Kestrel (Hart Briothers #3) (22 page)

“I
don’t really have one. I left my last one a few years ago and haven’t
established myself with a new one.”

“Okay,
angel, that’s something you need to take care of. Your health is important.”

“I
know. It’s just that the last few years haven’t exactly been the best, you
know.”

“I
do know. But on Monday, I want you to call somewhere and make an appointment.
Just for a check up. Now, let’s sit and have a drink. We can talk about what
you need to focus on in the next few days.”

He
mixes us a couple of vodka drinks and we talk about everything that needs to be
done. I show him the big stuff, as in closets and such. My father’s closet is
empty, but not my mother’s. I could never make myself go through her things. I
need to do that, along with my things. Mine won’t take long because I’ve whittled
it down over the years, since I haven’t shopped much. The kitchen is another
thing.
And the linens.
So many to go
through.

Kestrel
looks around for a minute then says, “What do you need to function comfortably
in the guest house?”

“Nothing
really. It’s fully furnished.
Linens, kitchen things, and
all.
But when I move out of there, I’ll want to have things to take with
me.”

“Here’s
what I suggest. Take everything you want from the kitchen, linens, and so on,
pack them up and put them in storage. I’m going to redecorate.
Paint,
change the look in the bedrooms, that sort of thing.
So if you want the bed linens from the bedrooms, towels and so on, feel free.
That way, when you want to move out of the carriage house, you’ll be set.
Whatever you don’t want, call one of the local charities and have them pick
everything up. Use it as a tax write-off.”

“Okay,
one, you’ll need the linens until you redecorate. What will you use in the mean
time? Two, you take the write-off. It’s yours.”

“Good
point on the linens. Pack up the extras that you may want. Leave enough for me
to get by on for all the rooms and baths. After the place is redone, we can
figure out what to do with them then. And no. Technically the write-off is
yours. Take it.”

“Agreed
on the linens and we’ll do a two-way split on the write-off.” I’m firm on this
because he’s being way more than generous.

“I’m
going to ask you something and you have to give me an honest answer.”

Where’s
he going with this? “Okay.”

“Do
you need help with this? You’re facing a big task here.”

“Well,
yeah, I could use help. Moving sucks.”

“All
I needed to know. I’ll send some people over.”

“Wait.
Who?”

“You
don’t need to worry about that.”

“I’m
not taking your charity.”

“Don’t
insult me, angel. I’d like to think I’m more than just a friend and I want to
help you. I can afford it, so please let me.”

As
I begin to protest, he says, “Listen. I’m divided here. Half of me
knows
I’m doing the right thing by buying this house. But
the other half hates what it’s doing to you. The least you can do is let me
help you.”

“Yeah.
Okay.”

He
flashes a smile. It lights up his face. He’s so damn sexy. My hand goes to my
throat because a lump forms. I’m not sure if it’s because of the kindness he’s
shown or the desire I feel again.

“You’re
a very good man, Kestrel.”

My
comment surprises him. “You bring it out in me, angel. You really must have a
halo somewhere over you.”

“I’m
thinking it’s you that must be the angel after all. Will you come up to Ells’
room with me?”

“Yeah.
Come on.” He reaches his hand out and I take it. We walk up the steps and into
her room. It’s not nearly as difficult as it used to be.

There
are three pictures in here I want to take with me. I’ll get the rest when I
close up this room forever at some later date in time. There are also three
pictures of her hanging in the hallway outside the room that I will pack up
later.

“You
okay?” he asks as he stands by my side.

“Hmm.
Yeah. I am, actually. Just thinking about how it’s not as hard as it used to
be.” I turn to him and say, “It’s you.”

“Me?”

“You.
You’ve made me face some things and rethink things.”

“I
hope that’s a good thing.”

Nodding,
I answer, “It is. Nothing will bring her back, including this room. It won’t be
easy, but I know it’s best to let it go.” The desire to feel her tiny arms and
hands fills me and I go sit on her bed. Her favorite stuffed animal, a fluffy
pink poodle, still sits on her pillow, so I grab and squeeze it as hard as I
can, wishing for just one minute I could touch her soft skin again.

“I
wish I could’ve met her.”

“Me
too.” Then I laugh. “She would’ve have told you were too ‘
sewious
’.
She would come up with the damnedest things. What three year old says serious?”

