“But overwhelming. And, sorry, I’m about to introduce you to more.” Ashley stopped at a cacophony of blankets placed side by side and occupied by a few dozen younger adults who were talking and laughing together.
“Hey, guys.” Cupping her hands around her mouth, Ashley raised her voice. “Listen up. This is Bella, a friend of mine who’s visiting from out of town.”
The whole gang stopped what they were doing and shouted a round of hellos.
“Nice to meet you, everyone.”
By this time, the sun had fully disappeared, floodlights illuminating the edges of the park. A suave older man tapped on a microphone set off to the side of the big screen. “If everyone would find their seats, the movie is about to start.”
“You and Ben, wherever he is, can sit here.” Ashley plopped next to Shannon, who was busy talking to someone else, and Bella sat beside Ashley, leaving just enough space for Ben between her and a blond woman. She was holding hands with a muscular guy similar looking to Ben.
The woman glanced her way. “Ah, another outsider.”
“Excuse me?”
“You had a bit of a wide-eyed look about you. I get it. We’re surrounded by Bakers. It takes a little getting used to their number.” The blonde smiled back at the man, who was engaged in another conversation. “I’m Gabrielle Wakefield.” A one-carat white-gold ring on her fourth finger winked in the lamplight.
“Ah. I’m Bella. So, you’re marrying into the family?”
Her fiancé swung his head their way. “In two long months.” He kissed Gabrielle’s cheek then stuck out his hand toward Bella. “Tyler Baker. Ashley’s cousin.”
She shook it. “Nice to meet you both.”
“You’re here with Ashley?”
“Um, kind of.”
Just then Ben lowered himself to the ground. “Hey, sorry to leave you to the wolves.” He turned toward Tyler, who was looking between Bella and Ben, grinning. “What’s up, man? Hey, Gabrielle.”
Microphone feedback squawked through the speakers as the man up front adjusted it. “Welcome to Al Fresco Night. For those who don’t know me, I’m Mayor Jim Walsh, and I’d like to thank you for your patronage. Remember, 10 percent of all food purchases go toward our earthquake relief fund. We’re all in this together.”
Beside her, Ben huffed.
She leaned in. “Not a fan?”
“That’s Evan’s dad. He’s . . . well, let’s just say that those of us who know him well enough always take what he says with a grain of salt.”
The mayor droned on about the importance of continuing to act like a real community, pulling together in times of trial.
“How did he get elected then?” Bella angled her face next to Ben’s ear so he could hear her. Her skin buzzed at their proximity.
“Guess he fooled enough people.” He shrugged. “But from what Evan has told me, he’s willing to cut corners when necessary as long as it gets him what he wants.”
Just like her mom.
Mom, who would surely pull Bella from the field if she knew how her heart was deviating from the mission.
Bella fidgeted with the sleeve of her cardigan, which she was grateful to have worn, considering the chill that had just come over her.
“Are you cold?”
And before she could answer, he was unzipping his sweatshirt.
“Stop. You’ll be cold then.”
The movie’s opening credits rolled, and the din of the crowd fell away.
“I’ll be fine.” He looped the hoodie around her shoulders, and the smell of him surrounded her. Not just the clean shampoo but a tiny hint of coffee and some sort of spicy cologne he must wear sometimes.
Her toes curled.
“Thanks.” Bella looked up into Ben’s eyes. An intensity burned there—something hidden behind his gaze.
He started to pull his arm away, but Bella reached up to grab his hand. Their gazes still connected, he flexed his hand inside hers for a moment. Her heart hammered in her throat.
Abort. Abort!
But then Ben tightened his hold, drawing her closer until her head rested against him. Not saying a word, he twined their fingers together.
And she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped as her whole body relished being cocooned and safe in someone’s arms. But not just anyone’s arms. The arms of the man who had, somehow, begun to change her perspective.
