Low Tide: Rarity Cove Book Two

by Tentler, Leslie

  It had been a long time coming, but Jake Medero had finally been indicted—in federal district court for felony interstate stalking, although the state’s attorney here had decided not to pursue conspiracy attempted rape charges.

  “There’s more.” He’d held off on telling her because he wanted to break the news in person. The bounty he had offered for information on the gang member who had crashed into Quinn and assaulted her on the beach had finally paid off. “They found the gangbanger in Atlanta. He’s in police custody and being extradited here. He flipped on Medero—things are about to get worse for him.” At her visible unease, he lowered his voice. “Honey, we’re a step closer to putting this behind us.”

  She gave a faint nod. Carter thought at times she would prefer to just have the whole matter dropped, that the restraining order was enough as long as Medero continued to obey it. But things were in the hands of law enforcement now. Unfortunately, media attention would surround the trial, putting Quinn back in the spotlight. But they would get through it together.

  Emily called for Quinn from the kitchen.

  “I’m glad you’re home.” Her eyes shone with affection. “I’ve missed you.” She glanced down to the dog, who sat at Carter’s feet, tail wagging. “So has Doug.”

  As she went into the kitchen, Carter walked to the foyer for his carry-on bag. He brought it to where Quinn and Emily sat at the island, puzzle pieces spread over its granite top. The puzzle was only about a third completed, but he could tell the colorful image was of Charleston’s Rainbow Row. Nearby, Ethan nibbled on a cookie, which had caught Doug’s attention.

  Unzipping the bag, Carter withdrew souvenirs from Vancouver—a snow globe for Emily and, for Ethan, a pint-size hockey stick and plastic puck imprinted with the logo of the Vancouver pro hockey team. Both children expressed their delight. His cookie forgotten, Ethan began knocking the puck around on the tiled floor with the stick.

  Quinn smiled and shook her head. “Samantha’s going to love you for that.”

  “This is for Nora.” He extracted an exquisite jade bowl and placed it on the island. “I bought it in an art gallery in British Columbia.”

  “Brownnoser,” she teased. Over these last months, Carter had worked his charm on Nora. She also seemed pleased to have her daughter nearby, even if she still didn’t approve of their living together.

  Emily shook the snow globe, sending white and silver flakes over the miniature skyline of Vancouver. “What does Aunt Quinn get?”

  Carter handed an elegant box about the size of a stick of butter to Quinn. “You might want to open that alone.”

  “Why?” Emily craned her head as Quinn lifted the box’s lid just enough to peek inside. She closed it again, emotion passing over her face. His heart filled as their gazes held.

  Emily continued to peer inquisitively at the box. “I want to see! What is it?”

  “That’s a secret for now,” Carter told her.

  * * *

  “Do you think they’ll ever come back?” Mercer asked jokingly, referring to Olivia and Anders’s honeymoon trip that was well into its second month. She was in the kitchen with Samantha and Quinn, the three having cleaned up after dinner while the men had gone onto the porch. “They’ve had time to see about every square inch of Europe.”

  Samantha placed a glass-domed cover over the remains of the fluffy coconut cake she had served for dessert. “I think it’s sweet. It’s nice they’re taking a trip like this while they’re both still in good health.”

  “Which reminds me, do you have a date set for the move yet?” Quinn inquired of Samantha. With Olivia moving into Anders’s home in Charleston, she had offered the Big House to Mark and his family.

  “Not yet.” Samantha wiped crumbs from the counter with a cloth. “Not until Olivia comes back, since we have to figure out what she’s taking with her and what’s staying or going to be sold. I’m really not in any hurry, to be honest. I love living here. But when Ethan came along, we started getting a little cramped. The move just makes sense.”

  Quinn thought of the white-columned home. It was elegant and spacious, but she could also understand Samantha’s reluctance to leave the picturesque bungalow.

  “I know you’re happy to have Carter back. We all are.” Samantha added lightly, “Although I have a bone to pick with him about that puck and hockey stick.”

  Quinn simply smiled and took a sip of her herbal tea. Despite the time he had been away from Hollywood while he had been injured, Carter was taking another extended hiatus now that filming of The Rainy Season was completed. With the exception of being called to the West Coast for reshoots or post-production work, he wasn’t committed to anything else film-wise until the following summer. While the new talent agent representing him had argued against it, Carter had passed on another highly anticipated movie slated to film in the spring.

