Nick’s eyes flew open. He slid out of bed and hit the floor running to the bathroom just in time to throw up. Afterwards, he went to the fridge, took out a bottle of water and leaned on the counter for support. He downed the water in one long, continuous gulp. He made his way back to the bed. But he took one look at the crumpled sheets, and couldn’t make himself crawl back under the covers. He decided to get dressed.
Outside the night breeze felt cool on his skin. He looked up at the star-filled sky and let the fresh air clear his head. By now he didn’t need a flashlight to find the trail down to the cove in the dark, but rather relied on moonlight to guide his way. He headed out past the side of the garage and followed the rocky slope gently angling downward. He made his way past the fragrant rosemary in bloom and savored the smell of the wild ginger ground cover. The smell of pine mixed with the salty sea invigorated him so that by the time he reached the beach, his stomach had stopped churning. He wasn’t surprised to see Jordan sitting on the same rock as before and dropped down next to her.
“Come here often.”
Despite her melancholy mood, she laughed. “Now there’s a line I haven’t heard in some time. I’d think with your background, you’d be more original.”
“I’m a little rusty on my pickup lines.”
“That’s too bad. How’d it go in town? Have fun?”
“I think the bar scene has finally passed me by.” At least in this town, he thought.
“We all get there eventually.”
“It might have run its course.”
“Things change, remember?”
She was throwing his words back at him. “You’re right. Can I ask you something? I don’t mean to make you sad or anything, but…there’s something I’d like to know.”
Even in the moonlight he saw her eyes flicker with caution. But he had to ask. “Why do you suppose...your husband, Scott, felt so warm and fuzzy about Pelican Pointe?”
Surprised, at the question, she thought for a moment. “Scott’s parents died in a car accident when he was five. He came here just a little boy to live with his father’s parents. Scott used to say it was like having two sets of parents, two sets of memories, those when he was very young, very small, then those that came with this place. When we first met, he’d tell me such warmhearted stories about this town. Every story made it seem like he was homesick, and couldn’t wait to get back here. He made the place sound like paradise. His stories convinced me it must be the greatest little town in the state of California.” She laughed and shook her head. “He certainly sold me.”
Nick could relate. Scott had done the same thing with him. That’s why he had to ask. “Do you think he might have built it up in his mind like something he wanted it to be, but wasn’t, an idyllic place that never actually existed?”
Jordan didn’t have to think long. “Could be. Scott was overly optimistic…about everything. He might have romanticized the town a bit, exaggerated even. He had such high hopes for us here. But as you’ve seen, the people haven’t exactly lived up to the picture Scott painted.”
Nick couldn’t have agreed more, wanted to say a big amen to that. Was now the time to tell her he’d known Scott? The thought nagged at him as he ran a tentative hand over his queasy belly. His nerves spiked. After the kind of night he’d had up to this point, the last thing he wanted to talk about was that day.
“Why do you ask?”
“This town could use a swift kick in the ass.”
“Uh-oh. I take it your night on the town wasn’t the night you thought it would be.”
He had no intentions of letting her find out the ugly things they’d voiced about both of them in the bar. It galled him all over again just thinking about it. “You’ve made several comments about how Scott felt about this place. It doesn’t jive with the way these people act, look at Taggert.” He remembered how Ferguson had acted at the hardware store. And Sissy. And every one of those pool players.
“It doesn’t, no. But Scott had a history here. Maybe it was different for him back then growing up here.”
Nick didn’t believe that for a minute, but let it go. “Maybe.” Then smoothly he changed the subject. Noticing what she was holding in her hand, he asked, “Does that baby monitor really work all the way out here?”
“You bet. It’s long range. You want to test it out?” She laughed at the look on his face.
“Could we?”
“Sure.” She handed him the monitor. “I’ll head back to the house, when you hear me on the two-way, push this button.” She showed him what she was talking about and then got up off the rock.
It occurred to him that she was merely humoring him. “You think I’m nuts.”