Being out among this community, feeling the goodwill and the kindness in the air, Bella knew Ben was right. This town didn’t need a huge resort like the one Mom wanted to build. The flood of tourists and traffic, the inevitable chain restaurants and shops that would follow—they would take the charm of the place and destroy it. Change it, at the very least.
And not one thing about this place needed to change.
Something settled in her empty gut. Something hard and pointy but solid and . . . right. Bella knew what she had to do.
Chapter 7
Had last night really happened?
Ben pocketed his keys as he left the parking lot that divided the South Village from the North Village on Main Street. The sky was clear of clouds, the sun beat down a jaunty tune, and the rich memory of last night’s movie in the park drifted on the breeze.
Not just the way he’d held Bella close, stroking his thumb across the top of her hand, reveling in the feel of her, the smell of her flower-scented hair, the bond over shared moments of laughter during the comedy playing out on the big screen.
But also the way his chest had tightened when he’d seen her hugging his mom, talking with his sister, getting introduced to his million and one cousins—and handling it all like a boss, with no hint of intimidation or the desire to flee.
It was so different from Elena, who had constantly tried dragging him away from his family. Who’d wanted to move away from Walker Beach after having been “trapped” there for most of her life.
OK, so maybe his judgment had been off when he’d selected Elena as a wife. But given what he’d seen last night—what he’d seen since he met Bella, really—he could sense that maybe, just maybe, she was different.
Dense as it sounded, he hadn’t even known until last night that he’d started to develop real feelings for her. Not just a slight flirtation or physical attraction, but . . . well, he didn’t know what.
While passing a billboard on his way toward the hardware store, a bright purple flier for the Olallieberry Festival happening a week from today caught his attention. He’d nearly forgotten about the annual town event—unsurprising given all the havoc wreaked by the earthquake. All of Walker Beach plus a ton of tourists from surrounding cities attended the festival, which featured craft, jewelry, and art vendors as well as live music and tons of delicious olallieberry treats.
Could make a nice first date.
The thought popped into his mind so suddenly that Ben stumbled. As he picked up walking again, the idea stewed and simmered.
Sure, they’d had a nice time last night, but she didn’t live in Walker Beach. In fact, she was as big city as they came. Used to the finer things in life. And there was still so much he didn’t know about her.
But maybe asking her out was the way to find out if this . . . something . . . could ever lead anywhere.
He’d have to think on it some more. But . . . maybe.
At the southern tip of Main Street, just before the beachfront golf course took over the landscape, Hole-in-the-Wall Hardware came into view. A bell jangled as he entered the store and waved at Chrissy Price.
“How’s my favorite innkeeper?” The forty-something shop owner smiled, but something wasn’t quite right about it. Or maybe it was the sunken cheeks, the bags beneath her eyes, the way she slumped on her stool behind the big oak register, that were wrong. The headscarf covering her bald head featured lemons and pitchers of lemonade. Its bright blues and yellows matched the rest of the store.
Ben maneuvered past a few other residents browsing the shelves. “I’m all right. And how’s my favorite babysit
ter?” Chrissy was only fifteen or so years older than Ben and, like him, had lived in Walker Beach her entire life. She was a staple in the town, and the thought she might not be here much longer was a shot in the heart of the entire community.
Chrissy’s jolly laugh dissolved into a cough.
Before Ben could find her some water, Aunt Jules strode from the back with a water bottle. “I thought I was your favorite babysitter. And here.” She shoved the bottle into Chrissy’s hand. “I still think you should be at home resting.” She and Chrissy had been best friends for as long as Ben could remember.
“I’ll rest when I’m dead, Jules.” Chrissy’s eyes twinkled despite her morbid joke.
“Don’t say that.” Jules’s voice wavered.
Ben had always thought of his aunt as the strongest of her siblings, the most determined, the most independent, but it was easy to see that strength falling away in the face of a situation she didn’t have any control over.
