by A. D. Roland
“A real treasure.”
Chapter Three
The drive to his place seemed to take forever. Finally he pulled up to a gate off the highway. A big sign attached to the fence read EME Floral and Landscaping.
“E-M-E?” Mattie asked.
“Say it like ‘emmie.’ Means a couple things. Elaine, Emeline. My mom’s name was Moira.”
“Oh.”
West drove down the long, winding private road, stopping to wave at a few people standing outside a double row of trailers. “I rent to my workers,” he said, pointing at the trailers. “Occasionally if something’s open, to anybody that needs a place. During the slow seasons the rent keeps EME afloat.”
“Cool.” She had a feeling the slow seasons occurred most of the year. “Want to see the rest of the place?” She couldn’t refuse when she heard the boyish pride in his voice. “Sure.” As he navigated slowly over a maze of bumpy, deeply-rutted dirt roads, he pointed out each feature of his business. “Over there is the fernery. It’s pretty small, mostly because I can’t afford to hire enough people to work it. This is the retail/wholesale nursery. It does pretty well and I use everything I grow out here in my landscaping and lawn maintenance business. See all those big piles of mulch, rock, and sand? I sell all that stuff, too. The mulch and stone is pretty much a steady business.”
“Emeline makes it out like you’re barely making it.” In fact, the few conversations she’d had with her sister involved her whining about how poor West was, and how he couldn’t ever afford to do, like, anything, and she was always, like, the one paying the bill and whatever.
West shrugged as he pulled up to a square concrete building, then backed up until he was within range of a big bright blue trailer that Mattie assumed was full of lawn stuff. “There are times during the year when I don’t do so hot. The bigger outfits have their years of experience and all behind them. Me, I’ve only been around a few years. I have my steady clients, but my business is mostly word-of- mouth. My lawn maintenance honestly does the best, and my SBA advisor has always said I should focus on it instead of all this.”
“Why do you then?”
West got out of the truck and went around to the back of it. Mattie watched him hitch the trailer up. “Mostly because the nursery and all was my dad’s dream. I can’t stand the thought of letting it die.”
“There’s a difference between letting something die of failure, and letting it die a noble death,” Mattie said.
“I can’t let it go. It has potential. It’s just a matter of finding the right wholesalers.”
He checked the contents of the trailer, then gestured for Mattie to follow him into the concrete building. “Look over there and grab a few pairs of the gloves and those big trimmers off the peg-board there.”
The weight of the hedge clippers surprised Mattie, and she nearly dropped them as she was lifting them off the hook. West’s strong arm shot over her shoulder and grabbed them a second before she knocked herself silly.
“Careful, there.”
Standing so close, she could smell his musky, warm cologne and his Whopper-breath. She could feel his body heat, even in the stifling little shed.
“Listen,” he said softly, not moving. “I’m an asshole. I’m sorry about some of the things I said to you earlier.”
“It’s okay,” she replied, half-dizzy from his closeness. Something about this man attracted her like a bug to a Bug-Zapper. The closer she got, the more intense the burn. “I understand people have tried to take advantage of the McKendricks. I’m not one of them. I’m pretty much alone in the world, and it would be nice to know I have family, somewhere.”
He gave her an odd look before taking the trimmers from her. He her back out of the shed. Locking the door, he instructed her to put the gloves in the trailer. She did as he asked. He hefted an edger to his shoulder. The muscles flexed in his arms, his chest.
“You okay?” he asked, grinning. Mattie felt blood flush her cheeks. She was so nervous she couldn’t get the passenger door open. West stepped up behind her when she couldn’t get it and did it for her, brushing against her, flustering her to the point that her hands shook.
A man hasn’t affected me like this in ages. Actually, ever. To her, a man being attracted to her usually meant she was in the wrong place, and it would end badly.
Mattie clambered awkwardly into the truck and took a big, cooling gulp of her soda. Parts of her that had been in a life-long hibernation were roaring to life, and it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling.
