Trinity Falls

by Regina Hart

  “Then you’ll need to consult someone with much more wisdom than me.”

  “Who?”

  Darius gulped his soda. “I’d start with your mother.”

  Megan let herself into Ean’s townhome Tuesday evening with the key he’d given her two weeks earlier. She pressed a hand to her abdomen. The butterflies in her stomach must be hosting a rave. She dried her sweating palms against the thighs of her black jeans, then bent to haul her two stuffed suitcases—one at a time—across his threshold. She took her time shoving them into a corner beside the staircase. After locking the front door, she was out of delaying tactics. Megan took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. It was time to plead her case.

  She mounted the stairs, letting the sound of the shower lead her to the master bedroom. The water stopped as she crossed the threshold.

  Ean had set a change of clothes on the bed, stone gray slacks and the burgundy sweater she liked. A chill trailed down her spine. Where was he going? It was New Year’s Eve. With whom was he celebrating?

  Megan sank onto the foot of the bed and lifted his sweater. Was she too late? Had he given up on her?

  Ean emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a cloud of steam and nothing else. The scent of soap and shampoo trailed after him. He took her breath away. He appeared like a mythological hero—larger than life, brave, bold. She yearned to trace the sculpted muscles under his dark, damp skin, but this was too important. She couldn’t afford distractions.

  Ean stopped when he saw her. Surprise and confusion swept through his olive gaze. She was used to a warmer welcome.

  “Megan?” He sounded uncertain.

  Megan released his sweater and stood on shaky legs. She braced her calves against the mattress for support. “I’m sorry to barge in on you. I hadn’t realized you were on your way out.” She gestured with a trembling hand toward his neatly laid-out clothing.

  Ean’s attention dropped briefly to his bed before returning to her. He was silent for several long seconds. Was he trying to think of a way to ask her to leave?

  “How did you get in?” He crossed to the bed and began to dress.

  Megan’s eyes ate up his long legs and tight hips. She dragged her gaze up his muscled torso to his face. “You gave me a key to your townhome, remember?”

  “Oh yeah.” He pulled his slacks on over his underwear. “I thought you were a mirage.”

  What’s that supposed to mean? It was time to stop stalling. Megan wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’ve contacted a Realtor.”

  Ean seemed startled. “Why?”

  The sound of the zipper closing over his fly drained the moisture from her mouth. Megan remembered his question. “I’m putting my grandparents’ home on the market. I want to move in with you. I was afraid to, before. But I shouldn’t have let fear control my feelings for you. You were right.”

  “I was wrong.” Ean’s flat statement interrupted Megan’s halting admissions.

  “What?” Oh, God, did I wait too long? Did Ean not want her to move in with him anymore?

  “I was an ass.”

  “What?” Now she was thoroughly confused.

  “You were right. I was on my way to tell you that. I had no right to pressure you into moving in with me, making that kind of commitment in only two months.” Ean pushed his hands into the front pockets of his gray slacks. “We’ll go at your pace.”

  At her pace? Was he willing to give her another chance? Did he believe her now?

  Megan spread her arms. “But I’m ready to make that commitment to you. I do believe that you’ve come home to stay. But even if you haven’t . . . If you want to return to New York, or move to Philadelphia or Timbuktu—I’ll go with you.”

  Ean’s body froze. When he’d walked into his bedroom and found Megan sitting on his bed, he’d thought he was hallucinating. He’d thought all the nights of wanting her had caused his mind to snap. Now he thought he might be dreaming. “You’d leave Trinity Falls for me?”

  Megan brushed her hands over her eyes. “A house and a store are not more important to me than you.”

  Ean didn’t remember moving. But suddenly Megan was in his arms. He was holding her so tight and kissing her so deep. Her body against his, her heat seeping into his skin was healing the aches he’d borne over the past week. He tasted joy, relief, hunger—hers and his.

