Tallulah Heartbeat (Tallulah Cove Book 1)

by Casey Hagen

  Abby met Kate’s gaze; her lip twitched as did Kate’s, and before she knew it, they were giggling like teenagers.

  “Mommy, I’m hungry,” Blake said from the doorway as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. His Thor pajama pants twisted around his waist as they usually did when he rushed while in the bathroom.

  Abby kissed the top of his dark head and brushed at the short dark curls he’d gotten from his daddy. “I’ll get your breakfast started right now. In the meantime, did you wash your hands?”

  Blake looked up at her, his brow furrowed. “I don’t like washing them.”

  “Yes, so you tell me every day, and every day I make you wash your hands, young man. Go on.”

  He took off down the hall to the bathroom, his little feet smacking against the tile, dispelling the quiet of the morning.

  “He’s a stubborn one,” Kate said.

  “Yes, he is. He must get that from you,” Abby said as she took out the eggs and sausage.

  “Probably. Sorry about that.”

  Abby snorted. “No, you’re not.”

  “Abby?”

  “Hmm?” she said, heating up the pans.

  “You should go out again. Soon. Find that guy of yours.”

  Abby shook her head. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to, just to see if the chemistry was real. If nothing else, even if he wasn’t father material for Blake, he had the power to awaken what it felt like to be a whole woman again. “He’s not mine. That man belongs to his memories.”

  And his mistakes.

  Kate wrapped an arm around her and tipped her head against Abby’s. “He sounds like someone I know…maybe you two have some common ground after all.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BEN WENT BACK TO THE Little Laguna again on Thursday night. He’d told himself he wasn’t looking for her. He’d justified it because of all his hard work lately. He finally had the time; didn’t he deserve it?

  He was full of utter horseshit.

  He’d sat at the bar for three hours.

  Three.

  Did he mention he’d sat there for three hours?

  He’d turned into a complete idiot. Rob, the same bartender from the night before, was there, and even he’d started looking at him funny and smirking like he knew just what Ben was hoping for.

  They both knew he was an idiot.

  He really didn’t need to push it so hard. It’s not like she was the only woman in Tallulah Cove, for Christ’s sake. The place was crawling with attractive women.

  Yet the only one he could think about was her.

  She’d said that if they were meant to see each other again, they would. Maybe he needed to just let it go.

  Fine, he’d do that, but if he didn’t run into her again in the next two weeks, he was going to spend every night in the damn Little Laguna until he bent the hands of fate to his will.

  He pushed away from his metal desk and crossed into the construction trailer kitchen and poured himself a cup of strong, black coffee. He took a long gulp and welcomed the burn on his tongue.

  His secretary, Millie, had stayed late the night before and cleaned the trailer from top to bottom. He’d told her repeatedly it wasn’t her job, but she had other ideas, so every Friday he arrived to a construction trailer that smelled of lemon Pledge, freshly vacuumed floors, and a gleaming bathroom. He had to wonder if she did it because she couldn’t work Fridays. Her husband needed dialysis and, so far, those dialysis appointments occupied her the last day of the week for months. As they should.

  So, she may be assuaging her guilt by cleaning, and he would assuage his guilt over her staying late by padding her check.

  The minute she saw it, she’d go toe to toe with him.

  And he’d get his way.

  The door slammed open. “Hey, boss. How ya doin’?” Jason said.

  Ahh, his other favorite employee. He appreciated them all, but he had a couple of all-stars in his midst, and he firmly believed in rewarding hard work and dedication.

  Jason had proved to be Ben’s best head carpenter. He was dedicated to the job and to doing quality work. He was fast, but careful, and that was hard to find in a carpenter. Jason was a huge part of the reason Ben had had the time to go to the Little Laguna. He’s the reason he would have more time to do so in the future.

  Ben leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m glad you’re here early; there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Jason filled his travel mug, then glanced up at Ben. “Is everything okay?”

