Bad Boy Blues
an Evergreen Cove novella
Jessica Lemmon
Lemmon Ink
Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Lemmon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Jessica Lemmon
www.jessicalemmon.com
For John.
Thank you for sharing this amazing,
precious, wild life with me.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author
Also by Jessica Lemmon
Chapter 1
Brady Hutchins stepped out of the precinct into the perfect eighty-four-degree summer day and breathed in the fresh air. He felt like he’d been in there for an hour, but the meeting with the chief of police had only lasted about twenty minutes.
There hadn’t been much to say. Brady’s probationary time, or as Chief Clarence liked to call it, his “leave” was complete. They both knew that his “leave” was the epitome of bullshit, and that Brady had been made an example, there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it now.
Anyway, it was over. He was permitted to resume his duties beginning tomorrow morning and end two weeks of boredom and pacing. He understood he shouldn’t have lost his temper even if the asshole had practically begged for an introduction to Brady’s knuckles. But, as the chief had reminded him serve and protect included everyone, even the assholes.
The bright side to being off work was that he hadn’t needed to leave Lila on her own. His girl was recovering from her own recent trauma. He’d offered his apartment as a safe haven away from the bad guys, but she’d cried the entire first night she’d stayed in his place anyway.
Honestly, he had no business with Lila given his insane hours. She hadn’t trusted him enough to be consoled, curled into a ball, miserable. Thank God, that hadn’t lasted longer than three nights. She’d kissed him goodbye this morning, which was a good sign she was feeling better.
His grandfather had agreed to keep Lila company while Brady worked. Not that Lila couldn’t stay on her own or take care of herself. The company was good for both her and Gramps.
At the end of the day, Brady was a cop who’d hit a civilian. Even though said civilian was a thrice-offending criminal who manhandled his woman on the regular, it was up to Brady to be the professional. To deescalate the situation rather than ramp it up. He shook off the shadow that crawled over him whenever he thought of that night.
The run-down house outside of the nicer parts of town. The dilapidated porch. The dog tied to a post on a very short rope with no water or food in sight. The yellow light bulb over the porch, casting Mack Browning in a sickly sheen. Mack’s wife June looked worse, her puffy eye growing more and more purple while Brady stood sentinel and vibrated with anger. She’d insisted she wasn’t pressing charges, that Mack hadn’t done anything. Then that abusive piece of shit took a swing at Brady and pop! Brady hit him square in the jaw before he thought better of it. At least he had the self-defense argument or else his “leave” could’ve been “no job.”
Summer might be getting to him.
After Memorial Day, vacationers flocked to Evergreen Cove for lake activities and festivals. As recently as two years ago, Brady’s hometown had felt lux and small, almost quaint by comparison. The tourists had doubled in the last two warm seasons, which meant he and his friends on the force had been running in circles in order to keep everyone safe.
He took his responsibilities seriously, and being off duty for two weeks had seriously fucked with his head. He’d be patrolling the street come tomorrow, thank Christ.
He’d right as many wrongs as the clock would allow.
Evan Downey crossed the street coming from the direction of the post office and gave Brady a chin-nod. Evan had come to the Cove five or six years ago now. He had a beautiful wife and son and had turned his love for tattoos into illustrating children’s books instead. His paintings of superhero farm animals—Mad Cow and Swine Flu, among others—were some of the best artwork Brady’d ever seen.
“What’s up, Hutch?” Evan asked, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.
“Finally back at it. How’s the family?”
A genuine, happy grin lit Evan’s face. “Lyon’s a teenager. Making me crazy. Charlie’s Charlie, so,” he dipped his voice low, “making me crazy.”
Brady grinned. He was happy for the guy. Evan had lost his wife when his kid was a toddler and moved here to start over. Brady understood starting over. He’d lost his own parents when he wasn’t much older than Lyon.
“Hear you got a dog,” Evan said.
“Evidently.” Brady shrugged.
“Lyon’s been begging for one.” Evan shook his head. “What’d you name him?”
“Her. Lila,” Brady answered. “Gramps calls her Pancake.” He held up a hand. “Don’t ask.”
“I won’t. See you around for the Fourth, yeah?”
“If I don’t deck Mack Browning on the clock again, I’ll be working, so you’ll see me around.”
“You did right by June, and Lila, sounds like. What an asshole,” Evan said. Brady appreciated the support. He wasn’t the only one in town who’d wanted to bloody Mack’s lip.
Evergreen Cove might be a lux, wealthy, touristy lake town, but they were small enough to gossip. He nodded his goodbye as Evan ambled off.
Brady climbed in his truck to go home to his girl, Lila. He’d scratch her favorite spot behind her ears, eat dinner, and grab some time at the gym later tonight. He was glad to have his routine back and, even though it’d been a long time since he’d had a girl to go home to, he was looking forward to that part the most.
