It was always quiet up here on the hill.
But it was extra quiet now that the old man was dead.
I went whole days without saying a word aloud. Whole weeks without seeing another human face besides the one in the mirror. And that was only on the rare occasions I bothered to shave.
No people. No questions. No prying eyes.
It was exactly what I needed.
The morning mist was still clinging to the tree tops, but I was nearly finished with my run. The only sound in the silent woods that surrounded the Dolan estate was the rustle of leaves and the sound of my own breathing. It was steady and regular as I sprinted the last hundred feet of trail that wound back to the house. I was focused and calm and almost mindless with the silent, solitary routine I’d been keeping to for weeks.
Which is why I tripped and nearly face-planted when I heard the sound of wheels on the gravel drive.
I stumbled to a stop. I froze like a deer caught in the headlights and watched the unfamiliar car roll towards me.
“Turn around,” I muttered through gritted teeth. My voice was hoarse with disuse.
It nudged its way cautiously closer to the great house, like it wasn’t quite sure about what it would find there.
I cleared my throat. “How’d you get up here?” I’d put the chain up at the bottom of the hill, but it was nearly rusted through this time last year. It could have easily fallen down. “Idiot,” I berated myself. I should have checked it.
But then again, why would I?
No one ever came up here unless I knew about it first.
And I never left.
“Turn around,” I commanded, louder this time.
Why I thought that would work, I had no idea. Nothing ever went my way. And nothing good ever happened.
So, rather than turn around and leave, the driver of the rental car pulled into the loop in front of the great house and cut the engine.
“Hell no. No. No no no.” I jogged down the last remaining feet of the trail and hit the rolling green lawn at a sprint. “No.” I didn’t know what I thought I was going to do when I reached her. Tackle her to the ground? Shove her into her unwelcome car and push it back to the road?
Charge at her like a crazy person and hope I freaked her out enough that she would forget about this place and leave me alone?
Probably the last one.
But she had the exact same plan.
The car door slammed and a fierce, wild-eyed redhead stomped her way across the lawn in these incredibly sexy yet completely ridiculous-for-this-terrain boots.
It was her. The granddaughter. The one I’d tracked down.
Aria.
She charged at me like an enraged bull, but at the last minute those ridiculous boots betrayed her. Before I could think, I lunged forward to catch her.
Then I ducked. But not quickly enough.
Her slapping palm caught me on the side of the ear and it hurt like hell. “Hey!” I shouted, and let her go.
She tumbled the rest of the way to the ground and for a second time this morning, the only sound was breathing….
But this time from two pairs of lungs.
I clenched and unclenched my fists. I needed to come up with a plan, but the only thing I could do was hate myself for not seeing this coming a long time ago.
“You slapped me.”
“I’ll do it again,” she said dully, with her face still turned to the ground.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
She planted her hands in the grass and took a deep breath. Then she looked up at me with those big blue eyes.
Those hadn’t changed. Everything else about her had, but those eyes were still the same ones I remembered.
All of my anger left me. I reached out a hand to help her up.
She smacked it away. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, pushing herself up on one knee, then the other. “This is my house, Derek.”
A tiny part of me was pleased that she remembered my name.
The rest of me was pissed.
“This?” I swept my hand out to take in the closed-up great house, the maintenance shed, the carriage house, the rolling green lawn and ten acres of woods. “This is not yours, Aria. And even if it was, you gave up any claim to it ten years ago.”
Her eyes flashed hurt and something else. Regret? That made no sense.
Then her cheeks flushed the same shade of bright, angry red as her hair. “That’s none of your goddamned business. And who are you to judge? This place belongs to me.”
Her fury made her eyes blaze. With her bright red cheeks and flame-colored hair, she looked like a bonfire made human. I stepped back two quick paces before I got burned.
That was a mistake
“That’s right. Go.” She took another step forward and stabbed her finger in the center of my chest. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you need to get out. Right now. Before I call the cops.”
I laughed. Maybe that was a mistake too, but I didn’t care. Because the idea of Aria Dolan showing up out of the blue like this and thinking she could kick me out of my house was just too funny for words. “Go ahead and call them.” I shrugged and let her keep poking me in the chest. “They’ll tell you the same thing I just told you. It’s not yours.”
