Romancing My Love (Love in Bloom: The Bradens) Contemporary Romance Read online

  “That’s okay. I’ll pick something up. Thanks, though. Oh, and when you share the Pierce and Rebecca gossip with everyone, do me a favor and make me look good. Tell them I’m playing hard to get, going down kicking and screaming.”

  “Well, are you?”

  He pictured a smirk on her face. “Not even close.”

  Chapter Ten

  REBECCA PULLED UP in front of Daphne’s house wearing the smile that had been plastered on her face for the entire day. She’d texted Pierce before leaving to follow Daphne home, and they‘d made plans to meet at his place later that evening. She had wondered if three nights in her car would turn into three years and if she were just fooling herself into believing that she’d find a way back to a more livable home. She could hardly believe she’d gotten lucky enough to find a place to live so quickly, and an affordable one at that. It would have taken her forever to afford a place to live while working for ten dollars an hour at the bar. Luckily, she’d saved every penny she’d earned before quitting, and Daphne had wanted only the first month’s rent and a security deposit of half of a month’s rent, which left Rebecca with a little cash in her pocket, and she’d also be earning enough to pay Mr. Fralin, as promised.

  She stepped from the car and surveyed the quaint brick rambler. The house was fairly benign, with three average-sized windows and a black front door. The front yard was small but neatly manicured, and it would have blended in with the other ramblers on the street if not for the lovely maple tree that stood tall and full just to the left of the driveway.

  Daphne flung her arms into the air. “Welcome to our humble abode.”

  “It’s really nice.” Daphne had been a big help to her throughout the morning, giving her tips on which regular customers were pickier than others, and when she’d seen Rebecca texting Pierce at the end of their shift, Daphne had thrown her arm over her shoulder as if they’d known each other forever and peeked at the message. Sexting your boyfriend? she’d joked. Rebecca had felt her cheeks flush at the comment. She hadn’t had a boyfriend in years, and when she was caring for her mother, sex had been the farthest thing from her mind. And before that, sex had been vanilla, whereas making love with Pierce was spicy as a jalapeño pepper, and since they’d come together, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. The comment had made her contemplate the idea of sexting, which she quickly dismissed. She could be all that behind closed doors, but the idea of putting something so intimate in a text, where anyone could get ahold of it? No way.

  The house smelled fresh, as if someone had just cleaned. The front door opened to a narrow foyer with aged hardwood floors.

  “Daph, that you?” A deep voice came from down the hall, followed by a gray-haired man with a paunch belly.

  Daphne kissed him on the cheek. “Henry, this is Rebecca. Rebecca, this is my Henry.”

  He had serious dark gray eyes, and at the moment they were darting between Daphne and Rebecca as he wiped his hands on a dish towel that was slung over his shoulder.

  “Rebecca Rivera, nice to meet you.” She reached a hand out in greeting.

  “Yes, Daphne told me you were interested in renting a room.” He pressed his lips together.

  “Thank you for giving me the opportunity. I really appreciate it.”

  Henry looked her up and down. “You’re welcome, but we won’t have any partying or men in and out of the bedroom.”

  “No, sir. I’m not like that. I’m two classes away from a business degree, and once I save enough money to take the last of my classes, I’ll be studying in my free time.” She shot a look at Daphne, hoping he wasn’t going to change his mind about the room and wondering why he seemed unfriendly when Daphne was one of the friendliest people she knew.

  He nodded. “I’ll let you and Daph get settled, then. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Daphne opened the foyer closet door. “Feel free to hang your coats, keep boots or shoes, whatever you want, in there.” As soon as Henry was out of earshot, she leaned in close and whispered, “He’s a little embarrassed by this, but he’s really an old softie. He’ll warm to you quickly. I promise.”

  I hope so. She let out a relieved sigh. She could relate to his discomfort, especially at his age. It was one thing to lose a job in your twenties, but in your sixties, she didn’t imagine that there were many places hiring people of retiring age.

