Be Mine in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 3)

by Cindy Kirk

  It wasn’t her finest moment, but it lessened the sting she felt seeing Cade kiss Eliza. For now, that was good enough.

  Cade had plenty of practice keeping his emotions under control. That experience came in handy as he watched his deputy and Marigold exchange spit.

  He didn’t have any control over the woman—or over Travis—but that didn’t mean he had to like what he saw. Or that he had to stay silent. “Deputy.”

  The intent had been to distract. If the sudden step Travis took back was any indication, he’d startled the man.

  All the better.

  Marigold tossed back that sexy mane of golden curls, the feline smile on her lips not quite reaching her eyes. “Where’s Eliza?”

  Ah, his suspicions had been correct. This was payback.

  Cade considered his response. He’d honed his analytical skills while in the Marines and during the course of his employment with Detroit PD.

  “If I have to hazard a guess, I’d say Eliza is likely kissing every man under fifty.” He kept his voice offhand while his gaze remained focused on Marigold’s face. “In the post–New Year’s Eve haze, for some, any person will do.”

  Only when he saw a look of shame cross her face did he acknowledge the deputy. Cade extended his hand. “Travis. We haven’t had a chance to speak this evening. Happy New Year.”

  “Happy New Year, sir.” Travis gave Cade’s hand a shake. The deputy had been with the sheriff’s office since graduating five years ago from the University of Wisconsin with a BS in criminal justice.

  As one of the trainers and the previous sheriff’s right-hand man, it had been assumed—by Travis, anyway—that he’d be appointed interim sheriff when Len Swarts resigned. Cade’s application had blown that scenario out of the water.

  His leadership experience in the Marines and his background as a ranked officer in a large police force had led to him being offered the position. The offer had come with the caveat that he’d have to win the election in March to keep the position. As of now, Travis was his only opponent on the ballot.

  Travis shifted his focus from Cade to Marigold. “I didn’t realize the two of you were acquainted.”

  “We met at Shannon Tracy’s wedding.” Marigold’s expression gave nothing away. “Cade is Shannon’s cousin.”

  “Is that so?” Travis cocked his head. “You never mentioned you were related to Shannon.”

  “Don’t recall it coming up.” Cade lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug then sharpened his gaze. “I didn’t realize you and Marigold were so intimately acquainted.”

  Marigold’s cheeks pinked slightly, something Cade might have missed if he hadn’t been so focused on her.

  “We went to high school together.” Marigold flashed Travis a smile.

  “Old flames reconnecting?” Cade tossed the words out carelessly, trying to get a feel for just how close the two had been.

  Marigold opened her mouth to speak but Travis beat her to the punch.

  “I wish.” Travis winked at Marigold. “This one was way out of my league.”

  “That’s not true—” Marigold protested.

  “I was too serious for her.” Travis spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “Marigold is a bright, sparkling star.”

  “What a nice thing to say.”

  When Cade saw Marigold warming under the compliment, he decided this particular trip down memory lane had gone far enough. He supposed he could walk away and leave Marigold to reminisce with Travis. But giving up had never been Cade’s way.

  “If you’ll excuse us, our earlier discussion was interrupted by the countdown.” The words may have been directed to Travis, but Cade kept his gaze on Marigold.

  A look filled those baby blue eyes that he couldn’t immediately decipher. His punch of unease didn’t relax until she turned to Travis.

  “It was good seeing you, Trav.”

  “We’ll have to catch up again soon.”

  The tenacity that made Travis a good deputy only served to irritate Cade now.

  “If you’re staying for a few days, we could grab dinner?” Travis’s boyish smile held a persuasive edge. “There’s a new pizza place down by the pier that’s supposed to be good.”

  Marigold returned his smile with one of her own. “Right now, I’m not sure how long I’ll be in Good Hope. But sure, if I do stick, we’ll get together.”

  “Great.” The self-satisfied look in the deputy’s eyes irritated Cade, but he kept his own face expressionless until the deputy had sauntered away.

