A Stranger in the Cove

by Rachel Brimble

  Inexplicable foreboding continued to bother her as apprehension lingered on the unresolved aspects of her splintered family. “I just don’t want any of this to fall apart for you. You’ve done so much to get to this point.”

  “It won’t.”

  She glanced toward the door again. “Things are better between Ali and me, but we still have a long way to go, Mac. Who’s to say Dana won’t be as happy with all this as you are?”

  “Hey.” He touched his finger to her chin, turning her face to his. “It’s going to be fine. I’ve spoken to Dana and—”

  “Uncle Mac!” The scream of Mac’s five-year-old niece, Lily, sliced through the civil drone of the diners’ voices. “We came to see you again.”

  “Hey, you.” Mac stood and bent down to scoop his niece into a hug. “I swear you’ve grown three inches in the past month.”

  She giggled, and Kate looked at Lily’s mother and brother as Dana and little Mac walked toward their table. Dana’s smile seemed frozen in place, and Kate inhaled against her nerves as she slowly rose and forced a wide smile. “Dana, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Mac’s sister nodded, her shoulders high and her smile strained. “You, too. I hope we’re not late.”

  “Not at all. Come and sit down. Wine?”

  “Wine. Yes. I’d love some.”

  Kate smiled as Dana slid into a seat around the circular table. Kate picked up the wine and filled Dana’s glass, before topping off her own. She held out the glass to Mac’s sister. “Here. Cheers.”

  They clinked glasses as Mac returned to his seat and his niece and nephew ran toward the windows at the far end of the restaurant. Kate drank deep before returning her glass to the table, trembling ever so slightly. She glanced at Mac who carefully watched her, before he turned to Dana. “So, you’re here.”

  Dana blew a breath. “I am. I tried to persuade Mum to come, but she refused. Said it’s best for us to get to know Marian first.”

  “If that’s Mum’s choice, there’s nothing either of us can do about it.” Mac picked up his wine and sipped. “She’ll come around, eventually.”

  “I hope so.” Dana turned to Kate. “How are things going living with my free-spirited brother?”

  Kate laughed and relaxed her shoulders. The gentle teasing in Dana’s eyes bolstered Kate’s confidence that the evening might go well, after all. “Fine. I’ve learned he finds it hard to sit still for five minutes and I’m finding scraps of song lyrics all over the apartment. But, apart from that...”

  “Hey.” Mac frowned. “I am here, you know.”

  They laughed as a shadow fell over the table. Kate looked up, and her stomach flip-flopped. Marian. Her eyes shone with happiness and as she stared at Mac, her growing love for him obvious, Kate’s heart jolted with pleasure to see her dear friend so happy when things could have gone so very wrong.

  Mac immediately stood and wrapped his arms around his grandmother, pulling her tight to his chest. “Hi, Marian.”

  “Hi.” She gently placed her hands on his back. “We’ve been hanging around outside for the last five minutes.”

  Mac drew back. “Why?”

  “Nerves. Something I’m not used to, but they seem to have become my closest friends since this morning.” Marian turned to Dana and held out her hand. “Marian Cohen. And this is my wonderful husband, George. You must be Dana.”

  Dana stood and took Marian’s hand. Kate noticed that Dana’s fingers slightly shook, and she wasn’t the least surprised when Marian held Dana’s hand tightly in both of hers. “It’s so lovely to meet you. And you and Mac look so alike.” She glanced around the restaurant. “Aren’t the children...ah, there they are.”

  Kate looked toward Lily and little Mac as they stood with their noses pressed to the glass, no doubt watching the dark ocean. She cleared her throat. “Why don’t we sit?”

  George held out Marian’s seat, and they all sat.

  Prepared for a few moments of awkward silence, Kate took a deep breath to start a conversation...about anything.

  Marian got there first. “So, Dana, do you work? I’d love to learn more about you.”

  “I did until Lily came along, but now I’m lucky enough that my husband’s job means I can stay home and be a full-time mum. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful.” Marian glanced toward the children once more. “They are two of the bonniest babies I’ve ever seen. So full of life.”

  Mac leaned forward. “Yeah, and mischief.”

  “Is there any other way children should be?” Marian raised an eyebrow at her grandson. “Don’t you think for one minute, Mac Orman, that I don’t know you’re the cool uncle who winds them up as much as possible when you’re with them. I’ve got your card marked just by looking into those eyes of yours.”

  Everyone laughed, and the atmosphere calmed. Kate leaned back in her chair as the conversation flowed and they placed their orders. She stared at the faces around the table and wondered if this was a family that would teach her how things could be. If this was the family that, along with Mac, would make her believe that her goals were relevant and that it was okay that she wasn’t money-driven like her mother and sister.

