Pelican Point

by Irene Hannon

  “All that evidence was circumstantial, though—and surely your co-workers vouched for your character.”

  “Yes, they did.” He scrubbed his gritty eyes. “However, in this day and age, sexual harassment charges are media fodder for any organization. The army is no exception. They had to treat her story seriously while they investigated.”

  “Were you put in . . . did they arrest you?”

  “No—but I was suspended from duty and confined to base during the inquiry.”

  “Is this why you left the military?”

  “No. My tour was winding down, and I’d already arranged to go into civilian practice. Except this incident jeopardized the position in Ohio too.” He shook his head. “It was a nightmare.”

  “But you were cleared.”

  “Yes. The investigation was mercifully fast. My commanding officer put zero credence in her story, and quite a few people came forward to testify about her unstable emotions and give examples of other smaller lies they’d witnessed. There’d been a few blips at her previous job too. In the end, she admitted she might have overstated her case and backed off.”

  “Could you have pressed charges in return?”

  “Yes—but she was fired, and I thought that was the end of it. Until Friday, when she showed up at my door.”

  “Here?” Marci’s question came out in a squeak, her eyes rounding.

  “Yes. She had a PI track me down, booked a room at the Gull Motel, and has been sitting in front of my house ever since. At least during daylight hours.”

  “But . . . but what’s the point? What does she want?”

  “Me.” He told her about their exchange on his porch.

  Marci’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I wish I was. She has to be delusional to think I’d have anything to do with her after what she put me through.”

  “Can’t the police get rid of her?” Marci set her mug down.

  “No.” He recounted his discussions with Lexie. “But they’re willing to work with me. They’re the ones who confirmed her car is at the Gull and the coast was clear for me to come and talk to you tonight.”

  She squeezed the bridge of her nose. “It’s late, and I’ve had a long day, so cut me a little slack if I’m not following everything. Why do you care if she sees you coming over here?”

  “Because of what she did to that nurse’s room.” He reached for her hand. It was as cold as his. “And because she mentioned you when she came to my door. She thinks you may be a rival. The last thing I want to do is put you in danger.”

  She stared at him . . . and as her gaze searched his, he prayed she’d believe everything he’d told her—and understand that this late-night visit reflected the depth of his feelings for her. That he was determined to protect her from a woman whose unstable . . . and unpredictable . . . emotions scared the life out of him.

  He could handle Nicole now that he’d learned how she operated, but if she set her sights on Marci . . . if she decided the Herald editor represented a serious threat . . . who knew what she might do?

  “Do you think she’s actually capable of physical violence?”

  “Yes.”

  As he gave voice to his deepest fear, sweat broke out on his upper lip and a muscle ticced in his jaw.

  He couldn’t lose Marci. The very possibility short-circuited his lungs.

  And his panicked reaction also brought sudden, crystal-clear clarity to his stay-or-go dilemma.

  If he and Marci survived this curve they’d been thrown, he wasn’t going to leave Hope Harbor.

  He’d stay in the town he’d always loved and trust that everything would work out between him and the woman who had staked a claim on his heart.

  However . . . the ball was in her court now.

  Even if she believed every word he’d said, she could back off. Given all she’d been through with her own stalker, she might want nothing to do with a man whose life was being disrupted by a woman bent on creating chaos in his world.

  He couldn’t blame her if she bailed.

  Yet as he waited for her response, he sent a silent plea heavenward that she’d stick with him through whatever lay ahead.

  21

  Marci looked down at their clasped hands as she tried to digest all Ben had told her.

  Given his experience with this Nicole woman, no wonder the man had been alarmed—and repelled—by her propensity to fly off the handle. He’d probably been afraid he’d crossed paths with another psycho.

  Thank goodness he’d gotten past those initial negative impressions.

  And if he’d asked the police to keep tabs on Nicole so he could make a clandestine middle-of-the-night run up here to minimize any risk to her, his feelings must be as strong as hers.

  He’d also said he was committed to working out the logistics of their relationship. If he didn’t have serious intentions, that issue wouldn’t be high on his priority list.

  All of which told her he wanted to give this thing between them every possible chance.

  But the slight tremble in his fingers told her even more—as did the hint of fear in his eyes.

  He was very, very worried the messy situation with Nicole would raise doubts in her mind about his character. Undermine the foundation of trust they’d been laying.

  Those fears, however, were groundless—and her first order of business was to put them to rest.

  Shifting toward him on the couch, she squeezed his fingers and locked gazes with him.

  “First of all, I appreciate you sharing that whole story. Second, I don’t believe anything that woman said about you—nor does the nasty business she instigated change my feelings toward you one iota.”

  His throat worked, and the taut line of his shoulders relaxed a hair. “Thank you.”

  “Third, you don’t need to worry about me because Looney Tune is in town. Now that I’ve been warned, I’ll be watching my back. And I have a stellar alarm system here. Nicole might have been able to sneak into that nurse’s room and your quarters, but she won’t get into this fortress. That’s one positive outcome from my experience in Atlanta, anyway.”

