The other night at the restaurant, Kyle had been the only one wearing a two-hundred-dollar shirt, starched and meticulously ironed, with gold cufflinks. Okay...so he’d ditched the tie, but no doubt it, too, likely cost more than she spent on groceries in a week.
Dare I consider his offer to visit Last Chance Beach?
Odin whined and tipped his regal-looking head.
“What are you suggesting, big guy? You don’t even know the man. He’s not like anyone we’ve ever met. Certainly not like anyone I’ve ever dated.”
Cassie scowled when the dog continued to stare as if judging her.
Was that necessarily a bad thing, that Kyle S. Worthington was different than any of her exes? Every relationship she’d had crashed and burned. Cinders and smoke. Salt the doorways and sage the entire place so they couldn’t come back.
Yet was she brave enough to take a huge leap out of her comfort zone? Family members. Kids. Happy, smiling people, buying pumpkins, and apple cider. And *gasp* getting their faces painted like fairies and cats.
Cassie flopped back into her chair, stewing.
She was a self-proclaimed loner. Tough as nails. Street smart. A gifted researcher who kept her head down, worked nonstop, while her heart remained walled off in a tower. It was the only way not to get burned again.
Odin dropped his head to the armrest and gave a sad, little groan.
“Yeah...and it’s the only way not to have any fun either.”
Apparently, even her mother was living a better life. Living in Oregon with an off-the-grid-type guy with horses and goats. Not that she blamed her. Her father was toxic. Rarely sober and always looking for a handout. Hardly the type of person you wanted to find you. It’d been years since Cassie tried to be his daughter. The experience leaving a bitter taste in her mouth for anything more from him.
With a ragged sigh, she scooped up her cellphone and did a quick search for Last Chance Beach. A vacation island paradise where dreams go to live again and love is found when it’s least expected.
Oh, dear God. She rolled her eyes and made a gag face.
“Places to stay,” she muttered under her breath as her eyes darted across the screen. “B&B’s...” She clicked and scrolled. “Huh...Sandpiper Cottage. Innkeeper, long-time resident, Haddie Marshall.”
Cassie’s heart gave a little lurch at the idyllic pic. The woman she assumed was Kyle’s grandmother—a real salt-of-the-earth looking type—smiling brightly from a whimsical porch. Flowerpots, wicker chairs with throw pillows, windchimes, and a big Yellow Lab.
Charming. Not a mansion or limousine in sight.
She looked to Odin. “What do you say, big fella, you wanna go to the beach this weekend?”
“KYLE?”
Cassie Corwin’s breathless voice drifted through the speaker system of Kyle’s sportscar.
“Cassie, yes. What a nice surprise,” he rushed to say. Excitement coursed through him. “What can I do for you?”
She hesitated. “I was thinking about your offer the other day...to visit Last Chance Beach.”
Kyle held his breath, sensing victory.
“I’d like to take you up on that offer. If it’s still good.”
“Certainly, it’s good. I’m glad to hear you had a change of heart.” His wide smile would not be denied. “Although there’s one problem. It’s Thursday, and I’m already on my way.” He glanced in his mirrors as he eased out onto the highway.
“No worries. I prefer to drive myself.”
He schooled his enthusiasm, though his head soared into the clouds. This changed everything. Word of the day? Pivot!
“There’s just one thing...”
“Anything. Name it,” he fired back.
“I have a dog. Would it be okay to bring him? He’s friendly. And quiet,” she quickly added.
“Sure, bring your puper. Gran’s Sandpiper Cottage is super pet friendly.”
“Gran?” she murmured in a low, sexy voice. “That’s sweet. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Kyle sped past a sign for a store selling lottery tickets, and he made the instant decision to peel off and buy one. Today was his lucky day. “I’ll text you the address when I stop in a few.”
“No need. I’ve already done my research.”
Clever lady.
“Good,” he said. “When shall I expect you then?”
“Friday around noon, if that works. If not,” she hedged.
“No. Friday is great,” Kyle said, exuding confidence, though inside he was running with his hands in the air.
