She was packing the things she needed in her suitcase when her father knocked on her door.
“Come in.” She didn’t stop what she was doing, folding her summer dresses and placing them in the open luggage.
“What are you doing?” The first hint of true panic since he’d been found out sliced into her father’s voice.
“I’m leaving.”
He rushed over, placing a hand on her suitcase. “Juliette, no. We can work this out. I want to make this right.”
“You can’t.” The damage was done by withholding information about her family.
“Be reasonable before you storm out. You’ve never been away from home alone. Never held a job. What are your plans?”
“And whose fault is that? You’ve kept me dependent on you, but now it’s time for me to be an adult. To meet my sisters and live my own life.” She closed her suitcase and zipped it around before turning to face him. “I can promise you, I will be perfectly fine.”
“I only ever had your best interest at heart. You have to know that.” He stepped back, a defeated expression on his face. “Would you consider taking a bodyguard?” he asked. “Someone to watch you from afar?”
She snorted at that. “No. I’m an adult and it’s time you started treating me like one. I’m taking the summer for myself. I’ll decide what happens at the end of August. Until then, please respect my privacy.”
He hesitated, then perhaps seeing the determination in her expression, hearing the certainty about her decision in her voice, he lifted a hand and stepped back. “Fine. I’ll expect to hear from you. Often.”
She shook her head. “Sorry, Dad. You’re not telling me what to do anymore.” She hesitated, knowing he had a bad heart and not wanting to upset him more despite how hurt and angry she was. “I know you love me,” she said, voice softening. “And I love you, but it’s way past time for me to be on my own.”
“So be it.”
She narrowed her gaze, surprised at his capitulation. She’d expected him to turn his chilly anger on her, but he was letting her go without too much of an argument.
Relief and excitement filled her soul. She was going to meet her family, experience everything she’d missed out on, and finally, live her own life.
For herself and nobody else.
* * *
Legs up on his desk, Braden Clark disconnected the call he’d been on, surprised at the lengths some people would go to in order to maintain control of the people in their lives. But if Andrew Collins, New York City investment banker, wanted him to keep tabs on his daughter, who was coming to Rosewood Bay for the summer, Braden figured it was a job.
A damn well-paying one, he thought, thinking of the number he’d quoted the man and how easily he’d agreed. It required hands-on work, which prevented him from handling something else at the same time, so it was only fair. Not to mention how much he needed the extra income, what with knowing he’d have to put his father into a nursing home soon, something he was loath to think about.
“New job?” Mike Graham, his best friend and new partner, asked from his seat at the desk across from Braden’s.
Braden had taken over Clark Investigations from his dad, Jonathan, who’d had to retire due to his recent Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Braden had returned a little over a year ago when his dad had started showing signs of forgetfulness, leaving his job with the NYC police department to come home. Needing a change of pace, Mike had come along and bought into the company, which was now known as Clark and Graham Investigations. This new case had come in as a referral from a Manhattan PI Braden knew from his days on the force.
“New and cushy job,” Braden replied to his partner’s question. “Keeping an eye on some rich guy’s daughter for the summer.”
“How old is she? Under eighteen? That ought to be fun, hanging out at the cheap bars in town. Better you than me,” he said, chuckling.
At thirty, they preferred the more upscale Blue Wall restaurant and bar to the cheaper kid hangouts closer to the beach.
Braden shook his head. “She’s more like twenty-six years old.”
Mike’s eyes widened. “And Daddy’s still keeping tabs? Spoiled little rich girl coming to the beach for the summer?” he guessed.
“Sounded like it. Sheltered and first time out on her own.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like a difficult assignment.”
“Unless she’s a troll.” Mike smirked at the possibility.
“He’s sending a photo.” Braden pulled up his laptop and checked his email. “Yep. Here it is.” He clicked to open the picture and sucked in a breath at the sight of the woman in the photo.
“That bad?” Mike asked.
“That good.” Braden let out a low whistle, feeling the kick in his gut again as he looked at the beautiful woman on the screen.
Light brown hair, porcelain skin, and a delicate profile that took his breath away. She wore a tiara in the photo, obviously a picture from a party of some sort, and she looked every inch the princess from a fairy tale.
His cock, dormant and, he thought, immune to women since his ex did her damage, stiffened behind his jeans.
Well, damn.
“You going to show me?” Mike asked.
Braden felt suddenly possessive of the photo and the woman in it. Reluctantly, he turned the screen toward his friend.
Mike let out an appreciative whistle. “Damn, you’re going to have a fucking fun summer.”
Braden scowled at him. “You know she’s a job and that means hands off.”
Mike tilted his head back and laughed hard. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
His friend had a point. Just looking at the woman had his cock hard and ready. Ignoring the obvious attraction on paper wasn’t going to be easy when he saw her in person. Still, he was a professional.
He could handle the job. And the woman.
“How’s things with your dad?” Mike asked, changing the subject to one Braden really didn’t want to discuss. But nothing could alter the painful reality that was his father’s life. His life.
