A Love Like This

To Hadley’s appreciative eyes, he almost seemed to be moving in slow motion. Her lips parted, allowing a pent-up breath to escape into the cool winter air. She tightened her arms around the gift basket, knowing that if she didn’t, it might fall to the ground, forgotten, as she stared at her favorite client. How can he be that damn fine?

He opened the hatch at the back of the vehicle. Dragging out a wheeled suitcase, he shut the hatch again and turned her way. “Hadley, is that you?”

She shifted the basket, offering a wave before shifting it back into both hands. “It’s me,” she called. “How are you?” As she spoke, she started walking in his direction.

“I’m good, thanks. How about you?” He remained by the back of the SUV, as if waiting for her.

A few more long steps brought her into his personal space. “Good, good. Can’t complain.”

He smiled, showing off two rows of shimmering white teeth. “Glad to hear it.”

That familiar tingle started at the back of her neck, and she did her best to ignore it. Extending the basket in his direction, she spoke. “This is for you, from all of us at Monroe Holdings. We want to thank you for your loyalty in renting from us for five consecutive years.”

“Thank you, Hadley. That’s very nice.” He extended an arm, taking the basket she’d needed two hands to carry and sweeping it into his grasp as if it weighed nothing. Regarding the selection of fruit, nuts and candy, he looked her way. “Looks like there’s some pretty good stuff in here.”

She offered a soft smile. “I... I mean, we hope you’ll enjoy it.” She reached into the hip pocket of her jeans and fished out the key to the unit. “I’ll go ahead and let you in so you can put your things down.” She started walking toward the front door.

He started to follow, but when he turned, he winced.

The basket slipped from his arms.

Hadley took a wide step and reached out, catching hold of the free end of the shrink-wrap just before the basket could hit the ground. The bottom of it scraped the driveway, but as she raised it to inspect, she found all the contents intact.

He reached up, slipping off his shades and tucking them into the neckline of his sweater.

The moment his intense hazel eyes met hers, Hadley felt a tingle shoot down her spine until it touched the base, then flare out to the rest of her body.

“Wow, Hadley. You’ve got amazing reflexes.” He looked genuinely impressed.

She shrugged, straightening up with the basket in her arms. “I take a kickboxing class.” She looked back at him, letting her concern show through. “Are you okay?”

He waved her off. “I’m fine. Just a little twinge in my back that pops up now and again.”

She nodded. Even though she suspected there was more to it than he let on, she knew it wasn’t her place to press him.

Firmly grasping the handle of his bag, he rolled it to the front door.

As he passed by, she caught a glimpse of his firm backside. It was all she could do to hold onto the basket as she trailed behind him. They walked up the two stone steps to the door. Shifting a bit, she used the key to unlock the place and followed him inside.

He rolled his bag into the nook by the window seat, then glanced around the room. “The decorations are really nice this year. Subtle, but still festive.”

She grinned, probably a little wider than she had intended. “That’s the look we were going for. I’m glad you like them.” She crossed the room to the low mahogany coffee table, setting the gift basket down before any more mishaps could occur.

As she bent, she had the distinct sense that he was looking at her backside. Acting with intention, she drew out the motion, staying in the position a few seconds longer than necessary as she pretended to fuss with the bow on the basket. When she stood and slowly turned Devon’s way, he was sitting on the cushioned window seat.

His hazel eyes were focused squarely on her.

* * *

When Devon saw Hadley turn around and look at him, he didn’t bother to shift his gaze. He’d misjudged a few things in his day, but there was no mistaking Hadley’s flirting. The exaggerated way she’d bent over the table just now had obviously been done for his benefit, and benefit he did. The sight of her round, upturned ass had warmed his blood so much he was tempted to strip off his sweater.

As she caught his eye, her full lips curved into a smile. “Devon. Were you doing what I think you were doing just now?” The teasing in her tone indicated how certain she felt of the answer.

He chuckled. “Only if you were doing what I think you were.”

She winked but admitted nothing.

