His pauses for a moment and then says, “Music was the only thing that cut through the noise for me. That and my job. The Seattle PD gave my life meaning. Gave me direction … even as a kid. It gave me something to admire and aspire to. A goal to work toward. And once I reached that goal, it gave me a sense of belonging and a purpose.” He shrugs his shoulders again, shaking his head slightly. “I honestly don’t know where my life would be today without those two things.”
His words tug at my heart. Imagining him as a lonely, troubled, angry teenager – and then an equally lonely, troubled, angry young man – still reeling from his part in his father’s death and contemplating suicide … the whole thing is just so sad to me. “What’s the third thing?” I ask softly after a slight pause, looking at him with a puzzled frown.
“What?”
“Earlier, you said music was one of three things that saved your life. And you just implied the job is the second thing so, what’s the third?” I ask once again, and he blinks at my question and swallows hard. He won’t look over at me.
“You,” he whispers softly, deliberately focusing on the road, refusing to look at me, and I sense that he’s slightly embarrassed. My God. How amazingly sweet is he!
I say nothing because I’m just so taken aback by his words, and I feel a warm and fuzzy glow spread throughout my entire body. I squeeze his fingers as my hand rests in his and he lightly tightens his grip reflexively. Then he brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.
Our tender moment is short lived as Josh slows down and pulls into the long drive of our potential dream home, and I feel a small flutter of butterflies as I see the realtor, Mrs. Falk, step out of her car that’s parked beneath the portico. Josh pulls carefully into the circular drive and parks just outside the garage. I’m so excited as I climb out of the car, I almost can’t stand it.
We greet Mrs. Falk and Josh seems somewhat guarded and skeptical as we begin our tour of the house with the grounds. We walk around to the back of the house and we stroll hand in hand around the beautifully manicured yard, through the rose garden and down to the back of the property. I show him the greenhouse cottage and excitedly pull him inside.
“Isn’t it charming?” I squeal, spinning around in the bright, open space, and Josh beams at me.
“I can see why you’d earmark this spot for painting,” he says looking around. The place is only slightly larger than the studio in my old apartment and it gets so much light. And with the view of the garden on one side, and the view of the woods on the other … it’s perfect!
Glancing out the window of the cottage, I spot the old man I met yesterday walking in the woods and I gasp. Rushing over to take Josh by the hand, I pull him back out of the cottage and he laughs as he follows me into the woods.
“Mr. Mercer!” I call out after him wondering which direction he went in and I immediately hear the baying of his dog in response. And as I look off to my right I see him step out of the brush.
“Well, hello again young lady,” he says with a bright smile. He’s dressed much the same as he was yesterday in an old pair of worn coveralls and a denim jacket with an equally worn cowboy hat atop his gray head. “And I believe I told you … I’m just Joe. Mr. Mercer was my daddy.”
“Yes. Forgive me,” I smile at him. “I wanted you to meet my boyfriend, Detective Joshua Pierce.”
He smiles and reaches out his hand, and as Josh shakes it I can tell that he is sizing Mr. Mercer up carefully. “Pleased to meet you, sir,” he says evenly as they shake.
“The pleasure is all mine, Detective. All mine,” he says, looking Josh in the eye. “I want you to know that I appreciate the work that you and your colleagues do. I lost my boy to the job about eight years ago. He was an officer in Portland, on the force for 17 years.”
At that information, I watch Josh’s entire demeanor change, and he looks at Mr. Mercer differently somehow. With an air of respect maybe? “I’m very sorry to hear that, sir.”
“So is the son of a bitch that shot him. He’s on death row for killing my son and two other officers,” he says soberly.
“Glad to know they got him, at least,” Josh responds and Mr. Mercer nods in response.
“So, you and your wife will be taking the house?” he asks, motioning to the back of the property. And I think Josh and I both blush slightly at the old man’s assumption of our relationship.
