Sweetheart Cove (Blue Haven Book 1)

by Jacquie Biggar

  Jake stiffened, his old friend anger returning in a red-hot flash. “My daughter is not a test subject. Miss Sparks. If that’s the reason you’re here, you may as well pack your bags now.” He should have known. She was way to… pretty to stick herself on a small island watching after a child. There was always a catch.

  “Do you ever plan on getting over that inflated ego you’re carting around? I’ve said adnauseum why I’m here. If that’s not good enough for you, then fine. I’ll leave today.” Josie’s friendly smile disappeared into a cloudburst every bit as volatile as his own. If he wasn’t so angry, he might have been a little turned on. Just a little, mind you.

  She stomped up the incline away from the beach, her feet sending little tufts of dust flying into the air. Suddenly, Jake had the urge to smile.

  “Miss Sparks,” he called.

  She slowed to a halt and swung to face him, hands fisted on her hips and chest heaving from exertion. A pint-sized Amazon warrior princess.

  “I apologize. Please stay.” He was surprised by how important her answer was.

  She hesitated, then gave one short nod before carrying on up the path.

  Jake sighed. This was going to be an interesting summer.

  Chapter 6

  Mona reached into the glass-fronted counter and withdrew a thick slice of homemade blackberry pie. She made a mental note to come into work early tomorrow, so she could make more desserts before the restaurant opened. It had taken time to get the hang of baking after Annie died—she’d been the baker while Mona handled the cooking—but the customers had rallied behind her efforts, thank goodness. Being a single parent meant she had all of the financial worries as well as raising her daughter. Showing up at sports tournaments and volunteering at the school fell to her overloaded shoulders. When her sister-in-law was alive, she’d taken up some of the slack, happy to care for her young niece while Jacob was at work.

  Mona moved to the ice cream counter, slid the heavy glass door open and added two heaping scoops of French vanilla to the pie. It looked like a snowman on steroids. “Here you go, Mr. Hayward. Just the way you like it.” She smiled and set the plate in front of the senior.

  “Perfect end to a perfect meal, Mona.” He picked up his fork, the tremble in his fingers making it ring against the plate. “Ain’t no wonder my Sally wants to put me on a diet.”

  Mona patted his liver-spotted hand resting on the table. “You tell Sally to come see me, I’ll set her straight. You’re skin and bones as it is.”

  He cackled and got down to the business of polishing off his dinner, his mind eased by her response. Really, that Sally Michaels should know better. Her father had been coming to the diner for ten years or more and hadn’t gained an ounce that Mona could see. Sally was just bitter because her papa preferred Mona’s cooking over her own. Kind of like her husband had once desired Mona. It’d been before they were married, but still, Sally had never gotten over it. Then again, neither had she.

  The rise and fall of voices blended with the country music piped in through overhead speakers. The island was too small to support more than one radio station and the owner, Burt Cummings, didn’t believe in that ‘new age crap’ as he called it. Mona didn’t mind, at least she could understand the words, even if most of the songs were about lost love. She’d made peace with her past long ago.

  “Daddy, there you are.” Speak of the devil. Sally wound her svelte body between the tables, an oversized black designer handbag hanging from a silk-clad shoulder. Chandelier earrings mesmerized the eye, swinging like pendulums with every stride. A perfect complexion highlighted the sophisticated twist she’d accomplished with her honey gold hair, the effect ruined by the calculating gleam of pale blue eyes.

  Great, she was on the war path. Again.

  Mona pasted her best hostess smile on and offered the crab a seat. “Your father was just finishing his dinner. Would you like a drink?”

  Sally looked at the slightly cracked vinyl chair, wrinkled the nose her plastic surgeon gave her, and carefully dusted it off before deigning to sit. “A cup of herbal tea please, and don’t forget to heat the pot before adding the water. I just hate when people get that wrong, don’t you?” Her smile saccharine, she brushed Mona off like a piece of lint and turned an irritable glance on her dad. “I thought we talked about the desserts you’ve been eating, Daddy. You don’t want me to stop these little road trips you’ve been taking, do you?” She looked for a place to set her suitcase of a bag down, then sighed and tucked it onto her lap. “Trace and I…,” she leveraged a smug look at Mona, “… want you to stay healthy.”

