Accidental Heiress (Welcome to Spartan Book 2) Page 3

  Before I can say anything else, they’re walking out the door, discussing coordinating their outfits for tonight. I shake my head as I watch them both squeeze onto the scooter.

  I make a call to Rosie’s Roses and order a dozen crazy daisies. Then I call in a favor to a deputy who works a county over and ask him to cover the town tonight so I can go to the party.

  After that’s taken care of, I reluctantly dive into the paperwork I’ve been putting off all day.

  When I found Amy in the woods, she was sitting at her mother’s grave. I’ve been dreading this for a while now. I don’t want her to have to move her mom, but technically, they need to have a permit to bury someone on private property. The “Home Burial” process is long, and is very rarely approved. Another big problem is that the property is listed as private property, owned by the Hampden Family Trust. This was when I started to sweat. I know for a fact that there’s no one living here or near Spartan with that last name.

  Another issue is that a death certificate was never filed for her mother. If I can get the home burial approved, we won’t have to move her. I just don’t know how to approach all this with Amy. I don’t want to upset her, but at the same time, if that land is owned by someone else and they sell or want to build something there, it could be a nasty situation.

  I search Hampden Family Trust, and it lists a law firm here in New Jersey—Paulik, Prescott, and Majors. Picking up the phone, I call the office number listed.

  “Paulik, Prescott, and Majors. This is Tiffany, how may I direct your call?”

  “This is Officer Parker West from Spartan, New Jersey. I need to speak to someone about a piece of land here that shows is owned by the Hampden Family Trust.”

  “Why?” she snaps, making me frown.

  “I have some questions and would like to speak to someone regarding it.”

  “I’m sorry, but they’re out right now.”

  “All right. Can I have their voicemail? Who is it that I need to speak to about it?”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t give out that information.” She hangs up the phone before I can ask her to at least take a message.

  Sitting back in my chair, I debate on what to do. Tapping my pen on the desk, I think on her reaction, and I don’t like it one bit. I decide to call my bastard of a brother-in-law. I’ve never gotten along with Todd, even though we grew up right next door to each. He’s four years older than me, and I went ballistic when I found out he was dating my older sister. When he married her, I questioned her sanity. He’s an arrogant, stuck-up, FBI asshole. But in this case, he might be my best bet.

  “What’s up, Deputy Dick?”

  “My foot up your ass. I need your help with something serious, so cut the shit.”

  “Fine.”

  “I need you to look into the Hampden Family Trust. It owns a very large piece of property here, and I’ve already called the law office that handles the trust. The receptionist just sounded weird, nervous. She wouldn’t let me leave a message, or tell me who to call back and ask for.”

  “Can I ask why you’re looking into it?”

  “It’s a long story, but I need to find out for the girl I’m dating. Amy’s parents were survivalists, I guess, living in a tent and stuff on the property. I just need more information before I move forward on some things.”

  “I’ll see what I can find. Hey, you coming up for Mom and Dad’s anniversary party? Andrea said she couldn’t get ahold of you.”

  “I don’t know. I have to see if I can get someone to cover for me that weekend. The guy who usually does has his daughter this summer so I’m not sure. As soon as I know, I’ll let her know.”

  “10-4, Deputy Dick.” He hangs up on me before I can chew him out. I hate when he calls me that.

  Locking up the computer and putting all the paperwork in my locked cabinet, I head to Rosie’s, then I’m off to Bailey’s. I’m more confused and concerned than ever that this is about to turn into a shitstorm of epic proportions.

  Amy

  I swagger into Bailey’s like I own the place. My white maxi dress is on point and the place is packed to the gills with people. There are tables covered with food, and the music is pumping out of the jukebox. I can’t help but give a little shimmy shake to the Beach Boys.

  Practically skipping to the bar, I panic when the crowd closes in on me, but I shake it off when I get a load of Bruce shaking his old man butt in black and white checkered pants, and a black silk shirt, unbuttoned to his belly button.

  I dance my way over to him and he starts to swing dance with me. My long hair is down tonight and flying all over the place as he swings me around.

