Harlequin Desire: November 2022 Box Set 2 of 2 by LaQuette

Author:LaQuette
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2022-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

Ronnie stepped into stale darkness. There was a light switch by the door. She flicked it on, revealing a square, blank room, smelling of dust. A pile of boxes and a clump of plastic-wrapped furniture were positioned in the center.

There it was. She didn’t know what she’d expected. She knew there would be no bolt of heavenly light from above, no angel chorus. So why the clammy hands, the racing heart, the butterflies? What the hell was she looking for?

Something to feed her hungry heart.

It made her feel so vulnerable, but at least Wes was with her. She could endure being seen in this naked, fragile state by Wes. Who knew why.

The rain was getting harder, so she stepped forward, making space for Wes to follow her in. She walked over to the stack, and around it. There were a few pieces of furniture. A plastic-wrapped wingback chair, the plastic long since decayed into shreds, thick with dust. A coffee table of a dark, carved wood that looked like it might be beautiful under the grime. Many larger boxes, some smaller ones.

They had all been opened and then resealed with packing tape. Presumably on Aunt Elaine’s and Maddie’s foray years ago, looking for photographs.

Her knees were wobbly, but this was a job that needed doing, with driving, focused attention, or else she’d drown in it. She seized one of the boxes on the top and tried lifting it. It was very heavy.

“Hey!” Wes said. “Hold it right there.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “Huh? Why?”

“Let me do the heavy lifting. Didn’t you hear your aunt? What are men for but lifting dusty boxes and dealing with spiders?”

Ronnie laughed. “I’m actually quite strong, you know. I work out.”

“I noticed,” he said. “I’ve inspected every inch of you. I’m in awe.”

“Stop your blathering. I also once wrote a paper in college on tropical arachnids. I’m not scared of a few barn spiders.”

“Even so,” he said firmly, hoisting up the box. “Indulge me. What does it cost you? One tiny, throwaway gesture, to make me feel useful and manly.”

She laughed at him as she peeled off the tape that held the box closed.

It was full of books. Drip irrigation, hydroponics, ethical biofuels. Genetically modified seeds, the future of agricultural plastics.

“Let me open boxes at the same time,” he suggested. “We can inventory them twice as fast. If I find something which strikes me as personal, I’ll draw your attention to it.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pen. “We’ll label each box’s contents when we’re done.”

It sounded like a plan, so they got right to it. She sat on the floor and went through the books in the box. Some pages were marked, notes taken in her mother’s small, elegant cursive script.

She opened a book about drip irrigation techniques, and something fluttered down onto her lap. A bookmark.

Her heart jolted, in a flash of memory. It was a picture that she had drawn herself. The violets that had been blooming in the garden outside.

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