“No doubt a hot date,” Kay told Olivia. “Ah, what I wouldn’t give to be that age again.”
“If only.”
But in the kitchen, Kinsey faced another slew of questions from Jordan who wanted to know why she wasn’t dining in tonight. “Is it my food?” Jordan asked taking the time to assess her guest. “Wait a minute, do you have a date? Someone in town asked you out?”
“I don’t have a date,” Kinsey all but chanted it. “I have something I have to do. I’m sorry to ask for food to go, but I’m in kind of a hurry.”
Jordan studied the woman’s nervous demeanor. “I see that. You’re a guest here, Kinsey. You’re entitled to make a few demands now and then during your stay. Asking for a meal-to-go falls into that category we innkeepers call ‘providing for the whims of our guests.’” Jordan decided to lower the boom. “Murphy tells me he has a new cashier starting tomorrow morning.”
“Crap,” Kinsey stated flatly, rocking back on her heels. “Okay. Look. I need a second job. My finances are in dire straits. I’m stretched to the limit. As it turns out Hartley’s starting salary isn’t all that much.” Never again would she think she could dash in and dash out without having to provide what seemed like embarrassing tidbits about herself.
“Well, that just is not right,” Jordan exclaimed. “You moved all the way down here. He’s lucky to get you. Why didn’t you say something before now?”
“What was I supposed to say, I’m strapped for cash? What does that sound like to anyone in a new place that doesn’t really know you?” When she saw that sympathetic look on Jordan’s face, Kinsey almost wanted to come clean about the rest of it. But then what if she bombed tonight and Perry had to let her go? No, it was best to wait to tell anyone about her third job. Even if Jordan had been nice enough about throwing together a turkey wrap, it didn’t mean she should divulge anything about the night ahead. But with the next words out of Jordan’s mouth, Kinsey started to have second thoughts.
“Then I might have a solution to your housing problem.”
“Really? Like what?”
“I need to talk to Nick about it first though. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”
“What? Look, you’re already giving me a terrific discount. I couldn’t ask for more. I love this place but staying here past the end of the month isn’t an option even with a bargain rate. I need to find someplace affordable.”
“I understand. But it wouldn’t really be here exactly.”
Kinsey frowned. “I don’t understand.” She glanced at her watch, noted she needed to get moving. “Okay. Well, I’ve got to run. Maybe we can talk—tomorrow after you’ve discussed it with Nick. Thanks, Jordan, for everything.”
Kinsey grabbed the food sack Jordan handed her and took off for the stairs.
“Enjoy your evening,” Jordan muttered. But she was talking to Kinsey’s back as the woman zipped out of the room.
Thinking that she was home free, Kinsey darted up the steps only to get waylaid by Karen Fostwick. Karen wanted to chat about whether or not she could legally find out who was behind a fake social media profile stalking her new husband online. Karen was sure it was Cory’s old girlfriend.
It took Kinsey less than a minute to explain that Karen should contact the social media in question with her suspicions and if that didn’t work, she should go to the police to file a complaint.
Once Kinsey finally made it to her room, she tossed off her skirt and blouse and pulled out her little black dress. It took her five hurried minutes to put up her hair in a sophisticated twist but another five to dig out the spikey high heels from her crowded closet. Checking her image in the mirror, she added a pair of pearl drop earrings to each ear and stretched a single string of pearls around her neck. Grabbing the sack with her sandwich, she headed to her car.
As if fate had suddenly turned against her, Kinsey turned the key in the ignition and got a grinding noise for her trouble. She counted to thirty, tried again. This time all she got was a dreaded click, click, click. In defeat, she rested her head on the steering wheel.
“Car problems?”
She recognized that voice. Lifting her head, which was beginning to throb at the temple, she saw Logan Donnelly standing beside the Nissan. His brown hair stretched back tight in that familiar ponytail. “I pretty sure it’s a dead battery. Maybe you’d be good enough to, you know, give me a jump?”