  Parallel creases scored his forehead. “I hope you’re right—but this is an isolated spot, and you do go outside to work in your garden.”

  “I always have pepper gel with me, even in the yard. More fallout from Atlanta.”

  “Which works to our advantage in this situation.” He wiped a hand down his face. “I keep hoping she’ll get tired of the game and go away once she realizes I have no interest in her.”

  “You could be leaving for Ohio before that happens.”

  “Maybe not.”

  Her heart stumbled. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been having some second thoughts about taking that job.”

  “Seriously?” Stay calm, Marci. Don’t jump to conclusions. Let the man explain before you throw yourself into his arms.

  “Yes.” He took her other hand. “I think we have a whole lot of potential, and you’ve been clear you’re not interested in a long-distance romance.”

  Yeah, she had said that.

  But in light of her growing feelings for Ben, she’d bend that rule if it would smooth the path ahead of them.

  “I, uh, might be willing to renegotiate that.”

  “You don’t have to. While you were gone, I put out a few job feelers—and I think I could have a satisfying career here.”

  As he told her about the conversations he’d had with the urgent care center and the orthopedic practice in Coos Bay, her spirits soared.

  If Ben had gone to all that effort to try and line up an alternate career path in Hope Harbor . . . if he was willing to give up a plum practice in Ohio . . . his feelings did run as deep as hers.

  Cue the “Hallelujah Chorus”!

  Except . . .

  She frowned.

  Much as she’d rather ignore the concern strobing across her brain, it wouldn’t be fair to Ben. He was the one with
the most to lose.

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you want me to stay?” He released her hand and traced a finger down her cheek.

  “Of course! It’s just that I . . . what if we don’t . . . I mean, we’re only at the beginning of this relationship, and . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “You’re worried the fireworks might fizzle.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ve already considered that—and I don’t think it’s going to happen. I’m convinced the odds are in our favor.”

  “But what if you’re wrong?”

  He shrugged. “There are no guarantees in life, and I accept that. If by some chance the two of us go our separate ways, Hope Harbor has other compensations—like Charley’s tacos and Sweet Dreams cinnamon rolls.” He winked and gave her a slow smile that set off another round of those fireworks he’d mentioned.

  Given all the rockets and sparklers going off inside her, it was not easy to engage the left side of her brain—but she tried her best to analyze his response. Was he making a compromise he wasn’t entirely certain about and might later regret?

  Hard to tell, with her mind in a muddle—but he seemed sincere. Looked sincere. Sounded sincere. And the warmth in his eyes felt sincere.

  Still grinning, he tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. “Stop thinking so hard. This is what I want to do—and I’m not changing my mind. Subject closed.”

  In that case . . .

  “When you put it like that, how can I argue?” She scooted closer. “So what’s the plan with Nicole?”

  His lips flattened. “Wait her out, I guess. We can’t force her to leave. But until she does, I think the two of us need to be discreet and keep our distance. Since she already suspects I’m interested in you, I’d rather not fuel the fire by her seeing us together.”

  “So we’re going to let her run our lives?” Marci backed off a few inches and crossed her arms. Allowing other people to dictate their behavior stunk—and she’d vowed never to do that again after her experience with Jack.

  “No.” In contrast to her huffiness, his tone was calm and reasoned. “We’re going to be smart and let this go away all by itself. I’d rather she leave on her own than force her hand. It will be far tidier—and less dangerous.”

  “Maybe if she sees us together she’ll realize her pursuit is a lost cause and leave sooner.”

  “Or she’ll get mad and do who knows what.”

  “It’s hard to be invisible or get away with much in a small town. And the police could watch her.”

  “Not every minute of the day and night. Hope Harbor doesn’t have those kinds of resources. Very few police departments do.”

  She scowled. “I hate letting her have this much control over our lives.”

  “It doesn’t sit well with me either. I’m not one to run from a fight. But I’ve tangled with her once and she doesn’t play by any rules I learned. Will you do it my way for now?” He stroked a finger over her lips, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

  Mmm.

  Nice.

  “I think this borders on coercion.” She tried not to purr as her eyelids drifted closed.

  “Is it working?” His husky question sent a tingle down her spine.

  Oh yeah.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Maybe this will work even better.”

  Before she could open her eyes to gauge his intent, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Oh.

  Man.

  The scent of earthy, intoxicating sandalwood surrounded her as he tucked her firmly against his chest while his lips worked magic.

  As soon as she could gather her wits, she wrapped her arms around his neck and matched him stroke for stroke, touch for touch, nip for nip.

  Bliss.

  When they surfaced a few minutes later, she was breathing hard.

  “That was . . .” Her voice wobbled, and she swallowed. “That was some first kiss.”

  “I agree.” He nuzzled her neck, his touch electrifying every pore in its wake.

