by Jody Holford
Falling for Home
Jody Holford
Contents
Copyright
More from Penner Publishing
Also by Jody Holford
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Smart Women’s Fiction
This edition published by
Penner Publishing
Post Office Box 57914
Los Angeles, California 91413
www.pennerpublishing.com
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Copyright © 2016 by Jody Holford
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
ISBN: 978-1-944179-03-8
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Falling for Kate
To Matt & to Brenda
For everything
Always
It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
e.e. cummings
Chapter 1
Lucy slid one hand slowly along the firm edge, tracing every bump and dip. With her other, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her iPhone, hoping the light would give her a better look at the path her fingers followed.
“Son of a bitch! Where is it?” She stretched onto the balls of her feet, trying to inch her fingers along the grooves of the brick siding. For her whole life, her parents had kept a key tucked in a corner where the porch met the house, but now, when she wanted to get in without waking anyone, it was nowhere to be found. The weak sliver of moonlight wasn’t helping any more than the narrow beam of light from her phone. She crept along the narrow garden path, careful not to step on the raised flowerbeds. Lucy kept her eyes wide, hoping to see the flash of silver that would let her into her childhood home and out of the night’s crisp air.
The breeze blowing off the lake sent chills up her arms and she shivered. She decided to retrace her steps in case she’d passed it. Her boot caught on the branch of one of her father’s beloved magnolia bushes. Stumbling, Lucy juggled her phone for a second before losing her grip entirely and dropping it into the dirt. As she crouched down in the shadows to find it, she realized she was going to have to do what a normal person would have already done and knock on the door. Cringing, she patted the damp soil, hoping the phone wasn’t far. A sharp, low, masculine voice startled her from behind. “You’re going to stand up real slow and turn around with your hands up.”
Lucy closed her eyes and pulled herself out of her crouch, wondering if this night could get any worse. Her legs cramped as she straightened, reminding her that she was no longer the eighteen-year-old who had lived here ten years ago. She gave her eyes a second to adjust to the darkness. There’d never been much crime in Angel’s Lake, but her heart still drummed fiercely as she turned, shaking her head at her bad luck.
“Nice and slow,” the tall, broad-shouldered man repeated. Her pulse kicked into overdrive when she saw he was pointing a gun at her. Mind racing, her chest tightened.
“Hands up,” he said. When her eyes left the gun for a split second, she noticed the Angel’s Lake Police Department patch on the chest of his bulky jacket. Knowing he was an officer didn’t help to settle her nerves, though, and another shiver raced through her body. She couldn’t quite make out his features, but he had a good foot on her height wise, even though she was standing as tall as she could. Her back stiffened from trying to keep still, and she really wished he would speak. Or give her his jacket.
“It’s okay. I live here,” she said, her voice higher than usual. She would have been embarrassed by its squeaky sound, but the raised gun counteracted her pride.
He shined a flashlight into her eyes, blinding her. “Nice try, lady, but I live next door, so I know you don’t.” She squinted and held her hand in front of her eyes as she stepped forward.
“Freeze.”
She froze. There wasn’t a person alive brave enough to ignore that one-word growl.
“You don’t understand,” she tried again, staying still. “This is my parent’s house!”
“Sure it is. You thought you’d just creep around in their bushes before going inside?” he asked as he stepped toward her and lowered the flashlight.
He gripped her upper arm and tugged her out of the flowerbed.
“Hey! Get your hands off of me,” she demanded. “This really is my parent’s house!”
“Prove it. What’s your name?”
“Lucy! Lucy Aarons,” she yelled, trying to wriggle free of his grasp.
He stopped abruptly and then used his grip on her arm to spin her around. The moonlight cast a thin glow over a face that was vaguely familiar. His square jaw had a hint of stubble and his dark eyes bore into hers. Where did she know him from? He arched an eyebrow at her obvious inspection. He lowered the gun but his steady gaze held her just as still. He emanated heat, and she had to stop herself from stepping closer to absorb it. She’d done enough to embarrass herself for one evening.
She really should have just knocked.
Alex fought a smile as she tried to work out his identity. She wouldn’t. He would have recognized her voice if fear hadn’t raised her pitch to ear-piercing levels. The moonlight slanting across the yard let him see those crystal blue eyes he’d know anywhere. Her pouty lips frowned while she studied him. Disappointment tugged at his chest as she continued to stare.
“Alex. Alex Whitman,” he finally supplied, letting her go and holstering his gun. It still took her a few seconds; he saw the moment it clicked and her lips turned upward into a kick-you-in-the-gut smile. She threw her arms around him with so much zest it knocked him back a step. Without hesitating, he wrapped his arms around her waist, immediately noticing the softness of her curves as she pressed against him. Bending his knees a little as she hung on, he breathed in the sweet combination of fruity shampoo and cold air.
