Just Like Heaven

by Lacey Baker

  Finally, he made it to the back parking lot of the church with a guttural burp and a silent prayer because he had to use the bathroom something terrible. At one point he fell to his knees, his bottle almost tipping over. He kept it upright even though he was having a hell of a time keeping himself in the same position. Struggling to get to his feet, he took a couple more steps then saw a man climbing into the Dumpster.

  “Hey! Hey! What you doing in there?” he asked.

  The man had just leaned into the Dumpster but turned back to look directly at Hoover.

  “What’s that on your head, boy? It’s mighty hot out here to be wearing a hat,” he said, blinking once, then twice to make sure that’s what he was seeing.

  The man didn’t answer but leaned back into the Dumpster and pulled out a bag. He dropped it onto the ground then reached inside again.

  “You stealing trash?” Hoover asked, moving even closer.

  He kicked the bag that was on the ground when he was standing right in front of the Dumpster. “What’s in here anyway? You gonna recycle this trash or something?”

  “Mind your own business, old man,” the man said, jumping down from the Dumpster with one more bag in his hand.

  “This here’s my town. What happens here’s my business,” Hoover told him and reached down to grab one of the bags.

  The man pushed him back so he stumbled and fell to the ground. Hoover dropped his bottle, liquor spilling onto the ground. “Goddammit all to hell!” Hoover yelled at the sight of the luscious brown liquid going to waste.

  “I said to mind your freakin’ business!” the man yelled, this time pointing a gun directly at Hoover.

  “Put your hands in the air!” someone screamed from a distance.

  “Drop the gun!” another person yelled.

  Hoover put his hands up quickly, his heart beating so hard and so loud he thought it might burst right through his chest. The man in front of him dropped his gun, and Hoover looked around to see men running toward him. He tried to get up, tried to say something, but at that moment the most pressing thought was that he’d finally used the bathroom.

  Chapter 26

  Preston couldn’t let her go.

  He’d stopped breathing the moment he heard the shots. Then there was shouting and he must have began running because the next thing he knew, he was inside the house. More shouting ensued as he made his way through the rooms, then something moved in his pocket. It was his cell phone.

  He didn’t bother to answer it but followed the noise to the back of the house. An agent was on his knees in front of her untying ropes. Preston pushed him out of the way and finished the job. When she was completely untied, Heaven threw her arms around his neck. Preston caught her and held on tight, so tight he was afraid he might actually hurt her.

  She held on to him, breathing heavily, crying he thought, which made his chest ache more. At his feet, Coco barked and jumped, pressing her paws to his leg. But he didn’t let Heaven go.

  “Pres, man, you can bring her out to the van,” Ryan said from behind him.

  “In a minute,” he said, his face still burrowed down in the crook of her neck. “In a minute.”

  “You’re crushing me,” she said in a weak voice a few moments later when they were alone.

  Preston shook his head. “I’m remembering you,” was his reply.

  “I’m in love with you,” was hers.

  * * *

  The initial reunion was put on hold as Preston brought Heaven and Coco in through the back basement entrance. They came up the steps and headed straight to her room without having to face the Montgomerys—or anyone else for that matter, thanks to Ryan and his team, who had taken on the task of informing the family and the local authorities what had happened.

  Hot water from the shower had poured over their skin, their hands on each other as if they were magnets inevitably bound to connect. There weren’t many words, only sighs and embraces that seemed more emotional than either of them had ever imagined.

  And when he lay her on the bed, slipping the towel from her body, Heaven reached out to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lowered himself over her.

  “I hoped that you would come for me,” she admitted. “I wasn’t sure, but I prayed.”

  He kissed her temples. “I knew,” he whispered. “I knew I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”

  “Why?” she asked, because she really needed to know.

  For weeks she’d been here in this town, in this inn owned by his family, and often in this bed with him. It was time she knew how he felt about it all. Originally, she’d thought this thing between them would play out and they’d go their separate ways. Then she realized her way was right here in Sweetland. That decision had changed the expectations for Heaven. She wanted things and she vowed to have them.

  One of the things she wanted was Preston Cantrell.

  “Why did I come for you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He waited a beat, staring down at her as if the words he needed to say would suddenly appear on her face.

  “I had to make sure you were safe,” he told her.

  “Why?”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw.

  “Because you mean a lot to me.” He paused, but before she could ask another question he kissed her. Just a light brushing of lips, a quick touch of his tongue to her bottom lip, and then he was pulling back to look at her once more.

  “Because before I met you I never thought I could feel this way about a woman.”

  Heaven waited a beat. Actually she waited through a couple of really loud and intense heartbeats before prompting him once more.

  She was going to ask him how he felt when she caught the faint twinkle in his eyes.

  “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

  He feigned innocence, of course. “Doing what?”

  Okay, she figured, if he wanted to play games. She reached between them, cupping his thick length in the palm of her hand. “You’re trying to tease me. Trying to make me ask you if you love me.”

  He swallowed hard—she could see his Adam’s apple move with the action. His eyes glazed as she stroked him from the base of his arousal to the tip.