  That it was okay if she dreamed of marrying, having children and being content to stay at home with them like Dana. She couldn’t think of anything more fulfilling, anything more that would heal the pain of her past and lead to acceptance that she was a good person, a caring person, a person who could be the mother her children deserved.

  The waiter walked away, and everyone but her and Mac rose from the table. She looked up. Had she missed something?

  Disappointment sped her heart, and she faced Mac. “Where are they going?”

  He smiled and nodded toward the windows. “Marian could hardly sit still, she wanted to see the kids so badly. Dana’s taking her over to introduce Marian and George properly.”

  “Oh.” Relieved, she said, “And what does ‘properly’ mean?”

  “Dana just made Marian’s day, week, month and year by saying it was time Lily and little Mac were introduced to their great-grandmother.”

  “Oh, my...” Kate grinned and looked across the restaurant as Marian picked up Lily and George picked up little Mac. “Look at them.”

  “I can’t stop looking at them.”

  Marian and George pointed toward the ocean and beyond as the kids stared at them or followed to where their nana and granddad pointed in the distance. Suddenly, Dana turned, her happiness clear in her bright eyes and flushed cheeks as she put her thumb up to Mac.

  He slid his hand on to Kate’s thigh. “I have something to ask you.”

  “Hmm.” She couldn’t drag her gaze from Marian. The woman had taught her so much. Had shown her so much love and support. She couldn’t think of a better reward for her kindness than having found a new family. “What is it?”

  “Kate?”

  She faced him. “You’ve made Marian the happiest woman alive, do you know that?”

  “I do. The trouble is...” He drew his gaze over her face, let it linger at her lips. “There’s another woman I want to make happy, too.”

  She smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You do.”

  His gaze glazed with concern. “Do I?”

  “Yes.” She cupped his jaw, her heart swelling with love for this once-upon-a-time stranger who’d strolled into town and captured her heart. “Of course.”

  “You can have everything I have, Kate. You can be a part of it, share it, be with me as things change and evolve.”

  “What are you saying?”

  He took her hand, and her heart picked up speed. His expression was so sincere, so hopeful. He looked happier and happier as each second beat with her heart.

  “Mac?”

  “Marry me, Kate.”

  “
What?” Her heart stopped, the music and chatter of the diners dissolving.

  “Marry me.” He grinned. “As soon as possible.”

  “But—”

  “I love you. You love me. Time, Kate. Time is what we waste. Not experiences. Not love. Not loss. Time. I won’t waste any more. Will you?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “What?” The happiness in his eyes snuffed out like a blown candle. “No?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. Right.” His fingers started to slip from hers. “Okay.”

  She tightened her grip and laughed. “No, Mac. I won’t waste any more time. As for marrying you? Yes, yes, yes!”

  He laughed and stood, pulling her from her chair and into his arms, her feet leaving the ground as he hauled her higher. “The lady said yes!”

  The entire restaurant burst into applause, and when Kate shook her head, her gaze met Marian’s. She grinned. Her friend stared at Kate and Mac, her hand pressed to her chest and her tears glinting at her cheeks.

  Kate looked at Mac and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. “You, Mr. Orman, are someone so darn special.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MOONLIGHT OVER SEATTLE by Callie Endicott.

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  Moonlight Over Seattle

  by Callie Endicott

  Prologue

  NICOLE GEORGE TURNED and lifted her arms, pushing up against the beach ball hanging from the boom. She tried to project the same energy she would have if she was actually playing a game in the sand rather than modeling a swimsuit.

  A sense of déjà vu came over her.

  How often had she done this? How often had a photographer’s camera captured her image for a magazine or billboard? A pang hit her at the thought that this was one of her last days as a model. After all, she’d been modeling for thirty years. It was what she knew best.

  Although there were a few tedious moments, inevitable in any career, she enjoyed her work. All the same, for the past six months she’d been turning down contracts and only had a few more commitments left. It was time to get started on the other things she wanted to do in her life. Besides, sooner or later, modeling jobs would become less plentiful and she liked the thought of leaving the business while she was at the top.

  “Rachel, there’s a shine on her collarbone,” Logan called, and Nicole’s friend, Rachel Clarion, stepped forward with a powder puff to dab it away.

  Because she put so much energy into her job, Nicole always perspired when working, even when it was cold. Logan winked and she grinned at him. Another close friend, Logan Kensington was a great fashion photographer—one of the best in the business—and had his own way of keeping things light on the set.

  “So,” he said, “why did the chicken cross the road? Because she wanted to show the possum it could be done,” he answered before Nicole could open her mouth. “Why did the punk rocker cross the road? Because he was stapled to a chicken.”

  Nicole groaned. “Those jokes weren’t funny the first time someone told them, at least two generations ago.”

  “There you go again, suggesting I’m using dated material.”

  “Suggesting? I’m saying it outright.”