  Ben smiled and patted Jason’s shoulder. “Everything is great. So great, in fact, that I want you to take over the crew, visit job sites like I normally do. I’ll still check in, but I think it’s time to hand it off so I can catch up on office matters that have built up.”

  Jason nodded. “Sure, whatever you need me to do.”

  Ben leaned against the table holding the overworked coffee pot, disposable cups, and anything the crew could possibly want in their coffee. Millie made sure they had options, even specialty creamers. Most of the guys liked to pretend they were for the women on his crew, but more often than not he saw the guys dipping into them more than the women. “The promotion to foreman comes with a twenty percent increase and full benefits.”

  Jason looked at him, a look of confusion on his face. “But I have full benefits.”

  Ben laughed. “You pay for your full benefits. As foreman, I pay for your benefits.”

  Jason shook his head and averted his gaze. If Ben didn’t know better, he’d say he’d embarrassed Jason. “Oh, well…uh, damn. This couldn’t come at a better time,” Jason muttered.

  “Really, why’s that?” Ben asked.

  Jason scratched at the hair behind his ear and winced. “Veronica is pregnant.”

  Ben ignored the ache in his chest at the news. “Congratulations, man. That’s great.”

  Jason took a deep breath and then smiled. “Yeah, I’m terrified.”

  “That’s probably a good thing. It’ll keep you from screwing up,” Ben said with a laugh.

  Jason cleared his throat. “No screw-ups would be nice.”

  Ben pushed away from the table and picked up the schedule he’d put together for Jason. “Oh, I didn’t say you wouldn’t screw up. A little fear will minimize the frequency, though.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” Jason said with a laugh.

  “You’re welcome. Now, a little bit more business. This is the inspection schedule I keep. Max’s crew is operating smoothly. Dan has hit a few hiccups, but nothing out of the ordinary. Lenny has had nothing but problems with deliveries, but it’s not his fault. You’ll see I’ve doubled the rotation on those sites. Not because I don’t trust the guys, I do, but just to be available as much as possible if they need me to step in.”

  Jason nodded and took the schedule. “Got it.”

  “This isn’t set in stone. If you see a need to shift, do so. If you’re unsure, bring it to me, and we’ll discuss it. I’ll be in the office every day until one p.m. I’ll be taking care of permits and other job-related errands most afternoons. I’m reachable so, anything you need, don’t hesitate.”

  “You can count on me.”

  Ben clasped Jason’s shoulder. “I know I can. Now, why don’t you take a minute and tell Veronica the good news before you head out for the day? Give her a smile.”

  He nodded and smiled. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  Ben went back to his scarred metal desk and spent the morning tackling one project at a time until he’d put a hefty dent in the stack of manila envelopes screaming for his attention. He might have gotten even further if his mind stopped wandering to a certain brunette with winking pants.

  Restless and unable to stand the idea of being tied to his desk another minute on such a beautiful day, he cut out early and headed to the county offices to file for a few permits. Once that was finished, he was taking some time in the sunshine.

  June in Tallulah Cove meant low seventies and an abundance of sunshine. He co
uld go outside without melting, unlike the years he’d spent growing up in Three Rivers. It was time to take advantage of some of it. Take a breath and appreciate that salty ocean air.

  When most people thought of California, their minds went straight to Los Angeles and Long Beach with sand, sun, heat, hundreds of thousands of people, and excess.

  They pictured manicured palm trees lining the Pacific Coast Highway and skin.

  So much skin.

  Not that he had a problem with skin, but as he’d gotten older, the flash of hot bodies and sultry hooded expressions had become monotonous. It had become impossible to tell what kind of personality hid behind the mask.

  Some of those women were sweet, but dabbling in their adventurous sides, but others were pro manipulators looking for men to take care of them.

  The work involved in finding out didn’t interest him one bit.

  Nope, being a man from a small town with hard lessons in his past, he had no desire to venture down that path.

  But here in Tallulah Cove, a little town in Mid-Coast California with the same Pacific Coast Highway, only wild and untouched, he could breathe.

