20

CROWLEY LET HIMSELF into the café the following day well after closing. Leah was in the process of mopping.

“You still full from all those donuts?” She glanced at him while wringing out the mop. After one more pass, the floor was finished, so she rolled the mop bucket behind the counter as he came up beside her.

“Where’s Lulu?” He swiped an extra cold sandwich from the small display fridge. He laid into it at his normal speed.

“I made her go on another play date with her old ladies’ group.” Leah focused on scrubbing a stubborn spot.

“You’ve been really good for her,” he said between bites. “You managed to succeed in something that I’ve been trying to do for the past fifteen years.” He smiled in appreciation.

“She’s been really good to me,” she said as she mopped behind the counter.

Crowley took the last bite of the sandwich and tossed the wrapper. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder to get her attention. She stopped mopping and looked at him. “Leah, would you take a ride with me?”

“I guess. . . . Just let me finish up here first.” She began to mop again.

Crowley pulled the mop from her hand. “Here. Let me finish and you can get washed up.”

“It’s my job. It won’t take too long. A customer shouldn’t do the mopping.” She held her hand out and wiggled her fingers, but he started mopping anyway.

“I’m not a customer. I’m the owner of Lulu’s, so it won’t hurt me to mop my own floors,” he confessed sheepishly without looking up.

Leah blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what he’d just admitted. “What? I thought Lulu was the owner.”

“I own the café but never confuse the fact that she is still the boss.” He chuckled as Leah stared at him. “I purchased the café from Lulu to try to get her to slow down and smell the roses. Once she didn’t have to worry about the books anymore, it freed her up to consume her time with just running the business. So technically, my idea totally backfired on me. I wanted her to retire comfortably and not have all these worries.” Crowley held the mop in one hand and motioned around the dining room with his other.

“Why do you always pay for your food, if you own this place?”

“It’s no one’s business to know I’m legally the owner.”

“Then why admit it to me?” Leah untied the apron and pulled it off.

“Because you and I are going to be friends for a long time, and I think we need to start trusting each other. Don’t you agree?”

Leah nodded, then turned toward the stairs. “I’m going to get a shower real quick.”

“I could help you out with that too,” he teased as he started mopping again.

“Knock it off, Crow,” she said before shutting the door. She thought about locking it but figured he had a key for that door too.

Fifteen minutes later, Leah, wearing a pink cotton shirt that hung off one shoulder and a pair of black leggings, met Crowley at the foot of the stairs. Her hair was still wet from the shower.

“You look as fresh as a spring flower, ma’am,” Crowley said, full of his Southern charm. He pulled her close and nuzzled his nose along her neck to the tip of her bare shoulder, taking her scent in and causing goose bumps to rise on her skin. “You smell as fresh as a flower too.”

“Stop getting fresh with me, and tell me where we’re going,” she said but didn’t pull away from him.

Crowley breathed in her scent one more time before lifting his head to meet her eyes. “I want to show you my farmhouse.”

“You have a farmhouse, too?”

Crowley’s smile widened. “Yes,” he said as he pulled her out the back door where his Gator sat.

“Ooooh . . . can I drive it?” Leah lit up and hopped into the driver’s seat.

“Can you drive a stick shift?” Crowley asked. He climbed into the passenger seat, looking skeptical.

“No, but the ole wise one, Crow, shall teach me.” She smiled.

He quickly went over the mechanics. “You think you’ve got it?”

“Sure. Now which direction?” She pushed in the clutch and brake and cranked the manly machine.

“To the plantation. You know the way.” Crowley fastened his seat belt and reached around Leah to fasten hers as well.

“That is not a farmhouse, sir.”

“Plantation is just a fancy word for farmhouse. Besides, it’s what my family has always called it.”

Leah took off slowly, making the engine stall. She tried again and got it on the second try. She followed his directions and had no trouble dropping into the right gears.

“Not bad, Lee.”

“Being street smart requires picking up on things easily.” She met his gaze, which didn’t appear too happy with her comment. She wished she could take it back. If he only knew . . .

The gate was already open when they arrived at the plantation. Leah looked at him questioningly.

“I came out earlier today. Head up and park by the front porch,” he instructed. After she parked, Crowley led her along the driveway.

“I’d like to show you one of my favorite spots before we go inside, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure. We’re in no hurry, right?” she asked.

He smiled. “No hurry at all.” They walked halfway back down the drive, and Crowley went to sit underneath one of the giant oak trees.

