Hawthorne Harbor Box Set

by Elana Johnson

  Adam blinked at her. “The what?”

  She gazed right back at him. “You’re the best man for Drew and Gretchen’s wedding, right?”

  Adam’s mind whirred, trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle for this line of questioning. “Yes,” he said slowly.

  “I’m the matron of honor. Gretchen and Drew are taking everyone in the wedding party for a weekend at the beach, but we all know it’s just to help them plan.” She flashed one of her brilliant smiles. In her tan face, the contrast of her white teeth really stood out. “I’m thinking I won’t even bring my bathing suit. Gretchen will have me poring over magazines and then patterns to find her perfect dress.”

  Adam got stuck on “bathing suit” and what that might entail for Janey. “When is this weekend?”

  “End of September. Cutting it really close, if you ask me.” She stood like she’d go inside and see what Jess had gotten up to. “I mean, if they want a Christmas wedding, that only leaves three months for all the preparations.”

  “As I recall, you and Matt got married after a short engagement.” He stood too, not quite sure why he’d said anything about Matt. Though it had been almost twelve years since his death, the way Janey’s face blanked, and the way she swallowed, meant his fantasies of asking her out would remain exactly that: a figment of his imagination.

  “Just three months from him asking to you saying ‘I do’, same as Gretchen, right?” Why was he still talking? And who would remember that? He cleared his throat. “I’ll keep an eye out for Jess.” He started to walk away, unable to look at Janey’s beautiful, horrified face for another moment.

  He flipped his sunglasses back into place, a shield between him and the rest of the world. Once behind the safety of his tinted windows, and with the air conditioner running, he dared to glance back to Janey’s porch. She still stood there, watching him, a peculiar look on her face. He couldn’t place what it was, but he stared at her too, memorizing the confusion and the...hope? Was that hope?

  She turned and climbed the stairs, and Adam headed back to his office at the police station. He pulled down the current Rubix cube he worked whenever his thoughts got too wrinkled and he needed to iron them flat.

  While his fingers worked the rows and columns, and his mind sorted through the colors and what needed to go where, he freed up other important brain waves that could focus on the things that eluded him.

  He had nineteen solved Rubix cubes in a variety of sizes and colorations, all in a row on the shelf behind his desk. Ten of them had been solved while he worked on particularly difficult cases as a beat cop and then a detective. A few while he debated whether he should leave Hawthorne Harbor and complete the FBI training—which he’d ultimately done. And a few more over the four years he’d been Chief of Police.

  One after Anita had left him and he didn’t leave the office for days on end. This one, he suspected, would be devoted to Janey and his rotating thoughts as he tried to figure out what to do about her.

  And a beach weekend? How in the world had he missed that?

  All the green squares lined up and he turned the Rubix cube over to find the other side a complete array of colors. He set the puzzle down and picked up his phone to call his brother.

  “Drew,” he said when he answered. “I just talked to Janey and she mentioned something about a beach weekend? How come I don’t know anything about this?”

  His brother started laughing, and Adam didn’t appreciate the gesture for the second time that day. “I told you about this weeks ago,” Drew said. “You said you’d clear your schedule.”

  Adam looked down at his desk calendar. He flipped the calendar from August to September, and sure enough, he’d reserved the third weekend in September for “personal vacation.”

  He sighed. “I swear I don’t remember talking about it.”

  “That’s because I brought over a half dozen of those cookies you like. You’d have agreed to anything.”

  Adam scoffed while Drew chuckled. “I do remember the cookies.” And the four miles he’d put on the beach the next morning to get rid of the cookies. At least he still enjoyed running to the sound of the ocean waves coming ashore.

  “Has something come up?” Drew asked. “You can make it, can’t you?”

  “Janey made it sound like you guys had disguised a weekend of work by taking us to the beach.”

  The silence on the other end of the line confirmed it, and Adam glanced up as his lieutenant poked his head into the office. “I have to go.” He hung up before Drew could say anything else and asked, “What’s up, Jason?”

