She folded her arms over her chest, checked the parking lot, and then gave him a jerky nod. He probably had the woman from the gym to thank for the yes. Most townsfolk didn’t greet the local serial killer.
He pulled the donut out of the trunk and began the simple task of replacing the tire and tightening the lug nuts. “Meeting friends or family in the Cove?” he asked while he worked.
“Boyfriend. He’s a, uh, he’s a Navy SEAL.” Her tone was both feisty and cautious, and Brady hid a smile.
Boyfriend, my ass.
“He’s sleeping. I didn’t want to bother him,” she quickly explained.
“Uh-huh.” He wasn’t buying it. “You two renting a place, or is he local?”
“What are you, a cop?” she snapped.
He chuckled, but before he could say that yes, he was a cop, she talked over him.
“Look, I’ve been driving for over six hours. I have to pee. I’m tired. A little hungry. The ice in my cooler is probably water, and I need to put my food in the fridge and take a shower.”
Finished with his task, he stood and brushed his hands on his shorts. “You’re all set.”
“What do I do with that?” She gestured at the flat tire.
“You mean your boyfriend doesn’t know?” He cocked his head.
She pursed her lips.
“I know a guy who can patch it if you’ll be in town for a while. His place is on my way home.” Sort of.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to buy a new one?”
“It’s a perfectly good tire,” he said. “Or will be once it’s patched.” He could let her go on her way, but he didn’t want her disappearing when she was hands down the most interesting interruption he’d had in a while. Plus, that whole serve-and-protect thing didn’t stop because he was off the clock.
She stifled a yawn. “How do I find him?”
“He’s a craftsman. Makes furniture, but he’s fixed up my truck a time or three. Kind of a jack of all trades. His name’s Anthony Renaldo.”
She bit her lip.
“Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He hooked the tire with one forearm and stood. “Look him up online, or ask around. Most of the shop owners know him.”
“Anthony Renaldo,” she repeated, looking more tired than wary.
“Yep. Drive slow on the spare, okay? Ant can put your patched tire back on for you. He’ll charge you a fair price.”
She moved to put the jack and tools back into the trunk. Before he left, he needed to know one more thing.
“What’s your name? To give to Ant for when you come to collect.”
She hesitated for a second before answering. “Elliott.”
“Elliott. I’m Brady.”
“Yeah, I heard.” Her eyes flickered to where the other woman’s car had been parked.
“Okay, then. Remember—”
“Anthony Renaldo. Drive slow.”
He smiled. He liked her. A lot more than he should since she didn’t seem to like him at all. “About your Navy SEAL boyfriend…”
She paused with her driver’s side door open.
“This fitness center is better than the commercial one on Elm.”
“I’ll let him know.” A hint of a smile appeared, and that felt like a win.
“Welcome to the Cove, Elliott.” He walked to his truck, tossed the tire into the bed and waited until she was on her way before leaving the lot.
Chapter 3
Elliott was pretty sure the good-looking stranger hadn’t believed she had a boyfriend. She’d vacillated between trusting him and not trusting him. In the end, she’d landed somewhere in the middle.
She couldn’t blame herself, and who would? She’d trusted Neil, and he’d been exactly the wrong person to trust with her heart or her person. His manipulations had been so subtle, and his control had increased so slowly, she was reminded of the metaphor of a frog in water. Drop the amphibian into boiling water, he’d leap out. But put him in warm water and slowly crank up the heat, he’d stay there until he died.
Wow. That’s gross.
She shook off her musings about cooking harmless frogs and pulled out the cooler first. She’d parked in the garage of her parents’ beautiful lake home. It was waterfront property, a grassy lawn leading to their sandy beach and dock. They’d sold the boat years ago, having rarely used it. According to her dad, he was too old to take care of it. But none of that mattered to her. She was looking forward to a new view, a break from the city, and she didn’t need a giant house—even though she had one—or a boat.
