Heavy Netting

by Nicki Greenwood

  The boy stared at Bran. “Do you have a gun?”

  Bran almost smiled. The perennial question from anyone under ten years old. Next would be, had he shot someone? “Not on me. Listen, Ross, you can be a big help. I’m looking for some missing property, and I think someone might have snuck it in with your stuff. Can you dump out your backpack for me?”

  The wary look sharpened for a moment, but the kid shrugged. “It’s just my summer camp papers.” He dropped his bike in the grass with a childlike carelessness that actually made Bran smile this time. He unzipped his backpack and dumped it out into the grass beside the bike.

  Papers fluttered to the ground. The kid opened his folder. More papers, and a dog-eared Refractor comic book. A couple of pencils, and the assorted flotsam that accumulated at the bottom of a first grader’s bag. Rudy’s kids were repeat offenders in that department.

  And then, onto the grass beside Ross’s crayon scribbles of pirate ships, fell a shiny black rock and a cell phone.

  The kid’s eyes went round. “Those aren’t mine.”

  Bran managed to stifle the twelve swear words that sprang to mind. “Don’t move,” he said and went to his car. In the glove compartment, he found two clean plastic baggies and gloves, then returned to the kid. He picked up the piece of obsidian and the phone, then slid them into the bags, all under the boy’s awed gaze.

  “Am I in trouble?” the kid asked, clearly looking like he thought he’d get jail time.

  Bran hid his amusement and gave the kid his most serious expression. “I don’t think so, but I’d better talk with your parents. You might just be able to help me catch a bad guy.”

  “Coo-o-o-o-l!” Ross scooped up his backpack, its contents, and his bike. Bran followed him as he walked his bike onward.

  The peal of tires on gravel halted him. Bran turned on his heel to find a silver two-door speeding away down the road. He glimpsed the first two letters of a Maine plate through a rooster tail of dust, and the back of a head in the driver’s seat, but nothing else.

  Son of a bitch. Obsidian had planted the phone and the rock. Another taunt.

  No, a threat.

  He’d flushed Bran out. He had the leverage, because while Bran knew nothing about him, he’d known plenty about Bran.

  Including Jenna.

  Chapter Seven

  Sitting in the office at Maggie’s Diner, Jenna totaled up the last column of numbers then sat back with a satisfied sigh.

  And not just because the numbers matched up—they were all well into the black. The booth at the Lobster Crawl was important…but Bran kept sneaking into her thoughts with that light-on-his-feet tread, so that she’d be daydreaming for ten minutes before realizing she’d been sidetracked. She glanced at the clock. Five-oh-four. Still plenty of time before she met him at the inn.

  More daydreaming.

  Jill Aubry, one of the diner’s co-owners, ducked into the office. “How’s it coming, honey?”

  “Great, really great,” she murmured.

  Jill cracked one of her brief smiles. “Sally’s finishing up a party of three, and then she’ll take a look at your notes. Listen, I know you’re not on the clock anymore, but could you hand out a special? I’ll float you the extra ten minutes in your next check.”

  “Sure.” Jenna saved her work, then put the laptop in her bag and left a CD of the Lobster Crawl notes for Sally on the desk. In the tiny staff room, she pulled her apron from her locker then tied it back on.

  She never minded a little extra work. Jill and Maggie had been good to her. The diner was a decent source of income, with plenty of hours when she needed them—which seemed to be a lot, given her temperamental car—and she couldn’t ask for better bosses.

  She carried a lobster burger, fries, and root beer to Table Nine. The dining room was full of murmuring customers enjoying their meals.

  The dark-blond young man sitting at Table Nine grinned as she approached. His gray eyes crinkled at the corners. “Looks great,” he said.

  “This is our house specialty,” she said. “It has a little kick, but people seem to enjoy it.”

  “I know I will.” He smiled up at her. “Thanks…Jenna,” he said, reading her tag and reminding her of Bran.

  Thinking of Bran again—which put her in an even better mood—Jenna asked, “Are you here for the Lobster Crawl festival?”

  “I might stick around for it,” the man said.

  “Well, you enjoy your meal. We’ll be back in a few minutes to see if you need anything else, okay?”

  He thanked her and, humming along with the music on the unobtrusive sound system, she returned to the office. “All set, Jill,” she called into the kitchen.

  “Thanks, hon,” Jill answered. “See you in the morning?”

  “Bright and early.” Jenna stowed her apron back in the staff room. After a pit stop in the restroom to change into her favorite floral sundress, she met Sally in the office.

  “You are a magician, Jenna Sanborn,” Sally said from the seat at the desk. “We’ll have just about everything we need for the Crawl. I’ll be there first thing to get the tent set up, and then Jill and Maggie are bringing the food over.” She eyed Jenna from top to bottom. “You are going to be there?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  With a wicked grin, Sally rocked back in the office chair. “I don’t know. You seemed to have a distracted glow, this morning. And you’re wearing your sexy sandals.”

  Blushing, Jenna interested herself in the calendar, which bore a picture of a mother and baby horse in a field of wildflowers. Horses made her think of Kentucky…which made her think of Bran again.

  “That’s the glow I mean. Who’s the lucky man?”

  Now positively burning up with self-consciousness, Jenna adjusted her laptop bag on her shoulder. “I’ll see you Saturday. I plan on bringing some knitting for one of the raffles.” She checked her watch, trying not to rush the time until her dinner with Bran. “I should go visit Bobbie.”