  She followed Daphne down the hall. Daphne waved her hand toward a step-down living room to their left. “Living room. Just keep it clean in case you have your sexting boyfriend over.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Tsk. I don’t sext. I’m not even sure I’d know how.”

  “I’m teasing, hon. I wouldn’t have offered the room if you’d come across as a loose type of woman. I’ve been watching you. You’re very serious, and you handle the customers with finesse. Cool and confident.”

  Cool and confident. Rebecca liked that. She followed Daphne through the living room, up one step to a dining room, and through a doorway to a cozy, wood-paneled den. She could see herself curled up on the sofa beneath the reading lamp, studying.

  “This is great.”

  “This room is very soothing. It’s Henry’s favorite room in the house. Come on. I’ll show you the kitchen and your room.”

  She followed her through the dining room to a comfortable kitchen. Light wood cabinets hung from the walls, and white appliances were tucked efficiently into Formica countertops. There was a table for four in the corner of the room. Daphne opened a pantry on the far wall.

  “Food.” She swung open another door. “Basement.”

  Rebecca was glad to see the house was orderly. She and her mother had always kept a neat house, save for the rogue pair of shoes or magazines that seemed to have minds of their own. They walked down a hall lined with photographs of Daphne and Henry. Rebecca noticed that there were no photographs of children, and she wondered if that was by choice.

  She couldn’t wait to put out pictures of her mother in her room. She missed seeing her, and the photos helped. She rubbed the ring on her index finger, thinking of how much she and her mother would have loved living in a little house such as this one. They’d always lived in apartments, and it was Rebecca’s dream to one day own a small house of her own.

  “And this is your room.” Daphne opened the door to a moderately sized bedroom. There was a double bed against the far wall, across from a tall, dark wood dresser. Bedside tables graced both sides of the bed, and light spilled in through a double window that faced the backyard. Daphne opened another door. “And your bathroom.”

  “This is perfect.” Rebecca sat on the bed. It was soft and bouncy. She didn’t mind that she’d be sharing the house with Daphne and Henry. She didn’t care that she might have to share in the yard work, and of course, the housework. She had a new friend and a home to sleep in, and that was enough to make her feel blessed. And, most important, she’d done it on her own.

  And I have Pierce. She smiled at the thought.

  “Daphne, I can’t thank you enough.”

  “You’re helping us as much as we’re helping you. Do you want me to help you bring some stuff in?”

  They unpacked Rebecca’s car, and she went to work putting her clothes away and making her room feel like home. She took the top off of the last box she had to unpack, the most important box, and withdrew three framed photographs. She held one in her hands and sat on the bed, relishing in the image of her mother at eighteen, holding her when she was just an infant. Her mother had been beautiful before she’d gotten sick. She and Rebecca shared the same big eyes and high cheekbones, and before her illness had sucked the color from her skin and the luster from her hair, her mother’s skin had been a shade darker than Rebecca’s and her hair had been shiny with fashionable natural curls. Rebecca studied her mother’s face in the photo. While Rebecca must have gotten her pointy chin from her father, her mouth was all Rivera.

  I miss you, Mom. I think you’d like it here. She ran her finger over the picture and then set
it on the dresser and wondered what Pierce would think of her room. Would he think it odd that a twenty-seven-year old woman didn’t have her own place, or would he not care at all? He didn’t seem to flash his wealth, and she was glad for that. If he had, she probably wouldn’t have given him the time of day.

  And now she couldn’t imagine a day without him.

  She set the other two photographs of her and her mother on the dresser beside the first, and then she withdrew a wooden box that she’d painted in second grade and given to her mother as a Mother’s Day gift. Hand-painted red flowers with blue leaves that only a mother could love adorned the top and sides of the box. She lifted the lid and smiled at the sight of the photograph, cracked with age and glued to the inside of the lid. Her lips were smushed against her mother’s cheek, her eyes closed. Her mother’s cheeks held the color of joy—and life. She’d taught Rebecca so much in what now seemed like such a short period of time. To be confident, enjoy life, and that there was nothing she couldn’t achieve if she put her mind to it. Her mother had been good at dropping lessons like others dropped names, but perhaps the most important lesson Rebecca learned from her mother was the one that went unsaid.