She put her groceries away and dropped her suitcase in the master bedroom. Too tired to unpack, she instead pulled open the balcony door and admired the view. The water was dark, the sky choked with stars. She hadn’t visited Evergreen Cove since she was a kid, and she hadn’t realized until right now how much she’d missed it.
There was no pressing business, no one demanding she sit here or stop doing that. And while she hadn’t walked on pins and needles at her parents’ house, she still felt as if she should behave a certain way around them, whether they expected it or not.
She pulled in a deep, cleansing breath. Now she could just…relax. Which was a little unnerving, but she was trying to lean in. She’d been on guard for so long, she wasn’t sure if she remembered how to relax anymore. Proving that point, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and scrolled through her favorite social media app. The friends she’d had before Neil were still on her friend’s list, and every so often, she’d see a party or a dinner or gathering they went to together. There was a time she would’ve been part of the mix, and there would be a time again. She’d vowed that after the break in Evergreen Cove, she’d go back to Chicago and reclaim those friendships. She just had to find herself first.
She closed the balcony door and went downstairs to put the kettle on for her nightly peppermint tea. She should’ve been tired enough to sleep without it, but the rush of a car nearly flattening her—and Brady—had left her alert.
She flipped on the burner under the teakettle, feeling relaxed in the homey atmosphere. Her parents had mentioned selling this place, or possibly renting it out. It was sad to think of them not keeping it, but it was equally sad to picture the house sitting empty, save a monthly cleaning to keep the shelves dust free.
Being here reminded her of scampering along the manmade beach and water’s edge, lounging on the deck as a teenager, or sulking in the upstairs bedroom. This visit, she’d be inhabiting the master suite, the one with the balcony and the hot tub.
She was looking forward to reuniting with the woman she’d been before she met Neil. The woman who knew what she wanted, had confidence to spare, and was generally happy and excited about life.
Neil hadn’t wanted her to leave their shared house, insisting she had everything she needed in their corner of the world. And while the house had been home to her for years, it’d lacked a certain something she hadn’t been able to put her finger on until today.
Love. It’d lacked love.
Love from Neil, love for her own life, and even self-love. She’d prioritized a man who purposefully kept her from her friends, her parents, a job, and her hobbies. He’d successfully isolated her from everyone she knew. He’d deemed it “wasteful” for her to visit a gym since there was a state-of-the-art in-home fitness center in the basement.
As a result, her girlfriends had grown distant. They were grainy, blurry images hovering in the background of what once was her life. There was no one in Chicago she was still in contact with—no yoga instructor, since she didn’t visit the gym, no boss at work, since she didn’t have a job. No one but Desmond and Rosella McKinley, otherwise known as Mom and Dad.
“That changes now,” she decreed as she settled on the deck with her mug of tea. The moon, high and fat in the sky, winked its agreement. She’d once been social and savvy. She could be that again. Her eyes went to the darkened houses along the beach. Maybe she could introduce herself around wh
ile she was here. She might as well practice being social again.
She winced as she thought of the attractive guy who’d bailed her out tonight with the tire. She hadn’t been that nice to him, and he’d seemed nice enough. His generous mouth and smile, his long, strong gait as he’d carried her tire off to the tire hospital. Against her will, her stomach fluttered with excitement, at the newness of a stray dart of attraction. At being in a position to react to a man like Brady.
But she wasn’t in Evergreen Cove to be saved by a knight in shining armor, or a hometown boy who was a helpful citizen. She was here to remember how to be her own person again. That didn’t involve a guy with dark-blond hair and a warm smile.
No matter how nice he was.
Chapter 4
Seventy-five-year-old Emory Hutchins was Brady’s dad’s dad and quite possibly the best human being on the planet.
Though Brady was biased, given the man had raised him when his parents were killed at an intersection on their way back from an anniversary trip. Brady’d been five years old at the time, and what was meant to be a temporary stay with his grandparents had morphed into a permanent home and a truckload of grief too big for any kid to endure. In a blink, he’d been moved from his home in Cincinnati to the opposite end of the state to live with Gramps and Gram.
