by K B Cinder
She pushed her glasses up and smile. “That’s awesome! I sent out a social media blast, and opening day already looks like it’ll be insane. Did the mayor’s office call about the ribbon cutting yet?”
“Yes,” I grumbled, ready to run away from the subject. She’d kill me when she heard what I told the mayor what he could do with his ribbon.
“And?” she pushed. “That’s big news, Luke. The county paper wants to be here for it.”
Thousands in permits and lawyer fees made it happen, not them. “They can eat a bag of dicks. They fought me every step of the way. They can piss off trying to sell otherwise for a photo-op.”
She sighed, shoulders sagging as she rubbed between her eyes like Nan always did. “Luke, it’s a great opportunity.”
I leaned against the doorjamb. “It is for them to take credit. For me? Nope. Screw them.”
She laughed, a hand on her hip. “You’re salty today, boss.”
“Spicy,” I corrected, checking the time on my cell. I left Tally at the house, and she hated being alone for long.
Abby glanced over, raising a brow. “What?”
“Spicy,” I repeated, ready to head out to check on my pittie princess. “I’m spicy today. That’s the saying.”
She giggled with a hand on her belly, turning back to the monitor. “Is it? I’ve always heard salty.”
“Nope, it’s spicy.” I pushed off the wall, fishing keys out of my pocket. Pizza and the Red Sox game were calling my name, along with Tally, who would destroy me with kisses when I walked through the door.
“Who taught you that, old-timer?” she teased. She was only a few years shy of me at twenty-six, but she wasn’t afraid to rib me about my age.
I smiled, remembering a honey-haired girl that used to throw it my way. “Someone I used to know.”
Josie
Reason #2872 I sucked as a mom: I promised whales, and we didn’t see a single cetacean while bobbing around the Casco Bay like teabags.
Reason #2873 I sucked as a mom: I spent the entire four-hour span puking.
Not delicate puking either, if there was such a thing.
It was lean-over-the-rail-and-spew-out-breakfast puking.
All witnessed by innocent families looking on in horror as I painted the sea with bacon and eggs.
Thankfully, Liv and Alex came along, so they kept Linc occupied while the whole thing went down. My only company was the first mate, who brought me water and nausea pills.
Eventually, I did the only thing left to do: I passed out. I’d gobbled down six pills as we seesawed with the sea, thinking I’d hurled each dose.
Nope. Surprise!
They all hit at once, and it was lights out for Mother of the Year.
I woke up on my air mattress a few hours later, vaguely remembering Alex carrying me to the car, and then into the house, clocking my shin on a porch post.
Alex and Liv volunteered to watch Linc for the night at her place while I slept off the meds. Linc was all about it, her apartment offering a dog and smelling great compared to our retirement home cottage. Even with the potent aromatic oils she pumped through the place.
Once the brain cobwebs cleared, I brushed my teeth a million times and opened every window I could to air the cottage out, not going down as a crap mom without a fight. Some stuck, but the ones I pried open let in gusts of salt air, the briny bite hopefully drowning out the funk once and for all.
Then I did what any sensible adult would do: I cried. Correction, I ugly cried, the first weekend in Briar finally getting to me. I missed my friends. My condo. My neighbors.
The moving container’s arrival cut the pity party short, and I had to answer the door mid-cry. The delivery driver practically ran to his truck after getting my signature, hollering someone would be by Friday to pick it up.
As much as I wanted to continue wallowing in misery, I put on big girl pants and headed outside, relieved to have kitchen supplies again, especially a coffee pot.
Working without caffeine sucked, and if I weren’t my own boss, I probably would have already had the pitchforks out for a strike.
Box by box, I carried things in, setting them down in the tiny living room. I’d move the furniture in later as planned, but the prospect of coffee again was too tempting to wait.
Afterward, I settled into the breakfast nook with my laptop and a freshly brewed cup of French vanilla happiness, my latest design almost complete. It took longer than most since paranormal wasn’t usually my thing. In the end, I loved the final product, one of my favorites so far.
