Pelican Pointe Boxed Set Books 1 - 3 (A Pelican Pointe Novel)

by Vickie McKeehan

  She zipped up her top and finally managed, “Do you think that’s really wise, Ethan? Your parents won’t be expecting me.” It was way too early to meet his parents, knowing they’d surely put her under a microscope if she got within ten feet, asking questions about her background most people took for granted when they were simply trying to get to know someone, especially a someone their son is―dating.

  Were they dating? They were doing a helluva lot more than dating now.

  Would she ever be ready to answer those kinds of invasive queries from people who just wanted to know something real and true about her? At the prospect of having to lie to his parents, her stomach tensed.

  Ethan didn’t have to be intuitive to recognize unease when he saw it. “I’ve already told them to expect I’d be bringing a date.” He certainly hadn’t wanted to risk his mother setting him up with the first-grade teacher again either. “It’ll be all right, Hayden. I’ll be there to run interference, keep them from getting too nosy.” Although he couldn’t guarantee his father wouldn’t pick up on her guarded demeanor. “What do you say?”

  “Okay. But I need to go home and change clothes. I can’t go like this. Besides, I smell like sex.”

  “You do,” he agreed amicably. He nibbled her jaw again and smiled. “And it just makes me want to eat you up all over again.”

  Chapter 14 Book 2

  The Santa Cruz home of Markus and Lindeen Cody, a beach bungalow Craftsman built in the 1920s, turned out to be filled to capacity with a lively bunch of family and friends who had gathered there to make sure Ethan had an unforgettable thirty-third birthday.

  Hayden decided a little smugly she’d done a pretty good job of taking care of that herself. But as she snuck another glance in the direction of his parents, who seemed to be giving her a rather wide purposeful berth, she was more than a little anxious around all these people, who were obviously relatives and close friends.

  Ethan had failed to mention that he was bringing her to an actual party rather than the sit-down conventional dinner she’d been expecting with just his immediate family.

  Good thing she’d had the presence of mind to listen to him when he’d suggested she dress casually in her skinny jeans and turtleneck instead of the dress she’d wanted to wear. At least Ethan had steered her away from dressing up because here every partygoer was in jeans or beachwear.

  Because of that, she couldn’t blame her uneasiness on the fact she’d broken some dress code.

  As she looked around the deck where a buffet had been set up, she was bombarded by a sea of faces belonging to his numerous aunts and uncles and cousins, all of whom paraded past her in a haze of names attached to all kinds of humorous anecdotes about Ethan as a boy. These people seemed friendly enough as if they hadn’t gotten the memo that Markus and Lindeen were advocating a standoffish approach where she was concerned.

  When Hayden spotted Ethan’s brother, Brent walking her way, her stomach automatically tightened as if a hundred knots were twisting inside. She hoped the lobster salad she’d eaten that afternoon didn’t make a sudden reappearance.

  She tried to summon up courage and reminded herself that she wasn’t a wanted fugitive. Why couldn’t people like Brent concentrate on finding the bad guys like Jeremy, instead of acting as though she had something to hide?

  But then she reluctantly realized she did have something to hide, like who she really was.

  When Brent handed her a plate filled with an assortment of appetizers, almost like a peace offering, she fixed a smile on her face. “Thanks. I was just listening to Ethan’s uncle tell me about the time Ethan had to pull his dog, Snap, off the postman.”

  Brent actually smiled. “Yeah, I think Ethan was probably seven at the time. He and Snap were pretty much inseparable back then. And the postman was old man Bitters. The guy loved to torment Ethan’s dog every chance he got. Ethan took exception and decided he and Snap should teach Bitters a lesson. They waited in the bushes and when old man Bitters got close to the porch, they jumped out, yelled, ‘boo.’ But Bitters was looking for any chance to go after the dog. He started hitting Snap with the night stick he always carried with him. Ethan reacted like a wild boy trying to separate the two. Here was this little guy trying to get a grown man to stop hitting his dog.”

