One Hot Christmas (Mercy Island Series Book 2)

by Jacquie Underdown

  Mid-morning, two days later, Hayden turned up on Tennessee’s doorstep. He was dressed in his battered boots, a pair of cargo shorts and a black polo shirt. The way his brown hair hung around his ears and those dark chocolate eyes seemed to search every part of her, left her momentarily forgetting how to breathe, let alone speak.

  Hannah had been right—Hayden was gorgeous. Next-level gorgeous. The unusual part, though, was he had no idea. None. Tennessee had worked with plenty of actors in her career, which meant she was surrounded by people with egos as big as houses. Always showing off and wanting to be the centre of attention. But this guy was the opposite. Quiet. Reserved. An enigma. Tennessee didn’t know how to deal with enigmas.

  “Come in,” she said. “I’m sorry to make you start at this time, but I didn’t want your power tools disturbing the guests.”

  “I understand.”

  “Would you like a coffee—?”

  “No, I’m fine, thanks,” he said with a smile. “I’ll just get started.”

  “Sure. Let me know if you need anything.”

  He nodded and set off towards the bedrooms with a tape measure in his hand and a tool belt strapped to his waist. She watched him as he strutted away, wondering which side of him she liked the most. In the end, she couldn’t decide because both front and back had an exceeding number of positives.

  Moving to Mercy Island was like moving to a new world. The clothing for starters—even in winter, it was too hot for much more than shorts and a t-shirt. And now summer was rolling around, the dress became less and less. Closed-in shoes were practically unheard of. Most people wore thongs or sandals—simply too humid for much else.

  Soon after Tennessee landed here, she packed up nearly every last one of her Victorian clothes and shoved them to the far back of her cupboard, never to be seen again.

  In her soap-opera world, and her small friendship group, people were mostly the same—boisterous, energetic, self-assured. The townsfolk of Mercy Island were something else. Friendly and kind, yes, but also laid back and modest. Over the past few months, she found herself stripping back her loud veneer, so she didn’t stand out like a sore thumb.

  Tennessee set about her daily duties as quickly as she could—cleaning the rooms, washing sheets and towels, making sure the cook had all she needed for the incoming guests.

  This afternoon, reporters were arriving from the local newspaper and TV news channels. She had been reluctant to prepare a media release and send it off, but it had to be done.

  She crossed her fingers that no one brought up her divorce. It had been one month since she had signed the papers and thirteen months since her separation from Johnathon, but the emotions still sat close to the surface.

  So far, she had evaded any scrutiny, mostly due to high tailing it from Melbourne soon after her relationship disintegrated. Hannah, who was a close friend since primary school, but had moved to Mercy Island last year, had offered her a safe space while the storm raged.

  The ocean breeze and wide-open beaches turned out to be the best thing she could have done to heal after a broken heart. During her short stay, she fell in love with this town and determined, in any way she could, to make Mercy Island her home.

  Tennessee’s acting career was over. She didn’t want to be in that tooth-and-nail industry anymore. She had outgrown it, or it had outgrown her—she wasn’t quite sure which. So, nearly seven months after her separation, when Seaspray House came up for sale, she laid down a contract immediately.

  After the vacated rooms were clean and fresh for her incoming guests, she stopped by the bedroom Hayden had been carting timber, tools and dust in and out of. He was stretching towards a light fitting that had come loose from the centre ceiling moulding. A strong, tanned stomach as his polo shirt lifted up a little drew all her attention.

  Under that dusty work uniform, there was undoubtedly a gorgeous physique. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip as her eyes trailed over that body. When she met his gaze again, he was already looking at her.

  She cleared her throat and her face flushed with heat. “I…um…” She thumbed in the direction of her front door. “I’m heading out to buy some groceries. Did you need anything?”

  He shook his head—no indication in his expression that he had caught her ogling him. “I’m all good.”

  “Great. See you soon.”

