Part 2 (2/2)
”Actually, I wanted to see if it'd be okay if I stayed with you for a while.”
A smile lit her eyes. ”Of course it is. You can have your old room. How long can you stay? A week?”
He cleared his throat. ”I have some business in town and I'll probably be staying longer than that.”
”Longer?”
He nodded.
”How much longer?”
He shrugged. ”Maybe a couple months.”
She slugged him again.
”Ow.” He covered his arm. ”What was that for?”
”For taking me for granted.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. ”Did you think you could just waltz back here and I'd take you back in a blink of an eye?”
This conversation sounded eerily familiar.
She continued. ”I have a life too. Did you ever think you'd be cramping my style?”
Cramping her style? He frowned. ”I didn't mean to take you for granted. I can find someplace else to stay.”
”Idiot. You'll stay at home.” She kissed his cheek, but her eyes narrowed as she sat in the chair he pulled out for her. ”Why are you coming back for so long? What about work?”
”I'm shooting a movie in Marin.”
”Oh.” She perked up as though it was a pleasant surprise.
”We're shooting it at Pembroke Farms.”
”Oh.” His mom grimaced. ”And Olivia is okay with that?”
”She doesn't really have a choice.” Parker made sure neither of them did. ”She owns a lingerie shop down the street now.”
”Yes, I know.” At his surprised look, she shrugged. ”Why did you think I wanted you to meet me here? I planned to stop by Romantic Notions after. I have a hot date and I wanted to pick up something new.”
”Ma.” He grimaced at the visual.
His mom was still laughing when the blonde delivered their drinks. She chatted with them for a moment before giving them their privacy.
Maggie waited until they were alone and then pointed a stubby finger at him. ”You stay away from that girl.”
”My own son doesn't have the sense of a pigeon. You weren't here to see how you hurt her. That girl doesn't need you messing with her life, not now that she's doing so well.” She eyed him suspiciously as she stirred honey into her tea. ”Why did you pick the farm to shoot your movie? Aren't there other farms? Other towns? I thought you said you were never stepping foot here again.”
The fierceness of her warning shocked him. He picked up the coffee mug and blew on it to cool it down. ”What? No concern about your own son?”
”I wasn't, but Parker wanted it shot here.”
”Everett Parker.” Maggie practically spat his name out. ”Good thing he isn't here too. Olivia will have enough to deal with having you here, much less her father.”
”Guess again.”
”d.a.m.nation.”
He smiled dryly. He couldn't have put it better himself.
Chapter Four.
Olivia turned onto the dirt road that led to Pembroke Farm, sighing in relief as soon as her home came into view.
It'd been a grueling day, and she had Michael to thank for it. Like a bad song he stuck in her head, and she hated it.
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel.
She turned left at the fork in the road and eased her car up the pitted driveway. ”Poor baby,” she murmured, patting the dash. Her Alfa Romeo wasn't the optimal car for pitted dirt roads, but she loved it and couldn't bear to trade it in for a four-wheel drive. At least the silver color masked the dirt that kicked up from the roads.
The sun hadn't set completely, so Gran was probably still working outside. Olivia climbed out of the car, tugged her skirt down, and followed the path leading alongside the house.
Granny Mae's farm was famous. People came from all over to stay here and study her gardening techniques. Mae Pembroke's knowledge of plants rivaled any herbalist's, and she worked magic with vegetables and flowers.
Olivia quickly walked past the empty vegetable patch, thinking Gran was probably working in the flower garden. But no one was there either.
”Herbs,” Olivia decided, knowing Gran never went inside as long as there was light.
She stopped at the gate of the herb garden and looked around. Gran kneeled in a flowerbed, snipping at what looked like oregano. Mae Pembroke looked just like she did twenty-four years ago. Her hair was more silver than gold, her face lined with age, but her brown eyes still sparked and her hands still worked efficiently.
Stepping carefully so she wouldn't trip in her high-heeled Mary Janes, Olivia weaved through the various beds and sat down on the stone bench closest to her grandmother.
”I wondered if you'd come out here,” Gran said, dropping the oregano she cut into the straw basket beside her.
”Why was that?”
”Just had a feeling.” She looked at the plant and obviously decided it was cut back enough because she moved on to the next one.
She didn't know why she bothered to ask. Gran always knew things. It was downright creepy. It was too bad Olivia hadn't inherited that trait. Maybe then she could have foreseen Michael coming back. ”Gran, why'd you take me in?”
Her grandmother looked up from her work, pus.h.i.+ng the straw hat out of her eyes. ”Why do you ask?”
Because, other than her mom, no one else had loved her enough to want her. But she said, ”It couldn't have been easy for you to take in a five year old.”
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