Promise Cove

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Thank you.” Jordan eyed him over her cup. She wondered if they were back on an even keel. For some reason it didn’t feel awkward after last night. She sucked up her courage and finally said, “You should have stayed last night, Nick.”

  He laughed. “I wanted to, but you were sauced. Even a player knows the rules.” He continued with breakfast, letting the bacon cool as he cracked eggs into a skillet to scramble. Trying for a detached mood, he calmly asked, “How’d you sleep?”

  Okay, so he wanted to play it cold, she could do that. “Like a rock.”

  “Good. You needed it.”

  She sipped her coffee, wanting desperately to recapture the easy banter they once had between the two of them. “Catch any fish?”

  “A couple. I had no idea about Carla’s visit, but I wanted to get back here. I missed being here, missed you and Hutton.”

  As he busied himself dumping some of the eggs onto a plate and taking it over to Hutton, he let his words hang for effect. When he looked up at Jordan, their eyes locked.

  She couldn’t keep up with his moods or gauge how she was supposed to respond so she went with the truth. “I’m so glad you came back last night. You must have known I needed you. I’m sorry I feel asleep.”

  “Hey, you needed a shoulder, I was there.” Grabbing bread, he stuffed four pieces into the toaster. Filled up two glasses with orange juice. “And I needed to be here with you, too.”

  “Last night I was ready to give up, just pack up and go, but…”

  “You didn’t mean it.”

  She smiled sheepishly. “I was angry.”

  “It was a rotten thing for someone to do, call social services like that.”

  She blew out a breath. “Well, I need to get over it. I don’t have time to dwell on petty stuff like that. Carla says it’s over and I have to believe her, otherwise—”

  “Good because I have something that might make you feel better.”

  She walked over to where he stood, touched her hand to his face. “Do you ever. And it certainly did make me feel better.”

  His lips curved. “Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s a surprise,” he said casually as he sat down at the table and dug into his food. He pushed the platter of eggs toward her. “Here eat your eggs before they get cold.”

  “You’re going to make me wait?” Scooping up eggs onto her plate, she chewed at her lip.

  He grinned. “Aww, I didn’t know you were so impatient.”

  “Very funny.” But she nibbled at her bacon clearly contemplating what it might be. “Is it a good surprise or a…”

  “Definitely good,” he said as he took a mouthful of eggs, and then slowly buttered his toast obviously enjoying the idea of making her wait.

  “So I’ll like it, because I really don’t want a bad surprise this early in the morning. Why don’t you just―give it to me. Now.” She smiled at her own joke.

  “It’s more fun this way, you saucy wench, a side benefit to watch you so—impatient.”

  Just then someone knocked on the back door. When Nick looked up, he saw Murphy standing on the back stoop. Nick let him in and noticed the man looked upset. “I thought you were fishing.”

  “Carla called me last night. Left a message on my cell, which I didn’t find until this morning. I was too upset to fish. Wade and I both came back in. Thought I’d stop by and tell Jordan what a rotten thing it was they did. Tell her I’m in her corner.”

  “Want coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  Nick motioned for him to take a seat at the table while he went over to the coffee pot. He looked over at Jordan, saw she had tears in her eyes.

  “Thanks, Murphy.”

  He reached to give her a hug. She noted how much he smelled like fish. “Once I got Carla’s message I wanted to get out here, tell you not to let this get to you. She said not to worry. She’ll take care of the paperwork. It’s done now Jordan, put it out of your mind. It’s obvious whoever made that call was just trying to make life tougher on you, hoping you’d run.” When Nick brought over his coffee, Murphy sat back down at the table. “I didn’t mean to stop by so early, didn’t mean to interrupt breakfast.”

  “We were done. You just wanted to make sure Jordan wasn’t about to leave. She isn’t. Want some eggs?”

  Before Murphy could respond, Jordan blurted out, “I’m sure it was Sissy.”

  “What makes you think it was her?”

  “She was angry that we gave Lilly the booth. Plus, she’s never liked me.”

