Every Step of the Way: (Smugglers Cove #1)

by Anna Lindgren

  “Guess you don’t have me figured out after all,” I tout. I’m quiet for a while as we walk along the boardwalk as it twists along the coast through town.

  “What caused you to leave everything you know and move to Smuggler’s Cove?” he continues to pry.

  “Geeze,” I shout. “I didn’t realize this was a full blown interrogation, officer.” He laughs effortlessly and the easiness about him entices me to answer. “I guess, I got tired of feeling empty. Purposeless.” I breathe heavy at the omission. “I saw my life unfolding before my eyes and didn’t like where it was headed.”

  Jake slows his stride, and I match his without a second thought. He reached for my hand and pulls me against him, his hand resting against my back pulling me flush. Heat spreads throughout my treasonous body sparking at every point of contact. Traitor. My mind seethes but my body presses forward, challenging all rationality. I press harder against him, arching my back to fill the space between us, feeling the hardness of his body beneath the softness of mine, wondering how close to the edge I can go before I fall.

  My eyes linger across his lips slowly trailing the outline of his Roman nose before meeting his eyes. His scent of sea salt and earth invades my senses breaking the spell of my momentary lapse of judgment to one of seethe.

  “What are you––” I begin to scold him but his finger presses firm against my lips.

  “Shh, looks like we have company,” he says pointing about a hundred yards in front of us to a mama black bear and her two cubs. “Let’s go back this way,” Jake says as he grabs my hand and begins walking back the way we came. “We can go down the ramp and walk along the harbor.”

  I follow Jake’s lead, his rough hand encapsulating mine. He doesn’t let go and as much as this feels right, I know it couldn’t possibly be. How could someone like Jake ever see me as equal? I absorb one more moment before shaking my hand free.

  I watch as disappointment passes behind his eyes as he looks toward my free hand swinging alongside me. Before I can interject he shift’s his gaze back toward the ramp leading us down the makeshift docks.

  Silence encompasses us for a moment in time, the creak of the wooden planked dock tossing in the light sway of the ocean.

  “What about you?” My voice shatters the quiet around us.

  “What about me?” He says in a hushed tone, careful not to stir the town.

  I roll my eyes at his incredulity. “What’s your story?”

  “I’m an open book.” He says confidently as we stroll along the water. “What would you like to know?”

  “For an open book, you sure are good at evading questions.” His eyes squint with skepticism before an easy smile breaks out across his lips.

  “I was born and raised here by my parents. I’ve got two brothers and a sister. Just moved back from the east coast––Boston, to be exact–– after my mom got sick.”

  I stumble over my steps at the mention of his mother.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” I breathe deeply before my omission. “I’m not sure what I would do if my mom got sick.”

  He waves me off, the robotic nature of his storytelling reminds me of the way I tell mine. Something about his woundedness, the pain hidden beneath the surface, the vulnerability kept behind his laughter, tells me he’d understand my scars if I’d gain the courage to show him.

  “I guess I identified with your story,” he continues. “Leaving everything you know to move here.” He lifts his hands into the air as if encompassing all the intricacies of Smuggler’s Cove. “Except, for me, this was familiar. For you, it was more of an adventure.”

  My eyes are drawn to his sharp profile, his defined eyebrows drawn low against his darting eyes.

  “I got a job right out of graduate school,” he says. “Met a girl, fell in love, but it didn’t last.”

  “Why not?” Curiosity gets the better of me.

  He shakes his head. “She wasn’t interested in moving back here. She was born and raised in the city. Thinks this lifestyle is beneath her.”

  I nod, taking into consideration all he’s chosen to share. “Would you still be with her if you hadn’t moved back?”

  He tosses a smile in my direction and with a brief hesitation says, “I’m not sure.”

  Engrossed in conversation, I hadn’t realized we’d arrived outside my place. We walk through the gate and Jake follows me to the front porch.

  “Thanks for walking me home.” I turn around and nearly place my lips against his chest due to his closeness.

