Rosemary Beach: When I'm Gone Part 2

"Good morning, gorgeous. Here's your wake-up juice," he said, handing me the cup. I started to reach for it with my bad hand and stopped. I used my good hand, but Jimmy's eyes were already locked on my bandaged one. "Girl, what the h.e.l.l happened to you?"

I sighed, hating to remember the mess I'd made yesterday. "I fell while cleaning a window, broke a mirror on the way down, and sliced open my hand." I didn't want to give him details. I held up the bandaged hand. "Five st.i.tches. The owner's brother gave me a ride to the hospital."

Jimmy winced. "Ouch. You sure you can clean a house today? That's got to hurt."

"I'm fine. I'll be a little slower, but you can bet I won't be standing on chairs anymore to clean windows," I joked.

He didn't grin, just shook his head. "You are one piece of work, Reese Ellis. Come on, let's get your hot a.s.s to the Car ters'. I also have a number for you to call. Blaire Finlay is a close friend of mine, and she's interested in hiring a new housecleaner. The one she has now is retiring, and she wants someone young. She's got a little tike. It was getting hard for their cleaner to handle his messes. Kid's cute as a b.u.t.ton, though." I took the number he handed me. "Call her. She's a doll. You'll love her."

Another job I was getting without using the agency. This was good. I got to keep all the income from clients I found on my own. "Thanks, Jimmy," I said, tucking the number into my pocket. "I'll call her once my hand is better. I don't want to show up at her house with a bandaged hand."

Jimmy grinned, and his angel face showed even brighter. "She's actually Harlow Carter's sister-in-law, for all intents and purposes."

That didn't really make sense. What did he mean, for all intents and purpose? I figured it didn't matter. Besides, I really liked Mrs. Carter. She was there often when I cleaned, because she had a baby, so I had spoken to her several times. She always tried to get me to stop and have lunch with her. I was sure I'd be happy working for her sister-in-law, too.

"I have to work a fund-raiser benefit tonight at the club. I won't be done until one in the morning. Wish you'd take a cab home. Especially with that b.u.m hand of yours. After cleaning at the Carters', you're going to be tired. And probably hurting."

We had this discussion every day when he had to work late. He always wanted me to take a cab home, but we lived only eight miles from the club, right outside Rosemary Beach and back a few roads inland. I had walked to school, the library, and the grocery store my entire life. I was used to walking to get to places. If I wanted to go somewhere, I had to walk.

I could probably afford a car now, but I couldn't pa.s.s the written test. I had asked my mother to help me once, and it had been a terrible mistake. She'd made sure I understood that lazy, stupid people shouldn't drive cars. It was dangerous to everyone else. I had tried twice now to read the study guide for the written test, but it was no use. The words never made sense to me.

Which was how I knew that my mother and my step father and all the kids at school had been right: I was stupid. I had to be. My brain didn't work the way everyone else's did. I was twenty-two, and I still went to the library and got picture books and tried to read them.

"I bet Harlow would give you a ride after work, if you'd just ask her. h.e.l.l, I'll ask her. People don't get any sweeter than Harlow Carter."

I was not asking her to drive me home. "It's OK. I'll think about calling a cab. I promise," I told him, knowing that I would think about it but wouldn't do it.

Mase.

I hadn't gone to Harlow's last night. I'd gone back to the house and cleaned up the gla.s.s, then called and explained that I was exhausted. I still had sleep to catch up on. The few hours I'd gotten that morning weren't enough.

When I'd woken up to silence this morning, I'd felt an odd sense of loss. Which was odd, considering that Reese couldn't sing for s.h.i.t. I didn't plan on seeing the girl again. Even if I didn't leave on Sunday, I wouldn't be here when she got here. I had an urge to fix all her problems. Which was stupid. She was doing fine without me. But something about those big eyes . . . and h.e.l.l, who was I kidding? There wasn't a part of her body that didn't scream for attention. And I wanted to give her that attention.

A woman like that should have a man. Made no sense why she didn't.

I pulled up outside Harlow's and pushed all thoughts of Reese out of my mind so I could move on from yesterday. Yes, I thought I deserved a motherf.u.c.king trophy for not kissing those plump lips, but that was over now.

The front door swung open, and Harlow came running out, grinning like a little girl. In my head, she'd always be my baby sister. I could still see her pigtails and the gap between her two front teeth as she smiled up at me. She'd had freckles on her nose back then, too. She'd needed me for a long time, and I'd taken care of her. But Grant Carter did that now.

"You're here!" She squealed and threw herself into my arms.

I chuckled at her enthusiasm and held her in my arms as she kissed my cheek. "Sorry I didn't make it yesterday. Long day," I said, feeling guilty for not coming by last night.

"It's OK. I have a full day planned out for us. Lila Kate is sleeping inside, and the housecleaner Grant insisted we need is cleaning upstairs. Which, by the way, don't get me started on that. He didn't like that I was cleaning while Lila Kate was sleeping; he thinks I should be sleeping with her and getting more rest. He doesn't want me cleaning the house." She rolled her eyes as if he was ridiculous. But I agreed with him. Harlow had a heart condition that had almost taken her from us. The memory of nearly losing her during childbirth was still too raw. Lila Kate had been several days old before Harlow had opened her eyes.