Leah followed him. She rested her back against the trunk and looked at the perfect view of the house. It looked like a breathtaking painting, with the silver moss gently blowing from the tree branches, framing the mansion.

Crowley stretched out on his side in front of Leah to take in the view of her. She was a view he had become quite fond of.

“How does such a young man as you acquire a place like this?” Leah asked and continued taking in the scenery.

“It’s been in my family for generations. My dad’s parents lived here when I was growing up. Grandpa Mason was a real estate tycoon. He gave my parents the town house as a wedding gift with the orders to fill the place with children. They tried for years with no success. They eventually gave up and just started spoiling all of the town’s kids rotten.”

Crowley paused to sit up and propped one of his legs on a thick, exposed root. “I gave my parents an unexpected surprise on my momma’s forty-fifth birthday. She thought she was going through menopause, but she turned out to be pregnant instead.” He smiled at the memory of her sharing this story with him many times during his childhood.

“After I turned sixteen, my grandparents decided to retire to Europe and signed all of their properties over to me at my parents’ request. I also got a fat trust fund to go along with that gift. That day was the first time I realized how wealthy my family actually was. We didn’t live the way the rich do. My parents taught me to stand as a strong man without having the materials of this world propping me up.”

“I’m speechless,” Leah whispered.

“Well, soon after the paperwork was complete, my momma and I started a full-scale renovation project with the plantation. Before we got too far, the old structure caught fire. So we ended up having to start from scratch —researching the original floor plans and recovering as many pieces of furniture as we could.”

Crowley picked at a few twigs as he resolved to finish his family’s story. Without looking at Leah, he continued. “The summer after my high school graduation, the house had been completely rebuilt. The only thing left was to paint and dress it up. Me and Momma’s summer project was to hustle at getting it completed before I headed off to college.” He shook his head. “She was so excited to do this with me. We had it all planned out. Then she went to the doctor with a persistent chest cold, and two weeks after that she was diagnosed with lung cancer.”

“That’s awful,” Leah whispered. She reached over to hold his hand as he regained his composure.

“The worst part is she never smoked a cigarette in her entire life. I see people smoking away their health and I just want to scream at them. Why her and not them?”

Leah noticed his normal casualness had slipped away with his brutal honesty.

“They fought it the best they could . . . surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation. It just didn’t respond well to treatment.” Crowley sat silent for a few moments before continuing. “My momma was a woman full of life. She could bring a room to life with her laughter. She loved laughing and joking around. She said you weren’t truly living if you weren’t laughing.”

“So that’s where you get it. That grin of yours is magic,” Leah said.

Crowley shrugged. “It was torture to watch the disease just suck the life out of her. My parents rented an apartment near Duke while she participated in some experimental treatments. I wanted to go with them, but they insisted I start college on schedule. I spent every weekend with them, though.” He paused to clear his throat and Leah patiently waited until he seemed ready to continue.

“She didn’t quite make it a year, and my dad followed her by winter. The doctor said he died of a heart attack, but I know it was from a broken heart. They adored each other and were always saying they couldn’t live without the other. I guess they truly meant it.”

Crowley steadied himself for a minute before he looked up. When he finally glanced at Leah, a jolt of tenderness washed over him. Leah sat staring at him with a steady stream of quiet tears washing down her cheeks. He reached over and wiped her face gently with his fingertips.

“You’re an orphan too,” she whispered in the hushed breeze.

Crowley slowly shook his head. “No. Never. I’ve been blessed with a lifetime of love, memories, and Lulu.” He scooted over to cradle her into his side and leaned back against the tree trunk. “You have her too.”

Eventually, after her tears dried, Leah drifted to sleep in the lull of Crowley’s comfort. She was roused awake an hour later with the scent of grass and honeysuckle, the scents that engulfed her repeated dream of her daughter. She opened her eyes and found Crowley studying her.

“Sorry I fell asleep.” She rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t sleep well at all last night.” The dream had played in a constant loop in her sleep for the past few nights. The closer she got to Crowley, the more her ordeal plagued her.

“It’s okay. I haven’t slept the best in the last few nights either,” he said.

Leah sniffed the air. “I smell honeysuckle.”

“They line just about the whole property. I love the sweet smell of them. I guess my nose has the sweet addiction too.” Crowley tilted his head and met her eyes. “You don’t like honeysuckle?”

