Uninhibited in Apple Trail, Arkansas - Volume 2 (10 page)

Blondes have more fun?
Pfft.
Bad Girls have more fun. Rebecca Gabel was accused of being a bad girl and she discovered life was easier (and more fun!) to live up to the reputation than try to deny it. But now with a new comer who’s taking her up on her suggestions, Rebecca is a little out of her element. There’s talking the talk…and then there’s having to walk it.

Grant Iverson recently inherited land from his mother, so he’s arrived in Apple Trail, Arkansas to check the place out and see if there are any treasures hidden there. What he doesn’t expect to find is a woman full of curves and a mouth of pure sin, but whose eyes reflect nothing but curious innocence.

Chapter One

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Rebecca Gabel tapped the old faded table tops and rolled her eyes at her brother. The tables looked to be the same ones that were in this diner the last time she ate here some five years ago. The very same table top she ate on as a toddler. The same tables which had been turned over and flipped upside down on more than one occasion because of a fight or two.

Her brother Mike rubbed the back of his neck. “You can say it. You’re pregnant.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be an idiot, Mike. I’m not pregnant.”

“You have an STD.”

“No.”

“Cancer?”

She raised a brow. “You sure are concerned with my body, but no. No. No. And finally, no. I didn’t come home because of any of those things.” She shrugged and stirred the sugar in her coffee. She couldn’t tell her brother why she’d come back. That would just create more questions she wouldn’t answer. “I’m just homesick and miss you.”

“Why are you here?”

She lifted a brow, fairly certain he’d already asked that question and she knew without a doubt he’d heard the answer. “Because this is where I want to be right now. Leave it alone, okay? I miss my big brother’s nagging questions.” That much was mostly true. Nagging questions and all, her brother always cared about her, no matter what happened, he was always there. She glanced up from her coffee. “Maybe I came home because I wanted to know how my brother could get married without inviting me.”

His cheeks colored and he cleared his throat. “It was a quick thing.”

“It’s not that long of a drive from Florida. Mom is still pissed at you, by the way. Tells all her friends how terrible it was you got married in a courthouse and robbed her of a real wedding.”

“She still has you to hang that hat on.”

Rebecca forced a snort in response. And just how close mom had come to getting that chance too. Rebecca shook her head, thankful she’d gotten her head on straight before it was really too late.

“Mike Gabel?”

Mike turned and Rebecca lifted her gaze to the interruption.

Damn
.

No. She blinked and dragged her chin off her knees. Not just damn, but
day-um.
Tall. Tanned. Tattooed. Shaved head down to a dark shadow over his head. Black grease smeared over his white tank that just barely—oh, what the hell—that wasn’t even coming close to hiding rippling, pouring, drool worthy muscles of his chest and abs and
holy hell
, look at those thighs in those jeans.

Rebecca would have come back to little small town Apple Trail, Arkansas one hell of a long time ago if she knew this prime piece of beef had been living here. And maybe if she tried hard enough, she could squeeze
hell
in one more time.

Like how far into hell she was going by the time she finished dreaming about all the places she wanted to put her tongue on his hot body. She sucked in a freeing deep breath, one she couldn't get in the city. In this small town, she could do more than just think her thoughts. As a matter of fact, it was expected for her to voice them. A shiver zipped through the good girl manners she’d been minding for the past few years and had her leaning forward and showing a bit of cleavage.

Damn, it was good to be home where she didn’t have to hide.

Dark and Dreamy handed Mike some legal sized documents. “I’m turned around and a little lost. The waitress said you could help me out?”

But Rebecca really wasn’t wasting much time on those papers 'cause Dark and Dreamy met her gaze, her cleavage, then his eyes eased back up toward her lips and finally settled on her eyes once again.

She winked at him and got a thrill at the color tainting his cheeks. Oh yes, while she never imagined it would happen, it was good to be home. “Hi. Rebecca Gabel. Haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you.”

