A Stranger in the Cove

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A Stranger in the Cove Page 7

by Rachel Brimble


  Doubt mixed with an inkling of hope as Kate sipped her coffee. “I’ll believe that when I hear it from Ali.”

  Her mother sighed. “I wish you’d talk to one another. Ali needs you there. Just call her. I’m sure you’ll both come around. I’m not bullying you, Katherine. I’m going to descend on Alison, too. Enough is enough.”

  Deciding compliance was the only way to provoke her mother’s departure, Kate raised her hand in defeat. “Fine. I’ll call her.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I want you to go and see her. It will be best for you to talk face-to-face.”

  “Mum—”

  “Katherine, Ali is a successful businesswoman who runs a hairdressing salon that’s growing bigger every day. You can’t expect her to drop everything the same way you can.”

  “I see.” Kate’s hackles rose, and her cheeks grew warm. “I just play around with teenagers in dire situations, do I? Situations that neither you, nor Ali, can even come close to understanding in your rich, successful existence. Obviously, there’s no reason I can’t just shut the office and come home for an unscheduled holiday. Is that it?”

  Her mother glared. “What you do for work isn’t the same as what Ali and I do, darling. You know that. You’re running yourself into the ground worrying about other people...strangers. Look at you. You’re exhausted. Your hair...” Her mother shook her head. “Maybe you should come with me to the spa?”

  “No, thank you.” Frustration burned hot in Kate’s chest. “I love what I do, Mum. I work hard and make a difference. Why can’t you be proud of me? Why can’t you see what I do is worthwhile? That my work makes me happy?”

  “Does it?”

  The skepticism and concern in her mother’s gaze slashed at Kate’s conviction. She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

  “Then why haven’t you smiled since the unfortunate incident with Dean? You spend less and less time with your family, choosing to spend every waking moment in this tiny town.”

  “Because the Cove is my home now, Mum. Templeton is where my friends are and where I’m the happiest. I’m sorry if that’s hurtful, but it’s the truth. You know I come home to visit Nana as much as possible. I can’t commit to any more than that.”

  Pain flashed in her mother’s eyes, and feeling responsible for putting it there, Kate touched her arm and softened her voice. “Mum—”

  Her mother shook her head. “Don’t you think there’s a possibility you use your work to immerse yourself in other people’s problems rather than face your own?”

  “Of course not.” But Kate’s throat dried and her hands trembled. She stood and walked to the patio doors. “If you’ve only come here to put me down, I’d rather you left.”

  “I’m worried about you, darling.”

  “Really?” Kate spun around, embracing her anger and humiliation. “Well, there’s no need. I’m fine.”

  “You need a break. Why don’t you let your father and I pay for a holiday for you? Why don’t you take a risk and go on a date or two?”

  Mac flashed unbidden into her mind, and Kate pulled back her shoulders. “How do you know I’m not seeing someone? I don’t have to tell you everything, you know.”

  “Are you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Darling, please. Just consider what I’m asking.” Her mother stood, her purse under her arm. “Call Alison and arrange a time to get together. If nothing else, you’ll enjoy discussing the wedding. You need more in your life than surrounding yourself with the misery you’re so adamant you enjoy. You need to have some fun, some laughter—” her mother wiggled her eyebrows “—some sex.”

  “God, really, Mum?”

  Her mother laughed. “You’re passionate, opinionated and strong, Kate. Some men absolutely love that. The trouble is, you’re not going to find a man strong enough to complement you in Templeton. Mark my words. You need somebody who doesn’t know how you fall for every sob story going rather than deal with your own mistakes.” Her mother held out her arms. “Come here.”

  Reluctantly, Kate moved forward. The sooner she hugged her mother, the sooner she’d leave under a cloud of Chanel No. 5.

  “I love you.” Her mother hugged her. “I’m only doing what I think is for the best, and telling you some hard truths is definitely what’s best right now.” She pulled back and held Kate at arm’s length. “Call Alison.”

  Kate nodded, feeling ever so slightly nauseous when she considered speaking to her sister. Two years was a long time before calling her out of the blue. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.”

  Kate stood stock still as her mother swept toward the door and wiggled her fingers in semblance of a wave. The minute the door closed behind her, Kate collapsed onto the settee.

  She stared blindly ahead as tears trickled from her eyes. Was her life really as sad as her mother believed? Or was it time to prove her wrong? Wasn’t it time for her and Ali to have a conversation about what happened with Dean? Wasn’t it time her sister explained her actions? And most importantly, wasn’t it time for Kate to start living again?

  Swiping at her tears, Kate got up and strode into the kitchen. She grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts. When she found Ali, she hovered her finger over the call button before releasing her held breath and slowly placing her phone back on to the counter.

  Maybe she’d call her tomorrow.

  * * *

  MAC STOOD FROM the small desk in his room above the Coast and ran his hands through his hair. He stared at his father’s papers and notebook as his mind raced with indecision. Factors, such as Marian Ball’s hometown, her age and the number of years she’d been married, all confirmed that Marian of the Cove’s Bonniest Bakery was his paternal grandmother.