Logan was pretty sure she didn’t mean the same thing he was thinking. “Pop the hood and I’ll take a look.”
“With one hand?”
“I’ll manage. If it’s your battery I’m sure Nick’s got a pair of jumper cables around here somewhere.”
“Great,” Kinsey muttered between clenched teeth as she reached down and grabbed the release for the hood. “I don’t have time for this.”
But Logan responded as if he had radar ears. “Must be some date you’ve got.”
Kinsey let his words go. She didn’t have the time or the inkling to set him straight. Instead she crawled out of the car, her open-toed heels clicking on the cement. Impatiently, she sucked in rapid breaths of cool, crisp ocean breeze. If she’d had the time she would’ve loved a long walk along the beach to calm her nerves. Indulgences like that weren’t on her schedule.
The minute she stepped closer, Logan caught her fragrance, some exotic mix of jasmine and vanilla that brought to mind sinking into satin sheets. He had to pull himself back to the situation to remember all the right wires to check. Inexplicably annoyed with her—yet again, Logan spit out, “This isn’t the first time you’ve had trouble starting the car, is it?”
“Well, no. But it usually starts even if it grinds if I’m patient enough and keep trying. Now it just clicks. The other day the dash flickered on and off a bit while I was driving. The lights dim sometimes for no reason. And I heard a whining sound just yesterday.” She lifted one silky shoulder. “But it’s a fourteen-year-old car. I’m sure it’s the battery. If you’ll just—”
“I don’t think so,” Logan interjected. “You’ll need it tested though to make sure. Personally, I think your alternator’s toast.”
“Crap.” She looked at her watch again for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes. “I’ve got to be at The Pointe by six-thirty. I hate to ask—”
Logan wiped his good hand on his jeans, dropped the hood back down with a slam. “No problem. Get in the truck. I’ll take you.”
“Really? Thanks. I’m in kind of a hurry.”
“I see that. You’re practically jumping out of your skin.” Logan couldn’t say why but he hated the guy who apparently hadn’t thought enough of her to drive out to pick her up. What kind of an asshole would do that?
Once they got on the road, conversation was almost nonexistent. They drove in strained silence bordering awkwardness. It got worse when she took out her sandwich from the sack and started to nibble on it.
Logan gave her a strange look. Finally his curiosity piqued, he asked, “Why are you eating a sandwich if you’re headed out to dinner? The Pointe’s a fancy place with all kinds of delicious food. Oh, wait, don’t tell me you’re one of those women who won’t eat in front a man for fear he’ll think less of you?”
Kinsey didn’t care for the derision she heard in the man’s voice. “Well, if you must know, I’m hungry. Besides, what do you care anyway?”
“I don’t,” he snapped. “But any woman who can’t be herself on a date isn’t being honest, fooling everyone around her, including the guy she’s dating.”
“Relationship advice from a man who just went through his own messy divorce? You’re unbelievable, you know that? Plus, you’re just a bit full of yourself. You don’t even seem to be able to let go of your own baggage.” She stuffed half of her uneaten sandwich back in the bag. Her appetite gone. “You know, I’m a nice person. But every time I get around you, you seem dead set on being an ass.”
“Maybe that’s because I am an ass.”
“You telegraph that, Donnelly. Look
, we have ten more minutes of forced time together, maybe more if you get pulled over by Dan Garver for speeding. The speed limit through here is fifty, by the way.”
Logan glanced at the speedometer, noted it read sixty-five. He eased off the gas.
“I vote we either not talk to each other the rest of the way, or we think of something civil to discuss.”
“Silence is fine by me.”
“I’m not surprised. Well, I for one vote civil conversation.”
“Miss Bubbly Personality would. Fine, pick a topic.”
“After being here a couple of days, how do you like the town so far?”
“Settling in. I’m sure you know how that feels.”
“I do. A new place takes some getting used to. It’s a little scary starting over. Do you feel that way?”
“It took me a while to make up my mind.” He wouldn’t admit to all the years he’d resisted coming back here. “But once I did, it’s the right move for me. So you like it here?”