  “How long will you be staying?” Cade asked in a low tone as he cupped her elbow and maneuvered her through the crowd.

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” She gave a little laugh. “All I know is it sure isn’t going to be long.”

  Chapter Three

  Marigold never did get a kiss from Cade.

  Shortly after Travis strode off, Prim and Ami appeared and stuck like glue until the party ended at two in the morning. To his credit, Cade hadn’t let himself be run off. The easy way he visited with her sisters’ husbands let her know they were friends, not simply acquaintances.

  But when the last of the revelers stood at the door, Cade took her hands in his. His gray eyes met hers. “Happy New Year.”

  When he leaned forward, anticipation surged but was quickly dashed when he merely brushed his lips against her cheek. As far as Marigold was concerned, the tantalizing touch of his mouth barely counted.

  “Be seeing you around.” He shifted his attention to Beck and Ami. “Great party. I appreciated the invitation.”

  “Thanks for coming.” Ami’s tired smile matched the weariness in her eyes.

  Then he was gone and it was just family. Other than her father, who’d left shortly before midnight. Apparently someone had stepped on Anita’s foot and the resulting gash had needed tending.

  “I’m sorry Dad had to leave,” Marigold said.

  “We’ll invite him over for dinner tomorrow,” Ami said, then received Beck’s nod of confirmation. “We’ll pray Anita doesn’t come with him.”

  Over the past two years Marigold and her sisters had tried to like the piranha, truly they had. For so many reasons, the woman was simply not likable.

  “We’d love to stay longer, but we told the sitter we’d try not to be too late.” Prim gave Marigold a quick hug before holding her back at arm’s length. “I’ll call in the morning and you can explain why you’re here.”

  “It’s a chocolate-and-wine discussion,” Marigold told her.

  “I assumed.” Prim’s hazel eyes—so like their father’s—softened. “In my mind there’s nothing better than wine, chocolate, and conversation before ten a.m.”

  Marigold’s heart swelled with emotion. She kept her voice light. “Give my nephews a hug for me.”

  Callum and Connor, seven-year-old twins from Prim’s first marriage, were feisty and fearless. Marigold adored them.

  More hugs were exchanged until Marigold was alone with Ami and Beck.

  Marigold slipped her arm around her sister’s waist as they made their way to the parlor. They stood in the doorway for a second.

  “Looks like a bomb went off in here,” Marigold observed.

  “Of nuclear proportions.” Beck’s tone was matter-of-fact. “We have a cleaning crew coming tomorrow. By noon, everything should be back to rights.”

  “Unfortunately, that means we may have to delay bringing out the wine and chocolate until the afternoon.” Ami spoke casually but there was worry in her eyes. “That doesn’t mean you and I—”

  “No worries. I doubt I’ll be out of bed before the cleaning crew leaves.” Marigold squeezed her sister’s arm. “Conversation and chocolate can wait. Right now, all I care about is getting some sleep.”

  “I meant it when I said you can stay as long as you like.” The sincerity in Beck’s tone earned him a smile from his wife. “If your car is unlocked, I’ll grab your bags and bring them in.”

  “Thanks, Beck.” In Chicago, everything neede
d to be locked up tight. Here, well, things were just different in Good Hope.

  “Be right back.” He brushed a kiss across Ami’s cheek, then left the two sisters alone.

  “How bad is it?” Ami’s soft tone and warm green eyes invited confidences.

  Marigold was tempted, oh-so-incredibly tempted to unburden herself, to take the support her sister so unselfishly offered. But her pregnant sister had just hosted a huge party. She had to be exhausted.

  The news could wait until tomorrow. God knew nothing was going to change between now and then.

  “It’s not all that bad,” she assured her sister. “I’m alive and healthy. And, while some may have serious doubts, I’ve still got my wits.”

  That brought a chuckle as Ami recognized the last as a favorite saying of their grandpa Bloom.

  Beck returned just then, a bag in each hand.