“Carter,
look at your mind. She inherited it from you.”

“Huh.
I didn’t say things like that when I was three. Even my parents were amazed. She
never called me Mommy. It was
Mawmy
. She would drag
it out. Long and slow. I’ll have to pull up her videos so you can see
sometime.”

“I
would love that.”

“You
would? I mean, you don’t have to say that to make me feel good.”

“No.
I’d love to see and hear her.”

“She
was quite the ham.”

“Where
are they? The videos?”

“Downstairs.
You want to see them now?” I’m astonished.

“Yeah.
If it’s not too much of an inconvenience.”

We
get to the cabinet by the computer in the den and I hunt through the stacks of
them and pull out the latest ones.
Her last Christmas, Easter,
and birthday.
We pull another chair up in front of the computer and I
put the disk into the computer. Up pops her face and my flesh instantly breaks
out in goosebumps. Chills run up and down my spine and I want to reach inside
the screen and pull her out just to kiss her sweet face. She wobbles through
the house like a boat without a rudder, the way toddlers so often do. I’m
holding the camera and I can hear myself giggling. Then I say, “Ells, what’s
that behind you?” She says, “It’s the
Chwismas
twee,
Mawmy
.” And she lets out a long, tinkling laugh.

I
pull in air through a compressed trachea as I cover my mouth.

She
has on a green velvet dress with a Santa Claus face and black patent leather
shoes; I could eat her up she’s that cute. And she was mine. For that brief
period in time, that precious little human being was all mine.

Strong
bands of steel wrap around me and pull me into the nest of his embrace. “She
was a beautiful angel. Just like her mother.” The words feel like music as he
says them close to my ear. “No wonder God needed her back in heaven.”

“But
why so soon? I didn’t have her long enough. It’s just not fair.”

“I
know, sweetheart. I know. I wish I could give her back to you.”

I
run my hand over my face to dry the tears, and I look up at him. He gives me a
crooked smile and says, “Let’s get out of here for a while.”

“Where
do you wanna go?”

“I
don’t care.
For a drive.
Anything.”

“Okay.”
We put our jackets and shoes on and leave. Without a destination in mind, we
drive aimlessly through town. He engages me in conversation, but my mind is
still on Ells, and he knows it.

“My
family is coming for Christmas. The whole family.”

“What,
all three of them?” I laugh.

“Well
I invited Kade, but he’s not ready to leave his treatment center yet. And you
may think it’s funny. But wait.”

“Why
are you saying that?”

“Because
you’ll be there too.”

“Oh,
no. Not me. Count me out.”

“Why?
Don’t you want to meet them?”

“Yeah,
right. First off, I’ll be psychoanalyzed by your sister-in-law. Then, I’ll be
overly inspected by your mother. Your brother was bad enough. And you think I
want to spend Christmas like that?”

“My
family wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Like
hell they wouldn’t. Tell me something. What did Kolson think of Ells’ room when
he saw it?”

Silence
greets me.

“Uh
huh. Just as I suspected.”

“It
wasn’t like that. He was surprised you had a child.”

“Kestrel,
you don’t have to cover up for me.”

“I’m
not covering up for you.”

“What’s
going to happen to us when I move from the carriage house?”

“What
do you mean?”

“Exactly
what you think I mean. This is a relationship that began with a deal of a sort
and it’s turned into one of convenience. I’m much stronger than I was when you
initially met me.”

“Not
according to what I just witnessed a few minutes ago.”

“That’s
not fair. I was referring to Ells’ room. Videos are a different matter
altogether.”

“Okay.
Point taken. You are stronger when it comes to her room. But as far as this
being a relationship of convenience, then you and I are on completely different
wavelengths. The women I told you about—the ones I
used
to be
with—those were relationships of convenience. You are different. I
thought I made myself clear on that. And the way you talked about not ever
being involved with men, I took that to mean you weren’t the type to even
consider relationships of convenience.”

He
certainly has me there.

“You’re
absolutely right. I apologize. I don’t do relationships. Of any kind, so I
guess I misled you.”

“What
the hell does
that
mean?” he yells. Then he pulls the car off the road.

“Oh,
shit. Not that. I meant before you. I’m terrible at this.” My head hangs down.

