Chapter 12 Ghosts
CHAPTER TWELVE
GHOSTS
Devon
Carl did not disappoint.
I don’t know if he did it for Harlow or the photo op, but our table was overflowing with enough fried food to give five men heart disease. I might be one of them after the experience.
If Harlow was mortified by the sheer volume of food presented to her, no one could tell. Carl and Winnie were beside themselves at how happy she was.
She smiled for the picture I took. Carl and Winnie flanked where they stood next to her breakfast buffet.
I have no doubt it’ll be blown up and will sit alongside the fake Elvis and famous volleyball for my next visit to The Combover.
It’s not like there are a shit ton of places to frequent in town.
Carl and Winnie’s isn’t the only game in Winslet, but it is one of few.
The manor brings in a steady stream of new customers, and the locals have not been shy about their appreciation for the additional business.
The heiress to billions proved her dislike of food waste isn’t just for show. Even though there was no way Carl would expect her to eat everything he made, she was quietly mortified when he wasn’t looking.
After I ate my egg white omelet, I did what I could to help her put a dent in the fried buffet with a towering stack of hotcakes on the side.
I’m officially at risk for high cholesterol.
Harlow was about to bag up her leftovers until I put my foot down.
The last thing I want is for my suite to smell like The Combover.
Instead of telling her that, I pointed out that she’d ruin her new-car smell that she paid a mint for.
It’s bad enough we smell like bacon, but the Jag reeking of stale grease would be a crime.
She used the food as a reason to officially cut me off from the information I crave.
I didn’t get bland pleasantries from her, let alone any new information.
If it wouldn’t put my sister on high alert about my interest in this woman, I’d put her to task and have her dig up everything she could on Harlow Madison.
Bella and Mum are up in my business enough as it is.
If they find out that my interest in the woman whose car I’m driving is anything other than innocent, they’d be on their way to my place to drive me mad once and for all.
I’m already trying to figure out how to manage their upcoming visit if my new roommate will still be around.
I’m about to start my way up the mountain when the woman who is pushing my mind to places it hasn’t been in years reaches over to grab my forearm. “Do you have time for a quick stop?”
Twist my arm.
There’s no one behind us, so I slow the Jag to a crawl. “Where to?”
She points the opposite way of the manor. “Take a left. It won’t take long, I promise.”
As if I give a shit how long it will take. She’s speaking to me again. I’ll do anything to keep that going and follow her directions. “Where do you want to go?”
She scans the wooded landscape like she’s searching for something to jump out of the woods at us. “Another mile or so ... I think. It’s been years. Then take a right.”
The road turns to gravel. The last thing she seems worried about is her new car getting a paint chip.
Our path narrows and the single lane becomes bumpier as we go.
Grass and weeds grow up through the rough path, proving I’m not the only one who had no idea this road was here.
“You purchased the wrong auto for off-roading.”
“You have a point.” Harlow leans forward, like she’ll see anything other than the thick forest. “We’re almost there.”
I slow to a stop and look down the lane where she wants me to turn. “You’ll scratch your new Jag to hell. What’s down there?”
“Never mind,” she mutters and reaches for the handle. “I’ll walk.”
“Wait,” I call, but she’s already out the door.
I kill the engine, climb out, and look around.
There’s no one in sight. I have no idea where she’s going, but I’m not about to let her wander into the woods on her own.
I round the hood of the car to catch up to her.
“I’m usually up for a hike, but a little warning next time so I can come prepared. ”
She’s on a mission and doesn’t slow. “You can wait in the car. I’ll be right back.”
“Where the hell are you going?” I demand and catch up as she hurdles a fallen tree.
“I don’t need you to follow me, Devon,” she insists.
“If you’re not going to tell me where you’re going, I’ll be forced to stalk you.”
“That’s...” She pauses before finally throwing me a glance. “Slightly creepy.”
“Yeah? You’re the one throwing up red flags left and right since you walked into my manor. And I’m only being slightly sarcastic.”
“Like you’re one to talk. You still haven’t told me how you tracked down my father when no one else can find him.”