  Lieutenant Zimmerman came in and sat on the couch in front of Adam’s windows. “Kristin wants you to come for dinner on Friday night.” He wore a placid look, but Adam knew what a dinner invitation at the Zimmerman’s house meant. On the weekend, no less.

  “Who else did she invite?” he asked.

  “She wouldn’t say.”

  Adam swiped the Rubix cube from his desk and started twisting like he could wring Jason’s neck the same way. “I don’t need to be set up.”

  “It’s been months since Anita.”

  He gave Jason a dark look. “I know how long it’s been.”

  “You’re grouchy when you’re not dating.”

  Adam didn’t know what to say to that, especially since Jason probably took the most flack from Adam’s bad moods. He minded the least though, if the twinkle in his eyes was any indication.

  “So just come.” He stood and knocked twice on the doorjamb. “She’s making that Brazilian steak you like.” He walked out of the office, and Adam decided he couldn’t spend the next hour doing paperwork or sitting at his desk. He rarely could contain himself behind walls if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, which was why he’d been driving by the skate park at the exact right moment that afternoon.

  He stopped at his secretary’s desk when she lifted her hand to get his attention. Sarah held the phone receiver to her ear and said, “Yes, thank you, Beth.”

  Adam’s heart skipped a beat. Beth Yardley was the director of the Fall Festival, and he’d been after her to find out the topic for this year’s cook-off. “It better not be chili again,” he said, the anticipation of what the culinary topic would be making his muscles tight.

  Sarah sighed as she replaced the receiver and met Adam’s glare head-on. She’d been a familiar face at the station for two decades—longer than him—and he appreciated her candor when he needed it, the fresh flowers on her desk in the summer, and the poinsettias at Christmastime.

  She brought pastries for birthdays, and kept everything in the department running.

  “Soups,” she finally said.

  Adam growled and smashed his hat on his head. “I’m going to patrol something.” He stalked out, his mind ping-ponging from Janey and the upcoming beach weekend and the half-dozen soup recipes he could try before entering the Fall Festival with something that could win.

  After last year’s chili debacle, he needed something to re-establish his street cred as the tough, no-nonsense Chief of Police—who also happened to be a genius in the kitchen.

  Chapter Three

  Janey found Jess in his bedroom, earbuds in, staring at his phone. All she had to do was hold out her hand, and he turned over his device. She stuck it in her back pocket without looking at it.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, sitting on the bed.

  “Did you skip school?”

  “Just last period, and it’s dumb anyway.”

  “What’s last period?” Janey wanted to tell him that he had to go to school whether he thought it was dumb or not. She’d attended many college classes she found little value in. Matt had too.

  “PE. He lets the kids do whatever after we run if we stay on the field, and the skate park is right by the school.”

  In fact, the junior high fields were just through a chain link fence to the skate park. It was practically the same lot. “Did you do the running?”


  “Yes.”

  She sighed. “Why did Chief Herrin have to bring you home then?”

  Jess’s dark eyes stormed, and Janey hardly recognized her son. “There were some guys spray painting on the building. But it wasn’t me, Mom. I swear.”

  At least he’d told her. Adam had said he couldn’t get anything out of Jess. “I believe you.” She stood. “Come on. Do you still want to go get Dixie and go out to the farm?”

  He got up and Janey noticed how tall he’d gotten. How gangly. How skinny. She brushed his hair off his forehead and for a moment, she saw the hint of her little boy. This almost-teenager was still her Jess. Her son. Almost a clone of Matt if not for Janey’s softer jaw and lighter eyes.

  “Sorry, Mom.” He hugged her, and Janey held on tight-tight, hoping he’d always come to her when he had problems.

  “You can talk to me, you know.” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “About stuff.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m going to look at everything on your phone.”

  “I know.”

  “Nothing going on there? You’re being responsible with what you say and what you’re looking at?”