The worst part of it was the man that was affecting her so intensely was her sister’s boyfriend. This ain’t going to end well.
Especially since he had flirted right back.
Chapter Four
Mattie’s heart ached for West. He was a really nice guy, his streaks of asshole-ism aside. When she caught him off-guard, he was actually funny and sweet. West offered to let her hang out with him after the visit with Ruth Ellen.
West’s rough, callused hands showed her the correct way to trim rosebushes and topiaries. His touch left her sweaty and wobbly. When she mastered the tricks he showed her, he grinned and it made her heart stutter. Best of all, they talked. He had the same taste in goofy comedies starring Will Farrell or Melissa McCarthy. He loved Sandra Bullock and admitted to many sexual fantasies involving her.
Music was another thing she found out they could talk about. He was insanely proud of his cover band, Whispers Kill. They performed everything from Tool to Metallica, from art rock to lonesome ballads with a country flavor. He played guitar and sang lead vocals, but he refused to indulge her with a song.
This is my sister’s man! She had had to remind herself so many times over the course of the afternoon.
The second day at the McKendrick house, she watched him pulling weeds from the ornate flowerbeds alongside his workers. She surprised him by plopping down in the dirt next to him and appropriating an extra pair of gardening gloves from the toolbelt around his belt. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m bored. I’m not used to just sitting around, doing nothing.” She bit back a laugh. “And I’m desperate to avoid Justine. She’s…intense.”
“Wackadoo,” West corrected. “So you’re going to hang out with the gardener today?”
“If you’ll let me.”
“Sure.” He showed her the right way to get the weeds out of the ground, root and all. As the day went on, they moved from pulling weeds to replanting succulents in the rock garden by the pool. The conversation revolved around their favorite bands, what bands sucked, which singers they’d love to meet, who they’d rather set on fire than listen to.
Mattie flicked a rock at him. It bounced off his tanned, well-muscled bicep.
“Hey!”
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
He shook his head. “That’s mean.” He bit his bottom lip and sat back on his heels. “I was wondering about something.”
“What’s that?”
“If being ticklish runs in the family.”
Mattie’s eyes widened. “Don’t.” She scuttled backwards, out of his reach. He whooped in triumph and jumped after her, catching her by the pool. She shrieked and tried to escape his roving fingers. She was laughing too hard and doubled over, trying to evade him.
West stumbled, his legs tangled in hers “Oh shi--“
They both went down, West on top, Mattie taking the brunt of the impact with the edge of the pool. They flopped into the pool, less than gracefully. The blow knocked the breath out of her and she sucked in a lungful of bitter, chlorinated water. She flailed for the surface, disoriented.
West’s warm hands encircled her waist and pulled her upright. “Shit, are you okay?” he asked, wiping her hair out of her face. “I’m so sorry. I was just playing around.”
The sight of his warm blue eyes and startled face rattled her. He touched her face again, tilting her chin one way then the other. “I thought you hit your head. God, say something, Mattie!”<
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She planted her hands against his firm chest and shoved him backwards as hard as she could. She caught a glimpse of his smile before he went under. He flipped around instantly and grabbed her legs, yanking them out from under her. Before she could recover, he had her around the waist, turning her under water until she was tight against his chest, waist deep in the pool. His fingers found the ticklish places over her ribs and around her stomach. She shrieked and tried to escape, but he hung on until they were both breathless. She wiggled until she could reach him, and to her delight, he was ticklish as well.
They wrestled, struggling for domination, until he got her in a headlock. “Uncle!” he growled, faux-ferocious. “Say it, Mattie.”
She elbowed him in the ribs and tried to squirm away. He held her even tighter. With her backside up against his hips, she was pretty sure he had a raging erection. Something twanged deep inside her core and heat flooded her belly, spreading lower. She twisted hard and found herself face-to-face with him, inches from his face, her back against the side of the pool
The intense look in his eyes took her breath away. Water sparkled in his hair and on his bronzed skin. His lips parted and his hands tightened on her hips, holding her tight against him. His gaze searched her face, lingering on her lips, then sliding down to the heaving swell of wet cleavage. Her thin tank top and flimsy bra did little hide her hard nipples.