  Tennessee rushed away, collecting her purse, slipping into her thongs and making her way out to her car. Images burned in her brain, sending aftershocks through her body of pressing her lips against his. Tasting the salt on his toned stomach with her tongue.

  What was wrong with her? This guy was reducing her to a flustered schoolgirl incapable of stringing full sentences together. She had worked with incredibly gorgeous men in her career, but never had any of them made her feel like this.

  Yes, granted, Hayden was beyond sexy. But it had to be his reserved nature—it seemed so much in contrast to his external shell. She needed time to know what was inside—if he opened up a little more, that was.

  She shook her head, climbed into her car and held the steering wheel tightly. Get a grip, Tennessee. It’s a superficial crush. And what did it matter anyway? Hayden was doing some temporary work for her. Maybe she’d never speak another word to him after these few weeks were up.

  She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. Who was she trying to kid? Three thousand residents lived on Mercy Island. She would have to become a recluse to avoid bumping into Hayden around town.

  As she started the car’s engine, a different chain of thoughts struck her. Her stomach wrenched as the emotional torment she had experienced this past year flooded her body. A not-so-subtle reminder of what falling in love did to people. It hurt like all hell when it ended.

  She was still much too fragile. Her heart bore fresh war wounds.

  Tennessee blew out a long breath and reversed her car. That flooding reminder was enough to discard any romantic notions she was entertaining about Hayden.

  Chapter 4

  As Hayden stopped the circular saw on the last cut of timber he needed for the outside window blinds, he heard the clamour behind him. While leant over a workhorse, his earphones in, he had been oblivious to the incoming cars and people gathering.

  Reporters. Camera crews. They were setting up lighting out the front of Seaspray House. He looked twice when he noticed Tennessee standing amongst them. She had changed out of her short shorts and tank into a tight, slinky red dress and a Santa hat.

  He’d have to be half-dead to not be turned on from the sight. Her silky blonde hair was flowing down her back. Makeup highlighted her bluest eyes. And heels. How she wore them on the sand was beyond him.

  She was next-level. Existing in a completely different stratosphere.

  The more he saw of this woman, the more he realised they were worlds apart. A bit like he and his ex were—despite the fact he had convinced himself otherwise for five long years.

  Tennessee sauntered towards him, not making one wonky step. He was sure he’d have broken an ankle by now. She smiled, though there was a little hesitation in it, and it sparked his curiosity.

  “I don’t want to disturb you because I know you’ve got a stack of work to do, but do you think you could down-tools for about thirty minutes while I get this done,” she said pointing to the gathering crew. “Have a breather and a snack. There is coffee and tea inside.”

  He looked up to the afternoon sky—there were about two and a half hours of sunlight left. He had planned to get these blinds finished today, but this was going to throw his schedule off.

  “Not a drama,” he said. This was great promotion for her—he wasn’t going to get in the way of that because of a schedule. Besides, he was curious. After Bear had told him Tennessee was an actress, he had gone home and, despite his better judgement, googled her. She had a stack of photos online. But the photos he had viewed didn’t match the woman he had met—until now. This afternoon, she had wrapped herself in all that glamour
.

  “You can come over and watch if you like?”

  He nodded. “I’ll go make a coffee then I’ll head back out.”

  She smiled, flashing straight rows of white teeth. A beautiful mouth—full plump lips with a crease along the centre of her lower lip like a ripe peach.

  He drew a deep breath in and strode away into the house.

  He was baffled. Okay, maybe not baffled. As he said, any hot-blooded male would find this woman attractive. But he had been in a world of heartbreak and anger for so many months now, this was the first time he had lifted his head above the gloomy clouds and seen what else was about him. Quite clearly, judging by his fast-racing heart, he was liking what he was seeing.

  He headed to the communal kitchen and made a coffee. He took his time, needing to get his head straight before he returned outside. When he did, mug in hand, he stood to the back of the growing pack.