“Okay...” She released an audible sigh. “Until tomorrow then.”
CHAPTER 3
Kyle stood in the blazing sun, considering the place he’d visited almost every summer until he was eleven. Time hadn’t changed much about the Sandpiper Cottage. The white clapboard, turn-of-the-century farmhouse was still a quintessential Last Chance Beach property. Situated on the sleepy side of the island. Four bedrooms upstairs. One master downstairs, reserved for Gran and Grandpa Mike.
His heart gave a little squeeze at the memory of the last time he’d been here. It was right after is beloved grandfather, Mike Marshall, passed away.
Doing a three-sixty, Kyle took it all in. Tall, golden grasses, rustling and swaying in the hot, ocean breeze. Turquoise water visible past the road and pristine white beach beyond. A stretch of manicured lawns around the building. The last of the beach roses in bloom. The place looked good. Damn good. Especially since his oldest sister, Kat, had relocated to help care for the place.
The initial plan had been to move Gran to a luxury condo on the mainland after Grandpa Mike died. AKA an old-folks home, but he hadn’t argued with his forceful mother. Kat did. She couldn’t handle it. She loved this place too much, having spent way more time here than he had as a kid. Kudos to his devoted big sister. He wouldn’t have uprooted his life. More accurately, couldn’t have. No way would the old man let him deviate from the path laid out for him.
Grabbing his bag and laptop case, Kyle wound his way around the back of the house. His leather topsiders crunched gravel and crushed seashells as he passed the firepit and same charcoal grill he remembered from childhood. A memory flitted through his mind...Grandpa Mike showing him how to light both without burning down the house or killing himself.
Off to the left was Secondhand Hearts Antique Shop, the other business his grandparents owned and operated for almost as long as they’d had the inn. Fifty years. Christ, I’m only twenty-nine. Okay...thirty soon. That was a long-time commitment to a lifestyle and place.
Lots of memories surrounded the antique shop as well. Two floors of cool, old junk—antiques, novelties, even some treasures—with a third-floor storage level. Hours of playing hide and seek with his two sisters and any other straggler kids, hanging around. This place was a magnet for do-drop-inners, because of his grandparents’ renowned hospitality.
Kyle paused for a moment, his gaze fixating on the big red barn with the metal roof. The third floor had the hay door he’d always been intrigued by.
Like a horror movie, playing in his head, he recalled that one sweltering summer afternoon when he’d gone up to the third floor alone on a dare. Dare? It was a double dog dare. No way could I back down without being labeled a chicken for life. Step, by agonizing step, he’d climbed those rickety, pine stairs. They were open on one side, he recalled, shaking his head. Kids were never allowed up there because of those open stairs, for fear someone would fall. Their creaking sounds sent terror straight to his heart, as he inched along. Breaking all the rules so the other kids would believe he was brave. He’d held his breath at the top step, trembling with fear. Something touched his arm and whispered—
“Kyle?”
He jumped and spun with a gasp, nearly throwing his bags.
“What are you doing out here in this heat, Sugar-pie?” Gran asked. “Get up here and give your old grandma a hug.”
Kyle set down his things and sprinted up the steps to where Gran waite
d with her arms open wide for him. He pulled her soft, warm body against his and closed his eyes, savoring the love she poured into him.
Lemons. Amazing. The woman still smells like tart lemons. Fresh, pure, honest, and sunny. That was Gran, and Kyle adored her.
“Let me look at you, child.” The seventy-eight-year-old gave him the once over with her keen, old eyes. “Land sakes alive, you’re even better looking than last time you were here. When was that...ten years ago?”
Kyle chuckled and squeezed her again. “Three years, Gran. When grandpa passed, remember? I came for the funeral and stayed on a few days longer with Mom and Kendall.”
Gran ignored his words and instead shuffled him to the back door. “Your mama isn’t here yet. I don’t know where she’s at. Heather’s always late except if she’s bringing bad news. Kendall isn’t coming this year. Your baby sister has too much on her plate with the wedding and all. Kat is out with Ben and some of his friends. They’re gathering all more things for the festival.”
