Supernova (5 page)

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Authors: C.L. Parker

BOOK: Supernova
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Kerrigan smiled to herself and looked back toward the house. Nothing had changed about it. A little more weathered and in need of some repair perhaps, but it was the same nonetheless. The paint was chipping, but it added character to the place. She took in the white trimmed wraparound porch with its ceiling fans, rocking chairs, and old wooden porch swing. There were two more porches above the first, one off each level. The rooftop was a light gray color with one chimney stack protruding from the center. Not that they had ever needed to use it, but it was there, just in case.

The house may have been old, but it had been kept up over the years, outlasting all of the others before it. Grammy had once told Kerrigan that the land had been in their family since Don Pedro Menendez de Aviles first settled a colony in St. Augustine. In fact, Grammy’s first name was a variation of the famous admiral’s: Availia Milena Cruz. Milena was the traditional middle name all of the Cruz women had in common. It was handed down from generation to generation, as was the land and the home that sat upon it. Now it all belonged to Kerrigan.

She stepped out onto the brick walkway that branched off to lead to steps on either side of the porch and headed toward the house. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she might find.

Her father unlocked the door and then held the keys out to her. “I believe these are yours now.” He dropped the keys into her hand. They felt heavier than she anticipated. This was it. She may as well just go inside and get it over with.

Kerrigan opened the old screen door, recognizing the groaning creak of the aged spring, and stepped inside. The moment her foot crossed the threshold, a thousand memories came crashing back on her. Grammy was everywhere in the house – her smell, her laughter. She was engrained in every single pore, as if the house was an extension of her very essence. She thought being back there would make her sad, but she wasn’t. She was almost giddy and wanted to smile and laugh the way she and her grandmother always had. That house wasn’t a house of sadness. It was a happy home.

Kerrigan closed her eyes and allowed herself to take it all in. Each of her senses became engulfed with Grammy’s presence at once. Echoes of her grandmother’s voice humming
This Little Light of Mine
sang through her memories, and she felt comforted.

She was home.

“Move out of the way, babe.” Jackson shoved past her, breaking her reprieve.

Gabe held up his hand into the shape of a claw and prepared to swipe at the back of his head. Kerrigan caught his arm and stopped him before he could make contact, ignoring his growl of frustration.

“Jeez, this place is a dump.” Jackson walked into the living room and eyed all of her grandmother’s old antique furnishings. His rudeness made her regret that she stopped Gabe from attacking him.

Hudson looked around at what was once his childhood home. “It could use a bit of work, maybe a little remodeling, but I’d hardly call it a dump. This old house has taken care of many in her day.”

“Hud, why don’t you walk me out back to the garden?” Priscilla gave her daughter a reassuring smile and then took her husband’s hand to let him lead her out. At least she let him think he was leading her. Priscilla had a way of making him believe he was in control, even when nothing could be further from the truth. Her technique was flawless.

Kerrigan walked over to the mantle and looked at all the picture frames her grandmother kept on display there. Most of them were of her over the years, but there were also photos of her father and mother and her grandfather, as well. He had passed away at an early age, and Grammy never quite got over it. She had said on many occasions that she had merely existed through life until Kerrigan came along and gave her reason to
live
again.

“Eee, look at you,” Gabe giggled as he held up one of her childhood photos. “I guess you were kind of cute in a Shirley Temple kind of way, but I’m still cuter.”

Kerrigan laughed and shoved her shoulder into him playfully. She turned and walked down the hall to the kitchen that sat off to the left. Rounding the corner through the doorway, she collided into a wall that wasn’t supposed to be there. A human wall.

“Dammit!” the stranger shouted. He fought to control the glass of water in danger of slipping from his hand. Once composed, he eyed Kerrigan warily before realization set in. “Oh, you must be Availia’s family. I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Kerrigan took in the sight before her and was rendered speechless. The man was tall with thick, black hair that was cut neatly and looked soft to the touch. Tanned skin was covered by some sort of tribal tattoo that peeked from under the collar of his black T-shirt and extended up the length of his neck to lick at his hairline. Her eyes were drawn to his face, and he was more attractive than any one man had the right to be.

He had a prominent jaw line shadowed by a thin, light beard and high, masculine cheek bones. Full red lips with the little cupid’s bow divot on the top captured her attention as they formed words she didn’t quite hear.

“Hellooo?” His voice was deep and velvet smooth, although laced with a hint of irritation. “Are you deaf? I said, ‘Who are you?’ ”

Her eyes snapped to his. The words that were forming in her throat came to a halt under the intensity of his stare. They were a pale celadon green with a dark lining around the irises, so tranquil they reminded her of Caribbean waters.

“Um…I’m Kerrigan,” she answered after finding her voice. Then, as if drawn like magnets, her eyes dropped to check out the rest of him. A vintage rock T-shirt clung to his upper torso, accentuating his pectoral muscles and biceps. She wanted to reach out and touch them just to feel their strength and hardness. Low-rise jeans hugged his hips, thighs and – she had to avert her gaze when she found the bulge at his crotch. Again, wanting to touch.

He was all man and it nearly broke her heart to look at him.

“Ah,
Kerrigan.
I should’ve known. Your resemblance to Availia is uncanny. She showed me your graduation picture, but you look different. More…
grown up
perhaps.” The meaning behind his tone was evident by the way he looked her over in return.

Kerrigan’s heart thumped wildly in her chest at the way his eyes intimately raked over her body. She felt naked, like he was undressing her – insignificant piece of cotton by insignificant piece of cotton – to slowly reveal everything that lay beneath her clothing. His tongue made a deliberate sweep over his bottom lip. There was fire and hunger in his eyes. At the rate he was going, it would only be moments before that look either devoured or scorched her clothes from her body.