She laughed again. “I think you’re curious. You’ve never been around a baby before and the old saying kicks in, seeing is believing. I was that way right after she was born, I couldn’t believe she was mine, couldn’t leave her alone for five minutes without making sure she was breathing. But trust me the monitor works just fine from this distance.”
“I found bicycles in the garage.”
What that had to do with the baby monitor, Jordan could only wonder. “Okay. You want to use one, go ahead. That’s why they’re out there.”
He suddenly realized he might sound ridiculous. But he’d already opened the door. “Maybe we could all go for a bike ride.” As if thinking out loud, he suddenly thought of something. “Don’t they have some kind of a baby seat that attaches to a bike? I’ve seen bikes with a baby on board in the park before.” And he never in a million years would have thought he’d be interested in carting around a baby on a bicycle.
Unbelievably moved that he would think of such a thing, Jordan saw the seriousness on his face and wondered why he was trying so hard. “Yeah, they do.”
Pleased with the knowledge, as he walked her back up the trail, he said, “I’ll see if Ferguson’s has one next time I go into town.”
Chapter Nine
The next day, Nick was standing in the bathtub installing a new shower head when Jordan walked in, all smiles, carrying Hutton. “I ran out of Delicious Melon.”
He slowly turned to stare at her as if she’d grown horns since breakfast. “Excuse me.”
“Delicious Melon, the paint color for the corner room with the bay window. I need another gallon. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be gone for half an hour.”
An alarm went off. After last night’s altercation at McCready’s, it was bound to be all over town what had happened. And then there was Ferguson himself. How could he be sure he wouldn’t hassle Jordan about her account. The urge to protect her from any more of Pelican Point’s stings had him offering, “The paint’s at Ferguson’s, right? How about if I go? Check on the baby carrier thing for the bike we were talking about.”
“No, that’s okay. You’re in the middle of something. I’ll look for the baby seat while I’m there. Anything else?”
Resigned to his fate, he suggested, “You might check the amount of paint colors we have on hand for the other rooms.” He couldn’t think of any other reason to stop her from heading into the miserable excuse for a town. So he did his best to act as if nothing were amiss when he lamely added, “Make sure we have enough of each color to finish the job.”
“Good idea. You know, I was thinking about that theme idea for each room. We should name them, the rooms I mean. Some B & B’s do that. Think about it, if each room had a name, it’d be easier to keep them straight when the reservations are booked, each room could be booked by its designated name.”
“Good idea, but naming the rooms after fruit might not work.”
Jordan looked puzzled. “Fruit?
“Delicious Melon?”
She laughed. “Oh. The Melon Room, The Peach Room. That’s kind of cute, I like that. It could work.”
“Jordan, I was joking. How about an ocean theme instead? The B & B by the ocean offers rooms like The Shell Room, or The Sea Horse Room.”
“Oh. I like that e
ven better. The Sand Dollar Room. That’s an idea.” She sent him a wide smile and turned to leave for town in a good mood.
But the moment Jordan stepped inside Ferguson’s with Hutton on her hip, her good mood vanished. Several customers took the time to turn their way and stare at her and the baby—noticeably, even more so than usual. By the time she reached the paint counter, she felt like the butt of some inside joke. A few more heads turned, a few more customers leaned over and whispered to each other. Feeling more than a little put off, she tried to convince herself she was simply overreacting, but to what she wasn’t sure. The minute the clerk behind the counter finished what he’d been doing and turned to wait on another customer, which was Jordan, he too gave her a leering look. It was that look that said it all. Something was definitely off kilter.
“I need another gallon of Delicious Melon and a gallon of Butternut.”
“Right away, Mrs. Phillips. It’ll take me about fifteen minutes to mix up the color. You go ahead and shop. Come back in fifteen and I’ll have it ready.”
Etta Mae Searcy, a white-haired woman in her seventies, had been looking at wallpaper minding her own business, but moved closer when she overheard the brief exchange. “You don’t want to make her wait and get her mad, Gerald. That Nick fellow might come in and punch your lights out.”