Ben cleared his throat. “Well, hey, I need to snag a new air compressor so I can start fixing my roof. I know you have great people in your corner already, but let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, Chrissy.”
“Thank you, Ben. I’m blessed, that’s for sure.” Chrissy’s eyes crinkled. “I heard the damage was pretty bad up your way. I hope it’s nothing serious.” She took a swig from her water.
“Nothing Ben can’t fix, right?” Aunt Jules winked at him and folded her arms over her chest. “Although from what I saw last night, there may be a little distraction that could delay his progress.”
Great. The Walker Beach rumor mill probably already had him and Bella married less than twenty-four hours after she’d attended an event with him.
“Ooo. Do tell.” Chrissy leaned forward.
He shook his head. “Nothing to tell.”
But Aunt Jules waved aside Ben’s protest. “A woman, his date last night. Met her and liked what I saw so far. And I really liked seeing Ben so happy.”
“Aw, that’s so wonderful. Ben, you deserve to be happy.”
“Aunt Jules is exaggerating. Bella was not my date. Ashley invited her.”
“Don’t you call me a liar, Ben Baker. I know what I saw.” Aunt Jules turned knowing eyes toward Chrissy. “Definitely a distraction waiting to happen.”
“I really hope that’s not what she is.”
Ben winced at the booming voice coming from behind him. He turned to find a broad-shouldered man holding a new red toolbox. “Hey, Dad.”
“Son, what are you doing here?” Despite his fifty-five years, Frank Baker was nearly as fit as Ben, and, miraculously, he still had a full head of brown hair streaked with gray. He set the toolbox on the counter in front of Chrissy and Aunt Jules, whom he acknowledged with a nod. “Figured you’d be using every daylight hour possible to fix up your place. I don’t imagine you’re getting much business in its current shape. Must be hard on the pocketbook.”
Though Ben had texted with Dad a few times during the last two weeks about the condition of the inn, he’d avoided any conversation about his financial situation. And until now, Dad hadn’t asked.
“I’m just here to grab an air compressor.” Ben scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Mine is busted.”
“Could have borrowed mine.”
“I need a working one anyway. And you’re already letting me borrow some of the other tools I need.” He waved to Aunt Jules and Chrissy. “I’ll be back in a bit. See you later, Dad.”
Before his dad could ask any more questions, he headed toward the corner where Chrissy kept the air compressors. Ben studied the various options, weighing the pros and cons of a more budget-friendly choice with a more powerful one suited to the task he needed to complete.
“You really should buy a more professional-grade machine, you know.”
Ben briefly closed his eyes before flicking his attention toward his dad’s hulking form. “Probably.”
“So why aren’t you?” Dad’s eyes reflected the same hard flint as when Ben was a teenager who’d snuck out for the first—and last—time. Ashley called them his truth-ferreting eyes.
If Dad were on the hunt, then there was no use in trying to hide stuff from the old bulldog.
Sighing, Ben leaned against the dusty shelf. “I may be in some trouble. Monetarily speaking.”
“Define trouble.”
Oh man. This was going to hurt. Any respect his dad had for him was about to slide away like drops of water down a shower drain. Ben’s gaze fell onto the wooden floorboards. “Take your pick of definitions, but I’m in the hole. I didn’t have earthquake insurance, apparently. And while I didn’t have a lot to begin with, most of my July and early August reservations have canceled.” Ben shook his head. “If I don’t figure something out, I’m going to lose the inn.”
“You’re not thinking of selling, are you?”
Ben’s head shot up. “No.”
“Good. Because that property has been in our family for more than a hundred years. Your great-great-grandfather built it from nothing.”
As if he hadn’t heard that before. But as the oldest of five siblings, Dad took his position as head of the Baker clan seriously and felt the occasional need to remind everyone of their familial duties.
“I know, Dad.” He puffed out his chest a bit. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t tell you because I want your help. I’m going to figure something out without selling and without losing it to the bank. Bella is helping me look over—”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“Seems to me your priorities aren’t where they should be.” Dad clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Son, I know that Elena did a number on you. It’s a good thing I don’t know where she lives because I have half a mind to find her and give her a stern talking to.”