  “Oh, that. Sissy’s always upset about something or other, always mad. Just last year she threatened me with a recall. She always makes idle threats. It’s her national pastime. Nobody much pays attention. It’s just Sissy’s way.”

  “No. I think she made the call, Murphy. Of course, I’ll never really know for sure.”

  “It’s over, Jordan. I’m here to tell you to put it behind you. Now that I know you aren’t planning on packing up, I feel better. I’m here to tell you to forget it and move on.”

  She nodded. “I’d just told Nick the same thing.”

  “Then we’re in agreement. You’re staying right here in Pelican Pointe. And yeah, I wouldn’t mind having some of those eggs and a couple of slices of bacon.”

  It made no sense for Jordan to dwell on someone as petty as Sissy Carr. She wasn’t even certain that it had been Sissy who had placed the call and would probably never know for sure. She decided she needed to spend some time outside tending to her herb garden. She had neglected her plants while trying to get the inside of the house ready. Gathering up Hutton, together they headed out to the garage to get her gardening tools.

  For the next hour she busied herself digging in the dirt, pulling weeds, watering, trying to take her mind off the past twenty-four hours. Every so often her mind drifted to the last thing she remembered, falling asleep with Nick’s arms wrapped around her. Even though this morning there had been no mention of her mind shattering climax, replaying it had her stomach fluttering, her pulse kicked up, she grew warm, and not from the sun.

  She could kick herself for falling asleep. She obviously was terrible at sending a man signals that it was time to take her to bed. Maybe she’d make a candlelight dinner tonight and seduce him.

  Content to dig in the dirt and pull weeds, she lost track of the time and was startled when she heard a car making its way up the long, narrow driveway. She got up, dusted off her jeans, before scooping up Hutton and hurrying around to the end of the house where she ran into Nick, who had obviously heard the car, too. At that moment, Jordan was stunned to see Hutton reach out her arms for Nick. Obliging, Nick dusted off his hands on his jeans before plucking her out of Jordan’s arms. As soon as they all three rounded the corner, Jordan spotted a pickup truck, loaded down with furniture in the bed, ambling up the drive. She took off in a run, yelling back at Nick, “It’s my sister, Ellen. Looks like they brought the rest of the furniture.”

  By the time Jordan reached the pickup, it had pulled to a stop and the female passenger, a woman in her mid thirties with the same dark blonde hair coloring but worn in a short bob, popped open the door and slipped out. Just before the two women started to hug, Ellen pointed to Jordan’s clothes and said, “Why are you so filthy?”

  “I’ve been digging in the garden. I’m so glad to see you.”

  Ignoring the dirt, Ellen pulled Jordan into her arms, wrapping her up. Just then, the man who had been driving the truck came around to the other side. “Don’t I get a hug too?”

  “Of course, I’m so glad to see you both. I thought you were coming down next weekend. Why didn’t you call?”

  “Because Sammy’s soccer league starts and it was either now while mom and dad could watch the kids or not at all. So we decided to bring down the last of Aunt Sophia’s antiques. And when Mom and Dad offered to let the boys spend the night, we jumped at the chance to get away. The Cove is always so beautiful this time of year.”

  “And Ellen wanted to surpris
e you. Looks like we did.” Turning to Nick who was holding Hutton in his arms, he reached out a hand. “I’m Tom Downey, Jordan’s brother-in-law.” Spotting the dog at the man’s feet, Tom asked, “Well, what have we got here? Looks like Hutton’s got herself a new puppy.”

  As the men shook hands, Nick introduced himself. “Nick Harris. And the puppy is Quake.”

  Behind the men, Ellen whispered to Jordan, “Oh, my God, that’s Nick? What a hunk. Not hard on the eyes, is he? I still can’t believe you’re letting a stranger live with you.”

  “Don’t start. He’s living over the garage and you know it. Besides, he’s been a perfect gentleman.”

  As is the language of sisters, Ellen eyed Jordan with doubt. “You sound disappointed.”

  Jordan nudged her sister in the ribs. “Shut up. He’s more like a godsend.” Or a saint, she decided. Just how many times could one woman throw herself at a man before he got the message? “And wait until you see the work he’s done, the progress we’ve made. Because of him, we might actually open on time.”

