Pelican Point (Bachelors of Blueberry Cove)

by Donna Kauffman

  He watched her debate on whether or not he’d let her get away with closing the door, but apparently one look at his expression had her opting to leave it open. Smart choice. But then, Cami was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

  Designer purse dangling from one arm, she clasped her hands in front of her in a deceptively polite demeanor, keeping her shoulders squared, chin level as she spoke. But with her back to Barb, she let her gaze wander up and down his body like a jungle cat looking for its next meal.

  When Logan had first come home from college and joined the Cove’s police force, she’d already been engaged to Teddy. She had taken great pains to make it clear to any and everyone in town that she held Logan responsible for the death of her best friend and future maid of honor, Jessica. She’d also made it clear to him in private that she’d be quite willing to listen if he was of a mind to persuade her to forgive him. If it involved maybe ripping her sensible little dress off of her body, all the better.

  Her aggressive and confusing game used to disconcert and unsettle him, not to mention piss him off. But he’d always known, at core, the player was a viper. He’d also known better than to confront her. The Winstocks had been wheeling and dealing in the Cove forever, not as long as the McCraes or the Monaghans, but far longer than Weathersby’s kin and most everyone else’s. They’d made their fortune early, invested it wisely; in addition to owning their fair share of the Cove, they had been one of its wealthier and therefore more politically influential families for more generations than most could recall.

  Hence Teddy’s early determination to hook his claws into the current generation’s available Winstock heir. Logan hadn’t quite understood what she saw in Teddy, but maybe she’d realized early on that his political aspirations combined with her money could eventually propel her beyond being big fish in the Cove pond to a state level lake or even a vast national ocean. It had never once occurred to him that she and Teddy actually loved each other.

  In all the years that had passed since, his opinion remained unchanged.

  Keeping his gaze on hers, Logan made it clear he was not only unmoved by her little display, but bored by it as well. “I’m not sure what the restoration has to do with my being police chief, but as this isn’t police business, you’ll have to excuse me.”

  Cami quickly recalibrated and stepped right up to the opposite side of his desk. “It’s not news how I feel about you personally, Logan McCrae, given my loyalty to my dear late friend, but I can certainly keep my professional interests separate from my personal ones. You know I always put the needs of our good townsfolk before my own.”

  That wasn’t just a minefield, it was the equivalent of stepping on a nuclear bomb. But he wasn’t stupid, either. “If there’s a point to this, I have an appointment to make, so please feel free to skip straight to it.”

  Her perfectly plucked and penciled eyebrows lifted, or as much as they were able to anyway. He thought he’d been calm and polite, almost ruthlessly so, as he always was with her, but perhaps, given the personal nature of her husband’s antics this past week where Alex was concerned, he’d allowed a bit of an uncustomary edge to creep into his tone. He’d learned the best way to disarm the ticking time bomb that was always Cami’s latest mission was to refuse to acknowledge there was a bomb in the first place. Annoyed her no end.

  It also, apparently, turned her on, which was an unfortunate side effect. Unsurprisingly, she recovered quickly. “My point is, you know the town council is pleased that you’re finally moving forward on their recommendations, and we’d like to discuss—”

  “I’m moving forward for the sake of the property,” he said before she got any further. “If that pleases the council, it’s a happy coincidence, and I’m glad.” He leaned his palms on the desk. She’d made an uncharacteristic mistake thinking she could trump him on his turf. “However, how I choose to go about working on my property, including who I choose to do that work, will be exclusively my decision. It’s not up for council discussion. Nor is the time frame in which the work will be completed, or which part of the property will be restored first, second, or last. Nor will your husband or anyone else on the council be claiming any sort of responsibility for the restoration taking place as some sort of campaign asset. I already made this very clear to Teddy, so there was no need for him to send you with a personal message.”