"He's right," I replied simply, and Harlow laughed at me.

"Come on in. I have brunch ready. I've been watching the Food Network while giving Lila Kate her bottle in the middle of the night, so I've been into cooking lately. It started an itch."

I followed Harlow inside as she chatted happily. Hearing the joy in her voice and seeing the love shining in her eyes made me really like Grant Carter. I wasn't sure at first, but the dude had won me over. He made my little sister happy. He adored her the way she needed to be adored.

"I'm back inside, Reese. You don't have to keep an eye on Lila Kate. I have the monitor with me. Thank you!" Harlow called up the stairs.

Just as the name "Reese" was sinking in, I looked upstairs to see those baby-blues staring down at me, all wide and surprised. Well, s.h.i.t. So much for not seeing her again.

"Reese, this is Mase, my brother. Mase, this is Reese. She's the best housecleaner in the world. I have Jimmy to thank for pointing her my way."

I saw her cover her bandaged hand with her good one as she forced a tight, nervous smile. She was working with her hand like that. Dammit. Did she not listen to anything I had said? She was so f.u.c.king stubborn. Her st.i.tches had to be burning like a motherf.u.c.ker.

"She's pretty dedicated, too, since she's cleaning your house with five fresh st.i.tches in her palm. Your pain tolerance is really impressive, Reese," I said.

"What?" Harlow gasped. "Oh! Reese cleans Nan's, too?" Harlow swung her gaze up to Reese. "You're cleaning after slicing your hand open yesterday? Why didn't you tell me? I would have never expected you to come in today. You need to rest your hand. You could tear it back open," Harlow scolded her.

I watched as Reese straightened her shoulders and stuck her bandaged hand behind her back, as if that would make it go away. "I'm fine. Really, I am. I woke up this morning, and it didn't hurt at all. Well, maybe a little, but I took my medicine, and it was better. I'm almost done with the upstairs. I won't be but another three hours."

Harlow shook her head. "Absolutely not. You come eat brunch with us, and then Mase can drive you home. I don't want you back here until next week at the earliest. You can't work with your hand like that."

I could see the frustration in Reese's face, but she wasn't going to argue with Harlow. "OK. Let me just put the folded towels in your bathroom, and then I'll be down."

d.a.m.n, woman. "The towels are fine wherever they are. Harlow can put her towels away. Come downstairs." It sounded like an order. But she was pushing my patience.

She nodded stiffly and came down the stairs slowly. She wasn't wearing shorts today. Instead, she had on leggings that ended just below her knee. They hugged her like a glove. I wished her d.a.m.n shirt wasn't so big so I could see her a.s.s in those things.

"I'm sorry he sounds so bossy. He's always been bossy. It's this alpha-male thing he has going on," Harlow said, as Reese stopped in front of us. "Come on, let's go eat. I'm serving some things I just tried for the first time. I can't wait to hear what y'all think about them."

I watched as Harlow walked to the kitchen and waited until she was far enough ahead before looking at Reese. "Let me see your hand," I said softly, trying to ease her tension. It was clear I made her nervous when I was frustrated.

She started to argue. I could see it in her eyes, but she relented and held out her hand to me. I unwrapped it gently and took in the pink, puckered skin. It wasn't infected, but it was abused from cleaning. She needed to put some ice and salve on it.

"I'm getting you some ice. Come on," I told her, holding her wrist and pulling her to walk in front of me.

"I really wish you wouldn't. Harlow will feel bad that I cleaned her house today."

She was worried about Harlow. Why did this not surprise me? "It's fine. Harlow will want you to take care of yourself."

She walked into the kitchen and over to the table, where Harlow was motioning for her to sit.

My relaxing visit with Harlow had just become something different altogether. I walked to the freezer and fixed a bag of ice. Harlow had sat down at the table across from Reese, but I could feel her eyes on me. My sister was reading more into this than there was.

Reese.

This was so awkward.

Harlow was the "sweetheart" he had talked to yesterday. That much I had figured out. She'd mentioned him not being able to make it to see her last night. Which I felt terrible about. And now, here I was again, interrupting their visit. Mase obviously adored his sister, and she felt the same way about him. I had no siblings and no clue what that must feel like.

"Kiro called you?" Mase asked, looking at his sister before taking a bite of the sandwich on his plate.

She smiled tightly and nodded. "Yeah. He's having a hard time being away."

"I'm surprised he made it this long. You going to visit your mom?"

Harlow frowned and stared down at her plate. Something was definitely wrong. Did she have mom issues like I did? And he had said "your mom." Did they have different mothers? "He's worried that I could upset her without him there. He thinks it's best for me to wait until he's back."

Mase let out an aggravated grunt. He didn't seem pleased with her answer. He swung his gaze over to me. "You good? The ice helping?"

I nodded.

"Let's not talk about Dad right now. It's rude to talk about family stuff when we have a guest with us," Harlow said, with a smile that didn't meet her eyes. Something Mase had said had bothered her.