Ben huffed out a caustic laugh.
Dad’s squeeze dug into Ben’s collarbone. “And then I’d punch the daylights out of that man she left town with.”
“If she’s even still with him.” Because Elena traded in men on a whim—after an afternoon spent reveling in their company, in laughing over their corporate exploits, in dreaming of a different kind of life, one that didn’t include an uneducated small-town guy like Ben Baker. “But Dad, my problems started long before Bella got here. She’s got nothing to do with any of this. She’s just helping me figure out how to dig myself out of the pit.”
He hoped she could, anyway. Maybe he’d ask her again. But he didn’t want her to feel used, especially now that there might be something more between them.
“I hate to contradict you, son, and believe me, I don’t want to hurt you when I say this, but you allowed Elena to distract you. To take your eye off the prize. And maybe, just maybe, you’re doing it again.”
“That’s not what’s happening.” At least, he didn’t think so. “She’s helping me.”
“I know you like her, and I know she’s beautiful, and I know she charmed the pants off the whole family, but—”
“There’s more to her than that.”
“What do you really know about her, Ben?”
Dad had him there. The woman had given him bits and pieces, but her past—even her current life—were shrouded. But those things didn’t comprise a person, anyway. He knew who she was.
Didn’t he?
Shoving aside his doubts, he looked Dad in the eye. “I know enough.” For now.
Dad rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m just looking out for you. From what I can tell, she’s a nice girl. But she’s also a big-city type, and those folks tend to go back to what they know. They have different priorities than us.”
“It’s not like I’m proposing marriage to her tomorrow.”
“Just don’t go losing your heart to her. Focus on what’s most important right now—saving your inn—and if she’s still around when that’s done, then maybe you can see where things go.” Snagging the most expensive air compressor off the shelf, Da
d loaded it onto a dolly sitting next to the display.
“I can’t afford that one, Dad.”
“I’ve got it.” His dad started toward the front of the store, compressor in tow.
“No, I—”
“Hush up, son.” Dad swung around. “I may not be able to dig you out of the hole, but I can hand you a shovel. Remember the people who really care about you and you’ll be all right.”
“I expected you home by now.”
Bella kicked the pile of sand underneath her feet. Mom’s voice in her ear grated against the solitude of the setting. She’d come down to the Iridescent Inn’s private beach to think about how best to approach the conversation with her mother. But now that she was having it, logic was leaving her brain.
Only the high of the emotions left over from last night—from when she’d felt part of a family, a town—remained.
And the cold reality that she was just an interloper, a pretender. That she’d be going back to her real life soon enough. That no matter what she did, she couldn’t change that she was the daughter of the woman trying to steal a piece of Ben’s history out from under him.
When Bella didn’t answer, Mom doubled down. “I also expected more updates along the way.” The familiar sound of Mom’s swiveling chair squeaked across the line. Of course she was at work on a Saturday afternoon. Why wouldn’t she be?
Bella stared down the empty beach, where the water crashed against the lonely shore. “There have been some . . . developments.”
“What developments? The last I heard from you, you’d gotten ahold of his financials but refused to send them over until you’d looked at them.” She paused. “Well? Is he going to fold? Or does this earthquake actually give him a leg up thanks to insurance?”
Bella wiggled her toes into the sand, soaking in the warmth given by the midday sun. “He didn’t have earthquake insurance.”
Mom laughed, clear triumph in it. “That’s certainly a development. What else have you learned?”
Why couldn’t Bella just let herself lie? It would be so much easier. But after watching her mom do it day in and day out—“I promise I’ll be there, baby”—Bella had sworn she’d only ever say what she meant. Omitting the truth was as close as she’d come and even that was starting to feel like more of the same.
All of You, Always Page 7