“Pretty exciting news,” he said with a light chuckle. “Kat told me you guys were hosting the maze and the pumpkin patch this year?”
“So I’m told. We’ve been selling typical autumn things—cornstalk, pumpkins, and mums—every weekend. But this one will be bigger. Kat assures me she and Ben have everything under control. And that you’re here to help. So, I don’t have to fret much. Have you met Ben Hadley yet?
“Not in person. Just on video chat. Once, when they first started dating.”
“Ben’s good people. You’ll like him.”
Following Gran into the kitchen, Kyle marveled at how everything was the same. The long, farm-style wooden table in the center of the room...The vintage porcelain stove collectors would kill for these days. Navy-blue, windowed cupboards with dishes, glasses, and mugs lined up “just so” as Gran called it on white doilies.
He’d learned to play cards in this room. Ate his first lobster wearing a bib. Downed gallons of fresh, cold milk with chocolate chip cookies. And got his first of many stitches from Old Doc Parker. Amazingly, house calls were still a thing on Last Chance Beach when he was a kid. Now, Kat said there was EMS, police, and a fire department on the island. “Growing like a weed,” Gran had remarked about the once small community of year-round residents.
“I’ve got your old room ready,” she said now, jarring him from his musings.
“Great. Has Kat short-sheeted my bed yet?” he asked only half teasing.
“Nonsense...none of that now. You kids know you must behave in my house. Go on,” she encouraged. “You know the way. Get settled and come on down again. I want to hear all about your fancy lifestyle.”
“Okay,” he said with a sheepish grin, wishing instead they could just sit on the front porch with some sweat tea and watch the grass grow.
The interior of the old house was darker, cooler. Wide pine floorboards squeaked with each step, as he wound his way through the familiar labyrinth of hallways and rooms. The living room, now with an upgraded TV. The formal front parlor with antique furnishings and games for guests to play. He loved the paintings dotting the walls, seabirds, and ocean views. There was even a fireplace there, though it wasn’t used often, unless there was “a cool spell,” as Gran would call it.
Sunlight shone through blue glass transom above the wide front door. Light rippled through the tiny foyer and up part of the well-worn mahogany staircase. He remembered jumping off those stairs into the wavering blue light, playing mermaids—ahem...merpeople—with his two sisters. Kyle chuckled, marveling at the innocence of childhood they’d shared back then.
Up the staircase and down the center hallway...He traveled the way he’d know even if he were blindfolded. Turning the vintage glass doorknob, he’d once thought was a giant diamond, he stepped across the threshold into “his room.” The bedroom he’d been lucky enough to have all to himself.
Well...not entirely.
Kyle stared into the room, willing the ghost of the girl, who’d occupied it when he was a kid, to reveal herself. Yet there was nothing. No hint of anything spooky or supernatural. Just his full-sized bed, now adorned with crisp, nautical bedding and throw pillows. Everything smelled fresh and clean with just a hint of sea air, despite the air conditioning. Too bad it was so hot. He would have liked to sleep with the windows open, listening to the frogs and crickets as he drifted off.
After unpacking a few things, he headed downstairs to find Gran, giving one last look into his bedroom. Still no ghost. Thank God for small blessings, as grandpa always use to say.
“Sit yourself down and have a cookie,” Gran said a few minutes later.
“You made my favorite chocolate chip cookies?” he said with a hopeful groan.
“Of course. There’s milk in the fridge if you want some.”
Kyle practically scrambled to get a mug and fill it before parking himself before his favorite food in the entire world. “Ugh, so good,” he muttered after dunking and stuffing a big one in his mouth.
Gran chuckled and sat down across from him as he scarfed down two more. “Tell me what’s new?”
He chewed and polished off his milk, as he formulated a plan for just how much drama to reveal to his kind-hearted grandmother. “Work is good. I’m busier than ever now that I have a bigger territory.”
“You’re a sales rep for that company your father sits on the board for, correct?” Gran prodded.
Kyle fidgeted in his seat. “Senior Sales Representative now. And yes, Stone is on the board.”