“Please
look at me when you talk. It’s difficult talking to the side of your face, and
arguing while driving isn’t safe, which is why we’re on the side of the road.”

“Yeah,
like this is safe. Pull into that parking lot up ahead. It wouldn’t be great to
get hit out here in the dark.”

He
sees the logic in my suggestion and soon we’re parked in the lot.

“So.
What are we doing, Carter? I thought we were dating, as in seeing each other.”

“You
never made that clear.”

“Jesus.
So you think I rip my life open to you—which by the way I’ve never told
anyone about—and we’re what? Fuck buddies?” Both of his hands rip through
his hair and I briefly wonder if he’s going to yank every strand out by the
roots. “I almost beat the shit out of that rat bastard who insults you and you
think it’s because I hit this every now and again. Well, I’m glad I made such a
gleaming impression on you. I thought the things you said about me that night
at my place were the real deal. But I guess you were just blowing a shit ton of
smoke up my ass, huh?”

“Stop!
That’s not true. Those things I said
were
real.”

“What
do you want from me?
To make a dating declaration to you?
Okay. How’s this. Carter, we are officially dating. Is that good enough?”

“That’s
enough!”

“I
want to know what I get in return.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Seems
to me this is a one-way street. I’m doing all the give and all you do is take.
Think about it, Carter.”

When
I don’t say anything, he says, “The only thing I’ve asked of you is to go to
that party with me at the aquarium. Everything else has been optional. Looks
like you’ve gotten the best part of the deal here. And I’m the one that gets
accused of …”

“Quit!
I’m sorry. I was wrong.” And I feel like shit now because of it. I think about
everything he’s done and here I am treating him like a … oh, God, what have I
done? He starts the car and pulls back on the road. The lights flicker as we
pass and soon we pull into the drive. When we stop, he doesn’t turn off the
car. I look at him and he shakes his head slowly.

“I
need some time alone. Good night.” That’s it. No hug or kiss. Nothing. But who
can blame him? I just shut him down.

Chapter
Seventeen

Carter

Biggest mistake of my life.
Why did I do it? I walk inside and look
at the DVD. Ells is there, but this time I don’t cry. What does make me cry is
Kestrel and what he said. He’s right. I’m a shit. I was so self-absorbed in my
own misery that I failed to see what he’s been doing for me. And I’m the
biggest fool around. So how can I fix this?

One,
I need to get to work in here. There is so much to do and I’ve been lagging
behind on boxing things up. One closet at a time I go at it. By two a.m., I’m
still working. Kestrel has consumed every thought. I’ve known him for almost
two months and it seems like I’m closer to him than anyone. When Harper called
me after the incident in the bar with Simon, she was nuts over Kestrel. She
wouldn’t stop with the questions. I finally had to hang up on her. Then she
called me back and asked me if I knew how rich he was. Of course I had an idea,
but not that kind of idea. She tells me how much money his family
has—like gazillions—and even I’m shocked. Not that it matters.
Money doesn’t make a person. What’s inside a person is the important thing. But
Harper wouldn’t let it go.

“You
need to marry him, Carter.”

“Marry
him? I only started seeing him, for crying out loud.”

“Exactly.
Latch your fingers onto him and you’ll never have to worry about money again,
girl.”

“Harper,
is that all you can think of?”

“Um,
no. That and sex.”

“Yeah.
I gotta go.”

As
I continue to box and sort, I look at my phone and decide to shoot a text to
Kestrel. I know he’ll be asleep, but at least it’ll be there when he wakes up.

I’m really, really sorry. More than I can say. I’m the ass,
not you (like you always say you are). Please forgive me. How can I fix this? I
was so wrong. And you’re right. You
have
done all the work here. Not me. Give me another
chance?

My
finger hovers over send, but then I hit it and it’s gone. I pray he doesn’t
delete it without reading it. As I move to set the phone back down, it dings
with a response.

Why are you up so late?

Is
that it? No answer other than that. Disappointment fills me. But another
message quickly follows.

I forgive you. But you have to come for Christmas and meet
my family, AND act like you’re my girlfriend. AND you have to start thinking
outside of your box, angel.

Shit.

Yes, I’ll be there as your GF. And I’ll start thinking
outside my box.