“I do. I actually smell them in my dreams quite often,” Leah said. She sat up and wiped the corners of her eyes. As she finger-combed her curls, Crowley leaned over to touch her hair. She enjoyed having his hands there more than she thought was possible.

“Your hair is getting really long.”

“You don’t like it?”

“You have one of the loveliest heads of hair, Miss Allen.” He slowly ran his fingers through it. “I’m crazy about these curls.” He winked.

“Enough with your flirting, sir. I want a tour of your farmhouse.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They stood and stretched before heading to the front porch. As they stood at the door while Crowley unlocked it, Leah surveyed the deep porch. “One of these days I’m going to sneak over here and sit on this porch all day.”

“Why’s that?” Crowley asked as he scanned the porch.

“It just begs for company.”

Crowley looked over at the grouping of chairs around a small table. “I played many a game of checkers with my grandpa at that table. By the time I was twelve, I could beat him every now and then.” He glanced back at the steps. “Ana would set up tea parties on the steps and make me host them with her along with a few baby dolls. I made her swear on the Bible to never tell a soul that I played such girlie games, and she never did.” When Leah giggled at that, he gave her a pointed look. “Do I need to make you swear on the Bible too?”

“No. Your secret is safe with me, Crowley.” She thought him admitting that was right adorable and had to tamp down the urge to kiss him on the cheek. She followed his gaze over to the porch swing. “Another memory?”

“That was my and my momma’s favorite spot. We’d swing while I laid my head in her lap. She loved to play with my hair.” A small smile played along his lips. “She told me about every time we sat on this swing that I was a gift from God —her most precious treasure on this earth.” He stared at the swing for a few more moments before pushing the heavy black door open and motioning for Leah to go ahead of him.

The cool air of the house rushed to greet Leah as she stepped into the vast foyer. A grand chandelier dripped with elegance from the high ceiling by the cascading staircase. The beautiful wide-planked floors, finished with a rich walnut stain, appeared as though a foot had never been placed on them. Leah hesitated.

“What?” Crowley shut the door behind them and placed his hand lightly on the small of Leah’s back to beckon her forward.

“It’s just . . .” She tried to take it all in. “Wow.”

The foyer opened to a comfortable sitting room with large, thickly stuffed antique wingback chairs in rich burgundy, gold, and blue stripes. A wood-framed antique sofa in a deep-blue-and-cream paisley-printed fabric joined the chairs, with an intricately patterned Persian rug peeking from the edges of the seating area.

An oil painting sat on the mantel of the hefty brick fireplace. The scene was almost exactly the view Leah had taken in earlier of the plantation house framed by the curved oak trees.

Leah looked over her shoulder at the country boy in his signature tattered baseball hat, T-shirt, well-worn cargo shorts, and flip-flops. His ocean-colored eyes were studying her reaction. She glanced around at her exquisite surroundings and shook her head slightly.

Crowley stepped around Leah and faced her, his eyebrow raised. “Well?”

She was quite amused at how Crowley, who always exuded boundless confidence, was actually a bit unsure of himself at sharing his home with a girl.

“I would never have guessed this.” She motioned around. “And you.”

He scratched his stubbly chin as he gazed into the sitting area. “My momma designed this part. All of the salvaged pieces were restored and placed in here.” Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s really not my style, but I left it this way in honor of her.”

“I love how it’s so open.” Leah waved a hand in the air.

“We readjusted the floor plans by taking out several walls. We even had to add closets to all of the bedrooms.”

“How many bedrooms?” she asked.

“Six. The one on the bottom floor was intended to be the office space, and all the rest are on the second floor. The entire third floor is now the office space. We turned the basement into a large game room with a full-size kitchen. There’s also a fully equipped gym. I like to work out alone.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Leah quipped.

“What is?”

“You have to work out.” Leah made a face, making him chuckle.

Crowley pulled one of his hands from his pocket and reached for Leah’s. “Come on,” he said as he led them upstairs.

At the top, Crowley pointed to the right. “There are four bedrooms and two full baths that way.” He pulled Leah down the hall to the left and stopped in front of a pair of heavy doors. “This is the master suite.” He pulled open the doors to reveal a breathtaking room. A massive four-poster rice bed dominated the tranquil space. It was dressed in lush sage green and cream–colored bedding. A charming wooden step stool waited to assist someone into the tall bed. A grand fireplace warmed the space even without being lit.

