Crazy Love (25 page)

If he could wrap things up with his mom, he’d leave Love a happy boy indeed. He’d spent some time with her and Hank the last week, his respect for the farmer growing by the minute. He had a meeting with Eric Grayson scheduled for tomorrow, not that he expected him to unearth anything startling. Hank Stevens seemed like the real deal and he’d be content to be proved wrong.

Maybe his never-fail gut instinct had taken a holiday? Or maybe a certain redhead had distracted him so he couldn’t see straight let alone think rationally?

Whatever the reason, his sojourn in Love hadn’t been all bad.

Hopefully he’d be welcomed back once Sierra learned the truth.

“I thought you wanted to keep the centerpieces simple?”

Sierra passed a picture to Olivia and continued flicking through the latest bridal magazine, making a mental note: never act as wedding planner for anyone ever again.

She’d stalled as much as possible over the last few days but Olivia had become suspicious, so here she was trying her best to appear interested in wedding stuff when in fact her mind was elsewhere, wondering what Marc was doing since he’d left her bed this morning.

“Simple is good, dear. Maybe I should ask Hank?”

Olivia scrutinized the picture of centerpieces as if looking for a secret code.

This wedding planner gig wasn’t fun. Not that Sierra begrudged this favor for Hank but it was becoming increasingly difficult to stall the couple, particularly with the wedding less than three weeks away. Throw in Christmas and no surprise she had a headache.

Maybe she should get more sleep?

She smiled, allowing her thoughts to drift. She had plenty of time to catch up on zzz’s once Marc left town but right now he could continue keeping her up all night long. The guy was insatiable and she could happily match his pace. Though she wondered what Belle would say next time she took inventory on her condom collection and found two-dozen missing. Sierra could attribute the blame to randy clients, rather than the randy owner.

“Is something funny, dear?”

Great, Olivia honed in on her stupid grin.

“Just these weird wedding cakes,” Sierra said, flipping through the magazine and vowing to concentrate for at least the next half hour.

That’s all she needed, for Marc’s mom to pick up on the fact she was having the best sex of her life with her son.

She may have shared more confidences than she would’ve liked at the bridal shower but discussing her sex life too? No way.

“Sure you’re all right? You don’t seem yourself.”

Olivia refilled their teacups and pushed the cookie plate towards her. “Not that I’m criticizing but you’re way behind on the wedding plans and you look exhausted. Anything I can do to help?”

Yeah, Olivia could start by talking her son into staying a little longer. Or better yet convince him she was the best thing to ever happen to him.

“I’m inundated with work these days.” Lame, but hopefully Olivia would buy it. “Seems like everyone wants to find their perfect match for the holidays.”

Olivia nodded, toying with the napkin on her saucer. “How are things with Marc?”

“We’re good friends.” Sierra clenched her cheek muscles to stop from grinning and giving away how
friendly
they were. “He drops in for coffee and a chat.”

She’d stuck to the truth. She just hadn’t added the part about him never making it back to his apartment until the early hours of the morning.

“I’m glad. Marc needs a woman like you in his life.”

To her surprise Olivia reached across the table and patted her hand. “You’re a special young woman. Hank is proud to call you his family and I agree. You’re warm, generous and high spirited, exactly the type of woman Marc needs.”

“Maybe
you
should consider going into the matchmaking business?”

Sierra chuckled, trying to make light of Olivia’s praise and silently cursing the heat flooding her cheeks. Oddly, Olivia flushed too, though what did she have to be embarrassed about?

“Marc can be rather focused on his career. I’m eternally grateful to you for getting him to stay in Love this week. Whatever you said, it worked wonders. I’ve seen a relaxed side to my son I didn’t know existed and I know you’ve had a major hand in that. So thank you.”

If Olivia only knew…she was a fraud, coercing Marc into staying in exchange for stalling the wedding and though her motives had been pure, she didn’t think Olivia would like discovering her son had stayed around on a bet.

Thankfully, Marc didn’t seem so eager to break up the happy couple any more and he’d been spending some time at the farm. Perhaps they should confess? Besides, the bet had faded into the background now their relationship had developed.

