by Laura Scott
“Mommy?” Trey’s voice was thick with sleep as he padded into the kitchen wearing his superhero jammies. “I’m hungry.”
Cold cereal and bagels seemed the way to go, especially since she’d be making a large breakfast tomorrow and Sunday. She picked up her son, nuzzled him for a moment, then set him in his booster chair. “What are you in the mood for? Wheaties or Raisin Bran?”
“Wheaties.”
The noise from the garage grew louder as they ate. The sawing in particular began to grate on her nerves. Didn’t her twin realize how important today was for them? They needed great guest reviews to get noticed. Offering the gazebo wedding package was a good marketing tool, but no one would care if the reviews related to the accommodations sucked.
She began making her grandmother’s strawberry rhubarb scones, doing her best to ignore the noise. Surely, Jazz and Dalton would come in looking for breakfast.
No doubt, they’d be disappointed to find cold cereal and bagels.
“Morning,” Jazz said, entering the kitchen.
Jemma rounded on her twin. “What in the world are you doing out there? This is hardly the best day to start working on the garage apartment.”
Jazz looked shocked at her outburst. “We have until three, right? That gives us almost eight hours, plenty of time.”
“Are you crazy? Why start today when you can’t work on it over the weekend? Our guests are coming for peace and quiet, not the cacophony of saws and hammers.” To her utter astonishment, tears pricked her eyes.
“Whoa, Jem, what’s wrong?” Jazz hurried over to envelop her in a big hug. “I’m sorry if the noise bothered you. I guess we got a little carried away.”
Jemma grabbed onto Jazz, soaking up her twin’s strength. “It’s not that. I’m a nervous wreck,” she confessed. “What if they hate my cooking? What if this first weekend ends up being a huge flop? What if they get bored here without anything to do? What if—”
“Stop right there.” Jazz’s tone was sharp with exasperation. “First of all, we can’t please everyone. Second, you’re an amazing cook, so no worries about the food. And lastly, they’re here to spend the night and have a good breakfast, it’s not our job to entertain them! The town has plenty of boats to rent and other lake activities going on, we don’t have to specifically offer things for them to do here. Now I want you to sit down and have another cup of tea.”
Jemma clung to her twin for another minute before reluctantly letting go. She collapsed into the closest chair and put her head in her hands.
“You’re starting to scare me,” Jazz said, placing a mug of tea in front of her. “What brought on all this?”
Jemma took a sip of her tea. “It’s been building all week. Between stressing about Randal and the pressure of our opening weekend, I’m losing it.”
Jazz glanced at the stuff sitting on the counter. “Do you want me to help?”
That made her laugh. “Um, no. You’re far better with a hammer than a spatula.”
“Yeah. No joke.” Jazz came over to sit beside her. “But honestly, Jem, I don’t like seeing you stressed out like this. If it’s too much for you, we can hire someone to cook. Maybe we can convince the cook at Daisy’s Diner to come work for us.”
“No, it’s fine.” Jemma waved a hand. “I’ll be okay. Truly. Just chalk it up to a minor panic attack.”
“If you’re sure.” Jazz glanced around the kitchen. “No need for you to worry about feeding me and Dalton today. We’ll grab something at the diner and bring something in for lunch, too. That way you can have the kitchen all to yourself.”
“Thanks, Jazz, but you don’t have to go to the diner for breakfast. Help yourself to cereal and bagels. Bringing something home for lunch would be great, though.”
“Done.” Jazz gave her another quick hug, then set about pulling bowls out of the cupboards.
When Jazz and Dalton were finished, they went back to work on the garage. Feeling calmer, Jemma made her strawberry rhubarb scones, then worked on the cranberry muffins.
She taste tested a strawberry rhubarb scone, relieved when it melted in her mouth. Perfect.
The rest of the day dragged slowly. After lunch, she went out to see what Jazz and Dalton were doing in the garage. They had already put in a subfloor and were putting up studs for the interior walls.
