He parked at the office and hurried in to begin his own workday.
“Hi, boss,” Trudy greeted him.
He signed the items she had waiting before catching sight of a pregnancy magazine sticking out from under her purse.
Trudy’s gaze followed his, and she cleared her throat nervously. “Yes,” she confessed. “I’m finally having a baby at the ripe old age of thirty-seven.”
He almost let out an agonized “how can you do this to me,” but restrained himself. Jamie had suggested he’d be grumpier than usual after spending nights at the trailer, also describing his management style as grizzly-bear heavy-handed. It had offended him and he’d dismissed it at the time, but now it hit him that lately he had been like a bear with a sore paw.
Trudy was watching him, her posture defensive.
“Congratulations,” he said, swallowing his dismay. “You and Rick must be excited.”
Trudy relaxed. “Thanks. We’re pretty over the moon. We’d given up hoping, but coming here seemed to make the difference. Don’t worry. I plan to stay through to my ninth month and I’ll have someone fully trained for the period I’m out. I’ll be back. I want a career and to be a mom.”
“That’s great,” he attempted to say in a natural voice. He escaped to his office and groaned.
So, Trudy was going to have a baby.
It wasn’t the end of the world. There were other office managers who were efficient, though he’d appreciated working with Trudy Lopez more than anyone else he could remember. In practice she functioned as his second in command and...he should consider redefining her position and pay scale to assistant manager. Not that there was much point in doing it now.
She may have said she planned to come back, but he couldn’t count on it. More than one of his employees had chosen full-time parenting over a job. It was a choice he’d respected, disappointing as it had been sometimes to lose a good worker.
To make things worse, when he opened his email he saw several notes from his mother that he’d missed reading. He scanned them—she wanted to know what was going on with her two sons.
Zack tapped out a reply. He was fine. The resort was doing well and was frequently filled to near capacity. No, he hadn’t resolved the issue with the fruit stand yet, but was sure it wouldn’t be a problem. Most important, Brad appeared to be gaining in strength and was walking a lot.
Zack reviewed the phrases he’d typed—they were terse and his mother might try to read between the lines to find a hidden meaning.
On the other hand, she always tried to read between the lines, and he didn’t have the oomph to tinker with his language.
He finished by signing, “Love, Zack,” and hit the send button.
Months ago he’d asked Trudy to handle some of the status reports to his mother. She’d given him a what-planet-are-you-from look and told him that mothers didn’t deserve to be staffed out. She was right, of course.
God, he was bushed, and spending nights with Jamie at the trailer didn’t help. Hiring someone to go in his place was an option, but it didn’t seem right.
He put his head against his leather executive’s chair. It wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes for a while.
* * *
A KNOCK AT the door took Brad away from the breakfast he’d assembled from bits and pieces in Zack’s kitchen. His brother didn’t cook much. He relied on the Clam Shell or Sunfish Grotto for most of his meals.
Brad answered and saw it was one of the resort employees.
“Mr. Brad Denning?”
“That’s me.”
“A guest asked me to deliver a note to you.”
“Uh, thanks. Let me...” He groped in his pocket for a tip, but the employee stepped backward.
“The guest was quite generous, sir. Have a good day.”
Brad sat at the table and took the note from the Mar Vista stationery envelope.
Brad, just arrived for another weekend. Any chance we can get together? Kim.
Odd.
Prior to flying in to meet with Jamie Conroe, Zack said Kim had visited once, for Mar Vista’s official opening. Yet now that Zack’s legal needs were decreasing, she was visiting more often. Why? She was beautiful and talented with her own successful law firm, so it was hard to believe that a minivacation at Mar Vista was the sole reason, especially as she was coming to this particular resort.
Back when she and Zack had been a couple, Kim was the one who ended the relationship. Maybe she was rethinking her old decision and hoping Zack was ready to settle down now that he’d accomplished the goal he’d worked toward for so long.
