Beholden: A Small-Town Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 1)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  My shoulders slumped as I turned the corner to where I’d parked my truck. Eli had gone over to Covington Security this morning to talk with both Ace and Dex while I ran errands and stopped in to see Diane. I was supposed to meet Eli back at the house before heading to Rock Beach to see Jules.

  Tucking my phone back in my purse, I looked up and skidded on the sandy pavement to a halt, my heart crashing into the front of my chest.

  “Miss Ocean.”

  The well-dressed weasel stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone else on the street pulsed with energy but this man felt like a vacuum, with his black suit, black eyes, and black soul that, if I wasn’t careful, would suck the life right out of me.

  “We didn’t get to finish our conversation yesterday.” His large arms crossed over his chest like I was a child to be scolded.

  My spine stiffened and my eyes darted around, my pulse thumping heavily when I realized we were alone and he was too close for me to feel confident I could simply turn and walk away without being grabbed.

  “I think I said everything I needed to say,” I replied, holding his gaze steady and grasping on to the show of fortitude. “I’m keeping the business and staying in town, so Roasters isn’t for sale.”

  I should’ve stopped there. Kept my mouth shut. Kept my hurt and rage bottled inside.

  But I couldn’t. Not when this man had preyed on my grief and fear to try and buy a business he’d tried to destroy—from an old man whose heart didn’t need any more harassment.

  “And even if it was, I wouldn’t sell it to the likes of you,” I seethed, anger racing through my blood. “I know what you did,” I spat. “I know how you treated my grandfather.”

  If a face could embody the concept of malice, it was his the second he heard I was no longer interested in selling.

  He stepped closer, reaching out and gripping my upper arm painfully before I could even think about moving back.

  What had I done?

  My breath grew unsteady, ready to scream. But not yet. If there was some way… any way… I could goad information from this scumbag—anything that could help Ace and his guys figure out what Blackman wanted with my coffee shop, I would do it.

  For Roasters. For my grandfather. For me.

  “Miss Ocean.” The cool edge to his voice sharpened to the blade of a knife. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through? I hate to bring up such an unfortunate topic, but your family doesn’t have a good history with this town.” He paused. “Surviving it, I mean. If you stay, there is nowhere you can go that will be safe.” My heart stopped on a dime, lurching the rest of the air from my lungs. Was he threatening me? “From their ghosts, of course.”

  Of course, my ass.

  He was threatening me. Ignoring my accusations and threatening me in broad daylight.

  This man was more dangerous and determined than I realized. And there had to be far more in his sights than a small family business.

  “I think I’ll be just fine,” I assured him, notching up my chin and yanking my arm from his grasp.

  He chuckled, and I refused to let him see how it frightened me.

  “Oh, Miss Ocean.” Goosebumps covered my skin at the venom in his voice. “I’m going to let you think on your decision for one more night, and I hope to get a call from you tomorrow telling me you’ve changed your mind. If not, I can’t guarantee who else you might lose from your choice.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach like a steel anchor.

  He wasn’t just threatening me.

  He stepped back and tucked one hand into his pocket, making sure I could see the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. My throat constricted and, in the next blink, he brushed by me and disappeared on to the street.

  Ice-cold dread pumped through my veins, making my movements slow and clumsy.

  He threatened me.

  He could have killed me.

  He was going to kill someone if I didn’t sell.

  And all for a coffee shop…

  It didn’t make any sense. Sure, the property was valuable, and the business, I was sure, could be successful again, but was it worth this? Threats of murder?

  I rubbed the sides of my arms to help warm my body that felt incurably cold, the threat of loss seeping in around me like an ice bath of frigid fear.

  Who would he take?

  Eli? Mick? Jules?

  Who would he hurt?

  Diane? Eve? Josie?

  My lips parted, realizing just how many names… how many people… and how much love had filled my hollow heart.

  I had so many things to lose, because I had so many people I loved.

  I needed to get out of here. I needed to feel safe. I couldn’t even bring myself to get out my phone. My emotions were frayed down to a single thread—a single necessity of thought to get back home as fast as I could.

  Back to Eli.

  Miraculously, my feet carried me to the truck.

  I blinked and I was passing the edge of town, the quaint buildings dwindling into the famous cliffside landscape.

  He was going to hurt them if I didn’t give him Roasters.

  I turned on the windshield wipers only to realize it wasn’t raining, my vision was only blurred from tears.

  “Think, Laurel,” I chided harshly. “Focus.”

  Through the million-mile-per-hour thoughts, I focused in on one. There was no choice. No option.

  I had to give him what he wanted.

  I’d planned on selling Roasters a few weeks ago anyway, what really could’ve changed?

  I gulped. Everything.

  I’d tried so hard to not let anyone in. So hard to keep my walls up against an ocean of love I thought would drown me. But I’d been so focused, I’d missed a simple truth.

  Love was never lost. It was transformed.

  Like water evaporates off the ocean, picked up by clouds and held until the weight was too much, my pap’s love had been separated from him, pulled from the sea into the clouds, into the community, and showered back down on me through them.