  “Yes, Mom.” His tone suggested an eye-roll, so Janey just nodded. She’d look and then she’d know anyway.

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  Forty minutes later, Dixie spilled from the backseat of Janey’s Jeep, still jabbering about her day. Jess went with her, and after Dixie unceremoniously dumped her backpack on the front porch of the white farmhouse, they ran off into the lavender fields behind it.

  Janey smiled, a thought flashing through her mind. She pulled out her phone and sent Adam a text. He said he did see those kids spray painting, but that it wasn’t him.

  I’m glad he told you. Adam’s text came back quickly, and she wondered where he was, what he was doing, if maybe he’d like to come out to the lavender farm and talk face-to-face with her. But she wasn’t going to ask him that.

  Thank you for brining him home. She bit her bottom lip, wondering what to do with the weird, skippy pulse in her chest. She’d already asked Adam to keep an eye on Jess. That should’ve been enough. But strangely, Janey wanted to see Adam again. Hear his voice. He exuded comfort to her, like wrapping herself in a warm blanket.

  She searched her mind for something she could ask him, anything to keep this conversation going. Are you getting ready for the Fall Festival?

  Gretchen appeared on the porch, her gaze clearly asking when Janey would be coming in. She lifted her hand to say Just a sec and stared at her phone.

  Getting the department ready, yes. Have you heard what the topic is for the cook-off?

  Nope. She smiled just thinking about what he’d make this year. Adam entered the Fall Festival cook-off every year, and he’d won five times in the past decade alone. Last year he’d lost by less than half a point, and Janey had never seen him so crestfallen.

  Soups.

  Oh, I bet you’re good at that.

  Not really. But I guess it’s better than chili. What’s your favorite soup?

  French onion.

  French onion? Really? Fascinating.

  She giggled as if she were flirting with him. Which was ridiculous. She hadn’t flirted with a man in ages. And this was Adam.

  What’s fascinating about that? She got out of the Jeep and started toward the porch, determined not to text away the whole afternoon with Adam. After all, he wasn’t her boyfriend.

  Her phone buzzed in her hand, but she ignored it as she hugged Gretchen. “Hey,” she said. “Not working today?”

  “I’ve got Suzie in the shop two afternoons a week now.” She turned and went in the farmhouse. “It’s nice to have a few hours to get things done.”

  Her fiancé, Drew, sat on the couch, his phone a few inches from his face.

  “Do you need glasses?” she asked, about a dozen other questions piling up in her mind. He looked like a lighter version of Adam, and she realized she had access to a source about the man she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for an hour now. Was he dating anyone? Would he be interested in her? Why hadn’t he ever gotten married? He was successful in his career, smart, kind, a good cook, extremely good-looking.... So what was wrong with him?

  “Yeah, I might.” Drew dropped his phone and looked at her. “Jess out back?”

  “Yeah, I sent him with Dixie.”

  “I’ll go see if they want to go out to the wishing well.” He stood, and Janey lifted her hand.

  “Adam brought him home today.”

  Drew paused, his eyes searching Janey’s. Gretchen joined him, a united front against Janey. “Why’d he do that?” she asked.

  “I guess he was with some kids at the skate park that were vandalizing a building. It wasn’t Jess, but....” Janey sighed. “Maybe just see if Jess says anything about it and let me know?”

  Drew’s surprise melted away. “Sure thing. He’s a great kid, Janey.”

  She nodded and Drew left, and Gretchen moved into the kitchen. “You want some lemonade?” She pulled out the pitcher and got down two glasses.

  Janey sat at the bar and accepted the glass of lemonade Gretchen pushed her away. She picked a pink straw from the assortment presented to her and looked at Gretchen.

  “What if I was interested in dating again?”

  Gretchen choked and slopped lemonade over the side of her glass. She wiped her mouth and goggled at Janey. “You’ve got to give me some warning.”

