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Authors: Vickie McKeehan

BOOK: Sea Glass Cottage
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The sigh she let out filled the interior of the car. “Let’s just say, they’ve been doozies and leave it at that.”

“Fair enough. I know the desire for privacy. Unfortunately, there’s very little I’ve been able to keep from public scrutiny about my own life.”

“The price of NFL fame?”

“That’s one way of looking at it. I like to think since I got all that out of my system early, I’ve reached a point where I deserve a little solitude, somewhere I can raise my son away from the spotlight.”

“I don’t think I could handle the fishbowl.”

“I don’t want that for Jonah,” he said as he pulled up next to the keeper’s cottage and cut the engine. “It’s pretty up here. You have a great view of the entire bay.”

For the first time since getting in the car, her lips curved. “It is. Peaceful. Talk about solitude. I love it here. Even though it has a bit of a spooky history.” She told him about the serial killer and the bodies they’d found in the woods last year.

“Yeah. Carl Knudsen. Weird guy. I remember when I was a kid going into his drugstore to pick up Band Aids or whatever for my mom and he’d watch me like a hawk afraid I’d steal something. My mom used to say he gave her the willies.”

Isabella tossed out the name Scott Phillips, determined to include him among the area’s colorful past.

Thane nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard those stories too about the soldier. I remember him a little bit. I’d expect that kind of thing from Professor Hawkins because he’s a little out there to believe that stuff. But I’m surprised you buy into it, too.”

“Because I’ve seen him walking up here on the cliff. Scott not Wade. And believe it or not, his presence makes me feel secure like he’s watching over me.” That admission made her sound like a nutcase. She met Thane’s doubting eyes. “I know how it sounds. But I also know what I’ve seen.”

“I reserve the right to be a skeptic,” Thane said, checking his watch. “Okay, here’s the deal. I have to pick Jonah up from school. Will you be all right here for forty-five minutes or so until I can make it back?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Sorry. That ship sailed. I’m picking up Jonah and coming back here. You have to be starving. I know I am. We both missed lunch. I’ll stop and pick something up from the Diner. Any preferences? Now’s the time to make them known.”

“You don’t have to—”

Her protest was interrupted. “Don’t even start with me. My mind’s made up. If your stomach can stand waiting, I’ll be back with food. Give me the prescription Doc wrote for you.”

“I’d planned to take a couple of ibuprofen instead.”

“Come on, hand it over, no need to be stubborn about it. I’ll drop it off at the pharmacy while I pick up the food. Where’s your phone?”

“Why?”

“I need your number so I can tell you when I’m headed back. You need mine if you should think of anything else you need while I’m at the pharmacy or the Diner. Also it’ll come in handy if you need to go back to the doctor.”

How could she argue with an offer that nice and neighborly? She dug the folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it off.

“Now was that so hard?”

“I guess not.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“And with a little boy, right?”

“And a little boy,” he answered, his brow turning into a deep furrow. “Does that bother you, me bringing Jonah by?”

“Not at all. I’m looking forward to meeting your son.”

 

Chapter Three

 

A
fter months of planning Tradewinds Boatyard had become a reality.

As the week drew to a close, business partners, Ryder McLachlan, Zach Dennison, and Troy Dayton, had seen to it. They’d lived and breathed and practically slept with each other for the past two months to make sure they were ready to begin building boats as soon as the first order came in.

The trio had spent long grueling days cleaning out the rat-infested hole—a hole the three of them jointly owned—getting the table saws in place, ordering supplies and getting down to business. The day they got their first order via fax, they’d looked at each other in stunning realization knowing this was the real deal.

“It’s official. Nick says the wire transfer cleared from somewhere in the Cayman Islands—a viable deposit—the balance will be paid on completion and delivery of the sailboat we designed.” Zach held up a six-pack of beer. “Today we celebrate.”

Ryder turned from the plans he’d drawn up with the help of a software program and said, “So do we know yet who this mysterious client is? So far all we’ve seen are faxes, a few emails and the cash.”

“Maybe we’re building this gorgeous 22-footer for some gangster on the other side of the world,” Troy speculated as only a guy of twenty-two could.

“Maybe,” Ryder noted. “Do we know for a fact this isn’t for your friend, Jacob Hettinger?”

“It isn’t Jacob,” Zach said with a shake of his head. “He’s still going back and forth with what he wants. And frankly, I’m glad it isn’t him. Until Jacob figures out exactly what it is he wants, I’d just as soon not start building anything at all.”

“Good thinking. So, whoever it is, all we know is their deposit cleared and they’ll pick this baby up here in three months in Pelican Pointe,” Troy pointed out.

“You got it. You know as much about the buyer as I do. But as long as their money is good, do we really care who it is? They didn’t ask us to design any secret compartments for smuggling so that’s always a good sign,” Zach cracked, twisting the top off a brew.

“All I’m saying is our design kicks ass,” Ryder went on with pride. “Kyle said this was the best design he’d seen in five years. And we’re just starting out. Imagine what we’ll be creating ten years down the road.”

“That’s why we hired Kyle Graham as consultant,” Zach touted with a grin. “He knows talent when he sees it.”

“Our first boat design and just look at all that beautiful teak we plan to use on the deck,” Troy said in awe at the lumber stacked high on one side of the room.

