Hawthorne Harbor Box Set

by Elana Johnson

  “Still unhappy to be in Hawthorne Harbor, I see.” Bennett saw the punch his words carried as Jennie flinched, her face contorting for a moment before she smoothed it back to normal.

  She opened her mouth to say something—another insult, no doubt—and burst into tears instead.

  Chapter Two

  Jennie Zimmerman was in fact, not happy to be back in Hawthorne Harbor. And to have Bennett Patterson right there in front of her? A witness to her creative madness. Judging how she’d plugged in her appliances.

  And now watching her cry like a fool.

  She tried to school her emotions but they’d been on a yo-yo for weeks now.

  Months, she thought. Six months, to be exact. Six months today since her fiancé had not shown up at the altar, leaving Jennie standing at the end of the aisle, her hand clutching her father’s arm, desperately hoping he’d come out any moment.

  Well, he hadn’t. And Jennie hadn’t seen him again at all.

  “You really can’t plug six things into an outlet meant for two,” the older of the two firemen said. Jennie knew his name; she just couldn’t think of it.

  He held up the surge protector she’d been using. “That kiln is way more than any of these can take. It needs a special outlet with the right voltage.” He wore a very serious look, and when Bennett joined him as a united front against her, Jennie finally seized onto her anger enough to ebb the flow of tears.

  “Fine,” she said.

  “Charles,” Bennett said, putting his ridiculously huge hand on his partner’s.

  The two men exchanged a glance and Charles left with the ruined surge protector. Was he going to bag it for evidence?

  She’d gotten the fire out herself. Nothing had been too damaged, and there had been no public threat.

  “He’ll cut the electricity to your studio until you fix the outlet,” Bennett said. He seemed sorry. Sort of. Jennie couldn’t really tell. He’d always worn his emotions behind a mask, never letting anyone see how he felt.

  But Jennie had figured out how to get him to take that mask off. Say all kinds of things. Reveal how he truly felt, what he thought, all of it.

  Yeah, she thought, staring at him. And then you left without even saying goodbye.

  Her biggest regret so far.

  “I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “You call an electrician,” he said, starting to step past her.

  “Wait.” She put her hand on his arm, but the fire suit was way too thick. Still, he paused, looking at her hand and then into her face.

  A surge of power seemed to jump from him to her. Or her to him. She again wasn’t sure. Jennie was unsure of almost everything these days.

  “What?” he asked, his voice soft but teeming against his impatience. At least that hadn’t changed about him.

  Everything else had, though. He’d grown at least three more inches, and firefighting obviously did a body good, because his shoulders filled out his fire suit spectacularly.

  She’d always liked that he was bald, and with the thick, black beard he wore with it? Jennie had trouble swallowing, blinking, breathing.

  “Are you okay?” He peered closer at her. “I can call an ambulance.”

  “I don’t need an ambulance.”

  “There isn’t a car out front.”

  “I don’t own a car.”

  “Did you inhale any smoke?”

  She shook her head. “I told you, I got the fire out in seconds. The window was open.”

  He gave one nod and dropped his gaze to her hand, which still sat on his forearm.

  “Aren’t you an electrician?” she asked.

  Those eyes—dark and dreamy and dangerous to her health—turned sharp and hard.

  “I never finished,” he said. “Excuse me.”

  Jennie turned and watched him stride out of her art studio, never looking back once.

  Everything inside her caved in, and she slumped against the nearest table. What a night this had turned into.

  She’d just come into the studio to get her piece into the kiln. Then she’d been planning to maybe do a little bit of the painting Mabel had asked for.

  A huge project, the painting was almost a mural, and Mabel wanted it to fill an entire wall in the west wing she was renovating.

  Jennie had been grateful for the work. She’d left her studio in San Francisco after the failed wedding, because Kyle the fiancé was the manager of her space.

  She simply couldn’t come face-to-face with him every day and stay sane. So while she hadn’t wanted to return to her hometown, without a studio, or any other job prospects, she hadn’t had much choice.