Appalled, Jordan turned to face Etta Mae. “Why would you say such a thing? Nick would never do that.”
Etta Mae snorted, ignoring her loyalty. “Your Nick sure packs a wallop just ask Sal Turley.” She leaned over closer to Jordan. “Your Nick knocked him out cold last night at McCready’s. Sal had to go over to Doc’s and get his head checked out. Flynn didn’t even get a chance to call Ethan out before it was done and over with.”
So this was what Nick had meant last night about the town needing an ass-kicking. And he’d already thrown the first punch. Good lord, if Flynn had called Ethan Cody she might have had to bail Nick out of jail last night. The whole town had to be talking it to death. That fact alone humiliated her. Before she did a little ass-kicking of her own, she needed to get more facts. “Let me understand this, Nick…got into a fight…last night…and hit Sal Turley.”
Etta Mae snickered. “Wasn’t much of a fight from what I heard. Your Nick laid him out stone cold with one punch is what he did. Then made some kind of a speech, told everyone at the bar the two of you wasn’t doin’ nothin’ out there at The Cove.”
“What?” Jordan saw stars. She settled Hutton on the counter to get her balance, rubbed a hand to her temple, and wondered if this could get any worse. But then, scooping up Hutton, she hurried out, telling the clerk over her shoulder, “I’ll be back for that paint. You just have it ready.”
At a fast clip, Jordan walked into the grocery store looking for Murphy, but it was Velma Spears who manned the only open checkout. She walked past Velma and several customers, down every aisle looking for Murphy. With every turn, there was another customer who stopped in the middle of their shopping long enough to stare at her. She finally found Murphy stocking canned goods on the back aisle and tapped him on the shoulder. “I need to talk to you. Could we go into your office?”
She was pissed, Murphy noticed. He nodded and tagged along behind her.
Once inside the tiny office, Jordan dropped into a chair, settling Hutton on her lap and wasted no time getting to the point. “I want the truth about what happened last night at McCready’s? Did Nick get into a fight?”
“It wasn’t really a fight, more like stopping a rumor before it got started. If you ask me, Turley got what he deserved. He threw the first punch, Nick just defended himself.”
“What was said? What started it?”
“Nick did the gentlemanly thing and defended your honor.”
Fresh humiliation crept up her throat and stayed there. “Oh, for God’s sakes.”
With Jordan in town, it was the perfect time to make the call. Sitting on the sofa, cell phone in hand, papers spread out in front of him on the coffee table, Nick leaned back, got comfortable. “You could say I’m calling in a favor, Charlie. We go back a long way. You guys hold the note on the Phillips Property, fifteen acres in Santa Cruz County that includes The Cove B & B. I need at least ninety days more, the end of August would be ideal. More if you can override the loan committee. That would give her time to get all the summer tourists in here. Time to get a healthy cash flow going. Time for her to get on her feet.”
“Damn it, Nick, the loan committee is tightening credit on everyone. You know that. A lot of it is out of my hands these days. But if you were to show up and make your case in person that might carry more weight than mine, even if you have been acting funny since you got back stateside. When you coming back to work anyway?”
“I’m not sure.” He didn’t want to think about going back to those four claustrophobic walls. “Listen, Charlie, just do your best. Try to keep this inside the loan committee, okay, the less people who know, the better. Your recommendation as well as mine should be enough. I’ll put mine in an e-mail. I just don’t want this becoming common knowledge. Keep it low profile.”
And then he decided to use the same spiel on Charlie he’d given everyone else. “While you’re at it, why don’t you surprise the wife with a romantic getaway to The Cove?” He rattled off the phone number. “Be sure to call soon, the place is starting to fill up.”
