by Dani Pettrey
“Even God rested on the seventh day.” Piper smiled.
Cole chuckled. “She’s got a good point.” It would do Bailey good to be around people instead of cooped up alone in Agnes’s shop all day. Besides, the thought of spending more time with her was quite appealing. It couldn’t go anywhere. They couldn’t go anywhere. Not beyond a renewed friendship. As long as he had that concrete line fixed in his mind, he’d be all right.
Bailey bit her bottom lip. “I . . . um . . .”
“Just for a bit,” Piper said. “Long enough to eat one of Gage’s amazing burgers.”
Poor Bailey. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His sister had that effect. “I can give you a lift or walk you back to the Post whenever you’re ready to go,” he said, hoping to sway the scales while still giving Bailey an out.
“All right. But just for a little while. I really do have a lot to get done.”
“Great.” Piper linked her arm with Bailey’s. “Cole had a meeting before church, so we drove separately—why don’t you ride with me?”
Bailey’s heart thudded as they turned onto the McKennas’ drive. Kayden and Piper had been kind to her, Reef didn’t live in Yancey anymore—smart man—but what about Gage? He was closest in age to her and Cole. He knew the down-and-dirty of her past. How would he react to her presence?
She swallowed as they rounded the bend and the two-story house appeared on the horizon, steadfast against the rocky shore, the sea and the sky its backdrop. Bright bunches of fuchsia and yellow balloons danced in the breeze, and streamers fluttered from the porch posts.
“They didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” Piper said amidst an enormous smile. She pulled to a stop in the crook of the drive.
Kayden stepped from the house, Aurora bounding after her. “Guys, Piper’s back,” she hollered.
Bailey hefted a bag of soda from the backseat and stepped from the vehicle, praying her legs held. Why couldn’t she stop shaking? What did she think Gage would do . . . remind Cole of what she’d done to him, how she’d cast him aside, or of who she used to be?
Gage rounded the corner, a basketball tucked under his arm. He was taller, a good six feet three, long, lean, and chiseled.
A man she didn’t recognize rounded the porch after him.
“Gage, you remember Bailey Craig, don’t you?” Piper said.
Bailey swallowed. Please. I know I don’t deserve it, but please let him be kind.
“Sure.” He smiled. “How ya been?”
She exhaled, her body shaky with relief. “Good, thanks.” How could they all be so kind to her after what she’d done?
“Nice to see you again,” Kayden said.
“You too.”
“This is Jake Westin,” Piper said, wrapping her arm around the man. “But he’s an adopted McKenna.”
Jake smiled and extended a hand.
Kayden sighed. “Not literally.”
Jake’s smile disappeared.
“Don’t mind her,” Gage said, squeezing Kayden’s shoulders. “She acts like a bear when she’s hungry.”
“I do not.” She reached for the bag in Bailey’s arms. “Let me get that for you.”
“Thanks.”
Cole hefted a cooler onto the picnic table at the base of the porch steps, his muscular forearms flexing with the movement. He’d changed into his usual casual attire—T-shirt, board shorts, and flip-flops.
“Glad you decided to come,” he said quietly when everyone else’s attention was diverted on unloading supplies.
She glanced in Piper’s direction. “Don’t think I had much of a choice.”
He chuckled. “None at all. I’m afraid when Piper sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her.”
20
Bailey kept out of the way, observing the McKenna clan at work—unpacking bags, tucking platters in the fridge, feeding the husky. Everyone worked independently yet in unison.
It was fascinating, and a bit depressing, watching a family actually interacting like a family.
They were each other’s home—a home and family, minus the parents. She hadn’t thought that possible. Nothing had been right in her life since her parents split—not that much had been right before that.
“Hey.” Cole angled to look her in the eyes. “You all right?”
She nodded, burying her emotions and fixing a happy face. She’d become proficient at it. “Fine.”
“You say that an awful lot.”
Leave it to Cole to call her on it.
“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m starving,” Gage said.
Kayden shouldered past him with a bowl of chips. “Aren’t you always?”
Gage swiped a handful. “I’m a growing boy.”
“You got the boy part right.”
“A bear when she’s hungry.” Gage hefted the bag of charcoal over his shoulder. “I better get the grill going.”
Jake stood. “I’ll give you a hand.”
Gage slid on his Kiss the Cook chef hat. “You can watch and learn from the master, my good man.”
Piper chuckled.
Kayden sighed. “Don’t encourage him.”
“She can’t help it.” Gage squeezed Piper’s shoulder. “She knows I’m hilarious.”
Kayden cracked a grin. “Such a mess.”
“Enough talk,” Gage said. “Let’s get this party started. Cole, you’re on patties.”
“Got it.”
“Piper, you’re in charge of ice and drinks.”
“On it.”
“Kayden, how are the sides coming?”
“Done.”
Gage dipped his head. “Of course they are. Let’s see. . . . You can set up tables.”
“Already started.”
“Excellent.” He looked to Jake. “Shall we make a fire?”
