tee-shirt, she hadn’t even combed her hair or brushed her teeth. Not that it mattered in the haze of her fury. If Turner hadn’t got in her way, Poppy would be calling for a car and dialing the tabloids.

  He sat her down on the end of the bed and turned to his friend.

  Preston filled him in. “Violet was screwing around with Hanover while she was with Abernathy.”

  “Who’s Hanover?” Turner asked.

  “Violet’s ex-boyfriend,” Poppy said. A question for the lawyer popped into her mind. “How do you know all this? How do you know any of it is true?”

  “I have a credible source.”

  Something the press would probably say just to goad a quote out of someone.

  “Who?” Poppy asked. “You can’t go around slandering my sister without good cause. If this is something out of one of those ridiculous magazines—”

  “This came from inside.”

  Inside? Poppy was confused, something Turner picked up on. “You got it from the staff or someone in the family.”

  “It doesn’t matter where I got it,” Preston said, standing up. “What matters is it’s true. It’s the reason for all of this. Violet humiliated Abernathy so he wants to humiliate her. This isn’t about Poppy. If Poppy went for it then that would work out even better, he’d still get to maintain business ties with the Grangers and keep on rubbing it in Violet’s face that he moved on to something better. He didn’t do grand and romantic with her, he’s really pulling out all the stops for Poppy. It can’t be easy for Violet to know he’s capable and just never bothered with her.”

  “If the staff knew this then the press would,” Poppy said. “Weren’t you just telling me we could have a spy in the halls? Unless your source was Tiller… But why would Tiller tell you and not me?”

  “Sometimes old timers are old school,” Turner said. “Figure things should be handled by the men. That the women need protecting.”

  “If Violet really was sleeping with her old boyfriend while planning her wedding to Holden then she caused this mess. Okay, so it’s not all her responsibility, Holden’s been a conniving, two-faced slime, but she has some share of blame.”

  “I’d say Abernathy wouldn’t want the truth being broadcast,” Turner said and frowned. “Which makes me wonder why the hell Tiller didn’t use this against him months ago. Why did he even let the wedding go ahead if he knew—”

  “It wasn’t Tiller,” Preston said. “And the truth didn’t come to light before the wedding, not to my source anyway.”

  “Who is your source?” Poppy asked.

  Not knowing would drive her nuts and irritate her paranoia. The anonymous source could be noting down all sorts of things. They could be watching, drinking in the drama, ready to reveal all to the highest bidder. Poppy couldn’t think of anything particularly shocking that she’d done that the world couldn’t know; that didn’t mean no one else saw it that way.

  “Yeah, spill,” Turner said. “Who told you all this?”

  “Hanover?” Poppy speculated. “Trey was here the other day… he didn’t stay long and why would he reveal the truth? What would be the benefit to him? If Grammie knew, I would know. She’s terrible at hiding things from me.”

  “You think,” Turner muttered.

  The implication she and her Grammie weren’t close pissed her off. Though that sensation was probably related to her previous anger.

  “She wouldn’t hide it from me and then tell Preston,” Poppy said. “Grammie isn’t close to Violet anyway. Violet doesn’t tell her things. Violet tells my mom things, but no way Mom would know this and not tell my father. If he knew then Tiller would know and this would’ve been cleared up months ago.” In the last words of her rant, Poppy hit on a truth. The only truth that made sense. Slowly, her attention crept up to Preston. “Oh my God.”

  “What?” Turner asked. “Baby?”

  “You slept with my sister.”

  “Violet?” Turner exclaimed.

  Poppy stood up. “Primrose. It was Primrose who told you, wasn’t it?” She sighed. “Sex loosens more than her morals. She can never keep a secret after an orgasm. That’s when the deepest darkest truths tumble out of her.” The middle Granger sister had history in that area. Usually the secrets Primrose revealed were more of the embarrassing variety than the profound. “How come she gets to have sex in the main house and I don’t?”

  “Her room’s on the third floor,” Preston said, his shoulders tense.

  “Shit,” Turner said. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is Ritchie’s shtick, I’d expect him to sniff out the only available female in the building. You’re supposed to have your head screwed on. How the hell did you… You’ve been here like four days.”

  But the Granger sisters had been locked up for longer than that. Her sister was used to male attention. Just a couple of weeks without Turner had been tough on Poppy. Primrose wasn’t used to going so long without a social life.

  “Did you use her?” Poppy asked. “For information?”

  If he used her for sex, Poppy wouldn’t like it. The chance that Primrose might have used him in the same way did sort of suck the righteousness out of that stance though.

  “No!” Preston declared, offended. “Neither of us planned it, it just happened. I didn’t know that she’d… Violet only told her a couple of days ago, she needed to process, someone to confide in.”

  “And here you are telling me,” Poppy said. “Did it occur to you to keep her confidence?”

  “We talked about the situation, about everything,” Preston said. “We were up all night.” Rather than look worse for wear, there was a glint in his eye. “Prim knows the truth is the best way to get Abernathy to knock his shit off. She wants her life back, just like you do.”

  “I have to talk to Violet,” Poppy said, thinking that wouldn’t be easy. “I’ll talk to Primrose first.” She went over to Turner, stopping when her body met his. “My sisters are not a buffet for your friends.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” he said, rubbing her arm.

  “Primrose took me to her room,” Preston said in his own defense. “I’m no sleaze.”

  “You know I’m gonna marry Pop,” Turner said. “Both you and your one night stand will be at the wedding. If we have kids, you’ll spend holidays together. Are you sure it was a smart move to fool around with a woman who you can’t just forget to call?”

  Preston blinked and faltered. “I don’t kno
w that it was a one night stand.”

  “Oh my God,” Poppy whispered, grabbing Turner’s hand in both of hers. “You’d be brothers. For real brothers.”

  After Turner took a moment to absorb the speed of her turnaround, he smiled. “You want me to kick his ass or not?”

  “If he’s a sexual user, yes. If he has feelings for her, he needs you.”

  “Need him?” Preston asked. “I’ve dated women before.”

  Poppy wound Turner’s arm around her neck to nestle against his side. “Not a Granger. We’re a special brand of woman. We need a special kind of nurturing.”

  “Don’t scare him, baby,” Turner said, kissing her head. “I’ll ease him in.”

  “Ha-ha, you’re both hilarious.” The lawyer wasn’t amused. “I don’t know what it is yet; we’ve only known each other a few days.”

  “Turner knew I was special inside of four days,” she said, slipping her flat hand into her lover’s back pocket. “Didn’t you, First?”

  “Sure did.”

  Just because he knew it didn’t mean he’d admitted it, to her or anyone else. Playing with Preston was too much fun to be bogged down by specifics.

  “We live a thousand miles apart,” Preston said.

  “So do Turner and I.”

  He laid an unimpressed glare on her. “You moved into his building.”

  “So buy a building and we’ll see if Primrose wants to move in.”

  “She can stay in the Venture,” Turner said. “In Grammie’s apartment.”

  “Perfect,” Poppy agreed. “Grammie won’t care about sex noises.”

  “I might,” Preston said, but was quick to hold up both hands to stall them before they could come up with anything else. “On the sex noises score, Tiller said Casey is due in today.”

  “Casey’s coming here?” Turner asked. “Does Zoey know?”

  “Tiller wants to know where to put her,” Preston said to her.