"Your dad has a cool name," I said, hoping to ease some of the tension that had suddenly entered the room. "The only Kiro I've heard of is Kiro Manning. I've never heard of anyone else with that name."

Harlow and Mase looked at each other, and then a real smile broke out across Harlow's face, and her eyes danced with laughter. "I've never heard of anyone else with the name Kiro, either. Except, of course, Kiro Manning."

I had started to agree politely when her words slowly sank in. No . . . wait. No . . .

"I guess I didn't tell you my whole name when I introduced myself," Mase said with a smile.

OK, wait. I wracked my brain. There had been some news or something around the time I left home about Kiro Manning's wife and daughter. I didn't always have access to TV back then.

"You don't watch much TV, do you?" Mase said with a teasing grin, as he took a drink of his soda.

I wasn't about to explain to him why I didn't watch much TV. I just shook my head. "No, not much, ever."

Harlow sighed and then laughed softly. "Someone who doesn't know who I am, and now you've ruined it, Mase."

I could tell she was joking. I just smiled and tried to wrap my head around the fact that I was sitting at a table with Kiro Manning's children. In what universe did that happen? The awkward feeling skyrocketed, and I wanted nothing more than to get away. I wasn't just interrupting a family gathering, I was interrupting a legendary rock star's family gathering. Oh, G.o.d, this was so embarra.s.sing.

I looked at both of them sitting there, so nice, with their easygoing smiles. They seemed like any normal, happy family. They didn't appear to be what you would expect from a rock legend's kids.

"I need to go. I . . . my hand is starting to bother me, and I left my medicine at home. Thank you so much for brunch, and I promise to work overtime next week. You two enjoy the rest of your meal, and I'll see myself out," I said quickly, before either of them could interrupt me. Then I stood and flashed them one more smile before leaving the room as calmly and quickly as I could.

I had just stepped outside when I felt a large hand wrap around my upper arm. "Not so fast. You want to leave, I'll take you. You're not walking."

Mase wasn't holding my arm tightly enough to make me panic, but the firm grip caused my heart rate to spike. I didn't like to be grabbed. I managed to control my reaction. "I, uh, fine. OK. Thank you." It was exhausting to argue with this man. He was going to win. I might as well give in.

He seemed pleased that I wasn't going to put up a fuss. He dropped his hand and placed it on my back, as if to lead me toward his truck. I walked ahead of him fast enough so that his hand couldn't rest against me. I didn't like to be touched. Not like that, especially. Even though reminding myself how much I didn't like to be touched wasn't making the warm, tingly feeling on my back where his hand had been go away. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, just a new one. A very new one. Like, it had never happened until now.

Mase opened the truck door before I could reach for the handle, and he took my hand to help me up. Once again, I was in his truck, but this time, I knew more about him. That he was a good, well-loved brother. That he adored his sister. That he was Kiro Freaking Manning's son.

Holy c.r.a.p, that was insane.

When he was behind the wheel, I glanced over at him. His tall, muscular body was covered in a flannel shirt and faded, worn-out jeans. His thighs filled the jeans out well, and I could see the muscles flex.

"When you get home, put some of that salve on your wound that we got yesterday. It'll soften the skin around it and ease the pain."

"I will," I a.s.sured him.

He nodded and reached for some sungla.s.ses he had tucked into the sun visor and put them on. How did one look s.e.xy while putting on sungla.s.ses? Until that moment, I wouldn't have thought it was possible.

"Do you need to call Jimmy and let him know you got a ride home?"

I shook my head. "No, I was walking home anyway. He has to work tonight."

Mase scowled. "There is cab service around here, you know."

I picked at the bandage and kept my gaze down. I didn't want to give this man my life story to explain why a cab was pointless. I liked walking. It was what I'd always done.

Mase sighed when I didn't respond. "Are you working tomorrow?" he asked.

I didn't have a house to clean tomorrow. It was the day I went to the library and exchanged my books. I would take a walk on the beach and clean my apartment and buy groceries. It was my time for me. "No. I don't work tomorrow."

"Good."

Mase.

Two days after I took Reese home from Harlow's, I was still wondering about her. Worrying about her d.a.m.n hand and her walking everywhere. I was trying like h.e.l.l to shake it. She wasn't my responsibility.

Harlow handed me Lila Kate after she rescued her from her car seat. I held the little miracle baby close in my arms, because she was still so stinking tiny. And the way Grant hovered over her like she might break made me think she just might. I was careful.

"You carry her. I'll get the diaper bag," Harlow said, reaching for the large bag full of Lila Kate's traveling supplies. The bag was bigger than the baby.

"We're just going to meet the Finlays for lunch. She really needs all that stuff for the whole two hours we're gone?" I asked, wondering how it was possible that Lila Kate required a bag that big.

Harlow just grinned and put the strap over her arm, then locked up the expensive SUV our father had given them when Lila Kate was born. "Let's go."

I followed Harlow toward the entrance. "Why didn't we just use the valet?" I asked, thinking it would have been easier.

"Because it takes a while to get Lila Kate and all her stuff loaded. I hate holding up the line."

I glanced at the valet, and there was no one there. I didn't comment, though.