Gypsy Beach (22 page)

“Evie Grace!” John melted as he scooped Evie
up and hugged her. “Have you been having fun with Daddy?”

“Yes, and Sienna, and tomorrow I’m going to
go back to see Mommy and Gram because Gram is sick and I can make
her feel better.”

John’s automatic scowl let Ryan know
precisely what he thought of the agreement.

“Come on, Sienna’s got dinner ready.” Not
interested in engaging in a debate with John just yet, Ryan ushered
them into the kitchen. Having a lawyer for a best friend was
occasionally exhausting. John loved to argue about most anything.
He seemed to genuinely enjoy it.

“Hey, John, come on in. I hope you like
chili. I made cheesy garlic bread to go with.”

John’s eyes tracked over Sienna in a
crocheted knit top and long billowing skirt. Her midriff and
bellybutton ring were exposed, but she’d covered them in that apron
that drove Ryan insane with lust.

With a minute headshake, John shot Ryan a
distinct eye roll. “Sounds great, Sienna. You didn’t have to cook.
Did Ry forget to mention that women don’t have to be chained to a
stove anymore? Bras went up in flames and badda-bing badda-boom,
you’re liberated. Don’t let him order you around.”

Sienna cocked her jaw to the side and
narrowed her eyes. Her hands flew to her sexy hips. Ryan ran his
right hand over his face in an effort wipe away the incoming
hysterical laughter. John Rowan had just met his match.

“Actually, women are far from liberated,
John,” she sneered. “We still haven’t achieved equal wages, equal
opportunities, or an escape from macho, sexiest pricks that think
they are free to comment on how we look, how we walk, or how we
talk. So, you have nothing to worry about. It’s still a man’s
world. Don’t be scared. And some of us like to cook. I, for one,
feel that women should do whatever it is they find fulfilling, be
it run a corporation, be president of the United States, or cook a
kick-ass meal for their boyfriends and their pig-headed best
friends. Now sit down, shut up, and eat.”

Ryan waited on her to finish her diatribe
before he grabbed her and kissed her heatedly. “I love you,” he
vowed as soon as she broke the kiss.

“I love you, too.” Her temper flare had left
her a little shaky, so he held her a few minutes longer, letting
her hide in him. She turned her face against his neck, and he
cradled her tenderly until she was ready to face John, and the
world, again.

After Sienna and Ryan put Evie to bed, they
sat on the McNamara’s sofa and listened to John’s tale. “I went
with the sheriff to deliver the subpoena for the deed. He showed it
to me. It’s dated March 25, 1977, which is about ten years before
you said your grandmother took possession of the Inn, right
Sienna?”

“Yeah, Nana moved in when she found out my
mom was pregnant with me, so that was 1988. I’m why she bought the
Inn. She was pretty young when she passed, so she was only in her
late forties then.”

“Okay, well, the main problem with Roby’s
claim is that the deed was never filed when he purchased the Inn,
and then the agreement between he and your grandmother was rather
unorthodox. He does have about 10 written receipts of her paying
him before the Vernal Equinox each year just like he said, but the
other years he has no record of.

“He claims that your grandmother met her
debts in other ways. The point of all of this is that we’re going
to have to go to court and let the judge decide. Roby wants you to
pay him the new appraised value of the Inn. He wants a legal bill
of sale and to be done with it, so he says. I pressed him on
letting the payments your grandmother already paid be deducted from
the amount you would owe, but he’s stubborn. Because the deed he
has was never filed with the Superior Court, there is no active
rebuttal presumption.”

“In non-lawyer babble, John,” Ryan
huffed.

“Here’s the bottom line. If the deed had been
filed with the court clerk, for either her grandmother or Roby, the
other would have no legal claim. Active rebuttal assumes that
whoever’s name is on the deed is the legal owner, no questions
asked. But the only deed on file with the clerk is the deed Sienna
received a few weeks ago when she got the house out of probate.

