A Stranger in the Cove

by Rachel Brimble

  Mac’s heart quickened at the need to know more about the bastard who’d hurt her. “Would that be after this ex-boyfriend?”

  “Maybe.” Dave looked across the bar, his unwillingness to share more as obvious as the nose on his face. He met Mac’s gaze. “Look, I don’t know why you’re in town, and I’m not going to ask, but, to my mind, if you plan on staying a while, you’ll be needing some work. Am I right?”

  Mac frowned, a little of his defensiveness diminishing as it became clear Dave wasn’t going to poke into affairs unless invited. “Possibly.”

  “Then how about we help each other out? I’ve been thinking about having a resident singer in the bar. A soloist. I can’t afford to keep paying a four-or five-piece band on a regular basis. How about you give it a shot? Starting tonight.”

  “A resident singer?” Mac shook his head and smiled wryly, lifting his bottle to his lips. “I don’t plan on hanging around long enough to become a resident anything.”

  He was leaving...just as soon as he’d spoken to Marian Ball, or Cohen, or whatever the hell her name was. Mac sipped his beer. “As much as I can see how people look out for one another around here, I’m a city boy and have every intention of staying that way. I won’t be in the Cove much longer.”

  “Which city?”

  “The best. London.”

  Dave nodded and protruded his bottom lip, his gaze steady on Mac’s.

  Mac frowned. “What?”

  Dave shrugged. “You just don’t seem the type.”

  “What type?”

  “The type who’s happy to live alone in a big, flashy city.” Dave frowned. “Despite the giant chip on your shoulder, and an attitude that could use some serious work, you stepped in at the fund-raiser, and I’ve seen you carrying stuff back and forth for Vanessa.”

  “So?”

  “So, you don’t seem the guy who goes to work, comes home or goes to a bar where no one knows your name. Whether you realize it or not, you like people.”

  “I do, and people in the city aren’t any less friendly than they are here.”

  Mac took a sip of his beer, uneasy that people might have tried to get to know him back home, but since the accident he’d brushed off any indication of friendship. He hadn’t been the solitary type before Jilly died, but he’d imposed a more lonesome way of life on purpose ever since...self-protection was key.

  Shifting on his stool, Mac glanced around the bar. A few guys stood around the pool table, drinks or cues in their hands, ribbing one another. A trio of girls in their late teens hovered by the old-fashioned jukebox, checking out the guys at the pool table. “Look, I’m okay in my own company. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Maybe it is, but I can’t help thinking you’re trying to convince yourself of that, rather than me.”

  Wanting the focus shifted from him to Dave, Mac leaned back on his stool. “How long have you lived here? I’m guessing your whole life, right?”

  “Nope. Vanessa and I moved here about twenty years ago and never looked back.”

  “Twenty years? What are you? Forty-four? Forty-five?”

  “Forty-six.”

  “So you came to Templeton in your mid-twenties with a wife in tow and settled just like that?”

  “Yep.”

  “From where?”

  “Bristol. Best thing I ever did. Vanessa used to come to the Cove on holiday as a kid. Loved the place so much she set her mind on living here when she was grown. If I wanted the girl, I wanted her dreams, too. As soon as she asked me to move to Templeton, I agreed. End of conversation.”

  “You have kids?”

  “Two. Boy and a girl. Paul’s in his last year studying criminology at uni. And hoping there will be a place for him working with DI Garrett right here in the Cove when he’s done.” He smiled. “Jenny’s at drama college with dreams of living in your home city and never leaving the West End.”

  The man’s eyes were lit with a deep pride, his smile wide and his cheeks full of color. It was clear the bar and Dave’s day-to-day existence were a means to an end, nowhere near as important to him as his family. His wife and kids were all that really mattered to him.

  A tug of loss pulled at Mac’s chest, and he quickly picked up his beer and took a long drink. “Yeah, well, I don’t see a family on my horizon anytime soon, so for now the city life suits me just fine.”

