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Grayson patted his belly. “Don’t mind if I do.” Hope snickered. He was almost salivating.
Although the cornbread smelled heavenly, Hope knew she didn’t have any room for it in her belly. She shook her head. “No thanks. We had lunch not too long ago. It smells scrumptious but the chili filled me up.”
“We?” Morgan mouthed the word so only Hope could see. Hope shook her head at her friend. She’d slipped up by saying we. Although it wasn’t a crime by any means to have indulged in a meal with Grayson, she cringed at the thought of anyone thinking
she was romantically linked with him.
Lunch had been a practical move! Nothing more. Nothing less. Just keep telling yourself that! A voice droned in her ear.
She shook her head disapprovingly at Morgan who was grinning from ear to ear.
“Why don’t we continue with the tour?” Hope suggested, wanting to get far away from Morgan before Grayson caught on to her suggestive winks. Hope didn’t need Grayson to think her friend was suggesting anything romantic between them.
Grayson nodded to Morgan. With a mouth full of cornbread, he mumbled, “Thanks for the food.”
Hope waved at Morgan who gave her a wink and a thumbs up. Hope rolled her eyes. Just because all of her best friends in the entire world had been struck by Cupid’s bow, it didn’t mean that she was next to fall in love. And even though Grayson looked like he could grace the cover of a romance novel, Hope didn’t harbor any illusions about him being her very own hero. Life had shown her that she had to be careful. She wasn’t a very good judge of character when it came to men. The heart wasn’t always a good gauge. Sometimes it led one astray. Hope had no intention of being led down the garden path. Not ever again.
“Savannah House is more than just a resort. It’s a lasting legacy, a monument to the hopes and dreams of my parents. It’s withstood hurricanes, tornadoes, world wars, depression, death and despair. And still it endures.” Miss Hattie Alexander
Chapter Six
Grayson couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so awestruck by something. He considered himself a pretty laid-back guy, one who didn’t get overly excited about possessions or homes or fancy cars. In his mind there was nothing more impressive than the swirling waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Vast, majestic and powerful.
At this moment he could say the very same thing for Savannah House. Hope was treating him to the full tour. She was showing him every nook and cranny of the resort, from the grand library to the parlor to the sweeping grounds to the guest suites. She showed him the areas of the bed and breakfast that had been recently renovated and the secret hiding places Miss Hattie had shown them when they were children.
“Savannah House was built by Tuck Alexander in nineteen-fifteen. Tuck was Miss Hattie’s father. He was a self-made millionaire who was born dirt poor, yet he rose to the highest levels of the business world. Tuck fell in love with his wife, Patricia, and moved her to his hometown of Savannah. Together, they conceived the idea for a bed and breakfast, which they dubbed Savannah House. People traveled from all over the country to stay here. They actually had international guests on occasion.” Pride rang out in Hope’s voice as she detailed the history of the resort.
“I can imagine it was paradise,” Grayson said. “Savannah Beach is footsteps away from the resort. It doesn’t get better than that.”
“Savannah House even stuck it out during World War II and the great depression,” Hope said with a nod.
“Impressive,” Grayson said. “Nowadays places fold if a slight wind comes.”
“About five and a half years ago Miss Hattie shut down the resort. No one really knew what had happened, but the place fell into disrepair and she became a virtual shut-in.”
“That’s a shame. Maybe it became too much for her to take care of with her advanced age.”
“It’s possible.” Hope led him toward a room at the end of the hallway. She took a key out of her pocket and opened up the locked door. “This room was Miss Hattie’s bedroom. We don’t rent it out to anyone.”
Grayson felt a chill sweep across him as Hope showed him Miss Hattie’s private bedroom suite. He let out a low whistle as the grandeur of the room swept over him. Tiffany lamps sat on two bedside tables surrounding the mahogany sleigh bed. Satin pillows sat atop a white fluffy comforter. A small rug sat atop gleaming hardwood floors. A large chaise longue sat in front of a large window. Grayson walked over and looked outside. He let out a sigh. It was a spectacular view of the ocean.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Hope asked. Her voice was full of tenderness.
“It’s spectacular. Believe it or not I feel something…a presence, a vibe.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I probably sound silly, don’t I?”
“No, of course you don’t. I feel the very same way. This room is infused with Miss Hattie’s essence.” Her voice softened. “Of course you feel it. Her blood flows in your veins. You’re her family.”
Hope’s words nestled their way inside him. Suddenly he felt ten feet tall. “So you believe me? You believe I’m kin to Miss Hattie?”
Hope nodded. “I do. Those documents you showed me have seals on them. They’re real. And you dropped the lawsuit which showed your sincerity. You didn’t come here for anything material. You came to Savannah seeking answers about your family ties. I can appreciate that.”
“Thank you, Hope. Hearing that from you means a lot to me.”
Grayson was standing so close to her that their arms were touching. He felt a wild impulse to kiss her—a tender, romantic kiss filled with gratitude and admiration and attraction. He stared at her red full lips. They were enticing. Beautiful. But he knew if he did he would scare her away. And he didn’t want that. Not by a long shot. A woman like Hope was a keeper. And if the day came when he decided to plant a kiss on her lovely lips, he wanted Hope to kiss him back with equal fervor. That time was coming, but it wasn’t today. Today was about exploration. It was about connecting with his heritage. Perhaps someday his father could appreciate this connection to the Alexander family.
Hope reached out and picked up a framed photo from a vanity table. She held it out for Grayson to see. The black and white framed photo was of a dark-haired, handsome young man wearing a military uniform. All my love. Forever and always. Samuel.
Samuel? “Is this…my grandfather?” he asked, a huge lump sitting in his throat.
