Surrender to Love

by Raine English

  “You did? What did you think?”

  “I’m amazed at what Grandfather and Frank have done.”

  Her grandmother leaned against her cane. “Of course, they didn’t always have all that fancy equipment, but the end result has always been the same.”

  “A handcrafted premium-quality beer.”

  “You’re a fast learner.” Her grandmother smiled. “You couldn’t have spent all this time at the brewery, though. What else did you do?”

  “We went to Candle Ridge.” Tara spit out the words quickly, then turned away before her grandmother could see her embarrassment. She hurried toward the stairs. “I’ll be down after I change. It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Did you say Candle Ridge?”

  “Yes.” She raced up the stairs, but not before hearing her grandmother’s laughter.

  Once in her room, she slipped off her sweatshirt and tossed it on the bed. She opened the French door to let in some air and spotted Easton below on the pier, staring out at the ocean, and then, as if he sensed she watched him, he turned and looked up at her. She stood there a minute longer, then stepped back into the shadow of her room. After quickly changing into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt, she looked out again before closing the door, but he was gone.

  She went downstairs and found her grandmother sitting at the kitchen table. Tara made them each a sandwich, along with a bowl of the vegetable soup she’d made the other day.

  Before taking a bite of her dinner, her grandmother asked, “What did you think of the view from Candle Ridge?”

  “Breathtakingly beautiful. I’d like to see it at night sometime.” Tara wondered if her grandmother really cared what she thought of the view, or if she was simply fishing for info about what happened between her and Easton.

  “I’ll bet you could get that handsome young man of yours to take you back there.”

  Tara set her soup spoon down and stared at her. “Grandmother, he’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Maybe not yet…” She smiled slyly before taking a bite of her sandwich.

  “You’ve known Easton a long time.”

  “Since he was a child. The family would spend every summer next door. Everything changed, though, when his mother died. He was in high school. A junior, I think. Tragic. So tragic.”

  Her pulse began to beat erratically. “How’d she die?”

  Her grandmother lowered her voice as if she was letting Tara in on a secret. “She drowned not too far from the pier.”

  She felt as if a hand had closed around her throat. “I didn’t know.”

  “Well, how could you, my dear. Easton doesn’t like to talk about it. Neither does Boyd. That’s when their relationship really fell apart. And it didn’t help that Bennett aggravated the situation. He was always jealous of Easton. You see, Bennett never knew his father, and his mother wasn’t exactly a great role model. He always looked up to Boyd, so when he took Bennett under his wing, the boy would make Easton look bad every opportunity he could.”

  Tara leaned back in her chair. That explained a lot, and she thought she understood Easton much better now. She’d been right about Bennett too.

  They ate the rest of their dinner in silence, and she was glad, because she was still processing everything she’d just learned.

  Later, when she was up in bed, instead of falling asleep right away, she just stared at the ceiling, thinking about Easton. She couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through as a teenage boy. No wonder he’d shied away from relationships. And to think she’d been moaning to him about how Jason had cheated on her when what he’d endured was a thousand times worse.

  Would he ever be able to fully open his heart to anyone?

  ~*~

  Easton tossed and turned. He couldn’t get to sleep no matter how hard he tried. Maybe it was the blowup he’d had with his father. He hadn’t been happy to learn that Easton had taken Tara to the brewery. Though why that should’ve made him angry was a mystery. After all, he wanted Easton to spend time with her, so what difference did it make where he took her. No matter what he did, it never pleased his father, so he’d given up trying to a long, long time ago.

  Another reason he might not be able to sleep was that his thoughts kept going back to when he’d held Tara up at Candle Ridge. Something intense had flared through his body, and then when he kissed her, it grew to a burning heat that made him think he might explode. He couldn’t explain why she made him feel that way. Sure, she was gorgeous, but he’d been with plenty of really hot women before, and they’d never done that to him. There was just something about her that drove him crazy…crazy with desire.