Brad hadn’t detected any romantic feelings for Zack on Kim’s part, but he was better at spotting enemy patrols than amorous intentions. The biggest question was his brother’s interest in Jamie Conroe—the woman knew how to punch Zack’s buttons in a way Brad hadn’t seen before. Not that he and Zack had spent much time together in the past ten years, but they’d regularly corresponded by email and there’d never been a hint of a woman who rattled Zack the way Jamie did.
So, what did his brother feel for Jamie?
Zack had vehemently insisted on taking over sentry duty at the trailer, his ego prodded by the idea that employees from the resort might be involved with the vandalism. Brad also suspected it was partly to keep him from a potential hazard...which was hardly necessary. Injured or not, his training as a marine would beat out Zack easily. Yet was there another reason Zack wanted to go? Lust?
Brad deliberately focused on his eggs, rather than Kim. The situation bothered him. He liked Jamie, but he’d hate for Kim to be disappointed by his brother again.
* * *
ON FRIDAY JAMIE’S energy flagged more than ever from the lack of sleep, but coffee and willpower kept her going. In a midday lull she contemplated another night in the trailer with Zack Denning. It was bad enough to spend the hours listening for possible intruders—spending them confined with Zack in a small space was worse. If only she could convince him not to come.
Inspiration struck and a surge of adrenaline shot through her. Jamie snatched her BlackBerry and a slip of paper where Zack had written his cell number. Quickly she typed a message. Thx 4 coming but tired & think it’s over so won’t go 2nite. For good measure she sent the same note to Brad’s cell phone. It was a harmless white lie. Besides, the vandalism likely wasn’t linked to Mar Vista, so it wasn’t Zack’s problem.
Since she’d opened the stand for the summer, she had seen a steady increase in the number of customers who came shortly after 3:00 p.m.—Mar Vista employees getting off their shift. It was something different from Granddad’s experiences, and she was learning to adjust how she stocked the stand. But it was uncomfortable because she couldn’t help overhearing their conversations about Mar Vista. One woman was particularly vocal whenever she came, and was even more fervent that afternoon.
“I’m surprised Mr. Denning doesn’t check every table in the restaurant after we’ve set it,” she griped. “So he can be sure we got the folds in his precious napkins right. One of these days we’ll see him out there with a ruler, measuring how far the plate is from the edge and if the silverware is aligned in a precise ninety-degree angle.”
“The pay is decent,” her companion offered.
“Sure, but we’ll never get into management.”
“Why not?” Jamie said without thinking, then kicked herself. It wasn’t her concern and she didn’t want to get drawn into Zack’s business.
“Mar Vista management always comes from outside the area,” the second woman explained. “When they replaced the maintenance supervisor, they went clear to Atlanta, Georgia.”
“Oh.”
Jamie didn’t know what to say, so decided it was safest to say nothing. “Did you want anything else?” she asked instead.
“No, this i
s it for today.”
There were several more customers before Jamie closed. She wanted to get back while it was light, and had barely enough time to deposit the receipts and return with a sack of food. Admittedly, she was a bit nervous about being there alone, but she refused to give in to fear. She’d lock the trailer door and could contact the authorities on her cell phone if someone showed up. In any case, she was keeping a low profile, so nobody would know she was there; she’d parked even farther away, behind a grove of trees.
She pulled out the sandwich she’d made at the house and sat at the table to work on jewelry ideas. Lately her imagination had been running wild with concepts that ranged from natural subjects to fantasy figures. One gallery had advised her to specialize in a single motif, such as the ocean. But Jamie didn’t want to be limited; she’d rather be identified by the quality of her designs and execution.
It wasn’t quite dark when tires crunched quietly past the trailer. She frowned. A vandal wouldn’t come so early. A few minutes later, there was a soft rap on the door; she held her breath and stayed absolutely still. Zack was being anal, double-checking to make sure she hadn’t come to the trailer. Couldn’t the guy accept a text message as final?