  What a turnout for a small town. Although, he was sure, having a soap star living here was probably the biggest news this decade.

  A man called action, and it was as though a light had been switched on when the reporters began filming their interviews. Tennessee lit up. Her smile was enchanting. She became a completely different person. He couldn’t stop staring. Not because she was beautiful—which she most certainly was—but because he hadn’t witnessed anything like this.

  His world was construction. Had been from the time he left school. Small-scale carpentry while he lived here, then, when he chased Mandy to Brisbane, he moved up to project managing progressively bigger property developments. He’d never met an actress before.

  Seeing that smooth transition from one person to another, and the convincing way she was talking with the reporters, was slightly unnerving. Who was the real Tennessee?

  He shook his head and walked away. He couldn’t watch anymore. He hated pretence because he had been the biggest pretender of them all. For the past five years, he had tried so hard to be someone he wasn’t until he was too tired to put on the act anymore. He didn’t want to be in that world—whether it was him or others.

  Hayden rushed home after work and collected his surfboard from under his house. He strapped it to the roof of his ute, grabbed a fresh towel and headed to the beach. Before he left Tennessee’s, he had spotted Bear already out catching some great waves.

  Pulling up in the small parking lot, an exhilarating rush pulsed through him. Five years away from the ocean had left him a little rusty in the swell, but the feeling was still the same. Nothing else mattered when he was riding the waves.

  He climbed from his ute, untied his board, planted it under his arm and ran towards the ocean. The water hit his feet, rushed up to his ankles. He bounded over the waves until he threw his board down, climbed on top and paddled out into the deep. He ducked under incoming waves and kept on paddling, loving the refreshing sensation as the ocean washed over him.

  Sure, his heart was bruised. He had learnt a lot—the hard way. But coming back home to Mercy Island wasn’t a bad place to fall. If anything, it was the soft landing he needed.

  “Hey,” Bear said, when Hayden lined up a little way from him, sitting on his board, waiting for the next big wave. “How did you go at Tennessee’s.”

  “Good. My schedule was interrupted a bit, but I’ll catch up tomorrow.”

  “Interrupted, how?”

  “A heap of media showed up earlier to interview her about Twelve Dates of Christmas.”

  “So, you got to see her in action?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Did you like what you saw?” Bear asked with a half-smile and arched brow.

  Hayden shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if I did or didn’t. She is in a whole other stratosphere.” And he’d learnt, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, that at his core, he was a small-town boy with the salty ocean in his veins. He yearned for the simple life. Hated fanfare. He would never change himself to be what someone else wanted ever again.

  Bear nodded, understanding in his expression, then he lifted his hand and waved at someone on the shore. Hayden turned and found Hannah waving back. Beside her, dressed in the tiniest shorts Hayden had ever seen and a black bikini top was Tennessee. Her hair was blowing around her. He groaned because it was painful to turn away.

  Bear laughed. “You’re the most stubborn bastard I know.”

  Thankfully, a wave rushed towards them then. No more words. Hayden spun his board, lowered onto his stomach and paddled. The wave caught him, pushed him faster. He lurched to his feet and rode the wave. By the time he’d reached the shore, he was no longer thinking about Tennessee and he certainly wasn’t looking at her. Much.

  Chapter 5

  Tennessee had to clean four rooms this morning from top to bottom. Normally, she would rotate the guests across the twelve rooms depending on what was available, so she could ease the time-burden of cleaning, but with half the bedrooms receiving repairs, that only left six rooms to juggle.

  Not that she minded—the work was physically demanding but didn’t require too much thought. She would throw on her headphones and listen to audiobooks or music. Most guests were tidy, but there was always the incidental breakages and stains that got her off task.

  In room four, while vacuuming, she had noticed a big fat cockroach lying on its back in the corner and nearly hit her head on the ceiling she jumped that high. Her cheeks flamed with heat as she hoped the guests hadn’t see it, nor left a comment about it in a review.