  He plunged his tongue into her mouth, seeking her response. She pulled him even closer, digging her fingertips into his shoulders. Ean lowered his left hand to her firm buttocks and squeezed. Megan pressed her hips tighter against his burgeoning erection. She was with him. She responded with him and to him. His blood rushed through his veins. He wanted her now; he needed her always. Ean cupped her hips to raise her against him. He started for the bed. Megan wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “You believe me now?” Megan’s breathy question confused him.

  “Believe what?” He laid her on the mattress and covered her body with his own.

  “That I know you’re staying in Trinity Falls. That I trust you. That our relationship is more than sex.”

  Ean raised himself on his forearms and looked into her hot chocolate eyes. “I believe you. But I want you to take your grandparents’ home off the market.”

  She gave him her long, slow blink, which always melted his heart. “But I want to move in with you.”

  He pressed a quick, hard kiss against her soft lips. “I want to live with you, too. But your grandparents left you that house. I’d rather we lived there, if that’s all right with you.”

  “I’d like that.” Megan’s smile started in her eyes. She cupped the side of his face. “Happy New Year, Ean. Welcome home.”

  Ean pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. “My home is in your arms, and that’s where I want to spend the rest of my life.”

  He lowered his head to seal his promise with a kiss. Tonight they’d celebrate their new beginning, the New Year and Trinity Falls.

  Trinity Falls Fudge Walnut Brownies

  Ingredients

  1½ cups of margarine

  1 cup cocoa

  1 teaspoon of nutmeg

  2½ cups of sugar

  2 teaspoons of vanilla

  4 eggs

  1½ cups of wheat flour

  2 cups of walnuts

  Preparation

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

  In one bowl, mix margarine, cocoa and nutmeg. In a separate bowl, mix sugar, vanilla and eggs, one at a time. Combine the contents of the first two bowls, then stir in flour and walnuts. Mix well.

  Spray a baking pan with nonstick cooking spray. Pour brownie mix into pan and bake for 30 minutes in a 350 degree oven. Cool for 30 minutes before cutting into squares.

  Don’t miss the next novel in the Finding Home series,

  Harmony Cabins

  On sale in February 2014

  CHAPTER 1

  Audra Lane strode with manufactured confidence to the vacation cabin rental’s main desk and faced the man she thought was the registration clerk. She curled her bare toes against the warm polished wood flooring and took a deep breath.

  “You’re probably wondering why I’m wearing this trash bag.”

  “Yes.”

  That was it. That single syllable delivered without inflection or emotion in a soft, bluesy baritone.

  Audra’s swagger stalled.

  Maybe that was his way. His manner wasn’t unwelcoming; it was just spare. He’d been the same when she’d checked into the cabin rentals in Where-the-Heck-Am-I, Ohio, less than an hour earlier.

  In fact, the entire registration area was just as Spartan as the clerk. Despite the large picture windows, the room seemed dark and cheerless in the middle of this bright summer morning. There weren’t chairs inviting guests to relax or corner tables with engaging information about the nearby town. It didn’t even offer a coffee station. Nothing about the room said, “Welcome! We’re glad you’re here.” There were only bare oak walls, bare oak floors and a tight-
lipped clerk.

  What kind of vacation spot is this?

  Audra pushed her questions about the room’s lack of ambience to the back of her mind and addressed her primary concern.

  She wiped her sweaty palms on her black plastic makeshift minidress. “I’d left some of my toiletries in my rental car. I thought I could just step into the attached garage to get them, but the door shut behind me. Luckily, I found a box of trash bags on a shelf.”

  She stopped. Her face flamed. If he hadn’t suspected before, he now knew beyond a doubt that she was butt naked under this bag.

  Oh. My. God.

  She’d ripped a large hole on the bottom and smaller ones on either side of the bag for a crude little black dress, which on her five-foot-seven-inch frame was very little.

