Promise Cove (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 1)

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Promise Cove (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 1) Page 12

by Vickie McKeehan


  Without giving anything away, he said quietly, “He knows I’d do the same for him in a heartbeat.” Scott’s image flashed into his head.

  Jordan took a long look at the man standing in her kitchen. He wasn’t that different from the man she’d married. Scott had been a successful software engineer, a graduate of Cal Poly who’d gotten in on the ground floor of a video game company that took off. But before all that, he’d joined the Guard during his college days along with a couple of his buddies. And for a guy who pretty much had been considered a nerd most of his life, the Guard allowed him to pursue his love of the outdoors while earning extra money he’d used for college.

  A California native who loved hiking the hills around San Francisco, where he worked, Scott had been especially fond of the water. A surfer at heart, Scott had spent most of his days after college graduation in pursuit of a good time, any good time. That is, until a particular warm, sunny day at Ocean Beach where he’d gone to surf. He’d happened upon a beautiful college senior with big brown eyes and honey-blonde hair, trying to tackle some serious waves. She’d gotten in trouble with the undertow, and he’d pulled a struggling Jordan out of the surf. By the time she’d dried off, he’d cajoled a dinner date out of her. From that point on, he’d been a goner. They’d hit it off and moved in together after she graduated college. Six months later there was a wedding. With marriage came the talk of kids and settling down in Pelican Pointe for real to raise those kids.

  But Iraq had come along and put a serious dent in those plans.

  Jordan remembered how close Scott had been to the men in his unit. So looking at Nick now, told her everything she needed to know about the two men she considered her first real guests. Nick had made one phone call and gotten an electrician, a friend to show up for him. It sounded exactly like something Scott would have done for someone.

  Jordan gave Nick a shy smile. “You really like my cooking?”

  “We just scarfed down a whole quiche in one sitting, you have to ask?”

  “A girl likes a little validation every now and then.”

  As he turned to head out the door to catch up with Ben, he looked back at her and said solemnly, “Anytime, Jordan. I’m right here.”

  Before she could reply, he closed the door leaving her standing there with her mouth open.

  At supper that night, Nick bit into the lasagna. “Oh. This. Is. Fantastic. Woman, you could easily open a restaurant serving food like this. Taste this, Ben.” He forked up another bite and closed his eyes.

  Ben dug in earnestly to his own plate. “Mmmm. I like Italian but this is the best lasagna I’ve ever eaten. Uh, you might not want to mention that little tidbit to Sheryl though.” He laughed but his pleasure was obvious. He continued eating before finally telling her, “You’re a culinary genius, Jordan.”

  She looked around the dining room table. Once again, her daughter hadn’t bothered with a spoon. She had red sauce all over her face and in her hair. The two men were obviously enjoying their meal. Her spirits lifted. At times like this, she thought everything might be okay after all.

  After getting Hutton down for the night, she went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. As she ran the water to fill the kettle, she heard the thud of a basketball hitting the concrete, before hitting the rim and bouncing off, and then male voices. Sure enough, when she glanced out the kitchen window she saw them. With only the outside garage light to illuminate the area in the middle of the driveway she saw two grown, sweaty men going at it in a fierce game of one-on-one. She listened to the grunts and good-natured ribbing that accompanied the battle, and then watched as Ben elbowed Nick for position. Nick, the taller one, blocked Ben’s shot, caught the rebound, spun and put it up for two. Jordan watched in fascination as these muscular men resembled two power forwards shoving and pushing each other and yet played the game with as much enthusiasm as two twelve-year-old boys might before their mothers called them inside to get ready for bed.

  When the kettle whistled, snapping her back to the moment, she suddenly lost her taste for the tea. Neither was she ready to settle into that big empty king-sized bed to read more of Scott’s letters. Or worse still, another novel, where someone else’s life turned out just fine in the process.

  On impulse, she went to the fridge and pulled out three beers, twisted off the lids. With her hands full, she stopped long enough to pick up the baby monitor from the kitchen counter and headed outside.