“Because Roby has a preceding, unfiled deed,
you do stand to lose the Inn if you cannot pay him for it either
via a mortgage or with cash. I’m going to do everything I can. I am
going to claim adverse possession. Sienna and her grandmother lived
in, cared for, and paid the taxes on the Inn for more than 20
years, which will discredit Roby’s claim. But the lawyer friend I
mentioned earlier, the way I’m getting to represent you through his
practice, is concerned about the ongoing discord about who actually
owns all of the property on Gypsy Beach. If money doesn’t come into
play indicating a legal, undisputed sale, he’s worried the judge
will rule in Roby’s favor simply because your grandmother was
a….”

“Gypsy,” Sienna provided for him.

“That’s insane!” Ryan couldn’t believe what
he was hearing.

“Grudges and prejudices run very, very deep,
Ry, you know that. And I may have just made it worse. He’s worried
that you’ve lawyered up and that you have no intention of making
more payments, so he pushed for a trial sooner than later. Because
this place is in the middle of nowhere and the Circuit Court has
little to nothing to do, they set the trial for next week. I can
try to hang it up and get a delay, but they seemed anxious to have
something on the docket.”

Sienna slumped beside Ryan. He wrapped his
arms around her. “I will figure out something, baby. I’m not going
to let you lose your home. I promise you.”

John shot him a warning glare that said not
to make that promise, but Ryan had a plan.

“As I’m certain you know since you just paid
off the taxes, the appraised value of the Gypsy Inn is $650,000 as
it is damaged commercial rental property.” John sighed.

Tears streamed down Sienna’s beautiful face.
“Ryan, I can’t afford a mortgage like that. Even if I managed to
rent it out all year, I’d never make enough.” She tried to fight
the convulsion that brought on sobs, but couldn’t manage the
task.

It was nearing midnight when Ryan returned to
the kitchen. He’d asked John to hang out while he took Sienna to
their bedroom, swore to her that he would not let her lose the Inn,
vowed to take care of her always, and then soothed her to
sleep.

He scrubbed his hands over his face weary
from the day, the week; hell, the past year.

John was rummaging through the refrigerator.
“I assume you have no food because your Gypsy feminist princess is
feeding you all your meals.”

“You wanna lay off the Gypsy thing? I’m in
the mood to pound the shit out of something. Don’t move to the top
of the short list.”

“As many times as you’ve threatened me
lately, I do have to admit you look a million times better. You
look alive again. I was getting worried.”

“I finally feel alive and like I have a
reason for living. We just need to get this shit worked out with
Alexa and then I can get on with my life here. Evie loves Sienna,
and she loves living here.”

John seemed to bite back whatever retort he
was going to make. “Hey, I’ll take Evie Grace to Alexa for you
tomorrow. I’m going back anyway.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate that. I’m not
quite ready to expose Sienna to Alexa.” Ryan shuddered.

John chuckled his agreement. “Hey, what’d you
want to ask me?”

Ryan was sick to death of all of the
precautions. The impudence of it all left him chaffed raw. He’d
built a business making solid, split-second decisions. All of the
precaution and rhetoric was eating at his soul.

“I need whatever paperwork I’m supposed to
have that says Evie can be with Alexa for a few days, but then I
get her back.”

“Well, since she signed her over to you for
the next month, you can have her back whenever you want her. Not
sure why you’re playing nice with Alexa though.”

“Her mother’s dying, John, and I’m tired of
hating her. I made a kid with her. It would be nice if we could
occasionally be civil.”

“Yeah, I’m all for civil, Ryan, but don’t
forget that if you lose your plea for full-custody, there won’t be
any Gypsy Beach, or Sienna, or her Inn. You’ll get Evie every two
weeks, but you’ll have to be in Georgia. Maybe you should let Roby
claim the Inn and talk Sienna into moving if you’re so sure she’s a
good idea, because I don’t see you surviving all that well dividing
your time between here and Atlanta. How in God’s name would you run
a business like that?”

“I’m not letting that bastard take her home,
John. I’m selling this place. I’ll pay him off and give her the
Inn. I already have a buyer.”

“What?!” John gasped. “Are you fucking
insane?”

Ryan leveled a cold glare at his best
friend.

“I hate to rain on your parade, Ryan, but
this is your only residence. This is what you’re claiming will be
Evie’s home. You having a stable place to live is very important
for your custody plea!”

“I’ll have Evie a home, John. Don’t be
ridiculous. This place was purchased outright long before I married
Alexa. It belonged to my parents and then to me when they lost
everything. Alexa has no claim to the sale money, right?”