  Yeah, so she could continue to live in daddy’s mansion. Mona gave Mr. Hayward’s arm a reassuring squeeze before heading to get the highness her tea. Everyone had heard the story of how Sally’s father met and wooed his wife sixty-three years ago. She came from a wealthy family who didn’t think the grocery store bagger was good enough for their daughter. Josiah didn’t let that stop him though. He worked hard, caught the attention of the owner who gave him one promotion after another until he made manager. When the owner retired, Mr. Hayward bought the store and got the girl. A couple of years later Sally came along. His wife passed away thirty years later, leaving Sally to run the household. Much as he loved his family, Josiah wanted his daughter to marry for love, not fortune. Then Sally cast her eye on the new kid at school, and the rest, as they say, was history.

  Mona tapped her toe and mumbled under her breath while waiting for the water to heat the teapot. “I need a sign for the front window, No Skanks Allowed.”

  “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

  She turned to see her brother taking a seat at the counter, travel mug in hand. “You weren’t supposed to hear me,” she muttered, some of the steam she’d been feeling escaping at the tired lines crowding Jake’s forehead. She left the pot simmering and grabbed the coffee carafe. “You look like you could use this.”

  He gave a lopsided smile and turned his cup over. “That bad, huh?”

  “Depends on if you’re going for the whole dark and broody vibe or not.” She filled his cup, set the pot aside, and leaned on the counter. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  He shrugged. “Big job, long drive, nothing I can’t handle. Besides, that should be my line. Who twisted your panties in a knot?” He glanced around the room while taking an appreciative sip of his coffee.

  She could tell the moment he saw what was bothering her. He got that look, the one that said man, I wish Mom was here. Well she did, too. She needed someone who listened without becoming all judgmental. Her friends thought she was an idiot for carrying a torch this long—which she totally was—and Jacob tried, but he didn’t understand. Hell, neither did she.

  “Sis,” he started, giving her a warning look. “Don’t go starting something you can’t finish. Samantha needs you.”

  The mere mention of her daughter knocked the wind out of her sails. Jake was right. The past was the past, she didn’t need to invite trouble. It usually managed to find her all by its lonesome. “How’d you get to be so smart?” she teased.

  “It’s in our blood,” he said, tapping her forearm. “You just need to pay attention to what it’s telling you.”

  Good advice, if only she’d listen.

  “How’s the new nanny?” She switched topics and waved to some regulars paying for their lunch at the till. “Jane accepting her all right?”

  His gaze avoided hers. “Jane is, yes. But, we could have managed on our own. I’m not fond of having a stranger in the house.”

  Hmm, interesting. He’d been agreeable when he thought the new therapist would be someone… older. “Well, give Josie a chance. She told me a bit about her cheating fiancé—poor girl. They worked at the same hospital, did she tell you that?” She carried on without giving him a chance to answer. “I understand how she feels, Jake. She needs time to get her feet back under her. This job will be good for her, and a godsend for you. You’ll see.�
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  He gave her a skeptical look and rose. “I better get going or it’ll be another late night. I just dropped by to see if Sam needed a ride to the doctors on Thursday. I remembered you mentioning she was going in for a checkup.”

  Mona impulsively stretched over the counter and dragged her brother in for a quick hug. They might not always agree, but they always supported each other. Family first, something Trace could never figure out.

  She shook the bad thoughts away and smiled. “Thanks, but I took time off so I could be there with her. I’m hoping the doc will give her a walking cast before she kills herself on those crutches. She’s such a daredevil, I don’t know where she gets it from.”