  Through Diane and Josie, Eve and Mick. Through Eli.

  I’d fought against the ocean, all the while being drenched by the rain.

  They had fought for me. This whole time, they’d helped me, they’d grieved with me, they’d given me space and dealt with my sorrow; this whole time they’d loved me.

  And if sacrificing a building was what it took to protect them, then I’d do it. Because Roasters was never about the building.

  I opened the window, needing some air, and a cool, salty breeze blew right in and filled the truck’s cabin.

  “You were the one who taught me about our legacy,” I said to the truck like it was my pap. Or maybe it was the ocean air that prompted me, because if there was anything that could carry the message to him it was that.

  “I understood it then, but I feel it now. I feel the love you built in this town, the love that stayed in this place and in the people even after you were gone.” I shuddered as another gust wrapped around me, encouraging me. “I want you to know that I feel the love you left for me. That even though you’re gone, your love for me isn’t.”

  Wiping the string of tears from my face, I let out a small whimper that turned into a cry when the truck jerked and began making a loud rattling noise. Plumes of smoke leaked from the seams in the hood and the dash lit up like a Christmas tree just before everything began to fail.

  Now?

  Steering to the side of the road, I threw the truck in park and climbed out of it before something exploded.

  Gulping in air, I stared at the smoking truck in disbelief.

  Why?

  Why now?

  I flattened my palm on the driver’s window and tried to steady my heart.

  “I was going to stay,” I whispered, as though my pap could hear me. “I was going to stay, Pap.” Breaths heaved into my lungs like they were shoveling water from a sinking ship. “And now, someone’s going to be hurt because of it.” I tipped my head back
to look up at the sky. “What do I do?”

  I was greeted with a cold splattering raindrop on the tip of my nose.

  Fumbling in my pocket, I pulled out my phone and dialed the one man who was always there.

  “Hey, sweetheart. I’m five minutes out.” His voice always made me feel safe even when I had every reason not to be.

  “Eli.” My voice faltered.

  “What’s wrong?” He knew immediately.

  “The truck broke down.”

  He swore. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

  “About five miles up from the driveway on the highway,” I murmured.

  He grunted. “I’ll be there in two minutes. Don’t stand by the road. Better yet, just wait inside the truck. The tourists drive like assholes.”

  I didn’t even have a chance to reply before he hung up.

  Folding my arms, I shuffled to the back of the truck, putting down the gate and climbing to sit on it.

  “What do I do?” I repeated to myself.

  ‘Just because someone is strong, Laurel, doesn’t mean they don’t need someone to lean on once in a while.’ His words always came back to me. A different form, but still there. Always there.

  I looked up, hearing tires crunch over the gravel as Eli pulled up behind me. His truck was barely in park before he was stalking over to me, his jeans and tee clinging to every determined step.

  “It would have been safer to wait in the truck,” he grumbled, stopping in front of me and cupping my face. “What’s wrong? It’s just a truck, Laurel. Probably just overheated. I can fix it for you—”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “You don’t want it fixed?” His brow creased.

  “No, Eli,” I whimpered and explained softly, “It’s Blackman.”

  I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut, afraid if I opened them, I’d see him again. But even with them closed, I wasn’t spared the image of that bald head and narrow, snake-like slits for eyes.

  “What?” His body went rigid. “Where? Here? I swear to God, I’ll fucking—”

  “No.” My palm reached for his chest, finding the steady thump of his heart. “In town.” I swallowed through the tightness in my throat.

  With a string of curses, Eli looked around before wrapping an arm around my shoulder and hooking one underneath my legs, hoisting me into his arms. “I’m taking you home.”

  “I’m fine, Eli,” I protested, weakly. “I can walk.”

  “I know you can,” he grunted. “But you shouldn’t right now.”

  I relaxed against the strong shelter of his chest, breathing deep of his familiar spice, unable to stop my small sigh of relief or the way my body began to warm against him, feeling safe.

  Curled into the front seat, Eli quickly called a tow for my pap’s truck before pulling back out onto the road. His free hand stayed locked with mine the whole time.

  “What happened?” he asked, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. “What did he say?”

  “I told him I had nothing more to say—that I was staying and Roasters wasn’t for sale,” I began hollowly. “And I told him even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t sell to him after what he did.”

  Eli’s nostrils flared.

  “He threatened me, Eli.” I swallowed down the rise of bile in my throat. “He grabbed me and told me he expected me to change my mind. He told me he expected me to call him tomorrow.” A small cry slipped out. “He told me it would be a shame to lose someone else I care about because of my decision to stay.”

  The truck picked up speed and I was surprised the steering wheel didn’t snap straight off the column.

  “I knew it. I fucking knew it,” he growled as the truck sped toward the house. “I knew that fucker was responsible for the break-in. I knew him approaching you wasn’t a coincidence.”

  I drew an unsteady breath, knowing there was one more thing he needed to know. “And when he went to leave, he made sure I saw his gun.”

  The string of curses that flew from Eli’s lips would’ve shocked the devil himself.

  “I don’t understand what is so valuable. What is worth threatening me for…” I murmured, still in disbelief that I was using the word ‘threaten’ in reference to myself.

