by Noelle Fox
“Franco’s a smart chef. He sticks to what he knows. What he’s good at.”
Her eyebrows went up. “And at the lodge?”
Connor shrugged and picked up half of a braised short-rib bruschetta topped with pickled onions. “I’ll let you figure that out yourself. You’re more qualified than I am.”
She took a bite, chewed carefully, concentrating. “Garlic and lemon, some cheese mashed into the beans—goat maybe? Perfect balance with the basil. Nice.”
He grinned. She was not really talking to him. Just experiencing. “Sorry to hear about your restaurant closing.”
She put down the rest of her bite, clearly astonished. “How does everyone know so much about me?”
“I Googled you after Derek sent out a memo that you were coming.”
“Has he done that with other visitors?”
“Not since I’ve been here. Going on five years.”
“Really?” She scrunched up her face so the freckles bunched together. Also adorable. He was becoming as smitten with the real-life present-day Grace as he’d been with his idealized version of her. Now that they’d cleared up the whopper of a misunderstanding, he wanted to dive in and really get to know her, see if the hold she’d had on him for so long came from a real place or a fantasy. “That is really weird. He’s not… I mean he’s not creepy or anything, is he?”
“You mean like, after you? No…” He thought harder, then shook his head. “No, I’m sure not. He acts like a jerk sometimes, but ultimately not a bad person, and chasing women is not his style at all, or it never has been. He’s been pretty seriously ill, though he seems recovered now. And I think he’s got a thing going—or wants to—with Village President Mayer.”
“Her title is Village President Mayor?”
He laughed. “Mayer is her last name. Village President is the title. Do not joke about it in her presence or she will rip your head off with her teeth.”
Grace shuddered and picked up her half of the chicken artichoke. “I’ll definitely remember that.”
“So, Grace. Are we clear here? Finally?”
She took a bite and chewed carefully, head bent slightly forward as if she were listening to the flavors in her mouth. He had a feeling she was also delaying answering. Which made him nervous. More nervous than he should be. “White wine, bay leaf, a touch of vinegar, egg yolk… I think I need more time to process.”
“The bruschetta?” Ha-ha, lame joke, so sue him.
“You and me. However…” She lifted a finger, deliberately imperious. “I believe I can bring myself to be civil to you.”
He grinned. They were going to be okay. “That’ll work for now.”
“For now?”
“I mean until we get know each other better.”
“Oh.” She did the cute frowning thing again. “Is that what’s going to happen?”
His relief was put on hold. “Why not?”
“Just that…well, I came here for privacy and peace.”
“Okay.” His disappointment was sharp and surprising. “How about I leave you alone for a couple of days and then see how you feel?”
“That sounds smart. Thank you.” She looked up, and for the first time their eyes met openly and honestly, without the tough guard of anger and resentment she’d had so firmly in place.
Sexual adrenaline rioted through Connor’s body.
Oh man.
Did she feel that, too? He practically had to sit on his hands to keep from hauling her out of the booth for the kiss she’d wanted all those years ago.
And he’d just offered to leave her alone when she was here for such a short time?
The next two days were going to feel like forever.
Chapter 5
Derek took a sip from his Flask of Courage, aka Jameson’s Irish Whisky, then another. Just to take the edge off. The work day was over, not like he’d be doing anything important under even this slight influence. But he hadn’t been so nervous since the morning of his first round of chemo. Nothing like cancer to remind you that you were only human. Nothing like having to get to know a stranger who happened to be your daughter to remind you that you’d made a lot of stupid choices in life.
Wait a minute. He had been this nervous before. When Katherine went into labor with Grace.
Clancy trotted into the office and sniffed the air, tail wagging.
“Well.” Derek put the flask back into his drawer. “You haven’t shown up in a long time. Where’ve you been?”
His beloved Irish Setter did the dog-equivalent of a shrug, circled the office and sat next to the chair in front of Derek’s desk.
“Confusing times, Clancy. Got my middle daughter here on the island. I’m going to see if she wants to do something together tomorrow. Feel like the dirty peasant asking the princess for a token of her esteem.”
Clancy made a snuffing noise and lay down.
“You’re right, you’re right. Nothing really to worry about. But human emotions aren’t always logical. You’re lucky you don’t have to bother with them.”
Liz poked her head into his office and looked around, clearly puzzled. “Who are you talking to?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you mind?”
“I need to talk to you about this Fourth of July party budget you got to me way after the deadline.”
“Later.” He waved her away. “I’ve got a meeting in about two seconds.”
“Fine, I’ll come back.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and continued down the hall.
Some people had no problem sticking their cute noses where they didn’t belong. Though he was used to Liz and didn’t mind. She’d been a rock for him through his diagnosis and treatment. Never fussing or coddling, no unwanted sympathy. She was just there, quiet and steady. Someday he’d attempt to tell her how much that had meant to him.
Clancy lifted his head abruptly and fixed Derek with a brown stare.
“Yeah, I know.” Derek sighed. Illness had taught him that there was a limit to those “somedays.” Which was why his daughter was here, close to him for the first time since she was a sweet-smelling baby girl. He leaned over to open his desk drawer again. One more sip. “Truth is, I can only humble myself to one woman at a time, so Liz will have to wait for her truth.”
