Here with Me

Acclaim for Holly Jacobs

“Jacobs is a sublime storyteller.”

—Romantic Times BOOKclub

And her recent titles

“You’re in for a wild ride as you wonder if love

will prove to be the wisest ruler.”

—Romantic Times BOOKclub on

Once Upon a Prince

“Holly Jacobs has masterfully penned

an absolutely delightful story…”

—CataRomance.com on Once Upon a Princess

“While Be My Baby showcases Holly Jacobs’s

unique humor and wit, this story has more;

it has tender emotions that bring tears to

your eyes. It reveals the real meaning of

family and the healing power of true love.”

—Romance Reviews Today on Be My Baby

Dear Reader,

July might be a month for kicking back and spending time with family at outdoor barbecues, beach cottages and family reunions. But it’s an especially busy month for the romance industry as we prepare for our annual conference. This is a time in which the romance authors gather to hone their skills at workshops, share their experiences and recognize the year’s best books. Of course, to me, this month’s selection in Silhouette Romance represents some of the best elements of the genre.

Cara Colter concludes her poignant A FATHER’S WISH trilogy this month with Priceless Gifts (#1822). Accustomed to people loving her for her beauty and wealth, the young heiress is caught off guard when her dutiful bodyguard sees beyond her facade…and gives her a most precious gift. Judy Christenberry never disappoints, and The Bride’s Best Man (#1823) will delight loyal readers as a pretend dating scheme goes deliciously awry. Susan Meier continues THE CUPID CAMPAIGN with One Man and a Baby, (#1824) in which adversaries unite to raise a motherless child. Finally, Holly Jacobs concludes the month with Here with Me (#1825). A heroine who thought she craved the quiet life finds her life invaded by her suddenly meddlesome parents and a man she’s never forgotten and his adorable toddler.

Be sure to return next month when Susan Meier concludes her CUPID CAMPAIGN trilogy and reader-favorite Patricia Thayer returns to the line to launch the exciting new BRIDES OF BELLA LUCIA miniseries.

Happy reading!

Ann Leslie Tuttle

Associate Senior Editor

Here with Me

Holly Jacobs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To all the Perry Square readers who’ve supported these

stories, from Do You Hear What I Hear? on, thank you.

This one’s for you.

And to the staff at the Harlequin Distribution Center.

I had so much fun visiting with you. Thanks for

all the wonderful work you do!

Books by Holly Jacobs

Silhouette Romance

Do You Hear What I Hear? #1557

A Day Late and a Bride Short #1653

Dad Today, Groom Tomorrow #1683

Be My Baby #1733

†Once Upon a Princess #1768

†Once Upon a Prince #1777

†Once Upon a King #1785

Here with Me #1825

HOLLY JACOBS

can’t remember a time when she didn’t read…and read a lot. Writing her own stories just seemed a natural outgrowth of that love. Reading, writing, chauffeuring kids to and from activities makes for a busy life. But it’s one she wouldn’t trade for any other.

Holly lives in Erie, Pennsylvania, with her husband, four children and a 180-pound Old English mastiff. In her “spare” time, Holly loves hearing from her fans. You can write to her at P.O. Box 11102, Erie, PA 16514-1102 or visit her Web site at www.HollyJacobs.com.

Dear Reader,

Here with Me is a special book for me in part because of Lee and Adam. Theirs is a story about balance. Balancing work and family. Balancing wants and needs. Balancing past and present. Balancing a dream with reality. Both need to find that balance, and they must discover where their true home is. Is it a house, a brick-and-mortar sort of place, or could it be that home truly is where the heart is?

My family moved from our house of thirteen years not long ago. Two of my children had never lived anywhere else. I’ll admit, though I loved the new house, it didn’t feel like home. Then one day, I looked at my family sitting around the dinner table and I had my epiphany…I was home because they were here.

The fact that my discovery parallels my characters’, that I get to examine the world, my life, through another’s eyes is why I’ve been a reader all my life, and why I became a writer. I hope Lee and Adam’s story speaks to you, as well!

