“I’m sorry sir, no vacancy in Chatham tonight.” The woman’s voice was apologetic.
“Well, that settles it. Come on, bunkmate.” Lindsey’s fingers brushed his arm and a bolt of attraction zinged through him.
Lindsey was off-limits. Way off-limits. She was weeks away from delivering a baby—one that would need around-the-clock care, unlimited diaper changes, and would delight in lots and lots of squawking. He had enough baggage to fill a double-deck jet. Together, they would bring an airbus screeching to a halt. He’d spend the night, and figure things out in the morning with a clear mind and strong cup of black coffee.
Chapter Two
Lindsey looked past the dunes and swaying sea grass toward the rolling ocean. She ran a hand over her belly, the tumbling kicks of her active baby bumping against her hand. The intense movements reminded her that the baby was healthy and strong, and that she must be, too. It wasn’t the way she’d planned on bringing her child into the world—a single parent with finances stretched to the brink of breaking. The day before hadn’t been kind to her draining funds. She was sure car repairs would cost a pretty penny. Daisy circled in front of her feet and danced at the door, eager to be let outside.
Lindsey tiptoed quietly onto the porch, heard the sagging wood creak, and watched the dog race toward a sandpiper waddling across the beach. She shushed the dog’s barks—Damien was still sleeping in the spare room. The fresh salt water air greeted her, the cry of gulls swooping over the shore line welcomed her. She’d come home to heal, to settle where her roots ran strong after her husband had made a fool of her. She’d been so naive during their short marriage.
Lindsey had used the money she’d squirreled away from her position as an accountant to put a down payment on the cottage, before Matthew told her she needed to stay home and tend to her pregnancy. He hadn’t really cared about her well-being, but it was more convenient to sneak around with his assistant while Lindsey was safely tucked away at home. She shook her head. When had she lost her spine?
The sliding door opened and Damien came out onto the porch, a five o’clock shadow peppering his face. The close-shaven military cut was a stark contrast to dark hair that swung to his collar in high school. There was a pull in her belly, one that had nothing to do with the baby’s constant gymnastic performance. It had been hard to sleep with him right across the hall.
“That’s a hell of a view you have,” he said, as he looked toward the ocean.
“It makes the warped floors and peeling paint worth it.” She laughed it off, though the worry ran bone-deep. In its current state, the cottage was no place to raise a child. It wasn’t the well-kept waterfront home she remembered, but she’d have to make do with what she had. It was too late to back out now.
“Did it look like this when you toured it before purchase? The sellers are obligated to keep it in decent shape—you can go after them for the repairs, Lindsey.” He stood firmly, looking ready to defend her. He looked better than the double chocolate brownies she’d been craving; his shirt was pulled taunt over his broad chest and tattoos he didn’t have when he left the town snaked over his upper arm and added to the tough aura he carried. He caught her staring and she quickly looked out at the water.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d purchased it sight-unseen, lured by distant memories and a chance to get far, far away from her husband and his infidelities. The price had been reasonable, and now she understood why.
“I can’t.” She caught a strand of hair the wind carried away and tucked it behind her ear. “I needed a place to stay, something permanent, and I purchased without seeing it first. The listing photos had looked decent…” Lindsey pushed her shoulders back when the urge to weep crashed over her like the waves slapping over the shore.
“You could stay at your folks’ place while someone is rehabbing it,” Damien suggested.
Lindsey laughed bitterly. Wasn’t the reason she’d snapped it up to prove to her parents, to everyone, that she could stand on her own two feet and face life as a single parent without handouts and pitied glances?
“No.” Her voice sounded stronger than it felt. “I’m going to stay. Once I pick up my car, I’m going to grab a mop at the store and start scrubbing. Things always look better clean.”
Damien shot a doubtful look back at the cottage. “If you say so, Freckles.”
She hadn’t heard the silly nickname in a decade, and it still sent a warm flush through her. What was wrong with her? She had been walked over, chewed up, spit out, and shot out of a cannon by her soon-to-be ex. Yet Damien still made her heart flutter and breath quicken after all this time.