The grin stretching his lips held a mixture of amusement and intrigue. Since when had Hadley been checking for him? He’d always thought of her as attractive. But he’d tried not to dwell on that, since there were two glaring factors that might make her an unsuitable match. She was only twenty-eight, six years younger than him. Not to mention she was the baby sister of his old friend Campbell. He and Campbell had hung out a lot in high school, and Devon had no idea how Campbell would react to his old cutup buddy going after his sister.

She let her gaze drop in a coy manner.

He kept his expression even, hoping not to sway her one way or the other. He was supposed to be resting over the holidays, not entertaining a tender young thing like Hadley Monroe. Still, the man in him couldn’t help but be flattered by her theatrics.

Her expression changed then, indicating a return to her usual all-business demeanor. She sat on the sofa, shifting to face his way. “So, tell me all the interesting things happening on the left coast.”

He chuckled. “I was about to ask you for an update on what’s been going on here over the past year.”

“Not much.” She shrugged. “We’ve cleared our last thirty acres of land and are trying to decide what to develop there. A new grocery store opened, along with a few boutiques to appeal to the tourist crowd.”

“What about Coastal High? Did they ever finish the new stadium?” When he’d visited last year, ground had been broken for the project, adjacent to the old field.

“Yes. They finished it right after school let out for the summer. By the time the kids got back for the new school year, the football team had already practiced on the new turf.”

He nodded, pleased that his alma mater was making improvements. “You know, I haven’t been back to Coastal since I graduated.” He watched her as she spoke, taking note of her body language. “It’s been so long, I don’t think I remember how to get there.” He had a vague idea of the way to the school and could probably find it on his own. But he wanted to see how she’d respond.

She leaned forward, her face brightening. “If you want to see the new stadium, I’ll take you over there.”

“Sounds great. Maybe we’ll swing by there in a few days.” He wondered if he was encouraging her too much, but he did consider her a friend. He saw no reason he couldn’t treat her as such. If she were someone else, someone closer to his age and not related to one of his oldest friends, they’d be having a much different conversation right now.

“Really, though. Tell me what’s happening in Hollywood. Filming anything? Premieres coming up?” The glint in her eyes gave away her excitement.

He chuckled at her effortless transition from friend to fan. “I wrapped Destruction Derby 3 about a month ago. Haven’t filmed anything since, and no premieres until after the New Year.”

She clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait for DD3 to come out. I loved the first two.”

His brow hitched. “Really? I never pegged you for the type who’d like the DD series. Explosions, fast cars, fistfights.” The films in the series were wildly popular with the young male audience, at least according to the suits at the studio. They were huge moneymakers and kept Devon financially secure, but filming them had been especially hard on his body.

She made a face of mock offense. “That’s sexist. Just because I’m a woman, you think I can’t get into a good action thriller?”

“You gotta admit, you’re not exactly the target audience.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. “Come on, Devon. You know me better than that.”

He laughed. “I’m just teasing you. Thanks for the compliment, though.”

She leaned in, dropped her voice as if there were someone else in the room. “Listen, just between me and you, is Captain Vicious coming back for the third movie?”

He laughed again at her question. “You’re like the fiftieth person to ask me that.” The character, a villain in the DD series, was played by veteran actor Rick Rollingsworth. Rick, a contemporary of Samuel L. and Denzel, was about as well loved as a man of color in Hollywood could expect to be. “At least ten people asked me that between the baggage claim and the rental car counter.”

“We’re friends, though. So, are you gonna tell me?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. The nondisclosure agreement in my contract is in full effect.” He knew Captain Vicious would indeed be making a return but couldn’t risk his standing with the studio by telling her that. “You’ll have to find out with everybody else when the movie drops in May.”

She sighed. “Oh, well. I’ve waited this long, I suppose I can wait till Memorial Day.” She stood and he took time to appreciate his view of her. The sweater, jeans and tall boots encased her shapely figure in a way he found very attractive, but not overly revealing. The dark ringlets of her hair were pinned on top of her head, revealing the lines of her face. Her high cheekbones, full lips and sparkling brown eyes were all marks of her beauty, and of the Monroe blood flowing through her veins. Today, Hadley looked much as her mother, Viola, had looked twenty years ago, when they were kids.

