Cottage on Oceanview Lane (Emerald Cove Book 1)

by Lilly Mirren

  She chuckled. "Yeah, it is. I've been working out here, actually." She waved a hand at the manuscript held down by an empty coffee mug on the side table.

  His eyebrows arched high. "Well, I'd take this office over mine any day of the week. Although, I'm not sure how much work I'd get done."

  She tucked her crossed legs up on the seat of the chair, held onto her knees with her hands and studied the view. It wasn't something she'd ever take for granted. Every time she took it in, it stole her breath for a single moment with its beauty.

  Squat bushes and shrubs shuddered in the strong sea breeze. The cliff fell away, and beyond it, white-capped ocean peaks broke and sprayed, then hid themselves in the blue depths before peaking all over again. Grey clouds rolled across the sun, as if working themselves up to an afternoon thunderstorm.

  "I came here to talk," Jeremy began.

  She faced him, drawing a deep breath. What did he hope to gain? She'd told him everything she wanted to say in Sydney. Told him she didn't want to see him again. Yet here he was.

  "Okay. I'm listening."

  He sighed, reaching for her hand. "You and I are so good together. I don't know why you keep fighting the pull we have. We're never going to be able to walk away, it's too strong - the love we share. I've tried… Trust me, I've tried to get you out of my head. But I can't. It's a lost cause. We have to be together, because being apart isn't an option."

  She listened, her head cocked to one side. "Jeremy, I don't want to hurt you, but you're terrible at listening. This was one of the problems in our relationship. You decide what you want, and you go after it…"

  He frowned. "Yeah, of course I do. I know what I want, and you're it."

  "I know, I get it. And that works really well in your career - it's one of the reasons you're so successful. But in love…well, it takes two people. We both have to want it for it to work, and I don't want to be in this relationship any longer."

  He hesitated, his eyes narrowed. "Why do you keep saying that? I know you feel what I feel…"

  She shook her head. "Not anymore, Jer. I don't love you that way. I'll always care for you as a friend, as a writer, but not the way you want me to. I haven't for a long time. I thought I'd be able to work through those feelings, that we were just going through a rough patch and we'd sort it out. But it wasn't a rough patch… We're not right for each other."

  His head fell into his hands, and he stared at the timber slats beneath his feet. "Is it because of Leander?"

  Sarah's gut twisted into a knot.

  "Because if it's her, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry, and it's over anyway. So, you don't have to worry about that. It's behind us."

  She shook her head. "No, it's not because you had an affair with your intern, Jer. Well, not entirely…”

  He’d never openly admitted cheating on her before. She’d suspected a lot of the women who’d come into and out of his life over the years, but he’d always denied any allegations. Still, his words cut her even though she'd put it behind her - he'd cheated on her, he was admitting it. How could she have let their relationship continue for even a moment after something like that? She should've ended things between them a year before she had, back when her intuition first told her something was wrong.

  He raised his head, eyes glistening. "Well then, what?"

  "We're not right together. I don't love you. I don't want to marry you. And yes, I can’t trust you to be faithful.”

  "You can't walk away from what we had, Sarah. I know you, you don't mean this… You're only trying to hurt me because I cheated on you. You'll regret this… I know you will. You'll come home, and you'll wish you hadn't wasted both our time…"

  She knelt in front of him, cupped his cheeks with both hands and stared into his eyes. "I need you to hear this, Jer. It's over. I'm walking away from what we had, and you need to leave."

  His eyes darkened. He shook her hands from his face, stepped around her and strode away through the yard. The sound of his tyres spinning on the gravel was his only goodbye.

  Chapter 42

  Sarah

  Sarah lifted her legs and bent her knees, then grasped both arms around them, pulling them close. She held herself that way on the porch for a few minutes, breathing slow and steady. Intentional breaths, to ward off the tears that threatened and to loosen the lump in her throat.