  Looking over my shoulder, I see Paul and Lucille doing much the same. Paul and Bruce are dressed identical and look hilarious.

  When Abba’s Dancing Queen comes on, Luke comes out on the dance floor, shaking his butt. Ali just stands there, shaking her head at his antics.

  I make my way over to the bar and wait for Cleo to head my way. I’d felt a little uncomfortable with this strapless maxi dress baring my shoulders, but after dancing for a bit, I’m sweating my booty off, so I pull off the cardigan and shove it in my purse.

  Cleo finally makes her way over. “Hey, sugar. What can I get ya?”

  She looks freaking stunning in a shimmery gold halter top and black shorts. “Cranberry and vodka, please.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “I’m gonna need to see some ID, little lady,” she says with a wink.

  Beyond freaking excited, I can’t help but squeal when I pull out my new wallet and wiggle my ID out of its tight plastic slot. I hand it over and she looks at me, then my ID, then back at me again.

  “It’s a good picture, right? The lady kept telling me to stop smiling so wide, but I was just so jazzed.”

  “It’s a beautiful picture, sweet cheeks, but go easy on the drinks, okay? Pace yourself and drink water.” She winks at me and slides my drink over. “Give me your purse and I’ll put it behind the bar.”

  I pull out my wallet again and grab my debit card, but she shakes her head. “It's on the house tonight, darling. No bitching about it. Everyone donated a bit, and this party is for you, girl. Congrats on the license and moving to town.” I’m beyond blessed to live in this wonderful town. “Now, get out there and dance. Shake what ya momma gave you.”

  Giggling, I take a sip and moan. Ali and me snuck some vodka when we were around sixteen or so, and I always loved it.

  I head out to the dance floor and let the music flow through my bones, dancing like no one is watching.

  The song changes and my mind explodes as Parker comes sliding into the bar, literally air guitaring to Bohemian Rhapsody. He looks so lickable right now. His jeans probably used to be dark washed but are now faded, and they’re tight in all the best places. He has on a black T-shirt that I really want to watch him pull off, slowly. Luke butts in and soon the entire bar is joining in on this epic performance.

  Parker sings his way over to me and I erupt into giggles as his hands slide around my back. “Hey, sugar baby.” He kisses me softly and I melt. This man is the peanut butter to my jelly.

  We sway back and forth when the song slows down, and the whole bar starts making kissy noises. Turds.

  “I’m going to get a drink. I talked to a buddy of mine in the town over to cover for me tonight so I can cut loose with my girl.”

  Kung Foo Fighting comes on and the whole bar erupts when Bruce rips his shirt open, showing off his kung foo moves. He grabs his wife, Shelly, and starts disco dancing like John Travolta. Laughing at Bruce, I’m clapping and yelling along with everyone else.

  Parker's arms come back around my middle and I feel his lips on the back of my neck. Goose bumps race across my skin. I pull him over to the table that I set my drink down on and take a healthy swig. Cleo slides around the table, checking drinks, and sets a glass of water down on my table. Smiling at her, Parker pulls me down to sit on his lap as I take in the scenery. I’ve never been happie
r to live in this amazing town. The people might be crazy, but this right here is heaven on earth. All these people who haven’t really known me, other than in passing, came out to celebrate me, little Amy Rain, for no other reason than I got my driver’s license.

  “Let’s go get some food, doll.” Nodding my head, we get up and head to the food table. I pile my plate high with every single dish I can. I want to try everything.

  That’s another thing that sucked about living in the woods. Yes, I had food, but nothing like this. Cupcakes, corn on the cob, lasagna, casseroles, and little tiny hot dogs cannot be found or grown in the woods. Parker raises an eyebrow when he sees how much food I have on my plate. I just stick my tongue out at him.

  “A girl’s gotta eat, Parker, so stuff it.”

  1 hour later

  I’m dancing in Parker's strong arms. I’m a tad bit tipsy, but have taken Cleo’s advice to heart and paced myself, keeping the water coming between drinks. The food was so good, I couldn’t help the moans of pleasure as the complex, orgasmic flavors burst over my tongue.