A few long, silent moments passed between them before she seemed to notice his scrutiny. Her cheeks filled with a rosy blush, the glittering eyes shifting to the window behind him. Straightening, she began to run through the speech she usually gave him when he checked in to the unit. “The groceries you requested for the first week are already in the kitchen. You have plenty of fresh linen in the closet upstairs, and the housekeeping service will stop by every other day to do laundry and dishes for you...”

He smiled, putting up his hand to stop her rambling. “Thanks, Hadley. I got it.”

She shifted her gaze away from his face, running her hand over the red ribbon securing the gift basket. “Is there anything else you’ll need?”

He fought the urge to give her one of the many cheeky answers that came to mind. Shaking his head, he said, “No, but if I think of something I’ll give the office a call.”

She crossed the room toward the front door, passing him as she moved. “Well, I’ll stop pestering you and let you get on with your vacation. Just give the office a call if you need anything, or when you’re ready to go see the new stadium.”

He nodded. “I will. Thanks for everything, Hadley.” His words were sincere. She’d seen to his every need for the past four years he’d been coming there, either personally or through the staff. She made it easy for him to leave his work behind for three glorious weeks, and he truly did appreciate everything she did.

“You’re welcome.” She smiled on the heels of her soft reply, then opened the door and let herself out.

He turned and looked out the window, watching her stroll back to her car.

Something told him this Christmas would be an interesting one.

Chapter 3

Seated behind her desk, Hadley popped a soft peppermint in her mouth and chewed. The desktop was full of paperwork, detailing the long list of repairs waiting to be made at several of Monroe’s properties. She sighed as she swallowed the small pieces of candy. She was the office manager, and that entailed a lot of things. What it didn’t entail was property management—that was Campbell’s job.

Scooting her chair back, she stood and walked around her desk. Leaving her office, she walked down the corridor to Savion’s office. The door was open, and a quick peek let her see her brother poring over something on his desk. She tapped on the glass panel next to the door to get his attention.

Glancing up, he waved her in. “What’s up, Hadley?”

She entered the office and took a seat in one of his guest chairs. The office, which had been occupied by their father, Carver, before his retirement, still looked much the same as it had ten years ago. Savion had held on to most of their father’s books and decor, as well as the navy blue carpet and soft-textured blue wallpaper.

Aware of her eldest brother’s obsession with detail, she waited silently for a few moments while he finished reading whatever currently had his attention.

He looked up again, closing his magazine and making eye contact with her. “What do you need, sis?”

Seeing that his body language invited conversation, she sat back in her chair. “I’ve got a pile of repair request forms on my desk. Again.”

“That’s Campbell’s responsibility, not yours.”

She pursed her lips. “I know that, Savion. What I want to know is who keeps dropping the forms on my desk instead of handing them over to Cam.”

Savion’s exaggerated shrug said all. “Must be somebody on staff. Maybe Belinda? Even though she doesn’t work for us, she’s in and out of here all the time.”

She shook her head. “Belinda knows better.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s one of her people. Either way, it’s Campbell’s job to handle that stuff, so just pass the stack to him.” He reached up, stifling a yawn with his hand.

She rolled her eyes. Whoever was leaving her brother’s work on her desk would catch pure hell from her if she ever caught them. Pushing that aside for now, she spoke again. “Listen. While I’m in here, what’s going on with the shoot for the new TV commercial?”

He opened the cover of the black leather-bound planner he kept with him at all times, dropping it on his desk. His eyes were on the pages as he answered her question. “We’re supposed to shoot next Wednesday and into Thursday, if necessary. We hope to get it on the air right after the New Year.”

“Does it have a script? Are we doing voice-over? Who’s going to be in it?”

He looked up, his brow knitting as if he were confused. “Yes, yes and I’m going to be in it. Why are you asking all these questions about the commercial, anyway?”

She shifted in her seat, pushing away her discomfort with his scrutiny. “I have some ideas for the commercial. You know, to punch it up a bit.”