She blinked and stepped back. There was something off about her gaze. She kept dropping it when she spoke, instead of looking me in the eye.
I filed that away for later. Another addition to my list of reasons to dislike her. It was already long, and getting longer by the minute.
“Derek,” she wheedled. She switched from fury to sweetness so fast I got whiplash. “Derek Granger. See? I remember. We go back, right? High school, good old Reckless Falls High. Those were some fun times, right?”
I looked at her steadily. “We barely spoke two words to each other.”
“Yeah, but that’s ‘cause you were this big, cool senior and I was just a lowly sophomore.” She ran her finger up and down the exact place on my chest she had just finished poking. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at me, and goddamn my dormant hormones, I felt a stirring in a place I didn’t want involved in this at all.
She must have noticed, because a smile full of calculated shyness spread across her face. “Come on. Let’s not be mean to each other. You’re a good guy, Derek…”
I stepped back. “See, that’s how I know you don’t remember me. I’m not a good guy. At all.”
She blinked. Then blinked again. Tiny little micro-expressions flickered across her face, like she was trying on all the emotions between happy and sad to see which one would be the best one to use when manipulating me.
I waited, smirking.
Then her expression crashed down into one of utter defeat. “Come on. I can’t… I have to….” She bounced unsteadily from toe to toe. “You can’t be here now. Okay? I can’t have anyone here. I need to be…”
I sniffed. “Are you on drugs?”
She froze and looked up. “What?”
“You’re antsy. You won’t meet my eyes. And most importantly,” I paused and leaned in, forcing her to look me in the eyes. “You’re not making a goddamned bit of sense. So I’m gonna ask you again, are you tweaking right now? Because I’ve got two years sober under my belt and I don’t need to be around anything that’s gonna mess that up.”
Her sharp look made me immediately regret telling her that.
Never mind, I didn’t need her to like me. I needed her to get the hell out of here and go back to whatever fancy penthouse she’d come from. Leave me to my hard-won peace.
“I am not tweaking,” she hissed through her teeth. “I’m pissed.”
“At who? Not me.”
“Yes, you.” She spread her hands. “You’re… squatting. Did you even wait until he was dead before you moved in? Or did you con him into letting you stay here while he was sick and vulnerable? Damn, you were kind of a piece of shit back in high school, but I didn’t think you were so far gone as to take advantage of a sick old man.”
“Watch it,” I growled. “I’ll let you say a lot of things about me. But saying I did wrong by Mr. D. is grounds for me calling the cops on you.”
“Ha! And what would you tell them?” She mimed holding a phone to her ear. “Hello, 9-1-1? The person who inherited the estate I’m squatting in just showed up and caught me, help!”
I had her. “Better check that will again, Aria.”
“What?”
“Your name isn’t the only one listed as a beneficiary. That?” I pointed to the carriage house. “Belongs to me. And I’m quite fond of it.”
She shook her head slowly, then faster. “You really live here?”
“I really do.”
“You can’t…”
“Listen to me. It’d be a lot easier for you to get back into the car and head back out to your fancy life as a spoiled celebrity. You washed your hands of this town. Maybe we don’t want you back.”
I was trying to wound her. I thought it had worked when her shoulders drooped and her eyes closed. If I felt like shit for saying these things, well that was fine. Feeling like shit was something I was used to, and Aria deserved to have this said to her face. She deserved a lot more said to her face, come to think of it. “Did you even spare a thought for him?” I needled her. “He thought of you. He was lying in his hospital bed, but still asked me to turn on the TV so he could catch you getting interviewed. Did you think of him at all?”
“I did.” She lifted her chin and looked me right in the eye for the first time. “I’m not who you think I am, Derek, so cut the guilt-trip. I’m moving in to my house because my grandfather wanted me to… and I need to… and there’s nothing you can do or say that’s going to change it, so just…. Stop.”
“Fine.” I held up my hands. “Do whatever you want with your house. And I’ll continue doing whatever I want with mine. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
A tiny, dangerous smile flickered at the corner of her mouth. “We’ll see about that.”