Elliott McKinley navigated the nighttime road blanketed by pines on either side. Every once in a while, the gap would give her a vantage of the ink-black lake, the cloudy night, and the barely there moon lighting its surface. She’d been on the road for hours and was dead tired, but her destination was nigh.
Since she’d spent all those hours alone, and the radio station had looped every song into a veritable ear worm, she’d had a lot of time to think. Her looping thought at the moment? A timeline.
Six years, two months, four days.
Over and over, she thought about that. Six years. Six YEARS. That was how much of her life she’d sacrificed to her narcissistic ex-boyfriend. Not narcissistic as a metaphor. He was a literal narcissist. She’d justified Neil’s behavior at first. Sure, he’d seemed a touch infatuated with himself, but he’d also just landed partner at the most successful law firm in Northern Michigan. Yes, he was critical of her and intolerant of receiving criticism, but no one liked being judged. As each year rolled into the next, however, she’d noticed she missed working, missed being a part of a social network that wasn’t Neil’s. She’d missed having her own identity, which had been somehow lost behind his.
With spring, came rebirth. She’d left Neil and moved her few belongings to an empty
part of her parents’ garage. She’d then moved into the guest bedroom of her parents’ gargantuan house in a gorgeous neighborhood north of Chicago.
But two months was way too long to live with her parents, much as she loved them, so she was embarking on an adventure. An independent one, though she didn’t feel independent yet. The borrowed BMW and the vacation house in Evergreen Cove were training wheels on a bike that was rickety from underuse. But her parents had insisted she lean on them. When Elliott’s therapist had agreed it’d be a good transition, she’d packed up the car and left.
Elliott’s father hadn’t been happy about her making the drive from Chicago to northern Ohio alone, but she’d needed the reminder that she could do things on her own. It was her mother who’d insisted that Elliott could handle the trip solo, and Elli had needed that vote of confidence more than her next breath.
The BMW’s trunk and backseat were stuffed with clothes, a cooler of food, plenty of beach reads in the form of physical paperback books, and an ancient laptop. The now-outdated computer had been ignored since Neil had outfitted their home with streamlined, cloud-based computers, tablets, and phones. He’d kept an eye on her that way, so those sleek, expensive electronics held zero lure now. As long as her clunkier version could connect to Wi-Fi, she’d be fine.
The map on the car’s display announced she was twelve minutes from the beach house. A thrum of excitement raced through her. Almost there. Almost home. A temporary home, but it counted.
“Six years,” she grumbled aloud, because no matter how much she felt like celebrating, six years was a horribly long time to have one’s head buried in the sand.
She yawned behind her hand before cranking the air conditioning down to keep herself awake. She’d had a late start, and traffic leaving Chicago had been a bitch. Plus, she’d stopped for a leisurely dinner for no other reason than she could. A dinner alone, ordering whatever she wanted and without Neil’s input. She’d actually heard his voice in her head as she ordered french fries to go with her steak. He’d criticized her for, among other things, eating unhealthy. Her therapist assured her this was normal, and that it’d take a while for that critical voice to be silenced.
Elli knew who she was with Neil. She knew who she was with her parents. She was determined to find out who she could be on her own. It’d been a while.
Endless Avenue, and a long street of stores and restaurants, stretched out before her. Evergreen Cove had changed a lot since she’d last been here. The buildings were old, quaint, and somehow modern at the same time. There were pine trees everywhere, adorning the signs, painted on the windows, and physically standing guard in the distance. The cove itself was a dark splotch at the moment, but she remembered well what it looked like in dappled sunlight. How the water was cold in the deep spots, and how good it felt to touch the sandy bottom in the shallows.
Smiling to herself, and eager to reach the lake house just a few turns away, she was snapped from her thoughts when the car jerked to the left. She gripped the steering wheel tighter. The car pulling in that direction, paired with her having difficulty steering, hinted she was dealing with something more serious than a pothole.
The thumping sound that followed sealed her suspicion of a flat tire, or one that was well on its way. With a tired whine, she steered into the nearest parking lot, which happened to house a fitness center very near the library. As much as she lamented her bad luck, at least she’d broken down in a moderately safe place.
Once out of the car, she found the flat on the rear driver’s side, and her options lined up before her. She could call Triple-A. She could call her father and ask how to change it.
Each of those solutions made her feel more like a little girl than an adult woman. She was capable. She was smart. No matter what Neil had told her during their time together, she could take care of herself. This was the age of female rebirth after all. She could change a damn tire.
“All I need,” she said, closing her eyes and drawing on her own inner strength her therapist assured her was there, “is YouTube.”
Then she pulled out her phone and did a search.