Not that they’d discussed exactly what their
relationship
entailed but she hoped he’d want to continue what they’d started after he returned to LA.

She’d scoffed at long-term relationships in the past. Why stay committed to someone if you never saw your partner? Her idea of being involved entailed two people spending as much quality time with each other as possible, though it looked like her yardstick had changed. She’d have to concentrate on the quality time bit and forget about
as much as possible
.

Could she be satisfied spending one weekend a month with Marc, if that? She knew how important A-Corp was to him; Love Byte meant the same to her. Could two independent souls focused on everything but their hearts make it work? She hoped he’d give them a chance to find out.

“Sierra? I hope I didn’t embarrass you.”

Wrenching her attention back to Olivia, she shook her head. “I appreciate your honesty and compliments. As for me being good for Marc, we’ll have to leave it up to him to decide.”

A cunning gleam twinkled in Olivia’s eyes. “Men can be rather reticent when it comes to matters of the heart. Look at your uncle. If you hadn’t put his data into that computer of yours, we’d never have met. Maybe you should make a stand with my son? Let him know how you feel, make sure you call the shots.”

Sierra didn’t want to discuss this, not here, not now, not ever. Taking advice from her lover’s mother about how to capture said lover was too much, even to her liberal way of thinking.

“Thanks, but we should get back to the wedding. We’re behind and there’s a lot to do between now and Christmas Eve. Now, about the guest list…” She succeeded in deflecting Olivia’s attention though her reprieve was short lived as Hank stuck his head around the door and crooked his finger.

“Sierra, I could use a hand with Tommy. Got a minute to spare?”

“Sure.”

She almost knocked over a chair in her haste to leave the room, belatedly realizing how rude it looked. “That is, if you can spare me for ten minutes, Olivia?”

Olivia chuckled and waved her away. “Go ahead. I’ll try and make a few decisions and we can discuss it when you come back.”

Hank winked. “Thanks, love. I won’t keep her too long.”

Olivia blew him a kiss while Sierra tried not to cringe at their antics. She loved Hank dearly but did they have to do that mushy stuff in front of her?

As soon as the back door closed, Hank slapped a worn Stetson on his head. “You owe me, girlie.”

“What for?”

He headed for the machinery barn and she fell into step beside him, like she had as a wide-eyed ten year old. “I heard Liv singing your praises and poking her nose into your business. Thought you might need saving.”

Sierra chuckled and whacked him playfully on the arm. “You crafty old thing.”

“Enough of the old.”

“Figure of speech.”

She followed him into the barn, inhaling the familiar scent of hay and machine oil, savoring it as much now as she had as a kid. The smell would always be a comfort to her, a reminder of the early days when Hank had been her anchor in a world ripped apart. She’d lost a father yet gained so much more in Hank, the one man who had never let her down. Hopefully, Marc would soon become the second.

“You’ve got feelings for Marc?”

Hank picked up a rag and started polishing Tommy’s already immaculate scoop.

“Uh-huh.”

She perched on a hay bale, chin resting on her hands, content to watch Hank squirm. He’d always looked out for her and she loved him for it, though his routine hadn’t varied much over the years.

As a teenager he’d brought her out to the barn on some pretense, proceeded to fiddle with Tommy while he interrogated and offered advice. He’d never imposed his will or steered her wrong, preferring to offer his opinion as a viewpoint to consider. Yet another quality she admired about him.

“I’ve spent a bit of time with him. Seems like a nice enough fella.”

Hank’s polishing picked up speed as he rubbed the same spot over and over until the tractor gleamed.

“But?”

He paused, glanced up, the concern in his eyes warming her heart.

“You sure he’s the right one for you? He’s heading back to his old lifestyle soon and where will that leave you?”

“I’m hoping he’ll want me to be a part of his life,” she said, voicing the wish she’d been mulling the last few days, hoping she hadn’t jinxed herself by saying it out loud.

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Life goes on.”

She shrugged as if it didn’t mean anything when in fact her life would be empty if Marc walked away without a backward glance.

Surely her judgment wasn’t that off? He seemed to reciprocate her feelings yet could it be his way of letting her down gently? He valued their friendship; perhaps he thought sex was a natural extension of that? A bonking buddy?