  A first he’d been hurt and, he had to admit, a little annoyed that she didn’t let him kiss her good night, but he could understand her reluctance to get involved with him. She’d just been through a breakup with a guy who’d cheated on her. Of course, she’d be a little gun-shy. Actually, she’d surprised him when she accepted his advances on the hood of the car. But he knew by her behavior on the ride home that she was second-guessing what had happened between them.

  Images of her standing in the doorway when he was out on the pier flickered through his mind. He recalled how the moonlight had streamed over her long golden hair and onto her shoulders. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and finally fell asleep dreaming of Tara.

  ~*~

  Tara woke to sun streaming in over her face. Another beautiful day on Breakers Island. She stretched her arms, then rolled over to check her phone for the time. Six a.m. Perfect. She’d wanted to get up extra early today to finish cleaning the house. She took a quick shower, slipped on a pair of shorts and a cotton shirt, tied her wet hair up in a bun, and then headed downstairs. She took the back stairs to avoid bothering her grandmother, who most likely was still asleep.

  After making a pot of coffee, she padded down the hall toward the front door, hoping to find a newspaper outside on the porch. When she walked by the library, her steps came to an immediate halt. She backed up and stood in the doorway, her hand covering her mouth in horror. What had happened in there? The neat piles she’d had stacked on the desk were no longer standing. Papers were strewn everywhere. Books from the bookcase had been thrown on the floor. She raced out of the room and down the hall. Everywhere she looked, things had been disrupted. In the dining room, the china cabinet doors were open, and broken pieces of knickknacks littered the table, chairs, and floor. She reached for the call box on the wall and pressed the button. “Grandmother,” she cried, fully aware of the hysteria in her voice. “Are you all right?” Sheer black fright swept through her. If this is what the first floor looked like, what must have happened upstairs?

  Without waiting for an answer, she charged up to the second floor, taking two steps at a time. When she came to her grandmother’s room, her racing heart slowed a little as she saw that it was untouched. In the bed, her grandmother yawned and rubbed her eyes, then reached for her glasses on the nightstand and slipped them on. “Tara? I thought that was you standing in the doorway. What are you doing? What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

  She came into the room and sat beside her on the bed, folding her hands in her lap to stop them from trembling. “Someone’s broken into the house.”

  Her grandmother sat up straight. A long deep line furrowed her brows. “Broken in? How do you know?”

  “Because everything’s a mess downstairs.”

  The old woman put her hand over Tara’s. “That was probably just Addison having some fun. He likes to do that every now and then. Move things, throw his papers around…”

  That was no ghost. What happened downstairs was done by a living, breathing human being. A terrifying thought occurred to her. Whoever did that could still be in the house. She grabbed the bathrobe draped over the back of a chair, then handed it to her grandmother. “Quick, put this on. We’ve got to go.”

  She slipped her arms in the robe’s sleeves. “Go? Go where? I really think you’re overreacting. Nothing bad ever happens h
ere.”

  Tara helped her grandmother out of bed. “Let’s hope that I am, but in case I’m not, it’s best that we get out of here until we can have the house checked out.”

  Thankfully, her grandmother stopped fussing. Tara scanned the hallway before they headed down the stairs, making sure no one was coming out of any of the other bedrooms. When they were at the front door and she went to unlock the deadbolt, she discovered that it wasn’t locked. “Grandmother,” she said over her shoulder, “did you get up during the night and unlock the door?”

  A guilty flush reddened her cheeks. “I came down about midnight to make a cup of tea. My cough was bothering me, and even though I’d taken medicine, I had a tickle in my throat that wouldn’t go away. I saw a car parked out on the street. I opened the door to get a better look to see if I recognized it and must have forgotten to lock the door after that.” Her wrinkled face scrunched up, and tears welled in her eyes.

  Tara put her arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay. Come on. Let’s go next door.”