  Jonathan entered through the front door and headed into the kitchen. His cancer was now fully in remission. “Just coming in for another beer, ladies. Don’t mind me.”

  Quinn liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

  Mercer gasped and laughed when he unexpectedly swung her into the circle of his arms, pulling off a few steps of a Carolina shag before releasing her and heading to the refrigerator.

  “We should cut you off,” Mercer called as he retreated back outside, amber bottle in hand. She gave Quinn and Samantha an exasperated look, but she was also beaming. “Thank goodness I’d already put down my wineglass.”

  Children’s play-filled shrieks, as well as barking, came from the home’s rear. The dog wasn’t Doug, who had been left at home, but a Lab mix the family had adopted from the local shelter several months ago.

  “I better go check on that. We’re about done in here, anyway.” Samantha slipped down the hall. At nearly the same time, Mercer’s cell phone rang. She took it from her purse on the counter and looked at the screen. “I need to take this,” she said to Quinn. “Do you mind?”

  “Of course not.”

  Phone to her ear, Mercer walked farther into the living area. Not wanting to eavesdrop, Quinn left her teacup on the counter and wandered onto the porch, where Mark and Jonathan were engaged in conversation. Carter wasn’t with them. It was mid-October, but the nighttime air was still warm and held the invigorating scent of ocean brine.

  “Quinn,” Mark said upon seeing her. “Carter was just updating us on the center. I knew you were on its board of directors, but I didn’t realize how involved you’ve been with it.”

  She nodded. “I’ve been having some say on the facility.”

  It was one of the other things she’d done to occupy her time while Carter had been away. Construction on the fitness complex specially equipped for vets with disabilities would begin in February. Carter had given a million dollars to the cause and was also lending his time to a public fundraising campaign. The center was being built in Charleston, with hopes of opening others around the country if the concept took off. Carter’s funding of the facility, as well as Quinn’s physical therapy experience, were the reasons she had been given a seat on the board.

  “Where is Carter?” Quinn asked.

  Mark nodded to the sand dunes and the path that ran between them to the beach.

  “Is he okay?”

  “I think so. He just said he wanted to go down to the water.”

  Excusing herself, Quinn left her shoes on the porch and followed the path Carter had taken, a star-filled sky above her and cool sand between her toes. Upon seeing Carter at the shoreline, she quietly observed him as he watched the water. Her heart lifted. He looked so fit and strong. Over the last seven months, with the exception of the time he had been away, Quinn had gradually shifted her role from therapist to personal trainer. Other than the scars that remained on his body and a slight diminishment of the fine motor skills in the fingers of his right hand, he had fully recovered, at least physically.

  She worried Elliott Kaplan’s betrayal had affected him much more deeply t
han he let on.

  While they still had to face Jake’s trial, there would be no such ordeal for Elliott. He had died of cardiac arrest just a few weeks after Carter’s visit to him in the hospital. An autopsy had revealed a weakened heart. Whether it had been caused by his escalating alcohol and drug use, or the stress of living with what he had done, they would never know.

  She made her presence known, walking up beside Carter and slipping her fingers inside his.

  “What’re you doing?” she asked, the wind whipping her hair. “You look lonely out here.”

  “Far from it.” His profile was illuminated by the moonlight as he looked out. “I’ve got the fullest life of anyone I know. Sometimes I just need the quiet to appreciate it.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I tried to teach you meditation.”

  He chuckled. “It didn’t stick. Just being out here, though, gives me peace of mind. It’s my own form of meditation.”

  Turning to her, he tenderly rested a hand on her stomach. “You’re going to be showing soon.”

  Quinn thought of the gift Carter had brought her from Vancouver. It wasn’t for her, really. It was a silver spoon for their baby. It was clichéd perhaps, but she knew Carter intended to give his child everything he or she could want. Quinn worried about another miscarriage, but she had made it much further with this pregnancy already. Going off birth control had been something they had discussed, although she had gotten pregnant much more quickly than she had expected. Her pregnancy, in fact, was the main reason Carter was taking more time off from Hollywood. He didn’t want to miss any of it. If everything worked out, she would have the baby in the late spring, two months before he began filming a thriller in New York City. Quinn would close down her practice temporarily, and she, the baby and Doug would go with him and stay at his apartment in Manhattan.