  He steadies me on my feet while I regain my balance. When I lift my face to thank him once more, I find his brow scrunched low as he scrutinizes every inch of my face.

  “What?” Insecurity overtakes me as I pull away swiping at my face.

  “Nothing, sorry,” He says, shaking his head. “Have a good night, Camille. I’ll be seeing you around.” With that, he descends the stairs and turns to head up the hill. I watch as he disappears into the darkness, wondering what this sensation is that continues to vibrate across my skin at his touch. I rub a hand against my shoulder and pinch.

  “Ow,” I whisper at my attempt to rid myself of the euphoric state I’m in.

  I open the door and close it softly behind me, leaning against it for support while I regain my composure. He’s exactly the kind of man I could see myself falling for. For that matter alone, I have to stay away. I didn’t come here looking for someone special. I came here trying to rid the memory of my last relationship with a man I thought was meaningful.

  The moment he sees how I’m not worth sticking around for is the moment he’ll let me down.

  “Ahem,” Hilary’s throat clears from the couch. “Was that Jake Davis who walked you home?” She raises both eyebrows.

  My cheeks flame with embarrassment. “It was.”

  “And…” she continues to pry.

  “He didn’t think it was safe for me to walk home alone.” I shake my head as I avoid the giddy face of my roommate. “I guess it’s a good thing. We nearly ran into a bear with her two cubs.”

  She smiles with skepticism written across her face. “Mhm.”

  “Don’t mhm me,” I say pointedly. “He’s not my type.”

  She scoffs. “Oh, your type doesn’t include gorgeous men?”

  I grab a pillow and playfully smack her with it. “You know what I mean. I don’t go for guys like him. He seems to know how good-looking he is. So does every person with a vagina.”

  “Oh, there are also men who find Jake to be a god.”

  I sigh. “If he really knew me, Hil,” I turn toward her, tears beginning to well behind my eyes. “He’d just leave like everybody else.”

  Hilary reaches over and grabs my hand in hers. “Not everyone’s your dad, Cammie. Not everyone’s going to let you down.”

  I allow the words to sink beneath the surface. As much as I want to believe the words she says I can’t ignore every experience I’ve endured, instead I shift the subject.

  “What’s up with him and Samantha?” I ask.

  Hilary rolls her eyes and tosses her head back onto the couch. “Samantha has always staked her claim on Jake. She’s been that way since high school.”

  “Did they date?”

  “They dated on and off. Then, Jake went away to school in Baltimore while Samantha stayed in Washington. She found another guy she wanted to screw over. And Jake… Honestly, I don’t think Jake was really that interested to begin with.”

  “So, it’s complicated?”

  Hilary shakes her head. “Not really. I think Samantha would like to think there is more there than there really is.”

  I grew up with people like Samantha. They don’t give up without a fight. If they feel there is any kind of connection or a chance of one evolving, they stay involved, making it difficult for anyone else.

  “He really is a great guy,” Hilary reinforces.

  I smile. “That’s good. Guess it’s a bummer I’m not looking.”

  She rolls her e
yes and pushes herself off the couch. “Alright, I’m off to bed. Early morning again tomorrow.”

  I smile. “Me too.”

  I lie awake in bed, thinking about Jake. How he is different and, for whatever reason, my body seems to respond to him despite my mind urging me not to. I can still feel his hand in mine as he clasped onto it, his body pressed against mine, his large calloused hands steadying me on my feet.

  “I’m insane,” I mutter to myself.

  I press my fingers to my lips as I remember how solid his body felt against mine, how my hands grazed against his biceps as I pushed away from him, the mark of where he touched me craving more.

  I want something, or someone, who lasts. Someone who sees me with every flaw and chooses to stay but my mind knows better. Despite how hard I try, no man is worthy of trusting entirely. I’ve never allowed myself to fully immerse my entire being into another man and ultimately, I’ve pushed them away.

  I pull my phone from the nightstand and look through the last several messages Brandon has sent. He texts on occasion but the messages go unanswered.