  Dave whipped the dish towel from his shoulder and wiped it in circles over the bar. “A family comes in many forms. If you’re a family man deep in your heart, you’ll have your family. It just takes finding the right place to search for them. That’s what comes first. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Right.”

  Mac frowned. “Now what?”

  “Not many people get to your age without falling in love, my friend. That whole broody I-don’t-give-a-crap-about-anything-or-anyone attitude you think you’ve got going on isn’t fooling me, and I’ll bet it’s not fooling Kate either.”

  Mac dropped his gaze, his fingers trembling as he pulled at the label on his beer bottle.

  “So, who did you fall in love with?”

  Mac snatched his gaze to Dave. “What?”

  “What was her name? The girl who stole that black heart of yours.”

  He looked past Dave to the fridges behind him. “Jilly.” He clenched his jaw. “She died.”

  The seconds beat in time with his heart, and Mac tightened his grip around his beer bottle as he waited for whatever Dave said next.

  “Hey.”

  Mac met Dave’s gaze. “What?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Mac nodded. “Thanks.”

  “How long has she been gone?”

  “Three years.”

  “Three years?” Dave shook his head, his gaze steady. “Then that’s long enough, man.”

  “Long enough for what?”

  “Long enough for you to be alone. Long enough for you to stop thinking you’ll always be alone. Now, if you take my advice, you’ll accept my offer of a gig or two, or for however long you’re here. Then you’ll pick up the phone and invite Kate to watch you play tonight. And finally...”

  Mac lifted his eyebrows, disbelief at the guy’s arrogance tensing his shoulders. “Finally?”

  “You’ll determine what’s really stopping you from moving forward. Stopping you from searching for a new woman, a new love, and you’ll damn well do something about it.”

  Mac glared at Dave’s back as the man wandered to another customer at the other end of the bar. Who the hell did the guy think he was? His damned dad? Then again, giving advice about love and taking risks was the last thing Dan Orman would’ve done.

  He closed his eyes, and Kate’s face appeared behind his lids. He’d grown to like her with more speed and depth than he had any of the other women he’d been with since Jilly. He cared about Kate. Cared what she thought and felt...which made it all the harder for him to leave this stupid town without speaking with her first.

  Opening his eyes, he drained his beer and pushed to his feet. Shooting a final glare at Dave’s back, Mac snatched up his phone and stabbed in Kate’s number.

  She picked up almost immediately. “Mac? Look, I’m sor—”

  “Stop.” He massaged his brow. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry for shouting at you...sorry for everything.” He opened his eyes and slid his hand into his hair as he made his way to the stairs leading to the rented rooms. “I’m playing at the Coast tonight. I’d really like it if you came along. We could talk after I’m done.”

  “Talk?”

  He inhaled. “If you still want to speak to me, that is.”

  “Of course I do. I’ll be there by eight. See you then.”

  He released his breath. “See you then.”

  Pulling his keys from his pocket,
Mac opened his door and walked inside. He had a second chance to do something about moving forward.

  Dave was right. It was time Mac got back into the game...back into life.

  Chapter Twelve

  KATE GRIPPED IZZY’S arm and pulled her to a stop outside the Coast. “Wait.”

  “What is it?” her friend frowned. “Have you changed your mind about seeing Mac?”

  “No. We need to go in there. It’s just...”

  “Just what?”

  “I don’t know.” Kate pressed her hand to her stomach to calm her nerves as she looked through the window. “The place is packed, and I can hear him playing.”

  “And? Aren’t we here to see him play? Come on, Kate. I want to meet the guy. Besides...” Izzy tossed her long, blond hair over her shoulders, her gaze dancing with mischief. “If he’s half as good-looking and charming as you say he is, I’ll want him to know he has your best friend looking out for you and he’d better treat you right.”

  “Hmm.”

  Izzy frowned, her shoulders dropping. “What?”

