Coming Home: Baytown Boys Series

by Maryann Jordan

  Laughing, Mitch agreed. Leaning back on the comfortable sofa, he shook his head. “Dad, I had no idea how much of your time was spent glad-handing everyone in town.”

  “I promise it’ll get better,” his dad assured. His eyes stared down at his hands for a few minutes, lost in thought. “You know, when my dad became the Police Chief, it was 1960. I was six years old and thought he was a god.”

  “You became the Chief right before I was born so I grew up always thinking you were a god as well,” Mitch confessed.

  The two laughed, sharing the experience of growing up as the son of the police chief.

  “But I had no idea that my dad had to spend time working on things as boring as budget meetings and all the other things you had to do. I guess I just thought you chased bad guys.”

  Mitch nodded, having felt the same thing about his dad.

  “I became an officer in 1974 and finally figured out that dad had a job that was way more than what I ever imagined.”

  “Did you ever fear taking over as Chief?”

  Ed grew thoughtful before he answered. “I grew up here in Baytown. Well, we lived out in the county, but this was home. When I was a teenager in the late 1960’s, I couldn’t wait to leave this little place and see the world. Of course, the only place I saw was Vietnam.”

  Mitch held his breath, realizing his father almost never talked about his two years in the Army.

  “By the time I got back, I was ready to come back to this little town and wanted to put down roots here. I’d met Nancy Tolsen in high school and had no idea if she’d still be available, but after I saw my parents, she was the first person I looked up. Couldn’t believe my luck, but I wasn’t about to let anyone else have a shot at that wonderful woman. Put a ring on her finger and joined the police force. I didn’t have to be educated in police science beforehand…not at that time, but I studied at night to get my degree. I think my dad would have kept working but, when mom got cancer, he wanted to spend every minute with her. The mayor and town council asked…and well, I said yes and never regretted it. Dad had big shoes to fill, but I was determined to put my own mark on the job.”

  At that, Mitch’s gaze jumped up to his father’s smiling face. “That’s right, son. You took the job and it’s time for you to make changes to put your own mark on it. And I promise that once you get this initial round of meet-n-greets over with, the job will settle down to more of what you’d like it to be.”

  The two were silent for a moment and then Ed, watching his son carefully, said, “It’ll never be as exciting as your FBI job, but it’ll have its own rewards.”

  “Dad, you have no idea how maddening my job was at times. Had some good cases and met some great people, but I never thought of coming back to Baytown as a step down.”

  With his father’s smile, Mitch felt a weight lift off him. He looked up as his mom walked back into the room, wiping her hands on a dishrag. “You men through with your pow-wow?”

  Patting his lap, Ed grinned, saying, “Come on over, darling. Have a seat.”

  Laughing, she sat down on her husband, her legs dangling over the side of the recliner, her arms around his neck. The three of them sat for a while, reminiscing about Baytown and especially the Baytown Boys. Mitch mentioned the idea of an American Legion and Ed’s eyes lit up.

  “You need help with that, I’ll be more than happy to help you.”

  “And I know that the American Legion has an Auxiliary for family members,” Nancy added. “I’d love to help start that up as well.”

  As Mitch walked out of the house, his mom walked him to the front porch. As she hugged him goodbye, she said, “I haven’t seen your dad that excited about anything in a long time.”

  “I’m a long way away from setting up anything about an American Legion now, but I promise to involve him when I do.”

  As he jogged off the porch, a sudden thought of the woman he saw at the inn came into his mind. “Does Mrs. Bradford still run the Sea Glass Inn?”

  Nancy shook her head sadly. “No, she passed away a few months ago. Such a sweet lady. I remember how you kids used to always head over to her house for treats, especially when her granddaughter was there. I was real pleased when Tori came back to run the inn now.”

  At the name of Tori, Mitch startled. The image of red hair and sky-blue eyes slammed into him. Tori Bradford. The woman at the diner. The one who almost tripped over herself to hide from me. Before he had a chance to process that piece of information, his mom waved goodbye and he climbed into his jeep.