Now he looked annoyed. “What’s wrong with the commercials we’ve been making, Hadley?”

She cleared her throat. “Nothing, per se. I just think it’s time to try a new direction.”

“I don’t know why you’d say that. Monroe Holdings isn’t lacking for business, despite competition from Rent-A-Retreat and Homeshare Plus, so the commercials must be working.”

“Sure they are. I’m not saying they aren’t effective.” She did her best to temper her response, knowing how much her brother enjoyed being the face of MHI, and how much he hated being contradicted. She was sure the commercials worked, to a degree, and especially with the female audience. Savion, just like Campbell and their father, was a handsome man, and possessed enough charisma to sell sand at the beach. Still, she thought a change of pace would be nice. “I just think it would be good to film an updated concept, something new to add to the rotation of ads.”

He wore his skepticism like a mask. “Hadley, why rock the boat? People know me as the spokesman for MHI. It’s comforting, familiar. And isn’t that what we’re all about? Providing clients with comfort?”

She sighed. This conversation isn’t going anywhere. Once again, her brother had dismissed her idea before she’d even had a chance to properly express it. “Never mind, Savion.” She rose from the seat, vowing not to waste any more of her time on the matter—at least not today. “I’m going to go deliver the forms to their rightful owner.”

Savion nodded, then returned his attention to his planner.

On the heels of his nonverbal dismissal, Hadley left the office, seeking out her other brother. Before she could make it to the end of the hall, Campbell dashed out of his office and jogged past her.

Spinning around, she called after him. “Cam. You have to get this stack of repair requests—”

“Not now, Hadley. I’ve got a meeting.” He kept walking, his long strides taking him out of the corridor and into the main lobby.

She followed him, half tempted to shake her fist. “A meeting or a date?”

He glanced back at her long enough to shoot her a crooked grin. “Don’t hate, sis.”

She rolled her eyes. “Cam. It’s the middle of the day. You have to do some actual work around here.”

“I’ll get to it later,” he called back as he slipped out through the glass doors, letting them swing shut behind him.

Standing in the lobby alone, Hadley propped her fists on her hips, feeling her face crunch into a frown. Her work at MHI had begun to seem like a combination of babysitting and playing secretary, neither of which she’d signed up to do. Her brothers had always been expected to remain in Sapphire Shores and continue the Monroe legacy of controlling most of the rental property on the island. As the baby of the family, and the only girl, she hadn’t had those expectations placed on her. Still, she loved her hometown, and loved her family more. When she’d turned down an executive position out of state to work for the family business as office manager, she hadn’t considered it a sacrifice. But as time went by, and she put in more and more work only to be dismissed and undervalued by her brothers, she wondered if she’d made the right choice.

With a shake of her head, she returned to her office. The small digital clock on the desk told her it was almost noon, and as she plopped down in her chair, she contemplated what she’d do for lunch. Leaving the office sounded fabulous, so she decided she’d walk a few blocks down to the nearby shopping center to grab something. The walk would likely do her good by helping to clear her mind and giving her time to let her irritation with her brothers dissipate.

She eyed the stack of repair requests still sitting on her desk. Eight of their rental units needed some repair or other, and four of those were currently occupied. As was standard, those units with people staying in them would take priority over vacant ones. She thought about Campbell, and with no idea of where he’d gone or when he’d be back, she picked up the phone to call the plumbers and technicians needed for the occupied units.

Erring on the side of caution helped her cope with situations like this, and as she waited for the plumber to answer her call, she vowed to give Campbell a smack upside his head the next time she saw him.

* * *

Devon thumbed through the pages of Reader’s Digest as he sat in the waiting room of Stinger Urgent Care. He’d only been in town for forty-eight hours, and already the pain from his herniated disk had become worrisome enough to bring him here. This was the last place he’d wanted to spend the first Friday of his winter vacation, but there hadn’t been any way to avoid it.

Trying to take his focus off the pain in his back, he half read an article in the magazine. While he read, he shifted his hips in the seat, a vain attempt at getting comfortable. But with the searing pain radiating through his low back, achieving comfort was an impossibility.