That
means quit feeling sorry for myself. Which—he’s right. Maybe I need to
hike the Appalachian Trail. With my luck, I’d probably get eaten by a bear.

My
phone dings again.

You never answered me. What are you doing up so late?

Persistent,
isn’t he?

I’m packing closets.

I
don’t get an answer, so I assume he fell back to sleep. Then my phone dings.

Unlock the door.

Shit.
Is he here? I run down the steps and he’s standing on the front porch! The
gates were closed so he had to park on the street.

“Hey,”
I say, feeling a tad shy.

“Hey
yourself. Now come here and kiss me, middle-of-the-night-closet-packer.”

He
doesn’t have to ask me twice. He tastes good, like mint. And he smells even
better.

“Did
you come to keep me company?” I ask.

“No,
I came to sleep with an angel.”

“Oh.”
My hand covers my mouth as I try to quiet the sob. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve
already said as much. And you’re forgiven. Let’s get some sleep. You can finish
packing tomorrow.”

We
go to my room and it’s a mess. Things from the closet are strewn everywhere. He
laughs.

“You
really went to town in here, didn’t you?”

“Uh
huh.”

Then
we climb into bed and I don’t remember falling asleep.

***

On
Sunday, I want to crawl in a hole and die. My arms hurt from tugging, lifting,
carrying, and dragging boxes, hanging garments, and whatever else has been
hiding in my and my mom’s closet for the last two decades. I’m sure there were
elves in there, too. I’ve probably boxed them up somewhere and they are being
donated to some unsuspecting charity.

Kestrel
has been a huge help, though he’s laughed at me for wanting to save some
things.

“No.
What will you do with that?” he asks.

“I
don’t know.”

“Angel,
it’s atrocious. The only use for it would be a Halloween party. Or possibly a
tacky dress party.” He is referring to one of my mother’s gowns she wore to one
of the many debutante parties I had. It really is ugly.

“This
one?” I ask as I hold another one up.

“Good
God. Did you wear that thing?”

“Yes!
It was my ball gown!”

He
did have the decency to apologize. But then he has the nerve to add, “It looks
like a giant cupcake covered in meringue.”

My
mouth forms a huge O as I look at him. “I’ll have you know it was a designer
special.”

“Uh,
special is key here. You were taken, sweetheart.”

I
ball it up and throw it at him. Turning, I point my finger toward an oil
painting on the wall. “Look! Look at that picture.”

He
walks up to it and inspects it. “Shit. That’s
you
? I thought all along
that was Queen Mary of England. But now I can see her teeth aren’t black.”

A
fit of giggles overtakes me and I double over. Between laughs, I eke out, “You
are
an ass.”

“Please
tell me that was torture, because it sure as hell looks like it.”

“No!
I loved it. We all did. It was the thing.”

He
rubs his face and shakes his head. “Jesus. Throw this thing away.”

“It
cost a damn mint.”

“Will
you ever consider wearing it again?”

Howling
with laughter by this time, I say, “Oh, yeah. I can see me in it now.”

“Put
it on.”

“No!”

“Yes.
For me.
Do it. I want to see you in it.”

“You’re
crazy.”

“Fucked
up as all hell.”

I
strip out of my clothes and step into the meringue covered cupcake. He zips and
buttons the dozens of satin covered things up my back. When I turn around, he
cocks his head and then grabs the left puffed up sleeve and jerks it straight down.
It rips right off, leaving the dress sleeveless on one side.

“Much
better. Let me do the other one.” He repeats it on the right. “Now we’re
getting there. Lift up the top layer.”

I
do as he asks.

“Holy
fuck. What the hell is all that under there?”

“Layers
and layers of tulle.”

“Christ.
You could hide a small village under there.” Then his hands grab a fistful on
each side of my hips and yank until a bunch of it tears off. He circles around
me and then says, “Drop that top layer.” Then he eyes me again and says, “That’s
even better. You look more like Little Bo Peep now.”

“Oh,
my God. Just what I need.”

“Go
look.”

It
did make a difference. But I’d never wear it again. It’s dated and
unattractive.

“Ick.
You’re right. This is not me anymore.”

“So,
you’re saying that
used
to be you?”

I
die laughing again. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

“Well,
at least we got a good laugh out of it.”

