Until There Was You(79)



“Tear it down?” he asked. “Are you kidding?”

Cordelia turned. “I know. Come on, come on. You have to see the inside.” She typed in a code, then opened the door.

It was incredible. Everything about the house was ornate and…well, expensive, if in need of some care. The walnut staircase, the French doors, the leaded windows, plasterwork and ceiling medallions…it went on and on. Cordelia pointed out a few features, but she seemed almost as in awe of the place as he was, as if she were seeing it for the first time, too. The sun shone through a stained-glass window, pebbling the floor—and the dog, who’d come in with them—with color.

“Doesn’t the town want to save it as a museum or something?” Liam asked, gazing out at the expansive lawns.

“Believe me, I tried. But you know how it is around here. Can’t swing a cat without hitting some historical home where George Washington or Franklin Pierce had a snack. No money in the budget for one more.” She ran her hand along a marble mantelpiece. “Vivian was hoping one of her nieces or nephews would want to live here, but nobody does. A developer made them a huge offer for the land.” Cordelia sighed. “I get the impression Viv thinks that if she doesn’t leave them the estate, they’ll declare her incompetent, or just make her life miserable. Or just stop visiting.”

“What a shame.”

“I know.” She was silent for a minute, then brightened. “Want to see the caretaker’s house? A whole family used to live there, five kids, the caretaker and his wife, who was the cook.”

The cottage was a short walk farther back on the property and was shaded by an enormous spruce. Diamond-paned windows, a stone fireplace, a snug little kitchen. “Viv tried living here for a while,” Posey said, quite the tour guide, “but even that got to be too much once she had her stroke. Isn’t it cute? Imagine being the family who got to live here.”

It was so far from the types of places Liam had lived in as a kid that he couldn’t. A bedroom of his own, rather than a ratty couch that smelled like beer or an air mattress on the floor. A yard full of trees and flowers instead of old car parts. Parents who made meals instead bringing home fast food…when they brought home food, that was.

“It’s really nice,” he said.

“Come on, I’ll show you the grounds. They’re gorgeous. I hope they’ll keep some of the flower beds when they put in the McMansions.”

They went back outside, Cordelia pointing out the occasional rare tree or telling him what would grow where later in the summer. The whole place was like a park, Liam thought—graceful old trees, a gently sloping lawn, rock walls edged with old flower beds, even a stream. They walked, not touching, the breeze gentle, the sun taking the chill out of the air. The dog trotted around, venturing off, then returning, nosing Cordelia’s hand as if letting her know he was back. At the edge of the woods, two deer grazed. The dog barked once but didn’t give chase.

Liam’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. His jaw clenched.

“Problem?” Cordelia asked.

“No…well, the Tates just bought Nicole earrings. Two-carat diamond earrings. She sent me a picture.” He held up the phone for Posey to see.

She whistled. “Wow. Pretty.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But see, I don’t think a fifteen-year-old girl should be wearing five thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry, which is exactly why they’re buying these for her. I’ll tell Nicole they’re a bit much for high school, she’ll get mad, the Tates will tell her she deserves them, I’ll be the bad guy.”

“I guess that’s par for the course, being a dad.”

“Yeah.”

There was a little rock shed in the shade of some pine trees at the far end of the property. Cordelia fished out her keys and unlocked the door. “This was the pump house back in the day,” she said. “And voila.” She took out a blanket, spread it on the ground and sat down. “I come here sometimes for lunch,” she added by way of explanation. Shielding her eyes, she looked up at him. “Have a seat, biker boy. You look tense.”

He hesitated, then sat. The wind made a shushing noise through the pine trees, and a blue jay squawked. Cordelia was right. He was tense. His neck was so stiff it felt like he could barely move his head.

“Here. Put your head in my lap. Shut up, just do it.” Her face was pink again. Liam gave her a long look and felt the beginning of a smile. Any time Cordelia did something that might be construed as suggestive or, perish the thought, romantic, she got all pink. Aside from punching him (twice), she hadn’t touched him today, but there she was, blushing like she’d just popped the question.

For some reason, he found that ridiculously appealing.

He lay on his back and put his head in her lap. “Close your eyes,” she said.

“So bossy,” he murmured, obeying.

“Shush. Now just listen.”

“To you? Do I have to?”

“To nature, dummy. You’ll feel better.”

The wind rustled. Far off, he could hear a Harley with cut pipes tearing through the countryside. Took a while for the noise to fade. Birds chattered and twittered and whistled and whatever else birds did. Somewhere, a crow was clacking. Liam heard panting, then a thud, and a warm weight was suddenly against his side.

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