  As he drove home, his mind slipped back to memories of Tori Bradford. The red-haired, pigtail girl with the cute freckles that always came to stay with her grandmother every summer. She was funny, goofy, and never minded climbing trees or playing soccer.

  By the time he was in his house and locked in for the night, he remembered the adorable teenager she had become. Thick hair, a sweet body, and a shy smile that shot to his teenage heart.

  Lying in bed, he remembered asking her to the spring break picnic when she visited before his graduation. He remembered her smile when she agreed. If he were honest, in his memories, he was going to ask her to wait for him until he got back from the Army—adolescent and stupid, but hell, I was eighteen and thought she might be the one. Aiden and Brogan teased him, but he knew they were secretly envious.

  Walking up to the inn that day, he was surprised when her grandmother met him at the door and said Tori was not feeling well. He tried to see her the next two days of spring break, but she never came out of the inn before she went back home. And three months later, he left Baytown.

  Chapter 6

  Waking early as the dawn pierced the sky, Tori dressed quickly, pulling her long hair back with a headband and slipping into a green sundress with little flat sandals on her feet.

  Making coffee, she filled several carafes, placing them on the sideboard of the dining room. The large brick house, originally built in the late 1800’s, had been painstakingly restored and maintained by several owners, ending with Tori’s grandparents.

  The beveled glass around the front door sent light shining down on the polished wooden floors of the entry foyer. Oriental rugs led the way into the formal living room, complete with comfortable furniture mixed with antique pieces. A wide staircase split the house with a hall beside it leading to the back rooms and kitchen. It boasted a formal dining room, but the guests had their breakfasts in the glassed-in sunroom at the side of the house, through double doors leading from the dining room.

  Each morning, one of Jillian’s coffee house workers would deliver pastries to the inn, while Tori whipped up scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and English muffins that she kept on the dining room table with warmers. Apple, orange, and cranberry juice pitchers were set on the table as well. Her grandmother’s china sat, ready for guests to fill their plates, along with the antique collection of mismatched floral coffee cups.

  Breakfast was available for guests from eight to nine in the morning, if they so chose. Just as she placed fresh flowers from her garden into a vase, the first couple came in. Greeting them, she showed them where to serve themselves and motioned to the beautifully decorated sunroom where small tables and chairs were placed.

  The doorbell sounded just as the next couple came down to eat. Excusing herself, she walked to the door, not looking out before throwing it open. It took a few seconds for her mind to catch up to the sight that filled her eyes. Mitch Evans stood on the stoop. All six feet, four inches of him. Khaki pants, a navy polo stretched tightly over his muscles, with the letters BPD embroidered over his chest. As her gaze traveled upward, his face filled her view. Chiseled jaw, much squarer than when he was a teenager, now covered with a deliciously trimmed beard. His hair, slightly more brown than blond, was now cut shorter and no longer hung down in his face. His lips, once an object of her dreams, now formed a smile around perfect teeth. And lastly, his eyes. Blue. Intelligent. Piercing. And staring right at her.

  Gulping as her mind
finally caught up to her gaze, she felt her face flame as she stuttered, “M…Mitch? Um…I mean, Chief Evans?”

  His eyes sparkled as he watched her stammering her response. Chuckling, he said, “Mitch is fine. Tori, it’s good to see you again. I think I saw you the other day in the diner but didn’t put two and two together until mom told me you were back.”

  “Oh,” she said, blushing more. “I must have been distracted. I didn’t see you,” she lied. God, what’s wrong with me? I’m acting like I have no sense! Plastering a smile on her face that she hoped covered her fumbling and pounding heart, she asked, “Can I help you? Is there something you need?”

  “I just wanted to come by and see you. It seems as though we’ve both come home.” Seeing her eyes flash with grief, he fought the urge to pull her into his arms. When she had first opened the door, he was struck once again by her quiet, understated beauty. Long red hair, held away from her face with a wide green headband matching the sexy-as-hell green sundress that showcased her figure to perfection. The lips that once enticed the adolescent boy nearly sent the blood rushing south in the adult man.

