by Unknown
“Damn, man.” He cursed and hit something in the background. They ended their call and Matt walked me downstairs to his little sporty white convertible car.
“I just got the text from my friend, our flight is on a private jet and leaves in two hours. He’ll meet us there and give us a little more information. I already stopped by my place and packed a few things.” I nodded my head gently in understanding.
“Okay.” I had all but turned into a block of concrete now. Mrs. Jenkins was out under the guise of checking mail and I just waved goodbye as she opened her mouth to play the question game.
“That Mrs. Jenkins had to have fallen straight out of ‘I Dream of Genie.’ Nosey old bat.”
I just nodded in agreement, reaching for my cell phone that was buzzing in my back pocket. Matt looked over to me his brow raised in question, waiting. The screen read, Mama. Great, that’s exactly what I needed, she would sense the anxiety in my voice, immediately. Knowing she wouldn’t quit calling until I picked up, I swiped the screen and put the phone to my ear but before I could say anything, I heard her sniffling and crying, frantically speaking to someone in the background. My hair all stood on end and I pulled my hand back from the car door.
“Mama, what is it?” I tried not to sound panicky but this was mama, after all. She was our rock, never showing any sad emotions for fear of worrying us.
“Oh Taylor baby, it’s your daddy.” And just like that, it felt as though someone had dropped a bucket of ice down into my belly. In the shift of two minutes, I went from annoyed to relief to utterly paralyzing fear. In my head, I was screaming, ‘WHAT, WHAT, WHAT!’ but the words just couldn’t escape the lump in my throat. “He’s had a heart attack and is in critical condition. He’s in a coma baby.”
Another brain to body malfunction happened and in my thoughts I was sinking to the ground, melting into a puddle while traffic rushed past me in downtown NYC, but in reality I was running for my truck, Matt yelling after me and chasing me. He grabbed my arm and swung me back to face him as I reached my driver’s side door.
“Sweetheart, what is wrong?” He practically barked.
I had already hung up on my mother and tried to take in a deep breath. “My dad, he’s...” I need another breath. In. And. Out. “My dad is in the hospital in a coma. Heart attack.”
Matt hissed, “What the fuck!” Running a hand over his face, he put up a hand and said, “Okay, wait, let me get our bags and I will go with you. Just wait a minute.”
I nodded still trying to take deep breaths and even myself out before I hyperventilated on the street. He was back before he left and threw the bags into the bed of my truck. We climbed in and I took off at an acceptable enough speed for New York City streets, which was near deadly; when in Rome…
Matt made a few phone calls to various people and asked me about five times if I’d rather be flying home. He knew I hated to fly but he always showed apprehension where Bessie was concerned. At a later time, I really needed to figure out why the men in my life had doubts about my precious truck. She was American made and solid as a rock.
What was a 12 hour drive, Matt and I had turned into about 8 and probably broke more laws and records in that one drive than we had in all our lives.
Combined.
I also was going to be fined heavily for the four tolls I blew through. You’d think I’d have invested in an E-Z Pass after five years, but not so much.
Pulling into Devine was such a bittersweet feeling; driving down Main Street, under the canopy of old sugar maple and pecan trees lining the road into town; the sweet smell of fall drifting through the windows and sending a lifetime of memories smack into my head at once. Not much has changed, but when did it ever in a little town. Inside I struggle with where to go first and my body seems to know before my mind does because out of memory, the truck turns down the road to the old family farm and up to the new high tech gate.
“What the hell is that?”
I lean forward and look out my windshield up the tall newly constructed monstrosity of a security gate and fence. An archway connecting two large blocks of stone stood with a metal sort of gate, filling the gap with just enough room for one large vehicle to pass through at a time, in the center. A large K and J entwined on the metal doors and a security system to the left side of the drive as you reach the doors. Matt counted four cameras alone pointed at the car, not including the numerous cameras covering the surrounding perimeter. I pushed the call button on the gate and waited for the answering, deep voice.