  He was becoming strangely used to this small town. Something about Templeton pulled at him; something that made him falter from his original plan. Now his strategy was beginning to feel wrong. Should he still find Marian and tell her who he was? That the son she’d never known was dead...after spending a life so fearful of abandonment that he’d pushed everyone away?

  The longer Mac stayed, the less his scheme sat comfortably on his shoulders. That, and of course, Kate’s suspicion he intended doing wrong. Which he did...or had planned to.

  He blew out a breath. His intentions felt steeped in arrogance.

  Things were no longer simple.

  His determination to channel some of his pain on to someone else had begun to cool the longer he spent here...the longer he spent with a certain brown-haired, brown-eyed woman. A woman he’d kissed and couldn’t stop thinking about kissing again.

  Things were never meant to get this complicated.

  Before he’d come to Templeton, the fire in his gut had burned too hot to consider anyone’s feelings outside of his own.

  Who was to say if Marian reacted badly, others in the town might not turn against him, too? Did he really want to leave the people in Templeton, who had treated him so kindly, with a bad taste in their mouth? That thought wouldn’t sit well.

  Every time he saw the genuine concern in Kate’s eyes, his eagerness to carry through with his original plan waned. She cared about these people. Even after only a few days, Mac had begun to understand why.

  He tossed the papers on to the desk and strode to the window. Gripping the frame, he stared toward the promenade. What had he really wanted to achieve by coming here? What did he want to happen next? Did he really believe that by hurting Marian Ball, his pain would heal and he’d move on?

  Tears burned.

  He’d lost a happiness he’d never thought possible when Jilly and their unborn baby had been killed. Was that really the fault of some woman who was merely related to his family by blood?

  “Christ, you’re a mess, Orman.”

  He pushed away from the window
and snatched his leather jacket from the back of the desk chair. He shrugged it on before picking up his wallet, phone and keys and leaving the room and hurrying outside. The last thing he wanted to do was to bump into Dave or Vanessa.

  The day was dry, sunny and cold. An almost perfect winter’s day, if it wasn’t for the storm of mixed emotions inside him. There was nothing for it. He needed some sensible, unbiased advice. He needed to open up to someone about why he was here. He just prayed his selfish motivation behind those two things wasn’t treated with the derision he suspected they deserved.

  Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he watched people weave past him on the busy beachfront. Even in February, Templeton was a hive of activity. What must it be like in the height of summer? Mac steadfastly ignored an unexpected need to see it for himself. It was whimsy. Nothing more, nothing less. He needed to resist the infuriating way this place had begun to grow on him in such a short time.

  Desperately looking for something—anything—to tell him the best way forward, Mac turned down a side street. He passed a few small boutiques, interspersed with old townhouses, and came across an office with a wide plate glass window.

  Templeton Cove’s Teenage Support Center.

  His stomach flipped. The center where Kate worked. Could she be the one to help him? He’d wager, as she dealt with teenagers, she had experience with unwanted pregnancies, maybe fostering and adoption, too. He stepped out of view and leaned against the wall of the house beside him, his mind spinning.

  She’d asked to help him and he’d rejected her.

  And then he’d kissed her...and enjoyed it far too much. Her waist had fit in his hands perfectly, her fingers on his neck a new and welcome wonder he wanted to experience again.

  Could he really share everything with her about his father and what it meant to Mac to find his biological grandmother and tell her how her choices had affected her son? That he hoped by doing that his anger and grief would be sated? Surely, if Kate responded with empathy, it would only increase his attraction toward her.

  He straightened and glanced at the center’s window again. Or maybe once she knew his situation, she would tell him to get the hell away from her, leave town and never come back. At least that way, any attraction would be snuffed out.

  So why did he dread seeing hatred in her eyes?

  Tough. He’d brought that risk on himself.

  Striding forward, he pushed open the door and walked inside.

  The busy beachfront was a graveyard compared to the office. People milled about, phones rang, voices shouted from one end of the open-plan space to the other, and bursts of laughter pierced the air as a popular radio DJ advertised the latest fifty-grand competition.

  This was meant to be a sanctuary for desperate and anguished teenagers, for crying out loud. Yet, the staff didn’t seem to be taking anything seriously, let alone the kids they claimed to help. Coming in here had been a bad idea. He needed to leave. Now.

  He turned toward the door.

  “Mac?”

  He froze. Kate.

  “Hey.” Her palm touched his back and heat rose.

  Slowly, he turned. “Hey.”

  Her smile was warm as she looked deep into his eyes, her gaze assessing. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He tried to drag forward some casual words. Or any words would be welcome. His brain had stopped at the sexy, happy sight of her. Her chocolate-colored eyes gleamed under the overhead lights. Her cheeks were flushed, and her body was damn near perfect in an open-necked shirt and tight black jeans.

  She frowned. “Well, as much as I’m getting used to your permanent scowl, you don’t look fine. What are you doing here?”

  He stupidly dropped his focus to her mouth, and memories of how she tasted engulfed him. He quickly looked past her shoulder and shrugged. “I came looking for you, but judging by the mania in here, you’re busy. I’ll go.”

  She gripped his forearm. “Hey, it’s always like this in here.”