“Who are you talking to?”
Derek managed not to jump. He hadn’t heard Connor come in. “None of your business, Reed.”
“Right.” Connor walked right over and helped himself to the chair in front of Derek’s desk. “You wanted to see me?”
Kids these days. Acted like they owned the world. “By all means come in and have a seat.”
“Okay.” Connor looked predictably confused. “Thanks.”
“I wanted to talk to you about July Fourth. I’m trying to ramp up the celebration. Fighting Liz every step of the way.”
“Business as usual.” He winked. “She’s a smart lady, and a good manager.”
“True.” Derek was annoyed, as usual, how hard it was to truly hate this kid. And yet, he still wanted to smack the cocky look off his face. What was someone who had a college degree doing leading hikers up and down a mountain? If Derek had been lucky enough to have half this kid’s opportunities… “How many you think you can manage on a hike? Dinner, a great view of fireworks in the harbor. Sleeping under the stars…”
“How much help would I have?”
“One. We’ll need all extras down at the lodge.”
“Probably twenty. Eighteen guests, preferably in groups, several to a tent. More than that and I’d need another helper to cook and herd.”
“If you had another helper, how many?”
“We’re limited by how many can crowd onto the observation platform, but I think we could handle thirty. More than that, it’s not fun anymore. You could split between both mountains if we had the staff.”
“Hmm.” Not a bad idea.
“Or…” His eyes lit up. “You could offer a helicopter trip. Circling the islands first, then ho
vering over the harbor for the fireworks.”
“Hmm.” Derek was annoyed again. This time because not only had Connor come up with good ideas, but Derek hadn’t thought of either one himself.
Clancy lifted his nose and sniffed Connor’s leg. His fluffy tail wagged.
Great. Even his dog liked the guy.
“I’ll think about it.” Derek settled back in his chair, rested his elbows on its armrests and folded his hands. “So…”
Connor straightened from looking down toward Clancy. “So?”
“Heard you had dinner last night with Grace Cooper at Orion.”
“Not dinner.” Connor’s voice was pleasant enough, but his eyes narrowed slightly. “A beer and an appetizer. What about it?”
“I’m pretty sure we have rules about dating guests.”
“She’s an old friend.”
“Yeah?” Derek folded his arms. “Didn’t look that way when she arrived on the ferry and saw you. More like an old enemy.”
Connor huffed. “What are you saying, that I forced her to have a beer with me?”
Clancy growled. Derek glanced down at him, relieved the animal had finally realized who the bad guy was.
Yeah. Except Clancy was looking at Derek.
“Just be careful, Reed.”
“Of what?”
“Appearances.” He unfolded his arms. “Did she mention anything she was particularly interested in doing while she’s here?”
“Last night when I was walking her to the lodge, she said she wanted to go sea kayaking, that she’s never tried it. She also mentioned whale-watching and a hike. Why?”
A hike. Which no doubt Connor would want to take her on.
Clancy growled again. At Derek.
Chill, mutt. Derek was allowed to be a protective dad. But he’d gotten what he wanted from Reed. He could offer to take Grace on a kayak voyage to the northern end of the island where the caves were. You couldn’t pay him enough to go inside one, but maybe she’d like to visit. If she wanted to subject herself to cold dank narrow places in which there was no air, no room and hardly any way to escape, he could arrange to have Alex Peres, their spelunking expert, meet them there.
“So, Derek?”
A slight cough made him realize he’d drifted off into Good-Dad-Fantasyland.
“Can I ask who Grace Cooper is to you?”
Derek lifted his left eyebrow and tilted his head. None of your business.
Connor looked startled, then stared at him with a rather weird intensity. A really weird intensity. Like he’d noticed an alien trying to burrow its way out of Derek’s forehead.
“She’s the daughter of a good friend of mine.” He clenched his teeth. “Dick Wiggins. He left money for her to have a vacation here. I promised him on his deathbed that I’d look out for her.”
“Oh.” Connor was still staring speculatively. “Dick Wiggins. Uh-huh.”
“Go away.” Derek gestured Connor out of his office. “I’ll get back to you on what I decide about the Fourth.”
Connor didn’t move. “You know, Wakefield, you oughtta hire someone to be in charge of all the activities. Keep tabs on everything that goes on here from one central place.”
Another good idea. Derek would have to look at the budget, though he was proud to say under his leadership the retreat had been expanding steadily and was still solidly profitable. “Why, you looking for a promotion?”
“Nope. I’m happy where I am. Just thought it might help.”
“Hmph.” Derek didn’t trust a guy who didn’t want to get ahead. Work taught a person a lot, about the world and about himself, though granted it had taken younger Derek a while to get that through his skull. “Now let me work.”
“Okay. See you around.” Connor stood, gave a casual wave and left the room.
In about two seconds, Liz was back. She must have been hovering outside, like a mosquito. “I forgot to ask. Did you talk to Officer Andrea about hiring extra police power for crowd control?”
He sighed. “Liz, we don’t need extra officers for—”
“Yes, we do. If you’re planning a bar on city property, you’re going to have to have more help.”