“Wow. Alex. You’re a cop!” she said with a laugh, her voice now closer to what he remembered from high school. She released him and stepped back, the smile brightening her face. His hands hung at his sides as he took her in. Her delicate cheekbones sat high, and though she’d filled out some, it was nothing more than how a woman should. She still looked like the girl he’d loved since sixth grade.
“Sheriff, actually. What are you doing here, Luce?
”
“Sheriff? Seriously? Did you fire your dad?” Her eyes flashed with amusement even as she shivered.
“No. He retired. I took over. It’s been a long time.”
“Yup. Seemed like a good time to visit,” she remarked, her eyes looking away as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms briskly. He’d interrogated enough suspects to recognize avoidance. He shrugged out of his department jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, which drew her eyes back to his. The hint of sadness in them made him want to pull her closer. That and the fact that it was Lucy.
“How long are you home for?” he asked, continuing to hold the lapels of the jacket while she shoved her arms in with a smile.
“I don’t know. We’ll see what happens. I can’t believe you’re sheriff, that you still live here … that you live next door to my parents.”
“It’s all true,” he nodded as he chuckled. He wasn’t surprised by her noncommittal timeframe. The only plans Lucy Aarons had ever made and kept were to get out of the small town that he’d grown to love.
The porch light came on, making them both squint in response.
“Evening, Mark,” Alex called as Lucy’s dad stepped out onto the wide porch. The sound of her dad’s voice made Lucy’s heart tumble in her chest. From the corner of her eye, she saw Alex watching her, but she couldn’t stop looking at her dad. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him for four years, thanks to Facebook and Skype, but nothing beat seeing him face to face.
“Who do you have there, Sheriff?” Mark Aarons asked as he squinted into the darkness, his mellow voice causing the goose bumps to reappear on her arms.
Until she’d been standing in front of him, it hadn’t occurred to her that she had missed him. She pulled away from Alex’s gentle grip to move toward her dad’s tall, lanky figure.
“It’s me, dad,” she muttered, shuffling into the light. He looked down from the top step, and she could see the gray peeking through his messy black hair.
“Lucy!”
He stepped off the porch in a few long strides and then clamped his arms around her, squeezing her so tight she couldn’t say a word. As she rested her head on his wide shoulder, she didn’t know what she would have said, even if there weren’t a golf ball-sized lump lodged in her throat.
“You’re home,” he whispered, as if he’d been waiting for her this whole time. His warmth seeped through her, settling her hammering heart.
“For now,” she replied more out of habit than belief.
“We’ll take what we can get.” He laughed and kissed the top of her head.
“Do I want to know why the sheriff brought you home, honey?” her dad asked, loosening his grip and pulling her into his side. Alex moved closer and she saw the yawn he tried to cover. He was not the meek shadow she’d met in sixth grade when he’d come to Angel’s Lake to live with his dad. And he definitely wasn’t the gangly teen she’d graduated with.
“Caught her lurking around the yard,” Alex joked, smiling warmly at her father. They were clearly comfortable with each other, and she found herself wondering how long Alex had lived next door and why neither of her sisters had mentioned it. A hot next-door neighbor seemed like a sisterly thing to mention. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he just winked at her, making her stomach dip.
“Funny, Sheriff. Don’t forget to mention the part where you manhandled me.” He frowned at her and looked appropriately sheepish. She turned back to her dad. “Dad, where’s the key? It’s always on the edge of the brick behind the flower bushes,” she complained. The wind was picking up, making the spicy scent of Alex’s cologne drift up from his jacket. She pulled the collar tight, inhaled deeply, and had to stop herself from sighing with pleasure.
“It’s not safe to leave a key out like that. Even in a small town,” Alex answered first. Her dad laughed and the sound brought a flash of childhood memories to her mind. Lucy grinned.
“Yes. Sheriff Whitman admonished us straight away when he moved in six months ago. He spotted the key and gave us a stern warning.”
Lucy caught a glimpse of Alex’s slight blush at her dad’s teasing. She watched him shuffle his feet and adjust his stance. Hmm, maybe a little of the boy from high school is still in there.
“You should get some motion sensor lights as well, sir.” He looked at Lucy, studying her a moment, then said, “Now that I know you’re not trying to break in, I should go.” Alex nodded toward his own house.
“Long shift?” her dad asked. Lucy heard the concern in his voice and looked back and forth between the men.