  Janey smiled and shook her head as Gretchen turned to get a towel to wipe up the mess. She took a peek at her phone and found Adam’s response. It’s so sophisticated. I mean, not that you’re not sophisticated. I guess I just figured you’d like something more rustic. Like what they serve at the lodge. Beef stew. Or clam chowder.

  I do like clam chowder, she typed out as Gretchen sat beside her.

  “You’re texting him?”

  Janey didn’t look up as she finished her text. And they serve French onion at the lodge. That’s where I first fell in love with it.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Janey waited to send the message. “Soup. It’s the theme for the Fall Festival cook-off.”

  Gretchen sipped her lemonade, one eye still on the text. “Soups, huh? Seems like Adam could win that pretty easily.”

  Janey’s stomach tossed and turned. “Am I crazy if I want to go out with Adam?” By the time she finished speaking, her voice had dropped to a whisper. She tilted the phone so Gretchen could easily read the texts. “Should I ask him if he wants to come up to the lodge and try the French onion soup?”

  Her whole face heated in the few seconds it took for Gretchen to read the brief text exchange. She lifted her lemonade and gulped it, trying to cool off.

  “You both grew up here,” Gretchen said. “It would be easy to invite him up to the lodge without making it sound like a date. Then you can feel him out.”

  Nothing Adam had ever said or done had ever sent Janey the message that he was interested in her. In anyone, really. Not that she’d really paid that much attention to him and his dating habits, who he went out with, or anything to do with his love life.

  She sent what she’d already typed out and continued with You should come up to the lodge and try it. It’s good.

  She showed it to Gretchen. “Good?”

  “Totally good. It’s not an invitation to eat it with you.”

  “I work at the lodge.”

  “No, you work as a ranger at the lodge.”

  Janey rolled her eyes. “Same thing. I’m on the premises.” Janey worked with guests at the lodge one day a week, giving tours of the nearby forests and the lake. She taught environmental classes and took groups out to the tallest trees in the Olympic National Forest.

  As part of her job, she also collected samples, both water and organic, kept track of the wildlife in the park, and wrote reports on the impact of humans on the environment. She loved her work at the lodge, and she’
d put in many years working information desks before she’d been promoted to more of a environmentalist and researcher than a ranger who worked with the public.

  When’s a good time?

  She read Adam’s text out loud and looked at Gretchen with wide eyes. “What—? How do I respond to that?”

  Gretchen laughed and swiped Janey’s phone from her. “You’ve been out of the dating game for a while. Let me.” Her fingers flew over the screen, and Janey thought she’d at least get to preview the message before Gretchen sent it. But nope. She touched her thumb down in the bottom right corner of the screen, and said, “There,” before handing the phone back.

  Janey’s heart bumped and thumped as she read. The lodge is open seven days a week for lunch and dinner. If you wanted to eat with me, I’ll have to consult my schedule.

  She blinked, sure the words hadn’t been ordered properly. “Gretchen,” she said, a slight whine in her voice as her phone buzzed again.

  I want to eat with you. When’s a good time to do that?

  The breath left her body. Her fingers didn’t seem capable of holding her phone any longer, because they dropped it. “He’s just being friendly,” she said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  Gretchen picked up the phone and read the message. “It is hard to get the true feeling in a text. If you could see him, see his eyes, hear his voice, then you’d know.”

  “Know what?”

  “If he was interested in going out with you as friends, or as more.”

  More.

  The word haunted Janey for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening. She still hadn’t answered Adam by the time she sent Jess to bed and then changed into her pajamas. Her book called to her, as did the snack mix she kept concealed in the top drawer of her nightstand. Her nightly ritual of reading and snacking on pretzels and chocolate chips had been disrupted by her churning thoughts.

  “Just tell him,” she said. “Get it over with. Silence the phone. Read until you fall asleep.” Her usual routine anyway, minus the texting with a handsome man she’d been friends with her whole life.

  I don’t work Wednesdays or Mondays, she typed out. I’m not usually at the lodge during dinner either, but we can go back up one night if you want.