  Life is too short to pretend. Rebecca didn’t pretend in any way. She tried not to hide her feelings, or lack thereof, and she tried not to cover her opinions with lies or to put on airs to seem like something she wasn’t. No, Rebecca had learned to just be herself and to allow the good, the bad, and the excellent to come as it may.

  When she’d met Pierce, she’d pushed away the sparks that had flown between them and tried to ignore the way the air charged and heated and the way his eyes were like a giant vortex of passion and kindness that sucked her right in. In the span of a few days, she’d come to enjoy the heat of his stare as he snuck peeks at her, the way that he laughed a little under his breath and shook his head when they were teasing each other, and the whisper of his breath across her skin. She lay back on the bed, which was now covered with her own sheets and blanket and felt more like her own. She looked up at the ceiling and then closed her eyes. If she tried really hard, she could bring forth his scent and the sound of his voice.

  Her phone vibrated and she reluctantly opened her eyes, wanting to stay with thoughts of Pierce a moment longer, but he was the only person who would text her. She retrieved her phone from the dresser and read Pierce’s message.

  Can’t wait to see you. Almost done with your errands?

  Errands. The word sent a stab of pain through her chest. She hated not telling him the truth, but she believed that for now, keeping the truth from him was the right thing to do. She thought of Henry and wondered if she’d be better off trying to get to know him instead of running off to spend time with Pierce.

  I’m going to be a little longer. Want to skip it and see each other tomorrow instead?

  He texted back a minute later. Not a chance. Want to stay at your place tonight? I can whip over.

  She smiled at his offer, but after meeting Henry, she wasn’t sure they should ever stay in her room. She felt as if it would be disrespectful, and there was no need when they could stay at Pierce’s house. A new worry entered her mind. Would Henry and Daphne mind if she didn’t come home at night? Oh gosh. She probably should have thought this through a little better. She didn’t want to seem unappreciative, but she was a grown woman, after all.

  She texted him back. It’s okay. I’ll be over in a little while. Can’t wait to see you!

  Daphne poked her head into Rebecca’s room. “Hey, Rebecca. Henry made a wonderful roast. Want to join us?”

  She could eat quickly, and this would be the perfect way to get to know Henry a little better. “Sure, thank you.”

  Daphne handed Rebecca a key. “Great. I’ll set another place. I almost forgot to give this to you.”

  “Daphne, I can’t thank you enough. Your house is lovely, and I really appreciate you letting me move in so quickly.”

  “When you told me you’d been living in your car for the past few days, I knew it was fate.” She hugged Rebecca and picked up one of the framed pictures. “Oh, what a beautiful picture.”

  “Thanks. That’s my mom.”

  “She looks nice.”

  “She was.” Rebecca realized too late that she hadn’t told Daphne about her mother’s passing.

  “Was?” Understanding flashed in Daphne’s eyes. “Aw, Rebecca.” She gathered Rebecca in her arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She drew back with a wrinkled brow. “If you ever want to talk, I’m a really good listener.”

  “Thank you.” Rebecca was glad that Daphne didn’t dwell on the topic.

  They followed the warm, spicy aroma to the kitchen, where Henry was cutting the roast.

  “Can I do something to help?” Rebecca asked.

  Henry ignored the question and continued cutting the meat. Daphne put her arm around her shoulder. “Sure. Why don’t you make a salad while I set out the silverware.”

  Rebecca began cutting lettuce and dicing tomatoes.

  “You don’t need to cut them fancy,” Henry said, eyes still on the roast.

  “Habit, I guess. My mom loved colors in our meals, so we always added red, orange, and green peppers, tomatoes, and things like chick peas, and chopped the colorful veggies up real small so they would add more color. If it bothers you, I could—”

  “Henry, Rebecca’s mother passed away.”

  Henry stopped slicing and shifted his eyes to Rebecca. There it was. That look that always seemed to follow the news of her mother’s death.