“Usual. But there was trouble out at Old Man Cantry’s farm,” Alex said. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, tousling it. She wondered if that was how he looked when he woke up in the morning. His gaze caught hers, and he arched his brow then continued. “Nothing major—kids being kids. I’ll be glad when Kate gets the youth center up and running so they have something to keep them busy. Somewhere else to hang out at night.” He looked back at his house again and covered a yawn.
Lucy pulled away from her dad and shrugged out of his jacket. She wondered if Alex and her younger sister Kate were close. When she handed him the jacket, his fingers swept over hers to accept it. She felt a shiver of a different kind—the slow, teasing kind that started in her belly and traveled up her arms. Their eyes locked again.
“It won’t be much longer now. She’s been working day and night, pulling her plans together,” Mark replied. Lucy’s stomach dipped at Alex’s intense look, but she stepped away from him and his delicious-smelling jacket. Her dad pulled her tightly against his side like he wasn’t mad about how long she’d been gone.
“Yeah, I said I’d help with some painting tomorrow, which means I should get some sleep,” Alex said. He turned to Lucy again, swinging his jacket over his shoulder. “Nice to have you home, Lucy. Maybe we can grab something to eat and catch up?” He gave her dad a quick glance after he said it, and she almost laughed. It had been a long time since she’d needed her dad’s permission for anything.
“Sure. That’d be great.” Her lips quirked when she added, “Thanks for not arresting me.” He grinned widely, making her belly flip-flop.
“My pleasure. Get a key.” He winked at her before turning away.
Her dad hugged her tight as they watched him stride across the lawn back to his own two-story house with the same wide wraparound porch. As he got closer, motion lights flooded the yard. She chuckled and looked up to find her dad beaming. She noticed more lines creasing his eyes and mouth than she remembered from five years ago, but aging seemed to agree with him.
“You’re home,” he repeated, wearing a sappy grin. She laughed.
“I’m home.” Lucy gave him another hard, quick squeeze before they moved toward the house. She kept the “for now” to herself this time.
“Your mom is going to be thrilled.” He opened the door and let her go through first.
“Well, let’s surprise her in the morning because I really need some sleep.”
He gave her a playful nudge on the shoulder, his eyes crinkling from his smile. “Just be grateful you’re not sleeping in a cell.”
When the porch light went out next door Alex let himself into his own home. Tossing his keys on the wide-planked entry table, he tossed his jacket on one of the hooks he had hung in the hall. He didn’t let himself take a whiff to see if it smelled like her. Instead, he toed off his shoes. He yanked the hem of his shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning it as he walked over the oak hardwood floors he’d installed himself.
In his bedroom, he unloaded his gun, locked it up, and thought of the way Lucy had shivered in the cool night air. The way she’d laughed and given him a full-body hug. She looked good. Better than good. Long, rich-brown hair that tumbled down her back. Her face had matured with grace and filled out some. Her body … well, it had matured just fine, too, from what he could see in the moonlight and feel in her embrace.
He tossed his shirt into the laundry basket at the end of
his king-size bed, and ran his hand over Furball, who purred in response. As he headed for the shower, he couldn’t get Lucy out of his head. He shrugged to himself as he blasted the water on hot and stepped under the spray. “Not the first time she’s consumed your thoughts,” he admitted. Tucking his chin, he let the water beat on his back and felt his muscles loosen.
The day had started out shitty. For the last month or so, the town’s population of teens had banded together to cause as much grief as they could. Alex wasn’t sure what had brought on the upsweep of petty vandalism, but the episodes were escalating. Today, he’d been called out to Mr. Cantry’s farm because of a fire. Cantry was as old as the town itself and was probably its longest living resident. His ramshackle chicken coop had been burned to the ground. If the fire department hadn’t responded so quickly, the damage could have spread beyond the small structure. There had been no good leads, which meant more paperwork for Alex. When he’d finally dragged his ass home, Lucy Aarons was the last person he’d expected to find. Now, rinsing away the worst of his day, the memory of Lucy’s arms wrapped around him and the feel of her hair grazing his cheek came back. Her subtle, alluring scent had stayed on his jacket just as she’d always stayed in a tiny corner of his brain and maybe even his heart.
“Don’t go there,” he warned as he rinsed his hair. He’d had a soft spot for her since grade school. Realistically, Alex knew better than most that some women weren’t the type to stick around. He was happy in Angel’s Lake. It was more than a town; it was his home, and the people in it were his family. He needed stability the way an addict craved his next fix and had since his mom had ditched him fifteen years ago. He’d never lose that desire to settle and stay settled. Lucy didn’t stay and she never settled. Still, when he crawled between his cool, navy sheets after pushing his disgruntled cat out of the middle of the bed, he fell asleep dreaming about her.