Crowley noticed Leah studying the oil painting hanging above the mantel. “This picture was painted by a local artist who stood on that very balcony to capture the river view.” He pointed to a set of French doors.

Leah walked over and peered out to the cozy balcony, which held a sweeping view of the river flowing behind the property.

Crowley picked up a small remote from the nightstand. “Hey, watch this.” He aimed the remote at the oil painting and pushed a button. The painting slid up and revealed a flat-screen TV.

Leah grinned. “Very cool, Crow.”

She walked to the right of the bed and peeked into an alcove that housed an inviting sitting area and bookshelf. She turned back to Crowley. “This place is massive.”

“We turned three bedrooms into one.” Crowley placed the remote back on the nightstand. He made his way to an upholstered bench at the foot of the bed and sat down, propping his elbows on the soft bed behind him.

Leah pulled open another set of double doors and found the master bathroom. White marble floors with gray veining and an exquisite wrought-iron chandelier caught her eye instantly. The walls were divided, with the bottom dressed in white detailed wainscoting and the top painted in a shade of soft sage green. A huge claw-foot tub with a swooping back took up one whole wall.

“How hard was it to find such a tub to accommodate the gentle giant?” Leah called out to Crowley in the other room.

“Not an easy find. That’s for sure.”

The bathroom also housed a gigantic walk-in shower with a seamless glass surround that was designed as to not obstruct the view of the space. Leah stepped inside it. “This shower is larger than some bedrooms I’ve had,” she yelled and turned to step out to find Crowley leaning on the doorframe, watching her.

“I’m a big man. I require a lot of space.” He moved out of Leah’s way so she could exit the bathroom.

The room had two more doors. Leah opened one to find an empty walk-in closet. She inspected the doorknob.

Crowley noticed her fascination. “What?”

Leah shrugged. “No locks.”

Crowley looked at her, a bit confused. “A lock on a closet door makes no sense, Lee.”

“I totally agree,” she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. She checked the other door out of habit.

“That’s another closet. And no, it doesn’t have locks either.” He reached for Leah’s hand and began leading her out of the room. “Come on. I’m getting hungry.”

Leah tugged Crowley’s arm, making him stop. “You have a beautiful home, Crowley,” she said sincerely.

“House,” he corrected. “A family makes a home, and this one is lacking.” He gave her a weak smile and descended the stairs.

Leah noticed the sad edge to his words. She wondered why such a wonderful man didn’t already have this house filled with children. He didn’t seem to enjoy the loneliness of his bachelorhood.

Crowley led Leah to the back of the house, where an enormous kitchen and den took up almost the entire space. The kitchen had a funky farmhouse vibe, and Leah could easily spot Crowley’s hand in designing it.

Stainless steel appliances were softened by warm oak cabinetry, the upper cabinets adorned with detailed crown molding. A wood plank ceiling and exposed wooden beams added more character to the lively space, along with black granite countertops and a deep farmhouse apron sink.

A hefty island with a distressed white base and a walnut-stained butcher-block top took up the middle of the kitchen. On it was a three-foot-tall rooster figurine that looked as though it could have strutted right out of the painting at Lulu’s and perched itself in Crowley’s kitchen.

“I’m digging this kitchen,” Leah said as she ran her hand along the smooth granite countertop. She inspected the contents of a set of antique white enamel canisters, finding each one empty.

Crowley reached up to cradle one of the pendant lights hanging over the island. “Me and my dad custom-made these.” The light sconces were crafted from blue mason jars, which were held in place by curving wrought-iron details around the lids.

“Those are the neatest lights,” Leah said as she studied them.

“We took our idea to a local metal artisan, and he helped us create them. I thought they were perfect for a farmhouse kitchen.”

Leah smiled at his simpler term for the plantation. Her eyes moved over to a wall that housed a distressed olive-green hutch with chicken wire inserts on the cabinet doors. Beside the heavy furniture piece, the wall was dressed with a row of vintage tin signs. One of the signs showed a chicken sitting on top of a nest, with creamy writing that stated Fresh Eggs for Sale. Another advertised MoonPies with a yellow half-moon. Leah’s favorite was a black sign with burgundy scripted lettering that declared Life Is Unreliable . . . Eat Dessert First.

“I know you handpicked that one,” she said, pointing at the vintage sign.

Crowley eyed the sign in question with a smile. “Yep. That one definitely spoke to me.” He walked over to the oven and adjusted the temperature knob.

“What are we eating?” Leah asked as she leaned on the counter near him.