  “I’m going to take care of this.” He glanced at me as he turned down the driveway. “I’m going to fix this, Laurel.”

  When he shut the engine off, I told him hollowly, “No. I’m going to fix this. I’m going to give him what he wants.”

  He glared at me before hopping down and rounding to my side of the truck, yanking open the door.

  “No, you’re not,” he bit out. “You’re not going to give that fucker anything.”

  I slid down from the seat. “Yes, I am,” I insisted. I had no choice.

  “Dammit, Laurel.” His arms caged me in, but I refused to back down. “No, you’re not. We’re going to figure this out—we’re going to figure him out.”

  I pushed against his chest, anger and fear ripping me apart inside.

  “No! We don’t have time,” I insisted again, raggedly. “There is no time. There’s only one choice.”

  “There is always—”

  “Don’t you see, Eli?” I begged him. “I don’t have a choice and he knows it. I can’t—” I gasped in air, the invisible belt around my chest cinching tighter with each inhale. “I can’t risk it.”

  Tears blurred my vision and the prospect of loss made me weak. I didn’t want to be weak, but I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t help it.

  Love without vulnerability is only frivolity.

  And through the murkiness, I saw Eli reaching for me.

  Always there.

  My head shook in denial. “I can’t risk any more. I won’t risk losing someone else, Eli.”

  Warm fingers cupped my cheeks, “I won’t let him hurt you or anyone—”

  “And what about you?” My fist pounded into his chest, but his big body didn’t budge under the assault. “Who’s going to stop him from hurting you?” I demanded wildly. My head shook and tears slickened my cheeks, forcing him to let go.

  “Laurel—”

  “No, Eli,” I cried frantically, gasping in air. “I can’t lose you.”

  “You won’t—”

  “I won’t risk it,” I broke in feverishly, the last of my walls crumbling. “I can’t lose you, Eli. I can’t lose another person I love.”

  I gasped and clapped a hand over my mouth.

  No.

  No, no, no.

  I tried to force the word into my heart, but it steadily beat back with a single, sentencing word.

  Yes.

  And even in this, in what felt like the most vulnerable moment of my life, when I could feel nothing but hurt and grief and pain and regret, I realized a truth I’d fought to disprove. I didn’t just realize it, I knew it. I knew it like I knew the sun would set on this horizon and that the waves would always crash against the cliffs. I knew it like I knew my lungs would continue to breathe and my heart would continue to beat.

  I wasn’t supposed to love him, but I did. I’d fallen in love with Eli.

  I’d started falling from the moment he cared for me that first night, bringing me home safe, making sure I was alright… even when I vomited all over him. Twice.

  I’d fallen in love with the way he came to my side, no questions asked, when I needed him.

  I’d fallen in love with the way he took care of my family’s business, of the people in this town, and of me with every fiber of his being.

  I’d fallen in love with the fireworks that erupted every time he kissed me or the way his touch melted every inch of my body. And I’d fallen in love with the way he held me, like nothing bad could happen to something that felt so right.

  I’d fallen for the man who’d kindly, carefully, and consistently shown me over the past several weeks that it was safe to let love in… that love was worth the risk.

  And the fight against this feeling had been lost a long time ago and denial was as
flimsy a shield over the truth as tissue paper to blot out the sun.

  He waited those few seconds in stunned silence before closing the space between us and replacing his hands on my cheeks, tipping my gaze to his.

  “Laurel,” he rasped, the rain beginning to drop with consistent beats now.

  It was the wrong time. The wrong moment to admit to loving someone. I knew it. But I couldn’t stop it.

  When loss threatened everything around me, I couldn’t hold back letting him know how much I love him.

  That was the risk I wasn’t willing to take.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—” He silenced me with his mouth, punishing my lips with his long, demanding kiss. His tongue wiped away any trace of my apology and left only my confession.

  “I told you, sweetheart, don’t ever apologize for giving me pieces of you,” he growled. “Especially when that piece is your heart… your love.”

  My eyes widened as I looked at him.

  “I love you, Laurel.” His gaze bored into mine, safe and sure. “I love you so damn much, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  My heart hammered in my chest, warmth bleeding into my veins and melting through the fear that left them frozen.

  I looked up to the man who would always be there for me, not to fix me, not to heal me, but to give me the love and support knowing I could do those things for myself. He would stand by me and be one of my strengths without demanding to be all of them. He would be there for me to lean on and he would be behind me when I needed to stand on my own. He would be there just like he was right now, loving me strongly and silently, so that no matter when I looked to him—at my highest or my lowest—I would know he was with me. And that I was loved.

  “I promised you I wouldn’t let you lose anything else the first night we met—right here, and you can be damn sure I’m not the kind of man who breaks my promises. We clear?” he demanded roughly, his promise sending a spiral of heat straight down to my stomach.

  I nodded and melted against him, the weight and walls around my heart disintegrating. There was still concern for what was going to happen, but the fear that destroyed pieces of my soul, that convinced me the only safe life was the one lived alone, was no match for this man—and for how I felt about him.