Holly Read online

  “Like the Montgomery family?”

  “Yes. I’ve met some of them. Very nice people, and generous with their donations.”

  “So who owns Belle Chere now?”

  “The Beaumonts. I believe the current owner’s name is Laurence.”

  “Larry Beaumont,” Nick said.

  “Lorrie,” Holly said before she thought and Nick turned to look at her.

  “What?!” she said. “I’ve met him. So what? He’s a nice man and he loves Belle Chere. He’ll be the one to keep it for the next generation.”

  Nick drank his lemonade, his face turned away, staring straight ahead toward the interior of the garage. “What does he look like?”

  “Tall, blond. Good looking, if you like that sort.”

  “And you’re in love with him,” Nick said as he got up to put his plate in the sink.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Oh? How far is this Belle Chere from where you’re going to meet your parents?”

  Holly’s face turned red.

  “Come on, Latham, what are you up to? And don’t try to make me believe you’re not going after what you want. I saw how determined you were to get to see an old house. If you brave snakes and pits for a piece of rubbish, what would you do to get your beloved Belle Chere?”

  “I wouldn’t do anything. The truth is, I met Lorrie before I ever saw Belle Chere.”

  “And loved both at first sight,” he said, and again her face turned red.

  Smiling, Nick smacked her on her jean-clad fanny. “You want to go with me to see some more houses, or go back to your place and daydream about some old house and some washed-out, blond rich kid?”

  “Hmm,” Holly said, as though she were contemplating the question.

  When Nick picked her up, twirled her around, and made her laugh, it was as though something was released inside her. Hidden away, buried for years, was her secret love for Lorrie Beaumont. Never had she been tempted to tell anyone about him. That summer she’d managed to keep her parents and her stepsister from finding out about him. In fact, at the end of the summer there’d been a dance at the local country club and her father had introduced her to Lorrie and his parents.

  Maybe it was Nick’s teasing or the fact that she never planned to see him again, but she soon found herself telling him about the summer when she was thirteen, the glorious summer she’d spent with Lorrie.

  In fact, once she started, Holly talked so much that she didn’t notice that Nick drove past the last two old houses without stopping. At the end of the road, near the sign that said NO TRESPASSING, Nick pulled Holly from the car.

  “He taught me how to strip paint,” she was saying, “and I can tell you that I’ve used that knowledge hundreds of times since then. One summer in college I was allowed to work with Dr. Abernathy because I already knew enough to be useful to him. If it hadn’t been for Lorrie—Where are you going?” Dazed, she looked around her. Nick had disappeared into the trees.

  Minutes later, he emerged, pulling a beat-up old wooden canoe out of the forest.

  “I saw this a couple of days ago. It looks like it’s in good shape so I thought we might test it out.”

  Holly looked at it dubiously. She’d been on yachts before and the brawny crew members had rowed them to shore, but could Nick?

  He seemed to read her mind. “I can do something besides ride a motorcycle. Get in.”

  She was quiet for a few minutes as Nick pushed the old canoe into the water, then easily used the oars to guide them onto the lake. It was too early in the season, and too cool for the people in the Easter egg–colored houses across the lake, so they were the only people on its smooth surface.

  “So when did you two get together again? As adults?”

  The sun was going down, Holly hadn’t had any sleep for a long time, and she was sexually satisfied in a way she’d never been before. She was dozing off.

  “Latham!” Nick, said sharply, waking her. “Don’t wimp out on me now. You can sleep tomorrow. When did you and your rich boyfriend get together after his summer of free child labor?”

  Languidly, Holly trailed her fingers in the water. “Never. I haven’t seen Lorrie since that summer. Not in person, that is. There are photos and stories about him on the Internet.”

  “You haven’t seen him since you were thirteen years old?” Nick asked, incredulous.

  Holly narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t answer.

  After a while, Nick smiled. “I want the truth. How far from Belle Chere is the house your parents bought?”

  “Miles,” Holly said, her mouth in a rigid line.

  “How long does it take you to get to his house by water?”

  “You really aren’t a likable person. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

  Nick was rowing and chuckling. “Amazing,” he said at last. “You are so obsessed with some fantasy summer you think you had that you’ve moved heaven and earth to get near this poor, unsuspecting guy.”

  At that, Holly started to stand up, but when the boat tipped, she sat back down, her arms folded across her chest. “You’re despicable. I’m sure your girlfriend had good reason to break up with you.”

  Nick kept rowing, kept smiling. “It is fascinating to see how the mind of a woman works. Let me guess. You found out that your childhood boyfriend was going to be at home this summer so you, somehow, managed to coerce your unsuspecting parents into buying the house a few miles down the river—”

  “Less than one mile,” Holly said. She gave him a look of reproach, but she couldn’t help smiling. He seemed to be honestly amazed at what she’d done—and not a little admiring.

  “And no one suspected?”

  “My stepsister knows I’m after something, but I don’t think she has any idea what.”

  “She probably thinks you want Belle Chere.”

  “I do! I mean, I want the house, but I want the man, too. He really is perfect for me.”

  Nick was quiet for a moment. “You were thirteen. Did you two…?”

  “No!” Holly said emphatically. “Lorrie never touched me. He was like a big brother to me, only I…I…”

  “Lusted after him. I hear you do that with men. Okay, so what’s going on with him in the real world?”

  “He’s a lawyer and he wins big cases, so I can follow him on the Internet. He was divorced last fall and he told some society columnist that he was going to take a sabbatical this summer and stay at his family home.”

  “Belle Chere?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I see,” Nick said, shaking his head in wonderment. “It looks like we men don’t have a chance once a woman decides she wants us.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “You said that.”

  “Bears repeating.”

  “I just want to give it a chance. Is that so bad? I liked him and he liked me, but that was when we were both very young. Now we’re grown-ups and we’re both free so I thought maybe…” She looked up at him, and didn’t like that she wanted his approval.

  “So what am I?” Nick asked. “A sort of prebachelorette party? One last fling before you marry your blueblood and move into the old homestead?”

  Holly thought of defending herself but didn’t. “More or less, that’s exactly what you are.”

  “No chance that you and I…? That we could…?” He wiggled his brows as though asking if they could set up housekeeping together.

  Holly looked away, frowning. Unfortunately, she was beginning to like him. Sure, he made her body sing—and cry and writhe—but then other men had…. Actually, no man had come close to making her feel as Nick Taggert did. But another man could! she told herself. With love and practice, a man could make her feel…

  When she looked up at him, the fading light glinting off his dark hair, she again thought how he looked like a pirate. He was so very good-looking. Heaven, she thought, smiling to herself. The first time she saw him she’d thought of him as “Heaven.”

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