  It didn’t take long for Tom to commandeer Nick to help him unload the furniture out of the truck bed. For the next thirty minutes the men were busy carrying in antique beds, along with matching chests and dressers into the house and up the stairs into the guest rooms.

  Later during dinner, Ellen and Tom did their best to pull information out of Nick. At first, the conversation seemed strained and awkward, but when the talk turned to what progress Nick and Jordan had made on the house, they were soon discussing how to put the finishing touches on the place before opening day.

  Tom wanted Nick to know, “I can’t believe how much work you’ve gotten done since the last time we were here. You have me until we leave. If you want, I can help you carry in the rest of the furniture from the garage. That way Ellen can help Jordan get the rooms set up. And if there’s time I’d be happy to help you finish laying that flooring I saw up in that second bath.”

  “That’d be great. There’s a broken window in there that has to come out though. Just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

  “I saw that. There was a lot to do to this old house, Nick. Scott didn’t have enough time before…” His voice trailed off when he realized what he’d said. He looked over at Jordan, remorse written on his face. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be silly, Tom,” Jordan remarked trying to make Tom feel better.

  Tom sucked in a breath. “Well, we can’t have the guests using a bathroom with a broken window, now can we? If you order the glass, I’ll help you put it in.” He gave his wife a quick look as if to say, “Help me out here, dear.”

  Ellen took the hint. “I notice you’re taking one room at a time, finishing it before moving on to the next. That makes sense.”

  “Nick pointed that out right after he got here. Before, I was all over the place. I never seemed to be able to finish one thing before I’d move on to something else.”

  “You were stretched too thin.”

  Tom took a drink of iced tea and said wistfully, “I was hoping to get in some surfing before going back tomorrow. Do you surf, Nick?”

  “I do.”

  “Then maybe Jordan will let us use Scott’s boards. What do you say, Jordan?”

  “Tom, how can you say such a thing?” Ellen asked in a huff.

  Jordan reached over and put her hand on top of Ellen’s. “It’s okay. Scott’s boards aren’t a shrine. And it isn’t a federal crime to bring up Scott’s name.” She turned to Tom. “Go ahead and use whatever board you choose. Scott wouldn’t want them sitting there gathering dust. Nick’s already surfed. And when we have guests they’ll be using them as well. Scott bought them and wanted them used.”

  Ellen turned to stare at her sister. Silently, she wondered if maybe there might be something going on between these two. To Ellen, Jordan didn’t look as miserable as she had at Christmas. Could it be she’d already begun to heal? As soon as she heard Nick’s next comment, she was sure of one thing, these two definitely had a vibe going.

  “Jordan and I picked up one of those baby seats for Hutton. We’ve been taking bike rides down to the road and back. You should see Hutton get into the ride.”

  Ellen looked from Nick back to Jordan, and noticed the funny expression on her sister’s face. That couldn’t be love, she decided. It was too soon for her sister to have that goofy look on her face when it came to a stranger. Not knowing what to make of them, Ellen switched topics. “How are those recipes working out I sent you?”

  “Still experimenting. I haven’t tried the Cornish game hens yet, but up to now Nick and Hutton have been acting as my guinea pigs. What do you think of the chicken?”

  Without stopping to think, Tom revealed, “It’s a little dry.”

  Losing her patience with Tom, Ellen put down her fork, scolding him, “Tom, do you have to say the first thing that pops into your head every single time. For goodness sake, Jordan’s doing the best she can. And I for one happen to think the chicken tastes delicious.”

  Jordan smiled over her wine. “Down girl. Tom’s just being honest. I need to know what works and what doesn’t before I have a house full of guests and complaints about the food.”

  In an attempt to make amends, Tom offered, “I do love this bread.”

  “It’s brioche. It’s actually fairly simple to make. I found the recipe in one of mom’s old cookbooks,” Jordan explained.

  “Do you remember when we were kids those appetizers mom used to make with Bisquick for our sleepovers?”