  “But I’m not going to ask,” she said, her voice a little deeper as she moved beneath him, spreading her legs wider.

  “You’re not?” he managed even though she knew it was difficult.

  She massaged him slowly, loving the feel of his heated flesh in her hands. Then she moved a little faster, enjoying the hitch in his breath with her motions.

  “No. I’m going to make you tell me,” she said, licking her lips.

  His eyes lowered, that muscle in his jaw twitching again as he watched her tongue tracing her lips. She did it again and he groaned.

  “I’m going to make you tell me how it feels when I do this.” She rubbed her thumb over his tip, feeling the moistness from his arousal. At the same time she licked her lips once more.

  He hissed. “You know that feels good.”

  “I know,” she replied with mild triumph.

  She lifted her hips, guiding him to her center, and when she touched the tip of him along the crevice of her moistness, he cursed. She smiled.

  “How do you feel about that?” she taunted him.

  His initial answer was a thrust of his hips so that his tip slid inside her center seamlessly. It was her turn to gasp. She undulated her hips to keep him only partially impaled, then flattened her hands on his chest, her thumbs whispering over his nipples.

  “I feel like sinking deeper, taking us both to a place we desperately need to be.”

  “And?” she said, twisting her hips so that another inch of his length was inside her. “What else, Preston? Tell me how this makes you feel.”

  Then she lifted her face to his, touched her lips to his, her tongue to his, and kissed him with all the love and desire she had.

  Preston moaned, wrapping his arms around her so that she was n
ow pressed against his naked body. She lifted her legs and locked her ankles around his waist while he slid all the way inside her. He pulled out, then sank back in. Repeated that motion until Heaven had forgotten what she was asking him and why. He kissed her hungrily, then softly, with a longing she’d never felt from him before. He pulled his lips away from hers, their breathing erratic, his hips still moving, hers still meeting each of his greedy thrusts.

  “I love you, Heaven Montgomery,” he whispered. “I love being inside you. I love talking to you. I love looking at you. I just love you.”

  Her heart soared because those were the exact words she’d wanted to hear. Well, she hadn’t anticipated all of them, but the I love you part was the best. The way the words sounded in his silky-smooth voice, the way he looked down at her as he said them, all the while driving her mad with his tender thrusts. She wanted to scream and shout with joy. Instead she undulated her hips, pushing them into a faster pace, loving the feel of him, just simply loving him.

  * * *

  Preston had fallen. He felt it in his chest, the sense of being filled completely, like there was someone else sharing that space with him. There was no fear, the way his family would have thought. He embraced this newness, this next level they seemed to travel to. He embraced it totally, especially when she shifted so that he rolled over on his back.

  She straddled him—a position that seemed to be her favorite. He reached up and palmed her breasts as she settled herself over him and began steady motions that almost made his eyes cross. Her eyes were closed as she moved.

  “Heavenly,” he whispered over and over again, until they were both panting and riding that lustful high together.

  Their release came simultaneously, her body slumping over his. They remained quiet for endless moments, trying to catch their breath.

  Then Coco barked.

  And barked some more as she scratched against the door sending the message that she was ready to go out.

  * * *

  By eight o’clock Sunday evening, just about everyone in Sweetland knew about Heaven’s kidnapping, the shoot-out at the old haunted house, and Hoover’s close brush with death from the criminal element—the last was a direct quote from Marabelle Stanley and Louisa Kirk, otherwise known as Sweetland’s Action News Hotline. According to the pair there was a seedy criminal element lurking around Sweetland, and they were already calling for a town council meeting to see what they could do about it. So far, Mayor Fitzgerald hadn’t taken any of the gossip to heart.

  But Preston was beginning to wonder about the sudden influx of crime in Sweetland himself. The fact that this Johnny Tuscaverdi’s name had come up in two separate incidents could not be just a coincidence. Ryan had agreed and told Preston he would keep in touch with his investigation. He’d needed to get on the road immediately, though, with the two suspects they’d captured.

  He’d come down from Heaven’s room to find the inn full of people and Michelle ready to serve them all.

  “What’s going on?” he asked when he stopped her just before she could get into the kitchen.

  “Everybody wants to make sure Heaven’s all right. I told them she was taking a nap, but they wanted to wait. Savannah thinks it’s good for business to have them at the inn looking around at our new additions and the restaurant menu. She’s even out there talking about new packages that we plan to offer.”

  “What? We haven’t even solidified any of those packages yet. I still have meetings to schedule and contracts to draw up,” Preston protested.

  Michelle held up a hand. “Don’t worry, she’s not taking reservations, just putting out feelers. And I’ll tell you, from the whispers I heard, people think it’s a great idea. I know Drew is already on board, she’s just waiting for you to make everything legal.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “Does anybody realize that Heaven’s just gone through a traumatic ordeal here? The house is full of people and Savannah’s the new salesperson.”

  “Have you forgotten where we are? You know people in this town are as nosy as they come. And this is exciting news for Sweetland. They need to see Heaven to believe all they’ve been told so far. And believe me, Marabelle and Louisa are out on the front porch telling one whopping story after another.”