  “And got whacked with the damn night stick right across the back of the head,” Ethan added as he came up behind Hayden, locking his arms around her waist.

  “Took twelve stitches to close him up. Didn’t do a thing to dent that hard head of his though,” Brent said, before taking a bite of a rolled taco. Out of the blue, he asked, “Are you planning on staying put in Pelican Pointe, Hayden?”

  With Ethan at her elbow, she felt suddenly bolder. She turned to face Brent. “I am. I’m settling in just fine, thank you. Learning to cook, even, learning how to grow veggies, as well. Francine knows everything there is to know about growing organic.”

  “She should, she’s been there for thirty years. You really think you can learn how to grow stuff like kale? If I could make a suggestion, why bother? That stuff tastes as bad as Brussels sprouts if you ask me.”

  Hayden muffled a laugh. He sounded like a twelve-year-old boy who didn’t care for eating green veggies. “I’ll be manning the fruit stand starting next week. Why don’t you stop by? I’ll make sure you get a nice big pumpkin to decorate your front porch. Even the top cop in Santa Cruz needs a little Halloween spirit.”

  Ethan laughed and had to tamper his urge to nibble Hayden’s neck right there in front of his parents. “Brent here hasn’t had any Halloween spirit since Tara Dettinger picked up a bowl of spiked punch at the community center dance and dumped the entire thing over his head.”

  Brent placed a hand over his heart. “Tenth grade. Tara always did have a feisty streak. But that’s what I liked about her.”

  “He was sixteen at the time and head over heels in lust with red-haired Tara.”

  “Yeah, it might have been the red hair that did it.”

  “Whatever happened to Tara anyway?”

  Brent sighed. “Last I heard she married a doctor, a plastic surgeon in Santa Barbara, had three kids. She and the doctor are probably rolling in dough from all the Botox he dispenses.”

  Hayden appreciated the razzing between brothers. With an older sister, she could relate to a little harmless banter among siblings. But Brent surprised her when he asked, “You’re really happy out at Taggert’s farm?”

  She smiled at him. For the first time, it was relaxed and genuine. “I am. Who knew a bean counter could find such contentment in the middle of a bunch of cows?”

  After the crowd of well–wishing relatives thinned out, Ethan managed to get his parents alone for five minutes in the kitchen without Hayden around to hear. He’d been a little put off by the way they had both treated Hayden all evening. It wasn’t like either one of them to be so frosty to an invited guest either. But the fact that both of them had ignored her told him something was wrong.

  But as soon as Ethan met his father’s eyes, he had his answer. Markus Cody had already apparently passed on to his wife everything he’d “read” from Hayden.

  Markus cautioned, “The aura of danger surrounds her, enough for me to worry about my youngest son. You’ve fallen for her, have you not?”

  Ethan couldn’t have denied it even if he’d wanted to. “Then why did you and Mom keep your distance tonight?”

  “She’s trouble, Ethan,” his mother added. “After all the women I’ve set you up with over the years, you pick someone with such a difficult past.” She shook her head. “What about Julianne? She loves children, she’s—”

  Ethan didn’t let her finish, even held up a staying hand. “We’ve been over this. I’d much prefer to find my own women, okay? And you don’t know a thing about Hayden. If you’d have bothered to say more than two words to her tonight you might have—”

  But Lindeen Cody was just as adamant. “Ask questions she doesn’t want to answer truthfully? Giv
e us answers that mean nothing, that are probably little white lies? I don’t think so. Will you deny she’s hiding something?”

  Ethan shook his head. No way was he going to tell his parents about all those flashes he’d gotten that afternoon. His dad would want specifics, like how he’d gotten such a powerful connection so quickly. He wasn’t about to share those kinds of details with his father. Hell, if Markus Cody was in top form though, he could probably pick up on the how of it anyway. And that had Ethan ready to leave.

  “Look, it isn’t what you think. If you’d give her half a chance, get to know her even a little, you’d find out she’s a terrific person.” He laid a hand on his heart. “Here. Inside. Her heart is true.” He pointed a finger at his father. “And you of all people should be able to read that as well as the dangerous aura. She has her reasons.”