  “I, uh, don’t think we have to worry about fireworks petering out.” She fanned herself with her hand. “At least not on my end.”

  He lifted his head, his irises the same intense cobalt hue as the fathomless waters of the deep. “Mine either.”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Forking her fingers through the thick hair at the back of his neck, she grazed the stubble on his chin with her lips.

  A low growl rumbled in his throat. “Quit tempting me.” He eased back, and she let her hand slide to lie flat against his chest, where the hard, rapid pounding of his heart throbbed against her fingertips. “It’s the middle of the night, we’re here alone . . . and I’m not a saint. We need to stop.”

  “You started it.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Although he didn’t appear to be in the least repentant. “Are you sorry?”

  “Nope.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have.” He played with a tendril of her hair. “But I didn’t want to leave any doubts about my feelings, and it could be a while until we can do this again.”

  Because of Nicole.

  Some of her euphoria faded.

  She was liking the woman less and less with every passing minute.

  “Are you certain you can’t convince her to leave?”

  “I tried the day she arrived. She was not receptive to my message. And both Lexie and Eric have advised I not speak with her again.”

  She hiked up her eyebrows. “You talked to an attorney?”

  “I’m trying to cover all the bases.”

  “Has she bothered you since that first day?”

  “Other than sitting outside the house and following me wherever I go, no.”

  Marci suppressed a shiver. “This is very creepy.”

  “Yeah.” He twisted his wrist and squinted at his watch. “I should leave. It’s getting really late, and you have to be exhausted.”

  “Not as much anymore. My adrenaline is pinging like crazy—in a very pleasant way, thanks to you.”

  He grinned. “Should I apologize?”

  “Not a bad idea. But why not let actions speak louder than words?”

  She tugged his head back down.

  He didn’t resist.

  When they at last separated, she rested her forehead against his chin. “Okay. You’re forgiven.”

  A soft, deep chuckle tickled her ear. “If this is all it takes to make up with you after a fight, we’re never going to be mad at each other for very long.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  With superhuman effort, she finally extricated herself from his arms. “Much as I hate to break this up, I do have a full agenda tomorrow—today—and top on my list is the crowdfunding campaign. I’m hoping we see some initial results before our committee meeting on Wednesday . . . but if I log less than six hours of sleep, I’m not going to be very productive.”

  “Duly noted.” He stood and held out a hand. “There may not be much we can do about Nicole, but I can relieve your mind on one score with the lighthouse. I talked to my accountant, and if you can raise the amount we discussed last week, I’ll donate the difference between that and my other offer as a charitable contribution to the foundation.”

  “Yes!” She pumped her fist in the air and did a little happy dance.

  Ben chuckled. “Gee . . . I was hoping you’d show a tiny bit of enthusiasm.”

  “Sorry. I do have a tendency to get carried away when I hear good news.” She gave him another hug. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He hugged her back, then took her hand and walked her toward the door. “I’ll stay on the porch until I hear the beeps from your alarm system.”

  “I thought you said Nicole was at the motel.”

  “Last report, she was—but humor me. This woman is a master manipulator. I wouldn’t put anything past her.” He tipped the shade on the window adjacent to the door and scanned her front yard.

  “I know you want us
to keep our distance, but will you stay in touch by phone?”

  “Count on it.” After stealing one more quick kiss, he slipped through the door and shut it behind him with a soft click.

  Some of the supercharged air in the room exited with him . . . and all at once the house felt very, very empty.

  And very lonely.

  Odd.

  For two years she’d been perfectly fine living here alone—and she’d resolved to never again give any man a smidgeon of control over her state of mind.

  Yet as she ran up the stairs, set the alarm, and watched from the upper window while Ben strode toward his truck under the security lighting, she faced the truth.

  If you cared for someone, they did affect your moods . . . and your feelings . . . and how you viewed the world.

  And she cared for Ben.

  A lot.

  In fact, if she hadn’t already fallen head over heels for him, she was on the verge of tumbling.

  So as soon as Nicole was out of the picture and it was safe for them to get together again, she intended to take some hands-on action to accelerate that process.

  If she could wait that long.

  22

  Nicole was gone.

  At least her car was.

  Glass of OJ in hand, Ben tipped the slat in the front window blinds a tad more and gave the street a sweep in both directions.

  There were no vehicles parked on either side this Wednesday morning.

  Was it possible she’d tired of her game after only five days? Gotten his message, given up, and left town?

  It was almost too much to hope for.

  But it was worth checking.

  He set his glass on the table by the front window and tapped in Lexie’s number.

  After four rings, he prepared to leave a voicemail—but she answered at last, sounding sleepy.

  “Ben. Hi.” She cleared her throat. “What’s up?”

  “Did I wake you?” He peered at his watch. Cringed. Maybe eight in the morning was a bit early to call her personal cell.

  “I was pulled into a county-wide situation late last night that cut into my sleep, but I was about to get up. Trouble with your visitor?” The last vestiges of slumber vanished from her voice as she asked the question.