Page 26 of Halstead House

“She means well,” Chef Lou suddenly said from the stove in his thick fake accent.

I startled when he spoke, having forgotten he was there. When I turned to face him, I was surprised to see him looking at me. Really looking. We’d never made eye contact before this. He meant what he was saying, and it warmed my heart to see evidence of the ties among the staff.

“She’s a good friend.” I nodded as I stood with my plate.

“Yes, but even good friends should not be allowed to chooseallyour clothes.” He turned back to whatever he’d been working on.

“That’s good advice, Chef,” I agreed as I put my plate in the sink and left the kitchen.

I wasn’t totally surprised when at one o’clock sharp I found myself standing alone in the courtyard area outside of the carriage house, no sign of Ana. Knowing I may be waiting for a bit, I made my way over to a small bench situated in the shade underneath a tree at the edge of the courtyard. It looked so appealing, and got my fair skin out of the warming afternoon sun. I sat down, content to enjoy the quiet, and fully prepared to tease Ana about her tardiness.

My solitude was interrupted by the arrival of a motorcycle. The rider came to a fast stop near the large carriage house doors and cut the engine as he placed his booted feet down on the red brick pavers. He was wearing jeans with a black leather jacket and a helmet.

Before taking the time to think about it, I jumped up from where I’d been sitting and marched over to where the man was now swinging a leg over his bike. While I wasn’t blind or immune to how... well, masculine... he looked in his gear, I couldn’t believe the audacity of his behavior. This was private property and definitely not a parking area. The tires from the bike could scuff the beautiful old red brick that the courtyard had been painstakingly paved with decades earlier. Events were hosted there, and I knew the Halsteads wouldn’t stand for it. While I was reticent in my real life, I’d had to chasten my fair share of people for being disrespectful of historical artifacts. I put on my historian hat and didn’t hesitate.

“Sir,” I called. He didn’t hear me. “Sir!” I called louder. “You can’t park there.”

He rose from his bike as I was about to reach his side, but the moment his helmet came off I stumbled to a halt. Then again, maybe I’d been mistaken about him parking there. It was Lucas, and his Garage Guy persona had returned in full force. I desperately hoped he hadn’t heard me and did my best to back pedal my way into looking like I was headed into the ticket office.

No luck. His light green eyes speared me from beneath his dark eyebrows with the same shuttered look they always wore. He didn’t smile, his posture inflexible beneath the black leather jacket as he hung his helmet from the handlebars.

“You always go around telling people what they can’t do?” he asked as he shrugged out of his jacket and folded it over the seat.

I had been taking small steps backward in hopes of giving him space, but his words halted me. “I didn’t realize it was you.”

He broke eye contact as he pulled keys out of the bike’s ignition and hit a button on the key chain that caused the huge doors of the carriage house to open. They didn’t bend and roll up into the ceiling like my garage doors at home did. Instead they went straight out into the air, coming to rest at a ninety-degree angle to the building and leaving a great shadow underneath them.

Still he remained quiet. My mind raced, wanting to fill the awkward silence. “I am aware that my duties don’t involve being a guard dog,” I stuttered. He tossed me a quick look over his shoulder. “It’s just that I didn’t think the family would want tire tracks on this beautiful brick courtyard.”

He nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.” Then he turned and rolled his bike into the carriage house and disappeared from view.

Of all the rude... I couldn’t even begin to understand how he, Mary, and Eliza shared blood. What had I ever done to him?

“Hey, Grace,” Ana called just then from behind.

I jumped and spun to face her. “Let’s go.” I walked quickly across the bricks toward a parking area on the other side of the gift shop building where Ana’s car had its own stall.

“Hold up, lady. My legs aren’t keeping up with yours. Why the hurry?” Ana called. “Why is that carriage house door open? I’ll bet Carl left it open when he was sweeping before the ticket office opened. How irritating. I’d better let Marshall know before we leave.” Ana stopped walking and pulled out her phone.

Ugh. Just, for once... “It’s not a big deal. Lu-, uh, Mr. Halstead was just out here on his motorcycle and he opened the doors.” I anxiously retreated to where Ana was standing and grabbed her arm. “So, let’s get moving.” Please, please, please.

“Okay. Okay. Easy.” Ana tugged her arm away and put her phone back in her pocket, but she still didn’t move. She put her hands on her hips and gave me a once-over. “What’s going on with you?”

If there was ever a time to forget my etiquette training, slap a palm to my face, and wail at the sky, this was that moment. I didn’t have an answer that I was willing to give her, because my emotions made no sense. I just wanted to get away before I had yet another agonizingly awkward and slightly disappointing encounter with Lucas.

I’d never felt the conflicting emotions of attraction and anger like this, and I was scared. He was not the person I thought he would be. I had expected him to be welcoming and warm like Eliza, not aloof and wary. None of the smiling internet pictures had told me to expect his cool attitude. Nor had those pictures prepared me for the things he was making me feel. It was messy and confusing and sort of hurt my feelings somehow. Explaining all of that to Ana seemed like a terrible idea. The only good idea here was a tactical retreat—even if it would require brute force.

The whirring sound of the carriage doors closing kept me from manhandling her out of the courtyard. I groaned as her attention—okay, and mine—shifted to him, who was now carrying his jacket in his hand and striding toward us. He brought with him those annoying tingles in the soles of my feet. It was simply the worst.

“Afternoon.” Ana smiled at him. “Did you have a good ride?”

“I did,” he replied.

At that exact moment Eliza came out of the ticket office. Her normally serene expression looked troubled as she took in Lucas’s attire.

“I thought I heard that motorcycle out here. Did you ride it on my bricks again?” she asked. Lucas gave her a succinct nod in return. “I swear, dear, I’m going to be forced to send you to military school if you don’t stop. These bricks are irreplaceable and part of our history.”

“I’m a little old to be shipped off to military school,” Lucas replied with a hint of a smile, his face softening in a way that made my stomach swoop as he looked at his aunt.

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