Brady didn’t remember much from that time, save confusion. He hadn’t had the tools to understand grief and its many nuances. Even now it had a way of walloping him out of the blue. He’d been a complacent kid and an angry teenager. Hell, his grandparents had assumed he would wind up on the opposite side of the law he now served.
The year his grandmother passed away of cancer had changed both Brady and Emory. His grandfather had been heartbroken, and while he’d lost that glimmer in his eye, his good-natured outlook on life rarely wavered. He’d loved and encouraged Brady more fiercely than before.
Gramps had never remarried or dated, which was why Brady insisted on dropping off Lila on the days he went to work. Leaving the dog alone at home for twelve hours was too long, and Gramps had leaped at the chance for canine company. Brady had thought they’d be good for each other, and he was right.
The old man was a playful, smiling burst of sunshine in Evergreen Cove, and since adding Lila to the mix, he’d become more of those things.
“Eat something,” his grandfather demanded, sliding another pancake onto a plate of sloppily stacked flapjacks.
Lila, tail wagging, her eyes on the spatula in Emory’s hand, gave an excited bark.
Gramps leaned down to the blond-and-white dog and patted her head with one hand. “You’ll get one, Pancake. It’s your namesake.”
“You’re spoiling her.”
“Spoiled you,” Gramps shot back, pouring batter into the pan. “You turned out fine.”
Brady ate a plate of pancakes as instructed, even though carbing up wasn’t a preferred morning activity. He would’ve liked to go for a run, stop by Cup of Jo’s, and then head into work.
Instead, he skipped the run but made the stop at Jo’s. An hour later, he was hunched over his desk, finishing reports he’d been putting off, his cup of coffee a memory.
“What are you up to tonight, Hutchins?” Fellow officer Darrin Strickland asked as he ambled by.
“Glorified bouncer. Patrolling Endless Avenue. You?”
“Night off. I’ll be looking for a summer hottie to be the next contestant in Who Wants to be Sexually Satisfied?” Darrin grinned. “You spot me in one of those bars you’re patrolling, brother, stay back and let me do my thing.”
“Why? Afraid she’ll like me better? I will be in uniform.” Brady gave Darrin an exaggerated eyebrow waggle.
“Everyone knows I’m better looking than you.” Darrin straightened his collar.
“I guess if I see you tonight, we’ll find out.” Brady stacked the report he’d just finished on top of the others. Thank God, that was done. His eyes were crossing. He was ready to be outside doing something useful.
“Be safe out there, man.”
Brady liked Darrin, though his bragging about prowess was exaggerated. He’d bet Darrin struck out way more than he hit home runs in the dating department. As for Brady, he didn’t date. He preferred mutually agreed-upon hookups that allowed him to resume his life as usual after. He’d had enough upsets in his life to try and put anything permanent in place. He was more comfortable knowing things would come to an end.
He refilled his cup of coffee with a less-than-desirable brand from the break room, his thoughts back on the woman he’d helped out Sunday night. Elliott, with her large eyes and larger chip on her shoulder had lingered in his periphery, even though he hadn’t seen her around since.
“What are you smiling about?” Faye, one of their dispatchers, asked as she strode by.
Answering honestly—that he was smiling over a memory of dark hair and cautious eyes—would only get him into more trouble, so he called out, “Mind your business!”
Faye laughed.
Outside, Brady scanned the road as per his habit. He saw no Beemer with one spare tire. From a purely curious standpoint, he wondered what had put the shadow in Elli’s eyes. It seemed different than the one that’d haunted him after his parents died, but no less poignant.
His cell rang. Anthony’s name lit the screen. A kick to the chest that could be caution or excitement preceded his greeting. “Ant, what’s up.”
“Elliott’s tire’s still here.”
“She hasn’t picked it up yet?”
“Nope.”
“She shows up, I’d appreciate a last name.”
“It’ll cost you,” Ant said, a smile in his voice. “Pick out a piece from my stash. It’s getting crowded in here.”