A smile tugs at my lips as we hike downhill and around a bend. “Consider us even.”
When she comes to an abrupt halt, I stop by her side. I don’t know if she’s talking to me or herself when she mutters, “I can’t believe how run down it is.”
Fuck. She’s not wrong. Through the thick brush and trees stands an old Victorian.
It’s not small. In fact, the house makes the woods feel less eerie, which says a lot given the state of the house.
The paint is chipping, and the front door stands ajar.
But the most blaring thing about the place is the police tape blowing in the light, midday breeze with an askew no trespassing sign dangling by one nail. “You know this place?”
“Like the back of my hand. I feel like I grew up here even though it was just a week or two every summer.”
I look away from the shitshow of a structure and turn to her. “Your grandmother lived here?”
She stares at the broken-down house as pain bleeds through her features.
“A long time ago. It didn’t look like this when it was hers.
She sold it right after my mom died. She said it was painful to be here knowing her daughter would never return to visit.
I was young. You’d think my father would’ve had the forethought to buy it so I could have it when I was older, but he never considers sentimental things like that.
Grandma struggled to take care of the house and land by herself.
She moved to town and lived there for the rest of her life. I haven’t seen this place in years.”
I glance back at the structure that’s seen better decades and can’t imagine Harlow Madison anywhere near this place, let alone growing up here. “It’s been through some shit.”
“It’s worse than they described and the pictures. I bet they were afraid to scare me off.”
“Scare you off from what?”
She lets out a tentative exhale. “From buying it.”
“Wait. You own this place?” I ask.
“Not yet. The previous owners went into foreclosure. I made an offer to the bank. It was a very generous offer now that I’m here to see it in person, but I had to make sure it was mine.
” She glances back at the house. “You weren’t kidding when you said it’s been through some stuff.
The back taxes were so high, no one local wanted to take it on.
It’s a mess, but I’m grateful it’s mine.
“You bought this place before the wedding?”
She stares at the house so intently, it’s like she’s never seen it before as she finally shrugs. “Yes. When I did a search on the property, I hoped to throw some money at the current owners and buy it. I had no idea it was in foreclosure let alone this state. This isn’t good.”
I turn from her to the crime scene that’s fallen into disrepair. “What are you going to do with it?”
Her voice is thick with emotion. I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince me or herself that this is a good idea. “I’m going to live in it.”
My cell vibrates, but I focus on Harlow and send it straight to voicemail. I also forget all about the structure that looks like it may be haunted. “Here? In Winslet?”
She nods at the creepy-ass house before she turns to me. “I need a place to live. I could stay at my dad’s penthouse in New York or get another place to call my own. But I don’t want to be anywhere near Janie and need a change. I decided this is it.”
I let out a low whistle. “Harlow Madison, you are layered. From the first time I saw you, I never would’ve thought you’d want to live in a sleepy little town like this let alone settle in a dump like that.”
She frowns. “Don’t give me too much credit. I knew it was going to need some work, but this is worse than the pictures. Worse than I ever imagined.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to rough it in your grandmother’s house of horror?”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she peeks at me through her dark lashes. “It means I’m going to need a place to stay longer than I thought.”
My cell rings again, but there’s nothing else I want to think about. I cross my arms and focus on the woman who is more intriguing by the moment. “Are you trying to sweet-talk me?”
“I didn’t think it would be this bad. I thought I could tough it out during renovations.
You know, live through construction. Whoever sent me the pictures was a crafty photographer and edited out the police tape.
” She sighs. “I found a local general contractor who said he could start as soon as I closed. How long is the manor booked out? I’m going to need a room.
I’ve caused enough trouble for you since my doomsday of a wedding. ”
“At least there wasn’t a marriage,” I remind her. “Don’t worry about a room. We’ll make it work.”
I put thoughts of dealing with my family out of my head. That’s a problem for another day. But I’m not irritated by the fact Harlow has no other place to stay. We might have availability here and there, but not for months on end.
Her choices are shit-out-of-luck or me.
I’m not sure which is worse.
There’s also no way I’m giving her another option other than yours truly.