  As they walked over to the Douglas house, Tara realized two things: her grandmother had inadvertently let the intruder in, and the reason she didn’t hear anything was because the codeine from the cough medicine must’ve kicked in, putting her into a deep sleep.

  There was no way Tara could’ve heard anything, being all the way up on the third floor. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all to have her room up there.

  She rang the bell, and a moment later, the door swung open. Bennett stood there dressed in a suit with an untied necktie dangling down both sides of his chest. He stared at them with raised brows. “Good morning. It’s a little early for a visit, wouldn’t you say?”

  She saw Easton coming down the stairs, and before she could answer, he pushed by his cousin and was out on the porch with them.

  “What’s going on?” He took her hands between his big strong ones.

  “Someone got into the house last night, and I don’t know if he’s still in there.”

  He glanced next door, then ushered them into the foyer. “Have you called the police?”

  She shook her head. “No, not yet. My first thought was for us to get out.”

  “Do you know if anything was taken?” Bennett asked.

  Tara hadn’t even noticed that Bennett was still in the room. He was standing in front of a hall mirror, fixing his tie.

  “I doubt if they had time to take inventory.” Easton shot his cousin an irritated glance, then he looked back over at Tara as he pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. “Let me give Officer Bailey a call. He’s what we have for police on the island.”

  “I can’t believe this happened. I’ve always felt so safe here.” There was no missing the tremble in her grandmother’s voice, and her usually rosy complexion had gone pale.

  Easton must’ve noticed it too, because he took hold of her arm and led her into one of the front rooms and then over to the sofa. “Would you like something to drink?”

  She held a liver-spotted hand up while shaking her head. “No, thank you. I’m fine now.”

  Tara sat beside her and watched as Easton dialed the phone.

  A few seconds later, he said, “Hello, Officer Dailey. This is Easton Douglas. There’s been a break-in next door at the Spencer house.” There was a short pause while he listened to the officer, then he went on to say, “That’s right. Everyone’s safe. Just Emily Spencer and her granddaughter are living there, and they’re at my house with me.” There was another short pause before Easton said, “Thank you. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  He shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked up at Tara and her grandmother. “He’ll be right over.”

  Bennett poked his head in the doorway. “Seeing as you’ve got everything under control, I’ll be off to work. Should I tell your dad that you’ll be late?”

  A vein pulsed at the side of Easton’s neck, and Tara could tell that he was trying to control his temper. “I would appreciate that.”

  The tension between cousins was extremely high this morning, and she wondered what had happened to bring that about.

  With all the stuff going on with the Douglas family and the strange happenings at her grandmother’s house, the quiet summer she’d anticipated was fast becoming one full of intrigue.

  Chapter Five

  Easton watched as Tara and her grandmother went through the house, checking to see what might have been stolen. Earlier, he’d gone room by room with Officer Dailey, making sure the intruder wasn’t still lurking. He hadn’t expected to find anyone inside, since most thieves don’t hang around waiting to be caught, but they had to check to ensure the women’s safety.

  “As far as I can tell, nothing’s missing.” Emily told the officer.

  “It’s obvious the perpetrator was searching for something. Do you have any idea what that might have been?” he asked.

  The wrinkles on her forehead grew deeper as she scowled. “No. No idea.”

  The officer made some notes. “I’m sorry this happened, Mrs. Spencer. I don’t recall there ever being a break-in on the island before. I’ll file a report and have a cruiser patrol the area tonight.” He looked her square in the eyes. “Be sure to keep your doors locked from now on.”

  Two red spots appeared on her cheeks, and she glanced over at Tara. “Once my granddaughter locks up, I’m not going anywhere near that front door.”

  After the officer left, Easton pulled Tara aside into the parlor. “I have to go to work. Are you going to be all right?”

  “We’ll be fine.” Despite her attempt at a smile, the slight tremble of her bottom lip gave away that she was still frightened.