As I checked in to the next project, a knock sounded at the door, plummeting my heart to my stomach. In San Diego, surprise visitors were no big deal, but living out on the inlet, they were terrifying. Especially in a creepy old house.
I was full of it when I told Linc it wasn’t scary. Being home alone amplified its creep factor, and if Linc suddenly had an imaginary friend that sounded remotely like a ghost, we were running out of there faster than you could say “ghosts aren’t real.”
I checked the time, seeing it was just after four, so it was probably Dan checking how we settled in. He seemed like a nice guy, though I wasn’t a fan of him hitting on me when I picked up the cottage keys. There were a time and a place for flirting, and it sure as hell wasn’t with my son next to me.
We weren’t in the same circle in school, but I saw him when I spent time at my second home across the street. I pounced on the opportunity when he replied to my Facebook post asking about Briar rentals, excited to live somewhere outside of town, blissfully unaware of the past still lingering nearby.
I yanked open the front door, needing nearly all my strength to budge it, revealing the very past I wanted to forget. A gray tee stretched across a broad chest, weathered jeans skimming powerful thighs.
“Need help?” he asked, a muscled arm perched on the door frame like Briar’s own tattooed to high-hell Gaston.
“With what?” I gripped the doorknob, ready to slam it in his face àla Belle. He had a lot of nerve showing up at my door.
“Carrying things inside.” He gestured at the moving container in the driveway, the hunk of white metal unmistakable.
“Nope.” I didn’t want him touching anything or coming in my house. I’d already scrubbed Luke Barrett from every inch of my life.
“I saw furniture...” he trailed, narrowing his eyes as he called my bluff. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
What the hell? He was watching me? Talk about needing to move, pronto.
“My parents are coming to help.”
“You’re going to make old people lift furniture?” he asked, raising a brow. “Isn’t that elder abuse?”
His lips twisted, the pale line slashing to his chin all-too-obvious, a reminder of our last night together. Just looking at it turned my stomach, remembering the battered face of the boy I loved.
The boy who betrayed me.
“They want to help,” I lied, looking away. I practically had to twist Dad’s arm to get him to agree, but Mom was happy to entertain Linc while Dad, Alex, and I moved things in.
“That doesn’t mean you should let them.” He ran his free hand through his beard, eyes softening. “Especially not Trish.”
I sighed, not about to be lectured on morality by a liar. Him just saying my mother’s name kicked up rage. “Is that all?”
He flinched, pulling his arm from the doorjamb to stand straight, looming above. “What?”
“Is that all you need? I’m busy.”
I kept my eyes on the water behind him, retreating to my safe space. Looking at him coiled my stomach in knots, and I wasn’t sure if it was anger or attraction, making me hate him ten times more.
“I’m offering help, and you’re getting spicy with me?” he shot back. “Last I checked, that’s rude, Josie.”
So was blaming your misdeeds on someone else.
“I don’t need your help.” Nor did I need his scent wafting over, another uninvited guest disrup
ting my peace, a mix of smoke, denim, and man.
“Sure, you don’t.” He crossed his arms, seeming to double in size in an instant, the limbs rippling with muscle. I knew he’d never hurt me, physically at least, but the sheer mass of him screamed danger, as did his eyes.
A nervous jolt flicked through my belly, desperate to have space between us and air to breathe that wasn’t drenched in Luke. “I’m fine.”
His eyes met mine, the enchanting blue well on its way to whisking me under its spell. “Your eyes are red. Allergies?”
“Something like that.” I was allergic to the crap life was throwing my way. Particularly the towering figure standing on my front porch.
“Mrs. Sutton was never one for dusting,” he noted, shifting his weight between feet. “Just in case it makes you upset, you’re more than welcome to sit on my dock. It’s nice and smooth –no splinters.”
God knows the rickety old dock gave us more than our share of them when we were younger, so much so we kept an old tarp handy to sit on.
