Tara Quinn - Wife by Design

Which made her wonder when and why he’d done that. What had driven him to the point, as an adult, to sit in his own home and drink himself into a stupor?

Just with the little she knew of him, she could pinpoint a time or two that could prompt such an act.

“When was the second time you saw him angry?”

“When Shelley was fired from her job as a paralegal for filing a written complaint against one of the attorneys in the firm for sexual impropriety.” He stood up. “We should head back. I don’t want him confused if he gets back and I’m not there.”

“He can’t leave the grounds. Not without going through the main hallway, and the staff know to redirect him.”

“I’m not worried about him getting lost,” Grant said. “Darin wears his phone on his belt at all times. I’m the first speed dial, and also a speed dial picture on his front screen. He knows to call it if he needs me.” They were walking at a brisker pace now. “But if I’m not there he could get confused, which makes him feel...less than whole. Which depresses him.”

She wondered who looked out for Grant’s emotional well-being.

Keeping up with him, she said, “It’s a good thing you’re doing, Grant. Not only caring for him, but protecting his confidence in himself, as well.”

“He’s still my big brother. So do you want to check with Lila and the board and see if we can get the go-ahead to remodel the Garden of Renewal?”

They were done talking about Darin. She got the point.

“Based on how you described things, I know they’d love the idea,” Lynn said, attempting to switch gears as rapidly as he did. “But I’m afraid the cost of such a thing is out of our league right now. The initial design work on the grounds was donated several years ago when the concept of The Lemonade Stand was first devised. It takes everything we have budget-wise just to keep it all up.”

“I wasn’t planning on charging you,” Grant said with a sideways look at her that made her insides dance as they walked toward the park. “I work in exchange for Darin’s time here, remember? In case you hadn’t noticed, my brother is practically living here during the day.”

Darin had already progressed to therapy twice a day but had been helping out in the kitchen—of his own volition—during the lunch hour.

“We can’t even afford the supplies....” Which was a shame. The rock fountain, the ambiance he’d described...Lynn could even see herself gravitating toward the area for an occasional respite from the emotional traumas of life.

“Darin and I can build the benches ourselves. And, with your permission, I’d like to hit my suppliers up to donate the plants and the rest of the materials. I bring them more than a million dollars of business a year—I think they’ll carry me on this one. But for the initial rock work, I’ll need to bring in Luke and Craig—my two full-timers. They’re good guys, as your background check will show you. As I said before, Luke’s been with me since college and Craig’s someone he met working at Habitat for Humanity.”

Very familiar with the volunteer organization that built homes for needy families, Lynn’s mind was reeling. She was used to being the one most on top of things, of taking control and making things happen.

Grant was...impressive.

The oasis he was describing would be a godsend to their work. Grant was talking about providing a place of serene beauty, of aesthetic wonder. A place that could help heal the soul. And that was the part of these women that was damaged most of all.

They’d made it back to the area where Darin had left Grant.

“I’ll talk to Lila tonight,” she told him. “But I can pretty much guarantee she’ll be delighted.”

“As soon as you get an official go-ahead, let me know and we’ll get started.”

Just like that.

He was watching her watch him. She moistened her lips with her tongue, and his gaze lowered to them, then rose back up to meet hers.

What were they doing here?

“How long do you think it will take?” Her words were a little too slow. Too soft.

“A week. Tops.”

She said something appropriate. Told him she had to get going. He glanced at her mouth again.

And Lynn fled.

* * *

LATE THE FOLLOWING Monday, after putting in a full day as owner and CEO of Bishop Landscaping, Grant was in the Garden of Renewal with design software opened on his tablet, measuring off distances and envisioning finished results. With the help of the software, which would take his inputted measurements and choices and display outcomes, his idea would materialize into a working plan.

“Darin said I’d find you here.” The voice startled him. Turning, Grant almost dropped his tablet.

“Wow!” He’d said the word out loud before realizing he was doing so. In a pair of tight black jeans, high-heeled black leather sandals and a button-down, tapered white blouse, Lynn looked...nothing like a nurse. Her hair, loose and curling around her shoulders, was longer than he’d suspected. She was wearing makeup.

And not meeting his eyes as she handed him a manila folder. “This is the signed letter with our nonprofit tax ID that should be all your vendors need for their donations,” she said, her tone unusually subdued.

She seemed to be looking right through him. Or over him.

Taking the folder, Grant wanted to touch her hand. Her face. To bring her back to him. She was at the Stand for a reason. Had left her job at the hospital to live here.

Because she’d been abused? He knew for certain she’d been wearing a wedding ring four years before. He’d checked. He didn’t ever flirt or even think about flirting with another man’s wife.

Her fingers were unadorned now.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sounded so surprised,” he said, making certain that he didn’t touch her at all. “I’ve just never seen you out of uniform.”

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