Lakeshore Legend: The McAdams Series (By The Lake Series Book 2)

by Leah, Shannyn

  Lakeshore Legend

  The McAdams Sisters

  Book Two, Peyton McAdams

  By The Lake Series

  Shannyn Leah

  Copyright © 2015 by Shannyn Leah

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or transmitted by any electronic or mechanical means including information, storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Shannyn Leah

  www.ShannynLeah.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter One

  Peyton McAdams stared around the white sheer curtains hung across the window of the newest−soon to be open−business in Willow Valley: The Old Town Soap Co.

  Only months earlier she’d moved back to her hometown where she’d been born and raised. Her and her three sisters were planning a huge grand opening for the first of March...less than two weeks away.

  After hiring a contractor to completely gut and refinish the inside, the store was transformed into a quaint old-fashioned soap shop front with a manufacturing area in the back. They had been working months hand making their products.

  Owning her very own business was Peyton’s lifelong dream come true and she was thrilled to have the opportunity to be in business with her sister’s.

  She’d roped her twin sister Kate in almost instantly after conjuring up the idea. But, it was their youngest sister Abby, belonging to a second set of twins in the family, who was the brains behind the recipes. Before the idea to open the shop had even transpired, Abby had been making and selling soap with their grandmother (whom they all referred to as Gran) out of her house just behind the shop. Abby had created an excellent clientele, so good she couldn’t keep ahead of the orders.

  After Gran passed away, and left them the disaster of the empty building, Peyton had been inspired by her sister’s side job and envisioned it on a much larger scale. Supply and demand was their goal, plus an increase in selection available in the shop rather than the few products out of Abby’s tiny little cottage size house.

  Peyton pulled the curtain back just enough now to glance down the main street and watch the morning crowds. They parked diagonally across the street and jumped out of their vehicles dressed for the cold February morning, knit being a staple for everyone. Knitted hats, knitted scarves and knitted mittens flocked the snowy trampled beach like colorful seagulls celebrating Family Day.

  Peyton touched the fusia pink knitted hat on her own head. She was going to blend right in. Perfect. Blending in was her goal this weekend to avoid bumping into him.

  Of course, like most events in Willow Valley, the town went all out. Instead of simply having events on Monday, Family Day holiday, they were kicking off Saturday morning right through to Monday afternoon with activities town-wide. There were lists posted throughout the town and available at local businesses with a three day schedule of horse drawn sleigh rides, scavenger hunts, bon fires on the snow covered beach, an ice maze, ice sculptures...the list went on and on.

  Peyton’s attention was snagged by the outdoor ice rink constructed by the town and maintained each winter along the shoreline down a distance from her shop. Typically, all winter families spent time on the rink before finishing with hot cocoa and popcorn in the beach house; an octagon wood and glass heated structure built by the town for hosting events. However, today before they made it that far the people were engaged in a long line up beside the rink where he was signing autographs.

  This was ridiculous. How long had she stood there just staring at the distant figure, she could hardly make out, envisioning his amazing sculpted sports body naked...naked...naked. Ridiculous didn’t even begin to sum up her behaviour.

  Was she hiding from him? Maybe, but she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he was going to see her and forget that he was the most popular man on the beach to say, “Hey Peyton, I’ve been meaning to call you...” And he certainly wasn’t going to search her out as though he had missed her. Because he hadn’t meant to call her and he certainly hadn’t missed her.

  Then why are you hiding? And why was he so damn popular? Yeah, so he’d been playing pro hockey for the last five, six or ten plus years...whatever, big deal. Okay, it was sort of a huge deal...if you were a fan. Or if you were a town business owner trying to make a buck off his fame, which soon she would fall into that category whether she wanted to make a buck off him or not.

  Did the whole damn town forget during the last season of his career he’d been suspended just under a dozen times, or his speeding car crash and not to mention the bar fight he’d been involved in? That was the only reason he was here signing autographs. His autograph. Were the people of this town so star struck they didn’t remember that tiny detail? Bar fight...arrested...charged...hello!

  She wondered if he was giving them that drop-dead gorgeous smile or that serious flip-you-off-your-feet stare. Probably both, it just depended who he was talking to and what mood he was in.

  He was a charmer. He’d been a charmer before he left and he had been a charmer when he’d returned. And he’d charmed the pants right off of Peyton...literally. It wasn’t one of Peyton’s proudest moments. A very memorable one. But not the proudest. Even his name was charming, sexy and slipped off the tongue with ease...Colt...mmm...ugh!