He opened his mouth, but Mike lowered the papers from his gaze. “Rebecca.”

“What?” She asked, with enough innocence laced in her tone a deaf man would hear the falseness. It took just the right pitch of her voice, perfect flutter of lashes and the right shape to her lips. She’d had years perfecting her rumored bad girl image and the act slid back over her skin like a favorite worn out pair of jeans.

This was the woman Rebecca had come home to find. The wild woman who was known for sowing her oats, taking what she wanted. Only this time, Rebecca would live up to those rumors. She’d follow her flirty words through to the end. In a few weeks, all her regret for always saying and never doing would be gone and she’d return to Florida happy. She just needed to get the chances she’d missed out of her system.

By the look in Dark and Dreamy’s eyes as he glanced down her again, he was just the ticket to a little naughty, trashy, whorish—whatever you wanted to call it—fun.

Mike stood with the papers, a frown creasing his brow as he continued to read.

Rebecca followed him out of her chair and walked close. He gave her that big brother look usually meaning he wanted some privacy. But, well, she wasn’t going anywhere and instead leaned over his shoulder.

It was some sort of official looking court document. She read a few lines about property and such and glanced up to the man at seeing a name. “Grant Iverson?”

Dark and Dreamy nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mike flipped through several sheets, turning them far faster than Rebecca could read from her angle, forcing her to fish the old fashioned way. She flashed a smile and flirted with her eyes. “New around here?”

“Is it that obvious?”

She laughed. “Pretty obvious.”

“I’m from Texas. I’m trying to find some property I inherited and have a look around. Graham Manor? Do you know it?”

Rebecca put her eyes back in her head. “Graham Manor? On Apple Lane?”

He nodded. “That’s the one.”

She leaned over her brother’s arm, because surely this man was confused.
Nobody
owned Graham Manor. Or at least, nobody cared about it. Not in the last eighty years or so. But as she looked at the document…there was the address in clear black font.

“Is there a problem, Sherriff?” Grant Iverson did that man stand of legs shoulder width apart and arms crossed over chest thing. And Grant was big and impressive enough, he really shouldn’t do that since it forced his arms to bulge out wider and made her thighs ache.

Mike was still flipping pages and stroking his fingers over a raised seal. Rebecca looked up and met his gaze. “Not a problem really, but nobody’s been to Graham Manor in some eighty years. It’s completely abandoned. The land, the home, everything. Iron gates have a rusted old lock still there from when Mrs. Graham packed up and left decades ago.”

Grant shrugged. “Like I said, I just inherited it and want to have a look at it. I got lost coming into town and I can’t find the street.”

“The drive is overgrown, there’s no mailbox and it’s easy to miss.” She pulled keys from her back pocket. “I’ll take you there.”

“Rebecca.” Mike glanced at her, his eyes narrowed.

She waved her brother off. She rode into town early this morning and called him for a meet-up. After going through a rundown of disease, disorders, jail time and other various things, she needed some space before punching him in the nose and reminding him he was her
brother
, not her keeper.

But even so, she wrapped him in a tight hug because he did care enough to at least ask, in his own way, if she was okay. “It’s fine. I don’t have anything to do for the rest of the day.” Or week. God, she hoped she got this choking smothering feeling out of her system before she had to be back home next week. “You probably have work to do anyway. Let’s go, Grant. I can show you right now.”

Mike returned the papers. “Just so you know, I’ll be verifying all this, considering the circumstances with the place.”

Grant didn’t move. “Is there a problem with my ancestors here?”

“Ancestors?” Rebecca echoed, this time her jaw all but smacked her toes.

Grant looked between them both.

“No problem.” She tied a bandana around her head. “Sorry, it’s just, the Grahams founded Apple Trail years ago. Since they left, no one has heard of them and it’s just surprising. When people find out you’re a descendant, you’re going to be a legend around here.”

Grant’s face fell. “In that case, I’d rather keep a low profile.”

She laughed. “Oh, Babycakes, you will not be able to keep a low profile in this town.”