Wait until she heard about the helicopter rides. “You have a pretty dim view of our town and my guests.”
“And you have a pretty dim view of my judgment.”
“Hmph.” He pulled out the flask and thrust it toward her. “Have a drink and calm the hell down. It’s quitting time and I’m leaving.”
She stopped in surprise at the sight of the flask. “Yeah, I don’t think drinking together is a good idea.”
He’d temporarily forgotten the significance of the flask, but his male equipment must have had an immediate and really hot memory of Liz, flushed, hair tousled, splayed out on his desk, because, well…
Schwing.
“I’m offering a sip, not the whole thing.”
“Thanks, no.” She narrowed her eyes curiously. “Why are you hitting it today?”
“Not your business.”
“Right.” She hesitated, shuffling through some papers, obviously trying to look casual. “So how is your VIP guest liking Northern Lights?”
“Seems as if she likes it just fine.” He took a last sip and put the flask away. “I’m about to go down and offer myself as a personal escort on a kayak journey tomorrow.”
Liz’s head jerked up. “You’re kidding.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Was Liz actually jealous of his daughter?
“Since when do you know how to kayak?”
Oh. Maybe not jealous. He blew out a raspberry. “Aw, c’mon, how hard can it be?”
Liz cracked up. He loved it when she laughed. Her efficient-blonde look relaxed into girl-next-door fun. Clancy lifted his head and gazed at her adoringly. “This I have to see.”
“Nah, I’m kidding. I used to kayak around here a lot when I was a kid.”
“Of course.” She was still smiling. He found himself grinning, too. Liz was really pretty, in a not-obvious way. He liked that. He suspected she had a “friend” on the mainland, a casual thing now and then. He was cave-man enough not to like that, though he was glad if the guy made Liz happy.
“Well.” She backed up a few steps. “You better go make your date.”
“Liz.”
“What?”
“Not a date. She’s the daughter of an old friend. That’s it.”
“Oh. Really.” She couldn’t quite hide her smile. “Not that it’s anything to me.”
“Of course not.” He couldn’t quite hide his smile either. Maybe she did have a guy on the mainland. But maybe Derek wasn’t entirely out of the running. Another “someday” he’d have to decide when to change to “today.”
* * *
Grace had a leisurely stretch on the couch in her cottage, then peeked at the brass clock on the mantel. She loved the homey little touches throughout the cabin. Besides the clock, the room was furnished with colorful rugs, watercolors on the walls and a small bookcase with a nice assortment of travel, fiction and biographies. If she tried hard, she could forget she was in a hotel and imagine herself in someone’s guest house.
Her first full day she’d spent being relatively lazy, recovering from her travels. Early that morning she’d taken a run along the water, heading from her cottage south toward the kayak rental place, Andromeda Rentals, then crossing back north past the cottages, the lodge and finally curving around to the other side of the cove, where the fishing trips left, the ferry landed, and the little building stood where you could rent golf cart and ATVs. Along with the other things she planned to do here, it might be fun to try out an ATV along the old logging trails that the maps in her room showed criss-crossing the island.
At one point passing the lodge, she’d seen Connor from a distance, but aside from a short wave, he’d left her alone as promised. While she’d nearly tripped over nothing at the sight of him, and about doubled her pace from the adrenaline rush.
The guy
got to her. Still, after all this time. Beyond the physical attraction, she’d been grudgingly impressed at how directly and easily he’d wanted to talk about their past, though for all she knew, the story about his tough life and his pain and the reasons he’d sent her away had been a big load of boo-hoo bat guano—though it didn’t feel like it.
However. The talk with Connor had revealed her lingering anger in a new light. Misunderstanding aside, yeah, why had she wanted to sleep with him if she thought he was screwing anything that moved? She probably needed to look no further than her mother’s fabulous example of throwing herself at the men guaranteed to treat her the worst.
In any case, they’d had their little talk, put the trouble to rest, and who cared anymore? Not like she had to deal with him in any serious way, either while she was here, or after.
A knock on her door made her jump. She’d been cocooned in beautiful quiet privacy all day, reading on the porch, having a delicious sandwich from Nellie’s bakery for lunch—no charge and a to-die-for oatmeal raisin spice cookie thrown in with it!—and fiddling with new dish ideas for when she got the chance to cook her own menus again.
She ran to the door and opened it, heart thumping at the thought that it might be Connor, even though he’d promised to leave her alone.
It was Derek.
Uh-oh.
She wasn’t sure yet if she trusted Derek, though Connor seemed to think he was an okay guy. She wasn’t sure she trusted Connor either. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He stood there awkwardly, dressed more casually than the day he’d met her at ferry, in jeans and a flannel plaid shirt, Mr. Lumberjack. His brown hair was short all over, with a cowlick on one side that looked like it would refuse to lie down no matter what he did.
She forced a smile. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He shifted, peeked past her into her cottage, then back at her. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
That was nice. But also an annoying interruption, not that she’d been doing anything all that vital. “Fine. I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Good.” He folded his hands over his belt buckle, separated them and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, then let them hang awkwardly at his side. “I was wondering what you were planning on doing tomorrow.”