  She left her art behind and went back through the house to the front porch, where the firefighters stood talking to one another.

  The crowd on the lawn had dispersed, thankfully, and Jennie asked, “So is there anything else I need to do?”

  Both men trained their eyes on her, and Jennie wilted under Charles’s and wanted to bask in the heat from Bennett’s.

  Heat?

  She startled at the thought. She was in no position to start another relationship, and certainly not with the high school flame she’d abandoned over twenty years ago.

  Nope. Not happening.

  “I’ve cut power to your studio for now,” Charles said. “We can give you the names of some great electricians. They’ll get you back up and running once everything is in compliance.”

  Jennie cringed at the last word. She didn’t want to be compliant. Not anymore.

  Charles walked away, leaving Bennett to stare at her.

  “And you might want to clean that place up a little,” he said. “Honestly, Jennie, it looks like a crime scene.”

  She expected him to laugh, but he didn’t. She tried to find a tease in the words, but there wasn’t one.

  “Oh, I forgot,” she said, a measure of sarcasm in her voice. “You’re Mister Organized.”

  He shook his head, finally a small smile gracing that powerful mouth. She willed herself not to think about kissing him, but her memories were too huge, too powerful, to hold back.

  “One of us had to be, sweetheart.” With those as parting words, he left her standing on the front porch. Her heart dangled from a string inside her chest, nowhere near ready to take on another man. Especially one as gorgeous, as stubborn, and as broken as Bennett Patterson.

  * * *

  “What do you mean, your studio is shut down?” Pepper Howard slid a cup of tea across the table to Jennie, then set another one in front of an empty seat. So Callie would be coming.

  Pepper ran her fingers through her short, mohawked hair before lifting her coffee to her lips. How anyone drank that stuff, Jennie didn’t know.

  “By order of the fire marshal,” she said. “Or something.” She actually had no idea what Charles was. All she knew was that he was powerful enough to shut her down. Bennett wasn’t a marshal. She didn't have power in her studio, but her house and Internet worked just fine. So she’d spent some time looking him up.

  She knew more about him than she probably should, and she was going to keep that to herself during this impromptu breakfast initiated by Pepper.

  “What are you going to do about the pieces?”

  “I’ll get them done.” Jennie waved her hand like she could conjure up a new outlet as easily. “So what are we doing here, Pepper? It’s barely eight.”

  The rest of the crowd seemed to swell in and rush right back out, like waves against the shore. People with nine-to-five jobs, something neither she nor Pepper had.

  Callie did, though, and as she huffed and sat, she said, “Whew. There is nowhere to park out there.” She glanced at Jennie and then Pepper, a smile lighting up her pretty face. “Is this for me?” She wrapped her fingers around the teacup as if it were winter in Hawthorne Harbor and not the height of the hottest time of the year.

  “We’re here this early, because I have some news.” Pepper fiddled with her hair again, prolonging the moment.

 
; Jennie deliberately didn’t take another sip of her tea.

  “Oh, go on,” Callie said. “You’re killing us.” She nudged Jennie with her elbow and Jennie nodded solemnly.

  She couldn't hold the look long, and broke into a grin. “It’s about Hunter, right?”

  “We went ring shopping on Wedding Row last night!” Pepper practically yelled the last couple of words, drawing the attention of a couple of men wearing suits and gripping coffee cups like their very lives depended on the caffeine inside.

  Callie squealed like a stuck pig, and while Jennie congratulated her friend and laughed and smiled and acted interested in the pictures on Pepper’s phone, all she could think was, Good luck getting down the aisle.

  She settled down first, taking another careful sip of her tea though it was already too cool for her taste.

  The door behind her opened, and she glanced toward the men that entered. She almost spit out her tea at the sight of Charles and Bennett—oh, my Bennett—walking toward the counter to order.