  “Tori, I’m sorry about your grandmother. She was a wonderful woman and a great loss to our community,” he said, his voice sincere as he stepped forward into her space, sending her backward so he could enter and close the front door.

  Sucking in a cleansing breath through her nose, she blinked rapidly for a few seconds, barely noticing how he maneuvered her back inside her entry foyer. Now the sunlight coming through the beveled glass panels cast a glow behind his head, making his features stand out more.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s still hard to believe she’s gone.” Cocking her head to the side, she cleared her throat and corrected, “But you’re the one who came home. This was only my vacation home.”

  “I always got the feeling that this was more home to you than Virginia Beach was.”

  She wanted to deny his words, but if he had any memory of her the way she did of him, he would know it was a lie. Nodding slowly, she agreed, “You’re right. This always did seem more like home. I was always happy here.”

  Just then, another guest came down the stairs for breakfast and she quickly glanced at them and then back at Mitch. “Um…I…have to…do breakfast.”

  Mitch observed as the man at the bottom of the stairs eyed Tori’s ass with a smirk and he bristled. “Go ahead and do what you’ve got to do. I’ll wait.”

  “Wait? Um…did you need something?”

  His wide smile met her uncertain expression and he replied, “Just you.”

  What on earth does that mean, she wondered, then hoped she did not say the words aloud.

  “Miss, Miss?” came a call from the dining room. Before Tori could process what Mitch meant with his words, she turned and hustled to make sure her guests had everything they needed.

  After thirty minutes of moving amongst the small tables of breakfast guests and sending them on their way, she began to clear the dishes, assuming Mitch had left. Carefully lifting the large tray containing precisely stacked antique china, she turned, only to find a large body right behind her.

  Yelping, she stumbled, the tray teetering precariously. Strong hands whipped out to steady the tray as she watched, horrified, as one of her favorite teacups toppled to the edge. Before she could blink, the tray was held in one strong hand while the other grabbed the delicate cup placing it back securely on the tray.

  Jerking her stunned gaze from the perfectly balanced tray to the man standing in the sunroom, her mouth dropped open. Mitch? He stayed?

  “Let me carry this for you,” his deep voice rumbled, awakening a long dormant need inside.

  “I’ve got it now,” she replied, but found that his hands did not leave the tray.

  Nodding toward the dining room, he said, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty to take care of. I’ll just set these on the kitchen counter.”

  Smiling her appreciation, she tried to ignore the ping-pong balls bouncing in her stomach. If she thought the teenage Mitch had been a dream come true, the adult version was a female wet-dream come true. God, how long has it been since I’ve had sex? Too long, was the only reason she could come up with for her response to having him in close proximity again.

  As he headed into the kitchen, she gathered what was left of the bacon, noticing the sausage and egg casserole was empty. Walking into the huge, upgraded kitchen with its mixture of old décor and new appliances, she held her breath as he placed the heavy tray expertly on the counter. Mitch Evans in my kitchen. As much as she hated to admit it, her adolescent crush came rushing back, but she battled to push it to the corners of her mind. That was years ago…lots of water under the bridge.

  Mitch turned, leaning his hips against the counter, one muscular leg crossed in front of the other. Folding his muscular arms across his chest, he peered at the woman in front of him—the same one that filled his teenage dreams.

  “You look good, Tori,” he smiled. “How have you been?”

  “Fine.” She hesitated for a moment before a chuckle slipped out. Catching his questioning gaze, she explained, “Isn’t the word fine such a ridiculous way to answer a question? I haven’t seen you in thirteen years, so I suppose a lot has happened, and yet I answer with fine.”

  Throwing his head back in laughter, he said, “I forgot how funny you can be…or how totally honest. Gotta say, I missed that.”