  Just as Nick went up to block a shot, she announced from the driveway, “You two look like you could use a cold beer.” Her words had Nick stopping and turning. But not Ben. He continued to the basket, took the lapse in judgment on Nick’s part to send a hard shot to Nick’s ribs knocking him off balance and to the concrete. Nick landed hard on his butt. Ben scored the goal and gave himself a little hand pump in the process.

  “Oww,” Jordan said automatically. “That had to hurt.”

  “Don’t be such a girl,” Nick responded with a grin as he got to his feet.

  “I’ll take that beer,” Ben said winded.

  “You would,” Nick challenged. “You’re behind. And out of shape.”

  “Fuck you—oops. Sorry Jordan.”

  Jordan couldn’t help it, she giggled at these two. “No problem.” She handed off the beers and the two men sat down at the picnic table, trying to get their breath back. Both of them chugged down the beer as if it were water.

  Ben stopped long enough to look around the courtyard. “You got a nice place here, Jordan.”

  Nick wished, not for the first time today, that Ben would keep his mouth shut. It seemed every time he opened his mouth, he feared the man might give away his sneaky, lowdown little secret. But Nick had learned a long time ago that Ben, much like Scott, loved to talk. And Jordan was easy to talk to. So he sucked it up and tried to cut the guy some slack as he listened to Jordan tell Ben about The Cove.

  “Have you taken the trail down to the beach yet?”

  Ben shot a quick look toward his buddy. “Yeah, Nick and I took a walk down there after supper. The place is gorgeous, Jordan. Being this close to the ocean, I thought maybe I could go surfing if I get an early enough start in the morning.”

  “By all means, take all the time you need. There are plenty of short and long boards to choose from in the garage. Nick can show you. You should bring your wife here for a visit. I can guarantee you’ll get my best room at a terrific discount.”

  Ben laughed, but suddenly got to his feet, looking around for his watch which he’d taken off before the game. “What time is it?”

  “A little after eight.”

  “Great, if I hurry, I can call Sheryl, give her an update on Nick here and say good night to the kids before she puts them to bed.”

  He took off toward the apartment at a jog. “Thanks for the beer Jordan. I gotta talk to my kids before they go to sleep.”

  Nick hollered after him, “Be sure to remind Sheryl how much better off she would’ve been if she’d married me.”

  “Yeah right. Like she doesn’t know how lucky she is to have yours truly. You gotta watch this guy, Jordan. He’s a major player,” Ben yelled over his shoulder. “He has a long track record of conquests.”

  “Shut up, Ben.” He didn’t need a reminder of his past. But unfortunately, he couldn’t argue with the assessment. He looked head-on at Jordan who was simply smiling at their banter. “Don’t pay him any mind. Ben’s always been high maintenance.”

  She didn’t doubt Ben’s comment. She might be a widow who hadn’t dated in years, living on the outskirts of a tiny town, but she’d grown up in San Francisco and was hardly naive. With Nick’s good looks, combined with his own admission he’d avoided any emotional attachments like the plague, she didn’t doubt the major player label. But instead of following that tack, she asked about Ben. “He seems like a good father, calling to talk to his kids before they go to bed and all. How long’s he been married?”

  “Hmm, let’s see, a little more than six ye
ars I guess. He was the first one of us to take the plunge.” Had it been that long? It seemed like another lifetime ago, a time when things had been a whole lot simpler and life had been easier.

  “The plunge? You mean that dreaded trip down the aisle of wedded bliss?”

  He laughed. “Something like that. Marriage might be great for most guys but…”

  “It’s not for you.”

  “No, not me,” he said emphatically, draining his beer.

  Watching two good-looking men perform physical labor had its benefits. Over the next couple of days no one enjoyed Nick and Ben’s playful nature and wicked sense of humor more than Jordan. The two worked together like a well-oiled machine. They installed conduit, ran wiring, put in a new breaker box, and replaced old, outdated connectors. When the electricity had to be turned off for the work to be completed, Jordan coordinated the cooking and baking with Ben, who promised they’d all get to take hot showers right on schedule.