  Fire lit her dark brown eyes, but not in a way anyone would describe as warmly. “I am not my husband’s errand girl. As usual, you’re so caught up in your personal issues with me, you’re blinded to the bigger picture—which is that this town wants to help you.”

  “The council’s help comes with strings attached. No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He gestured to the door. “I believe you can see yourself out.”

  “I’m not sure what you think I’ve ever done to you to warrant such rudeness. Although I’m sure I make you uncomfortable as a constant reminder that you’re walking around a free man, while our poor Jessica never had the chance to see her graduation, her wedding day, her—”

  “Enough, Camille.” His sharp tone surprised a moment of silence out of her. He never reacted to her very calculated digs, and he knew he needed to rein it in, but dammit, he’d had just about enough. “I have no personal problem with you. I have no personal issues with the council. I’ve made that clear to you, and to Ted. I believe Alex has made that clear to him as well.” At the mention of Alex’s name, he caught an uncustomary flicker in her expression. Ah. Now he understood. Ted was making a spectacle of himself with Alex and Cami was annoyed. So this little visit was to give herself a chance to even some kind of private score.

  “Word is Alex MacFarland is doing a lot more than restoring your falling-down relic of a house.”

  It wasn’t often Cami made any miscalculated moves, much less two in one visit. Because when he grinned in the face of her tactless insinuation, she was clearly caught off guard. “Frankly, Camille, I don’t care what the word is. Now, if you don’t mind.” Logan nodded toward the open doorway.

  Clearly livid, but smart enough to know when to cut her losses, she turned to leave, then paused at the door and looked over her shoulder. He absently wondered if she practiced that move in the mirror at home.

  Eyes steady, expression smooth and flawless once again, she gave him a smile of her own. “Well, perhaps you would care more if you knew that she’s been spending every spare moment—and possibly a few more that she should be spending doing her job for you—with Brodie Monaghan. He won’t shut up about her. I’d say he’s completely smitten. I do know tongues are starting to wag.”

  Logan had no idea what he’d expected her to say, but that wasn’t it. While the insinuation didn’t affect him any more than her first one had, she must have seen something flicker in his expression. And that’s all it took.

  Her smile spread, as much as it was able to, anyway, revealing a row of perfectly matched and blindingly white teeth. “She’s flaunting her connection to the police chief all over town, trying to score favors so she can lowball this proposal she’s putting together, so you’ll give her a contract. All the same while, she’s taking care of her personal interests behind your back, but right under the noses of everyone else. Quite the piece of work you’re harboring under your roof.” Cami slipped her purse farther up her sleeve. “I’d watch your back if I were you, Chief McCrae. You’re making a fool out of yourself, and, because of your position, the town as well. Maybe people will finally see what I’ve known all along—that they should have never trusted you with this job in the first place.”

  And then she was gone, leaving a chill in the room and the faint scent of Chanel in her wake.

  Logan waited until she’d exited the building, then tucked his hat back under his arm and left his office, closing the door behind him.

  “Sir, she’s just—”

  “Sergeant, I’m very well aware of exactly what she’s just.”

  “A woman scorned will say whatever she can t
o draw blood.”

  “She’s not scorned, I never—”

  “She’s perpetually scorned where you’re concerned. And thank goodness for it. Sir,” Barb added, when he merely continued to stare at her. “Only now she’s got a new target to aim for. If she thinks for a second it’s made you vulnerable in some way—”

  “I don’t pay attention to her nonsense, you know that. I haven’t before, and I certainly won’t now.”

  “Yes, sir. But what I meant was, if she thinks she’s found a chink in the armor, she’ll exploit that chink directly, if you know what I mean. While Alex has handled Ted with admirable efficiency, we both know Camille is a Winstock and plays on an entirely different level.” Barb held up her hand briefly to stall Logan’s reply. “All I’m saying is, you need to give Alex a heads-up. Explain the town dynamic so at least she has some sense of what’s going on around her.” Barb folded her arms on her desk. “And fair warning on what might be coming straight at her.”