“Can I help you?”
I instantly recognized the voice but reasoned the only way the person behind the intercom didn’t recognize me, was because they simply weren’t looking, so I waited. It didn’t take long before there was almost a shout of awareness. The doors of the gate began to open and I figured they were probably quite heavy as they didn’t swing right open but took a moment. Tapping the gas lightly, I pulled the truck in the gate and down the gravel road, dirt flying up in the rearview, taking me back to a night almost six years ago that had my heart hurting just as much now as it did then. There was simply no turning back now, not when my daddy was in the hospital. Matt reached over, sensing my heartache and probably mistaking it for discomfort; I squeezed his hand back, holding it in-between us on the bench seat.
“You wanted some history into Taylor Ann Kane, well, here it is. Folks round’ here know me as Taylor James or Annie. You are about to be bombarded with more information about me, than you will ever have wished to know.” I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second longer than necessary, preparing myself at the same time as I prepared Matt for the truth about me.
“Welcome to Devine, Tennessee Matt, where the whole town knows what you’re doing before you do, but you’ll never be safer.”
In a most un-Matt like way, he said nothing but nodded his head and looked back out the window. We drove through another security gate set up to the circular drive. As I reached the front of my parents’ house, my door was opened for me before the truck was in park and I was being pulled out.
“Ow, Dillon, seatbelt!” I hollered, torn between glee and pain.
“Want me to cut it off?” He nearly howled without letting me go.
“No!” Matt hit the release button for me and Dillon proceeded to haul me out of the truck, up into his arms and I wrapped my legs around his waist, needing the support. Dillon was one of the adopted children that my brothers brought home; Charlie’s best friend dating back from Pop Warner football.
This stud clutching me to him had developed a mighty fine set of muscles and grown about a foot since I last saw him. He was a slow developer but I can’t say it didn’t pay off because ooh-wee, I knew he was fighting the ladies off with a stick. Square black glasses sit perched on his once broken nose but despite his history, the scars on his face from too much fighting in high school only added to the insane hotness that grew to be Dillon Harris.
He was wearing a maroon Henley with the sleeves pulled up just below his elbows, showing off two full ‘sleeves’ of tattoos and black cargo pants that hugged his mouth watering, muscle enriched thighs. Deep dimples kissed his cheeks and his dark auburn hair looking shaggy in the back, curling behind his ears brushed his neck without being too long and just short enough up top without blinding him; messy as usual.
"Holy shit, who is this man before me?" I exclaimed, trying not to be too joyous considering why I was here.
"Damn Tay." Looking up and down my body with those dark green eyes, a lazy grin overrode his face and he seemed disbelieving but thrilled. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of confusion or maybe frustration in his eyes. I shrugged it off, literally and stepped back.
"It's really me, I swear." I held my three fingers up in a Girl Scout promise. His smile grew only wider momentarily until he saw who I was with. A deep frown set upon his face and something sparked in those mysterious eyes. It really had been so long since I had seen him, it was hard to really know him like I us
ed to.
“Lucky me, Tommy never scooped you up when he had the chance. You’re fair game now.” He half-joked and then asked, “Who’s the suit?” He nodded toward Matt but looked at me crossly.
“Holster the fists of fury there boy wonder.” I slid an arm around his lower back, which was about as high as I could reach now, and turned my body to look at Matt who was leaning up against Bessie by his hip. “D, this is my publisher and best friend, Matt. Matt, this is my, er,” Brother seemed weird considering how I had just checked him out but it really was about all he was. “Well, he’s my brother in a way.”
Dillon’s hold on my waist seemed to tighten marginally at the word, “brother” but I kept going. Seemingly, the years of transition into adulthood had changed him so much it was almost like I was meeting Dillon again, for the first time. By sight, I recognized him, but my heart and brain were falling short.
“We were all raised side by side here on the family farms. My mother adopted him pretty much when he didn’t have a place to go after his parent’s passed on.” I cringed as I always had reliving that night we all found out, never being able to imagine life without my parents and being overwhelmed by the fear of losing my father, again.