“I’ll keep the extinguisher handy,” Kayden said as she strolled from the room.
Bailey slipped into a chair, content to just sit back and observe.
Cole reached for her hand. “No watching allowed. You can help me with the patties.”
You can do this. You can take his hand.
It closed around hers, his skin soft and firm. He was warm, and his heat radiated through her. She swallowed hard. “Patties.”
“Right.” He nodded, not budging.
“You’ll want to change first,” Piper said.
Bailey jerked in her direction, forgetting anyone else was still in the room. “What?”
“You don’t want to make hamburger patties in your nice suit. You can borrow something of mine.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
“Nonsense. I bet we’re the same size.” Piper started up the steps, then paused when she didn’t follow. “Come on. We’ll get you fixed right up.”
Bailey looked at Cole.
He smirked. “When Piper makes up her mind . . .”
She chuckled. “I know.”
Cole dumped the meat, bread crumbs, and chopped onions into a large glass mixing bowl.
Hearing footsteps, he looked up.
Two sandaled feet with pink toenails appeared first, followed by two long, shapely legs, a pair of cream shorts, a black T-shirt, and finally Bailey’s gorgeous face. She’d let her hair down, and it fell in soft amber waves across her shoulders.
“Wow.”
She nearly missed the bottom step, her cheeks tingeing pink. “It’s just a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably.
“Casual looks good on you.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was breathtaking.
She eyed the mixing bowl. “We ready here?”
“Almost, but first I must swear you to secrecy.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. What follows is a McKenna recipe that’s been in our family for over two years.” He widened his eyes with mock gravity. “You must promise never to reveal what you learn here.”
<
br /> “Okay.”
He arched a brow.
“Scout’s honor.”
“Very well, we may proceed.”
They added chopped onions and garlic, several routine spices, and then Cole paused for dramatic effect. “Now, for the pièce de résistance.” He held up a jar of cocoa powder.
“Cocoa? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I know it sounds weird. . . .”
“Borderline disgusting.”
“It’s delicious. I promise.”
“How’d you even come up with it?”
“Gage, in one of his creating stages. He’s quite the chef.”
Her gaze flashed to the patio door and she laughed. “He seems quite enthralled with grilling too.”
Cole looked over her shoulder at Gage battling three-foot flames with a water bottle. “He calls it grilling with style.”
She laughed. “I can see that.
Bailey grimaced as the hamburger slipped through her fingers. “Oooh. Reminds me of Halloween parties.”
Cole arched a brow.
“You know, when your friends turn their basement into a haunted house and have all the mystery bowls you have to stick your hands into. Peeled grapes for eyeballs. Spaghetti noodles for brains.”
He leaned against the counter. “Sounds like you had some interesting friends.”
“That’s an understatement.” Though, looking back, she’d never really had any close friends growing up, never truly fit in.
She was always the odd girl out, always watching from the periphery, wondering why she was different and what was wrong with her. Why her family didn’t resemble those happy ones where the parents actually spent time with their kids, actually seemed to enjoy goofing around together the way Cole and his siblings did.
The old familiar ache in the pit of her stomach returned, and she bolstered herself for the wave of nausea that typically followed.
She forced herself to focus on the task at hand, working the meat into a perfectly shaped patty, and then held it up for inspection.
Cole gave a lopsided grin. “Close . . .”
He moved behind her and reached his arms around her; taking her hands, he helped her shape a bigger patty. For a brief moment she let herself enjoy the warmth and security of his strong arms.
“How we coming on the—” Gage stopped short at the sight of them.
Bailey jolted, rearing her head back. It collided with Cole’s face.
He grunted.
She covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry. I was startled . . .”
“It’s okay.” Blood streamed across his lip. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back.
“I can’t believe I did that.” She rummaged around for a towel.
“I’ll come back.” With a smirk, Gage turned heel and slid the door shut behind him.
“Here.” She handed Cole a paper towel. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Good as new.” He straightened once the blood clotted and wiped the residue from his face. “Pursuing adventure for a living I get more than my fair share of knocks. Getting a backwards head-butt from a beautiful lady is nothing to complain about.”
She bit her bottom lip. “I have no idea how to take that.”
“Trust me. . . .” He winked. “It’s a huge compliment.”
21
The guests arrived in droves.
Bailey followed Cole onto the patio. Clusters of people dotted the expansive back lawn—stretching from the majestic line of evergreens rimming the north side of the property all the way to the sandy beach lining the east side of their land. “Looks like you invited all of Yancey.”
“That would be Piper. I only invited one.”
“Oh.” She tried not to squeak the word. All this time spent with Cole was dangerous. Very dangerous. She was beginning to long for things she could never have. At least not in Yancey, and never with Cole.
“Let me introduce you around, or reintroduce, I suppose.”
She stepped back. “Nah, that’s okay. I’m good here.”
He studied her a moment, then nodded.
He understood. Which . . . while good on the one hand was very bad on the other. It meant he’d discovered the chink in her self-reliant armor—she cared what others thought, and that made her vulnerable. Something she’d vowed never to be again.