  The sun was just beginning to dip over the trees behind the Point as he pulled in his driveway. Alex’s old truck was there, as were three other pickups. Two had company names on the side that he recognized as the subcontractors he was supposed to be meeting with. The other truck, if he wasn’t mistaken, was Brodie’s.

  Wonderful.

  Shutting out a replay of Cami’s snide little scene in his office didn’t keep him from wondering what the hell Brodie was doing out on the Point. Logan climbed out of his SUV, and since he was already late, didn’t bother going inside and changing out of his uniform. He trekked around to the north side of the house, where they were supposed to be meeting to discuss the roof and the windows and do some preliminary talks about the cottage. If he’d been much later, the twilight would have deepened to the point that getting anything productive done would have been impossible.

  He found himself pausing as he rounded the back corner of the house and spotted Alex standing out in the middle of the open grassy area, ever-present clipboard propped against her stomach, while she watched—his gaze scanned away from her to the house—two men clomp around on his roof. Another was out by the cottage on his hands and knees, looking at something along the back wall. He recognized all three men. None of them was Brodie Monaghan. Maybe he’d been wrong about the truck and Cami had gotten under his skin more than he wanted to admit.

  His gaze shifted back to Alex. She was wearing green fatigues tucked into black work boots, a thick dark blue hoodie, and her heavy canvas coat over it all. She also had what looked like one of his knit caps pulled down over her ears. There was nothing even remotely alluring about her getup, and yet, she had his full and complete attention. Watching her in her element—taking copious notes while she shouted back and forth with Wade up there on the roof, smiling, laughing, but keeping things on point—grabbed at parts of him that had nothing to do with regular sex and a whole lot more to do with a very different set of needs he’d avoided thinking about for a very long time.

  She’d only been in the Cove and under his roof for a little over a week, but the change in her was remarkable. It wasn’t that the shadows and the remnants of grief weren’t still there, but it was easier to see past them when she smiled. He could almost see her brain working a hundred miles a minute on whatever restoration issue was on her mind at any given moment, just like it was now.

  She hadn’t been kidding about being very good at what she did. In fact, the amount of information she’d put together had blown his mind—the breadth and depth of her knowledge on how best to approach the repairs, in what order, and in a manner that was not only fiscally responsible for him and the trust, but also with an eye toward layering the repairs in a way that would allow any number of new technologies to be applied. All of it would reduce the need for constant maintenance and upkeep while preserving and respecting the origins of the property as much as possible.

  He owed Fergus a call and another apology. He’d been so caught up in creating a stable day-to-day existence for himself, he had truly let the family down, current and past. And he was beginning to realize how much he’d been letting himself down. He should have been exploring options and staying on top of things far more than he had—with regards to the property and himself. Steady and stable were good things to strive for, but he was beginning to realize that in his attempt to minimize risk so his personal life wouldn’t be turned upside down again, he’d also removed any chance for his life to be turned upside down by something good.

  Eula had told him to be open to personal change and he’d more or less smirked at the idea, thinking he was as open as the next guy. And yet, in one week’s time, he’d come to realize just how entrenched and closed off he’d let himself become. The question was . . . what was he going to do about it?

  The answer to that had been one he’d been grappling with all week.

  It was one thing to acknowledge there was a problem—one he sincerely wanted to tackle—and another thing entirely to actually take the steps required to make some changes.

  Wade’s shout interrupted his thoughts and he looked back up to the roof. “Whole thing’s gonna have to come off down to the frame, if you want the truth of it.”

  Wade’s brother Scotty came across the roof from the other side. “Miracle one of us didn’t go right through. Did you check for water leaks? Is there attic space?”

  “I’m still working on that,” Alex called up to him. “We’ve got water damage in all of the exterior walls, but nothing coming in through the ceilings in the upper level rooms. There’s a crawl space attic on the back side of the main house. I’ve been up there, but I haven’t gotten any indication there’s been water or anything else coming in through the roof directly. I think Logan’s been really lucky in that regard. Mostly, the leaking seems to be under the eaves and around all of the windows. And there’s a definite issue with the pipes.”