“I’m sure your dock is nice and smooth, but I don’t need to sit on it to feel better.”
I was a terrible liar.
That dock was my saving grace as a teenager. We talked through our pain on its planks, finding solace in one another and the water. It was the one place I was at home, other than at his Nan’s kitchen table, chatting while she French-braided my hair or taught me the latest recipe she’d found in Good Housekeeping.
He grinned, firing a wink my way. “Sitting on my dock makes everything better.”
A pop of red behind him caught my eye, Dan’s corvette pulling in to park behind my Explorer.
Talk about bad luck.
I sighed, reluctantly stepping onto the porch beside Luke and shutting the door. I wouldn’t chance Dan thinking he was welcome inside. He’d already proven to be someone who didn’t understand boundaries.
“Hey there, Josie!” he called, sliding out of the sports car with a wide smile, one that faded as his eyes fell on Luke. “Oh, and hi to you too, Luke!”
Luke offered a grunt and a nod, remaining planted where he stood.
“I was driving through the area and saw the storage container. Need help moving anything, sweetie?” Dan strolled over, his slender arms swinging.
“We’re almost done,” Luke declared coolly before I could say anything.
Dan glanced between us but kept coming, stopping at the base of the porch, crisp and clean in his pressed khakis compared to the battered denim wrapped around Luke.
No one drove our way without meaning to, but I kept my mouth shut and a friendly smile plastered on my face. “Thank you, Dan. I appreciate the offer, but Luke’s right: I’m almost finished unpacking.”
Dan parked his hands on his hips, riding his polo up to expose a polished leather belt. “Well, let me help. Leave the heavy lifting to us men.”
Luke seemed to inflate beside me. “Thanks, but the man has it covered.”
“The man?” Dan cocked his head, sneering.
“Don’t mind him,” I interjected, swatting at Luke’s chest, hitting solid muscle. I wasn’t in the mood to watch the two get in a pissing contest; I had work to do. “He’s an ogre.”
“She was about to sit on my dock,” Luke informed, a grin cutting through his beard, a surprise pop of playfulness glossing over the undercurrent of aggression. “She hasn’t sat on it in a long time.”
I whirled to face him, suddenly catching onto his little dock innuendo. As if I would ever.
Dan turned, studying the pier behind Luke’s property in the distance. “You do have a nice dock over there. Can I sit on it?”
Luke chuckled, shaking his head, long locks dragging along his shoulders. “Sorry. Women only.”
Dan huffed, “Well, that’s sexist.”
I smacked Luke again, not sure how much longer I’d be able to contain the laughter that trampled over my anger.
Dan continued to look between us, frowning. “Where’s Logan?”
“Lincoln,” I corrected. “He’s with Olivia.”
“Date night?” Dan turned his attention back to Luke, eyeing him up, lips pulled tight.
I shook my head furiously. “No, not at all. Luke dropped by for the same reason you did.”
A smirk replaced his frown. “Well, let us finish moving everything, sweetie.”
“Dan, I’m fine,” I insisted. “I was just telling Luke the same thing.”
“Don’t be silly. I’d be honored to help.” He went to come up the stairs toward us, but Luke stepped forward, blocking his path.
I cleared my throat, desperate to get a handle of the situation that was quickly spiraling out of control. “I have work to finish- ”
Luke took off down the steps and blew passed Dan, the sudden movement of the large man more than jarring. He bounded over to the storage container, opening the heavy sliding door with ease, not a full-body extension as I’d needed.
“Almost done my ass!” he hollered, disappearing into the metal bin before I could object.
I hurried off the porch, wincing as I did, the knot on my shin from earlier more tender than I cared to admit. “Luke, I said I’m fine!”
I just wanted to finish my work for the night while I had free time. I didn’t need two wannabe alphas fighting over playing the hero.
He ignored me, appearing with my ivory headboard over his shoulder, the queen-sized monstrosity not phasing him. It took two people to load the damn thing while he didn’t break a sweat, balancing the delicate piece high above.