She rubbed her forehead, wishing she’d never come out to the farm today. Enough doubts swirled through her head without Hank adding to them.

Hank resumed his buffing, indicating something was still bothering him. “While the kid seems nice enough, I know his type. Business focused. Intent on where their next dollar is coming from. Not sure he’d have time in his life for you.”

She winced, hating having Hank articulate her doubts. “I’ve thought this through. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

Hank’s anxious gaze locked on hers, the depth of his concern making her chest ache. “I know I’m not your dad, but you’ve always been the kid I never had and I worry—”

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Hank paused, his expression solemn. “I don’t want to see you hurt. There are plenty of other nice young fellas around. Better you find a local and settle down, someone who—”

“Not interested in anyone local.”

“That explains a lot.”

Hank stuffed the rag in his back pocket and took a seat beside her on the bale, taking hold of her hand.

“You love him?”

She glanced up, tears welling, as she bit her lip to stop from howling. “Getting there.”

He cupped her cheek with his free hand and brushed away her tears.

“Don’t cry, little one,” his endearment serving to make the tears flow faster. “I’m overprotective. Have to look out for my best girl.”

She swiped at her tears. “Don’t let Liv hear you say that.”

“She’s my best woman.” He smoothed her hair. “You’re smart and if Marc makes you happy, I’ll respect that. And if he’s not worthy of you, I’ll sort him out quick-smart, stepson or not.”

She sniffled and reached for a tissue tucked in her jeans pocket. “I’m blubbering like a kid.”

“You’ll always be a kid to me.
My
kid.”

He hugged her, holding her tight. “I’m always here for you. Don’t ever forget that.”

She snuggled into his embrace and let the tears flow, comforted by his unswerving loyalty.

Hank loved her. If only she could say the same about Marc.

Hank waited until Sierra dried her eyes and headed into the house before reaching for his cell and hitting redial.

“Grayson Investigations.”

“It’s me.”

Eric dropped the formal phone voice. “Hank, you big lug. What’s up?”

“Thought I’d let you know I’m planning on telling Liv the truth tomorrow, so you can give Marc the info he requested on me.”

Eric chuckled. “Sure thing. Can’t wait to see the expression on his face.”

It wasn’t Marc’s surprise Hank was worried about. “Hope Liv isn’t too mad when she learns the truth.”

“Mad? Why? She’s getting a lot more than she bargained for in marrying you. She’ll understand.”

Hank glanced across the yard and through the kitchen window, watching his fiancée finalize wedding plans with Sierra.

“Hope you’re right. Women have a knack of not seeing things the way we do.”

“Yeah, they’re a species unto themselves.”

Hank heard the beep of a fax and knew his friend would be juggling ten tasks at once.

“I’ll let you go. Thanks for looking out for me on this one.”

“No problems. Just remember me when the new fly rod is released and you’re wondering what to get me for Christmas. See ya.”

Hank chuckled and ended the call. Buying his best mate a thank you gift would be the least he could do for Eric buying him valuable time.

He’d spent a few hours with Marc over the last week, down at the river, here at the farm with Liv, and liked what he saw. The truth would surely set his mind at ease.

Loving Liv, marrying her, was the smartest thing he’d done in a long time and he needed to make sure there were no secrets between them before their nuptials.

Glancing at his watch, he headed for the house. This time tomorrow, he’d tell her the truth and hope to God Liv understood.

“This is never going to work.” Flo stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, shaking her head. “I’m going to make a prize ass of myself.”

“Stand still. And stop your bellyaching. Everything’s going to be perfect.”

Sierra tugged the royal blue silk jacket hem down, smoothed the lapels and flicked away a spot of fluff perched on Flo’s shoulder. She stepped back and eyed her masterpiece critically. “You look amazing. William won’t know what hit him.”

Flo stared at her reflection, doubt creasing her immaculate makeup. “I feel so…so…”

“Gorgeous? Elegant? Sophisticated?”

“Terrified,” Flo whispered, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “And dying for a cigarette. Wish I’d never given up the cancer sticks.”