Matt took the two long strides over that his legs were capable of and held his hand out to Dillon. A moment’s hesitation on Dillon’s part, as was expected given our history, and they shook rough and quick.
“Pleasure. I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you but Taylor hasn’t really talked much about her life here.” Matt said.
Is he really frowning right now?
Now Dillon was returning his sullen look and replied, “Well, at least you got to talk to her.”
Ouch. I mean, I guess I deserved that, but ouch.
They just stared at one another and we sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments time. There were a million questions racing through my mind at an Olympic pace but I had no idea which one to pick first. Suddenly exhausted, I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating faster than normal before he spoke again.
“I guess you heard then.” It wasn’t a question, he knew by the look of melancholy on my face. I simply nodded, craning my neck to make eye contact.
“Almost everyone is at the hospital.” He squeezed my shoulders again in an attempt at comfort. For some reason, it just felt uneasy.
“I figured they would be. I wasn’t sure where I should go first.”
“Listen, you’re beyond exhausted, this just happened so even if ma knew you were coming, she would have expected you tomorrow. Go, get some sleep and freshen that beautiful face of yours up.” I began to protest as he stroked my face lovingly but he put his fingers over my open mouth. “No. Don’t argue. I out… well, I out everything you now, so your efforts are futile Annie. Come, I’ll take you down there.”
Had he just called me Annie? My stomach lurched – I expected the nickname eventually, but never from his lips. Putting it out of my mind, I moved forward.
Before I could ask where down there was, he was pulling me back to the truck and as gently as one could toss, tossed me into the cab; pushing me into the middle of the bench seat and waited for Matt to climb in on the other side of me. Bessie had still been running so he shifted her into drive and set off around the driveway and back toward the old mother-in-law suite near the manmade lake.
I looked sideways at him when he continued driving on to the very back of the property and my jaw dropped when I saw a brand new home constructed not far from the lake, pushed back and hidden behind some natural land that was allowed to grow out. Pulling up just in front of it, it was even grander up close. We climbed out and stood, silent. My breath was stolen. This house standing before me was my dream home. An all-white, southern plantation style home with two stories and a full attic topping it off. The first story had a complete wrap around porch and the front of the home on the second floor had a balcony from side to side that only had access by the elegant French doors of a guest room. The doors were open and crisp white linen curtains bellowed out of them, blowing freely in the wind.
The sight was charming and alluring. The cherry on the whole house was the bright red front door which was also open, light pouring out of it and some louder than normal classic music. Puccini, I think; I only know that because I listen to his music often while writing. When we arrived the sun was just going down but now it was suddenly dark enough to see fireflies dancing in the distance along the tree line.
I turned back and looked past Bessie to the large man-made lake, the moon bouncing off of it, playfully, calling to anyone who would listen, enticing you to a moonlight swim. Just beyond the lake, further down the road were the Kane and Jameson family homes our parents had never separated despite the fact that our families were two different families; they always operated as one.
Both families were old and new money, worked for and kept only by sacrificing bone, blood, sweat, tears and sharing plenty of love.
This little slice of heaven we had carved out was blanketed by billions of stars and serenading crickets. Dillon reached out and grabbed my hand, for support I think, while waiting patiently for me to get reacquainted with the land. I glanced at him only momentarily before I looked back to the house and Matt came to stand beside us holding our bags.
A heat set in the lower region of my belly and I felt like a fire of lust and adoration had lit me ablaze from head to toe, the proof in my reddened cheeks. Why, I had no idea. We set out towards the house and Dillon mumbled, “Welcome Home,” then choked out something meant to be a chuckle. On the front porch were two white outdoor wicker rocking chairs and a matching table the size of a square living room ottoman. The top had a glass cover and a drink sat upon it with a book next to it.
“Did we interrupt your reading?” I asked, half joking. If memory served me right, Dillon despised reading.