  “The last time Mac and I saw one another, we kind of argued. How do I know he didn’t ask me here to continue that argument? Maybe we should leave. The Coast is not the place I want to be talking with him about Marian.”

  “Look—” Izzy slipped her arm around Kate’s waist “—we’ll get a drink and see what happens. You asked me here to act as a buffer between you, right?”

  Kate shrugged, feeling like a child being taken care of by a grown-up. “Maybe.”

  Izzy squeezed Kate closer. “Maybe nothing. I’m here, and I’ll make sure nothing happens that you don’t want to happen, okay? You like Mac, right?”

  Kate shrugged a second time.

  “Oh, for the love of...” Izzy rolled her eyes and released Kate. “Come on. We’re going in.”

  Kate kept her feet planted on the asphalt as Izzy strode a few paces toward the door. What would happen once they entered the bar was anyone’s guess, and the dread that tensed Kate’s body warned her the outcome wouldn’t be pretty. Or sexy. Or romantic. Or any of the things she’d kept hoping for since she and Mac had parted ways.

  She blew out a breath. “Iz, wait up.”

  Her friend halted and turned.

  Slowly, Kate walked forward and took Izzy’s hand. “Don’t let me do anything stupid.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like telling him how he’s been in and out of my thoughts all damn day. Like the fact I’m less pissed and more pained that he would get so upset with me when I’m starting to like him way too much. That sort of thing.”

  Izzy nodded. “Got it. Now, come on.”

  Izzy dragged her to the door and none-too-gently nudged her inside. Mac’s deep, smooth voice filled the bar, the sound of his acoustic guitar coming in second place to the blatant sex appeal of his husky, heartfelt singing. Kate drew on her invisible armor and strode toward Dave, who stood behind the bar.

  She couldn’t look at Mac. Not yet. It was Friday night, and tomorrow was her day off. Liquid courage in the form of Ms. Sauvignon Blanc was needed...and lots of it.

  Slapping her purse on the bar, she forced a wide smile. “Two glasses of dry white wine when you’re ready, Dave.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “The usual?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Dave nodded and pulled a bottle from one of the fridges, filling two glasses and sliding them on to the bar. “You girls planning to stay all night? Mac’s going over really well.” He nodded toward the stage over Kate’s shoulder. “A real ladies’ man, it seems.”

  Kate huffed a laugh and held out a ten-pound note. “Is that so?”

  “Yep.” Dave took the money, his gray gaze amused. “Why don’t you turn around and see for yourself?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Izzy prodded Kate’s arm. “Good God, woman. You weren’t joking about him, were you? That is one hell of a man. Look at his biceps, for crying out loud. Not to mention that chest.” Izzy gave a low whistle. “He could give my Trent a serious run for his money.”

  Lifting one of the glasses of wine, Kate squeezed her eyes shut. God, give me strength. She opened them. Dave grinned and slipped some coins across the bar. “Your change...scaredy-cat.”

  “Scare...” Kate narrowed her eyes. “I’m not scared of anyone or anything. Including Mac bloody Orman.”

  She dropped the coins into her purse and turned. Her heart stumbled. He wore faded blue jeans that had a stupid rip across one thigh, paired with a white T-shirt that seemed to scream for mercy it was so tightly stretched over his damn pecs and flat stomach. Kate consciously breathed in. “Tattoos.”

  “What?” Izzy turned and picked up her wineglass, jigging in time with Mac’s singing. “Tat what?”

  Kate snatched her glare to Izzy. “Tattoos. Tattoos.”

  Izzy grinned as she wiggled her eyebrows. “I know. I can see them.” She sipped her drink and tilted her head in Mac’s direction. “Why don’t we get closer? Let him know we’re here?”

  Kate stilled as her gaze locked with Mac’s. “Too late. He knows.”

  As Izzy turned to the stage, Kate took a long breath and slowly released it. She wouldn’t look away, no matter that her entire body had heated in one fiery rush as soon as the man glanced in her direction. She swallowed and lifted her glass in greeting.