“Shit,” he breathed and pushed away from her.
Without him, she could suddenly breathe. She heaved herself up on the edge of the pool, her gaze still locked with his.
“Go inside, Mattie,” he said, sounding breathless. “Go, okay?”
She fled, leaving wet footprints on the hot concrete.
Justine stood on the lanai, eyes narrowed. “You made quite a spectacle of yourself a moment ago,” she said, cold eyes glaring holes in Mattie’s skin.
“Hmm?”
“You and West. There are eyes all over this house.”
Mattie smiled. “Oh. We were just playing around.”
“He’s a paid employee. You don’t need to distract him from his work.”
“Sorry.”
Justine kept staring. Mattie couldn’t recall, but she didn’t think the woman had blinked once during the entire conversation. Unnerved, Mattie excused herself and hurried up to her room.
Emeline burst into the room uninvited. Had she seen her and West in the pool? Apparently not. She flounced down on the bed. “So Grandma says I have to spend time with you and get to know you.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you’re so special. She’s never made me talk to the other ones that showed up.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m actually your sister.”
Emeline snorted and laughed. “As if. You’re the seventh person to show up claiming to be Elaine. So what if you’ve got pictures and look just like Grandma did when she was your age.” She heaved a deep, dramatic sigh. “So anyway, you’re going out with me tomorrow night. I’ve already made West take off this afternoon so we can go shopping. Apparently, Ruth Ellen insisted you get an allowance until the DNA stuff gets taken care of and all.”
Mattie’s heart dropped to her feet. She had money now? Pre-blood test? “Well, that’s cool.”
“Yeah. We gotta get you out of those Wal-Mart blue light special rags.”
“K-Mart.”
“What?”
“K-Mart has the blue light specials. Wal-Mart has the smiley face rollbacks.”
Emeline made a face and held her hands up in disgust. “Whatever. Anyway, get ready to go. West is going to be here in, like, an hour.” She bounced out of the room again. Mattie sighed, grabbed her toiletry bag, and headed for the in-suite bathroom. She needed a shower. She smelled like chlorine, sweat, and sunshine.
It took a few attempts to get the shower started. When the water was finally flowing, Mattie couldn’t help but get excited. The whole apparatus was something out of a magazine, with a rainfall bar overhead and jets that shot water from the walls. And there was a detachable showerhead…
Mattie stripped off her wet clothes and stepped under the steaming spray. She flipped her hair back and let the water run down her shoulders while the jets worked at the tension in her back. She lathered her hair and rinsed, added condition, rinsed. As she soaped up, she thought about West’s groping hands, the way he’d not bothered to hide how turned on her was in the pool. His eyes had seen straight through her. She soaped up and ran her hands over her body, imaging what West’s touch would feel like on her bare skin. For a moment, she was extremely jealous of her sister.
She got out of the shower reluctantly and dried off on the fanciest towel she’d ever used. She shuffled through her meager collection of clothes and slapped the wrinkles out of her best jeans. They would have to do. Emeline came to fetch her and made a face at her outfit. “You seriously need new clothes.
Mattie glanced down at her plain skinny jeans. “Clothes don’t really mean much to me.”
“Ugh. Yeah, I can tell.”
On the way out the front door, Justine gave her an envelope full of crisp new bills. “I don’t think this should happen, but Ruth Ellen insisted.”
“I didn’t even ask for this,” Mattie replied. “But I’ll be sure to thank Ruth Ellen.”
She shoved the envelope into her purse. She peeked inside once she was safely alone in the backseat of Em’s baby-blue Navigator. West looked pissed. When she said hi, he gave her a curt nod, his eyes unreadable behind his wraparound sunglasses.