“Mr. Granger?” A scrubs-clad nurse appeared in the doorway to his left, her gaze cast down at the clipboard in her hand. “Devon Granger?”

He put the magazine down and stood, approaching the nurse.

As he walked up, she looked up from her clipboard. Her eyes immediately grew five sizes larger. “Oh. My. God. You’re that Devon Granger?”

Despite his discomfort, he managed a smile. He had a lot of genuine gratitude for his fans—their support had given him a very good life. “Yes. And you are?”

Blushing, she looked away, seeming to struggle to remember her name. “I’m...uh...Marla. It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Granger. I loved you in Reach for the Sky... It’s my favorite movie of all time.”

“Thank you, Marla. And please, call me Devon.”

A giggle he’d expect to hear from a teenager erupted from her lips, and she stifled it. “Oh my goodness. Let me stop holding you up. Follow me to your exam room.” She started walking down the narrow corridor leading to the rear of the clinic.

He followed her, still a bit amused by the encounter. A few seconds later, she escorted him into a room complete with the typical doctor’s office setup: a counter with a sink, a short wheeled stool, a chrome and plastic chair, and a paper-covered bed.

As he took a seat in the chair, she spent a few moments taking his vital signs. That done, she headed for the door.

“Dr. Stinger will be in to see you soon.” Still smiling, she departed, closing the door behind her.

The hard seat and backrest of the chair made him nostalgic for the one in the waiting area; at least it had been padded. The stiff material wasn’t helping his pain any, so he got up and moved to the bed, which was set in the upright position.

He was scooting his hips onto the paper-covered surface when the door swung open.

Dr. Steven Stinger, dressed in dark slacks and a white medical coat embroidered with his name, entered the room and closed the door behind him. A Black man in his late forties, Dr. Stinger wore a pair of black-framed glasses perched on the end of his nose, as well as the traditional stethoscope draped over his neck. “Mr. Granger. What brings you here today?” He took a seat on the wheeled stool and looked Devon’s way.

Settling back against the bed, he released a breath. “My back. I have a herniated disk, and I can’t deal with the pain anymore.”

Dr. Stinger slid the clipboard holding what Devon assumed to be his medical chart from beneath his arm and jotted something on it. “Which disk?”

He swiveled to his left, gesturing to his tailbone region. “It’s in the sacrum area.”

“Oh. That’s a particularly uncomfortable spot.” He scribbled some more. “How long have you had the injury, and how have you been dealing with the pain so far?”

“It’s been about a month. I injured myself doing a stunt on my last film...”

Dr. Stinger’s expression changed, becoming less serious. “Destruction Derby 3, right?”

“Yes.” He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that the doctor would ask, given the immense popularity of the series. Still, he wanted to steer the conversation back to the pain that had brought him to the clinic. “Anyway, I’ve been treating it with hot and cold therapy and some turmeric capsules my trainer gave me.”

Still making notes, Dr. Stinger nodded. “Is there a reason you didn’t get a prescription from the doctor who diagnosed you? In most cases like this, a prescription is offered.”

Straightening, Devon scratched his chin. “My doctor did offer a prescription, but I wanted to try the natural remedies first. I’m not the biggest fan of pharmaceuticals, so I avoid them when I can.”

“I can understand that. A lot of my patients feel the same way.” Dr. Stinger set his pen and chart aside. “Let me examine you to get a better idea of how I can help you going forward. How long will you be in town?”

“Until just after the New Year.”

Dr. Stinger adjusted the bed until it lay flat, and then instructed Devon to lie down on his stomach.

The doctor left the room and returned with a portable X-ray machine and the nurse. Once the examination was complete, and the nurse and equipment were out of the room, Dr. Stinger readjusted the bed so Devon could sit upright again.

“I’m going to recommend a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory for you. Considering your attitude toward medication, I’ll start you at a low dose.” The doctor quickly wrote on his prescription pad. “Also, you’ll need to remain active—walking will help keep the joints lubricated and lessen your discomfort. Where are you staying while you’re here?”