As promised, Jazz and Dalton finished working at two thirty and agreed to take Trey for a few hours to keep the boy out of her hair. Garth arrived at three sharp, and their first guests arrived shortly thereafter.
Jemma offered tea, lemonade, and decaf coffee along with the strawberry rhubarb scones. The first couple were in their mid-fifties, Mr. and Mrs. Waylon Perry, who were here to celebrate their thirty-third wedding anniversary.
The rest of the guests arrived within the next ninety minutes, but the engaged couple ended up being just a young woman.
“I’m here alone. My fiancé had to work at the last minute,” Sherry Talbot said with an apologetic smile. She was a tall, willowy woman with jet-black straight hair and classically beautiful features that made Jemma feel like a frump.
“Not a problem.” Jemma hid her disappointment. “I hope you’ll enjoy the blue room. And if you haven’t decided on a wedding venue, we have a brochure about our gazebo wedding package.”
“Interesting,” Sherry said in a noncommittal tone. Jemma’s hopes of securing a new wedding weekend dissipated, but she did her best to keep a smile on her face.
After Ms. Talbot left, Garth gently tugged her aside. He’d stayed in the kitchen where he wouldn’t be as noticeable but could still see the guests as they checked in.
“Does she look familiar to you?”
She wrinkled her brow. “Who? Sherry Talbot?” When he nodded, she shook her head. “No, why?”
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. “Never mind. It’s probably just my imagination.”
“Well, that’s the first hurdle,” Jemma said, carrying the tray of empty cups and plates to the kitchen. “Next up, breakfast tomorrow.”
A knock at the front door had her turning around in surprise. All four couples, minus one fiancé, had arrived. She wasn’t expecting anyone else.
She opened the door to find a well-groomed man with sandy brown hair wearing tan khaki pants and a navy-blue polo shirt standing outside. He was slight in stature but his smile seemed genuine. “Hi, I’m wondering if you have an available room for the night?”
Peering past him, she could see there wasn’t anyone else accompanying him. “Sure, please come in.” Putting her unease aside, she stepped back to allow him to enter the B&B.
She could feel Garth’s gaze boring into her back as she went through the process of obtaining ID and payment for the night.
This was what they wanted, right? To have all their rooms filled with paying guests?
Yet as she took his information, she couldn’t help thinking that providing a room to a man traveling alone might be more than she’d bargained for.
11
Listening to Jemma warmly greet the stranger, sweetly informing him of their amenities, grated like nails on a chalkboard. Garth didn’t like the fact that this guy would be staying here overnight alone, and the caveman part of him wanted to butt in between them, flashing the gun on his hip, staking his claim.
Jealous? Ridiculous. The guy wouldn’t be here more than a day or two at the most. Besides, he had no personal claim on Jemma.
No matter how much he might want one.
Still, he needed to let this guest know that he was armed and on guard. He subtly eased closer to the doorway, hoping the guy would catch a glimpse of him. But the new guest didn’t appear to notice, his gaze riveted on Jemma.
Keeping his mouth shut wasn’t easy, and one second after Jemma escorted the stranger upstairs to the rose room, Garth went to the desk to get a good look at the guy’s driver’s license.
His name was Dominic W. Williams, and the driver’s license was from Michigan with a Detroit address
.
At least he wasn’t from Bloomington or Chicago, Illinois.
Garth quickly copied down the name and DL number, so he could run a background check. On the heels of Cunningham showing up in McNally Bay, it was difficult to believe the stranger’s arrival was nothing more than a coincidence.
A sense of alarm hit hard. There would be many strangers staying at the B&B each week. How could he run background checks on all of them?
“Five rooms with paying guests!” Jemma exclaimed, breezing into the kitchen. “I’m so excited!”
“Jemma, listen . . .”
“Not now,” she cut him off. “I have to bring scones and decaf coffee to Mr. Williams.”
He ground his teeth together hard enough to crack a filling. “This is important, Jemma,” he tried again. “We don’t know anything about this guy.”