Mike’s eyes cut to her and then back on Grant. “I’d suggest you say you’re surveying the property and leave it at that. Otherwise, my sister's right. The town is going to be insane with curiosity if they find out.”

Rebecca chuckled. “But then again, there’ll be a nonstop flow of casseroles, cakes, and other food stuff brought to you as welcoming gifts and excuses to be in your business.”

Grant’s eagle eyes hardened a touch more. “Surveyor it is. Thank you, Sherriff. I trust you and your sister will not reveal my business then?”

She lifted a brow. “And be forced to share you with everyone else? Never.”

She grinned and walked off with the sound of Mike cursing and making apologies.

Chapter Two

Grant followed Rebecca out the door and stopped in his tracks as she slung her leg in her way too short cut offs over the
Suzuki Boulevard 650
parked out front. The falling apart denim rode high up her muscled thighs. So high in fact, the white pockets of her shorts peeked out and reached down her legs like his fingers were itching to do. Her little pink shirt with those skinny straps clung to her sun-darkened shoulders as she lifted the helmet and slid it on over her long black hair. The kind of hair he liked to see sweaty and sticking to a woman’s face as she straddled him with her nails in his shoulders while riding him hard.

He frowned. Or
used
to like to see. Not anymore though, because he was moving on from that life. He was looking for the kind of woman to bring home to momma.

If his mother was still alive. Either way, the sentiment was still the same. It was time to stop wasting life and start living it for things that made it rich. Family and a home. His mom had always shared happy memories of raising her four boys and couldn’t wait to get her hands on a few grandchildren.

The grandchildren had never made it. None were even on the horizon from any of her four boys. Grant was ready for that future now, disappointed he’d not taken what his mom had always dreamed of him having sooner.

“It’s not far.” She buckled the chin strap and her teeth raked her plump lower lip. “What are you driving?”

He cleared his head and reminded himself that her brother was the Andy Griffith of this town and the man was standing three feet away, watching them. And of course, that part about Grant being ready for more from life than a great pair of legs willing to open for him. “Red truck.”

She nodded and put her feet down, balancing the bike as she walked it back from her spot on her toes. Side-to-side, the strong muscles of her legs flexed as she moved it back. “I’ll wait for you at the road.”

He started and headed for his truck and got the idea out of his head that he’d like to climb on behind her. Or offer her something else to straddle. He shook his head. It’s not like he ever thought a lifestyle change was going to be easy. It was just going to take some time before he could watch a beautiful woman on a motorcycle and not think about how those legs going around her bike would look wrapped around his waist. With that, he followed her onto the road.

No sooner did they get going, the red taillight of her bike flickered as she slowed. He checked his mileage and saw they hadn’t even gone two miles before her blinker came on and she turned off onto a hole in the woods, used-to-be-a-street to the right.

She stuck to the center of the old, grown up road and leaned over the handle bars, ducking low limbs. It forced her ass up in the air and showed off her rocking thick thighs. The kind of thighs a man could hold on to. Meat on bones, that’s what he liked to see. None of those skinny twigs.

Branches screeched alongside the old oil field truck, only adding to the number of scratches that were already in place and smacked him out of his lusty haze. A limb or two scraped the windshield and bounced over the roof.

He got his mind off her body and on what he needed to do. Another important part of why he was here. Legs and Hair and Bright Eyes in front of him with a great ass was just not on his radar for the near future.

Getting all this right was his priority, then settling down. It was all in his plan. So he needed to concentrate. First thing, get this drive trimmed back.

The road, or trail more or less, stopped all at once at iron gates with a ‘G’ on both sides of the gate. She cut her motor off and rested the bike over on the kickstand. He got out of the truck and, remembering the lock she spoke of earlier, grabbed his cutters from the toolbox in the back.

She lifted the lock as he came closer. Her raggedy and chewed looking nails with chipped red paint were bright against old rusted lock. “Nearly a pity to see it cut. It’s hung just like this for as long as I can remember.”