  He wanted to take her in his arms, but he didn’t think that would be a good move with her grandmother in the other room. Instead, he brushed a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear and letting his hand rest briefly against the side of her face. She closed her eyes, and he had to fight an overwhelming urge to kiss her. “I’ll be back soon. If you need me, for anything at all, call my cell.”

  She opened her eyes, and they reflected less anxiety. Her lips curved up into a slight smile. “I would, if I had your number.”

  “That’s right. We never exchanged them. Get your phone, and I’ll put it in there.”

  She picked it up off one of the side tables and then handed it to him. After he programmed in his number, he gave it back. “Remember, call me. If I don’t pick up, leave a message. I’ll get right back to you. Promise.”

  Her entire face brightened when she offered him a real smile this time. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

  As he drove to the brewery, the anger that he’d kept under control was threatening to break free. He had a pretty good idea who the intruder was. Damn that Bennett. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. His cousin had pushed things too far this time.

  He pressed down on the accelerator, and the Mercedes roared down the road. It handled well at top speeds, as it should, and Easton took the twists and turns of the shore-lined road with reckless abandon. When he reached the brewery, he tore into the parking lot, sending gravel flying.

  Easton marched into the front hall, passing the executive offices and not caring a bit that numerous heads looked up from their desks as he stormed by. He stopped at accounting, pushing the door open and letting it slam shut with a bang. Tim Carter, the CFO, was standing behind Bennett’s chair, looking over his cousin’s shoulder as they studied a spreadsheet on the computer. “Excuse me, Tim, but I need to speak with Bennett in private.”

  This wasn’t the first time they’d gone at it in front of the staff, and Easton doubted it would be the last.

  Tim looked at Easton and then Bennett with annoyance. “I hope this’ll be quick. We have a payroll to meet.”

  After Tim left, Easton punched his fist on Bennett’s desk, grazing the side of his cousin’s hand. Bennett was on his feet a second later, facing him with nostril’s flaring. “Who the hell do you think y
ou are coming into my office like a lunatic and ordering Tim out?”

  “You’re lucky it was the desk I whaled on and not your face.”

  “You’ve lost your mind.” Bennett tried to walk around him, but Easton grabbed his arm, his fingers curling around it like a vise.

  “You’re the one who broke into the Spencer house last night.” He narrowed his eyes to slits and glared at Bennett.

  “I may have gone in there a few times in the past looking for the codicil, but I never tore up the place. I’m not that stupid. Besides, I was up late last night working—well past two a.m.—on the new ad campaign. Ask your dad.”

  “Ask me what?” Boyd strolled into the room, closing the door firmly behind him. “Tim thought I might be needed in here, and I can see that he was right.” His gaze landed directly on Easton’s hand gripping Bennett’s arm. He relaxed his hold, and his cousin yanked his arm back.

  “Easton’s accusing me of breaking into Emily’s house,” he whined like a spoiled child.

  “Well, if you didn’t do it, who did?” Easton glowered at him.

  “How should I know?” Bennett shook his arm out, then sat back down at his desk.

  “There you have it. Bennett said he didn’t do it, so now you can settle down,” his father said, acting like a referee, as if he’d ever been fair about anything.

  Easton narrowed his eyes to slits. “You may have won this round, cous, but I’ll be watching you. You can bet on that.” Then he turned to his dad. “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

  Boyd frowned. “Didn’t you just get here?”

  “Yep, and now I’m leaving.” Easton strode by him without looking back.

  When he was in his car, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed his grandfather’s number. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

  ~*~

  Tara sat on the pier with her legs crossed Indian style and her grandfather’s journal resting on her lap. She thought back to what Officer Dailey had said about the break-in and how it didn’t appear to have been done by your typical robber, since nothing was stolen. He’d said it looked like the person had come in for something specific. What could that have been? If only her grandfather were still alive. She bet he’d know. Did it have something to do with his business—the brewery? If she was lucky, he’d made mention of it somewhere in his journal.