  Jake unscrewed the lid on his thermos and waited for her to fill it with coffee. He threw five dollars on the counter and picked up his mug, grinning. “I seem to remember a reckless girl jumping off the cliff into the river and breaking her arm at about the same age Samantha is now.”

  Mona snorted. “That was on a dare, and you know it, Jacob Samuels.” He’d promised her a ride in his new-to-him sports car if she would make the jump. There was only a few years difference between them, but when it came to school they were worlds apart. He’d been the school jock, popular and great at sports, while she’d trailed behind, still in middle school and more into the books than boys. A chance to cruise with the cool kid was too good to pass up. She’d known the moment she let go of the rope and her arm got hung up that she was in trouble. Her landing rivaled Free Willy’s big escape scene, but not nearly as graceful. Jake had yelled and jumped in after her, carried her sputtering from the river amid his friends’ laughter and rushed her to the hospital. Their parents grounded him for a month and took away the keys to his car. She still felt guilty about that.

  “Okay, sis, see you later,” Jake broke into her musings. “And remember—” he nodded toward Silly Sally and her daddy, “—treat the customers nice.”

  Mona nodded and waved him off. She turned back to the resting teapot, all nice and warm. She drained the water and added some ice chips from the dispenser beside the fountain pop machine. Oh yes, she planned to treat Mrs. Michaels just the way she deserved.

  Chapter 7

  Josie smiled and waited patiently for Jane to make her move. “Don’t worry, you’ve got this,” she encouraged the little girl.

  Jane grunted and leaned forward in her wheelchair, teeth scraping her bottom lip. “I’m stuck.”

  “Take your time, there’s no rush.”

  She glanced out at the evening sky. “Daddy will be home soon.”

  Josie’s pulse skipped a beat. Two weeks later and still the thought of Jacob’s infrequent appearances sent her into a tizzy. He was just so… masculine. She’d managed to keep their interactions to a bare minimum, but sooner or later he was going to want a report on his daughter’s progress. Hopefully, he understood her decision to take the time to build trust with Jane before attempting much in the way of therapy. Hence, the chess game she was currently losing.

  “Your dad will have to play a game, so you can show him how good you are,” she said.

  Jane sighed. “He doesn’t have time to play.” She reached out to move a pawn, then changed her mind and slid the rook horizontally across the board, capturing an unsuspecting knight.

  Josie looked at her dwindling pieces and grinned. “Just as well, it wouldn’t be fair to him.”

  Jane giggled.

  She was such a sweetheart. Jacob should be here. It should’ve been him teaching Jane the intricate moves of chess and taking pride in her aptitude for the game. She wouldn’t be six forever, these moments were precious.

  The underlying sadness in the Samuels household carried an almost physical presence. “Is your father away a lot?” she asked. She’d looked, but there were no pictures or really any feminine touches at all in the home. It was as though Jane’s mom never existed. She didn’t know the full situation, or if father and daughter shared treasured memories, but they were an important step in Jane’s recovery. She would have to corner the dragon, so to speak, and find out what could be done to help the child.

  Jane fiddled with the knight she’d captured, curls brushing her cherub cheeks. “More now than he used to be. He says business is booming and he needs to strike while the iron’s hot—whatever that means.”

  Or he was using his work to avoid the issues at home.

  “Well, he has to have a good reputation to be that busy. You must be very proud of him.” Josie moved a pawn and took a drink of the punch they’d made before the game. “Mmm, this is delicious. Did you try it yet?” As with the chess, Jane had shown a natural aptitude in the kitchen, mixing and matching juices and ginger ale into a delightful cocktail beverage. They were going to bake brownies tomorrow. Everyday tasks like these would instill confidence as well as increasing dexterity without the connotations of physical therapy. She’d found her patients performed much better under positive reinforcement and exercises that pushed conventional boundaries.

  Jane reached out to the fancy snifter they’d used for the drinks, but her fingers caught the chess board and pushed it up against the glass, which was sitting too close to the edge of the table and tipped over, hitting the floor with a crash. Her mouth dropped open as the cold liquid splashed up her legs.