  “She doesn’t even use her real name,” Lindeen Cody pointed out stubbornly.

  “No, but I’m working on it. Do you trust your own son?” He saw the concern warring with reluctance in their eyes, but waited until he saw them both nod before he added, “Then rely on my instincts where she’s concerned. Because I’m telling you, you’re both making a mistake by not getting to know her.”

  Ethan had left it like that with his parents, but he wasn’t happy about it. He wasn’t angry with them, exactly. No, more like frustrated. He’d known when he asked Hayden to accompany him to their house his father would pick up on her issues. And despite that, he hadn’t wanted to drop her off back at Promise Cove without including her in a family gathering, especially after what they’d shared that afternoon on the island. Yes, the sex had been incredible, but it wasn’t just the physical. Somehow, they’d managed to connect on a level he hadn’t known existed with anyone else, as if her past had melded into his. He’d never gotten flashes that strong, that quick, while inside another woman before in his life until this afternoon. Ever.

  Right now, he was tempted to chalk up how he felt to the flashes he’d gotten and nothing more. But he was lying to himself if he tried to deny how he felt. And that left him feeling a little downhearted at his parents’ reaction.

  As soon as they got into the car, he turned to Hayden and asked, “How about stopping for a drink?”

  “Ethan, we just left a party where there was enough beer to float a boat.” Even though they hadn’t drunk that much, she knew because true to his word, he’d pretty much stayed glued to her side all evening.

  “Then how about some music?”

  Puzzled, trying to gauge his mood, she agreed, “Sure. Are you upset with me about something?”

  He picked up her hand, brought it to his lips. “Not at all. It isn’t you.”

  She frowned. “Ah, something happened at the party then?”

  About that time she watched as he pulled into the pot-holed, parking lot of a dive along the wharf, not five minutes from his parents’ house. The bar, called Spikes, was a seedy little place in worse shape than McCready’s.

  “I used to tend bar here while I went to college. The band on Sunday nights are friends of mine from high school,” he shouted over the din of music blasting from a stingy six-by-six-foot stage, where four guys belted out what sounded like Green Day’s Boulevard of Broken Dreams.

  But the minute the guy behind the pock-marked counter spotted Ethan, he sent up a friendly wave and Ethan waved back.

  He led her to the only available table the size of a postage stamp near the stage.

  “I’ll go get us some drinks,” he yelled in her direction as he set off toward the bar.

  Not sure what they were doing here after the birthday party, Hayden decided to sit back and study this whole new side to Ethan Cody. This wasn’t the uniformed-deputy, or the birthday boy, or the eager lover she’d spent the afternoon wrapped up in. No, this Ethan seemed moodier than she’d ever seen him, troubled maybe or distressed about something. She could only wait and see where the evening went from here and which one of his moods accompanied her home.

  When he brought the drinks back, two sodas with a hint of vanilla rum, the band vaulted into an easy rendition of Barenaked Ladies’ If I Had a Million Dollars.

  The place was too loud to have an actual conversation, so she watched Ethan’s shoulders relax layer by layer and could tell the minute he let go of whatever was bothering him once he got into the music.

  But when the lead singer spotted him at the table, he motioned with his head for Ethan to join them on stage. Seeing him hesitate, Hayden nudged his knee with hers and bellowed, “Go on, show me what you’ve got.”

  She got a kick out of watching him strut on stage with all the confidence of someone who’d been there before. He picked up one of the extra guitars leaning against the back wall, slipped the strap over his head, and immediately dived into The Black Crowes’ Hard to Handle, lead vocals and all.

  The guy had a killer voice. Rock star good looks. And by the time the song ended with a round of applause and whistles, it seemed he also had a following. Every female waitress in the place, as well as most of the women in the audience, had their eyes on dark-haired, good-looking Ethan Cody.