Holly

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Prologue

Mary Eileen Singer crept from her grandmother’s house before the sun rose on her tenth birthday, just as the first pink rays danced over the lake. Even though it was August, the morning air was cool. The ground felt wet beneath her bare feet, which was just perfect.

She bent, ran her hands over the damp grass, then raised them to her face and scrubbed.

“Ah, there’s something magic in that first dew. Back in Ireland they said if you washed your face in it, the next man you’d meet you’d someday wed. There’s something magic about becoming a woman, too. You put those two wee bits of magic together and you have something special,” her grandmother had said the night before.

Her grandmother had been right about so many things that Mary Eileen fully expected to soon meet this man whom she’d one day marry.

“When you’ve washed your face in the morning dew, you’ll see him and you’ll know,” Grandma had promised.

Face duly washed, Mary Eileen hurriedly ate her breakfast and dressed carefully. It wouldn’t do to meet the man she was going to marry looking less than her best.

She went and sat out in front of the cottage on her favorite rock, waiting for him.

Waiting was no hardship. Her grandmother’s small cottage overlooked the lake. Not the well-tamed sandy beaches that lined Lake Erie’s peninsula, Presque Isle, farther to the west, but a rocky, wild section of shoreline east of the city.

As she sat, she daydreamed about her soul mate. He’d be tall and he’d smile a lot. He’d want nothing more than to spend all his time with her. He wouldn’t work long hours as her parents did and he’d…

Her imagined list of future-husband dos and don’ts were interrupted by a voice calling her name.

“Mary, Mary Eileen.”

Panic swamped her as she recognized the voice.

What had she done?

This couldn’t be the magic.

Oh, yes she knew that voice. She was waiting for the man she was going to marry, not for Matty Benton. There was no way she was going to marry him someday.

She covered her eyes with her hands. Hoping that if she didn’t actually see him, she’d be safe from the magic.

She heard his feet crunch the ground as he approached.

“Mary Eileen, what are you doing?”

She pressed her hands harder against her eyes so that not even the slightest sliver of light penetrated. “Nothing for you to worry about, Matty Benton.”

“I came to see you,” he said.

“Well, I can’t see you today.” She tried to think of an explanation for her covered eyes and finally said, “I had stuff put in my eyes at the doctor’s and can’t open them until tomorrow. If I look at the sun, I could go blind.”

“Oh.” He paused and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. You can go now.”

Even at ten, Mary Eileen knew she was being more than a little rude, but the longer Matty stayed, the greater the risk. No way did she want to marry him. Not horrible old Matty Benton. If she had to be mean in order to prevent it, she would be.

“That’s what I came to tell you, I am going. I’m leaving Erie.”

“Leaving?” she echoed.

Matty was a pain. He’d moved in with the Johnsons a year ago and was two years older than she was. He should spend his time willingly ignoring her like the rest of the older neighborhood kids did, but Matty wasn’t the type to do what he should do. So not only did he not ignore her, he seemed to live to tease her.

She hated that, but it didn’t mean Mary Eileen wanted him to leave.

“Yeah. Social Services found my dad’s brother. My uncle Paul. He lives in New York City, so I’m moving there.”

“Oh.” New York City seemed worlds away from the sleepy beach outside Erie. “Are you glad?”

There was a small rush of air and Mary could almost picture Matty’s characteristic shrug.

“Doesn’t much matter,” he said.

But it did matter.

She knew it did, even if Matty wouldn’t say so.

“I’m sorry, Matty,” she said softly.

It was her birthday and she was going to meet the man she’d marry. She should be celebrating, but instead, she felt sad and realized it was because she’d miss Matty Benton. He might be a pain, but there were occasions, like now, when he wasn’t teasing her and she sort of liked him.

“What have I told you about calling me Matty?” he asked, his voice all deep and scary.

Matty had never scared her a bit. Annoyed, yes, but not scared. She laughed at his attempt to do so now. “Matty’s better than Matt. There’s just no way you’re a Matt.”