Even though she had just done it herself, Kerrigan was a bit miffed that he was taking so many liberties with her body. After all, he was a stranger. “Wait. Who are
you
and what are you doing in
my
house?”

“Dominic. Dominic Grayson.” He stuck his hand out to shake hers.

This is Dominic? But, he’s not wrinkly at all.

Gabe stepped up behind Kerrigan and looked Dominic over suggestively. “Oh, well hell-lo there, Mr. Make-My-Uterus-Drop.”

Kerrigan rolled her eyes at her best friend. “Gabe, how many times do we have to go over this? You do
not
have a uterus.”

“Prove it, bitch,” he snapped back at her, knowing she couldn’t. “Where are your manners? Introduce me to my future baby daddy, girl.”

“Excuse me?” Dominic’s eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline.

“Don’t pay any attention to him. You’ll get used to it,” Kerrigan said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Apparently
this
is Dominic Grayson,” she told Gabe.

Gabe gasped and put his hand to his chest limply. “Well, I’ll be. Grams was dipping in the Fountain of Youth.”

Kerrigan gasped at his insinuation. “Gabriel Michael Baxter! You watch your mouth when you’re talking about my Grammy, mister twisted sister!”

Dominic furrowed his brow in confusion. “What’s he talking about?”

As he lifted the glass of water to his lips, Kerrigan cleared her throat, uncomfortable by the admission she was about to make. “Grammy left a letter for me. She mentioned that you were staying here. He…well,
we
, sort of thought that maybe you might be her boyfriend or something.”

Dominic spat out the drink of water he had just taken, spraying it all over the front of Kerrigan’s shirt. Gabe burst into a fit of giggles, while Kerrigan looked down at herself, stunned and horrified.

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry!” Dominic sat his glass on the counter and grabbed a towel. He started wiping her down in an attempt to dry her off, but of course that meant he was dragging it across her exposed cleavage – which only served to embarrass both of them.

“Just…stop.” Kerrigan grabbed the towel from his hand to stifle the uncomfortable situation.

“Girl, is you crazy?” Gabe asked in a shrill voice. “You better let that man feel you up!”

“I wasn’t feeling her up!” Dominic said defensively. When Gabe gave him a look that said he knew better, Dominic sighed in exasperation. “Look, I’m just going to go in the other room and try to forget any of this ever happened.”

He started for the door, but Kerrigan was still blocking it. As he attempted to squeeze past her, they ended up doing an awkward dance that could either be considered the worst imitation of some hokey line dance, or an unconventional mating ritual. He was so close she could feel his breath wash over her skin. She was shocked when it wasn’t warm like she would have expected. It was cold, like he had just sucked on an ice cube. Their bodies rubbed against each other in the process, giving Kerrigan a pretty good feel of his
assets
against her abdomen. It was a dead giveaway when she sucked in a breath and held it. Dominic stopped moving and looked down at her with a smug grin.

Seeing his eyes close up, Kerrigan felt a twinge of familiarity, like she had seen them before. Of course it was very possible that if he was a friend of her grandmother’s they had probably met at some time or another. Maybe when they were younger and that was why she didn’t remember him. But those eyes. She knew those eyes.

And those eyes knew her. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. He lifted his hand and propped it against the doorframe. That was when Kerrigan saw it – the jade bracelet from her dream. Her thoughts transcended time, and she was suddenly with her grandmother again, making that very same bracelet. She knew it was the same because there was one lonely, blue moonstone in the center, the one that had rolled across the floor to her feet.

Kerrigan swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “I made that bracelet. Where did you get it?”

Dominic’s pale green eyes drifted to the jewelry wrapped around his left wrist, and his brow furrowed. He fingered the beads, regarding the trinket with an expression of longing. “It was a gift from a friend.”

“Kerri, there you are!” Jackson belted out, stomping like an oaf down the hallway. When he saw Dominic standing there, he turned his attention to him instead. “Who the hell are you?”

Kerrigan rolled her eyes at his rudeness. “This is Dominic Grayson. He’s one of Grammy’s friends,” she told him. “Dominic, this is Jackson Knoff.”

“Pronounced, jack-n-off,” Gabe enunciated, earning a death glare from Jackson.

Kerrigan snorted, the sound causing Jackson to turn his attention on her. Clearing her throat and turning her head, she did her best to hide her smile.

“I’m just going to…” Dominic pointed to the dining room across the hall. He slid past her and excused himself from the uncomfortable situation.

“Oh, is that a screened-in porch?” Gabe feigned interest, and then he was gone as well, leaving his best friend alone with her sort-of-fiancé/self-indulgent-jackass.

Kerrigan walked into the kitchen, surveying the old white cabinets and double basin sink made of porcelain over cast iron. The square table that sat in the center of the eat-in kitchen had a red Formica tabletop and four matching chairs. The red vinyl covering the chairs was split in the center from wear with sections showing some of the foam batting beneath. The metal edge of the table was meticulously clean, a tribute to all of Grammy’s hard work at keeping her modest home as tidy as possible. The walls were painted a pale yellow to match the sheer curtain panels with little yellow and red flowers that hung from the one window set into the far left wall.

She could see her grandmother in every square inch of the place and could practically smell the bacon she used to cook for her every morning for breakfast.

“The appliances are a little old and will need to be updated,” Kerrigan murmured, more to herself, as she looked at the stove.

“Nah, you won’t have to worry about that, babe. I just got off the phone with the contractors. They agreed to start first thing next week.”

She arched a brow and turned to look at him. “Contractors? What contractors? What are you talking about?”

“The contractors, Kerri,” he said as if the answer should be obvious. “They’re going to get all the paperwork done and can start bulldozing next week.”

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