  Marigold let her gaze linger on the suitcases. Was this all the past eight years amounted to? The thought brought with it a fresh wave of sadness.

  Beck’s somber brown eyes shifted between her and his wife. “The green room?”

  It was the same bedroom she’d stayed in when she was home over Christmas. Never had she imagined she’d be back so soon, and under such depressing circumstances.

  Marigold found the strength to flash a smile. “Of course. That one has my name on it.”

  Ami hugged her so long and hard Marigold thought she might break in two.

  “You get some rest.” Marigold patted her sister’s back, then pulled away as Beck headed upstairs with the suitcases. “We’ll chat tomorrow.”

  Ami reached to shut off the lights, but Marigold stopped her.

  “Leave them on for now. Please.”

  Ami’s brows pulled together. “Aren’t you coming to bed? After that long drive, you have to be exhausted.”

  “I am tired, but I thought I’d grab another glass of champagne and just chill for a few minutes.” Reading the look of resistance on her sister’s face perfectly, Marigold continued, “Unwind a bit. You understand.”

  Although still not appearing convinced, Ami reluctantly nodded. “If you need anything—”

  “I’ll ask,” Marigold assured her sister. “You know me, I’m not shy.”

  “No. You’re strong and determined.” Ami’s gaze met hers. “You remember that. And know I’m always here for you.”

  The lump had barely had a chance to form in her throat when Ami turned toward the stairway.

  Once she was alone, Marigold inhaled, then let her breath out slowly. After locating a half-empty bottle of champagne, she found a clean flute and filled it all the way to the top. It was, after all, a brand-new year.

  She lifted the glass and offered her own toast . . . to a new start.

  Cade wasn’t technically on duty New Year’s Day, but when he checked in with dispatch and heard there had been some vandalism reported on Market Street, he decided to check out the area.

  The house where the damage had occurred sat just down the street from Ami and Beck’s home. If the Cross’s house or property was similarly affected, he’d have to knock on the door to advise them of the damage. And he just might just get to tell Marigold good morning.

  On his stroll down the recently shoveled sidewalk, he gave the house that had reported overturned planters a cursory glance, then moved on down the block to the large three-story Victorian that Beck had purchased even before he’d moved to Good Hope. From what Cade could see, the Cross property appeared undamaged. Likely the party and the constant people coming and going had acted as a barrier to anyone getting too close for mischief.

  Still, something may have occurred that might not be immediately visible from the street. It didn’t hurt to ask.

  Cade stood on the sidewalk in front of the grand old house. It was nearly ten. Several vans advertising a local cleaning service already sat in the driveway. Cade watched several people trudge out with overstuffed garbage bags, laughing and talking.

  If Ami and Beck were still sleeping, they had to be deaf.

  When Cade reached the sidewalk, he took the porch steps two at a time to hold the front door open for a tiny slip of a woman with two large bags.

  “Let me help you with those.” He reached out to take the bags from her arms, but she tightened her hold.

  “Thanks, Sheriff.” She gripped the bags and stepped back. “As I told Mr. Cross, I can manage just fine.”

  “If you change your mind . . .”

  “I’ll let you know.” In obvious dismissal, the woman slipped past him and made a beeline for one of the vans.

  Though the door was ajar, Cade knocked.

  Beck appeared moments later. “Hey, Sheriff. Come on in.”

  Cade didn’t know what to make of the fact that Marigold’s brother-in-law didn’t seem surprised to see him. He cleared his throat. “There have been reports of vandalism in the area. Planters overturned.”

  “Likely the same kids who’ve been causing trouble in other parts of Good Hope recently,” Beck said mildly. “I just made a pot of coffee. I’m guessing you could use a mug of my strong chicory brew.”

  “I don’t want to intrude—”

  “You’re not. And, as my wife isn’t drinking coffee while she’s pregnant, you’ll be doing me a favor.” Beck slanted a sideways glance in his direction. “We’ve also got scones, made fresh yesterday.”