  Brandon: I’m sorry love. I never meant to hurt you.

  Brandon: Cammie, please return my calls.

  Brandon: I miss you.

  Brandon: I still love you. Always will.

  Brandon: I fucked up. Please give me another chance.

  I pass my phone between my fingers as I reread the messages over again. I know I could never trust Brandon again but I’m not certain I’m willing to replace the feelings I have for him with something more uncertain. My desire for him runs as deep as a swimming pool. He’s a known entity, he’s the safe choice. After my dad left, my mom was devastated. She had also tried to leave, but in a different way, nonetheless it sent the message that I wasn’t worth sticking around for.

  That kind of love, the intensity of it, terrifies me. I’m not sure I ever want to love someone to the point of no return.

  Me: Sometimes, I miss you too.

  With those words lingering in my mind, I plug my phone in and try to get some sleep, knowing that tomorrow I get to do the same thing over again.

  Five

  Jake

  I arrive to work an hour early to start packing and preparing the boat for another day in the field. Ryan and I are headed out for a fun couple days, surveying streams on the mainland. We will be tent-camping in the field and eating over campfires. It’s the best part of my job.

  I traverse down the slippery dock with my first load of gear, and my eyes lock on the attractive brunette bent over the side of a kayak.

  Cammie.

  A smile grows across my face as she struggles to reach the stern of her kayak to drill what looks to be a fishing pole holder on the back. I place the remaining gear in the boat and then cautiously walk toward her.

  It’s another blustery, rainy day in Smuggler’s Cove, the clouds low along the mountains, making the town feel even more isolated than we are. My feet slide along the dock as I near Cammie, her angelic voice muttering obscenities at the kayak, causing me to stifle a laugh. She’s got a mouth on her, that one.

  I catalogue every detail from her loose ponytail tossed over one shoulder to her raingear stretched around the luscious curves hidden beneath. Her smooth ivory skin glistening in the reflection of the water.

  “You mother fucker,” she swears under her breath.

  I clear my throat in an attempt to disguise my humor. “Can I help with that?”

  She startles, whipping her head around to see me towering over her. She rolls her eyes with a heavy sigh. “It’s being a stubborn son of a bitch, in all honesty.”

  I crouch beside her and grab the drill. It’s difficult for me to reach the stern, and I’m more than a foot taller than Cammie. I stretch my body out next to hers, chest resting against the dock. Cold pierces through my sweatshirt as the waterlogged dock dampens my hoodie. I manage to bolt the pole holder into the kayak, my momentary success quickly replaced by Cammie’s slow dramatic claps. I hop up on my feet and take a dramatic bow.

  “Please,” I wave her off. “It was nothing.”

  She jumps to her feet, pulling the drill from my hand, irritation written across her face between the narrowed eyes and crossed arms. She reluctantly thanks me for the help with a desperate attempt to hid any glimmer of appreciation.

  “It’s the least I could do,” I say before stepping back toward the work boat. As I walk away I can feel her eyes blazing into me in her attempt to figure me out, but she won’t, because the truth is I’m not sure I can figure this out myself.

  I make a few more trips to the car and back while I wait for Ryan. I wanted to get here early to prepare the boat––at least that’s what I told myself. Really, I had hoped I’d run into Cammie.

  I’m often transparent in my pursuit of women, but there’s something about Cammie that tells me if I took a direct approach, she would bolt. The timid look in her eyes, hidden beneath her don’t-mess-with-me attitude reminds me of the wild animals we come across. Like she’s more terrified of me than I would be of her.

  Truth is, I’m being patient while I figure her out, basking in the familiarity of her inconsistency. She’s scared, she’s been hurt before, and she assumes it’s all she’ll ever know. If I push too hard, I’m worried I might lose my only shot at having her.

  “Jake!” Hilary calls from the parking lot, a bright, wide smile on her face.

  “Hey, Hil,” I call back.

  “Need any help?” she asks.

  “I would love some. Mind if I hand you a few things?”