  Josie smiled and was about to reassure the girl when Mount Samuels erupted.

  “Don’t move,” Jacob snarled, dropping the pack he’d walked in with and hurrying across the room to the wheelchair. “Are you hurt?” he asked his daughter, leaning over her head like a dark cloud of doom.

  “N… no,” she said, tears clinging to thick, dark lashes. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to drop the glass.”

  He shot Josie a cold glare. “I know that, Pumpkin. Let’s get you washed up, shall we?”

  He backed the wheelchair away from the table and turned towards the bedrooms. “Miss Sparks, there are towels in the kitchen. See if you can clean the mess without cutting yourself.” He strode a few feet and glanced over his shoulder. “And don’t go anywhere. I want to talk to you.”

  Josie frowned as he walked away. Accidents were bound to happen. He couldn’t wrap his daughter in bubble wrap. She was bound to get hurt now and then, it was part of life.

  She rescued the chess board from the river of juice dampening the wood, then side-stepped the glass to hurry into the kitchen for towels and a container for the broken pieces. Maybe they should have used Jane’s plastic cups for their drinks, but Josie wasn’t sorry they hadn’t—even with the unhappy ending. She’d seen the little girl’s eyes light up for the first time since they’d met. She didn’t need to be treated with kid gloves. Most people thrived with a challenge and picking up a glass tumbler while playing a game of chess had allowed Jane to see the possibilities.

  No, she wasn’t sorry.

  “Miss Sparks, what do you think you’re doing?”

  The gravelly texture of Jacob’s voice rolled up her spine and caused an involuntary shiver just as she lifted jagged glass from the floor. Blood spurted. Josie gasped and dropped the offending piece into the container before reaching for a napkin to cover the wound.

  “Don’t yell,” she snapped. Uncomfortable with him towering over her, she stood then wished she hadn’t as the room swayed—or was that her?

  “Whoa,” he said, grasping her arm to steady her. “A nurse that can’t stand the sight of blood, huh?” He urged her into a chair and left to wet a cloth in the kitchen sink.

  “Therapist,” she called, irritated with her temporary weakness and exasperated with him for noticing. “It’s not the same thing.”

  He returned with a damp rag and gently took her hand. He uncovered the injury, checked for glass, then wrapped her finger. “You’ll survive.” He tipped her chin and gazed into her eyes. Something… heated passed between them.

  Josie swallowed and held her breath.

  He released her and took a step away, clearing his throat. “My daughter has limited mobility.
Please take care in the future so that you don’t endanger her safety again.” He waved a hand at the chess board. “And save the games for when you’re off-duty, if you don’t mind. I pay you to work with Jane and help her accept her lifestyle, not to throw a party.”

  He stomped out of the room and left her fuming. A party with a six-year-old and a glass of punch.

  Go her.

  Then the memory of the heat in his stormy blue-gray eyes washed over her and she felt dizzy all over again.

  Chapter 8

  Jake was still fuming three days after his run-in with the nanny. Josie Sparks rubbed him the wrong way. The instant he was anywhere near her, his senses went into overdrive. It was disconcerting, to say the least. She was a distraction he couldn’t afford. The contract he’d landed with Sweet Sensations Health Spa was a big one, with the promise of future jobs down the road. He’d been commissioned to build several sleeping pods designed to blend with the landscape while encircling the main compound, like a giant grounded drone. Never mind that the concept was an eyesore on the island’s pristine shoreline and he was on half the town’s shit list for taking on the work. He also had Mona’s wrath to contend with. The spa’s owners—who were keeping their names under wraps so far—had started an aggressive ad campaign touting health and fitness over high carb meals and rich desserts, namely his sister’s restaurant. So far, her clientele remained loyal, but he knew Mona felt betrayed by his decision. He planned on talking to whoever was behind the campaigns and letting them know that’s not the way to make friends on a small island where everyone counted on each other for business.