As if knowing what her mood would be like after getting back from town, Nick got busy putting up the porch swing. He’d just finished drilling the holes, when Jordan pulled the SUV into the driveway and climbed out. It didn’t take a genius to read body language. From the porch he could make out the tight set of her jaw and the fact she looked plenty pissed. Even as she pulled Hutton out of her car seat, he noticed she didn’t look particularly inclined to open that jaw and talk to him. He was pretty sure he should be grateful for the silence because when she did start talking he figured he’d still be in hot water.
Without a glance in his direction she walked up to the porch and sailed right past him, without so much as a hello. He gave Dog a knowing look. “She’s steamed all right. I just hope I can talk myself out of this one.” Picking up the puppy, he patted the dog’s head. “We need to go find us a doghouse and lay low for a while.”
She was still fuming as she ladled soup into bowls to go with the hot ham and cheese sandwiches she’d fixed for lunch. Sitting in her high chair, oblivious to the imminent clash of wills, Hutton stuffed macaroni and cheese into her mouth one handful at a time. When Nick strolled in, Jordan huffed out a breath. She wasn’t nearly ready to speak to the man. They’d been avoiding each other since she’d gotten back from town, but with lunch looming, avoidance was no longer an option.
Sensing the frosty atmosphere, Nick did what any intelligent man would do under the circumstances and went for a diversion, keeping up a steady conversation with the baby. Washing his hands in the kitchen sink, he directed his question to Hutton, “How’s that macaroni and cheese, Blondie?”
Hutton returned the favor, answering him with a string of baby-speak. Grateful for Hutton’s exchange, he fixed himself a glass of iced tea. When the phone rang it broke some of the tension. During the call, Jordan went from pissed off to jovial hostess in a matter of seconds. Since the caller was another reservation, it took some of the bite out of her temper, brightening her mood.
After she hung up, they sat down at the table together. Although in a better frame of mind, Jordan ate her soup in stony silence until Nick decided to meet the battle head-on. He purposefully asked, “How was the trip into town?”
Jordan glared at him. With one quick look at Hutton, between clenched teeth, she said stiffly, “You know perfectly well how it went. And we’ll talk about this later, after I get Hutton down for her nap.”
As if on cue Hutton held out a spoon full of pasta and promptly dropped it on the floor. When Dog ran over to lick up the unwanted food, Hutton found that extremely funny. She began to clap her hands and drop more on the floor. Wh
en she noticed Nick laughing, she giggled even more and started chanting, “Dog. Dog. Dog.” Not one to lose the opportunity of the moment, Nick turned to Jordan and pointed out, “Hutton’s talking to me.”
“Oh, I’m talking to you. I just don’t think you’re gonna like what I have to say.” With that, she turned her attention to cleaning up Hutton.
Later after Jordan got her down for a nap, she walked into one of the guest rooms to see Nick standing on a ladder, installing a ceiling fan with a lighting fixture. Her heart softened a little just seeing him work so hard and knowing what he’d done for the place, for her. But despite that they had to clear the air.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her walk into the room holding the baby monitor in her hand that she carried everywhere she went, night or day, whenever Hutton slept. When he saw her set it down on the dresser, he climbed down off the ladder, prepared to do battle. He watched her cross her arms in a defiant stance. “That’s why you offered to go into town, wasn’t it? So, I wouldn’t find out what you’d done.”
“What I did? Me? I don’t know what version you got from those nut jobs in town but I was minding my own business, having a beer, and some guy I don’t even know throws a punch at me, then insults you.”
Trying to keep her voice level, she tossed back, “And why did that happen? I don’t need you to defend me, Nick.” She was pacing now, building up a new head of steam. “You’ve made things ten times worse. Usually, they just ignore me. Now, the whole town is laughing at me and talking behind my back.”
“Please.” He rolled his eyes. “Like they weren’t doing that before?”
“Okay. They talked behind my back. But now they’re openly snickering and laughing at me. You should have seen them at Ferguson’s and at Murphy’s. It’s… humiliating.”
“So you’d rather have me just stand there and let them say things about you that aren’t true. That would have been better?”
Promise Cove Page 14