  Unfazed, Logan continued shooting. They hoped to finish photographing the summer clothing line that afternoon.

  “It’s time for you, Adam,” Logan called finally. “I want to finish with the romantic shots.”

  Adam Wilding came over, dressed in what the designer hoped would be the hottest men’s swimsuit of the coming year. With dark wavy hair, blue eyes and a firm chin, he looked like a dashing Irish buccaneer...or he would have if not for the swimsuit.

  Trying to hurry, but not look as if they were hurrying, she and Adam posed together in different positions. Rain was predicted and summer wear didn’t advertise well with storm clouds in the background.

  “Okay,” Logan finally called. “That ought to do it.”

  A family had stopped to watch and their adolescent son was staring at Nicole with wide eyes. His sister, on the other hand, seemed entranced by Adam, though she ran over to Nicole after he’d headed for the dressing trailer on the parking lot.

  “Aren’t you Nicole George?” the girl asked.

  Nicole smiled and put on a terry robe. “Yes.”

  “Jeez. I’ve seen your picture, like, a gazillion times. Can I have your autograph?”

  “I’d be happy to sign something for you.” Nicole took the pen and postcard being held out. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Tamara.”

  To Tamara, Nicole wrote on the back. Hope you have an amazing life! Nicole George.

  The teenager stared at the message in delight. “Awesome. Uh, I was, uh, wondering, is it hard to become a model?”

  It was a common question from kids Tamara’s age.

  In the past two years, Nicole and three of her friends had grown interested in becoming talent agents. So she studied Tamara the way she would a prospective client. The girl was pretty, had nice bone structure and her face was surrounded by a cloud of shiny brown hair.

  “Some of being a model happens through persistence, but I’d say quite a bit of it is luck and timing,” she said honestly.

  Being an agent wasn’t going to be easy—there were plenty of pretty girls with good bone structure and high hopes. You had to have the right look, at the right time, with the right people to make it happen. The question was whether she would be the right person to aid clients in reaching their potential. Sometimes she felt nervous about it; she took influencing people’s lives seriously.

  Tamara bit her lip. “How did you start?”

  “I had parents in the fashion industry, which helped. I’ve been modeling since before I can remember.”

  “But do I have a chance? I could diet and color my hair. I could even get my nose fixed or do anything else that’s needed.”

  This was an area in which Nicole had particularly strong opinions, something she planned to act on as an agent.

  “You’re healthy and attractive the way you are,” she answered firmly, but she had a feeling the kid wasn’t listening.

  “I’d do anything to look like you,” Tamara breathed.

  “Don’t turn into a clone of someone else. Be yourself. There’s nothing better than that.”

  “But I bet guys just look at you and fall in love.”

  Sure, Nicole thought to herself, they look at me and fall in love, but they just
want the surface. Through bitter experience she’d learned that too many men saw only the image on the magazine cover...the fantasy. Either that, or they couldn’t handle the notoriety that came from being involved with a supermodel. She’d believed her ex-fiancé, Paulo, was different. Instead, he’d wanted perfection—the ultimate trophy wife. Paulo was a nice person and had loved her in his own way, but that hadn’t been enough for her.

  Adam’s voice intruded. “Nicole, are you coming?”

  “On my way,” she called back. “Bye, Tamara. I hope this helps. Sorry I have to go now, but I’m freezing. Good luck with whatever career you choose.” Turning, she swiftly walked to the dressing trailer.

  She was shivering harder now, despite the terry robe, and it was a relief to put on jeans, a T-shirt and jacket.

  “See you later,” she called to Rachel as she ran to her car. They were all having dinner together and she wanted a hot shower first.

  The warm water felt wonderful after a cold day in skimpy swimsuits and shorts, yet a part of her mind was preoccupied with what Tamara had said, I bet guys just look at you and fall in love. Nicole hadn’t wanted to get into a discussion about the difference between love and lust with a teenager, but it was something she’d learned the hard way.

  It might be different if she’d ever gotten involved with Logan or Adam—they were terrific guys—but they’d remained friends, not lovers. And after multiple broken hearts and betrayals from men more interested in hitching a ride with a well-known face than genuine love, she’d decided friendship was far more satisfying.

  Nicole dressed quickly and in less than an hour, rang Rachel’s bell.

  “Hey,” Rachel greeted her at the door. “Adam and Logan are already here. Hope you’re hungry.”

  “I’m starved. I know you said not to bring anything, but I ordered a super-sized pizza to be delivered.”

  Rachel staggered backward and clasped a hand over her heart. “Pizza? That’s treason.” She laughed.

  “Just call me Benedict Pepperoni.”

  “You never gain weight, anyhow. But what about the healthy glow that fruits and vegetables are supposed to provide? ‘The camera can tell you eat crap,’” she said haughtily, quoting one of the fussier photographers they’d worked with.