  Known as the Little Laguna Beach of Mid-Coast Cali, the cliff ridge of the coast dipped, offering them a modest cove surrounded by untamed trees and cool sand for families to play in during the summer. In the fall, teens could be found after dark, setting up bonfires on the north side, in a cornered off section the locals reserved just for them.

  And if the beach wasn’t your scene, wine country started just five miles inland.

  In between, they had everything you could want. Art galleries, local artisan foods, toy stores, craft markets, locally made gifts, and gourmet coffee roasters. The food ran the gambit with anything from gastropubs, burger dives, bars, ice cream parlors, and fifties diners.

  And that was just the American food.

  He’d grown up in a town with just over two thousand people where everyone knew his business. And those big cities in southern Cali? Hundreds of thousands of people. But here in Tallulah Cove with just shy of twenty thousand residents and a modest tourist scene, he had some anonymity, but he could count on coming across a familiar face most of the time.

  On his way out of the permit office, he heard his name. He turned to find George Mitchell waving his hand in the air to get Ben’s attention.

  He turned and headed to meet George halfway. The man had given him his first shot on a crew almost thirty years earlier after meeting him by chance in a coffee shop in Three Rivers. George had immediately recognized the cocky and bitter adult Ben had become.

  He’d looked at Ben all those years ago and said, “You need something to do with your hands, son. You need a job that exhausts you to the point where you drop in bed at night, half asleep before your head even hits your pillow.”

  He had been right. George had made sure to get Ben a shot on one of the building crews he worked with. Ben’s whole direction in life had shifted at that coffee shop meeting. George had given Ben a chance at success, and Ben held on to it with both hands and never let go, saving him from a dark road.

  “Ben!” George exclaimed, giving Ben a hard hug. “How are you doing, son?”

  The man had aged, but he wore it well. You’d never know he was pushing seventy from his lively expression. George Mitchell had an infectious energy that Ben couldn’t imagine waning. “I’m good. Setup has gone well.”

  “Good, good. I’m happy to see a good, solid building company moving into the area. I hope you don’t mind if we reach out to you for some of our construction needs.”

  “Of course not. Happy to have the business.”

  George leaned in and grinned. “Great. I’ve gotta run; Lorraine’s waiting on me. It was good to see you. Let’s get together for breakfast soon.”

  Ben shook George’s offered hand. “I look forward to it.”

  Ben’s crews had waiting lists, but he’d build an additional team if he had to, just to help George out. He’d put together his best men. It was the least he could do for the way George had changed his life over that cup of coffee.

  George’s hand up couldn’t erase the mistake Ben had made, but it made a hell of a difference in how Ben moved forward. He’d never have a family of his own. That was his price, but George showed him that he didn’t have to tank his entire future based on a slip-up at seventeen. He could do good. He could find a kind of happiness.

  Because of that, he had managed to be a son, brother, and uncle. Maybe not a perfect one, but the guy he’d been before George had walked into that coffee shop, that guy was headed down a short road to prison.

  George saved him from himself.

  After stopping at home to change into board shorts and a tank top, Ben headed for one of the two parking areas along the edge of Tallulah Cove.

  He parked his Ford F250 and headed out on the wooden walkway that wound through the trees and shrubs, intent on starting his weekend early with a run on the beach.

  He’d started running years back on Pismo Beach, the first place he’d landed after escaping Three Rivers, before he’d made the commitment to Tallulah Cove. Since settling, he hadn’t had the time for a good beach run and that changed today.

  Maybe he’d burn off enough energy that he could get through the night without breaking his own rules and heading to the Little Laguna…again.

  He took off at a brisk walk, adjusting his earbuds as he went, Bob Seger’s gravelly voice filling him. It’s like the man knew his history and had written his songs in a way to touch on the pain, just a fraction, before thrusting him into the nostalgia of his teen years and young love.

  After a few minutes, when his muscles warmed and a sheen of sweat broke out on his shoulders, he took off at a jog. The weight of the past six months broke away the faster his feet moved.

