Riordan (14 page)

heavy enough—but the whole fucking truck. Just as she was trying to figure out how many of the

tables and chairs were theirs, a large SUV pulled up and four men and Mrs. Harrison spilled out

of it.

“Just in time.” She looked at Ordan, then at the men again as he continued. “You guys can

help out and I’ll buy you lunch. Stormy, I’d like for you to meet my sons, all of them, save

Ennis. Where is he, anyway?”

“Doctoring. When I talked to him, he said he’d be along, but it would be a bit. Something

about stitches and a kid that had less sense than he did muscles.” Aedan winked at her. “Hello,

love. Is Riordan treating you right? If not, let me know. I’ll hurt him for you.” Storm told him

she was more than capable of doing that on her own.

The men, not boys, had been at the house the other day when she’d been there and nodded to

them again. They’d been in and out of her shop for weeks now. They were all flirts and most of

them needed their heads bashed in. She was sure some woman was going to do it to each of

them, too. Stormy left them to their teasing each other and talked to the men at the trucks.

“Mr. Smith said you were to get them all. Told us to tell you if you could see your way to

putting a little tent sign on them to say where you got them, he’d be much obliged.” She told him

she could do that. He handed her some little stand up advertising. “He said he’d do the same for

you. And if you’d be so kind as to send your aunts to him whenever you want, he’d like that too.

I think he’s sort of sweet on them.”

Storm looked at her aunts. They were laughing with the Harrison family and having a good

time. She never forgot how much they’d given up to take her in, and it occurred to her how old

they were beginning to look. Turning back to the man, he explained to her how to take the straps

off the tables. She just let him talk. Sometimes it was just easier to let them explain than to tell

them she knew how to do things on her own.

There were ten tables of varying ages, as well as fifty chairs. One of the tables, she’d been

told, had been broken when it was being loaded, so she was short one. Storm had no idea how

she was going to get ten tables in her little shop, much less all the chairs.

“Put the sturdy ones outside.” Storm looked at Bri, then back at the front of the shop. “You

don’t have to serve them, just make it possible for them to have a seat should they want it. And

you’ll need some pretty planters, too. Nothing says homey better than a pot of flowers. You

should also put in window boxes. They’ll freshen it up, too.”

“I’m not really the making things homey type.” Bri laughed and told her she’d help her.

When she also mentioned an awning, Storm let her plan. She was as bad as her aunts in making

more work for themselves. People could just take the stuff home and eat it as far as she was

concerned.

It was a good idea, her Aunt Sally said, and a great way to bring in more business in the

warmer months. The flowers could be watered easily enough, and there was plenty of room for

two tables with a couple of chairs each. Unloading the trucks, Bri picked out the ones she

thought would be the best, and they moved from there.

All the tables fit but one. It ended up going up the stairs to Danny’s new place, because she

knew for a fact that he didn’t have one. The bed that had been dug up for him a couple of days

before was taken up as well. Bri sent one of the boys home for two dressers that she had in

storage, and Danny was all set. He even told her that he’d keep the plants up when she got them

planted for her helping him out.

Ordan ran to the market and picked up some luncheon meats and things to make

sandwiches. When he returned twenty minutes later, she had the bread sliced as well as some

homemade honey mustard whipped up. Her aunts said that they’d watch the place while she

made up a large serving tray of assorted sandwiches. Ordan had even picked up some chips and

several different kinds of salads, such as potato and macaroni. Taking eating utensils to the new

tables, Bri suggested that the bakery might serve sandwiches, too. Her aunts had been saying the

same thing for days now.

“I’ll tell you what, you come in and make them for me and I’ll have lunch served, too. Aunt

Lynn makes the best cucumber salad you’ve ever eaten, and Aunt Sally can make anything you

want with pasta. Her cold mac and cheese salad is out of this world.”

“Deal.” She had no idea why, but Storm had expected Bri to turn her down. She was happy

and a little nervous about having her around so much. What if this thing with Riordan fell apart?

Then what? “You’ll bake the bread, right? And make this mustard sauce?”

“I can do that. But if you don’t mind, we should start out small. That way if it doesn’t work

out, we won’t have a lot of stuff invested in it.” Bri laughed. “You have something else in

mind?”

“Yes. I think that once word gets around that you’re serving lunches like this one, you’re

going to be too busy to get away even for a day.”

Aunt Lynn came to the table and grinned. Storm could only imagine what she was going to

say to her.

“Those two guys up there at the counter want to know if they can have a boxed lunch like

you’re having to go. I told them that it was going to be ten dollars, but they said they’d pay twice

that to have a lunch that good looking.” Bri just grinned at her. “You think we can do that?”

They ended up selling seventeen sandwiches and taking orders for a dozen more for

tomorrow. Bri could not contain her excitement. Storm didn’t even tell her that she’d be making

her own money at this venture, minus the cost of the bread and bags. Storm just knew that there

would be an argument and she was in too good a mood to spoil it with a fight. And it would be,

too, with Bri. She had a stiff backbone that she rarely let people see.

Riordan walked around the living room and wondered why Storm didn’t live here. The

house was set up, beautifully maintained, and even had a staff on duty at all times. As they made

their way to the upper floors, he looked at the portraits hanging from long chains, one right after

the other.

“Relatives?”

Stormy nodded but didn’t say anything else. The man that was leading them up the long

curved staircase reminded him of a butler from a classic movie…starched and stiff, and wearing

his uniform like it was part of his body. And he was English, if Riordan’s ears had heard

correctly. He also thought the man was very nervous about having the lady of the house, as he

had called Storm, in residence.