Ignoring him, she put a couple of scones on a plate, added a cloth napkin, silverware, and a hot cup of coffee with a tiny container of creamer and a bowl of sugar cubes. She lifted the tray and carefully edged past him.
His laptop was in the yellow room, so he followed her through the great room and up the curved staircase. Remembering the layout of the upstairs, he took strong satisfaction in knowing his room was right next to the one where Williams was staying.
The door to the rose room was open. Jemma had set the tray on the bed and was still chatting with her latest guest. Garth scowled and made sure to walk directly past the open door to his room. Even better for this guy to understand there was a cop sleeping next to him.
Garth didn’t linger but carried the computer downstairs to the kitchen. It didn’t take long for him to access the database and to verify that Dominic Williams didn’t have a criminal record.
The only red flag was that the guy was listed as self-employed. He tapped his fingers on the table trying to envision what type of work this guy did that would send him traveling throughout the state staying at B&Bs.
Insurance sales? Some other kind of sales? Travel Agent? Computer software troubleshooter? The more he thought about it the more options he could come up with. He made a mental note to sit near Williams at breakfast the next morning.
Jemma returned to the kitchen and flopped into the chair across from him. “I did it! Everyone is settled in, and Jazz and I don’t have anything more to do until early tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, you’re a natural, Jemma.” His earlier annoyance had evaporated, and he was proud of what she’d accomplished. “I did a background check on Williams, no criminal record. No financial issues either.”
Her smile vanished, and she gave him the evil eye. “You can’t keep doing this, Garth. You can’t screen every guest we have throughout the year.”
“I know.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “But considering what’s been going on around here, don’t you think this is the best approach? You have no way of knowing if that same guy was the one who slashed your tires because Cunningham asked him to.”
She made a phfft noise and waved her hand. “He’s a nice guy, clean-cut and well mannered. Not the type to slash a woman’s tires.”
“Yeah, just like Ted Bundy was an all-around great guy.” He didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm as his frustration began to build. “Jemma, as a single mother you have Trey to protect. You can’t afford to be so trusting of strangers.”
Her brown eyes darkened, and she jumped to her feet. “How dare you insinuate I’m putting my son in harm’s way by running a B and B? I’m the one who called you with concerns over Randal being here, remember? I know very well that I need to be careful. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to turn away a paying guest.”
Fighting wasn’t going to solve anything, so he did his best to corral his emotions. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say you weren’t being careful. I’m only trying to point out that doing background checks on your guests is a small price to pay for some peace of mind.”
“For your peace of mind? Or mine? Frankly, we need the money, or doesn’t that matter? Don’t you care about what I’m going through?”
“Of course I do.” He was puzzled by her sudden outburst. The money reference was probably related to her tires, and he wanted to offer to take care of it but sensed that would only cause her to become more upset.
Jemma abruptly sighed and dropped her chin to her chest. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head and looked up at him. “I don’t know what my problem is today. I lashed out at Jazz earlier, and now I’m doing the same with you.”
He stood and crossed over to her. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t add to your stress level on your first official day of business.” He drew her close for a brief hug. “Forgive me?”
She buried her face against his chest and nodded. He cradled her close, offering comfort. Her arms crept up around his neck, and the way she clung to him set his blood humming. Being with her like this felt so right.
He liked her and wanted her with a passion he hadn’t felt in years. He knew Trey was temporarily staying with Jazz and Dalton, so he gently lifted Jemma’s chin, threaded his fingers through her silky hair, and captured her mouth with his.
Jemma readily and willingly lost herself in Garth’s kiss. He tasted sweet from the strawberry in her scones, and his passion made her blood surge with want and need.
It had been so long since she’d been treated like a lovely desirable woman. And now that she had the sensation within her reach, she never wanted to let it go.
“MOM!” Trey’s excited voice, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut, had her pulling abruptly out of Garth’s embrace. She took a wobbly step backward and tried to smooth her hair. “Aunty Jazz got a puppy! But I get to name her. I picked Goldie!”