  He found the right rhythm with his breathing, concentrating on the slight burn of it in and out of his lungs, and smiled. He stayed on the harder sand just feet away from where the waves broke. People peppered the beach here and there, some in bathing suits, others in pants. It was that weird time of year where true Californians still felt that chill in the air, but vacationers, at least the ones from Northern California and beyond, broke out their swimwear.

  His feet pounded on the sand as he took in the expanse of the rocky wall that separated the cove from the road. Purple ice plants wound between the rocks, in full bloom, blanketing the earth in vibrant shades of violet with no care for the resistance of the rocky soil. Beyond, white calla lilies swayed in the light breeze.

  The flowers made all the difference by clashing stubborn charm with the wild rocky landscape. Most people only saw the beauty of the blooms, but as a builder, he saw what that beauty hid. Sometimes it made it damn hard for him to enjoy the view like a normal person.

  He wondered if Abby spent any time out here. Or did she work so damn hard she couldn’t make time?

  Don’t go there…

  He turned his focus to the internal sound of his feet pounding and his more labored breathing.

  Before long, with the tunes pounding in his ears, and his mind finally clear, he had a mile down. Slowing, he took a deep breath and slowed. No need to push it too hard his first time. He dropped down to the cool sand, propped his elbows on his bent knees, and looked out at the Pacific Ocean.

  The dark blue of the sea spread out far and wide, broken up clusters of rocks thrusting out of the sea and frothy crests that crashed against them sending water leaping into the air. Rows of small waves rolled and crashed, most by the beach, but a few breaking much farther out.

  Even further in the distance, there looked to be a cruise ship. That’s something they didn’t see very often from their vantage point, but after just a few minutes, it disappeared from—

  A clump of cold, wet sand smacked Ben right in the cheek. He closed his eyes, shook his head until the sand fell away, and turned to the culprit who had nailed him.

  A skinny little boy with dark curls and green eyes was holdin
g a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle a giggle. He clasped a blue plastic shovel with the other hand.

  He had built quite the sand castle, complete with turrets and a moat.

  Ben decided to speak to this mighty little builder in a language he would understand. “Is that how you treat a man, weary from days of riding, in search of food for his belly, maybe a bit of drink, and a warm place to lay his tired head?”

  Those green eyes lit up, and the boy shot his fist in the air as if wielding a sword. “How do I know you are honorable and trustworthy?”

  Ben smiled. “Did I not prove it when you took your shot at me? I didn’t run you through with my blade,” Ben said, and made a motion as if pulling a sword out of its sheathe.

  The boy regarded him with shrewd eyes. Ben had met his match in this one. “I will offer you drink, food, and a place to stay for the night. Then you must go. You will stay here…” the boy pointed at the turret in the front of the castle, “…far away from my maidens. I must protect their virtue.”

  Ben’s eyebrows shot up. “You know what their virtue is?”

  The boy gave him a bored look. “Of course! It’s their goodness.” He scratched at his curls, shovel in hand. Sand fell off the shovel, into his hair. “Right?” the boy asked.

  Damned if the kid wasn’t cute as hell. And smart. “It’s their goodness; you’ve got that just right.”

  “Blake, are you bothering this nice man?” a pretty woman asked. Despite the ponytail, her thick, dark waves blew over her shoulder and brushed her chin. She smiled at Ben for the benefit of the boy, if the cool, assessing gaze of hers was any indication.

  Mama Bear had her claws out.

  “He’s not bothering me at all. It’s okay. We had a dispute after he assaulted me with sand, but we’ve come to a gentlemen’s agreement on how to handle it going forward.”

  “Hmmm,” she said, and her lip twitched.

  “Young…Blake, was it? has consented to feeding my weary men and providing for us for the night. A generous compromise to the assault I suffered at the hands of his traitorous shovel.”

  The boy giggled and looked up to his mother. “See, I’m being good.”