  Audra gave him a hard look, but his almond-shaped onyx eyes remained steady on hers. He didn’t offer even a flicker of reaction. His eyes were really quite striking, and the only part of his face she could make out. When he’d checked her into the rental, she’d been too tired from her flight from California to notice his deep sienna features were half hidden by a thick, unkempt beard. His dark brown hair was twisted into tattered, uneven braids. They hung above broad shoulders clothed in a short-sleeved dark blue T-shirt. But his eyes . . . they were so dark, so direct and so wounded. A poet’s eyes.

  How could the cabins’ owner allow his staff to come to work looking so disheveled, especially an employee who worked the front desk? Did the clerk think he looked intimidating? Well, she had been born and raised in Los Angeles; he’d have to try harder.

  Without a word, the clerk turned and unlocked the cabinet on the wall behind him. He chose a key from a multitude of options and pulled a document from the credenza.

  “Sign this.” He handed the paper to her.

  The form stated she acknowledged receipt of her cabin’s spare key and would return it promptly. Audra signed it with relief. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He gave her the key.

  A smile spread across her mouth and chased away her discomfort. Audra closed her hand around the key and raised her gaze to his. “I don’t know your name.”

  “Jack.”

  “Hi, Jack. I’m Au . . . Penny. Penny Lane.” She continued when he didn’t respond. “Thanks again for the spare key. I’ll bring it right back.”

  “No rush.”

  “Thank you.” Audra turned on her bare heels and hurried from the main cabin. That had been easy—relatively speaking. At times, she’d even forgotten she was wearing a garbage bag . . . and nothing else. It helped that Jack hadn’t looked at her with mockery or scorn. He’d been very professional. Bless him!

  Jackson Sansbury waited until his guest disappeared behind the closed front door. Only then did he release the grin he’d been struggling against. It had taken every ounce of control not to burst into laughter as she’d marched toward him, the trash-bag dress rustling with her every step.

  He shook his head. She’d been wearing a garbage bag! Oh, to have seen the look on her face when the breezeway door had shut behind her—while she’d been naked in the garage. Jackson gripped the registration desk and surrendered to a few rusty chuckles.

  It had been so long since he’d found anything funny.

  He wiped his eyes with his fingers, then lifted the replacement key form. A few extra chuckles escaped. She’d signed this form, as well as the registration form, “Penny Lane.” Jackson shook his head again. Did she really expect him to believe her parents had named her after a Beatles song?

  Jackson lifted his gaze to the front door. She’d given a Los Angeles address when she’d registered. Who was she? And why would someone from Los Angeles spend a month at a cabin in Trinity Falls, Ohio, by herself and under a fake name?

  “Benita, when you told me you’d made a reservation for me at a vacation cabin rental, I thought you meant one with other people.” Audra grumbled into her cellular phone to her business manager, Benita Hawkins.

  Although still tired from the red-eye flight from California to Ohio, she felt much more human after she’d showered and dressed.

  “There aren’t any people there?” Benita sounded vaguely intrigued.

  “The only things here are trees, a lake and a taciturn registration clerk.” Audra’s lips tightened. Her manager wasn’t taking her irritation seriously.

  “Hmmm. Even better.”

  Audra glared at her phone before returning it to her ear. She could picture the other woman seated behind her cluttered desk, reviewing e-mails and mail while humoring her. “What do you mean, ‘even better’?”

  “I told you that you needed a change to get over your writer’s block. You’re having trouble coming up with new songs because you’re in a rut. You see the same people. Go to the same places. There’s nothing new or exciting in your life.”

  That’s harsh.

  Audra stared out the window at the tree line. She’d noticed right away that none of the windows had curtains. The lack of privacy increased the rentals’ creepiness factor.

  A modest lawn lay like an amnesty zone between her and a lush spread of evergreen and poplar trees that circled the cabin like a military strike force. In the distance, she could see sunlight dancing off the lake like diamonds on the water. But the area was isolated. Audra didn’t do isolated. She’d texted her parents after she’d checked into the resort to let them know she’d arrived safely. Maybe she should have waited.