  When the song ends, I grab Parker's hand and drag him outside. I need a minute to cool off. Once outside, I take big gulps of air. Grabbing hold of the bottom of my dress, I pull it up and down, trying to get a breeze up my dress because I’m roasting.

  Parker’s leaning against the building when I turn to look at him, his sexy mouth kicked up into an amused grin.

  “Having fun, pretty girl?”

  “I have never in my life had this much fun.”

  “I’m glad. Seeing you smile makes me hard.”

  “I’m fairly certain Wally Cleaver wouldn’t talk so crass, Parker.”

  Feeling way braver than I truly am, with the vodka flowing through my veins, I slide up to him and snuggle close. His hand clings to my lower back and his eyes are laser focused as he studies my face. His hands slide down, cupping both butt cheeks.

  “You're playing with fire, my little Sprite.”

  “Maybe I want to be burned.”

  His large hands reach up to cup my jaw. My next breath is stolen as his lips land on mine. It’s a gentle kiss that tells me exactly how he feels about me, and it feels much deeper than I expected.

  The blip blip of a police car has me jumping about a hundred feet. “You’re a dick, Peterson.”

  “Just making sure I don’t have to write an indecent exposure ticket, P-Man.”

  Headlights pull my gaze to the left and I see a fancy car pull up and park, but I’m pulled inside before I can see who gets out. Benny and The Jets are on, and Paul and Lucille are dancing downright nasty. The geriatric hip grind is going down on the dance floor, and the whole place is in an uproar.

  We get to the bar and Parker orders another round for us. When Margo sets the drinks down, her whole body goes still. Turning around, I see Dane, Ali’s dad, and holy mackerel, the man is sexy—a total silver fox.

  Parker holds out his hand and Dane pulls him in for a bro hug. “What’s up, Dane.”

  “Heard there was a party going on, so I decided to come on down.” He turns to me and gives me a hug. “Happy twenty first birthday, and congrats on the license, Amy.”

  I crack up laughing and give Parker a kiss before heading back out to the dance floor. With Sweet Emotions blaring through the speakers, I sidle up to Ali and dance to my heart's content.

  2 hours later

  Parker

  I’m carrying a passed-out Amy into her house. Ali and Amy had a single round of Jager bombs, and things just devolved from there.

  One second she was there, and the next she was sleeping in my lap, snoring like a freight train.

  Sitting down on the front porch with my girl in my arms, I’m beyond content. Brushing her hair away from her face, I’m struck by how beautiful she is. Her long blonde hair is tangled up, damp from dancing all night.

  This woman is my everything, the reason I breathe. There’s not one single thing I would change about this gorgeous girl. My heart literally beats just for her, and I know that tomorrow I’ll have to tell her about her mom, and my heart just breaks.

  One second she’s snoring like crazy, and the next she’s up and straddling my lap, causing me to think dirty, dirty thoughts.

  Her eyes are open, but I’m not quite sure she’s awake. She looks unfocused and sleepy. Her hands slide to my neck, then down to the collar of my shirt. I think it’s time to get her to bed. Standing up, her thighs go around my hips, feet digging into my ass.

  Her hot pussy is pressed against my dick, so I start hustling into the house. Her lips are leaving a damp trail along my neck as I turn on the jets, practically flying to her room.

  I try setting her down on the bed, but her legs are locked around me. I try shaking her off, but all that does is rub her hot center even harder against me, and I can’t help the moan that breaks free.

  “Lay down for just a minute, babe. Please, just get on the bed.”

  She gives my earlobe a nip before flopping onto the bed. Flipping over, she crawls to the middle and face plants right into the pillows. Within seconds, her snoring fills the room.

  I start stripping down and head to the bathroom. Dropping my pants, I step out of my boots, and within two steps of the bathroom door, my hand is on my cock.

  No way am I getting into bed with my girl and not take care of the problem the little minx created.