Still, Mike meant well by asking. “He’s holding steady. He can still be at home with Mrs. Mulligan next door looking out for him while I’m out.” She was a former nurse, and Braden paid her though she’d offered to do it for free, knowing he was supplementing her income and helping himself out at the same time. He wanted to keep his dad at home for as long as possible, especially while he still knew who and where he was.
Mike nodded. “Good. I hope it stays that way for a while. It’ll be tough to have to consider nursing homes.” He nodded to the stack of pamphlets on Braden’s desk.
Braden had been looking into places so he’d be prepared when the time came. He just hoped to postpone the decision as long as possible. And it would be his choice, which hurt his heart.
He was an only child and was close to his dad. He’d appreciated not having to share the father-son moments growing up, the trips they’d taken, the games they’d played. Except now, as an adult, he understood the value of siblings. Of sharing the burdens. His mom was gone ten years now, and dealing with his father’s illness and care was all on him.
And that was all he wanted to dwell on his problems. He’d rather focus on work.
His gaze zeroed back on the laptop screen and the more pleasurable part of his life, the job he had coming up. He’d have to find Ms. Juliette Collins in Rosewood Bay. Despite the influx of summer visitors, it shouldn’t be hard for him to locate someone new looking to find a job in town and fit in. Newcomers usually stood out.
And with looks like hers, he’d at least enjoy the view for the summer, even if he had to keep his hands to himself.
Chapter Two
Rosewood Bay was a beautiful town with the smell of saltwater in the air and the ocean in the distance. The storefronts were eclectic, as opposed to the generic businesses Juliette saw on Madison Avenue, and she fell in love with the town’s charm on sight.
Her apartment turned out to be located on top of
the stores on the main street in town with an entry from the back. She drove her BMW convertible, happy to be using the car she kept garaged in the city, especially grateful now that her father hadn’t fought her too hard on getting her driver’s license when she’d turned of age, despite not needing a car often in Manhattan. She parked in a small lot behind the stores and met up with her landlord to pick up her key.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, the anticipation of everything new swirling inside her. She walked up the back stairs leading to the apartment, put the key in the door, and stepped inside. Although it was musty and small, a quick look around told her it was clean and had everything she’d need to make the place her home.
A bedroom with a double bed and a nightstand, a TV stand with a cable hookup should she want a television, a living room with a sofa and table, a kitchen and a double set of stools where she could eat at a pass-through entryway. It was definitely a place in need of her decorating skills, but since this was a summer-only situation, at least for now, she didn’t plan to overspend in order to make it habitable.
She spent the rest of the day bringing up her suitcase, unpacking, then finding the nearest grocery store and stocking up on food and supplies. She opened the windows and dusted the apartment, making it livable. By the time she finished, she was exhausted, so she made herself a grilled cheese sandwich and fell into bed. As she was used to the noise of the city, honking horns, cars, and ambulance sounds, the silence around her was deafening in its own way, and it took her awhile to fall asleep despite being so tired.
The next morning, she walked through town and came upon Grace’s Coffee Shop with a Help Wanted notice on the storefront window. She took it as a sign and walked inside. There was a takeout section along with restaurant-type seating from which to choose, and the tables were already filled with customers. Large paintings of a variety of coffee cups hung on the walls.
A middle-aged woman with raven-colored hair and blue eyes stood by the front counter and greeted her when she entered. “Welcome,” she said. “Would you like a seat or are you going to order takeout?”
“Thank you. Actually I’d like to inquire about the help wanted sign out front?”
The woman’s expression perked up. “Really? Do you have experience waiting tables?”
Worry mingled along with potential disappointment at the question. “No experience but I have enthusiasm,” Juliette said, knowing she probably came off as too eager. “I’m new to town and I need a job.” She wouldn’t starve and had access to the money she’d made working for her father, but if she was going to go into the real world, she wanted to grow up and find employment.
The woman pursed her lips in thought. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a try, but if you break anything, it comes out of your paycheck.”
“Deal.” Juliette held out her hand, hoping she didn’t end up owing more than she made while she got used to the work. “I’m Juliette Collins.”
“Grace Burrows. Nice to meet you.” The other woman shook hands. “So how about we do paperwork later and I just throw you into the fire right away?” As she spoke, she reached behind the counter and pulled out a white apron.
“I’d like that.” Juliette hadn’t expected to start immediately but why not? No time like the present, she thought.
“Come put your bag in the back and I’ll give you a rundown of how things work around here. I’ll be close by in case you have any questions.”
Blowing out a deep breath, Juliette nodded. She could do this, she told herself and followed Grace around the back of the restaurant.
An hour later, Juliette wondered what she was thinking, pushing for a job where she had to balance coffee-filled cups on a tray and remained on her feet constantly. It was difficult, challenging work and she definitely needed a good pair of sneakers. Although she was slow, she hadn’t broken anything yet, and she counted that as a win.