He stepped aside and snapped a chain in the link. “It’s either this or nothing. There’s no telling where that old key is, if it even exists anymore.”

She sighed. “Yeah. I guess it’s just a little weird. I used to walk from my house to the store for ice cream during summer and I always stopped by here. I remember standing at these gates when I was a little girl and looking in.” She shrugged. “It was like a secret garden to me. I could only imagine what all was hidden behind there. Beautiful flowers, vines, little benches. Statues of cherubs.”

She grabbed a hold of one gate and shook it. Rust flaked off. Metal creaked and cracked and she swung one side open with a shuddering squeak.

He followed suit with the other and dusted off his hands. On the other side of the gates, the overgrown drive and thick woods continued. “I guess now you’ll find out.”

She laughed and started her bike, leaving him sitting behind in a trail of dust and running for his truck to catch up.

He pulled through the gates. Huge oak trees lined the drive, clearly planted there years ago. Beyond them, he imagined was once a trimmed and kept yard. Now it was all brush and pine trees.

Second on his list, have all that clear-cut and the brush cleaned out. All he had were stories out of an old diary to know what this place once looked like. His great-great grandmother’s diary had been filled with hopes and dreams of a family and future, only to be robbed of it.

Then later, his great-grandma, same story. Patterned followed for grandma, dreams for a future, but grandpa died young.

Then his mother. His older brothers were born, the triplets too much for their “dad” to take on, and left. A few years later, Grant came along…and that man, and he used that term loosely, was gone too.

Generations of hopes for a happy future died and Grant was ready to break the bad streak of shitty men in this family, even if the happily ever after ended with having all his brothers together again.

His brothers called him an idiot for worrying about the land and the house, but Grant didn’t like having his belongings wasted away to this sort of disrepair. It’d been a trait he’d had since he was young. He couldn’t remember the number of times his brothers had called him a “mother hen” for keeping up with all their things and his too. It served as the perfect excuse now. He’d set this place up and then lure his brothers here and have them all together eventually.

If it killed him trying.

Had he known this Graham Manor even existed before the reading of his mother’s will three weeks ago, he would have already been here. It was a surprise to all of them when the lawyer read off news of this place.

Faded white peeked through a gap in the trees. He leaned over the steering wheel, squinting through his bug and dirt splattered windshield as the oak trees lining the drive opened and revealed a front circular drive. A large plantation looking house stood there. Vines grew up and wrapped the home, as though trying to drag it underground. One of the large white columns supporting the front had shifted and stood at a slight angle. The roof along the right front corner was missing.

Number three, restoration.

Eighty years of abandonment was far worse than he had imagined, but even still, he’d see it repaired and upgraded. Along with the property came money and it seemed only right to put the money were it belonged. With the land and the house.

He came to a stop and looked up to find Rebecca already off her bike and running her fingers through her black hair as she walked in front of the wide porch, a phone to her ear. He turned off his engine and she glanced over her shoulder and winked.

He couldn’t help the chuckle coming up his throat. She was just something else. Forward as hell, but not trashy in a way most girls were when they were direct. She was just…plainly put, something else. Not what he needed, he reminded himself with a clearing of his throat, but interesting.

By the time he got out of his truck, she slipped her phone in her pocket. “Was Mike. Turns out you’re the real deal.”

His lips twitched over her carefree, light-toned bluntness. “Good to know.”

She stepped back and stared up at the home. “Beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve always loved looking at this place.”

He raised an eyebrow. “There’s pictures somewhere?”

She shrugged. “Probably in the courthouse somewhere, I should think. Or the library. Mike would know. I’ll ask. I bet there are some from back in the day.”

“How do you know what it looks like then?”

A twinkle touched her eyes that reached down to the curve of her lips just before she walked up the front steps. “Because I came out here all the time when I was a teenager.”

“What?”