  She'd done her best to be firm, to be clear with Jeremy. He was beginning to scare her, wouldn't seem to listen when she told him it was over between them. Of course, he was that way about everything - as his editor, she hated getting back to him with edits that required anything more than minor changes to his stories. He'd stand his ground and argue until she gave up and he got his way. He was stubborn, determined and difficult - but she'd seen him as charming, a champion of his own work and confident in his abilities when she'd first met him. Now, she wondered how she'd ever let herself fall for someone like Jeremy Goodall.

  "Sarah?" Mick's voice startled her from her reverie. Then she heard Oscar keening at the door.

  "I'm on the back porch!" she called. She jumped to her feet to let the dog out. He bounded around her, tail wagging as he licked her legs. She laughed, dashed the last of her tears away with the back of one hand and bent to rub Oscar's back.

  "Hey, boy. You're a funny one, aren't you?"

  Mick rounded the corner, one eyebrow arched. "Who was that burning rubber back there?"

  Her nose wrinkled. "That was my ex-fiancé."

  "Right. He seemed angry." A muscle in his jaw clenched. His eyes fixed on hers, calm, full of concern as he stepped closer. Her heart softened. "Are you okay?"

  Mick wrapped her up in his arms, and her throat tightened all over again. She inhaled a quick breath. "Yeah, I'm fine. He wanted me to come back to Sydney with him, give us another chance, and I told him no."

  Mick pulled back to look at her with a slow nod. "I'm glad to hear it."

  She sighed. "I've told him over and over that I don't want to marry him, that we're done, but he isn't the type to take no for an answer. He's pig-headed that way."

  She rubbed both hands over her face and sat on the edge of the chair. Oscar leaned into her, ears back and tail planted beside his rear end on the porch, thumping every few seconds.

  Mick sat beside her. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that…again. But it sounds to me like you made the right choice. I'd hate to be married to someone who can't hear what you're saying or doesn't respect you enough to do what you're asking them to."

  She dipped her head in agreement.

  "Of course, I'm a little biased, since I really don't want you to leave…" He cupped her cheek with one hand.

  She placed her hand on his, then stood, pulling away. "I'm not going anywhere." She opened the back door and stepped inside. "Want a cup of tea?"

  He followed. "Sounds great, thanks."

  She put the kettle on to boil and busied herself getting out cups and tea bags. He sat on one of the bamboo barstools with white cushions she'd found at another garage sale on the other side of the Cove.

  Mick was wonderful. He was everything she was looking for in a man. But Jeremy's visit had shaken her. She felt like running and hiding herself away so that she'd be safe. And Mick showing up when he had only added fuel to her growing anxiety.

  "Is everything okay?" he asked.

  She nodded. "Of course." She offered him a half smile as she poured the hot water over the tea bags.

  "I came over to talk to you about something…about us," he began.

  She set down the kettle, her heart pounding in her chest. "Okay."

  "I'm ready for more. I want to take the next step in our relationship. I want us to commit to each other - be on the same page about where this is going."

  "And where is that?" she asked, her heart thudding.

  "Love, commitment, family…" His words drifted to nothing. He watched her, eyes alert, seeming to wait for a reaction. They were deep, dark and mysterious as the ocean, boring into her, reading her t
houghts.

  She turned away with the excuse of looking for milk in the fridge. If he'd come over yesterday with those words on his lips, she'd have jumped, all-in, but now…now all she needed was some time alone.

  With the milk still swirling in the cup, she handed the tea to Mick and settled onto the stool next to him with her own and took a sip.

  "I hear what you're saying," she replied. "And I like you a lot… That doesn't really sum up my feelings. I care for you. We've known each other a long time, and yet we still don't know each other with any depth - the adult versions of ourselves, that is."

  "We haven't changed…" he interrupted, his voice smooth as he reached for her hand, caressing it with his fingertips. "I know you, the essence of who you are - you're still the girl with no fear who'd take on the fiercest wave, while laughing. You're the woman who's so beautiful she turns heads but doesn't notice…who's smart, good and kind to everyone no matter who they are. You're the same person I remember from high school, and I'm the same as well."