“Jamie Conroe,” a voice said outside. “I’m not leaving, so if you want pictures of destructive scumbags doing their thing tonight, let me in.”
She waited mutely, only to hear loud music begin to play. “I’ll have to amuse myself,” he called. “Ella Fitzgerald is my favorite.”
Jamie lunged to the door and jerked it open. “Turn it off,” she ordered. “I’m supposed to be undercover.”
His grin was triumphant. “I knew that would work, though I hate to stifle Ella.”
“Brother,” she exclaimed. “Why are you here? I sent you a text.”
“Yeah, but it’s strange,” he answered. “I could swear your message said you weren’t coming to the trailer, yet here you are.”
“I was being polite,” she countered. “This isn’t your problem and I don’t need a man to take care of me.” She stomped to her seat and swept the drawings into her portfolio.
Zack eyed her sandwich lying on a napkin. “Is that your dinner?”
“I haven’t had a chance to go shopping since this started. It’ll be fine and you can have half.”
He raised a hand. From his forefinger dangled a bag. “I’ve got sandwiches, too. Grilled garlic chicken with portobello mushrooms and Gordon’s wine and Fontina cheese sauce, on freshly baked sourdough rolls. Are you sure you prefer a slice of lunch meat slapped between two dry heels of bread?”
The scents emanating from the bag were tantalizing, and Zack looked at her with the same challenge she’d employed when offering him strawberries. The glint in his eyes was lazy and sexy and made her gulp.
“Sounds appetizing,” she said.
He handed her a paper box, and inside she found a crusty roll piled thick with chicken. Portobello mushrooms stuck out from the edges and a drip of sauce hung ready to drop, so Jamie gave it a swipe. Zack stared as she licked her finger, and she felt like saying she hadn’t meant anything provocative, but kept her mouth shut. It was safer.
Jamie set out a plastic container of strawberries after they’d eaten the sandwiches, and Zack smiled faintly as he swallowed a juicy berry. Unwilling to work on her designs with him nearby, she doodled until he suggested another round of Scrabble.
They set up the board and Jamie tried to form words from the letters she’d drawn, yet playing a game with Zack was almost as tense as ignoring him. It was crazy to let him disturb her this way. At most he wanted a quick tumble under the sheets. She wasn’t his type and she was glad of it, no matter how attractive he might be. And it wasn’t as if sex was that important; with her ex-husband it had been second-rate at best, so she didn’t miss it any more than she missed the rest of her marriage.
If only she could stop remembering Zack’s kiss on the sand dune. However brief, it had...curled her toes.
Jamie gazed at the Scrabble board without really seeing it. She had to get hold of herself. Even if Zack denied it, he must wonder if an intimate association could help him get rid of the produce stand. He was wrong. Nothing could make her sell, especially to a man wanting to build exclusive guest rooms over the soil where her grandparents had met and courted. Granddad had trusted her to take care of the land, or he wouldn’t have left it to her.
Zack took the first watch, so she climbed into the bunk at midnight and closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t interest her. Questions ran wildly through her head, such as did Zack do certain other things as well as he kissed?
After a couple of hours she pretended to wake up so he could get some rest. Maybe he wasn’t fooled, but he didn’t say anything as he lay on the narrow mattress and turned his face away.
Jamie leaned against the wall and concentrated on the sounds outside the trailer. Ocean waves murmured; a gentle breeze rippled the canvas awning; an owl hooted in the distance. But then she bolted upright at a soft pattering on the roof. Zack sat up, too.
“I think it’s a raccoon,” she said.
Zack yawned and settled back. “We have to be careful at the resort. We’ve put springs on all the doors so they shut automatically and even installed special screens on guest patio doors and balconies so someone can’t accidentally leave them ajar, allowing little bandits to explore the rooms.”
“Has anyone blocked the screen and let one in anyway?”