“I’ll get us something to drink.”
“Lemonade would be great.”
“You got it.” He headed in the direction of the smoke. The yard was too crowded to see Gage at the grill, but the scent of charred meat wafted along the breeze. At least there was lots of potato salad.
“Bailey.” Gus shuffled toward her with a big grin on his face. “So good to see you here.”
“Thanks.”
“How’s everything coming with the Post?”
“Slowly getting it in order.”
“Good to hear.” He slathered a chip with dip. “You’ve got to try this. It’s phenomenal.” He popped it into his mouth and red flushed his ears.
“Spicy?”
He nodded. “Just the way I like it.”
She laughed.
He offered her one.
“No thanks.” She was waiting for the butterflies to settle before she added anything to her stomach. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, have you found anyone who is interested in buying the Post?”
He took the opportunity to shove another chip in his mouth, then held up a finger to signal he needed a minute.
“Bailey.” Landon stepped up beside her. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, thanks.”
“Looks like Piper overdid it again.”
“I think it’s nice so many people want to celebrate with her.” Bailey’s birthdays usually consisted of Carrie and a couple of ladies from church. She couldn’t imagine having so many friends and such a loving family.
“Yeah, it’s hard to believe she’s already twenty-three.”
“You’ve known the McKennas long?”
“Since kindergarten. The year Piper was born, in fact.”
“Wow. So you’ve known her her whole life.”
“Yeah.” His gaze landed on Piper and he smiled. “I guess I have.”
“Landon.” A gaudily dressed woman strutted over. “I want to talk to you.”
Landon sighed. “Thelma Jenkins, you’re looking well.” She wore a brightly flowered Hawaiian blouse over a pair of red slacks.
“Don’t go trying to change the subject.” She waggled her finger.
“I didn’t know we were on a subject.” Landon shrugged.
Thelma narrowed her eyes, the green sparkly shadow across her lids glittered brightly in the sun’s rays. She shielded her eyes, squinting at Landon. “I heard there was another murder on that boat of Cleary’s that you all towed in.”
“Now, where did you hear that?”
“Never mind where I heard that. Is it true?”
“We’re here for Piper’s birthday. It’s not the time or the place to discuss an ongoing police investigation.”
“Don’t you give me that, young man. I am a concerned citizen, and I have a right to know if a killer is on the loose. We all have a right to know if we’re in danger.”
Mayor Cox pressed his way into the conversation. “Danger? Not in Yancey.” Bailey had met the mayor as she and Cole were leaving the sheriff’s station on Thursday night and was not at all surprised by his eagerness to placate Thelma. He wrapped his arm around the woman’s shoulders and steered her away from Landon. “Now, I can assure you, Thelma, you are in absolutely no danger.”
Landon exhaled. “Great. The last thing we need is Thelma Jenkins stirring up panic.”
“Do you think Mayor Cox is telling her the truth? Do you think she’s in any danger?”
“I don’t believe those murders were random. As long as she doesn’t have what the killer needs, she’s safe.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel much be
tter.”
Landon sighed. “Or me.”
Bailey sat on the stone bench beneath the poplar trees, alone for the first time all afternoon. If being surrounded by a hundred people could be considered alone. She’d tried slinking back in the shadows, tried spending the day on the fringes, but the McKennas would have none of it. Each gently tugged her into the festivities, making her feel welcome and wanted. It was a foreign feeling—strange and addictive. One she didn’t want to end but knew it eventually would.
She slipped her feet from the sandals and let the grass tickle her toes as a breeze riffled through it, her mind still lingering on her conversation with Landon. Would finding the sunken church really solve the case? Would finding the icon lead them to the killer, or the killer to them?
“Mind if I take a load off?” Jake asked.
She scooted over. “Not at all.”
She had to admit, Jake piqued her curiosity. With the marked exception of Kayden, the McKennas treated him as one of their own, and he clearly reciprocated their affection, but something in his sheltered gaze and guarded manner said he believed he didn’t belong. She understood the feeling all too well. And it made her wonder what Jake’s story was. Why he’d transplanted to Alaska of all places?
It appeared nobody knew anything about the man before he turned up in Yancey.
He offered her a soda.
“Thanks.” She popped the top and took a sip. The day had grown increasingly warm, the temperature pushing eighty. A scorcher in Yancey. She was thankful for the cooler attire Piper had provided.
“Enjoying yourself?” Jake asked.
“Actually, I am.” She grimaced at how that must have sounded, but Jake only smiled over the rim of his root beer.
He wiped the foam from his lip. “I’m glad.”
Cole waved across the yard, and she waved back.
“He’s a good man,” Jake said.
Her cheeks warmed and she looked down, fiddling with the tab of her can. Which is why he’d never have a future with a girl like me. “They’re a great family.”
“That they are.”
“They seem to count you as part of it.”
Jake smiled on an intake of breath. “Most of them.” He reclined. “You should be careful or the same thing will happen to you.”