  “It’s okay.” Rebecca pointed to the diced veggies. “See? She’s still very much around.”

  His smile put a fissure in the steel wall he’d erected around himself. He glanced at her several times while she was mixing the salad.

  At the dining room table, as he piled salad onto his plate, Henry said, “I think I like the salad better this way.”

  Daphne smiled and squeezed his arm. Rebecca loved that they sat beside each other instead of across from each other. She’d never understood the idea of formality at dinnertime. Wasn’t dinner supposed to be about families coming together?

  They ate dinner and talked about Rebecca’s first day of work. It was nice to share the day with them. It was nice to feel like she had a home, too, although after spending the weekend with Pierce, she felt at home there even more.

  “May I ask how you lost your mother?” Henry asked.

  She still hadn’t come up with an answer that would not incite pity, and she loathed the question too much to dwell on coming up with one now. “She had cancer, and I’m glad she’s someplace better now.”

  Henry glanced up at Daphne and drew his thick white brows together. “I’m sorry to hear that. Were you young?”

  She smiled. “It was almost two months ago.”

  “Oh, hon. That’s very recent. Are you sure you’re holding up okay?” Daphne asked.

  And there was the pity again. “Yes, thank you. I’m really okay, actually.” She needed to change the subject to avoid becoming a charity case. “Do you have any children?”

  They exchanged a painful glance of sadness and acceptance blended together.

  “No, it’s just us,” Daphne answered.

  The silence that followed was filled with the unanswered question, By choice? Rebecca sensed that they hated that question as much as she disliked questions about her mother’s death, so she let the silence settle in.

  After dinner Rebecca helped clear the table. “Thank you for dinner, Henry. It was delicious.”

  He nodded. “Did I hear you say you’re taking classes?”

  “Not right now, but I only have two left before I get my business degree, and I hope to take them when I save enough money.”

  “I worked in the business office of the newspaper plant. What do you want to do once you graduate?” He crossed his arms and looked at her with what she’d imagine a fatherly gaze would look like.

  “I don’t know. I’m really good at
negotiations and figuring things out, or at least in class I am. Practically? I’m just not sure. The things I want to do aren’t in line with just one aspect of business. I guess I hope that at some point I can get an entry-level job in a growing business and gain experience in several different areas and then sort it out. I worry I’ll get bored if I’m just crunching numbers, which is why I didn’t go into accounting, and I’m not a marketer, but I enjoy the marketing process.” She shrugged. “I guess the answer is that I’m not sure.”

  He nodded again, which she was quickly learning was his standard response.

  “And this boyfriend of yours? What does he do?”

  Uh-oh. She realized that she needed to talk to Pierce about how to answer those types of questions where his employees were concerned. Was it okay to tell them he owned the resort?

  “He’s a real estate investor.” She began putting away the condiments from dinner, hoping she could shift the conversation away from Pierce.

  “Did he know your mother?” Henry asked.

  “No. Unfortunately, he didn’t.”

  Henry nodded again before patting Daphne on the shoulder and disappearing into the den.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s still coming to grips with his employment status, but he liked you. I can tell.”

  Rebecca began washing the dishes. “It’s okay. He’s very nice.”

  “He is, when he’s not trying to figure out how to handle a roommate after years of only the two of us. Move over, hon. I can do those. We have a pretty efficient agreement. Henry cooks and I do dishes. Besides, don’t you have a boyfriend to sext?” She shoved Rebecca out of the way and took over washing the dishes.

  “Daphne, would you be offended if I spent the night at my boyfriend’s house sometimes? I don’t want to seem ungrateful, or have you and Henry think poorly of me.”

  “Darlin’, you’re a beautiful young girl. Live your life. We’re providing a roof over your head, but you don’t need to report to us.”

  Even with Daphne’s blessing, Rebecca couldn’t shake the feeling that at least tonight she should stay there. She’d felt Henry warming to her when they were talking, and she knew how embarrassing it was to have your life situation change dramatically. She thought making an effort toward him might lessen his discomfort of renting to her—and she needed the room.