She continued on, looking up and around at the house. “Small town. Not much to do. This was a lot of abandoned land. Lots of four-wheeler riding out here.”

Fourth on the list: Stop that shit. “If I find damage as a result of trespassing, I will prosecute.”

That got her attention and she spun back. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “This is private property.”

She shook her head and swung open the large front door with a long, eerie creak. “Aside from mudding on a few trails, nothing should really be touched. Likely some litter here and there. Good luck getting it stopped though.”

He froze midway up the front. “People still ride on my land?”

Again, she shrugged it off and walked inside. “It’s still abandoned land. Still a small town filled with a bunch of bored, horny teenagers.”

Great.
“I won’t tolerate it.”

“I suggest you start with putting up posted signs along the edge of the property. Hell, most people likely don’t even know they’ve crossed onto this land. Don’t be surprised if you come across some deer stands too as you’re looking around. I’ve seen them when I was out here riding last.”

“People are poaching on my land?”

She shrugged. “We—”

He waved her off. “Right. Abandoned land. I’ll start on those posted signs tomorrow.”

She laughed. The sound was heavy and joyful echoing through the large entry way. “Have fun with that. You do realize you have over a thousand acres here, don’t you?”

“I don’t care. I won’t tolerate it any longer. I just learned of this place when it came to me a few weeks ago or I would have already been here.”

He peeked in the front, not trusting the old house any further. It was a wreck as expected, but she would have been impressive back in her day. Wide foyer opening. Huge curving staircase and elegant rails up one wall. A bit of furniture was hidden under sheets and pushed alongside the walls. White and black marbled floors.

His sighed inwardly. Have inspectors out to check the house for …shit, everything. “Out. I don’t trust this building.”

“All right. I’ve never had problems in here though.”

“Nice. So not only have people been all over my land, they’ve broken in my home.”

“Horney teenagers. Empty house. What do you think?” She walked out on the porch and trotted down the front. “Anything you want to know about this place?”

He followed her down and stared up at the building that was still holding on to hope. “Nearest grocery store?”

Her brow rose. “Oh, about Apple Trail.” She looked disappointed. “Yeah, that gas station you found me at has a few staples. Eggs, milk, bread. That kind of thing. They serve breakfast, lunch and supper all day in the little diner. Mostly things like biscuits and gravy, burgers and fried stuff. There’s an actual diner in town by the court house with a broader menu. If you need anything major for supplies, you’ll have to go into El Dorado. That’s the closest big town.”

He looked from the front, to the house and back to her. “Do you know much about this place out here?”

And now her eyes were back to lightening up. “Probably more than you’d want to know.”

“Try me.”

Her hands dipped in her back pockets as she walked. It dragged the back of her shorts down and showed a little sliver of her tanned and smooth back. “Well, there are ghosts that haunt the place.”

“Really?” Not exactly what he had in mind, or wanted to hear, but he’d let her go with it. Because there was that ring back in her voice. A breathless excitement that curled through him and was doing things to him that he shouldn’t be thinking about, but couldn’t stop himself from thinking it. He was new at this not looking at women for sex thing. This was just an adjustment period. No big deal, he’d get over it.

“Supposedly if you come out here on a full moon, you can see them walking through the yard.”

Oh, hell.
He brushed clammy palms over his jeans and focused on keeping his voice even. “You don’t sound like you believe.”

“Come out here with a full moon on a foggy night and it’s like looking at clouds and making out shapes and animals in the middle of the day. People see what they want. We can huddle down tonight and watch.” Tossing raised brows over her shoulder, she continued walking along the side and pointed at more brush and pine trees. “There’s a water well over there. No clue if it’s dried up.”

“You mean you haven’t stolen water from me before to see?”

She laughed and continued walking. “Never had a need to look before. There’s a creek that runs through the back fields, too. I know the property lines pretty well, but I’d have to have a map for sure. From the stories I've heard, this was all crops at one point that used to feed people while they were still settling the town. Metal windmills were huge back then and apparently something to see.”