  In Victoria, it was too cold for cockroaches. Not so here in this humid heat, she was quickly learning. She had only sprayed the place after the original renovations a few months ago. But with the continual cleaning, it made sense that the insecticides would be washed away quickly.

  As of yet, she hadn’t been able to remove the cockroach. Nothing made her cringe more. The dark colour of its wings. The long thin antennae. The spindly legs, twitching in the air as death came slowly to it. Even the thought of sucking it up in her vacuum was too much.

  Thankfully, she only had two rooms reserved for tonight, so it wasn’t an urgent matter.

  After checking-in her two new guests, Tennessee looked at her calendar. The media attention was already working to spread the word about Seaspray House. According to her online booking program, she had a thirty per cent increase in bookings over the last forty-eight hours.

  The twelve guests she needed to participate in Twelve Dates of Christmas were fully booked. If it went well this year, she hoped to expand the event next year across more days in December. Maybe even a Valentine’s Day event.

  The opposite side to all this, though, was that with more guests, came more hours she had to sink into this business, and she was already stretched thin. The added stress of that squeezed the muscles either side of her spine.

  She had never done well with pressure. Sure, she could handle long hours on set, or the demands of media and reporters. That was second nature after a decade. All she had to do was smile and pretend to be someone else—someone bright, shiny and peaceful. When it came to business, though, the farther she travelled along this bed and breakfast journey, the more she wondered if she had bitten off more than she could chew.

  For a while now, she had been temporarily using subcontracted cleaners. With such low guest rates, Tennessee couldn’t justify not doing most of the cleaning herself. But maybe it was time to organise more frequent help. Delegating more kitchen duties, including grocery shopping and budgeting to the casual cook was something she would consider after the New Year too. Matters were sure to calm down more when the maintenance was finished. The intermittent sawing, banging and clanging were making it difficult to think, let alone organise anything.

  She leant her elbows on her desk and lowered her face into her hands, rubbing her temples with her fingers. The heat of rising panic filled her chest each time she thought about how much she still had to arrange for Twelve Dates of Christmas.

  “Everything okay?” came Hayden’s d
eep voice.

  She jolted, lifted her head and met his concerned gaze. She blew out a deep breath and shook her head. “Not entirely. In a little too deep, I think.”

  He stepped closer to the desk and set down the electric drill and stack of timber he held under his arm. “How so?”

  “I’ve only ever acted. It’s all I know. And here I am trying to run this place as well as organise Twelve Dates of Christmas. I don’t even know if I’m making good progress because I may well be missing a ton of items I haven’t even thought of.” She hated that her voice cracked. Until that moment, she hadn’t realised how much this was worrying her.

  “I’m sure you’re on top of it.”

  “That’s kind of you to say, but, honestly, Hayden, I have no idea.” Her eyes glossed and a stupid tear fell onto her cheek. Where the hell had this emotion suddenly come from? She quickly wiped it away and gave a watery smile. “Sorry. I’m being my usual drama-filled self.”

  He took another tentative step forward. “Can I help you with anything?”

  She shrugged, shook her head, not sure how a carpenter would be any better at organising this event than she was. Her facial expression must have communicated as such.

  “I’ve organised building projects from start to finish. Including huge construction jobs. I’m a details guy, believe it or not. I could sit down with you and help you nut things out.”

  She giggled. “Nut things out. I like the way you phrase things.” These Queenslanders seemed to have a vernacular all of their own. “You don’t mind? I mean, if you’re too busy—”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I was too busy. How about we meet after I’m finished here for the day?”

  She nodded quickly. “I’ll tell you what, let’s go to the surf club. I’ll buy you dinner as a thank you.”

  “Deal.”

  He collected his tools and timber from the floor and headed out of the room. As usual, no more conversation than was absolutely necessary. But after three days of Hayden floating in and out, she was starting to understand that’s how he was. A man of few words.