Page 36 of He's The Reason Why

Swear?

Pinky swear.

The next morning, Piper pulled up to a gate connected to a twelve-foot-high white stucco wall that surrounded an entire block near Runyon Canyon. A shiny gold plate declared that the property was on the National Register of Historic Places, but she couldn’t read the fine print without getting out of the car.

She double-checked the address.

She was at the right place.

Surely, Blake wasn’t old enough to warrant historic treatment. He was barely thirty.

She peered up, trying to get a look at the house behind the high wall, but all she could see through the ornate iron slats of the gate was part of the driveway as it curved behind a thick crop of trees. It was an inviting glimpse of luxury and stately elegance, but the fence said get lost in a polite, regal sort of way.

A small cottage with a red tile roof and stone walls that matched the fencing stood next to the gate. She rolled up to it.

A dark-haired man with full-sleeve tattoos wearing a black T-shirt that stretched across biceps formed from hours lifting heavy things peered through the window at her. There was a speaker box just underneath the window. It wasn’t a guard shack; it was more like a sentry outpost.

Piper wiggled her fingers at him. “Hi. I’m here to see Blake.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Piper Bellamy?”

She flashed him her patented fan-friendly smile. “That’s me.”

“Well I’ll be damned.ThePiper Bellamy, right here in our driveway. He said you might show, but I didn’t believe him. My name’s Lee. My daughter’s a huge fan.”

“That’s so sweet. Thank you, Lee, and tell your daughter I said thanks for listening and she totally rocks.”

“I’ll do that. She’ll be thrilled.” Lee tapped something, and the gate began to move aside. “You’re on the list, Ms. Bellamy. Go right on through.”

“I am?”

He winked at her and waved her on.

She was on Blake’s entry list.

She wasn’t sure what to make of that. She hadn’t put Blake onherlist. If he showed up at her place without an invitation, she wasn’t sure what Romi would do. The woman was suspicious about everyone except Lizzie and Mattie.

The driveway ended in a circle at the bottom of a set of red stone steps that led up a steep incline to what looked like the adult version of the guard house after it had eaten a ton of steroids and mutated to the size of Rhode Island. The Spanish mission-style mansion gleamed up there in the morning sun like something out of a fairy tale.

The steps looked intimidating. She glanced at the gift basket currently filling the entire front passenger seat and sighed. She hadn’t realized she’d be hauling it up a mountain.

It seemed fitting, somehow, like some sort of penance for her bad behavior.

She got out and wrestled the giant basket into her arms. She kicked the car door closed. She couldn’t see a damn thing and had to peer through the stalks of eucalyptus like a koala.

By the fifth step, she was already winded. It wasn’t the climb, it was holding what felt like fifty pounds at such an odd angle and having to inch her way up. Damn her genetics for making her so short. If she were Della’s height, she wouldn’t be having such a hard time.

Just when she thought she might have to abandon the basketin order to save herself from a spectacular fall, strong hands took it from her.

Blake hoisted her gift easily to one side and gave her an appraising look. “Was there a funeral?”

His voice sounded a lot better this morning. Relief made her jittery, or maybe it was just the climb.

“Thanks. That was heavier than I thought it was, and these steps are…wow. Your house is huge.”

His lips twitched. “Thanks.”

A hot flush burned her cheeks. “Going to invite me in, or should I just go?”

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