Read an exclusive sneak peek of Saving Sycamore Bay by Cami Checketts, the next book in the Destined For Love: Mansions series.
Chapter One
The doorbell rang, and Grace Addison clenched the paintbrush tighter. It was either somebody telling her she owed them money or Beau here to tease her about working like a commoner. She’d show him common, paint a stripe right down his perfect nose.
Setting the paintbrush on the tray, she tried to straighten her shirt and her hair, but what could she possibly do with the blonde curls tied up in a kerchief and paint splattered all over an old Auburn U football T-shirt? She sighed. Her days of screaming for her favorite football players seemed long, long ago.
She hurried across the grand entry and swung the door wide. “H-hello,” she said, the annoyance in her voice fizzling out to a reverent whisper.
Standing on her threshold was the most handsome man she’d ever seen in real life. He was no stranger to her, as she’d cheered for him every weekend in the fall. His deep brown skin was smooth and his lips were just awe-inspiring—full, shapely, and so delectable. She and her roommate, Isabelle, used to stay up late at nights discussing what it would be like to kiss those lips. Then there were his deep brown eyes, the type that made a woman want to stare into them for hours. Not to mention his tall, well-built frame. Ooh, she could just picture him in his football uniform. Here he stood on her front porch, dressed in a deep blue suit and smiling apprehensively at her. If possible, he’d gotten even more handsome since last fall. What was he doing on her doorstep? Lord have mercy.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he said all formal-like, sticking out his hand. “I’m Harrison Jackson.”
“I know who you are,” she breathed out. She put her hand in his and felt for a moment like she’d found heaven. “Number twenty-two, best cornerback in the NCAA.”
Harrison let out a grunt that sounded like a laugh and retrieved his hand. “Um, thank you, ma’am.”
Her eyes widened and she wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you act like it isn’t true. I watched every game of your college career and I know you’re the top, just like my mama’s pecan pie is the best in the South.” Well, used to be the best in the South.
This time he did laugh, a deep chuckle that warmed her clear through to her toes. “I appreciate the compliment, ma’am, but if I’d been the best I would’ve been drafted, not working as an accountant.” He grinned, and those white teeth flashing against his dark skin made her feel a bit faint. “Not that I’m complaining. Accounting’s a good career, lots of opportunity.”
She eyed him up and down. That fit body was going to be stuck behind a desk all day? That was like cooping up a snow leopard or a tiger. “No, no, no. You can’t be an accountant. You are a football player, you must play!”
Harrison laughed again. “I’m fine, really, ma’am. I’m doing what I want to do.”
She eyed him, confused by his response and not sure he was being square with her, but then a bigger question begged an answer. “What are you doing on my front porch?”
His smile dimmed. “Mr. Goodman sent me.”
Henry. Her dad’s best friend. He was like an uncle to her. He and her Uncle Mike, her daddy’s former right-hand man, were better uncles than any of her blood relatives. “Is Maribelle doing all right?”
“Not really, ma’am. Mr. Goodman felt his place was with her during her dialysis. But he has a lot of …” His mouth twisted as he searched for the right word. “Concern for you, so he sent me to help.”
Henry had just become her favorite person. He cared enough to send help and to send it with style. Harrison Jackson. It was like a superstar walking right through her front door. How long was he planning to help? If she could talk him into staying in one of the eight bedrooms upstairs, maybe she’d get some rest at night. Nobody and nothing was going to get through all of those muscles.
Grace stepped back, blushing at the thought of him sleeping in the next room over. “Where are my manners? Come in, let me get you a glass of lemonade.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
They walked side by side back to the kitchen. Her mama would be appalled that she didn’t care about having a guest sit in the formal room and bring him refreshment, but Grace was tired—tired of the pomp and circumstance, tired of serving and working, and just all around tired. She’d worked her tail end off. If she wanted to sit in her sunny kitchen and drink lemonade next to this fine-looking man, she’d ignore her mama’s censure from heaven.
She glanced up, way up, to Harrison’s strong jawline. He must’ve felt her gaze, because he gazed down at her. His slow grin made her stomach tumble. “You are Grace Addison, correct? I kind of assumed.”