  He wore a pair of jeans that disappeared into a heavy-duty pair of work boots and a T-shirt that said Hawthorne Harbor Fire Department splashed across the chest.

  The arms needed to be taken out, because wow, the man had biceps for days.

  “Are you okay?” Callie’s question cut through Jennie’s stupor, and she hastily reached for the napkin Pepper had extended toward her.

  She wiped the drips of tea from her lips, wondering why her heart had started rapid-firing in her chest in such a strange way.

  “Is that Bennett Patterson?” Callie asked, pushing her hair over her shoulder.

  “He’s off-limits,” Pepper said quickly, her eyes landing on Jennie’s for a moment.

  “Oh?” Callie looked away from the two men putting in their order. “Why? We don’t like him?”

  Pepper nodded toward Jennie. “One of her exes.”

  Callie hadn’t grown up in town, and she’d had no trouble getting a date—at least according to Pepper, who’d been friends with her for a few years.

  Jennie was just barely back in town, and it had been hard enough reopening her friendship with Pepper. She hadn’t warmed to Callie as easily as she might have if she’d been more functional, but Jennie knew she definitely didn’t want Bennett and Callie to go out.

  “Oh, was it bad?” Callie’s bright blue eyes searched Jennie’s.

  “She’s still interested in him,” Pepper said, making Jennie suck in a tight breath. “So he’s off-limits until she figures things out.”

  “I’m not still interested in him,” Jennie hissed as he turned, his to-go cup of coffee clutched in one hand while a large slab of banana bread balanced in the other.

  “You’ve never said as much, but you don’t date,” Pepper said.

  Jennie had a reason for that. Just because she hadn’t told anyone—not a single soul—in Hawthorne Harbor what it was didn’t make it any less valid.

  Bennett’s eye caught hers, and he lifted the banana bread as if that meant hello.

  Jennie’s eyebrows shot up, especially when he started navigating through the tables toward her instead of just going toward the exit after Charles.

  “Hey,” he said, positioning himself next to her. “Did you get that email I sent over?”

  “I haven’t had time to look,” she said coolly, wondering how she could ever truly look him in the face again. After what she’d done all those years ago, and then after bursting into tears last night.

  He didn’t seem to carry any of the awkwardness with him that he’d had last night, and his gaze flickered to Pepper and then Callie.

  “Well, check when you can,” he said. “It’s got all the electrician information.” His eyes settled on her again, and the weight of them felt like a load of lead.

  “Thanks,” she said, barely glancing up. Not enough to truly lock her gaze onto his. If she did…everyone in the coffee shop would knew that yes, she was still interested in him.

  “See you later. Hey, Pepper.”

  “Bennett.”

  The man walked away, and finally Jennie was able to take a decent breath. The lingering scent of his cologne filled her nostrils, and she wished she’d had the willpower to hold out a little longer.

  She lifted her teacup to her lips, ignoring Callie when she said, “I see what you mean, Pepper.” She cleared her throat and tossed her hair. “So he’s off-limits. Who else looks interesting?”

  Chapter Three

  Bennett couldn’t stop thinking about Jennie Zimmerman. She’d turned up twice in his life in the past twenty-four hours, and he wondered if maybe it was a sign.

  Or something.

  He didn’t really believe in signs. Didn’t spend a lot of time in church, or thinking too hard about things.

  When Jennie had left town two days after her high school graduation, Bennett had been…upset. That word seemed to fit as well as any others he could think of.

  He and Jennie hadn’t been terribly serious, though he was a couple of years older than her and had dated her even after he’d left high school and started into some trade professions.

  He hadn’t finished his electrician training, but he had become a master carpenter and a firefighter after she’d left town.

  He knew she hadn’t liked the small town lifestyle, but he’d been hoping some of their last conversations—about marriage and family and a beach house down the lane from her parents—would turn into reality.

  His reality had taken him down a completely different road, and it sounded like Jennie didn’t know anything about it.