As kids, she and Damien had been close. They skipped rocks at the pond behind her house, climbed trees, and finished their homework at the library after school. Damien had never wanted to go home. Then as eighth grade came to a close, they had an awkward encounter in a friend’s closet during an unfortunate—or very fortunate depending on which side you were on—game of Spin the Bottle.
She’d never forget the moment when they had leaned in too quickly, bumped noses, and giggled nervously. They’d sure gotten it right the second try, though. He had touched her lips softly with his, pulled back to look at her, then drew her in again, deepening the kiss, running his hands over her hair. After that, Damien had distanced himself from her, and once they hit high school, he didn’t even acknowledge her in the hallways.
“Let’s hit the road. John said the car would be ready by nine o’clock, and he’s never late.” Damien pulled open the slider and stood back so she could go through first.
Her stomach knotted. The funds in her savings and checking account were dipping disastrously low. Everything was so tight. As long as the car didn’t cost her an arm and a leg, she could make it work. She called Daisy who lifted her head from a hole she’d dug on the beach. A sandy mustache covered her snout.
“Hey, are you all right?” Damien touched her shoulder. “You look a little pale.”
Lindsey mustered a smile. “I’m all right. Probably just a little flushed from the heat, or the watermelon-sized baby I’m carrying around.” He returned her smile; it touched his impossibly blue eyes, and made her heart beat a little faster. Why did he have to look that good?
They got onto his bike and drove downtown to the shop. Just as she’d expected, the damn car ate a sizable chunk out of her checking account, but it couldn’t be helped. After she bought a few groceries and cleaning supplies, she’d need to tighten her belt loop until she could find some type of employment.
Once outside the shop, Lindsey faced Damien on the sidewalk. The real reason Damien was back on the Cape was on her mind. It would be hard for him to lay to rest the man that caused him so much pain. Someone should be there to support him. “Thank you for your help. Really, I appreciate it. I’d like to attend your father’s funeral, if it wouldn’t be too obtrusive. I noticed the obituary said a private burial would be held.”
He shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “It’s not obtrusive. My father had a few aunts and uncles from Tennessee. It’s going to be a small crowd. I’m going to the lawyer’s office for the will reading this afternoon, and then the burial is tomorrow.”
“And after that?” Lindsey shifted uncomfortably as the baby pressed and prodded.
“Clean out the house, list it, and pray to God someone buys it.” He surveyed the busy road. Cars chugged along Main Street; tourists on their way to play mini golf or shop for nautical treasures in a downtown store, like the one she’d dreamed of owning as a kid.
“Where will you stay in town?” Chatham was officially packed. The summer months always were. What would he do if he couldn’t find a place to stay?
“I’ll check the motels. There has to be vacancy somewhere.”
“And if there’s not?” Why did she kept pressing? Perhaps she was remembering the little boy who counted on her to stash a few snacks in her knapsack. She couldn’t deny that having him in the next room the night before had taken away som
e of the loneliness.
“Worried about me, Freckles?” He grinned and the busy street faded away, the beeping cars, the thick throngs of tourists disappeared. All she could see was him; clear blue eyes and hard bronzed skin, dark closely shaven hair and an easy stance. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and suddenly the world tilted and swayed. Damien gripped her arms and steadied her.
“Whoa, take it easy now.” Concern clouded his eyes and he kept his arms firmly around her. It was nice to be held, even just for a moment, in strong and secure arms.
“All of a sudden, everything was spinning. I’m okay now. I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.” She was in the third trimester and nausea still reared its ugly head in the morning, but the dizzy spell was a first.
“We’ll fix that. Let’s get you out of this heat.” He grasped her hand. His palms were tough and callused. The contact sent a warm pang through her. Lindsey protested as he pulled her toward the diner.
“I can get something at home. It’s not far from here.” She couldn’t keep dropping money on restaurant food.