  He accompanied a wink with a flash of his white-toothed, curled-lip, stupidly sexy smile. Her center pulled, and she snapped her gaze to Izzy. “The man is full of himself.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s clearly in his element and very talented.” She bopped on the spot. “I think he’s great. Really great...and handsome as hell.”

  Kate gripped Izzy’s arm and scowled. “Will you stop dancing around? We’re not here to enjoy ourselves, remember?”

  “Why are we here then? Because you seem to be doing a whole lot of nothing. Let’s grab a table near the stage. That way once he’s finished his set, he’s either got to walk straight past us or join us.”

  “I’m not ready.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...”

  Izzy’s gaze instantly turned triumphant. “Because deep down you know getting involved with Mac’s mission here is not a good idea. Because deep down you know that sooner or later Marian is going to find out you knew her grandson was here and you never said a word to her. Don’t you think you are all too aware that you don’t really know the guy and he could be playing you?”

  “Fine. You’re right.” Izzy glared. “I don’t know him. He could be another Dean. He could be a man intent on upsetting Marian. God damn it...” She glanced toward the stage as Mac moved into his next song. “He could have every intention of moving forward without me, and he has every right to do so.”

  “Hey.” Izzy’s eyes filled with concern, and she put her glass on the bar before taking Kate’s hand. “Are you trying not to cry?”

  “Of course not.” Kate blinked, hating the tightness in her chest, which proved how badly she wanted to be involved with Mac’s quest...with Mac. “He’s gotten to me, Iz. I care about him. I care about his connection to Marian. Worse, I fancy him so damn much, and that’s making me want to help heal all the pain he’s carrying around like a boulder on his broad shoulders. How can I be sure I’m not going to get hurt again? He’s a stranger. One who’s going to up and leave the Cove, possibly in a matter of days.”

  “Okay. Come on.”

  Kate stiffened. “What? Where are we going?”

  “We’re getting out of here. If you really like him, he can meet you halfway. On your terms.” Izzy released her hand and took a hefty gulp of wine before setting the half-empty glass on the bar. “Not like this. Not when he looks so comfortable up there. It’s not a fair playing field. If he wants to speak with you...or more...he can see you somewhere nice a
nd neutral.”

  “Like where?” Kate took a sip of wine, warming to her friend’s thinking. “Somewhere like a restaurant? A date?”

  Izzy smiled. “At last. The girl starts to see how men need a little coaching sometimes. Coaching in the form of meeting us halfway.”

  Kate took another sip of her drink and glanced toward the stage. Once again, Mac’s gaze locked on hers...but this time it was her who tipped him a wink.

  And then, arm in arm, she and Izzy left the bar.

  * * *

  MAC WALKED UPSTAIRS to his room. Slowly closing the door behind him, he leaned his guitar against the wall.

  Kate had left over an hour ago, just walked out without speaking with him. God only knew how he’d managed to get through his second set without abandoning the packed bar and chasing after her. His mouth had dried just looking at her. She was so damn beautiful in skinny white jeans, a black top and blazer. The looks she’d sent him and the way she clearly grappled over something with her friend didn’t bode well for his eventual talk with Marian—or even how Kate felt about him.

  He dropped backward on to the bed and closed his eyes.

  It was around ten and still early enough to call her, but what could he say? His confusion over meeting Marian, and realizing what a vibrant person she was, had somewhat cooled, and now he felt like a class-A idiot for the way he’d spoken to Kate. He needed to make amends, but how was he to do that if she didn’t want to speak to him?

  He had to call her.

  Taking a deep breath, he reached for his phone on the bedside cabinet and scrolled through, then dialed her number.

  She picked up. “Hello, Mac.”

  He winced at the stiffness in her voice, his heart thumping “How are you doing?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Good.” He smiled, trying to keep his tone light. “Was my playing so bad that you and your friend had to leave?”

  “Not at all. You play well. You sing even better.”