  “Really? And how do the kids who come in here looking for help react? I can’t imagine it evokes a lot of belief in your abilities.”

  She released his arm and crossed hers. “Is that so? And you deal with teenagers a lot, do you?”

  “A few. I play music, remember?”

  “Right. And, of course, the kids that come to see you play are alone, afraid, without parents or family, right? They don’t know where their next bit of cash is coming from? Or know for sure where they’re going to sleep when they leave the cozy bar you’re playing at? Does that about sum up your fan base?”

  The longer he looked into her eyes, the brighter his stupid, misplaced self-righteousness shone. He blew out a slow breath. “Sorry.”

  She glared. “For?”

  “Being an ass.”

  “Right. Good.” She dropped her arms and gripped his elbow, steering him toward a quieter spot to the side. “The kids like the noise. They like the crowds of people in here. It gives them a sense of anonymity, like no one is watching them. It gives them a safe place to talk without risk of being overheard. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” He looked past her. A few teenagers were sitting at different desks, some sullen, some tentatively smiling at the adult speaking with them. “I understand.”

  “Good. Now, why don’t you tell me why you came looking for me? Is something wrong?”

  Forcing his gaze to hers, Mac tried to concentrate on his situation rather than how this woman made him realize pretty damn quickly that his words and actions sometimes made him a complete jerk. “I was hoping, although I’ve probably messed up my chance, that you might still be willing to help me.”

  She smiled, the concern in her eyes melting into relief. “Well, that’s excellent news.” She released his arm and raised her forefinger. “Wait here just one minute. I’ll be straight back.”

  Before he could think what he was doing, he grabbed her hand. “Where are you going? Can’t we talk here?”

  She raised her eyebrows and slowly drew her fingers from his grip. “No. You’re not a kid in trouble, Mac. You’re an adult. I don’t need any staff speculating why you’re here. Trust me, it will be for the best if we go somewhere more private.”

  Somewhere private. Like her bedroom? Yeah, sure, that’s just what she’ll be thinking right now. “Got it.”

  “Two seconds, okay?”

  He nodded and she walked away. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Mac met the curious glances coming from every direction. He tipped a smile at them, suspecting that if any of these people thought him the least bit untrustworthy, they would try to protect Kate. A confrontation was the last thing he needed.

  Not that stepping in for the absent Moon Shadows’ guitarist had been the best move as far as remaining inconspicuous was concerned.

  Kate had warned him that in this town, people looked out for one another.

  She hurried toward him. He ushered her toward the door, somehow not able to resist laying his hand on the small of her back as they left her office and walked onto the street.

  Chapter Seven

  TRYING TO IGNORE the heat that radiated from Mac’s palm on her back, Kate plastered on a smile. Keeping upbeat was the only chance she had of making his scowl disappear. The man was tense. Very tense.

  “So...” She looked at him as he walked beside her. “Do you want to grab some lunch?”

  “Sure.”

  “The Seascape?”

  “Let me guess. A fish restaurant?”

  “I knew as soon as I saw you that you were one of those guys who lets nothing get past him. A regular Sherlock.”

  A smile played on his mouth. “Funny.”

  “So, yes or no?”

  “Yes. Sounds good.”

  Kate drew in a breath and stepped up the pace. A semblance of a smile from Mac was enough for now.
If she was honest, a semblance was far easier to deal with than his very occasional full-on smiles. Those were knee-buckling. She suspected that whatever he had to tell her would merit her undivided attention, rather than her continuous yearning for him to kiss her again.

  That particular desire needed to be pushed back.

  “Here we are.” She led him along the short pathway to the Seascape’s closed double doors. “This place is famous for its seafood. Hope you’re hungry.”

  She pushed open the door, relieved the restaurant was relatively quiet. The bright blue-and-white décor was accentuated with splashes of orange by way of the ceramic crabs, lobsters and buckets on shelving or hanging on the walls. A mix of cloth-covered tables, some long and some intimate, meant the restaurant welcomed couples and families alike. It was usually a place Kate came for informal get-togethers. Yet now, with Mac so tense beside her, nothing felt informal. Judging by his somber expression when she spotted him coming through her office door, whatever had led to him wanting to talk to her meant something was bothering him.

  Caroline Hedley came toward them, two menus pressed to her chest. “Kate, good to see you. It’s been—” Caroline grinned “—at least five days.”

  Kate laughed. “What can I say? I love your food.” She turned to Mac, whose solemn gaze roamed the restaurant. Kate cleared her throat. “This is Mac Orman. He’s in town for a while. Mac, this is Caroline Hedley. She owns the restaurant with her husband, Lee.”

  Caroline held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Mac slid his stony gaze to Caroline. “Pleased to meet you, too.”

  “Well...” Caroline blew out a breath. “Let’s get you a table, shall we?”

  Kate struggled to suppress her temper as they followed Caroline to a table for two in one of the restaurant’s many alcoves. Mac could at least try to be friendly. The ability was there, after all. She’d briefly experienced flashes of it herself. She glanced at him. Maybe his distance was related to the Cove as a whole rather than just the woman he sought.

 

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