  “Not at all,” she says as she places her arms out for me to fill up with gear. I get the last of the stuff from the work truck and head down to the dock. We load the remaining safety equipment onto the deck as I sort it into the boat.

  “Where are you headed off to?” Hilary asks, and I catch Cammie perking with interest from the other end of the dock.

  “Ryan and I are heading to the mainland for a few days to get some sampling done. We’ll be back Friday afternoon if all goes well.”

  She nods. “Well, be safe. Have you got your satellite phone?”

  I pull the phone from my pocket, waving it in Hilary’s direction. “Got it,” I say with a smile. “I’ll be sure to text you when we get there.”

  “And if anything goes wrong,” she adds, nervously shifting on her feet.

  “Of course,” I grin. “Figured for our safety, we better keep you yakers on call in case of emergencies.”

  She smiles and her anxiety seems to abide. Since her dad passed away, Hilary’s become uneasy about the natural wonders Smuggler’s Cove has to offer. Before I can reassure her once more, the dock begins to shake beneath me.

  A large, gruff man approaches the boat hidden beneath large sunglasses despite the heavy overcast day. I chuckle the moment my brain registers Ryan stumbling toward us looking pale and a little green. The sight of him disheveled is atrocious, the stench of last night’s festivities reeks from his pores.

  “Sup?” I ask as he approaches. He nods but doesn’t respond as he throws his duffle bag into the boat.

  “You alright there, Ry?” Hilary asks, the sound of Cammie’s giggle announces her arrival to the conversation.

  “Looks like you had a fun night,” Cammie says.

  Ryan puts his hand up and inhales deeply through his nose before deliberately exhaling, “stop.” He breathes again. “I’m going to be sick if you remind me of how much I had to drink.”

  We break out in laughter but it’s the sound of Cammie’s laugh that becomes music to my ears. For a moment, time slows and I memorize the sound, the way her eyes crinkle from laughter, the feeling of my heart pounding against my chest.

  I want to reach out and. Interlock my hand in hers, but my brain steadies the urge. If I push too hard too quickly, I’m bound to mess this up. Although I’m uncertain the meaning behind the emotional grip Cammie has on me, one thing is for certain.

  She’s absolutely stunning.


  Consistency, my brain sounds the alarm. What she needs is a reliable, unwavering, presence. I can be that, I could do it, for her.

  I pull myself from my daze before she finds me staring at her. Ryan hops into the back deck and runs through our safety checklist.

  “Be safe,” Cammie says, her voice above a whisper.

  “Of course,” I wink. “Anything to get back home to you, darling.”

  What the hell was that? She rolls her eyes and reverts to her unimpressed glower.

  “Smooth,” Ryan adds as he unties the bow line and jumps aboard. Hilary grabs the stern line while I fire up the motor and begin to coast off the dock. I honk the horn as we drift past Cammie, she waves and I salute her in return. She tilts her head back with laughter and although I can’t hear her, I’ve memorized the sound of it.

  Ryan and I stand beside one another on the back deck, waving like idiots to Hilary and Cammie as if we’re sailors heading out to war not knowing what lies ahead but knowing one thing for certain…

  I’m going to marry that girl one day.

  The thought sends a bolt of shock through my body, causing me to stumble back into the cabin and take over steering. What is wrong with you? One minute we’re playing it cool and the next you’re ready to drop to one knee?

  “I’m going to marry her one day,” Ryan says, staring out toward the disappearing dock. His hand resting against his chest like the love-struck teenager he is.

  “Who?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “Hilary, duh.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief, that makes more sense. He’s had a thing for her since we were kids. I look over toward Ryan to see him peering out the window. I wonder if his mind is exactly where mine was.

  “You alright?” I venture.

  My question seems to snap him back to reality. “Yeah, just thinking.”

  “About…” I pry.

  “About Hilary.” He nods his head.

  “Did you guys ever talk after you spent two weeks at my cabin?”

  He clears his throat. “I mean, we talk.”