  “You’re at twelve weeks. I’ve heard that’s the magic number. Have you told anyone yet?”

  “Just Mom.” Nora had always felt left out, so Quinn had wanted her to know before the St. Clairs. Her mother had agreed to keep the news secret until Carter’s family was told. Nora still could be difficult, but it seemed she was trying. She was seeing Emily regularly and was planning a trip in a few weeks to Tennessee to visit the Pickwells and Kents.

  “What does Nora think?”

  “Well, she’s excited about another grandchild—”

  “But she thinks we should be married.” Tucking several strands of her hair behind her ear, Carter looked into her eyes. “Did you tell her that’s what I think, too?”

  “We’ve had a reason for waiting,” she rationalized. “We only found out a few weeks before you left for Vancouver.”

  “I’m back now.” He touched her face, his voice soft. “I know what you’re thinking, Quinn. You’re afraid marriage will jinx us. Your parents’ marriage didn’t last, and whatever it was you had with Medero was a disaster.” He pressed his forehead briefly to hers, then looked into her eyes again. “That’s not going to be you and me. And we’ve talked about this. It might be the Hollywood thing to do, but I don’t want to have a child and just live together.” His voice grew rough with emotion. “I want our baby to have a perfect life. I want us to have a perfect life.”

  He stood so close she could feel the movement of his breathing. Carter had come to know her so well. She didn’t speak for several long moments.

  “If we do this…I want to keep it small and private. And I don’t want to walk down some aisle in front of everyone, looking like a whale.”

  “We’ll have it as soon as you want. Tomorrow’s fine with me.”

  Quinn laughed softly. “That might be a little too soon, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

  “Seriously, whenever you want it, Quinn.” His fingers tangled with hers. “I’ll marry you anytime and anywhere. We can have it in a church or at the hotel, or even right here on the beach like Mark and Samantha did. We’ll swear everyone to secrecy so the media doesn’t find out.”

  Her pulse quickened at the decision they seemed to have made. Looking up at him, Quinn could hardly believe this was her life. That she could love someone as much as she loved him. She had concerns about a child growing up in the spotlight, but Carter had promised they would do everything to keep their lives as private and as grounded as possible.

  “I think it’s time we told everyone while we’re all together,” he pressed gently.

  “What about Olivia and Anders?”

  “We’ll call them and put them on speaker. It’s their own fault for lazing around Europe. I’m going to explode if I have to hold this in much longer.”

  Her heart bumping inside her chest, Quinn finally nodded.

  “That’s my girl.”

  His smile was infectious, chasing away any lingering anxiety. Quinn felt hope and anticipation for their future. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Carter kissed her temple. The roar and crash of the ocean behind them, they walked back to the bungalow to share their news.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you sincerely for reading LOW TIDE. As always, my readers are the reason I write, and I’m so appreciative of your ongoing enthusiasm and support.

  There are several people I would like to thank for their assistance with this book. They include Kimberly Melvan, DPT, SCS, CSCS, CKTP, who readily answered endless questions about physical therapy to help me more accurately depict her occupation. I’d also like to thank my copy editor, Joyce Lamb; critique partner, Michelle Muto; and beta reader Katherine Knight. Kathy opened herself to many invaluable character and plot discussions on our morning walks with our dogs.

  Finally, thank you to my husband, Robert, for your unending patience, love and companionship, and for always being my shelter in the storm.

  About the Author

  Leslie Tentler is also the author of BEFORE THE STORM, FALLEN and the Chasing Evil Trilogy (MIDNIGHT CALLER, MIDNIGHT FEAR and EDGE OF MIDNIGHT). She was a finalist for Best First Novel at ThrillerFest 2012 and is a two-time finalist for the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery and Suspense. She is also the recipient of the prestigious Maggie Award of Excellence.

  Leslie is a member of Romance Writers of America, International Thriller Writers and Novelists, Inc. A native of East Tennessee, she currently resides in Atlanta.

  If you enjoyed reading Leslie’s work, please consider leaving an online review, however short. Of course, simply telling others you enjoyed this book is also sincerely appreciated. Word of mouth is the best promotion.

  Visit Leslie At

  @leslie_tentler

  leslietentler

  www.leslietentler.com

  Other Works by Leslie Tentler

  Before the Storm

  Fallen

  Midnight Caller

  Midnight Fear

  Edge of Midnight