He leafed through the pictures of his family gathered around the Christmas tree at the Jerichos’ barn, and the picture of him and Beckett sitting with beers in their hands on their parents’ couch. There was a picture of Gavin and his parents arm in arm and one of him and his mother sitting together with sparkling holiday lights behind them. His throat thickened with emotion.
“Sweetheart…” He lifted his gaze, spotting another envelope beside her keys on the counter. “Are those more pictures?”
“Those are pictures I want to put up at my place.”
“Can I see?”
She nodded, and he grabbed the envelope and leafed through the pictures they’d taken together over the past several weeks. She’d even printed the picture he’d texted to her after their first date, the one in which she was holding the fishing rod with the fish she’d caught. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want to put these up here?”
“I didn’t want to seem too presumptuous.”
“My sweet, careful girl, you tracked down my brother, spoke to my mother, and to Nana, who I’m not even related to. You beautified my front yard, and you’re worried that giving me pictures of us would be too presumptuous?”
She lifted one shoulder in an adorable shrug.
“I think your instincts are off after all, babe.” He gathered her in his arms and said, “I want pictures of us here. I want you to presume, Harper. Presume everything your little heart desires, and while you’re presuming, while you’re thinking over the offer you have from LA, know that I’m the one thing you can take for granted, okay?”
She looked all choked up as her arms circled his neck. “I’ll never take you for granted.”
“Not me, just my love for you. Promise me?” he asked.
She nodded.
“That’s my girl.”
As their mouths came together, he vowed to make sure she kept that promise.
“Can we hurry up the whatnot?” Justin’s voice broke through their reverie. “You haven’t even changed your clothes yet? Dude, you need some lessons in hosting.”
Harper blushed, and Gavin whispered, “I like the whatnot.”
Justin grabbed the hamburger meat from the fridge and said, “You know what? You’ve waited a long time for each other. Go back to your tonsil inspections. I’ll cook dinner.” He snagged another cookie and headed out the patio door.
Gavin gazed into Harper’s eyes and said, “You heard the man,” and lowered his lips to hers.
Chapter Seventeen
HARPER’S EDITOR WAS ready to run the article about Harvey. She’d called Jock and scheduled an appointment to bring it by for Harvey to review today, Tuesday, before they sent it for publication. There were no performances this afternoon, and the lack of cars and noise, and the missing buffet tent and chairs, gave the property a little colder, and lonelier, aura. It was no wonder Harvey surrounded himself with as much life as he could.
Harper climbed the front steps and knocked on the heavy wooden door. She’d poured her heart and soul into this article and was excited to see Harvey’s reaction.
A pretty blonde with either very sad or tired blue eyes answered the door wearing a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. Harper wondered if she was Jock’s girlfriend.
“Hi. I’m Harper Garner with the Cape Cod Times. I have an appointment with Mr. Fine to go over an article I’ve written about him.”
The woman looked over her shoulder, then stepped outside, closing the door behind her. “Hi. I’m Tegan, Harvey’s great-niece.”
“Oh! Harvey told me about you. It’s nice to meet you.”
Tegan swallowed hard, tears dampening her eyes. “My great-uncle passed away yesterday. We haven’t told anyone yet. We’re still making arrangements, and….” She swiped at her tears.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” Tears fell from Harper’s eyes. She tried to will them away, but there was no stopping the sadness from coming out.
“We all are.” She waved at the porch step. “Have a seat, please.”
“I should probably go so you can be with your family,” Harper said, wiping her tears.
“No, please, sit on the steps with me. I’d like to talk, if you don’t mind. Uncle Harvey mentioned you before he passed.” A shaky smile appeared as she wiped her eyes. “Actually, he said, ‘When Harper brings that story, you read it. I want it told.’ What’s the story about, exactly?”
“Harvey and Adele and their life together. He also told me about you and, of course, his friendship with Jock.” She couldn’t stop her tears from falling. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to…I knew he didn’t have long to live, but your uncle, Harvey, he…I really enjoyed meeting him.”
“Thank you. May I read the article?”
“Oh, of course.” Harper handed her the envelope, and she stood to leave.
Tegan touched her hand. “Would you mind staying for a few minutes while I read it? It’s just me and Jock here, and he’s so upset right now. It’s nice to see another friendly face.”
“Sure.” Harper sat and pulled herself together as Tegan read the article.
Tears streamed down Tegan’s cheeks as she read. She covered her mouth when she laughed softly, and afterward, she pressed the papers to her chest and said, “You really did get to him. He would have loved what you’ve written.”
Harper breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad. I wanted readers to come away with a sense of how special Harvey was.”
“You’ve achieved that. My uncle was a very private man. Jock said my uncle told him that you reminded him of me.”
“Blond hair and blue eyes,” Harper said.
Tegan shook her head. “Uncle Harvey never saw what people looked like. Except with Jock. He loved to tease him. But if Uncle Harvey said you reminded him of me, then he thought you were creative, strong-willed, and someone who could not only do his story justice, but give his love for my aunt a voice. This story will probably create relationship goals for millions of people. Just like my great uncle’s stories about them did for me.” She put the papers on her lap and gazed down at them.
“What will happen to the property? To Jock?”
“Jock isn’t a caregiver by trade, but his loyalty to my uncle was unwavering. Uncle Harvey went through five caregivers before Jock stepped in to help out temporarily. Jock has endured more than his share of loss, but that’s not my story to tell. He and my uncle needed each other. They got along so well, Jock stayed on. He’s wrecked, of course, but after he grieves, he’ll probably go back to writing.”
“I didn’t know he was a writer.”
“I’m not sure he still is,” Tegan said. “And as far as this place goes, I know my uncle talked about me taking over, and if he really did leave it to me in his will, then the last thing I want to do is sell it. But I don’t know how to run a place like this. I make children’s costumes for a princess boutique, and I’m a nip-and-tuck girl for a clothing store. I also work for my sister’s photography business, editing her pictures. In those areas, I’m a pro. But this?” She shrugged.