Grace laughed and gestured to her paint-covered clothing. “You probably thought you’d find me dressed a little classier than this.”
They made it to the kitchen and Harrison held the swinging door open for her. Just the sight of his strong body and that arm holding the door made her feel faint again. Maybe having him stay here wasn’t such a good idea. She’d never get anything accomplished besides ogling him.
“Truth be told, ma’am, I kind of envisioned a big old hoop skirt with your hair in curls and you daintily holding a teacup.”
Grace loved the teasing lilt to his voice. “Gracious me, sir, I’ll go put on my corset and hoops right now.” She laid the Southern drawl on thick enough to frost a cake.
Harrison’s deep chuckle reverberated through the large kitchen, filling up all the nooks and crannies that had survived without laughter this past month. She smiled in return, falling completely in love with his laugh, and gestured to a chair by the butcher-block table. As a child, she’d spent many an hour in here with their cook and close family friend, Aunt Geraldine, and her mama. Generations before, the prejudice was thick, but her parents had dispelled with all of that. They loved their employees like family, which worked well since they all lived and worked under the same roof. Grace had been raised by Aunt Geraldine as surely as her mama, but with money as tight as it was now, she’d had to let everyone go when her daddy died. Aunt Geraldine and her husband, Uncle Mike, claimed they were ready to retire anyway. Luckily Daddy had set up a fund for them that the lawyers couldn’t touch and they’d bought a little house a few miles down the beach.
Grace tried to understand why her daddy hadn’t done the same for her. Her lawyer, Ike, was a very nice man who patiently explained things to her, but he couldn’t change the twenty-year-old will any more than she could. She was only allowed two thousand dollars a month to live and maintain the house unless she either sold the house, married, or turned thirty. Thirty was a few years off, marriage probably further than that, and she’d work two jobs before she sold her house. Two thousand dollars a month would’ve been a fortune twenty years ago, or even back in her college days, but she was finding it wasn’t much to maintain a house and property. She was still making payments to the plumber for the septic tank backing up into the main floor bathroom, and it would take a year to get on top of the bill the electrician had left in her mailbox for updating the outlets to the fridge and stove after they shorted out two months ago. Uncle Mike used to maintain the place, but when she went away to college, Uncle Mike must’ve gotten overwhelmed and worn out. Things were pretty run-down.
Harrison sat and she went to the fridge, coming back with a tall pitcher of lemonade and pouring two glasses full. Sadly, she had no cookies, pie, or anything sweet to serve with it. Her mama was definitely rolling over in her grave right about now.
“Thank you.” Harrison took the glass in his large palm and drained a long swallow. “Warm today.”
“You should take that suit coat off.” Grace reddened, partially because of her implication that she’d like him to take clothes off, but also because she couldn’t afford the air conditioning, so she’d turned it off. It was a warm June day in the South, well over eighty with way too much humidity and no breeze to hope on. “I mean, if you want to.”
Harrison simply smiled at her and shrugged out of his suit coat, placing it on the back of his chair. Grace watched in awe, her jaw gaping slightly. His white shirt was short-sleeved, so his beautiful biceps were on fine display.
“I remember every time you intercepted the ball,” she said dreamily, luckily catching herself before she told him everything she remembered: those large hands snatching the ball out of the air, his biceps bulging through his football uniform …
“You really were a fan.”
“Oh yes, sir. Never missed a home game, and watched all the away games on the TV.” When he shifted as if her admission embarrassed him, she asked, “Do you miss it?”
“Oh yeah. I loved playing.” He shrugged and took another drink, gripping the glass tightly. “But we all have to grow up at some point.”
Her enthusiasm deflated. Harrison should still be playing football and she should still be enjoying college life, but here they were. He was a professional businessman and she was a professional painter and maintenance woman. Ha.
“What did you graduate in?” he asked, smiling at her.
Dang, he seemed like a nice guy. Who would’ve thought it? She’d dated a few athletes in college and some of them had heads bigger than their stats. Harrison should’ve been like that, but he definitely wasn’t.