John sank down on the couch rubbing his
temples. “In theory, no, but this is Alexa we’re talking
about.”

“That’s all I needed to know.”

“Where are you gonna live?”

Ryan turned towards the shoreline gazing
towards what he intended to make his home. “I’m gonna get Sienna a
ring, as soon as the divorce is….” He halted his explanation
abruptly. “Fucking hell!” He threw open the sliding glass door and
took off down the beach. Lights were on at the Inn and someone was
moving inside.

“Ryan!” John called and then took off after
him. Ryan pointed to the Inn. Flashlight beams spun around the
kitchen.

“Who is that?” John gasped for breath.

Even Ryan’s days of running hadn’t quite
prepared him for his velocity. A stitch pulled at his side, but he
pressed on.

He flung open the back door just as the front
door slammed shut. John headed around front, but they’d missed the
intruder by a matter of seconds.

There were no getaway cars. The intruder was
on foot. Ryan raced after the footfalls but halted abruptly when he
realized that he’d left his girls alone on the other end of the
beach. What if he was being lured away?

He returned to the Inn to take a quick,
haphazard inventory. Not much had been moved. A few of the kitchen
drawers were open but nothing else. The intruder had either been
alerted to their arrival or had seen them coming. They clearly
hadn’t been there long. He locked the Inn up and raced back
home.

Ryan never slowed as he took the steps inside
his beach house two at a time. He checked on Evie first and then
Sienna, relieved to see that they were both still sound asleep. He
brushed kisses on their sweet cheeks and made certain they were
warm enough before he returned downstairs.

Still trying to catch his breath, John had
returned to the refrigerator and extracted a six-pack he must’ve
brought with him. He offered Ryan one, but certainly wasn’t
surprised when he shook his head and made a glass of ice water
instead.

“Any idea who that might’ve been?” John fell
back on the couch.

“That’s the second time it’s happened.
Somebody ransacked the place while we were in Atlanta getting Evie
from your house. Nothing was taken. They’re looking for
something.”

John’s brow furrowed. “You think it could be
Roby? Maybe he’s trying to scare her into selling or
something.”

Ryan shook his head. “Roby couldn’t have
gotten away that fast. He’s gotta be 75 years old. He can’t outrun
me.”

“So, who is it?”

“Sienna’s a little worried it might be some
asshole ex of hers. I don’t know. That’s far-fetched as well, but
so help me, if it is him, you’re gonna be defending me in my murder
trial.”

“So, this girl that you’ve been in love with
for half your life just happens to show up at this half-wit beach
town at the same moment as you. You magically fall back in love,
oh, except her Inn isn’t really hers, she has no money but needs a
contractor, and she might just need a big strong guy to take care
of her. Yet, you introduce her to your daughter and are willing to
sell your house for her. Man, she cannot be that good in bed. You
need to remember who she comes from. She’s a Gypsy!”

Fury exploded from Ryan’s gut and rocketed
outwards. He threw the sliding glass door open again. “Get
out!”

Stunned disbelief flew over John’s features.
“What?”

“I said get out!” The menace in Ryan’s tone
left little room for question.

“I’m trying to look out for you. Forgive me!
You know you haven’t made the best decisions in your life. That’s
fairly obvious. I’m just trying to keep you from making another
one.” He gathered his briefcase, duffle bag, and jacket. “I’ll come
pick Evie up in the morning.” His final rebuttal was lost in the
sea breeze as he climbed in his Porsche and sped away.

The hot shower did nothing to cool his
temper. Not bothering to even pull on a pair of boxers, Ryan
climbed into bed with Sienna. He planned on staying up most of the
night and keeping an eye on the Inn, but he just needed to be
beside her when he could.

“You okay?” Her soft intonation brought him a
sense of calm. She slid across the mattress and clung to him as she
laid on his chest.

“Yeah,” he lied.

“I love you.” There was a note of desperation
in her voice. She’d overheard the argument.

“I know, baby. I can feel it. Please don’t
ever think I doubted you or your intentions. John’s an idiot. He’s
been in on the explosive endings of so many marriages, he can’t
even recognize love anymore.”