  That was the reason Peyton was cowering away waiting for him to abandon his obligation so she could comfortably enjoy the Saturday she had planned long before he decided to show up. And he would abandon his post because he was selfish. She was surprised he was even taking the time out when there wasn’t anything in it for him. She’d looked up what he made each season and his bank account had to be deep into the eight digit numbers. He could easily be vacationing permanently in Italy or Paris, maybe not now with assault charges hanging over his head, but that was his own damn fault.

  Lunch hour was quickly creeping up on her like the panicking feeling in her chest and the rest of her family would soon be gathering on the snow covered beach for a bite to eat together before a tour of the events.

  I could cancel. There were still lots sh
e had to do in the shop, including finishing the big red formula book. Abby might be the brains behind the recipes but the girl hadn’t quite mastered penmanship and Peyton was playing a game of Sudoku trying to make each out and line them up correctly. Fake work pile up was her plan to escape lunch and any chance of a run-in with Colt Patterson.

  Peyton shied away from the door whenever a person passing by paused to gander in with curiosity at the gorgeously designed window displays. She hadn’t been ready for the body that materialized swiftly in front of her accompanied by a loud holler. The visual scared a scream out of Peyton and she dropped the curtain and jumped back grabbing her chest.

  She could hear her Kate’s laughter through the glass. Her sister popped her head in the door with a satisfied look across her porcelain face. The cold winter had given her pinched cherry cheeks to match her painted red lips. “What are you doing?” she asked playing innocent, her flawlessly manicured eyebrows arching and hiding behind the rim of her red hat.

  Peyton glared. “Me?” she practically yelled at her. “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”

  Kate laughed slipping into the shop and rubbing her leather covered hands together. “Warming up. It’s freezing out there.” As usual, Kate was dressed in her sophisticated attire. Today a turquoise Pashmina scarf tied in a perfect knot above her dark grey wool jacket just above the knees of black wide brimmed pants that swished over her heeled black boots. She tapped the tips of her boots on the wood planks as she danced the warmth back through her body.

  Although the same age, Peyton dressed less formal than her sister and more modern chic; she enjoyed staying up on fashion. When flare jeans were in−she wore flares, when bootleg came around−she slid into them and now that skinnies were all-the rave she had a closet full plus a great selection of chiffon patterned blouses.

  “Is Dad here?” Kate glanced around quickly.

  Peyton shook her head. “Just me, but barely. Are you trying to scare me to death?”

  “You looked like a peeping tom.”

  “I was checking out the events from the warmth of the shop.” Liar.

  Kate scuffed the snow from her boots onto the floor mat before walking through the off-white painted room. They had chosen a nice neutral colour and added accenting antique wood cupboards and bookcases displaying the natural soaps, lotions, cream and everything one needed to line their bathroom cupboards with.

  Kate stopped by the large curved antique library counter and leaned against it. “You were peeking when we drove past.” She dusted some fallen snow off her jacket. “And still hanging out after we grabbed coffee and croissants at Mrs. Calvert’s...” That was the bakery next door and had the most delicious homemade baked bread. Peyton’s tummy growled just thinking about it glazed with butter and honey. Maybe if she ditched her family she would scoot by there for lunch. “And you’re still here, staring out the window like you’re waiting for your Prince Charming.”

  Prince Charming...that was a name she didn’t relate with Colt.

  Peyton over-exaggerated a roll of her eyes and joined Kate on the opposite side of the counter. She grabbed the file, aka the escape plan opening Abby’s scribbled notes. “Do you see this?”

  Kate turned and leaned her arms on the counter, slowly spreading some of the pages out. “Quite the artist,” she observed, admiring Abby’s pen doodles instead of the written catastrophe. They were everywhere, little well-detailed pictures in the corners, in the middle, on the bottom, sometimes one, sometimes two...Abby was easily distracted.

  “Speaking of which.” Kate stood and shut the folder proceeded with a little push and slid it down the seven-foot counter.

  Peyton held her breath until it safely stopped at the end without spilling open like flower petals in the wind and landing every which way on the floor. She could strangle her sister. She’d already spent hours sorting some of the recipes out.

  “What are you doing in here? This weekend is a ‘no work weekend’ remember?”

  That was a dumb rule made up by her sister’s who thought there was nothing left to do until the rest of the ingredients came in for the bath bombs yet to be created. They really had no idea the work Peyton was putting in day and night. They just moseyed their little selves over whenever she had recipes to be made or a shop to decorate, and that was the extent of their work load. Naive fools.

  “Pretending not to work,” Peyton said swiftly moving to the end of the counter and slipping the file safely underneath and away from her sister’s destructive hands.

  “Dad said he was grabbing my old hockey stick for Rosemary. You know that little mini stick one? He’s still not here so do you want to go over to Dad’s with me and get it?”