  “The ones with pork sausage and cream cheese? Oh, God, I remember. Those might make an interesting breakfast dish for the buffet. And they were super simple to throw together.”

  “Aunt Sophia’s dresser looks good in the room with the bay window, don’t you think?”

  Ellen couldn’t help notice that Jordan practically beamed. It had to be because the house was starting to take shape.

  “Nick and I had this idea to name the rooms, like some of the other B & B’s do. We were thinking maybe an ocean theme, or maybe a shell theme, something like The Dolphin Room. What do you think?”

  Ellen looked uncomfortable. She wondered if Jordan realized she kept referring to them as we, like they were a couple. She wondered if this man might be taking advantage of her sister’s vulnerable state. She needed to find out. But instead of ruining dinner with questions, Ellen kept silent. She continued to listen as the three of them brainstormed names for the rooms and bantered ideas back and forth until Jordan got up to get dessert. When she brought back individual apple and cinnamon tarts, Jordan set one down in front of Tom and told him gently, “I hope this makes up for the dry chicken.”

  “Now Jordan that was no reflection on your cooking. You know I’m not really that fond of chicken.”

  “Don’t worry about it. If you’d let me know you were coming I’d have planned on grilling steak. So, it’s your own fault.”

  Everyone dug into the tarts and Nick sighed, “What this woman does with pie should be outlawed.”

  Again, Ellen watched as Nick looked longingly at Jordan. Every time Jordan moved the man’s eyes drifted to her sister—and lingered there a little too long. By the time Jordan poured fresh coffee, Ellen had decided there was something going on between these two. And when Hutton made it clear she wanted out of her high chair, Ellen sat stunned as Nick got up to get a wet washcloth to clean up the baby’s face as if he’d done so a hundred times before. There was something telling in the gesture, something familiar, as if the three of them were completely at ease with each other.

  But Jordan paid no attention to Ellen as she stood up to take Hutton out of Nick’s arms. “This little girl needs a bath. We’re off to scrub off some of this food.”

  “Yell if you need help,” Nick volunteered jovially before taking his seat to finish his coffee and dessert.

  But as soon as Jordan disappeared into the hallway, out of earshot, Ellen kicked Tom under the table, signaling it was time for the Spanish Inqu
isition. Ellen picked up her wine glass and got comfortable. With a little too much eagerness in her tone, she stated flatly, “I’ve tried nice. Now I’ll just get to the point. She isn’t over Scott.”

  “I believe you’re right,” Nick said evenly.

  Ellen looked at Tom for support, hoping he’d jump in with his own tough questioning.

  But Tom was a disappointment. “I really like your Harley. What year is it?”

  Without waiting for Nick’s reply, from across the table, Ellen stared down her husband. “Tom, don’t you want to ask Nick about his work, if he makes a decent living working as a carpenter?”

  Finally, picking up on the hint, but clearly uncomfortable doing so, Tom asked, “Uh, is there plenty of work for a carpenter these days?”

  “Actually, I’m an investment banker,” Nick revealed smoothly, sipping his coffee.

  Ellen came close to spitting out her wine. Quickly recovering, she jumped on that. “Why would an investment banker be working as a handyman?”

  From carpenter to handyman was a big drop in a few short minutes, Nick mused, as he picked up his coffee cup again. But he good-naturedly played along with the nosy sister. “I took a leave of absence to recharge and ended up here along the coast.” Nick immediately sensed Ellen’s distrust. He couldn’t in good conscience blame her for it.

  But it was Tom who frowned at his wife, ignored the glare she sent his way. “What do you think of the location of this place, Nick? Do you think she’s got a chance of making it work? Will she get the traffic she needs to make a go? We’re worried about her all alone out here.”

  Nick sighed. He didn’t blame them for that either. “Location isn’t the problem. The hostile town is another matter. It isn’t that they aren’t supportive, because they aren’t, but I can just picture someone pulling off the I-5 or the 101 maybe lost, needing to find lodging for the evening. Then them making their way into Pelican Pointe and having someone in town telling them they have to go all the way into Santa Cruz for a room just for spite. She won’t get much help out of Pelican Pointe.”