  She swallowed. "You knew all that about me? I thought… Well, I didn't think you knew me very well at all. It's a funny thing, the way childhood friendships exist, like deep water below the rolling waves, steady, constant, cool. When you're a kid, you surf with people, maybe play a sport, go to a dance, you think you don't know each other very well until you get out into the world and realise there were things you shared with your hometown friends that no one outside that town, that life, will ever understand in the same way. You share something profound, know the measure of people, without even realising it." She sighed. Mick smiled at her, eyes gleaming.

  "But the thing is, I feel like a very different person than who I was. Breaking up with Jeremy was hard for me. He and I spent so much time together - we worked together, we dated, we were engaged and planned on spending the rest of our lives together. But I knew it wasn't right between us. Once the haze of infatuation passed, I began to see what he was like underneath the charm, the talent, the passion, and it wasn't good."

  He nodded, his brow furrowed. "I understand."

  "I don't think I'm ready for something new, to be honest." As the words left her mouth, they tore a hole in her heart.

  He inhaled sharply. "I see."

  "I've spent the past decade obsessed with building my career, networking with all the right people, making my life into something I thought I wanted - and part of that was dating a talented, successful author with a pretty face and smooth lines. But I'm older now, I've grown so much lately, especially after what happened between my parents. It shook me, made me see more clearly the things that matter in the end. And I had to walk away from everything I'd worked so hard to create for myself. Now…now I don't know what I want. I don't even really know who I am."

  She ran a hand over her face, shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, Mick. I don't think I can give you what you want. Not now. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't be who you need me to be. I'm still trying to find my way forward after tearing my own life apart. Seeing Jeremy… It reminded me that I loved him, thought him the best man in the world for me. I was so wrong about him, I don't think I can trust myself to make the right decisions when it comes to my heart. I'm afraid… I don't want to wake up in thirty years to find my husband gone and realise I never knew him… It terrifies me to imagine making that kind of mistake."

  He stood, shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. When he turned away, the hunch of his shoulders deepened the ache in her chest.

  With a sigh, he faced her. "I get it, I guess. Although I'm not sure I like being called a mistake…or a potential mistake." A muscle in his jaw clenched; his eyes flashed. "I'm not your dad, and I don't know your ex, but I don't think we'd share much in common from what I do know of him. I care about you and want you to give us a chance. But I can see you're not ready for that. Thanks for being honest with me, even if I do think you're wrong." He ran a hand over his lips, shook his head. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to let myself out."

  "Okay." She didn't want him to leave, not like that, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. Her throat ached.

  "See you around, Sassy." He wandered out the front door, shutting Oscar into the cottage before he could dash outside. Then he was gone.

  It was dark in the cottage. Sarah leaned back on the couch, her legs crossed on the futon in front of her. She had a blanket draped over her legs, and an open carton of Chinese food sat on the side table, a pair of chopsticks jutting out at odd angles.

  The television set blared, a romantic comedy. She couldn't concentrate on the storyline, couldn't think about anything other than the way Mick had looked when he walked out the door. She shouldn't have said what she did - should've asked him for more time instead. Now, he was gone. She doubted he'd ever want to speak to her again. And she wouldn't blame him.

  With a sigh, she reached for the food, ate another bite, then set it back in its place on the table.

  Her mobile phone rang, and she answered with a brusque "hello".

  When all she heard on the other end of the line was sobbing, she straightened in a moment, her eyes wide. "Hello?"

  "It's Meg," came the response, followed by sniffling.

  "Meg, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

  Meg coughed. "No, I'm fine. I only wanted to talk. I visited Brad in Brisbane."

  "When? What happened? Is something wrong?" Sarah asked, the questions pouring from her mouth.

  "He's okay, he's with his parents. It's not that. No one's hurt. Only…I kissed him."