“Everyone else and their brother calls me Matt.”

“They’re wrong.” She paused a minute and added, “But you’re right. You’re not exactly a Matty either.”

“So who am I?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” And she felt a wave of loneliness that he was leaving and she’d never get to find out just what his name should be.

“Sorry about your eyes,” he said.

She felt guilty for that lie. “Sorry you’re leaving.” She thought about telling him she’d miss him, but she couldn’t quite get the words out.

There was another slight rustling of the air, and she knew Matty had moved. Something soft brushed against her cheek.

Matty Benton had kissed her.

Right after that thought, she heard the sound of rapid footsteps down the small stone path.

The gate creaked. “Bye, Mary Eileen. There’s not much I’ll miss about Erie, but I’ll miss you. I left you something on the fence post.”

“Bye, Matty.”

And though she knew she shouldn’t, though she knew she was tempting fate, she cracked her interlaced fingers the merest smidgen and peeked at the boy who was walking away.

“Goodbye, Matty.”

Chapter One

“No, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong…. I like my life just the way it is.” Lee Singer wished she could hang up. But hanging up wasn’t an option, so she worked at tuning out her mother’s you-could-do-somuch-better lecture. After all, she’d heard it so many times she could almost quote it verbatim.

So much potential, blah, blah, blah.

Wasting your life, blah, blah, blah.

If only you had some drive, some ambition, blah, blah, blah.

Mid-lecture, the door opened at Lee’s small Perry Square art shop, Singer’s Treasures, and a man walked in.

Her conversation with her mother faded to mere background static as she studied the customer with an uncharacteristic feminine awareness.

It wasn’t that she didn’t notice good-looking men, it was just that most of the time she didn’t get hit with this sudden zing.

The man in question was tall. At five-six, she wasn’t a tiny woman, but he towered over her. Sixtwo maybe?

Black hair, not a strand out of place, dark eyes that didn’t look as if they missed anything. He was dressed in a neatly pressed polo shirt and Dockers. He wasn’t exactly scowling, but he wasn’t exactly smiling either.

No, he was sort of studying her with an intensity that made her very…

She searched for a word to describe the heart-pounding, blood-roaring feeling his scrutiny gave her. A word to describe how looking at him made her feel.

Desire.

That was it.

Not that she’d act on it. Lee believed herself to be the type of woman who knew that what was on the inside mattered more than how a person was packaged. But this man’s packaging was a sight to behold.

She tried to steady her thoughts and her heart rate, and managed to say, “Pardon me a sec, Mom. A customer just walked in.” She put a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “May I help you?”

“I came about a rental property on Lake Erie. I saw the ad in the paper and it said to contact Singer’s Treasures.”

She uncovered the phone and said, “Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go.”

“I wasn’t finished,” her mother said. “Your father and I have a surprise. We’re—”

Her mother would never be finished because they were never going to see eye to eye on Lee’s life choices. She had realized that long ago, but she couldn’t help but wish her relationship with her mother was different.

“Sorry, Mom, but business calls. And business is supposed to be my priority. Remember? Send my love to Dad.”

Before her mother could utter any further protests, Lee clicked off the power on the portable phone, then set it on the counter.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Parents. You know how they are.”

“Not really,” the man said.

From his expression she could tell she’d made a faux pas.

“I’m sorry,” she offered, though she wasn’t sure what she was sorry for. She decided to take her mother’s advice and for once be all business. “You wanted to know about the cottage I have to rent.”

He nodded, still studying her.

“It’s small, a one bedroom that sits on the lake. It has great views, if you like the water. I usually rent it out by the week. Plumbing, electricity…the basics, but not very fancy.”

A man this pressed and preppy on a hot, humid summer day was the type who was used to fancy…demanded fancy, even.

Her small cottage probably wouldn’t suit him at all.

“Is it vacant?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’ll take it for a month.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a checkbook.