  That was a much better plan than standing here like a peeping tom. “Sure, I’ll drive.”

  Peyton’s Escape was behind the shop in one of their designated spots.

  They pulled into the driveway of their small beige-sided childhood home in less than five minutes. Like the rest of the town, most of the houses looked like picturesque cottages from paintings any season of the year. The residences maintained that look with wood fences, stone walkways and colourful flower beds. Willow Valley was a charming town to live in. Even the older sections like the street her dad lived on had character that made it unique and beautiful. The newly developed area alongside the lake housed million dollar properties that only people like Colt Patterson could afford to buy.

  Peyton parked right behind her dad’s older truck.

  “He’s home,” Peyton pointed out the obvious.

  Peyton was currently staking out residency in her old bedroom until the shop was up and running and solid paycheques started flowing. She had rented condos in the city and could have easily found a little place to rent in town but when her dad welcomed her home to the four bedroom house she hadn’t argued. Instead she completely revamped her old room and took “winter cleaning” into her own hands.

  “Have you seen the stick?” Kate asked following her to the back door, the one they had been accustomed to using since they were young. Before their mom had passed away, when they were much younger, she’d detested them dragging dirt and mud into the front door of the house. Direct orders to use the entrance through the back mud room came into effect saving her floors. Five kids running around made quite a mess. The rule stuck.

  “Maybe in the laundry room cupboard. Above the washer and dryer with the hats and mitts,” Peyton said catching a glance of herself in the hallway mirror. She pulled the hat off, fluffed her long brown waves, put it back on, slanted her head, puckered her pink lips, and then realized why she was re-checking herself. Colt.

  Ugh. There were countless other women in town doing the exact same thing and it irritated her that she was among them...unconsciously, of course. She waved at the mirror as if dismissing it before walking into the kitchen where Kate had become side-tracked by a now unwrapped plate of cookies.

  “Who made these? They are delicious.”

  Peyton shrugged. They weren’t there this morning. “Don’t know. Maybe Dad got them in town at a bake sale before he came to look for your mini stick.”

  “Oh yeah.” Kate replaced the plastic. “The laundry room right? Thanks.” Kate bee-lined from the kitchen and down the hall.

  “Don’t make a mess,” Peyton called.

  Kate turned amidst her walk and crossed her heart with her fingers. “We are in a hurry and everyone’s waiting but I promise not to make a mess.” It didn’t sound sincere and Peyton envisioned her sister dragging all the boxes down and digging through them, mixing them all up and setting her cleaning back a step.

  “Wait!” She caught up to her down the hall where three doors were closed. The end door was her father’s master bedroom, the right door was the downstairs bathroom−which she’d been avoiding for over a month−and the laundry room was across. “I will just show you.”

  “I can manage.” But she smirked her glossy lips deceptively.

  Peyton
didn’t believe her and wiggled in front. “I don’t trust you and I’ve been spending hours de-cluttering for Dad.”

  “I’m insulted. For years I kept this house in check. You weren’t a molly maid back in the day.” It was true, Peyton enjoyed actually hanging out and living not playing mommy like Kate had done raising their younger siblings for so many years. In reality Kate had been a blessing to this family and Peyton would never forget her sacrifices...or forget how unreliable she herself had been.

  “More like ‘see spot run’...” Kate continued but the last word was cut short when Peyton pushed the door open and the image that unfolded before them burned their innocent eyes like red-hot prods.

  Peyton and Kate both gasped loudly in horror.

  Elaine Patterson, the next door neighbour probably in her late fifties screamed in surprise. At least Peyton hoped it was surprise and not the alternative. Sitting on the dryer she tucked her head in an attempt to hide her face into Kent McAdams−their father’s−far shoulder. He grabbed a clean towel that Peyton had just laundered to cover her naked body pressed up against his naked body and there was flesh everywhere and heavy breathing and nakedness...everywhere. There was no escaping it no matter which way Peyton’s eyes flew.

  It felt like forever but doubtless lasted only seconds. Peyton turned, colliding into her sister whose eyes were also darting in every direction horrified. They both stumbled backwards awkwardly into the hallway with their dad hollering at them to shut the door.

  Still against Kate and unsure how she managed to reach behind her she slammed the door shut.

  They stopped moving. Kate’s tight hands gripped Peyton’s shoulders and standing at the same height they stared at one another with open mouths and shocked expressions. Their dad was banging the neighbour in the laundry room. The laundry room Peyton used on a regular basis.

  They couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from them at the bombshell they’d walked in on.

  “We can hear you,” Kent yelled through the door.

  Immediately they stifled their laughter but couldn’t control the smiles across their faces. This was a child’s worst nightmare, walking in on that!