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She wasn’t the real villain.
No, that honor lay with the pompous asshole Henry O’Keefe and his little band of spoiled cronies who wouldn’t take no for an answer and were more than willing to bend the rules until they broke—in their pursuit of whoever or whatever they had their eyes on.
In this case, my father’s museum.
My museum.
“They have some paperwork that needs to be signed,” Lana continued, her tone starting to grate on me.
“I’ll be out in the hangar in five,” I told her, cutting in before she could rattle off the rest of my to-do list for the day. I wasn’t ready for it all to be dumped on me just yet. I had just barely taken a sip of my first cup of coffee. “I need to go back to the house and get my phone.”
She sputtered a rebuttal, but I set my cup down and took off at an easy jog, out the front doors and back across the gravel drive that separated my house from the museum. The property overlooked the Pacific Ocean from a bluff high above the coast, and down the steep ravine lay Holiday Cove. This sleepy little beach town had become my home since the day my father passed away and left me in charge of the big ass estate.
I ran inside the bungalow style house, took the stairs two at a time, and searched my bedroom. I tore through the sheets and rummaged through the drawer of my bedside table. No phone. With a growl of frustration, I ran back through the memories of the night before. With a laugh, I remembered that my antics with Kimberly hadn’t started in the bedroom…
I raced back down the stairs and found my discarded pile of clothes littering the living room floor where Kimberly had stripped them off. We’d crashed through the front door, ready to rock and roll, and ended up on the couch before making our way upstairs, both of us already naked as fuck.
A rush of sensations crashed over me like high tidal waves when I remembered the sounds she’d made when I’d plowed into her against the wall next to the fireplace. Her thighs had gripped my hips tighter with each thrust and she’d torn my back up with her long fingernails.
With a shake of my head, I pulled myself from the steamy memories and found my jeans on the floor. My wallet and phone were still in their respective pockets, and I transferred them both to my fresh pair before tossing the worn jeans back to the couch. I’d deal with it later.
I had more important things to do today than laundry.
12
“Ready for the finishing touch?” Lana asked, smiling up at me.
It took me a moment to figure out what she was referring to, but it came back as she produced a flat box. “The plaque,” I said, taking the package from her, my voice was thick with emotion, and suddenly, I wished she wasn’t standing so close. “Thanks.”
She’d already unsealed the tape around the end, so I could easily slip it open. I dumped out the bubble-wrapped contents and unfolded a cherry wood plaque with a bronze plate on the front.
IN MEMORY OF JAMES M. ROSEN
THIS ONE’S FOR YOU DAD
I swallowed hard, pushing down the lump in my throat before it choked me. There had been a time in my life when I wouldn’t have been able to recall the last time I’d cried. However, since my dad’s passing, it was easy to pinpoint the last time I’d lost complete control.
It had cost me a lot more than just a few tears.
My last meltdown had cost me my Navy career.
I turned the plaque, letting the sunlight from the large windows shine across the polished, unblemished surface.
I cleared my throat. “All right, looks good. Once those guys are finished and the plane is put back together, I’ll order a fancy stand and set it right in front. Probably over there,” I pointed at the place in front of where the F-4 was now being set up in a prominent space. They’d taken the wings off for transport, and the moving crew was busy putting everything back in place. They had roped off the space and were busily humming along with their tasks.
It wasn’t the first thing visitors would see when they came in. I wanted it to be more of a show stopper, and I had it positioned along the back row, in the center, with smaller, less flashy planes flanking each side.
Lana took the plaque from my hand and the rest of the employees that had gathered around all hustled back into action, going back to whatever they’d abandoned when Lana had called everyone together for the unveiling.
“Let’s get ready for a full day,” I called out behind me as I hurried back to my office. I could feel pressure welling up inside me and if I was going to break, I wanted to be alone.