“Consider it my payment for the lodging. Don’t fight me, I’ll win,” he said. When he opened the door to the diner, an instantly refreshing burst of cold air hit her.
“What makes you so sure?” She smiled back at him now.
“Three tours in Iraq. Marine sniper.” He grinned, arms crossed over his chest, and hip cocked to one side. Lindsey swallowed.
“I threw a punch at Marcy Robins in high school, but I think you have me beat.” She put a hand against her back to ease the perpetual ache.
“I remember that. She was bullying a freshman and you came to the rescue.” Damien’s eyes twinkled. She swore she saw a flash of pride in them.
“And I was grounded for a month when the school called home.” Her parents had flipped and she’d been stripped of her adolescent rights to talk on the phone and go to the mall. In the eyes of a teen, her world came to a halt. If only things were so simple now.
A waitress greeted them, and led them through the cramped dining room to a corner booth. Lindsey inhaled the smell of newly roasted coffee and looked longingly at the pot.
“Water is fine for me, thanks,” she said when the waitress offered her a cup.
“I’ve been fantasizing about my post-pregnancy meal for months, and it includes coffee and red wine.” Lindsey took a sip of water and wished it was something else.
“That’s two liquids.” He grinned at her, and her heart fluttered like a dragonfly was loose in her chest.
“Oh, the list goes on but I’m not sure you have time to hear it.” They smiled at each other. Was that a hint of flirt that sparkled in his eyes? The waitress set down their drinks, then hurried to seat a new customer.
“I have a proposition for you.” Damien took a gulp of black coffee and eyed her squarely.
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?” Lindsey lowered her menu to face him fully.
“If I can’t find a place in town, maybe you’ll consider taking on a boarder. I’m guessing I’ll be here for a little over a month to get my dad’s place in better shape before I list it. I’d pay you the going rate for a motel in town.” She hesitated, and he added, “It would be a win-win for both of us. I’d get a place to stay with a million-dollar view, and you’d get some extra cash for when the baby arrives.”
The waitress came back, and they ordered. He’d struck a chord. She really needed additional money to prepare for the baby. Matthew had left her high and dry, taking her name off the joint accounts. It would hurt her pride to accept money from Damien, but logically his suggestion did make sense.
“Okay. You have a deal.” He held out a hand and they shook on it. “Your stay at Casa de Lindsey will include breakfast, just like the area hotels, but no maid service.” She smirked at him as the waitress set down their heaping plates. Her belly growled.
“Don’t worry, I’m a big boy. I can pick up after myself.” Damien spread a paper napkin on his lap, picked up a fork and dug into his scrambled eggs.
“That’s good, because my current shape doesn’t lend itself to scuba diving under the bed searching for dirty socks to wash.”
He leaned back, looked her over. “Your shape is just fine, Lindsey.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She might have believed he was sincere, if she didn’t feel like a balloon, one that kept being pumped with helium to the point of bursting. The pregnancy glow had certainly passed her by, but not the morning sickness, the swollen ankles, or random bursts of acne she hadn’t experienced even as a teenager. Lindsey hoped that after a rough pregnancy, nature would cut her some slack and give her a complication-free birth. At least her mother would be by her side, and her father in the waiting room. The thought of delivering the baby on her own, without a hand to hold or someone to lean on for support, scared her silly.
Damien crunched down a strip of bacon. Everything about him was rugged and strong, and just looking at him made her heart beat faster. It could be dangerous having him in the next room night after night, and nothing about her current situation was conducive to the steamy thoughts she was entertaining. She needed to focus on two things: providing for her baby and caring for him or her as a single parent. Lindsey couldn’t let resurfacing feelings for Damien muddle her mind. She was not interested in romance, not after all she’d been through. It had to be all the hormones running through her body making her crazy, putting all these images in her mind. Was she strong enough to avoid the temptation? She hoped so, because like the purchase of the cottage, it was too late to turn back now.