  Before Logan could assimilate the idea that he was going to have to replace more than just the shakes on the roof and that this fell into the lucky category, Hank had clambered to his feet and was calling Alex over to look at something along the foundation wall next to the side door of the cottage. Logan couldn’t hear all of what Hank was telling her, but from the sudden sag to her shoulders and then the rapid scratching of pencil to paper, he assumed that whatever it was, the word lucky wasn’t part of that particular assessment.

  Realizing he’d been standing in the gathering shadows at the corner of the house for the better part of the last five minutes watching Alex work, he figured it was time to join the conversation directly.

  Another voice chimed in before he’d taken a single step. “Have you been up in the tower yet? It’s quite the proud sentinel, isn’t it then?” The musical sound of his lively brogue was joined a second later by the man himself as Brodie Monaghan came around the far side of the lighthouse and crossed the grass toward Alex. “We had a lighthouse out on Dunagree Point near where I grew up in County Donegal. Never been up in one, though. Is she still seaworthy? Can we take a look?”

  Logan stepped from the shadows then, fingers clenched, his protective instincts a bit more evolved than he’d realized until that moment. He told himself it was simply a by-product of wanting to protect Alex from anything that would trigger those harsh images and memories. But looking at Brodie smiling, all engaging and charming, and Alex standing there, seemingly relaxed despite the abrupt shift in subject matter, he wasn’t so sure there weren’t a few other emotions at play. Ones that weren’t all so altruistic in nature.

  Damn Cami and her insidious gossip. Logan would have never gone there if it hadn’t been for her planting the seeds. Why the hell was he letting it bother him? He had no claim on Alex. Not really. They’d had sex a few times and had agreed they’d keep that exclusive to each other while it lasted. But it would certainly be easy for her to end that agreement as swiftly and easily as she’d entered into it in the first place. Maybe her short time in Blueberry had been more restorative than he realized. Maybe she wanted t
o embrace a broader scope of things in her newfound life. And maybe that scope included Brodie Monaghan.

  “And maybe you’re an even bigger idiot than you thought,” he muttered, and walked across the yard.

  Chapter 11

  “Not yet,” Alex told Brodie. “It’s not a priority at the moment.” She congratulated herself for maintaining a steady hand on the clipboard, a steady note to her voice. Admittedly, it was a bit easier to do with Brodie’s megawatt smile and dancing green eyes providing a distraction from the tower looming behind him. But she could feel it standing watch over her—as she had every single minute she’d been out there. Mostly it felt good, comforting . . . as long as she didn’t think about going up inside it.

  “I imagine watching the sunrise from the top is quite a spectacle.”

  “It is.”

  Alex’s gaze jerked to her right. She hadn’t seen Logan approaching.

  “Sorry,” he said to her. “I got held up at the last second.”

  “Not to worry,” Brodie told him, giving Logan a hearty, open-palmed slap on his shoulder. “From the looks of it, she’s got things well in hand.”

  Logan’s gaze shifted to hers. “So I see.”

  Alex wasn’t sure what was going on behind Logan’s enigmatic gaze, and she wasn’t quite certain she wanted to. She was pretty sure it might piss her off.

  “Wade and Scotty have done the assessment on the roof,” she said, shifting the clipboard so he could see her notes. “It’s pretty much what I thought, but thankfully, not worse. So there’s that.” She nodded toward the side of the cottage. “Hank’s looking at the foundation and the exterior. He’s done some restoration work locally and knows his stuff. The good news is, despite the sinkage and resulting pitch issues, it’s salvageable and the frame is sturdy.” She flipped up several pages on the clipboard and tapped on a drawing she’d made earlier. “The bad news is that everything else is pretty much . . . questionable.”