“I’ve always wanted to live in a small town, so yes.”
“Small towns aren’t perfect. Remember that.”
“You act as though you’ve lived in one before now.”
That made him chuckle. “I grew up in Chastain, California. I think last I checked it had maybe a thousand people max.”
“But your online bio says San Francisco.”
It gave him a little kick to his ego to know she’d taken the time to look him up. “Started out there when I struck out on my own, went to design school there, but I didn’t stick around long enough to graduate. After San Fran I tried L.A. for a time.”
“What was Chastain like?”
“It had a nut processing plant.”
“A what?”
“They shelled walnuts, roasted almonds, that kind of thing. That was the town’s claim to fame.” He wasn’t certain what made him want to talk to her so candidly but the words seemed to roll off his tongue before he could stop them. “But my grandparents lived here.”
Kinsey’s mouth gaped open. “In Pelican Pointe?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know that.” In fact, not a single other soul in town had mentioned it to her. “So you’re a California native who has come back? Did you come here as a boy to visit your grandparents?”
“Oh yeah. Summers mostly. My parents liked to dump my sister and me in Pelican Pointe whenever they could under the guise of working on their marriage, which a miracle worker couldn’t have fixed.”
So he’d kept that little tidbit to himself, which made Kinsey wonder what else he was holding back. “Ah. So you already know the townspeople here?”
“Not at all. I was a kid last time I was here. Fifteen to be exact. I remember playing sandlot ball with Brent and Ethan Cody though whenever they’d come over from Santa Cruz to visit their grandmother. I think her name was a season. Autumn, that’s it. Autumn Lassiter.” The tone of his voice indicated it was anything but a rosy walk down memory lane. But just when she thought of a couple of other questions, by that time, Logan pulled the pickup next to the curb in front of the restaurant. “Here you go.” He tapped the clock on the dash. “With a few minutes to spare.”
She took a deep breath and opened the door. “Thanks. I really appreciate the ride, Donnelly.”
The door slammed and she was gone.
He sat there for a couple of minutes, tapping the steering wheel, wondering why the hell he’d turned into such a Chatty Cathy. What was wrong with him? Why did he resent the fact Kinsey Wyatt had a date this evening while he…?
In a huff, he shoved the gear shift into Drive, stepped on the accelerator to turn the truck into a U-turn in the middle of Ocean Street and headed back to a Friday night alone.
With two minutes to spare, Kinsey walked through the front door of The Pointe. That glass of red wine to calm her nerves would have to wait until she took her break.
Perry spotted her immediately. “I wasn’t sure you were going to show.”
“Sorry, I got hung up. But I’m here and ready to go.”
He tilted his head, looked her up and down wearing the little black dress with its scoop neckline and flare skirt. “If I were straight I’d hit on you in heartbeat. As it is, you’ll get plenty of tips. Now move your butt to the bar.” He pointed a finger. “Do not pass Go. Grab that glass of wine, take it with you. You look like you could use it because you’re on in two minutes.”
Unlike Kinsey, surrounded by noise and chatter, Logan spent his evening in relative solitude. That is once he finished sharing pot roast with the Harrises, the Fostwicks, the Lathams, and the Whitney sisters.
He had to admit Hutton was a kick to be around. The miniature chatter box sort of reminded Logan of what Kinsey Wyatt must have been like at that age. Baby Scott was just as entertaining with his attempts at imitating his older sister.
Logan listened, until once again, just as it had the night before, the talk around the table turned to children. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Ben and Sheryl Latham missed their own three kids back in San Jose. While Nick and Jordan had their hands full making sure the newlyweds and Kay and Olivia got everything they needed, the Lathams doted on Hutton and Scott.
Amid all the racket, Logan found himself missing the one person who had tried to befriend him, the one person he’d been pushing away ever since he’d first laid eyes on her.