  It was Preston’s turn to shake his head. “I’d better go up and warn Heaven. She was worried about coming down to face her parents, but she has no idea about these other guests.”

  “I’ll send Raine up to tell her. I need you to get some more folding chairs from out of the basement.”

  Michelle seemed calm and resigned to the fact that they were entertaining half the town and their gossip about Heaven.

  “What are you feeding them? I know you weren’t prepared for a crowd like this,” he asked her before heading toward the basement door.

  “Now, you know me better than that. Gramma taught me to always be prepared for company. Quinn’s out there on the grill with some hot dogs and hamburgers I had down in the deep freeze. I’d already made a batch of potato salad for tomorrow’s menu, so I’ll just have to come in even earlier in the morning to replace it. Mrs. Brockington brought pecan pies, and Walt’s already set up a table out back where he’s shucking the oysters he caught this morning.”

  He nodded, not wanting to accept any of this, but knowing it was futile. This was how it was in Sweetland. Whenever something happened, they all showed up. Death, birth, marriage, divorce—it was all reason to get together and eat. With a shake of his head, he moved down the basement. Because what else was he going to do but help out?

  By the time he’d come back upstairs and put the chairs in whatever open spaces he could find around the house, Heaven was on her way down the steps. The first person to spot her was Mayor Fitzgerald, who immediately moved to get closer to her. Preston moved, too, figuring Heaven would need all the help she could get dealing with them.

  She wore a flowing white skirt and a yellow tank top. Her hair was loose, hanging to her shoulders. She looked fresh and pretty and not at all like a woman who had been kidnapped.

  “Ms. Montgomery, I’m Mayor Liza Fitzgerald. I wanted to personally meet you and to apologize for all the trouble since you’ve been in town. I assure you, things aren’t always this tumultuous here in Sweetland.”

  Liza Fitzgerald was a pretty woman, pale blue eyes and honey-blond hair that she’d pulled back with some type of headband. She’d married into the Fitzgerald family almost five years ago and was just recently elected mayor. Quinn had known her previously so she was a pretty good friend to the Cantrells.

  Heaven smiled. One of the prettiest smiles Preston had ever seen, he thought when he came to stand next to her.

  “Nonsense, Mayor Fitzgerald. It seems I brought this trouble here to your town. So actually, I should be the one apologizing,” Heaven told her as she shook the mayor’s hand.

  “Well, we’re just happy you’re safe and that the Cantrell boys are so quick and so connected in the law enforcement community that they could get help here so fast. I really can’t believe the FBI had to be called in,” Liza continued.

  “I’m very lucky to know such great men,” Heaven said, looking over the Preston.

  “Do your parents get a moment?”

  Both Heaven and Liza turned to the shrill voice. Preston immediately stepped closer to Heaven. But she moved away, going to her father to wrap her arms around him. Mortimer hugged his daughter, relief apparent on his face. Opaline watched from the side.

  She wanted to talk to Heaven, no doubt about her going back to Boston again. Preston now knew why it was so important to Opaline to have her daughter back in Boston and once again working for Larengetics. Heaven was now her meal ticket.

  “Why don’t we go into the kitchen so you can have some privacy,” Preston offered. “You’ll excuse us, Liza. I’m sure the Montgomerys would like a moment alone with Heaven.”

  “Of course, of course,” Liza said apologetically. “I completely understand and I didn’t mean
to monopolize your time. I’m sure all of the townsfolk would like to meet you and make sure you’re okay. Especially since I hear you’re going to make Sweetland your home.”

  “Yes, I am,” was Heaven’s reply. “I need to find a place to live, but I don’t think that’ll be too difficult. And I’d love to meet everyone.”

  Then she looked over to her mother. “But there’s something I need to take care of first.”

  Heaven reached for Preston’s hand as she turned to head toward the kitchen. He took it and could feel the burn of Opaline’s eyes on them as they walked ahead of them out of the room.

  * * *

  The moment they were in the kitchen Opaline pounced.

  “I fail to see why you are continuing with this silly notion of living in this place. You were meant for bigger and better things, Heaven.”

  This was the voice, the one Heaven heard even in her dreams, directing her, coercing her, driving her absolutely crazy.

  “Now, wait a minute, Opal. I’ve been giving this some thought,” her father interrupted. “If this is where she’s happy, this is probably where she should be.”

  He didn’t do that often—speak up on Heaven’s behalf—but Heaven found it comforting nonetheless. She’d been so happy to see him a few moments ago, not realizing how the thought of actually never seeing someone again could affect her. In the hours that she’d been held she’d thought a lot about Preston and the possibility of never seeing him again. A little less thought had gone into her parents, and when she did think of them it had been Mortimer who had garnered most of Heaven’s concern.

  The look her mother cast him after his remarks would have made anyone else cringe. But by now, both Mortimer and Heaven were used to Opalne’s expressions. Nothing either of them did seemed to please her, so at some point they should both cease trying.

  “Why do you want me in Boston so badly, Mother?” Heaven asked finally.

  If she was surprised at the question, Opaline didn’t show it, but folded her arms carefully in front of her as she replied, “It is where you belong.”