“This is the master suite. As you can see, things have been left alone, my lady, just as you

requested.” She nodded, and Riordan saw that she was uncomfortable. Whether it was her being

referred to by the title “lady” or the house in general, he didn’t think she wanted to be there.

Could you ask him to leave us alone?
Storm looked at him, then at the butler
. Please? I’d

like to talk to you and he’s not going to like your answer to me, I think.

“Anderson, can you give us a few minutes please? Let Margaret know that Mr. Harrison and

I will be staying for dinner. Thank you.” As he left them, Riordan moved toward her and pulled

her to his body. “You have something to say to me that’s going to piss me off? I’m not in the

mood right now.”

“You hate this place, don’t you?” She didn’t say anything but moved away from him and to

the window. “Why did you want me to see it if you hate it so much?”

“I didn’t. Aunt Sally wanted you to see it. And I don’t hate this place, but find it cold and

unfriendly. Even when I lived here as a child, I didn’t like the way the house seemed to close in

on me.” She sat on the window seat and looked around the room as she continued. “The only

other time I’ve been in this room was just after my parents died. Anderson brought me in here to

ask me what I wanted to keep or toss. I told him what you heard, just to leave it alone until I told

him to take care of it. I still don’t have a clue what the fuck to do with this shit. My parents lived

here for their entire marriage, and I knew less about them than I do your parents in the month

I’ve known them.”

“It’s only a house.” She told him she knew that. “No, I mean it’s not a home, it’s just a

house. My parents’ place is a home. There are pieces of all of us all over the place. Pictures and

things we made for them as kids. You should see our Christmas tree. It’s covered in toys we

picked up, things we made for Mom in school, and pictures. Mom takes a picture of us every

year, frames it, and puts it on the tree with the date on it.”

“The last tree I remember having here was put up by a decorator and taken down by the

same crew. I was never allowed to put a single thing on it, and if I tried to sneak something in,

Mother would take it off and tell me that it was for the guests that came by and not children.” He

felt his heart break for her. “They were never cruel to me. I didn’t get beaten or sent to my room

because of some small infraction. They loved me in a way, I guess, but I was an ornament that

was brought out during parties for a few minutes, then sent to the nursery.”

“How old were you when they died?” He sat beside her on the bench. He could see a

covered pool and a pool house, as well as a large barn that looked freshly painted. The lawns

were perfectly ordered, and he’d bet anything that there was a garage somewhere on the property

that would have cars, older ones, stashed away in it.

“Eleven, nearly twelve. They were both in the same accident, but they didn’t die at the same

time. Mother died instantly and my father died a week later. I always thought that he’d been too

stubborn to die first and wanted to make sure that he stayed the longest. I have no idea

why…like I said, they weren’t bad parents, just unemotional. I think that’s why I enjoy yours so

much.” He nodded. Riordan knew that both his parents loved Storm and could not wait for her to

stop calling them Mr. and Mrs. “I want to show you my room.”

As they moved down the long hallway, he saw more pictures. He wanted to ask her if they

were really all related to her when he came upon a picture of a woman and had to stop and stare.

Storm moved up beside him and smiled.

“My great-great-great grandmother. She is said to have been a hellion. My aunt used to tell

me that she went hunting with her husband one year and bagged the biggest bear. I always

thought that I’d have liked her a good deal more than my own mom.” Riordan thought that the

two of them would have loved each other, and the trouble that they would have gotten into

together would have been legendary. “I look like her, don’t I?”

“You could be her twin.” He noticed the necklace she had on and had to laugh. “Is that a

bear’s claw she is wearing?”

“It is. I have it in my room. Or I used to. I don’t know what’s in there any longer.” As they

started down the hall again, he could tell that she wasn’t as sad about the place. Even her walk

seemed to be—Riordan stopped walking and watched her walk down the hall in front of him.

“Storm, how do you feel?” He was almost afraid to have her answer him. He was excited yet

afraid it was all in his imagination, too. When they’d made love last night, he’d touched her body

and had felt the scars and thought they were smaller, but he’d fallen asleep.

“Fine. Why do you ask? You want to fuck me in my old room?” Her giggle had him

thinking that a lot of things had changed in the last several days. She was relaxed more, her

temper was slower to flare up, and she was smiling more. “What is it, Riordan?”

Instead of answering her, he took her into the first room he found. He knew it was her room

as soon as he looked around. It was what he would have expected from the woman in front of

him as a child. But right now he wanted to see if he was right.

“Take off your clothes.” She grinned at him again, then frowned. “I need to see your body. I

know that you hate to look at yourself, but I love the feel of your skin. I know every inch of you.

But right now, I need to look at you.”

Her pants came off first. Riordan didn’t touch her, even though every part of him wanted to

tear her clothing off and look at her. But when she pulled her shirt up and over her head and

stood in front of him, he knew that he was right. When she turned as he asked her to do, Riordan

had to hold onto the bed that he was near.

“You’re healing.” She turned and looked at him when he spoke. He thought she’d not heard

him so he said it again. “The scar on your back is nearly gone. The smaller ones are gone

completely. And your legs are stronger, too. I can see the muscle tone is back; your calf is thick

with muscles.”

“I don’t understand.”

But he did. And he was pretty sure that’s what his dad had been trying to tell him the other