When the meal was done, Logan quietly excused himself to head outside. He needed a walk along the cliffs to clear his head. But ultimately where he ended up was the same spot he’d spent with Kinsey back on the sandy stretch of beach down at the cove.
The waves, gentle and constant, both soothed and troubled him. Just that afternoon Nick had offered him the use of a longboard. Maybe he’d take him up on it. How long had it been since he’d slapped a board in the water anyway? Wasn’t surfing for carefree kids on lazy summer days with too much time on their hands and a lifetime ahead of them?
Those days had long since slipped away. Didn’t he know for certain there were some kids that would never grow old or have the luxury of a future?
Surfing brought back painful memories, memories of happier times, memories he didn’t need right now clouding his head.
He would be wise to remember that pain, because he couldn’t very well let his guard down now.
Later that night Logan dreamed he had his arms curled around Kinsey as they lay in bed, tangled in rumpled sheets. Her hair smelled like rain and spring. He could feel her warm breath make his skin tingle. He touched a silky shoulder and felt her body snuggle further into his. Her long legs locked around him…
Something roused him from sleep.
Feeling like a junior high kid who’d just experienced his first wet dream, Logan saw the man standing at the foot of his bed again. As if he’d been caught in some carnal act, Logan snapped, “What the hell do you want from me?”
“Megan wants you to find her. Are you ready to accept help?”
“Don’t say her name! You have no right to say her name.”
“Then you let me know when you’re ready to listen.”
Before Logan could react, the man was no longer there. Running a shaky hand through his hair, Logan mumbled, “This place is nuts.”
Chapter Eight
Kinsey’s alarm went off way too early. She rolled over to shut off the annoying bleep, bleep, bleep coming from the clock radio on the nightstand. Six-thirty.
She’d fallen into bed less than six hours earlier when Perry had dropped her off around midnight. Now, she crawled out of the sheets to grab a much-needed wake-up shower. As the water did its job to wake her up, she decided she needed to clear her head before putting back on a uniform.
A brisk walk around the grounds was just the ticket.
She put on sweat pants and a top, grabbed a bottle of water from the stash she kept in her room, and slipped down the back staircase.
Once outside she made her way through the quad, following the fragrant pathway pa
st flowers and shrubs heavy with the blossoms of May. For a city girl, who had lived her entire life in cramped apartments with narrow hallways and smelly streets, the setting at the B & B provided a scene she’d only dreamed about. Promise Cove was like a snapshot come to life from the pages of Country Living magazine. Or maybe a picture postcard one might pick up on the rack inside Murphy’s Market.
When the footpath opened up to the wide space of trees and shrubs, she headed out along the cliffs as the sun barely inched its way on the horizon to the east. The brilliant orange sky had her looking upward and the minute she glanced back down, Scott Phillips met her pace stride for stride.
“You’re out and about early today.”
“I’ll be cooped up for eight hours inside. Now’s my only chance to take advantage of this.” She swung her arms out wide. “It’s so beautiful here, so peaceful. I can understand why you don’t like the idea of ever leaving it.”
Scott smiled in that way of his as if he knew a secret no one else knew. “So you won’t let anyone run you off?”
“No! It might be different from what I’m used to, but I’m determined to make a go of it here. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be looking at places to live.”
“About that, Jordan and Nick think they have a solution.”
“She mentioned that last night. I haven’t had time to ask her about it.”
“I’m glad to see you aren’t letting Aaron’s low salary put a ding in your determination. It’ll work out, Kinsey. It all will. You’ll see. You’ve got what it takes to make it as a lawyer here. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”
“How do you know that? I could be the worst one on record.”
“Nah, you have too much heart for that, Kinsey. And there are certain people here that will need your energy and your expertise. Wait and see.”
She automatically checked the time on her watch, afraid she’d be late. “I gotta get to work soon though.”
“There’s still time. You did good last night, Kinsey. As a matter of fact, you play piano beautifully. People all over town are talking about the smart and savvy attorney that’s also a fine musician.”
Lighthouse Reef (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 4) Page 9