“But you haven’t even seen it,” Lee protested, knowing it wasn’t a very businesslike response.

He ignored her. “How much for a month?”

Lee thought quickly. She’d never been overly aggressive about renting the cottage out and never for an entire month.

The cottages were built by her grandmother and her great-aunt on lakefront property years ago. They stood side-by-side overlooking Lake Erie. Lee now lived in her grandmother’s cottage and rented out its twin.

She wasn’t sure she wanted this man living next to her that long. The feelings he stirred were not conducive to a quiet, happy summer.

Tense. That’s how she felt. Like a string on a bow, pulled taut.

A string that hadn’t been pulled in far too long.

A string she wasn’t sure she wanted pulled.

She named an absurd rate that amounted to what she’d made all of last year renting the cottage out sporadically.

He didn’t blink an eye. Didn’t even pause. He just started writing in his checkbook.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Paying in advance.” He paused and looked up. “I assume you’re not going to object to the month’s rent up front, are you?”

“No, but I…I mean…”

“How do you want the check made out? To you personally, or to the store?”

“Either way,” she said weakly, unsure how he’d managed to rent a cottage she wasn’t sure she wanted to rent to him.

“If I’m going to make it out to you personally, what name should I use?”

“Lee,” she said. “Uh, Lee Singer.”

“Lee?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes. And I suppose if you’re going to be renting the cottage, I should know your name.”

“Adam,” he said, then waited half a beat, watching her intently again. “Adam Benton.”

He thrust out his hand, obviously ready to shake on the deal.

But the funny thing was, Lee absolutely didn’t want to shake his hand…didn’t want to touch him at all. Not because he was scary, but because he wasn’t. Not the least bit.

After her disastrous marriage, she’d sworn off men. But for this one, she might reconsider. And that’s why she didn’t want to touch him.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of any way out of it. So she took his hand, gave it one quick shake, then pulled back. That small bit of contact made her feel as if she’d been running a marathon. Her heart was racing, her palms were sweaty and her mouth was dry.

She nervously fingered her necklace.

“What’s that?” he asked, peering at her neck.

She dropped her hand, hoping he’d shift his attention. “Nothing. It’s just a nervous habit.”

“No, the necklace. It looks unusual.”

“Oh.” She pulled the small glass rectangle out so he could see it. “It’s one of my necklaces. It’s what Singer’s Treasures is known for.”

She pointed down at the glass case filled with jewelry.

Her small Perry Square store specialized in jewelry made from small bits of glass, polished smooth by the lake. Blues, browns, greens and translucent.

Lee took the glass and fashioned it into all kinds of interesting pieces. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets.

In addition to the jewelry, the store sold other trinkets. Small driftwood carvings. Paintings of the lake. Most of the work was hers, although she did display other people’s pieces on consignment.

But the lake was the theme that ran through all the treasures in the store.

Lake Erie was her inspiration.

Her home.

She realized the man, Adam, was studying her again. It was almost as if he was looking for something. She wasn’t sure what.

She dropped her necklace and tried to get back to the business at hand. “Before I cash your check, you should take a look at the cottage to be sure it will suit.”

“You made all these?” he asked, studying the contents of the case and ignoring her comment.

“Yes. Now, about the cottage. You’re sure you don’t want to see it first?”

He tilted his head, then smiled a slow upturn of his lips. Rather than making him look less intimidating, it made him look even more so.

“I’m sure,” he said in a low, smooth voice. “You see, I’m the kind of man who knows what he wants, then goes after it. And right now I need someplace quiet to figure a few things out. Your cottage on the lake should be just right.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she simply said, “Oh. Well, thank you.”

“The key.” There was the slightest hesitation, then he added her name, “Lee.”

“Oh, right.” She rummaged through her desk drawer and withdrew the key. “Here you go. And if you wait, I’ll copy you directions. It’s about twenty minutes from here.”

“Don’t bother. I know the way.”

“But how?” she asked.

He ignored the question. “I’ll be moving in tomorrow. Thank you.”