  “I could eat a scone.” Though Cade normally preferred cinnamon rolls, if Ami had made the scones, he knew they’d be stellar. He’d been in her bakery—Blooms Bake Shop—many times since moving to Good Hope and had never been disappointed.

  Just before they reached the kitchen at the back of the house, sidestepping several more members of the cleaning crew along the way, Cade brought the conversation back to the reason for his visit this morning. “Did you notice any vandalism on your property this morning?”

  Beck shook his head. A slight smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way . . .”

  Cade saw Marigold the second he stepped into the kitchen. Sitting at the table, wearing a fluffy pink sweater that made him think of feathers and baby chicks, her curls were pulled back from her face with a sparkly headband that glittered in the overhead light.

  Her eyes looked even larger than they had last night, and this morning her pouty lips were bright pink instead of red.

  She glanced up from her phone. Her eyes widened and that cotton candy mouth curved. Unlike Beck, it was obvious she hadn’t expected to see him this morning. “Hey, Sheriff.”

  “Hey, hairdresser.”

  “Hair stylist,” she corrected with an easy smile. “What brings you by?”

  “There was some vandalism in the neighborhood last night.” Beck motioned for Cade to take a seat.

  “Vandalism?” Marigold frowned. “In Good Hope?”

  “Kid stuff. For now, anyway.” Cade dropped into a chair opposite Marigold. He glanced around. “Where’s Ami?”

  Beck turned from the coffeemaker. His expression softened. “Last I checked, still sleeping.”

  “We didn’t want to wake her.” Marigold broke off a piece of the scone on the plate before her. “She’s sleeping for two.”

  Beck set a mug of coffee and a scone before Cade. “I’m going to check on her again.”

  When he left the room, Marigold smiled after him. “Beck is like a mother hen. He looked in on her barely ten minutes ago.”

  “Must be love.” The mushy words popped out, surprising Cade.

  Marigold nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Cade thought of Alice and their plans to marry. If things had gone as planned, they’d be husband and wife now. But things hadn’t gone as planned. He now understood their breakup had been for the best.

  He hadn’t loved Alice, not the way a man should love the woman he was about to marry. If he had, he’d have fought to rectify the problems that plagued their relationship instead of simply walking away when she told him it was over.

&
nbsp; “I’m surprised you’re working this morning.”

  Cade shifted his gaze to find Marigold studying him, an unreadable expression on her pretty face.

  He took a big gulp of the strong coffee. “Because of the holiday, we’re shorthanded. I’m just helping out.”

  “Checking on possible vandalism.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I hate to say I’m glad something happened in the neighborhood.” Marigold’s tongue moistened her lips. “But I am.”

  Heat surged. Cade slowly lowered his mug to the table. “You care to expand on that?”

  With great deliberateness, Marigold carefully pushed aside the plate holding her scone even as her eyes remained firmly fixed on his face. “You and me, we have unfinished business.”

  Cade inclined his head.

  “It’s time to rectify that situation.” Without warning, she rose, leaned across the table, and fastened her mouth to his.

  Marigold found Cade’s lips as warm and tantalizing as she remembered. The kiss began slowly, as if they had all the time in the world; soothing, caressing . . . arousing. The need bubbling up inside her wanted more than pleasant. When his tongue swept across her lips, she nearly burst into the “Hallelujah Chorus.”

  As it had that long-ago June night, desire surged hot and demanding. Marigold opened her mouth to his and wound her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. She cursed the table separating them. The yearning to feel the hard length of his body against her, to revel in the evidence of his need for her, was overwhelming.

  She slid her fingers through his hair, the dark strands shorter than she remembered but just as silky.

  “What’s going on in here?” There was astonishment and a healthy dose of motherly rebuke in Ami’s words.

  Cade stiffened.

  Marigold pushed aside annoyance and reminded herself this wasn’t her home. Though she might yearn to take this, ah, discussion with Cade upstairs, the double bed with the soft flannel sheets where she’d slept last night wasn’t hers, either.

  Heaving a dramatic sigh, Marigold reluctantly released her hold on Cade.