  Why he wanted to get together with her and tell her all about it, he couldn’t fathom. She hadn’t even been nice last night.

  But the tears were a dead giveaway of her stress—her distress. For the Jennie Zimmerman he’d known growing up never cried. Never.

  She disliked coffee, and as he followed the chief around as he inspected every shelf and each tiny space for dust or lint, Bennett liked that at least that hadn’t changed about Jennie.

  Little had, actually. She still had those aquamarine eyes that pulled at him to come closer, hold tighter, kiss longer. That same long, blonde hair that swished around her waistline. Her love of tea. And Pepper Howard at her side.

  He hadn’t recognized the other woman at the table, but he didn’t much care who she was. Bennett seemed to only have eyes for Jennie—again.

  “Looks good, boys,” Chief Harvey finally said, and Bennett breathed a sigh of relief. The ribs had been magnificent last night, and then there was the brief fire scare at Jennie’s. And with the cleaning, Bennett’s long shift for the month had actually gone quickly.

  “Someone here for you,” Charles said, and the chief turned. “Oh, for Bennett.” Charles ducked back out the door toward the front of the firehouse, while Bennett’s imagination went nuts.

  Maybe it was Jennie, stopping by to profess how she’d never gotten over him, even after all these years.

  He shook his head to clear it. He wasn’t even looking for a relationship at the moment. In fact, he’d turned down the last three women who’d asked him out. Best thing about a small town? Word had gotten around that he wouldn’t say yes, and the girls had stopped asking completely.

  He didn’t need a girlfriend. He had Gemma. And Uno. And his friends at the station, one of whom happened to be his boss and was staring at him.

  “Are you going to go see who it is?” Chief Harvey asked.

  “Yes.” Bennett sprang toward the door. “Yes, I am.” He stepped into the outer lobby to find old Mabel Magleby standing there.

  “Mabel?” he asked, glancing around as if Jennie might be hiding behind the petite woman who had to be close to ninety years old.

  “There you are,” she said with a definite hint of grumpiness in her tone. “Thought you might be napping.”

  He chuckled and came around the counter where Charles sat filling out some paperwork from last night’s adventure.

  “Nope, not napping. What can I h
elp you with?”

  “You said you’d come help demolish the west wing.”

  Demolition of a house or project was almost better than rebuilding it. “Of course. Are you ready for that already? I thought you needed to meet with…someone.” He couldn’t really remember the details. The older woman had stopped him at the Lavender Festival last month to ask him about doing some work on the Mansion she owned and operated.

  He’d had his sights set on the winning lavender brownies and had agreed with her quickly so he could slip away before the treat was all gone.

  “I’m ready,” she said in a sure voice. Her hands shook the slightest bit. “What’s your schedule like?”

  “I’m off for the next couple of days,” he said, shooting a glance at Charles. “Should I come out tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow’s fine.” Mabel wore a frown but she patted his hand and shuffled toward the door. “Not too early. I’m old these days and need my beauty sleep.” She opened the door and stepped into the evening. Once the door snapped closed again, Bennett let his laugh fly free.

  “She’s a character,” he said to Charles, who laughed with him.

  “Yeah.” He watched the door for a moment. “Wonder what’ll happen to Magleby Mansion when she passes.”

  Bennett fell silent with the sobering thought. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “She has no kids,” Charles said. “Maybe a neice or nephew will take it over.”

  “Maybe.” Bennett went to get his bag and get ready to go home. “I’m taking Uno for a couple of days, remember?”

  “Yep. Got it.” Charles didn’t look up from his work.

  Bennett leashed Uno and grabbed his stuff, loading everyone and everything up in his truck. “Want to run today, boy?” He glanced at the dog like he would answer back.

  “No? You’re young. Gemma will go, and she’s starting to go gray around her mouth.” He continued his one-sided conversation with Uno as he drove out of town and toward Bell Hill. He didn’t live in town anymore, but on the outskirts of Hawthorne Harbor.