The stark contrast between the pristine upholstery and the gritty man reminded me of why he was bad news, though it didn’t block out how good his muscles looked while carrying it, biceps bulging.
“Where to, Joey?” he asked, using the nickname I always hated, one he’d given me from the start.
“My bedroom,” I replied, shoulders sagging in defeat. Some good things could come out of their help. For one, I wouldn’t have to deal with Dad, and Linc and I would have our own beds again. It beat sleeping on an air mattress.
“Obviously,” he grumbled. “But do you mind telling me where that is?”
“Straight back to the left.”
“You took the smaller room?” Dan asked, eyes wide.
I wanted to whack him over the head with common sense, but I couldn’t. Clearly, he didn’t have kids. “Yes.”
“Huh, I figured the loft would be more your style. It has beautiful views. It’s the selling point of the house.”
Luke disappeared inside, the screen door slamming behind him in the distance, making me jump.
“Yes, my son loves it up there,” I lied.
He was actually petrified of it, but I didn’t want to share anything about us with him.
Once Luke was out of sight, Dan was back to checking me out like he had when I picked up the key with Linc, teeth sunk in his lower lip.
I fled to the storage container, not sure I could carry any of it by myself but unwilling to stand there a second longer while he helped himself to my body with his eyes.
I grabbed my office chair, pushing it along, deciding I’d figure out how to maneuver it inside once I got to the porch. Its steel frame was heavy as hell, but I’d find a way.
Dan rushed behind, following close at my heels. “Let me help you with that!”
I ignored him, pushing it along over the gravel and onto the sidewalk. Dan stayed close, not once reaching for the chair. He didn’t want to help move furniture; he wanted me alone.
Luke appeared, plucking the chair from my grasp without a word, turning towards the house again, not even grunting at its weight.
When I went to head back to the container, Dan was already rushing over, popping in and reappearing a moment later with Linc’s headboard. He was struggling, dangerously close to dropping it, a fall that wouldn’t end well for the lightweight plank piece.
I flew to his side, grabbing the other end, desperate to save it. “You don’t need to do this,” I a
ssured, letting him lead the way. “Luke and I can take care of it.”
He ignored me, quickening his pace, practically dragging me along towards the house.
We passed Luke on the way in, the two men side by side for a moment. The difference was stark, Dan’s clean-cut ways nothing like the burly bearded ones of Luke, his exposed arms covered in ink while Dan’s were milky white. The size variation was more troubling; Luke’s build was more extraordinary when compared to another man.
I struggled up the porch steps and inside while Dan shuffled along, the screen door clicking loudly behind me, smacking hard into my ass with a thump. “We’ll leave this here.” I gestured to the right, ready to leave the headboard in the living room. I wanted him out of the house as soon as possible.
“Isn’t Landon’s room upstairs?” he asked.
“It’s Lincoln,” I growled. “I’ll take care of it.”
If he kept up his crap, we’d be moving sooner than I thought, and surprisingly not because of Luke Barrett.
“Nonsense,” he muttered, leaving me trailing at the other end of the headboard as he hurried towards the stairs. It felt like I was bearing the brunt of its weight; my side was hauled high while he barely skimmed the floor.
The journey upstairs wasn’t any easier, and I could hear Luke making trip after trip downstairs before we reached the top. We rested the headboard against the far wall, beside the air mattress Linc refused to sleep on, not that I minded sharing mine with him downstairs.
I wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be down for cuddles. He was already calling me “mom” once in a while, ripping my heart in two. I wanted to be Mommy forever.
Dan scanned the space, eyes glossed. “This was Mother’s room when I was young. We switched when I was in high school. I have so many great memories up here.”
“That’s nice. I hope Lincoln makes some too.” I forced a smile, keeping things cool.
Anyone that called their mom Mother was too creepy for my liking, but I was glad he had happy memories in the space. It was a sunny loft with a bay window facing the sea, a calm blue shade coating the walls.