“Uh, well … we’re not married, Mr. Mercer,” Josh explains nervously, still holding my hand. “And we’re still considering the house. We just came back to have another look around.”
“Joe,” the old man corrects. “It’s a nice place. Been empty for almost a year though, since the Thompsons moved to London. I’ve been trying to keep an eye out. That’s my house over yonder,” he says pointing behind him to a large home that we can barely see through the dense woods. “These woods stretch on for a few miles to the east. Lots of good hunting to be done here. Deer and elk, rabbit and wild turkey. Your wife mentioned yesterday that you’re a hunting man, Detective?”
Josh smiles slightly at Mr. Mercer’s blatant disregard of his earlier statement on our marital status, but decides it would do no good to correct the old man once again. “Yes, I am,” he answers.
“Well, if you and your wife decide to move in, you are welcome to hunt my land anytime, Detective. Bring your work colleagues or whoever else you hunt with. Long as they’re with you, they’re welcome. There’s a sizable stream running through it too, got some nice trout if you’re into fishing.”
“Well, that’s awfully generous of you, Joe,” Josh says with an amused smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Least I can do to show my appreciation,” Joe says. “I hope you take the house. It’d be a nice feeling, having a police officer in the neighborhood.”
Josh smiles slightly and nods his head, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
We say our goodbyes to Joe Mercer then and walk hand in hand back up to the house. And I have a great time showing Josh all around the inside of the beautiful home. We begin our tour in the basement and I show him the home office and the game room, which he flips for but tries to remain stoic about. But I can tell from his raised eyebrows and his smirk that he really likes the space. I point out where we could add the poker table and I even show him an empty room down there that the previous owner had used as storage that he could turn into the perfect exercise space. There’s more than enough room for all of his workout equipment and his weights, and it would be right next to his man cave.
We venture upstairs to the main floor then and continue our tour. I walk him through each room and show him all of the incredible features, and I take advantage of every opportunity to point out how our lives could benefit from or be improved by living here. Then up on the second floor, I show him the incredible master suite with its marble fireplace in the sitting area and its beautiful, luxurious, spa-like bathroom and double walk-in closets. Then I open the French doors and we step out onto the room’s private deck. The outdoor space isn’t large but, it’s not tiny either. Just a perfect little romantic alcove; a charming addition to such a lovely bedroom.
“Isn’t it lovely?” I ask, looking out over the rose garden at dusk and down towards the woods.
“It’s very nice, baby,” Josh says softly, taking my hand.
“You know, what makes this room really special is this private deck. No other room on this floor can access this space. That means we can enjoy this Jacuzzi or that really comfy looking wicker lounge.” I smile sweetly as I motion to the small Jacuzzi tub in the corner of the deck and the wicker rattan, outdoor chaise bed at the other end. “It could be an incredibly romantic, sexy little spot,” I say softly, looking him in the eye, and he smiles wickedly at me.
He takes me into his arms then and looks deep into my eyes for a moment. “You are really trying to sell this place to me, aren’t you?” His voice is soft and he sounds torn. And I can see in his eyes that my sales pitch hasn’t been successful, a
nd my heart sinks. He sighs heavily as he stares down at me.
“Josh, I don’t care where we live,” I say softly, hearing the sadness in my voice. “I’m happy in your house. I will gladly stay there, if you’ll have me. I can put up with the overflowing closets and drawers and the small bathroom if you can. I just want to be with you.”
“Baby, I don’t want you to have to put up with anything. I want you to be happy. I know that we can’t stay in my place all right, it’s much too small. But this place is so …, ”
“So what?” I ask when he hesitates, and he frowns at me, shrugging his shoulders.
“So grand,” he says finally. Disapprovingly. “I mean really, what do we need with five bedrooms, Sam?”
I stare at him silently. What do I say to that? How do I answer that question? “Okay,” I say softly, avoiding his gaze. I take a deep breath and step out of his embrace then, heading back inside the master suite. I’m suddenly very tired again and I just want to go home. And I don’t understand why I’m getting so damn emotional about a stupid house. I’m fighting back tears when I feel Josh’s arms encircle me from behind and he kisses the back of my head.