  Despite Jordan’s pleading, Ben had opted to sleep on Nick’s old green couch, not in the soft bed in one of the guest rooms. Why, she couldn’t say for certain, only that she thought it had something to do with keeping her reputation sterling as a young widow with a baby who lived alone and away from town. Little did both men know there wasn’t a thing they could really do to prevent the town from talking about her anyway, nor from the ugly rumors she was certain Sissy delighted in spreading.

  Jordan had tried to reason with both men. There was no one around to know what exactly she did out here miles away from anyone. And as proprietor of a bed and breakfast there was every chance a single man would happen along one day in the very near future and want a room in her coastal B & B. The fact that she would eagerly take money from a male guest, a stranger, had neither man changing his mind. Nor did they give an inch. Even though she thought their stance rather silly, it was also very sweet. Both men seemed to genuinely care about her well-being.

  The first night on the sofa, Ben had gone to bed around ten-thirty. He’d been fast asleep when around two o’clock, he’d heard a noise. Sitting straight up, it had taken him several minutes to realize where he was. He heard groaning. It took him a few more minutes to realize the noise was coming from somewhere behind him. The only thing behind him was Nick’s bed, so he swung his legs to the side and caught movement to his left. Standing up in nothing but his briefs, he caught a glimpse of Nick just in time to see him run into the bathroom. The door slammed shut and Ben heard retching. He stood where he was until the door opened again. “You okay, Nick?”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

  “You wanna talk about it.”

  “No.”

  And that had been the end of that. Nick had refused to talk to him. And like any buddy, Ben let it go.

  When the alarm sounded at six the next morning Nick hadn’t said another word and neither had Ben, even though he knew Nick had been unable to get back to sleep. The way Ben saw it, they didn’t really need to talk. Ben had been there the day Scott died, and knew exactly what had happened. He’d been riding in the Humvee just ahead of theirs and knew it could have easily been him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Nick felt guilty about surviving. But for the life of him, Ben had no idea why. He didn’t understand it. But then, PTSD didn’t have to make sense. That’s why Nick was here in Pelican Pointe helping Scott’s wife. Ben had no doubt, if he’d been the one who hadn’t made it back, Nick would have been there for Sheryl and his kids. And that thought tumbled into something else. Was Nick falling for Scott’s widow? Was it possible Nick Harris could change his ways and settle down here in the boonies with a woman like Jordan? Ben shook his head. The idea was ludicrous. The Nick Harris he knew would never in a million years be able to give up his fast track life in L.A. for this backwater existence no matter the woman.

  Feeling more settled about that, Ben got up and got dressed, intending to take full advantage of the surf while he was here.

  The two-day job actually took three but went by in record time. Before Jordan knew what was happening, Ben had packed up his tools and his truck and was heading back home to his family. Jordan had given him at least a dozen recipes she’d written down for Sheryl. He’d also made reservations for a couple of days in June to bring his wife back to spend several days at The Cove surfing and fishing.

  What Jordan didn’t know was that long before he’d ever reached the interstate to head back to San Jose, Ben had torn up the check she’d written him for two thousand dollars. Hell, he’d even torn up Nick’s.

  It was the least he could do for Scott’s widow.

  A couple of hours after Ben left, Nick disappeared in the SUV telling Jordan he had a couple of errands to run. He’d been gone about fifteen minutes when Jordan looked out the window and saw Lilly’s Ford Escort lumbering up the driveway. She picked up Hutton and went out to greet her guests.

  Lilly emerged from the front seat and immediately started unbuckling car seats. She plopped Kyra down first and then Joey before turning around to look shyly at Jordan.