“Yup.” His voice was sleepy. “We give discreet warnings, but one guest thought it would be entertaining to get a video of raccoons in their room. His wife nearly sued for divorce on the spot. The raccoons peed on her designer silk scarf and made off with a five-carat diamond pendant. And I hesitate to say what they did to her Prada shoes and purse.”
His gravelly laugh did peculiar things to Jamie’s stomach and she reminded herself it was the enforced intimacy that was boosting her awareness. As a counterbalance she pictured an evening with Tim, then stopped cold. She’d rather deal with unsettled nerves than rehash the dead past.
They traded watches at 3:00 a.m., and she woke two hours later to see Zack crawling into his bunk. Since it was light outside, there was no point in staying awake, so she dropped asleep again.
Jamie’s eyes were gritty when she finally dragged herself out of bed, and she scowled when Zack greeted her cheerfully. She poured two cups of coffee from her thermos, thinking that for someone who’d claimed he wasn’t a morning person, Zack was in a mighty good mood.
“I’ve got an idea,” he announced.
“Then don’t let it get stale,” she grumbled as he drank from the steaming mug.
“Lord, this is tasty,” he said appreciatively.
“Granddad’s recipe. So what’s your big idea?”
“You should come to dinner tonight at the resort.”
Jamie choked and coffee sprayed onto the table. “That’s your brilliant plan? Correct me if I’m mistaken, but didn’t we already run that one over with a golf cart and beat it to death with a club?”
He handed her a paper towel. “The way I see things, it’s incredibly unlikely that my people are involved. But either way, if we’re seen eating together it will demonstrate solidarity.”
Oh, great. More time with Zack. Yet as much as it hurt to admit, his idea had merit. Jamie nodded slowly as she mopped up the spilled coffee.
“Excellent,” he said. “But you might try keeping your temper in check so people are convinced we’re friends.”
“What? You’ve got a lot of nerve implying I’m a powder keg ready to ignite. You’re the one who roared in here the first day with a full head of steam.”
“You were... I thought you were trespassing.”
“So if you make a stupid assumption, acting like an overbearing, uptight jackass is justified?”
&nbs
p; “Uptight is a matter of opinion.” He put on his shoes and jacket before going to the door, throwing a parting shot over his shoulder. “And I am picking you up at your house, to enhance the show of friendship. I’ll be there at six.”
She would’ve followed him out and continued the argument, except she heard a truck arriving with one of her deliveries. Probably Burt Friesen; he was always first. Rushing to put on her shoes, she stepped out to see Zack drive by with a friendly wave as though they were best buddies.
“Morning, Jamie,” Burt said. “Wasn’t that the owner of Mar Vista?”
“That’s him,” she murmured as Burt lifted boxes from his pickup. “He came by and we had a cup of coffee.” Which was the truth—just not the complete story.
“I heard he was upset that you’d set up business here, so I guess it’s not an issue anymore.”
Jamie did her best to smile. “We’ve worked it out.”
“That’s nice. We all need good neighbors.”
Good neighbors. That was a joke. Zack Denning was a pain in her neck along with a few other places, and she didn’t know what to do about it.
* * *
ZACK DROVE A section of his normal daily-inspection route and then headed to the office. His energy was running high—the argument with Jamie had put him on his toes. However tired and grouchy, her wit was unimpaired. All the same, it seemed as if everything was a battle with her. Of course, he could have been more tactful, but triggering her temper was fun.
He found Kim at the tennis courts, zipping her racket into a protective sleeve. There was a faint sheen of perspiration on her forehead and the glow of a vigorous workout, but no sign of a play partner.
She waved. “Hey, Zack.”
“Don’t tell me you were practicing against the backboard. I doubt Brad is up to a round of tennis.” Even as Zack said it, he hoped his brother hadn’t tried to keep up with Kim. Brad was closemouthed regarding his condition, but his persistent limp told Zack enough.
“The tennis coach just left. Is there anything you don’t provide at Mar Vista?”
Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She GoesA Promise for the BabyThat Summer at the Shore Page 66