meant she would have the opportunity to see her goddaughters more regularly than if she decided to reside in town.
If Grady continued to allow it, of course.
She’d have to see him, talk to him and make arrangements. But first, there was a house to settle into and sleep to be had. Marissa got out of the car and grabbed her bag from the backseat. It was nearly dusk and she walked carefully up the pathway, mindful of the overhanging branches from trees and shrubs well past their last prune.
The house was clean but smelled musty, and she quickly placed her things into the spare room before she wandered through a few other rooms, opening windows to allow the fresh evening air to sweep through the place.
She made a cup of instant coffee and drank it black, since there was no milk in the refrigerator, and for dinner settled on the couple of cereal bars and the apple she had in her bag. Once she was done, she took a long shower and tumbled into bed around eight o’clock.
She tossed and turned before finally managing to get just a few hours’ sleep, which left her restless and a little irritable when she was roused around six o’clock the following morning by a strange noise, like rustling bushes, coming from the backyard. Getting out of bed, Marissa padded down the hallway and opened the door to the small mudroom off the kitchen, peering outside. Dawn was peeking over the horizon and she blinked a couple of times to adjust to the sunlight.
And that’s when she saw him.
Earl.
Grady’s two-thousand-pound Charolais bull was eating the geraniums in an overgrown flower bed by the fence. She quickly saw where he’d broken several of the fence palings to squeeze into the yard and let out an irritated sigh.
Marissa shut the door, trudged to her bedroom, grabbed her bag and took out her cell phone. She had the number on speed dial and it took about three rings for him to pick up.
“Marissa?” Grady’s deep voice wound up her spine like silk. “This is a surprise.”
She took a sharp breath. “Your bull is in my yard.”
“Your yard?” He was silent for a few seconds, but she could almost hear him doing that half-smile, half-frown thing he regularly did when they were around one another. “In New York?”
“At Aunt Violet’s,” she explained, her patience frayed.
He took another second to respond. “You’re back in town?”
“I’m back,” she replied quickly. “And your bull is eating the garden.”
More silence. Marissa’s skin prickled. Only Grady could do that to her. Only Grady could wind her up so much she wanted to scream. At eighteen she’d had a fleeting infatuation in him...but then he started dating her best friend and everything changed. It had to. Liz meant more to her than some silly high school crush. And when Liz and Grady got married, she stood beside her friend as her maid of honor and wished them every happiness for the future. And she’d meant it. Her own feelings were forgotten and she’d kept a handle on them for fourteen years. And she always would. No matter how much his deep voice stirred the blood in her veins.
Grady Parker was off-limits.
And he always would be.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
The phone clicked and she took a long breath. Then she raced around like a madwoman looking for clothes to wear that covered more than her short cotton nightdress. Minutes later she was dressed in jeans and a bright red T-shirt and quickly ran a brush through her long blond hair before she hooked it up into a ponytail. She ignored the contact lenses case on the bathroom shelf and pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. By the time she grabbed her cell and shoved it into her pocket, she heard a vehicle pull up outside.
Grady...
Marissa swallowed hard and headed for the front door. She spotted his truck and horse trailer in the driveway and felt the tension knot the back of her neck. She wiped her clammy hands over her hips and opened the screen door.
Seconds later he was out of the truck and walking up the path. Swaggering, really. With the kind of innate confidence of a man who knew exactly who he was. Grady Parker had always possessed that same self-assurance, even in high school. In jeans that rode low on his hips, a black shirt that stretched across broad shoulders, boots and a trademark Stetson, he made a striking image. He was about six foot two and as handsome as sin, with glittering blue eyes, dark hair and a whisker shadow on his jaw. He was cowboy through and through. With old-fashioned good manners and integrity.
But Marissa had no illusions about her relationship with Grady. It was tense, and always had been. When Liz was alive, Marissa had had her friend as a buffer. Now...there was nothing. Just raw, complicated tension that seemed to spring up with a will of its own every time they were within twenty feet of one another. He stalled about five feet from the bottom step and looked up at her, hands on his lean hips. They stared at one another for a moment, and as always her nerves sizzled.
“Hello, Marissa.”
“Good morning.”
He looked at the Volvo sedan parked in the driveway and raised a brow. “New York plates. You drove here?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
His head tilted a little. “Have you seen Miss Violet?”
“I was at the hospital yesterday afternoon,” she said, unmoving. “Thank you for taking care of things until I got here.”
It was Grady who’d discovered Aunt Violet had fallen and broken her leg. Grady who’d got her to the hospital and stayed with her until she was out of surgery. And Grady who’d called Marissa to let her know her great-aunt needed her.
He shrugged. “No problem.”
“I got here as soon as I could.”
“I wasn’t expecting you.”
She straightened her back. “I told you I’d be here,” she said stiffly. “I just needed a few days to sort some things out. I was coming back anyway.”
“Really? For what?”
“To see my aunt,” she said quietly. “And the girls.”
At the mention of his daughters, his shoulders twitched. “Well, they always like to see you.”
His words should have warmed her. But they didn’t. Because there was a bucket load of resentment in them. Marissa pushed back her shoulders and stared at him. “Well, they’ll be able to see as much of me as they like from now on.”
He tilted his hat back. “They will? Why is that?”
“Because I’m staying.”
“Staying?”
Marissa experienced a tiny surge of triumph. He looked as if it was the last thing he wanted to hear. “Yes. I’m home...for good this time.”
* * *
I’m home for good.
It wasn’t what Grady wanted to hear. Not ever. Marissa Ellis was the last person he wanted living in Cedar River. Or living next door!
For a long time she’d been living in New York. Out of sight. Out of mind. Just how he liked it. She’d turn up every now and then and he would deal with it because he had to. When Liz was alive, it had been easy—while Marissa visited, he stayed out of the way. Now it wasn’t so simple. She was godmother to all three of his daughters and he’d promised Liz he wouldn’t cut Marissa out of their lives. But he struggled with that promise whenever she returned.
Because once, long ago, he’d wanted to date her. Sure, it had been in high school. Before he was old enough to know better. She was dazzling back then...with blond hair and brown eyes and a captivating smile. At eighteen he’d been fueled by hormones and lusted after the most beautiful