“According to his latest Hotmail account, the client wants a little more flare across the hull and for us to put in a slightly wider cockpit to curve right about here,” Ryder said tapping the computer screen. “We do both those things and I guarantee this little baby will fly through the water. You watch and see.”

Zach nodded. “Put the storage lockers under the full seat here, add a separate battery locker about here, add in the racing package our client ordered and we’re talking Tradewinds Boatyard’s first real beauty right off our very own assembly line.”

“In ninety days,” Troy said. “Not only will we deliver this boat on time but when we do, it will be the perfect craft for either a day sail or a weekender. Whoever it is will get a helluva boat. Wish we knew who it was.”

“Do you plan to let the fact we haven’t seen our client’s face bother you?”

“I’d just like to know who it is. That’s all.”

“I wouldn’t mind knowing that myself,” Ryder admitted.

About that time, Zach looked up to see Drea Jennings standing in the open doorway. The pretty brunette held a beautiful fall bouquet of mums and daisies. “Sorry to interrupt but I have a delivery.”

“For us?” Troy said in wonder. “Are those for Bree? I know she’s working with you to do our wedding flowers but I didn’t order these.”

Drea laughed. “No, I’m sure these are for you, all three of you in fact. Here’s an idea. Someone read the card and find out who ordered them.”

“Good idea,” Zach said, taking the vase from the lovely florist and handing it off to Ryder.

While Zach snatched the card attached from its plastic holder and opened the envelope, Ryder stood there stuck with the bowl of flowers. “The card says, ‘From one business owner to another, congratulations on Tradewinds Boatyard, Nick and Jordan.’ Wow, that’s a classy gesture from the banker and his wife. Makes me feel more part of the town and I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“I think that’s the idea. I have two more arrangements in the van.”

“For us?” Zach echoed again, clearly shocked by the outpouring of sentiment. “People really sent three guys a bunch of flowers? For real?”

“You’ll probably get even more,” Drea said, spinning on her heels to walk back to the vehicle she’d left parked at the curb.

“I’ll help you with those,” Zach offered.

“Good because I could use an extra pair of hands.” She went to the back door of the truck, swung it open. “This is from Hayden,” she said as she picked up the braided money tree and held it up. “For prosperity and for good luck. And this is from Lilly and Wally.”

Zach eyed the European garden basket with a Mylar balloon attached that said ‘congratulations’ in silver and purple. “I hope like hell we can keep all these plants alive.”

“Should I plan to make a house call?” Drea asked.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Unless Ryder or Troy has a green thumb I don’t know anything about, the greenery is subject to neglect, especially with our busy schedules. Maybe I’ll talk Ryder into taking one home to Julianne.”

“So you’re okay now with Troy marrying Bree?”

Since Troy was his business partner and would soon become his brother-in-law, Zach had done his best to put things in perspective. But no matter how much time went by, he still couldn’t get used to the idea his kid sister would soon be married. To him, she still seemed like the little girl who used to bug him to take her wherever he went. Now, Bree was busy getting her own tour business up and going while at the same time, planning the wedding.

Zach blew out a breath. “Not really. This summer I was convinced the relationship was moving way too fast to suit me. They’re so young. I remember when I was twenty-two, I sure wasn’t thinking about settling down back then.”

“You aren’t that old. Besides, everyone’s different. It doesn’t take a whole lot to see that Troy is crazy about her and that she feels the same way about him.”

“I came around to that a couple of weeks ago. What can I do about it anyway? Don’t get me wrong, Troy’s a great guy. That goes a long way to how I feel. He makes her happy. I have to accept that.”

“Is that your main objection, the fact that they’re so young?”

“Yeah. My only objection really. But despite their ages, those two are go-getters—Troy with our boat business and Bree with the tours.”

“Has she decided what to call hers yet?”

“Tours by Bree. She’s keeping it simple. She’s already started taking B&B guests on hikes in the area so essentially she’s open and money’s already coming in.”

Drea stared at the man holding greenery in both hands. He had the sharpest eyes and cutest smile. But if she waited for Zach to get around to asking her out, she’d no doubt be waiting for another several years. So she garnered her courage and blurted out the invitation. “Would you like to go out sometime? Keep it simple. Maybe grab a burger at the Diner?”

“Really? Sure. Okay.” Zach turned to go back inside, carrying the flowers, got halfway to the dock and stopped. “I think I can do better than the Diner. How about dinner and a movie in Santa Cruz this Saturday night?”

“It’s a date.” With that, she closed the doors to the van and watched him disappear into the boatyard. And just like that she pumped a fist in the air. “Yessssss!”

It was only after she did a happy dance no one else could see that she climbed behind the wheel.

 

 

“So you’re going
out with Drea? I thought you were interested in Izzy?” Troy asked from below the hull he was shaping.

Zach shook his head. “There’s something off with Isabella. I’m not sure what it is other than she’s a little too stuck up for my tastes. A couple of times I tried to have a conversation with her but she doesn’t seem to want to answer a direct question.”

“She does seem like something’s bothering her.”

“All I know is I did my damnedest to get a few details out of her and she closed off. I just didn’t get a good vibe that the two of us would ever click that way.”

“What about Drea?”

“What about her?”

“Do you get a vibe around her?” Troy said with a grin.

Ryder laughed. “Oh, I think our friend here gets more than a vibe.”

“Fuck you both,” Zach said in jest. “What do you say we get this keel shaped and the cutaway done by tonight.”

 

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