“Stone?” the older lady’s lips pinched to one side in a look of annoyance. “You still insist on calling your father by his first name?”
“Look, Gran, there’s a lot of bad blood between me and my father. I don’t want to waste any time, talking about him. Not when I get so little to spend with you. Suffice to say, we tolerate each other.”
“It’s sad, I tell you. I wish I knew what happened all those years ago when—”
“Gran, please,” he interrupted. He forced a smile for her benefit. “You wanna take a ride in my new car?”
She waved him off. “I heard about your fancy sportscar. Last year, from Kat, when she first came to live here.”
“There’s a new one,” he admitted, laughing.
“Land sakes, Kyle, you must be doing something right. Your mama said you were busting your rear-end to get ahead at The Company.” She stood and refilled his mug with cold milk. “Are you happy?”
Buckle up, buttercup! His instincts warned. Here comes “the talk.” The one where everyone grills him about making good life choices. Where they give their two cents, more like fifty cents, about the direction his life should go in. How bouncing around from relationship to relationship would only make him a mean old man. He’d heard it all over the years.
“Kat said you broke up with that high highfalutin girl. The one with all those followers, or whatever they’re called.”
“Yeah...We weren’t a good match. She was busy, I was busy...”
“That’s a darn shame, Kyle, I’m sorry to hear it. I always hoped my grandkids would be as lucky as me and your grandpa were. Did you know we fell in love on the Last Chance Beach Ferry?”
“I did not know that fun fact,” he said with a grin. Yet Kyle could see it in his mind’s eye. He remembered a torn, yellowed photo Grandpa Mike always carried in his wallet. One of Gran, riding a bike with a basket on the front. When he died, she’d put that old picture in his pocket before the undertaker closed his casket. It’d been the darkest day of Kyle’s life.
“It was island magic that did it for us,” she said, her pale blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
“I’ve heard about your particular brand of magic. Kat swears by it, but I’m not convinced.”
Just then, car sounds came from outside.
“Maybe that’s Kat now. Sounds like Ben’s truck.” The old woman got to her feet and went to the back door. Excited barking came next. “Yup, it’s Ben. That’s his dog, Boomer.” Gran
opened the door, and a big Yellow Lab bounded into the kitchen. It jumped up and began kissing Kyle’s grandmother on the face, as she sputtered and laughed.
“Kyle,” his older sister, Kat, cried with joy upon entering. “I’m so glad you’re hear. Oh my God...I can’t wait to tell you the news. Ben,” she hollered through the back door. “Just come in. My brother is here.”
A tall man with dark hair and a scruffy beard entered with a grin. His big hand stretched immediately out to Kyle. “Kyle...How’s it going, bro?” he asked in a warm, welcoming voice.
Kat went to the man’s side and stuck like glue, and she squeezed his big bicep beneath his t-shirt. “Actually...Funny you should say that...” She jumped up and down as if she were a kid again. She held out her left hand, displaying a hunk of a rock, engagement ring. “Ben just proposed,” she squealed.
“Oh, Lordy,” Gran fanned her face. “Let me see that ring, Kitty child. It’s lovely,” she gushed over the happy couple. “Ben...Kitty...I’m so pleased and proud. And to think, I introduced you two.”
Kyle’s polo shirt suddenly felt two sizes too small. He collected his dishes and brought them to the sink, as everyone chattered on happily behind him.
“Kyle...Kyle...” Kat urged, as she came beside him and enthusiastically slid an arm around his waist. “This is just going to be the best weekend. I can’t wait to hear everything about you, and what you’ve been up to. What’s new in your life. And you can hear all about what we’ve been doing. I got a promotion, and Ben is expanding his business. Last Chance Beach is growing so fast. You won’t recognize downtown,” his sister rambled on at a lightning speed.
“I have a new girlfriend,” he blurted out before he even considered the ramifications.
Kat’s face went blank. Then she screeched with joy, “Oh my God, you didn’t tell me. Who is this mystery woman? What’s she like? Tell me everything!”
Sand, Salt, and Spirits--Last Chance Beach Romance Page 2