Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,6

closes the door. I hurriedly lean over and push the lock down, effectively shutting him out. It doesn’t faze him. He gives me a thumbs-up then turns away. I watch as he jogs to the end of my drive and slips into a sleek red-and-white Ford. He beeps his horn twice, and I try not to smile.

I fail.

Pretty sure he sees it. He flashes a peace sign then blows a kiss.

Ugh. Men.

That man.

Another flash of lightning behind the house causes me to jump. The accompanying crescendo of thunder booms, wiping all thoughts of the mystery stranger from my mind. I’m torn between wanting to wait the storm out in the car and wanting to risk making a run for the house, where I’ll be safer. As an onslaught of rain pounds the windshield, I know it’s now or never.

After my heart stops racing as if I’ve just run a wicked-fast hundred-meter dash, I allow myself to lean forward and peer through the window up at the house I spent most of my summers as a kid. Grief-stricken tears fill my eyes, and I quickly wipe them away as the traitorous drops spill onto my cheeks.

“No more stalling, Amelia,” I mutter to myself.

With the rain still barreling down from the raging sky, I grab my overnight bag from the back seat, deciding to leave the rest of my luggage in the car until the rain lets up. I make a mad dash for the front door, grateful to find it unlocked. At the same time, considering that a stranger just followed me home—no matter how gorgeous he was—I hesitate to step inside. Then I remember that Grams told me to expect the house to be unlocked, as the weekly caretaker would be cleaning and filling the kitchen with supplies for me.

Once inside, I shrug out of my rain jacket and slip my thongs off my feet. Though the heat wave rolling across Middle America is in full force, the combination of my wet clothes and the blast of air conditioning evokes full-body chills. Standing in the foyer, I rub my hands up and down my arms. My eyes are instantly drawn to the family photos hanging on the wall. Just like I did, my father also spent his childhood summers here. It’s even where he met and married Mom.

“Yoo-hoo. Amelia, is that you?”

Mrs. Mayfield’s dulcet voice takes me out of my reverie and into a warm comfort zone I hadn’t anticipated. With the first genuine smile I’ve had since Grams all but pushed me out the door, I walk towards the kitchen, where I’m more than thrilled to see her pouring a cup of coffee that smells heavenly.

“I know it’s darn near one hundred degrees out there, but your grandmother told me to have a cup ready when you get here.”

This is when I realize I’m shivering. From the chill of the rain or the unexpected visitor in my car, I’m not sure. “Bless you, Mrs. Mayfield. Coffee is precisely what the doctor ordered.”

She turns around, her eyes crinkling at the sight of me. “Oh, Amelia,” she says sweetly. “It’s been too many summers since you’ve come to visit. Look how you’ve grown. You’re a woman now.”

I blush at her inspection, which causes her to chuckle. “I’m the same age as Sunny,” I remind her.

Sunny Mayfield’s been my best friend since before either of us could walk. The Mayfield family lives in a house across the lake, with Mrs. Mayfield having been the caretaker of my grandparents’ house since my dad was a boy. He became best friends with her son, so when Sunny and I were born just one month apart, we were destined to follow in their footsteps. She’s one of the reasons I always looked forward to spending my summers at the lake. From Memorial Day to Labor Day, we were inseparable, with tearful goodbyes in September. Pen pals throughout the year, we never seemed to skip a beat, even after nine months apart.

At least that’s how we were until the summer of my senior year. Until the accident that took both of my parents’ lives.

I haven’t been back to Crystal Cove since that day nearly four years ago. Instead, I packed up my belongings at the home I shared with my parents, moved in with Grams, and finished out my senior year. Grams wanted me to go to the lake house the summer following graduation, but I couldn’t bring myself to go there. Too many memories. Too