Ant made unique, sturdy furniture and was an amazing chainsaw sculptor. But… “Not exactly a high-end-furniture kind of guy,” Brady told his friend.
“You want a last name, Hutch, you’re going to have to become one.” Ant hung up.
Brady grunted a laugh. They’d been friends since they were both shithead teenagers. They might not be as infamous as the Penis Bandits—the nickname Evan and his friends earned for covering the library in spray-painted phalluses—but Brady and Ant had torn up this town in their own way.
They’d grown up, though. Now they were content to serve it.
Elliott’s first week in Evergreen Cove had been uneventful. She hadn’t left the house, having brought enough groceries for her meals for the week.
She did run out of beer, though, which was tragic. She was going to remedy that tonight, which meant taking the car out, and “driving slowly” as per her knight in shining armor’s instruction. She realized she didn’t know his last name, and then she reminded herself she didn’t need his last name. She only needed her tire, which was an errand she intended on taking care of today, before this Anthony Renaldo guy was stuck with her patched tire and not being paid for his work.
Outside, she waded into the water up to her knees and waved—again—as a boat passed by. Her arm was tired from waving. Evergreen Cove had possibly the friendliest boaters she’d ever seen, and after spending quite a bit of time alone, it was almost jarring.
She heard a door open behind her and turned her head. A woman with sun-kissed brown hair stepped onto the porch of the house next door and put both hands on the railing, taking in the sunshine.
Elli had spotted the other woman throughout the week. She appeared to be around Elli’s age, or a few years older, and had a cool, breezy vibe about her. Elliott wanted to introduce herself but had chickened out. She swallowed thickly. Guess today was the day. Turning, she strode up the sand.
The other woman smiled pleasantly as she came down her porch steps, her hands in the pockets of her shredded shorts, her thick bangs blowing over her forehead.
“Hi. I’m Elliott. I’m staying next door.”
“Lourdes Daniels.” She offered a hand, which Elliott shook. “Everyone calls me Lou. I didn’t know the McKinleys were renting this pl
ace out until I saw you milling around.” Lou glanced up at the house, one blue eye squinting against the bright afternoon sunshine.
“They’re not. I’m their daughter.”
“Really. Your mom skews young. I thought she was like, ten years older than me, and that you were sixteen.”
“Thirty, actually.”
“Me, too. Heard you live in Michigan. Your mom’s the friendly, talkative type, and you’ll find most Evergreeners are.”
“Used to live in Michigan. I guess I’m an Ohioan. An Evergreener. Temporarily anyway,” Elliott said, uncomfortable. Talking about herself was like an atrophied muscle since she’d done it so infrequently over recent years. “I was uh, wondering if you knew where a girl could get a drink around here?”
Ugh. That was even worse.
“Are you asking me out?” Lou grinned.
“No! Not that I wouldn’t. I mean, you seem nice.”
“Relax, I’m teasing you. If you’d like a girls’ night while you’re in the Cove, I’m up for it. What’s your poison? Beer? Wine? Cocktail?”
Lou was easy to like, her confidence contagious. Elli could stand to catch a little of that for herself.
“I’m more a beer girl than anything. I’m out of stock, though, so I thought I’d head to town later. If you’d like to come…” She was about to take her offer back for fear of being turned down—making new friends as an adult was harder than she’d thought—when Lou clapped her hands with excitement.
“Love to.” Lou waved as another boat trolled by. “I was craving Salty Dog today. Best nachos on the planet. Have you been?”
“No. New place?”
“Ten years ago it was.” Lou’s smile was kind. “Don’t visit much?”
Elliott shook her head.
“Well, then you must visit Salty Dog. My treat to welcome you to the neighborhood. It’s the best place in town when you want fried food and great conversation. It lacks pretension, which is becoming a harder and harder thing to find around here. Assuming you’re not one of them?”
Bad Boy Blues (Evergreen Cove Book 1) Page 2