Chapter Three
Rain drizzled from an ominous gray sky, and a handful of black umbrellas dotted the grave site. Damien stood with his jaw tight and lips stiff as the casket was lowered into the ground. Cold droplets trickled down his face to the edge of his tight collared shirt, like the tears he’d never be able to cry. He was being watched, and he knew instantly it was her. Lindsey had told him she would come, and she had. That held weight with Damien. So many people made promises, talked about things they’d do or wouldn’t do, but at the end of the day, their actions didn’t live up to the talk.
He glimpsed at her out of the corner of his eye, and caught a flash of the blond hair that trailed over her shoulders and flowed nearly to her waist. She wore a navy-blue dress that hugged her body and her rounded belly. Attraction coiled in his stomach. He still wanted her. He had always wanted her, but girls like Lindsey didn’t belong with men like him. She would want a family man, someone who came home after their nine-to-five, and ate pot roast at the table before bouncing the baby on his knee. After his screwed-up childhood, he thought it best not to go down that route with anyone. He did best on his own and had excelled as a Marine, but now he didn’t even have that. He had no idea what he was going to do next.
When the burial was over, he said a few words to his father’s relatives, ones he hadn’t seen in over twenty years. Lindsey stood near a cluster of trees waiting. Her hair whipped wildly as the storm intensified. He walked past columns of headstones to meet her.
“Thanks for coming.” The drizzle changed to a downpour and thick droplets of cold rain pelted down on them.
“Get under my umbrella.” Lindsey gently grasped his arm and pulled him close to her. He was already wet from standing without one during the burial, but there were worse things than being huddled next to Lindsey as the storm swirled around them.
“How are you holding up?” Her voice was gentle and sweet. He could listen to a voice like that all day.
“I’m fine. Part of me wishes I could feel sorry or sad. I just feel numb.” Why the hell had he shared that with her? In her eyes he found kindness, and a judgement-free understanding. That was why. She hadn’t changed a bit. Lindsey had been the only person he trusted enough to tell his secrets to. They often had talked about their dreams and fears as they watched fireflies glow over the dune grass. That had been before he kissed her, before the ground had shaken under his feet with the simple bru
sh of lips. He’d had to distance himself from her then, because Lindsey had deserved better than the likes of him.
“You closed this chapter of your life when you left Chatham. You’ve already mourned for the father he never really was.” She ran her hand down the sleeve of his shirt, and he fought the urge to pull her against him, and find comfort in her embrace. Instead, he stepped back, breaking the contact.
“Let’s get out of here before we’re both soaked through.” Was that disappointment that swam in her eyes, or was it just him wishing it was there?
“Come in the car with me, Damien. You’ll drown if you take your bike.”
He shook his head. “I’ll get your interior wet.” He turned to walk toward the Harley. “See you at the cottage,” he yelled over the rain pounding on the pavement.
“I don’t care about the seat. It’s just water. It’ll dry.” Her eyes pleaded with him. Damien didn’t want to be in an enclosed space with her. He was already pinned under her spell.
“I’ll see you at the cottage,” he said again, needing to get away from her before he did something stupid. Damien swung a leg over the bike, kicked out the stand and revved the engine. The bike roared to life under him. It would be hard spending the next few weeks in the small seaside bungalow with Lindsey only a few feet away at any given moment.
He’d seen her carefully count her cash at the sandwich shop, and then her shoulders slump slightly when the bill was presented at the garage. She was too proud to take a handout, so he had suggested they bunk together, even though the Seahorse Inn had phoned him to let him know of an unexpected vacancy. This was his chance to help her as she had helped him. He wouldn’t screw it up by packing on more uncomfortable feelings for her.
As he pulled up to the cottage, he looked over the sandy hills teeming with tall grass, out to the choppy ocean waves. With a little work, this cottage would be a picturesque retreat. When he opened the front door, the little dog greeted him, its stump of a tail ticking back and forth. Daisy rolled over to expose her stomach, and her jowls fell back into a smile as he rubbed her belly. He’d dripped water all over the floor, and stood to get a towel.
In with the Tide Page 2