  When the band riffed into the first chords of the heart-tugging, Let it Be Me, Ethan’s sultry vocals hit every range, blending with backup like he belonged there.

  The minute their eyes locked—Hayden’s heart reluctantly plunged―into a place she didn’t want to fall. She didn’t need complications. Her life was messed up enough. But by the time he harmonized his way through Snow Patrol’s You’re All I Have, seemingly singing the song just to her, she’d lifted off like a rocket again, deciding to enjoy every moment of the ride.

  After that night, the days ran together as Hayden kept up a brutal pace. She did the bookkeeping at the farm on automatic. She might have been in her element with accounting, but she discovered little satisfaction in it. Certainly not like before, before she’d found this backwater little town with its slice of ocean, beach and sand, before she’d found Ethan Cody.

  Five nights a week when she worked at the Diner, she usually stayed over at his house, practicing a new kind of schedule, a new kind of rhythm. At least for Hayden it was new.

  After her shift ended, he would always be there to walk her to her car. Then they’d head to his house, have a late bite to eat, talk until they fell into bed where they’d make love into all hours of the night.

  Even though they didn’t get a lot of sleep, Hayden found a joy in having someone to share things with, things she’d never thought to share before. They never lacked for conversation. He seemed to always have something interesting to talk about, some amusing anecdote from his beat around town, or some passage from a book he’d read, or was currently reading. He went everywhere with a book under his arm, whether it ranged from classic literature like Steinbeck, or Jack Kerouac, or to rereading one of John Grisham’s novels.

  If he had to get up earlier than she did to make a police call, and they didn’t eat breakfast together, he’d leave her little notes on his pillow that said things like, “enjoy your day,” or “maybe we could meet for lunch.”

  She wondered how she could have been so self-absorbed in her career that she put having a personal relationship on the backburner. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out, though. She’d never known anyone like Ethan before. Ever. Or anyone who could make her bones melt in the sack for that matter.

  Before Ethan, sex had been just sex. That is, when she had bothered with it. But spending time in Ethan’s bed, she now fully understood the difference. Just thinking about their time together, and how they’d spent the night before doing things to each other, had her cheeks flushing.

  She glanced around to see if anyone in the Diner had caught her lustful day-dreaming before letting her eyes drift to the wall clock. Eight-forty. Like a kid waiting for the final bell to ring at school, she couldn’t wait for closing time to get there, couldn’t wait to get her hands on Ethan. She sighed, and started cleaning up a good twenty minutes before it was tim
e to put the Closed sign on the door.

  Over the next several days every time Ethan made love to Hayden, the images of what had happened to her in that parking garage got stronger, sharper. The snapshot of the man with the knife was sometimes so clear he no longer had to wonder why she was on the run since he could clearly make out the perp’s steely gray eyes and determination beneath the ski mask he wore.

  But without a name there wasn’t a helluva lot he could do with the description. He sure couldn’t run an image of a ski mask in his head through NCIC.

  Each time, he’d wanted to grill her about the incident. The temptation had been so great he’d all but had to stuff his mouth with the bedding not to ask her twenty questions about it.

  The fact that he hadn’t was a testament to how much she meant to him. They were just getting to a good place in their relationship, a place that spoke comfort and trust.

  Even though he knew damn well Hayden Ryan was not the name of the woman he was sharing his bed with, he didn’t really care.

  And the cop in him had difficulty accepting that. Any other time, with any other woman, he wouldn’t have hesitated to question her at length. But each time something held him back. Maybe it was the sheer terror he saw in those big green eyes that night in the garage, or maybe it was the helplessness he saw there. Whatever it was, it was keeping him in a constant state of frustration. And that had him feeling more than alarmed for her safety.

  But then again, it might have been something simpler, like the woman’s body and the way it responded to his.

  That man in the parking garage had tried to rape her. A random attack? Ethan didn’t think so. She wouldn’t go on the run, change her name, because of a random attack. Even though he saw the images clear enough, he knew the man had threatened her; he just couldn’t make out the words.