“Sam, if you want this house, then buy it, baby,” he whispers in my ear.
“But I want you to be comfortable, Josh,” I say tearfully. I turn in his embrace and face him. “I want this to be our house, not my house.”
He hesitates for a beat and then says softly, “Yeah, I get that.” Then he lightly caresses my cheek with his hand. “Baby, if this is where you are, then this is where I’ll be. And I will learn to be comfortable here, okay?”
“But I want you to be happy,” I whisper.
“Samantha, if you’re happy, I am happy, baby,” he says looking deep into my eyes. “It’s like you said. I just want to be with you. I don’t care where.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes, baby. I mean that.”
I throw my arms around his neck and he holds me tightly for a moment. And we are interrupted when we hear the realtor clear her throat discretely.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Miss Colby,” Mrs. Falk says with a smile, “but I thought you might like to know that I’ve just heard back from London. The seller is very pleased with your offer, and he’s more than willing to sell it to you completely furnished; he says it will save him the time and trouble of having to put everything in storage or having to arrange for an auction. The place is yours if you want it,” she says looking at me expectantly. “You can move in immediately.”
I glance up at Josh and he is looking down at me with the ghost of a smile resting on his perfect lips. And he raises his eyebrows to me in a questioning gesture.
“You’re sure?” I whisper, my eyes searching his, and he smiles at me.
“I’m sure.”
I turn back to Mrs. Falk then. “Sold,” I say with a tearful smile.
*****
I work feverishly for the next two days. On Wednesday morning, I call Lucas to ask if his offer for professional movers still stands. I know there isn’t much to do with the house being mostly furnished but, with Josh working and Meg still on her honeymoon and all my free time spent stressing about the art show on Friday, a little extra help would be nice. We do have two places to vacate after all. Since the apartment was already furnished when I moved in, I won’t be taking any of the furniture from there with me, and about half of my clothes and shoes are already at Josh’s place so, I only need to pack up the rest of my closet, and some of the small appliances and cookware from my kitchen. I also need to carefully cover the rest of my paintings and have them moved as well. Not to mention all the artwork on my walls and the personal items and knickknacks. And then there’s all of Josh’s exercise equipment at his place. Now that will definitely require some muscle to move!
Lucas agrees to arrange for movers by the afternoon and I am once again shocked by the ease with which he seems to get things done. Seems no one ever wants to risk saying no to Lucas Colby.
I head to work then, and, thankfully, I have only two tours at the museum and when my duties there are over, I meet with Mrs. Falk at her office to sign the papers and hand over the check. And I make sure to put the deed for the house in Josh’s name as well as my own. We had quite a discussion about that on the way home last night; it almost caused a real argument. But I meant it when I said that I wanted this to be our house, and thankfully – several hours later – Josh finally gave in and agreed.
Once the papers are all signed, she hands the keys over to me and the house is ours. Josh and I are homeowners! It’s a strangely scary feeling somehow. I’m really a grown up! I roll my eyes at the thought. I may be a grown up, but I am still such a dork!
I say goodbye to Mrs. Falk but, I know we’ll be seeing her again soon since she’ll also be handling the sale of Josh’s place. Leaving the realtor’s office, I head straight over to my apartment to meet with Mr. Martin, who will be supervising the movers for me. I let them in and then stay about an hour to oversee the wrapping and packing of my artwork. Then I leave Martin to it and swing by the gallery to meet with Lola to talk about last minute details with the show. I spend about two hours with her before I am off and running once again, heading out to the new house to let the movers in and supervise the unpacking. And in just a few short hours, they have me completely moved out of my old apartment. Josh is amazed when I tell him this news.
“I guess you have been busy today, haven’t you?” he marvels as we sit eating our dinner and I regale him with tales of my adventures.