“Steak, baked taters, and salad,” he said as he popped two foil-wrapped potatoes into the oven.

“What can I do to help?”

“I made the salad earlier. So all you have to do is keep me company.” Crowley flashed a crooked smile at her.

“Maybe I can handle that.” She smiled back.

“We’ve got a little while on those taters. How ’bout we check out some more of the house?”

“I’d love to.” Leah walked over to Crowley and reached for his hand for the first time, her heart racing in uncertainty. Her extended hand was a much-needed step forward, and with him accepting it, Leah was surprised at how right it felt.

They spent the next hour touring the den, the large washroom, and a hidden passageway behind the staircase. The tour ended in the grand formal dining room. A wood table, with twelve upholstered chairs surrounding it, shone as it sat on top of another richly toned Persian rug. The table was beautiful, but what Leah found intriguing was the large china cabinet.

“What in the world?” she asked, walking over to it.

Crowley followed behind her and let out a small chuckle. “Now that right there makes me miss my momma something awful.” He opened the glass doors and pulled two dinner plates out. The china cabinet housed twenty fine china place settings —each piece in a pattern of its own. The plate in Crowley’s right hand was white with a red-and-gold ring around the edge. The plate in his left hand was blue willow. Leah took them out of his hand delicately and studied the patterns.

“Momma and Lulu spent an entire day in a china shop selecting each mismatched piece. Momma knew she was blessed to live well financially, but she said she’d be darned if she would put up with the pretenses of it.” Crowley chuckled lightly again.

Leah looked over all of the various patterns that seemed so whimsical. “Your mom sounded like my kind of woman.”

Crowley gathered some flatware from the silverware drawer and handed it to Leah. He then pulled two salad plates out, one with a bumblebee in the center with a kelly-green border and the other a lively magnolia flower pattern. He led Leah back to the kitchen and laid out the place settings on the island countertop.

After a hearty supper, Leah helped Crowley with the dishes. As they stood at the sink, Leah noticed how quiet he had become. She nudged him with her hip. “What’s on your mind?” she asked as she handed him a soapy plate.

He shrugged. “This was the first meal eaten in this house since my parents died.”

She felt his confession deep in her chest. “No . . . really?”

Crowley nodded.

Leah roughly did the math. “So this house has just been sitting out here for over ten years, all alone?” She pulled the plug in the sink and dried her hands on a kitchen towel before offering it to Crowley.

He focused on drying his hands. “Lulu kept on about throwing a house dedication party but finally agreed to hold it in the gardens. It was the spring after my parents’ passing, and it seemed too personal . . . too intimate to have the entire world invited in.”

Leah wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. “Thank you for inviting me in,” she said with her head against his chest.

He lightly rubbed her back. “You think you could do the same?”

Leah looked up at him. “Same what?”

Crowley’s hypnotic eyes bored into hers. “Invite me in, Leah,” he whispered.

“I want to, but when I try, the words get stuck. . . .” She looked away.

“If this is going to work —” he gently squeezed her a bit closer into his embrace —“then you are going to have to. Sharing all of this with you ain’t easy for me either.”

“You may not feel the same way about me once you get to really know me.” She knew their relationship would surely be over once he found out she was a murderer.

“It’s a bridge we are going to have to cross shortly,” he warned her. He released her but gathered her hand in his. “You ready to go?”

“Sure,” she reluctantly answered, wishing for more time.

Once outside, Leah headed to the driver’s side of the tricked-out Gator, but Crowley beat her there. “I want to drive.” She pressed her palms together in a pleading motion.

“Not this time, Lee.” Crowley smirked as he slid his hat on backward and took on the air of pure mischievousness. “Buckle up. I’m going to show you how to really drive this thing.”

As Leah snapped the seat belt into place, Crowley cranked the engine, dropped it into gear, and shot off toward a patch of woods beside the plantation. He made quick work of the gears and sent the Gator barreling down a bumpy path at lightning speed, making Leah grab ahold of the arm rails to steady herself.

Crowley reached a clearing, and with precision he took a sharp right and slammed on the brakes, causing the Gator to fishtail back the direction they had just come from. With the dust engulfing them, he dropped it back into gear and shot off again, causing Leah to whoop and holler in true country girl fashion.

In that thrilling moment, she resolved that she must have been born with dirt-road roots twining through her veins. Leah had never felt so alive until stepping foot on the Southern soil of Rivertown, South Carolina.