The envelope weighed her purse down. It ate at her, knowing it was in there, but not being able to see how much. The flap wouldn’t even close without bulging. She counted it quickly. When Emeline’s attention was on her phone and West was focused on the road, she lifted the flap.
One hundred one-hundred-dollar bills.
Ten thousand dollars.
Ten thousand dollars. Holy shit, ten thousand dollars!
What the heck do I do with ten thousand dollars? I can’t carry this around with me!
She could send five thousand to K, to get him off her back for a little while. The first chance she got, she would do that. Hopefully she could do it today. If she deposited half into the bank account K set up, then that would pacify him for a while.
It took a few minutes of arguing with Emeline to get her to stop at a branch. While she was inside, she made the deposit into K’s account. She considered setting up a second account, but K had the type of connections that would find out and there’d be hell to pay. She didn’t have enough ID to set one up as Evelyn Carruthers yet. Ruth Ellen’s lawyers were working on getting the documentation, but until the DNA results came back, she was stuck as Mattie Smith.
Six hours later, Mattie swore she would never ever in a million years go shopping with Emeline again. Ever. West had the right idea, staying in the Navigator with the radio blaring while Em and her friends ran wild in the mall. None of the clothes Mattie preferred were good enough for a night out with ‘the girls.’ Anything that was even moderately decent was scorned and tossed aside.
“I can’t wear stuff like that,” she insisted when the younger women tried to hand her tube tops and mini skirts and other embarrassing articles of clothing. “I’m a size fourteen. Not a—what’s this, a four?”
When the fat jokes started, Mattie rolled her eyes. “I’ll meet ya’ll at the truck in an hour.” She broke away from the group and headed for one of her favorite stores. She had five thousand dollars to spend, no strings attached. New clothes wouldn’t hurt.
***
McKendrick insisted on a family dinner at a posh restaurant when they got back from the hellacious shopping excursion.
“We have important things to talk about, Matilyn and Emeline.” Emeline groaned about having to cancel her plans, but Mattie was utterly relieved.
The gut-gnawing sense of anxiety returned when the sleek Mercedes pulled up in front of the kind of place Mattie had only seen in movies. Once inside the dimly lit, expensively furnish
ed dining room, Mattie felt so out of place. She stuck out like a sore thumb. Felt like everyone was staring at her in her simple black dress, as if they all knew she’d gotten it for three dollars off a clearance rack at an overstock outlet store in the mall. She didn’t know what brand it was since the store ripped the tags out, but she was sure every Chanel-and-Gucci-suited patron knew what brand it wasn’t.
Soft conversation filtered through the low-ceilinged room. Every once in a while, somebody clinked a glass or laughed aloud. Not too loudly, though.
A man impeccably dressed in a formal suit hurried toward McKendrick. Emeline bounced forward and gave the man a hug and a polite little kiss on the cheek.
“The owner,” West whispered in Mattie’s ear. She jumped a little, startled out of her reverie. She nodded in acknowledgement. The owner led them to a table in the back, tastefully shielded from the general view by a low wall topped with flowering green plants.
West frowned and subtly inspected the greens. “Plants are dying,” he remarked to her, even though she really didn’t care. “Damn expensive things, too.”
“Brant, wonderful to see you,” the owner said genially. “Wonderful job on my sister’s lawn, by the way. She loves the roses.”
West grinned. “She’ll have the best lawn on the street. Oh, and you might want to get some fertilizer for these babies here.” He fingered a leaf. “They’re tropical.”
Emeline sighed dramatically. “Come sit down and quit molesting the man’s plants, West.”
The owner shook West’s hand. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m sure you can help me with that...?”
“Sure. I’ll swing by tomorrow with some.”
Emeline waited until West pulled her chair out before she sat down. McKendrick pulled Justine’s chair out. The maîtres’d was occupied with showing the wine list to McKendrick.
Guess I’m on my own, Mattie thought. She tugged the heavy chair out from under the table and sat down. The damn thing was too far away from the table.