“You’re doing great,” Grace said. “For a city girl.”
Juliette grinned. She’d told Grace that she’d come from Manhattan just yesterday. “I’m trying.”
“You have a customer. First booth.” Grace tipped her head toward the front of the restaurant. “His name is Braden Clark and he’s a regular.”
Juliette picked up the coffee carafe. “I’ve got it.”
“And he’s a cute one. Single, too,” Grace said with a wink.
“So this is what small-town living is like? You know everyone?”
She nodded. “And everyone gets to know you. Now shoo.” She waggled her fingers, indicating Juliette should head up front and serve her customer.
She put a smile on her face and strode toward the first table, stopping short when she came upon him.
He had thick, brown wavy hair, with a strong jaw and hazel eyes, and Grace hadn’t done him justice calling him cute. He was downright gorgeous. A navy tee shirt accented his muscular frame. He had to work out, given the flex and pull of his biceps as he picked up a glass of water and took a long sip.
The men she knew in New York were flimsy compared to this hunky specimen. They wore suits their bodies didn’t fill out and had weak facial profiles. This guy was everything she didn’t know to want, but she was certain he’d be in her dreams from now on.
She swallowed hard and approached, gripping the coffeepot in her hand. “Good morning.”
He looked up and his eyes locked on hers. His mossy-green-brown gaze bored into hers and held on so long the stare felt like a warm caress.
“Good morning to you, pretty lady.”
At his gruff words, a warm flush rose to her cheeks. “Coffee?” she asked, lifting the carafe, her hand suddenly trembling.
“Sure. Thank you.”
She somehow managed to pour the liquid without spilling, but she filled the coffee too high and it seeped over the top, leaking first on the table and then onto his lap.
He jerked as the hot liquid hit his pants.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She put the carafe down with a clatter, picked up the nearest napkin, and began blotting his shirt and his lap, pressing down to soak up the liquid, only to come into contact with his hard, thick– “Oh!” She yanked her hand back, further mortified.
“You could keep going,” he said, eyes twinkling with laughter.
She wanted to crawl beneath the nearest table and stay there. “I’m so sorry. Did it burn you?” she asked, her cheeks flaming.
“No. It must have been cooler than you realized. I’m fine. Really.”
“Is everything okay over here?” Grace asked, walking over, obviously concerned.
Juliette stepped up, taking responsibility. “I–”
“Just a little accident,” the man said. “It’s no big deal.”
A customer called Grace’s name and she walked away, the incident forgotten. Juliette wished she could put it behind her as easily.
“How about we introduce ourselves, considering you had your hand on my–”
“Juliette,” she said quickly, before he could finish his sentence. “Juliette Collins.”
“Braden Clark,” he said with a knowing grin that made her weak in the knees.
The man’s impact was potent.
“Nice to meet you, Juliette.”
“Same,” she murmured. “Now can I get you a fresh cup of coffee?”
“That would be great.”
She gently picked up the overflowed cup and headed for the kitchen, returning to him with an empty mug and a towel to clean the table. A few careful minutes of serving later, he had his coffee and she was back to her duties, feeling his gaze on her as she worked.
* * *
Braden got lucky. He’d started the day at his usual breakfast place and caught sight of Juliette Collins immediately. She stood out and not just because she was new in town. She was beautiful and out of her element serving coffee to patrons in the shop. Her clothes looked upscale, from the silky tank top to the dangling jewelry she’d tucked into the camisole to keep it out of the way
while working.
Everything about her movements was grace personified, that was, until she’d met his gaze. Then she’d become a shaky mess and his crotch suffered the consequences. Though his dick appreciated her trying to mop up the mess. When her fingers had grazed his cock, all thoughts of spilled coffee evaporated, as his dick registered a beautiful woman touching him. It had taken everything in him not to grab her hand and press it down onto his aching erection. But her blushing innocence told him she wasn’t that kind of woman.
Now that he’d located her, keeping an eye on her shouldn’t be difficult. He just needed to find out more about her life here.
He waited until she finished her shift and hung around outside the café until she walked out, purse slung over her shoulder, looking exhausted but no less beautiful.
He caught up with her on the sidewalk and greeted her with a smile. “Hi.”
She met his gaze, slowing to a stop and glancing up at him. “Hi,” she said warily. “Did you want something?”
“As a matter of fact, I was waiting for you to get out of work.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Why? Are you a glutton for punishment?” she asked wryly.
He shook his head and grinned. “I think I’m safe now. You have no coffee in your hand.”
“Seriously, is there something I can do for you?” she asked.
“It’s more what I can do for you. I figured after a long day at work you could use a hot meal.”
She blinked up at him, heavily fringed lashes over deep blue eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Why are you so suspicious?” He shoved his hands into his pockets and met her gaze, ignoring the tug of conscience reminding him she had a right to be skeptical about his interest.
She shrugged. “I’m from Manhattan. Not many people there are kind after you spill something on them and they don’t wait to take you out afterwards.”
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