“Um…” Was all he said before pushing me into the front door. He knocked sharply and before I knew it, he was gone. That little mother-
“Lissy, please, I said…” The sexiest voice I had ever heard in my whole entire life, deep and sensual, almost like a growl, had just resounded in my ears and I prayed that I was merely dreaming a horrific nightmare when he stepped into the entry hall. Naked from the waist up, about to haul a t-shirt up his arms and over his head, flexing all of his god-like muscles, halted, stunned.
Welcome to the party, asshat.
Chapter 6
I simply had no idea what to do. Lust, love and the power of an almighty anger were surging through my veins, fighting for who got out first while I remembered to close my mouth before I caught a fly and tried to remember how to work any part of my body. Any part at all. Besides my lady parts. This body was a two timing hussy. The electric pull I felt tugging between us was as present as ever and I tried to tell myself it was only because he was partially naked but it didn’t even dull when he put his shirt back on. If I’m being honest, I didn't need to see him naked again to remember every single curve, dip, hump, ab, sinewy muscle and pure deliciousness that made up what he was in all of his bare ass glory. With my brain presently in a gelatinous form, Matt took the opportunity to speak first, thank all the cheesecake in the world.
“Hi, I’m Matt. Dillon just brought us back here, hope we aren’t intruding.” He held out his hand and waited. And waited. When he realized the man before us wasn’t going to shake it, he pulled it back and gave an awkward thumbs up.
“Okay.” He said, drawing it out, unsure of what to do next. Looking between us, he had obviously gathered that we knew each other. He took another stab at it. “How do you know Mrs. Kane, here?”
After another several tense, silent, moments, the man spoke with an emotion I could not place and a southern drawl so thick you could cut it like warm butter. Never taking his eyes off of mine, he grunted.
“I’m the Mr. to her Mrs.” Then, with an emotion I recognized very easily as jealousy, he all but barked, “Who the fuck are you?”
I am almost certain that in the entire time since I have known him, this was the first time I ever saw Matt speechless, a look of incomprehension on his gorgeous face.
Suddenly remembering his first words, I found my own gust of jealousy and blew it back at him, “Well, he ain’t Lissy!”
That little tramp. The same pathetic girl who chased Tommy around since middle school, begging for a scrap. Was that mean of me? Too bad. I hated her; hated all females who wanted what I wouldn’t allow myself to have and while I understand the ridiculousness of that stance, I just don’t give a damn. He was mine. Was.
* * *
Tommy swore he just died and went straight to heaven on the fast track. His angel stood before him looking, in his opinion, like the most drop dead gorgeous woman ever to walk the earth - even with her eyes drooping and her hair disheveled from going too long without rest. The same gravitational pull that existed between them was there, once more, jerking harder than ever, beseeching him to drag her into his arms and take her to his cave like the caveman she made him. Taylor spoke before he could do just that.
“My dad had a heart attack. He’s up at Bradley Regional in a coma.” She literally just spit it out.
Talk about a kick to the gut. Not only was Tommy close to her father, but the look she gave and the hurt in her tone, burned him in a whole new way. And no one had even told him. She shifted gears quickly though and did what Taylor did best; she hid herself. A wall of stone and anger erected itself before Tommy’s very eyes and despite the fact that he had seen it a million times, that hurt him because he was once the only person who got to stand behind it with her.
“Don’t worry about it though, we will go to the main house or the clubhouse, this isn’t your problem.” She turned away swearing and Tommy panicked, unsure if he could handle watching her walk out the door one more time; even if she was an illusion of his depraved mind. Reaching out to grab her upper arm to halt her, his hand was zapped with all the intense sparks flying off at their contact, deepening his need and want for her in that exact moment. She glared at him and he released her arm without saying another word, even knowing the sparks affected her too. Tommy shifted over to Matt, grabbing the bags out of his hands, catching him off guard as he watched, bewildered at the interaction between Tommy and Taylor.
