Her Lover's Legacy. Adrianne Byrd

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СКАЧАТЬ he said, still chuckling and shaking his head. “You’ve come to the wrong one. This is a job for Shawnie or Ty or maybe even Mom.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded. “You’re the oldest—the head of the family. This is your job.”

      He went from laughing to scowling in less than two seconds. “I don’t need you to tell me what my job is, Ms. Kingsley.”

      “Oh, really?” Gloria arched her brows and crossed her arms. “You think it was your job to hole up in this apartment for the past three days and watch old videos instead of being at your mother’s and helping the rest of your family through this difficult time?”

      He said nothing, but Gloria saw a vein appear and twitch along his jawline.

      Still, she continued. “The way I see things, the least you could do is help me with Harmon’s office.”

      “The problem with the way you see things, Ms. Kingsley, is that nobody cares—especially me.”

      His words were a verbal slap, but she reeled back as if it was physical. Her chin came up, but when her tears came unbidden, she barely held them in check. “If it makes you feel better to lash out at me, then please by all means, do so. You’re hurting, and I understand it devastates the male ego to show any type of vulnerability—especially around a woman. But when you’re finished attacking me for your personal issues, I still need for you to help pack your father’s belongings.”

      They stood in a stalemate.

      “It shouldn’t take too long,” she added, gentler this time. “Plus, there’s a lot of legal stuff that you would have a better handle on than I would. And it might be one last thing you can do for him.”

      Malcolm drew a deep breath. The protruding vein disappeared, and for one brief moment, Gloria thought she saw his eyes soften. Had she hit the nail on the head?

      “Two hours—tops,” she lied.

      After a long silence, Malcolm nodded and surprised her. “Sorry. What I said was…I’m sorry.”

      “Apology accepted.” Gloria relaxed enough to smile. “Truce?”

      A corner of his mouth twitched. “Truce.” He opened his arms and she automatically stepped into his embrace. Arms like steel bands wrapped and pressed her against an equally hard body. His skin smelled fresh, like soap.

      Gloria closed her eyes and drew strength and comfort from a man she’d often found herself at odds with—and she took it. Greedily.

      She must have lost track of time because she jumped when Malcolm cleared his throat. She had to extract herself from his warm embrace, so they endured yet another awkward moment.

      “So, um, Monday?” she asked.

      “Monday it is,” he confirmed with a studying gaze.

      She cleared her throat and straightened her posture. It was time to make her exit. She’d got what she came for: the first step of many in her master plan.

      Chapter 3

      Malcolm needed to get his head examined.

      His father’s office was the last place he wanted to be, and after that strange visit from Gloria a couple of days ago, he wasn’t too sure if it was a smart idea to be alone with her in any capacity. If he hadn’t gotten her to release him when he did, Gloria Kingsley would have felt something else rising from beneath his robe.

      Actually, he was sort of curious how she would’ve reacted. Heaven knows it was a surprise to him, but the combination of her floral-scented perfume and her soft curves pressed against him awakened something within.

      Something he didn’t want to explore.

      Now staring up at the brick-and-glass building of his father’s local office, Malcolm scanned his mental Rolodex of excuses for one that would get him out of going inside.

      Something other than the fact that he simply didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t ready. He may never be ready.

      He sat in his car, watching a few employees trickle out, carrying their boxes of belongings—each unemployed now that Harmon Braddock had passed away.

      The brave soul who would run for the vacant Twenty-ninth Congressional District seat would hire his own professional crew, but a few, like Gloria, would remain and help with whatever transition was needed from the old guard to the new.

      Then what will she do? Malcolm wondered.

      The question puzzled him, and he had to admit he really didn’t know that much about Gloria’s personal life or her history. He just knew the meticulously organized woman who ran his father’s office like a well-oiled machine. As far as he knew, she was never late, always professional and thought the sun rose and set on Harmon Braddock.

      Simply put, her hero worship of his father annoyed him.

      But say what he will, his father seemed equally impressed and dependent on Gloria as well—to the point that she was like a second daughter, a feeling that seemed mutually expressed by Malcolm’s mother as well.

      Shawnie and Tyson were also cast under her spell and had bragged about her on more than one occasion. Yep, everyone loved Gloria, and yet whenever she and Malcolm were in the same room atoms and neutrons collided.

      “C’mon. Let’s get this over with.” He removed the keys from the ignition and climbed out of his silver hybrid SUV. “Whatever you do, stay calm. Don’t let her bait you or get under your skin,” he coached, as if he was gearing up for his old college football games.

      “Malcolm.” A familiar voice whipped out at him as he lumbered up the sidewalk. He looked up and smiled into Mrs. Blake’s kind face. Something about the grandmotherly southern woman made him think of Little League and homemade apple pies. Nothing about her said politics, but in truth she was one impressive campaign manager.

      “Hello, Mrs. Blake,” he greeted her when he reached her. He stooped over and kissed each side of her face and enjoyed the sound of her lighthearted giggles.

      “Such a handsome boy,” she murmured, like she always did when their paths crossed. “What a lovely service your family put together this past weekend. Your father was a very special man.” Her eyes shimmered. “I can’t tell you how much he’ll be missed.”

      “We’ll all miss him,” he said, combating his own tears.

      “You know, I don’t even understand why he was driving himself that night,” she said. “He usually had his personal driver, Joe, take him everywhere.”

      Malcolm nodded solemnly. “I guess he just felt like driving himself that night,” he said. “The police report said he had to be speeding when he lost control of the car and skidded off the road. The car flipped over and…”

      “Don’t do this to yourself. You know he was so proud of you.” Mrs. Blake gave his right cheek a loving pat. “I know the past two years…”

      Malcolm tensed and dropped his gaze.

      Mrs. СКАЧАТЬ