“I have a bachelor’s of education and I was halfway through my master’s when Daddy passed.” She gestured around sadly. “It was either come home and take care of things, or lose the house to some jokers who want to tear it down and build a massive resort.” She gestured out the large windows at the sweeping back lawn, which overlooked a gorgeous beach on Mobile Bay. Oak trees lined the property, almost a hundred acres of grass, forest, and swampland. She couldn’t even keep the grass around the house mowed and trimmed. The flower beds were a mess and the rest of the property was overgrown. Hopefully her poor mama couldn’t really look down on her from heaven, though Grace always felt like she was.
“I’m sorry about your daddy.” He guzzled the rest of his lemonade and casually reclined into the chair.
“It is what it is.” She fought back the tears, brushing at one that she didn’t catch fast enough. “So what did Henry send you to do?”
He glanced away and rubbed at his neck. She’d most likely embarrassed him with her emotion. “Well, he wanted me to help with your financial trouble and whatever else you need.”
She cocked her head to the side. “How long does he expect you to stay?”
“Until the job’s done.” His gaze met hers again.
“Like, stay here in the house? With me?” She swallowed and lowered her voice. “Please.” Please say yes, please say yes. Did she sound too needy, or not needy enough? She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but if Henry had sent him, she knew she could trust him. She’d really, truly love to have someone around for protection, help, company. Being alone was miserable, and sometimes downright terrifying. Sometimes she heard strange noises in the night or saw lights down on her beach. Her daddy’s gun was a small reassurance, but luckily no one had tried to come into the house yet.
“If that’s all right with you, ma’am. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“The ma’am-ing is making me uncomfortable.” She smiled. “But I’d be much obliged to have you here. I’m struggling.” That was about as much as she could admit to at this moment. She was so far past struggling. She was drowning in loneliness, sorrow, and despair, and had no clue how to balance preserving her heritage and finding a life for herself someday.
He nodded solemnly, and they stood. “Well, then, put me to work, ma’am—I mean, Grace.” He said her name a bit uncomfortably.
“What kind of work were you expecting to do?”
“I can do anything you need—maintenance, yard work, my mama taught me how to cook. I’m not great at painting, but I can learn.” He gestured to her paint-splattered self and smiled. Oh, his teeth were well taken care of. She wanted to write his dentist a thank-you note.
“In that suit?” Grace looked over his six-foot-four glory. She would never want to get him dirty in that fabulous suit.
“I clean up right nice.”
“Yes, you do.” And that was much too forward.
“I meant, I can get dirty and I’ll clean up—not that I think I look good in the suit.” He blew out a breath. “That came out all wrong.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You are not at all what I expected.”
“How so?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Watching you play. You never seemed cocky like some of the other guys, but I just assumed you would be because of how amazing you play and how good-looking you …” She bit at her lip, wishing she could bite off her tongue. “Whew. Time to stop talking.”
Harrison gave her a slow grin. “It’s all right. I’ll take compliments from a pretty lady any day.”
That got her laughing again. As scrubby as she looked right now, she knew he was just teasing her. “Do you have your things outside?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She swatted at him. “Call me ma’am again and I’ll make you sleep in the attic.” She blushed, knowing she couldn’t really threaten him with anything. He was here helping her, and she was in deep debt to him already.
“I can sleep anywhere, ma’am.” He dropped his voice low and his deep brown eyes twinkled at her. Those eyes could be soulful, mirthful, sexiful. Wait, that wasn’t a word.
She glanced over him. “Big guy like you needs a good bed.” She could not believe they were teasing about beds, of all things. A tingle shot up her spine. Harrison Jackson was going to be sleeping in her house. Oh goodness. She needed to call Isabelle and squeal about this or something.
He shrugged. “I’m easy to please.”
Grace thought she’d better curtail the flirting before she revealed exactly how infatuated she was with him. She hurried in front of him and pushed the kitchen door open. He was quick, darting to the door and holding it for her. Of course he was quick; he was Harrison Jackson. She gave him a faltering smile and strode down the hallway.
Henry Goodman had promised her daddy he’d take care of her, but he’d sent Harrison as his replacement. Henry deserved a lot of blessings right now. She’d quadruple her prayers for him and Maribelle.
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