  Leaning one hand on the shower wall, I close my eyes and picture my sweet girl on her knees with her sexy as fuck lips wrapped around my cock. Her gorgeous blue eyes looking up at me with innocence shining through like a fucking goddess.

  I come so quick, I should be embarrassed, but this particular image is one that always does it for me.

  My orgasm rumbles up and I groan, milking every ounce of pleasure I can. Breathing hard, I get my wits about me and finish my shower.

  Grabbing a towel, I step out and open the door to peek in at my Sleeping Beauty. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips, seeing only her ass. Her head and arms are shoved completely under the pillows, and her legs are under the blankets.

  She wiggles a little and sticks her ass in the air, letting out the cutest, most delicate squeaky fart. I have to pinch my lips closed when I hear a little drunk giggle from under the mound of pillows.

  I grab my overnight bag I dropped off earlier and pull out some pajama pants. Sliding into bed, I maneuver my girl around so her face is squished in my chest and pull the blankets up. I drift off, content in knowing my girl is safe in my arms.

  Son of a Motherless Goat

  Amy

  I’m dying. That’s the only explanation I have for the heavy feeling of my body. My head is seconds away from exploding and my tongue feels massive in my mouth. Opening my mouth, I smack my lips and good God. The taste is like a bear took a crap in my mouth.

  I concentrate on not puking all over the place. Cracking my eyes open, the bedroom is blissfully dark, but I see a note and a bottle of aspirin and water next to my bed.

  My gut immediately clenches. I’m not sure what Parker wants to talk about, but having me come down to the office sounds serious.

  Sitting up, I gulp down the water and throw back some pills before shuffling my way into the bathroom. My dress is hiked up, stuck inside my panties, and my hair looks like a squirrel made a nest. What little makeup I put on is smeared everywhere.

  I’m a hot mess.

  Stripping down, I hop in the steamy shower and groan as the hot water washes away the fog from last night. I’m never drinking again. Seriously, this is horrible.

  I have zero energy to pretty myself up. Wadding my hair up on top of my head in a messy bun, I slip into my comfortable undies and lounge pants. Pulling a hoodie on, I make my way to the kitchen and make some toast and coffee.

  Feeling somewhat human again, I grab my phone and text Parker.

  Me: I’m up, and somewhat human again. Do you want me to come down now or later?

  Parker: You can come down now. How you feeling, bab
e?

  Me: The only words I can use to describe the level of crap would send me to hell. I’m never drinking again!

  Parker: LMAO. Famous last words.

  Me: UGH!

  Grabbing my keys and a travel mug, I make my way out the door to go see Parker.

  I don’t have a clue what Parker needs to talk to me about. I’m probably making a bigger deal out of it than I need to. I just need to get out of the car and get it over with. Climbing out, I take a deep breath and make my way to his office.

  Opening the door, the bell dings and Parker comes out of his office and smiles, waving me in. I go to sit in the chair across from his desk, but he picks me up and sets me sideways on his lap.

  I struggle to get up, but his words stop me dead. “Amy, this is serious, and what I have to tell you, I need to be able to hold you, okay?” I’m beyond freaked out right now. “Take a deep breath for me, babe.” I do as I’m told and calm down, marginally.

  “Do you know, or did your parents happen to say anything about the land that you guys were usually camped on?”

  I can’t figure out where he’s going with this, but I shake my head no. “Dad always said it was God’s land, and as his followers and believers, we could live wherever we wanted to. I knew that wasn’t right, but no one ever said anything to us so I never thought about it.”

  “Okay, next thing. When your mom passed, your dad needed to notify someone in this office, and a death certificate should have been issued. That didn’t happen.”

  Tears begin running down my cheeks and he wipes them away.

  “Second thing is, the property that she’s buried on belongs to a private trust, The Hampden Family Trust. What I’m worried about is, what if they decide to sell the land that they haven’t used in years? What if they decide to build something there? Your mom is buried there, and I don’t want it to be traumatic. We need to tackle this head-on. It might be easier to exhume your mother and lay her to rest here in town. Do you know anything about your mom’s family? Anyone you think might need to be notified?”