He turned and headed out of the shop, stopped abruptly and turned. “I’ll be seeing you, Lee.”

Again, there was a weird pause as he said her name.

“Yes, you will, you see—” She started to tell him she lived next door, but he simply turned and left.

She looked at the check.

Adam Benton.

It listed a New York address.

Her grandmother used to say everything always happens for a reason. Lee couldn’t help wondering just what reason Adam Benton had for renting her cottage.

And even more, she couldn’t help but wonder about her out-of-character reaction to him. There was something about him…something more than just attraction. Almost a familiarity.

She shook her head. That was silly. She’d certainly remember meeting a man like Adam Benton.

And yet the feeling nagged at her. There was something about him.

Well, she’d have the next four weeks to figure it out.

The thought wasn’t very comforting.

Her new tenant had been gone less than ten minutes when the front door of the shop opened again.

“Now, that was a fine lookin’ man if I ever saw one,” Pearly Gates, Perry Square’s version of a town crier, said as she strode into the shop. “He met up with some woman and baby in the park after he left here. The three of them got into an SUV and drove off.”

“That’s nice,” Lee said, not knowing what else Pearly was after, but knowing there would be something.

“So who is he?” Pearly, a spry, grey-haired woman with a touch of the south in her voice, pulled a stool up to the glass case that held Lee’s jewelry and waited for her explanation.

“Why would you think he was anything except a customer?” Lee asked, rather than answering.

“A customer doesn’t spend nigh on twenty minutes pacin’ up and down the block. He paused in front of your door at least half a dozen times and I’d think, there he goes, he’s goin’ in. But he wouldn’t. He’d just walk down the block again. Looked to me like he was workin’ up his nerve.”

“I can’t imagine why. Maybe he was just trying to get a feel for the neighborhood.”

“Ha,” Pearly said, not a bit convinced. “He didn’t look like someone coming from the police station, and he barely slowed his gait when he walked by the Five and Dine. Misty says today’s a cinnamon-roll day. Who can resist slowin’ up to smell that? No, he was working up his nerve for something. And I want to know what it was.”

“How do you know what’s going on over here? I’m across the park from Snips and Snaps for goodness sake. Do you have a telescope over there or something?”

“Good eyes. It’s genetic. My great-grandmother Hazel lived to be ninety-eight and never needed glasses. She claimed she didn’t need hearing aids either, but the woman was deaf as a post. Did I ever tell you about the time she—”

The shop’s door opened again and a couple came in, interrupting Pearly’s story. Which was sort of a relief as Pearly’s stories could easily take an entire afternoon for the telling, what with all the twists, turns and tangents she put in them.

“Welcome to Singer’s Treasures,” Lee called out. “Let me know if I can assist you in any way.”

“Thank you,” the woman said.

“Well, Pearly, I guess that story’s going to have to wait.”

“Fine. You can dodge the story of how Hazel lost her bloomers on Main Street, but only if you tell me about the mystery man.”

Lee should have just admitted defeat the first time Pearly had asked. To the best of her knowledge, no one had ever dodged her for long.

“His name’s Adam Benton. He rented my cottage.” Again, a feeling of familiarity swept over her as she mentioned his name.

She had to be imagining a connection. After all, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t want a connection to a gorgeous man like Adam Benton?

“He’s staying out at your place?” Pearly asked.

Lee could just imagine how Pearly could distort that particular slant on the story, so she quickly tried to set it to right. “Not my place, the other cottage.”

“Well, well, well.” Pearly studied her a moment, then broke out in a huge grin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. Another Perry Square match could be in the making.”

“You said he had a woman and a baby in the park. He’s probably married and bringing the whole family out.”

“Nah. He didn’t touch the lady once. He just nodded at her when he came out of here. I don’t think there’s anything between them.”

“They probably were just fighting, or maybe she had all she could do to handle the baby.”

“Or maybe it was his sister and niece, and he’s single. I like the sound of a nice-looking, single man living with you.”