Puppy? Huh? She struggled to pull herself together enough to follow her son’s logic. “I told you, we can’t have a puppy while there are guests staying here.”
“It’s our puppy,” Jazz said, coming in behind Trey. Her twin lifted an eyebrow and glanced between her and Garth in a way that convinced Jemma that her sister knew exactly what they’d been doing before she’d interrupted. “We’re going to keep her at our place, but we’re going to share her with Trey.”
“Goldie is so pretty, Mom,” Trey added, hopping from one foot to the other. “You hav’ta come see her! Hurry!”
“We’ll watch the puppy,” Jazz reiterated, seeing the skeptical expression in Jemma’s eyes. “And Trey will be able to play with Goldie whenever he wants, but we’ll do the work.”
It seemed too good to be true, and probably was, but she decided it was the best compromise she’d get. “Okay, then, introduce me to Goldie.”
Trey grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. “You’re gonna love her, Mom.”
Jemma wasn’t so sure, but when the little fluff of blonde curls began running in circles around her, wagging her tail with excitement, she melted.
“Isn’t she amazing?” Trey asked, taking the puppy from her arms and holding her against his chest.
“She is.” Jemma looked up at Jazz. “Thank you.”
Jazz grinned. “She’s just here for a visit, she can’t be released for another week. But she’s ours if we want her.”
“I want her,” Trey said with a devout expression on his face. “Please?”
“We’ll share her,” Jazz said, ruffling Trey’s hair.
Jemma knew she owed her sister, big time. This was the perfect compromise.
Now she needed to hold up her end of the bargain. How her guests enjoyed her breakfast would be the best indication if their little business would succeed . . .
Or fail.
Inwardly reeling from the impact of Jemma’s kiss, Garth tried to focus on Trey and Jemma interacting with Goldie. He had to give Jazz credit for coming up with the optimal solution to the puppy problem.
His pulse still hadn’t settled into a normal rhythm in the aftermath of their kiss, and he wondered if it ever would. His attraction to Jemma was growing stronger each day. Tellin
g himself he needed to remain professional wasn’t working. Even forcing himself to remember Kate and Sophie didn’t help.
Somehow, Jemma and Trey had wiggled their way into his heart.
“Okay, Trey. Time for Goldie to go back to her mom,” Jazz said.
“Nooo,” Trey protested.
“Trey.” Jemma’s tone held a stern warning. “Aunt Jazz told you that Goldie isn’t old enough yet. She still needs her mommy.”
“Just like you, do,” Garth added. “Come on, Trey.”
Trey reluctantly released the puppy into Jazz’s care.
“Jemma, we’re bringing over dinner tonight,” Dalton spoke up. “We’ll drive the puppy back and then pick up a couple of large trays of lasagna from the local Italian restaurant. Sound okay?”
“Absolutely,” Jemma said with a smile. “Gino’s, right? Their food is awesome.”
Jazz suddenly snapped her fingers. “Oh, that reminds me! I was thinking we should cross promote, get flyers from Gino’s, Chen Lee’s, and Daisy’s Diner for our guests.”
“I’ll grab a handful from Gino’s tonight,” Dalton offered.
“Thanks.” Jemma reached for Trey’s hand. “Time to get back to the B and B.”
Garth swept his gaze over the area as they made the trip back to the house. Nothing seemed out of place, but it occurred to him that it had been almost forty-eight hours since Jemma’s tires were slashed. Granted, Cunningham had shown up at headquarters earlier in the day, but Garth still sensed that another attempt against Jemma and/or Trey wasn’t too far off.
Stalkers took a perverse pleasure in keeping their victims off balance. He had no reason to believe Cunningham was any different. In fact, just the fact that Cunningham had come here to confront him told Garth a lot.
The guy had showed up to gloat. To prove his innocence when they both knew he was anything but. Based on Garth’s expert opinion, he knew Cunningham was paying someone to assist him in stalking Jemma and Trey. If not for the attempt to pick up Trey at his preschool, he’d think her ex only cared about hurting her. But Trey was also in danger, maybe more.