  Sarah relaxed, a smile dancing across her lips. "Well, that's great. Isn't it?"

  "Yeah, I thought so. But he didn't kiss me back, and he told me he doesn't love me anymore, doesn't want to be married to me." Her words ended in a wail, then were muffled by something.

  "Where are you right now?" Sarah asked as a stone formed in the bottom of her gut.

  "I'm at home. I had to work, but my boss sent me home because I couldn't stop crying. It's not like me. I'm not a crier. I never have been. I can go to a funeral and stand there with a dry face. I'm not one of those people who's so emotional, and yet today, I can't seem to stop." She sniffled again, then blew her nose.

  Sarah grimaced, pulling the earpiece away from her head for a moment, almost deafened by the blast. "Okay, I'm coming over, I'll be there in a few minutes. Do you want me to call Vicky?"

  "I already did, but she's not answering."

  "I'll try her again. Okay? See you soon." She hung up the phone then rushed to grab her coat and car keys.

  Chapter 43

  Rebecca

  "Got a tip on Thad Borseth," Franklin said as he strode past Rebecca's desk.

  She reached for her hat, shoved it on her head and followed him. "Coming!"

  Seated in the squad car, Rebecca stared out the front windshield.

  "No sirens," Franklin said. "I don't want to give this lowlife a heads-up."

  "Yes, sir."

  They'd been looking for Thad for weeks, after two of the locals had sent them video footage of the waiter defrauding a cafe owner. Cindy Flannigan said he'd been doing it for months, but she hadn't realised what he was up to. Still, the moment he caught wind of their investigation, he'd disappeared. Franklin thought he must've left the state.

  "Someone called in an anonymous tip. Turns out he's been bunking with a friend."

  "Well, how about that," Rebecca replied with a shake of her head. "We only interviewed them all multiple times, and every single one said they didn't know anything about his whereabouts."

  Franklin grunted. "I don't know what we're walking into. So, let's take it easy. We're just there to talk… That's what we'll tell him. Keep emotions steady until we know what we're dealing with."

  She nodded, even as she checked her belt, gun and taser and patted the tight vest protecting her upper body. She was ready.

  They followed the main road out of Emerald Cove south until they slowed at an intersection. Franklin turned east and headed along a na
rrow dirt track. They stopped at a gate. Rebecca climbed out to haul it open, then shut it behind them before they progressed up a steady incline and into a copse of coastal gums. The dappled light threw dancing shadows across Rebecca's arms and thighs. She watched it, then peered out the window, squinting against the afternoon sunlight as it glinted through the leaves in short bursts.

  Finally, they reached the summit and descended down the other side. The road, such as it was, petered to a stop, then a grassy track with tyre marks veered off to the right.

  Franklin pulled the car to a stop and turned it off.

  "We'll walk from here."

  She climbed out, hands tingling by her sides as her heart raced. The only thing she could hear was the distant crash of breakers against the sandy shore, hidden from view by wattle, bottlebrush and other dry, squat bushes. A seagull called, followed by another. Then, silence fell, and she could hear each puff of breath as it left her mouth and their quiet footfalls.

  The grass-covered trail curved to the right, then into a clearing where a beach shack perched on a sandy hillock.

  Franklin pointed at her, then indicated she should go around the back. With a nod, she followed his direction as he loped to the front door, hand poised above his gun.

  Her mind flashed back to the last time she'd done this - the last time she confronted a criminal at the back door to his home. She wouldn't let herself be intimidated or pushed around this time. And she wouldn't let him escape.

  She swallowed hard and drew a deep breath as Franklin pounded on the front door and called out, "Police! Open up!"

  The back door in sight, she rounded on it silently, watching, her entire body tense, waiting. He'd run that way; she knew it. A quick glance revealed a dirt bike parked against a rotten timber shed. That was what he'd want - the best way to run from the police in this part of the country was on a dirt bike on unmapped sandy tracks. No doubt Thad had his route already planned out. He had to know this day was coming.