“You have no idea,” I say with an exhausted roll of my eyes. “And tomorrow will be more of the same with this place,” I say glancing around Josh’s house.
“What do you mean?” he frowns at me.
“I mean tomorrow the movers will be here to pack up your place,” I say frowning back at him.
“Tomorrow?” He looks slightly perturbed and he sounds shocked. I nod my head, still frowning at him. I don’t understand his reaction. “You really mean to move into this place immediately, don’t you?”
“Well, I don’t see any reason not to,” I shrug, looking him in the eye. “The place is completely furnished and the real estate company has been maintaining it so they could try to sell it. It’s clean, we have the keys, the deed is in our names, and all of our things can be moved in by this time tomorrow. I’ve even had the gas, electric, and water bills all transferred over to us so … why should we wait?”
“Samantha, I’ve got to work tomorrow. I can’t be here supervising movers.” He sounds agitated, and I think he’s feeling backed against a wall.
“Well I know you’re busy, Josh, that’s why I had Lucas get the movers in the first place. And I’ll be supervising them. You don’t need to be here.”
“I don’t want you in here alone with a bunch of strange men,” he says looking at me with a very frustrated scowl.
“Josh, Mr. Martin will be here with me, just like he was today at my old apartment! I’ll be fine. And our move will be virtually painless for you. We can spend the night in our new home tomorrow night. Won’t that be nice?”
He stares at me incredulously for a moment and then he sighs, shaking his head slightly. He stabs at the chicken breast on his plate with his fork, saying nothing for a long time, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Finally he sets his fork down and places his elbows on the table, resting his chin against his folded hands, and stares at me.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I just didn’t realize this move was going to take place so quickly, that’s all. I mean, you have to know that things don’t usually move this fast in the real world,” he says quietly, still looking at me intently. “Buying a house for the average person is normally a long, drawn out process.”
I sigh at his words and push my plate away, feeling frustrated. I know he’s talking about money again and I don’t want to have this conversation. But here we go. “I know, Josh,” I say quietly. “The average person can’t afford to buy this type of house, com
pletely furnished. Let alone pay cash for it. I do know that. I am not completely oblivious to the world around me.”
“I’m not implying you are, baby,” he says quietly. “I just want you to understand that my head is spinning here. Your world is one that…,” He pauses and shakes his head once more as he works out what he’s trying to say. “It’s going to take a little getting used to for me, okay? Doing things on a whim because you feel like it and money’s not an issue. That’s not something I know, baby.”
“Okay,” I say softly.
He sighs heavily. Then he reaches over and takes my hand and gives it a light squeeze. “Can a girl sweep a guy off his feet, or is it always the other way around?” he asks softly, looking at me pointedly, and I blush, biting my bottom lip.
“Am I sweeping you off your feet, Detective?”
“It certainly feels that way to me, Miss Colby.” He shakes his head once more, as if he’s trying to understand what just happened. Then he smiles, turning back to his plate and finishing his dinner.
*****
On Thursday, after my duties at the museum are seen to, I rush home to supervise the packing at Josh’s place. He gave me strict instructions that the movers are to go nowhere near the garage. He didn’t want to risk them being careless in the Charger’s vicinity so, he insists on packing up all of his tools and everything himself. And perhaps that’s best since his garage holds half a dozen or more of those large, mechanic’s toolboxes, not to mention a few other pieces of expensive looking equipment that I’m sure used to be in his father’s shop.
Most of Josh’s furniture is second hand and we’ve decided to donate it all to Good Will. And as I suspected, the equipment in Josh’s weight room presents the biggest challenge of the day. Besides the work bench and all of the free weights, there is also his heavy boxing bag which is suspended from the ceiling by a thick chain, and his treadmill, and various other workout paraphernalia to contend with. But once the movers get that room all cleared out, there’s just all the clothes and personal items, plus everything from the bathroom and the hall closet. And of course, the kitchen.
Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set Page 79