As
we’re taking the last box downstairs, Kestrel says, “Did I mention to you that
there’s a black tie affair I would like for you to attend with me?”

“No.
When is it?”

He
gets this sheepish look about him that makes him look like a little boy. “It’s
Saturday.”

“Oh.”

“I
meant to ask you last week and it slipped my mind. I’m sorry. Is it a problem?”

“I
need to get a dress. Unless you want me to wear cupcake?” I wink.

“God,
save me. We can go shopping. I’ll take you tomorrow when the movers are here.”

“Who
will supervise?”

“I’ll
get someone to do that. We’ve labeled everything so all they need to do is take
it to the right place.”

“Okay.
But I hate for you to spend money on a dress for me.”

“It’s
my fault. Had I told you when I should have, you could’ve borrowed something or
had more time to find something.”

“But
still.”

“Carter,
I can afford it. Don’t worry about it.”

“And
I’m only going to tell you this once. I don’t ever want anyone, you, or your
family, to think I took advantage of you for your money. I realize you’re wealthy.
But the truth of it is money can’t solve all your problems or bring back loved
ones that you’ve lost.”

“I
would never think that of you.”

“But
your family might. And it would be so far off the mark.”

“I
know and when it comes down to it, I’m the only one that counts when it comes
to how I think about you.”

“True.”

“So,
shopping tomorrow for a dress then?”

I
extend my hand for him to shake. “Deal.”

***

The
closing is smooth. When I get the check, it’s seems weird.
All
that money.
After the debts are paid, there will still be over two million.
Then after the lot sale, I’ll be in fabulous shape. I’ll need to look for a
place to buy. I’m thinking about a condo without any exterior maintenance.

“Congratulations,
you two,” Uncle Foster says. While he didn’t do the actual legal work, he was
there since his office handled the closing.

“Thanks.
I’m glad it’s done. Kestrel will be the perfect owner.”

“Thank
you, Foster. I’ll take great care of the place.”

“I’m
glad to hear it and it’s nice of you to let Carter lease the carriage house.”

“It
worked out well for the both of us.”

Uncle
Foster smiles. “I’m glad you two met.”

“So
are we,” Kestrel says.

We
stop for a bite to eat and then go home. Kestrel is still in his rental but
will be moving in the house next week.

On
Thursday morning, Kestrel flies up to New York for Thanksgiving. He invited me,
but I declined. I plan to spend the day getting settled. All my things are there;
it’s only a matter of putting them in their proper place.

I
really like the coziness of the carriage house. It’s a large one bedroom and
has plenty of space for me. It’s going to be a nice change living here, instead
of the big house, all alone. Kestrel and I decided it might be weird being in
the same place, but we’ve made a decision to do the best we can and talk about
it if things get sticky.

When
Saturday comes, I have a hair and make-up appointment at two. The party is a
dinner dance that starts at seven. It’s almost five when I get home. Why does
it take so long for you to have your hair and make-up done? They did this airbrushing
thing to my face. You can’t see a freckle on my skin. I look like I’ve been
photo-shopped. I’m not so sure about this. It’s almost too phony looking.

My
hair is done in loose waves that are joined in a messy braid in the back of my
head. They’ve somehow entwined flowers within the braid as it hangs down my
back. It looks very delicate. I’m wearing a gold satin halter gown that’s
backless and quite daring for me. The back plunges to a V that ends above my
hips and the front also plunges to a V, showing a lot of cleavage—not
that I’m heavily endowed. I feel quite naked but the sales clerk swore to me it
was very tasteful and elegant. When Kestrel saw it, he didn’t say anything
except, “Buy that damn dress.”

My
shoes are gold platform sandals and I have one pearl necklace left from my
mother’s collection. It was the only thing I didn’t sell because it was from
her mother, passed down from generation to generation. It’s a couple hundred
years old, and I felt too guilty about selling it. The pearls are perfect for
this gown. I put them on with a pair of plain gold hoops, and that does it.
It’s six fifteen and Kestrel said he’d pick me up at this time. Right then the
bell rings.

I
open the door, and he stands there and stares. Of course, I stare back because
he’s in a black tux and looks divine. Thank God he didn’t shave. I run the back
of my hand over his cheek and say, “Mmm, I love this look. You look perfect.”

“And
you … you’re divine, angel. Turn around.”