Chapter 2
The gym was dead at eleven at night, which was why Brady went at this time. He was a visible guy in the Cove, and the less hi-how-are-ya he could do during his off hours, the better. Touristy though she was, the Cove kept visitors in her clutches and near the water. Most vacationers were either lounging in front of a bonfire or laughing from the decks of their boats at this time of night.
He’d worked out hard tonight and had followed that workout with a long, hot shower. He’d fall into bed when he got home, after he took Lila outside first, of course. She’d been snuggled in her dog bed with her favorite stuffed monkey when he’d left. She was a good dog. He hadn’t been looking for a dog, but it wasn’t like he could’ve left her at Mack’s.
”Is that your dog?” Brady gestured toward the matted dog hunching forlornly next to the post. The miserable mutt was filthy, wet from the rain, and had no water or food bowls.
”The mongrel’s hers.” Mack sneered at his wife. “Told her not to bring the bitch home, yet here she is. Planning on shooting it.”
Shortly after, Mack threw a punch and missed. Brady’s swing connected. Brady had been halfway to hitting Mack after seeing the state June was in, but managed to keep his cool. Mack coming for him had been the proverbial last straw.
Brady had reminded June to call him if she changed her mind about pressing charges, and then he’d untied Lila and informed the Brownings that the dog belonged to him now. Carrying the pup’s shaking body in his arms, he’d murmured a promise into her ear that he’d find her a good home. That she’d never be tied to a porch post again.
The goal had been to keep her that first night and then re-home her. But after a vet visit assuring that she was more emotionally traumatized than physically ill, she’d forlornly watched him with intelligent, frightened brown eyes. They seemed to beg him to stay, and hell, he’d never fallen so hard so fast.
Out in the parking lot, he took in the situation around him in flashes. Habit, that. He always watched his twenty. His truck was parked off to the right, one other compact car probably belonging to the woman in pink who’d been monopolizing the stair-climber was on the left, and there was a vehicle at the back parked with the passenger’s side facing the building. BMW. It was tipped, suggesting it was jacked up. The clang of metal on pavement further hinted that work was being done on the car—maybe a tire was being removed. Maybe hubcaps being stolen.
Staying alert, he tossed his gym bag into the bed of his truck as he passed by and walked to the car, calling in a low, authoritative voice, “Need some help?”
The delay made him wonder if they were hubcap thieves. He reached for his hip, only to remember he wasn’t carrying a weapon. He wore nothing but a baggy tank top and shorts, and a pair of sneakers.
A head popped up over the trunk a second later and set him at ease. If she was a hubcap thief, she was a damn pretty one. Thanks to the overhead lights, he made out shadowed high cheekbones, big, doe-like dark eyes, and a rich, lush mouth.
“No, thanks!” she called out. “I’ve got it.” And with that, she ducked down again.
Guard still up—because you never knew—he rounded the vehicle slowly. He found what he’d first suspected: a jacked-up car, one tire on the ground. The woman was crouched over her phone. A tinny voice coming from the device explained the ins and outs of replacing a tire.
“I can finish up for you. Without the video.” He offered a smile when she jerked her head up at him. She was slight, her dark hair medium length, just brushing her shoulders. She wore leggings and an oversize gray T-shirt, one sleeve falling to the side and revealing a tanned shoulder.
“No.” She stood and took a step away from him. “I’ve got it.”
Definitely not from around here. She was safe in a well-lit parking lot, half a mile from the beach with the library behind her. Hell, the most crime he’d seen go d
own in Library Park was toilet papering done by local kids.
Her eyes narrowed, almost suspiciously, and her gaze roved over him. Of course, he wasn’t in uniform. She probably thought he was out to take advantage of her.
“Okay, then.” He nodded and backed away, giving her some breathing room. But when the jack gave, ratcheting the car down several inches, he moved into action on pure instinct. By the time her delicate shriek pierced the air, Brady had shoved her away from car, dropped knees-to-pavement, and reset the jack.
“You okay?” He held his hand out to let her know she shouldn’t come closer while adrenaline zapped down both of his arms. Given his job, it didn’t take much to put him on alert. So much for a good night’s sleep. Any fatigue brought on by his workout was long gone.
“Yeah. I’m okay.” Her hand was on her chest like she was checking her heartbeat. He stood to his full height, and her big eyes watched him the entire way. His cop instincts went berserk. The luggage in the back proved she was traveling, but something told him it was more than that. Something told him she was running.
“You’re sure you’re okay,” he repeated, studying her closer.
“Well, I was.” Her gaze trickled down to the jack.
“See ya tomorrow, Brady!” came a voice from the lot. He sent up a wave at the woman who’d been on the stair climber earlier. He hadn’t recognized her, but she seemed to know who he was. That happened a lot. He was a small-town celebrity.
He turned back to the brunette. “It’s not a problem to change it. Honest.”
Bad Boy Blues (Evergreen Cove Book 1) Page 1