  Licking her lips nervously, she said, “Uh…you never said why you came over today.”

  Shrugging, he replied, “You’re right…it’s been a long time. But, honestly, Tori? I remember you fondly and we were good friends a long time ago. We’re both in the same town now and I wanted to see if we could get to know each other again.”

  Gifting him with a shy smile, she could not think of a reason not to. “I suppose that makes sense.” She wished the pain of her sister’s revelation thirteen years ago did not still sting, but her sister had proven that betrayals by those close to us cause heartaches that hurt the most. Geez, get ahold of yourself—it’s not like he’s here because he’s carried a torch for you for years. More like the new Police Chief needs to check on the community.

  Fiddling with the platter in her hands, she said, “Have you had breakfast? It would only take a moment to heat the bacon and scramble a couple of fresh eggs. I still have a few of Jillian’s pastries as well.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he grinned, reaching for the carafe of coffee and pouring it into a mug. Popping it into the microwave, he heated it up while Tori went to the stove. Five minutes later they sat at the informal kitchen table eating as the sun streamed through the back sliding glass door onto the deck.

  After silently filling their bellies, Mitch pushed the plate back and said, “So tell me what’s gone on in your life?”

  Almost choking on a sip of hot coffee, Tori sputtered and coughed for a moment. As he slapped her back, she finally caught her breath, tears streaming. Wiping her face with a napkin, she laughed, “Sorry. I guess I was not prepared to give a thirteen-year dissertation on my life.”

  “Yeah, I guess that was a little odd,” he admitted, his eyes never leaving her face. “Well, how about you give me the abbreviated version?”

  Before she had a chance to answer, his phone rang. Answering it, an expression of irritation crossed his face. “Right. Be there in five minutes.”

  Standing, he said, “I’m so sorry to have to rush out. Seems there’s a bit of a problem with a couple of teenage shoplifters from one of the shops on Main Street.”

  Hiding the disappointment of losing his company, she smiled as she walked to the front door. “You’re the Police Chief now, so of course I understand.”

  Mitch followed her, noting the slight sway of her hips, and barely jerked his gaze back up before she turned around and caught him ogling. At the door, he reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’d like to continue…my schedule’s kind of crazy right now.”

  Holding his gaze with her blue eye
s, she replied, “It’s a small town and you know where to find me.”

  Fighting the urge to capture her plump lips with his, he simply nodded and jogged down her front steps toward his jeep.

  *

  The sun was setting over the bay, painting the evening sky between fluffy clouds. Walking down toward the beach, Tori slipped off her flip-flops when she reached the sand. Families were packing up the children and couples were lounging on blankets, ready to snuggle as the night sky encroached.

  Realizing she forgot a towel, she found an isolated patch of sand and sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her as she leaned back, resting her hands on the sand behind her. Lifting her face, she closed her eyes as the light breeze tossed her hair.

  “Hello,” a deep voice sounded.

  Twisting her head, she saw the man standing right next to her, but she had already recognized his voice. Unable to keep the smile from her face, she acknowledged. “Hello to you too.”

  Mitch plopped down on the sand next to her, managing to align his body so his hips were touching hers.

  Part of her wanted to push him away, thinking that a friendship with Mitch Evans would never work. Not when his very presence made her girly parts tingle and the knowledge that he could never be what her heart had desired him to be to her made the idea of friendship a disaster. If I thought I was hurt as a teenager, what would the adult Mitch do to my already damaged heart? But she peered into his deep blue eyes and knew that if friendship was the only thing he offered, she wanted to at least be able to say hello to him in town without having to duck behind every aisle.

  Mitch noted the doubt cross her face and held his breath, waiting for her to speak. Having only been in her presence for a little while, he decided that this time she would not run away. This time…I’m no longer a teen with a crush.

  He cleared his throat, causing her to jump. “Sorry,” she mumbled, gathering her thoughts. How much do I tell him? Oh, hell, if we’re living in the same town, I doubt there will be many secrets.