  “This place is like Mayberry’s version of the Bates Motel.” She turned from the window. “How is this supposed to cure my insomnia?”

  “Writing will cure your insomnia.”

  “Have you been to these cabins?”

  “No. When I was growing up in Trinity Falls, Harmony Cabins went into bankruptcy and was abandoned. They’ve only recently been renovated.”

  “I’m coming home.” But first, she’d take a nap. The red-eye flight was catching up with her.

  The cabin itself was lovely. The great room’s walls, floors and ceiling were made of gleaming honey wood. The granite stone fireplace dominated the room. But a large flat-screen, cable-ready television reassured her she’d have something to do at night. The comfortable furnishings that were missing from the main cabin were scattered around this room: an overstuffed sofa and fat fabric chairs. The décor was decidedly masculine, though; it was black leather and dark plaids. That would explain the lack of curtains at the windows.

  “You promised me you’d give it thirty days, Audra.” The clicking of Benita’s computer keyboard sounded just under her words. “I sent the rental a nonrefundable check for the full amount of your stay in advance.”

  Audra frowned. Benita’s check had allowed her to register as Penny Lane. “It was your check, but my money. If I want to cancel this anti-vacation vacation, I will.”

  They both recognized the empty threat. The cost of a monthlong stay at a cabin rental was too much to waste.

  Benita’s exasperated sigh traveled almost twenty-five hundred miles and three time zones through the cell phone. “You owe the record producer three hit songs by the end of the month. How are they coming?”

  Audra ground her teeth. Benita knew very well she hadn’t made any progress on the project. “How can you believe this place is the solution? You’ve never even been here.”

  “Do you really think I’d send you someplace that wasn’t safe? I have family in Trinity Falls. If there were serial killers there, I’d know it.”

  Audra tugged on her right earlobe. She was angry because she was scared, and scared because she was outside her comfort zone. “I don’t want to be here. It’s not what I’m used to.”

  “That’s why you need to be there. And this is the best time. Trinity Falls is celebrating its sesquicentennial. The town’s hosting a Founders Day celebration at the beginning of August. I’ll be there.”

  “One hundred and fifty years. Big deal.”

  Benita chuckled. “I’ll see you in a month.”

&nbs
p; Audra stared at her cell phone. Benita had ended their call. “I guess that means I’m staying.” She shoved her cell phone into the front pocket of her jeans shorts and turned back to the window. “In that case, I’ll need curtains.”

  The chimes above the main cabin’s front door sang. With three keystrokes, Jackson locked his laptop and pushed away from his desk. The cabins had had more activity today than they’d ever had.

  Jackson paused in his office doorway. It wasn’t a surprise to see that the chair of the Trinity Falls Sesquicentennial Steering Committee had returned to his front desk. Doreen Fever was a determined woman.

  “Afternoon, Doreen.” He knew why she was there. She wanted every citizen to be involved in the festivities surrounding the town’s 150th birthday. The problem was, Jackson wasn’t a joiner.

  “I’m still amazed by how much you’ve accomplished with the rentals in so little time.” Doreen gazed around the reception area.

  “Thank you.”

  Doreen was the town’s sole mayoral candidate. She also was the artist behind the bakery operation of Books & Bakery and the mother of a former schoolmate—though Doreen looked too young to have an only child who was just two years younger than Jackson. Her cinnamon brown skin was smooth and radiant. Her short, curly hair was dark brown. And her warm brown eyes were full of empathy. Jackson didn’t want anyone’s empathy. Not even someone as genuine and caring as Doreen.

  “I hear you have a lodger.” Doreen folded her hands on the counter between them.

  “Not by choice.” How did the residents of Trinity Falls learn everyone else’s business so fast? His guest hadn’t even been here a full day.

  Confusion flickered across Doreen’s features before she masked it with a polite nod. “A young woman.”

  “I noticed.”

  “I’m glad to see the cabins’ renovations are going well and that you’re taking in customers.”