  Jordan noted Lilly had washed her hair. In the sunshine it had a nice sheen to it. She’d put on clean jeans and worn a crisp white cotton blouse. The difference in appearance made the woman look years younger. And the kids were just as clean. Jordan brushed a hand over Kyra’s head and said, “I wasn’t sure you were coming.”

  “I got a late start. Joey took a longer nap than usual. I would’ve called, but I don’t have a phone in the trailer. Sorry about having to cancel last week, but the kids had colds, didn’t want Hutton getting sick.”

  Jordan paused at the knowledge. The woman had no phone living out in the country away from town with two little kids. She wondered what would happen if Lilly had an emergency. Jordan sent up a silent prayer that Lilly would never have to find out.

  “How about we go inside for some chocolate cake and milk?” That offer got everyone drifting toward the porch and then inside.

  The minute she stepped into the foyer, Lilly smelled the paint and looked around. “Wow, you are fixing this old place up. It looks great by the way. And to think you live in this big old house by yourself.” Compared to the small trailer the place was a mansion. She couldn’t imagine living here.

  “It’s a work in progress. And very shortly, I’ll be having a houseful of paying guests,” Jordan reminded her as she led them into the kitchen.

  “It’ll make a nice bed and breakfast. Will you need any help out here when you open up? Maybe like a maid or some other kind of helper? I’m pretty good at making beds and doing laundry. Or, I could wash dishes, help out that way.”

  “Thanks Lilly, that’s an idea. You know, I actually have no idea what I’ll need once the place opens. I’m doing this by the seat of my pants. Some days I feel totally out of my element.”

  “You?” It was hard to believe this woman couldn’t handle anything, or any problem. “You look so put together so—cool.”

  “Thanks, but that isn’t the case.” Jordan put Hutton down on the floor while she pulled out plates and glasses from the cabinet. She cut slices of cake, found an extra sippy cup for Joey, and poured milk for the kids. “In fact, I’m anything but cool. Would you like coffee instead of milk?”

  “That sounds good.” Distracted, Lilly chewed on the inside of her jaw until she said, “Jordan can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Aren’t you lonely living out here by yourself ?”

  She turned and stared at the younger woman for a long time. Tears brimmed her eyes. “Oh, Lilly, you have no idea.” Over cake, Jordan unburdened the facts about her life for the past two years right up until Nick had appeared out of the blue. And from there the two women settled in like old friends and chatted in spite of the boisterous play of the kids. Jordan discovered Lilly was originally from Monterey where she’d graduated high school with the dream of becoming a design artist. Lilly recalled how she’d met her husband at seventeen and how she’d been so incredibl
y young and stupid to think he was the answer to her dreams. He’d been a charmer right up to the night of the wedding when he’d gotten drunk and beat her senseless. The sad thing was it hadn’t been for the first time.

  Jordan shivered at her own good fortune. And then remembered her good fortune had died in Iraq. Good fortune it seemed could take a major turn downward very quickly.

  The staggering news was that while Lilly had two children and in less than a month would be a divorcée, she was only twenty-three years old.

  “Looks like we’ve both had some rough times,” Lilly offered quietly, as she tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

  As bad as things were for her, Jordan realized Lilly had it worse. After all, she had a family back in San Francisco who’d been her support system. After Hutton’s birth they had been there for her as she waited for Scott’s return. They’d begged her to stay in San Francisco and wait with them. But hoping to make Scott’s dream come true, she’d stubbornly packed up the baby and come home to Pelican Pointe. After getting word of Scott’s death, her family had once again tried to talk her into packing up everything and moving back in with them. But again, she’d tried to hold steadfast to Scott’s dream—and single-handedly make it a reality. She smiled at Lilly. “You know, I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s because I’ve just poured out my whole life story, but I feel better.”

  Lilly laughed. “Well, that makes two of us. I haven’t had anyone to talk to since I came back here. I don’t confide too much in my stepdad. He’s an ornery cuss. And I’m afraid to confide too much in the social worker for fear she might tell everyone in town my personal problems. She knows too much as it is. It seems the town has decided not to like me.”

 

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