  Sally lit up. “Oh, tell me she got the new Scarlette LaFlamme novel in!”

  Jenna grinned. Nothing like Scarlette’s next book to get Sally’s mind off tormenting Jenna about her love life. Yes! Off the hook. “I’m not sure it’s even due out until fall.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Sally turned in the office chair then crossed her long legs. “You aren’t done with your full disclosure yet, young lady.”

  Or not. “I’ve got to go,” she said, and darted out the door before her coworker could stop her.

  At Cliff Notes, Bobbie was busy with a line at the cash register, her blondish-red head bent over the stack of books on the counter. The three women at the register chattered among themselves about the possibility of buying still more books.

  Jenna spied one of her handmade afghans in a green Cliff Notes shopping bag. She hid a smile and occupied herself looking around the store until the crowd cleared out, then wandered over. “Keeping busy, I see.”

  “With the Crawl in town, I’ve almost got more than I can handle.” Bobbie tucked a lock of her too-cute, bob haircut behind her ear. “If you want a part-time job, I know where you can get one.”

  Jenna laughed. “Oh, no. I know that slippery slope. I’d be spending my paycheck on your stock.” She thumbed a few handmade metal bookmarks in a cup by the register.

  Bobbie tilted her head. Her hazel eyes lasered in on Jenna then narrowed. “What happened? Or maybe I should ask who happened?” Her lips curved upward, and a dimple appeared.

  Jenna ducked her head. “I plead the Fifth?”

  Bobbie gave a little squeal then crossed her arms on top of the counter with a thump. “Who is he? What’s he like?”

  Even her best friend could make her ears burn. Could everyone in town tell, just by looking, that Jenna had just had the most amazing night of her life?

  Apparently, Bobbie could. She flicked her fingers at Jenna, as if to say Get on with it!

  Jenna glanced at the door expecting Bran to somehow
come strolling through it to make her embarrassment complete. “He’s from Kentucky.”

  “Ooh, a fling? Good for you!”

  “It just happened. It was a moment of insanity,” Jenna confessed. “I don’t even know if it’ll happen again.”

  Bobbie’s eyes gleamed. “But you’re contemplating it.”

  Laughing, Jenna threw up her hands in surrender. “His name is Branson Cudahy.”

  “Cute? Come on, he’s cute, isn’t he? He must be gorgeous. You’re a red as a lobster.”

  “Lobster.” Jenna moaned. “He hates lobster. He’s never going to stay in Lobster Cove. This was just one night. He has a job and a life.”

  One of Bobbie’s slim eyebrows arched. Her dimple flickered again. “That’s kind of what Keen thought, too, but he’s decided to stay.”

  Jenna gasped and grabbed Bobbie’s hands. “Really? That’s great, Bobbie! I’m so happy for you!” Keen was Bobbie’s boyfriend, and the last Jenna had heard, he’d been contemplating returning to Dallas where his parents lived.

  Bobbie squeezed her hands, and her expression took on a wistful reproach. “I’m happy, too. So happy I want to spread it around. Jenna, you deserve a great guy. When do we get to meet him?”

  I’m not sure he’ll stay in town long enough for you to meet him, Jenna thought gloomily…but she didn’t say it, and she kept the smile on her face by sheer stubbornness. “Not sure. I’m meeting him for dinner at the inn, so I’d better go.”

  “Okay.” Bobbie leaned across the counter to give Jenna a hug as more customers came through the door. “See you at the Crawl.”

  “Bye,” Jenna called.

  She stepped out into the afternoon sunshine then ambled next door to the Sea Crest Inn. As she arrived at the stately old structure perched on the northern cliff of Lobster Cove, she checked her cell phone for the time. Still twenty minutes. If she went in looking for him now, she’d only seem too eager. And though she might be eager to see him again, there was still that nagging feeling of oncoming disappointment when he left Maine.

  She strolled through the garden, breathing in the heady aroma of roses, sweet pink ones and full-headed red ones, tucked in among hedges of allium and nodding bleeding-heart plants. Directly across the cove rose the stalwart Martin Lighthouse, keeping watch over the coast. The gardens at the Sea Crest Inn were a delight to the eyes and nose…and almost a diversion from her glum thoughts.

  As she walked, an apprehensive tickle darted across the back of her neck. She turned, scanning her surroundings, but saw nothing except the lush summer flowers bowing in the ocean breeze, and ten or twelve cars in the lot shared by Cliff Notes.

  Shrugging at her own jumpiness, she walked a bit farther. Everything about Bran had her in knots. He was wonderful, but it was all too new, too fast, and it would disappear just as quickly when he went home.

  She had no right to get attached to him. Certainly not after one night. One unforgettable, beautiful, extraordinary night.

  Her heart ached. She adored Bobbie, and wanted her best friend to be deliriously happy, but Jenna couldn’t help wishing that a little of that luck in love would rub off on her.

  That was the problem with being such a sentimental fool. Fools didn’t know how to avoid broken hearts. Jenna suspected she was on the road to one, whether she liked it or not. She’d tripped over the edge of that dizzying drop without even seeing the warning signs.

  Smitten.

  A long, low whistle brought her to a stop by a bed bursting with fiery red coreopsis. She pivoted to find Bran in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of neatly pressed khakis. “You look terrific, Tink,” he murmured.

  She thrust aside her gloomy thoughts and grinned. “You look…” Incredible. Sexy. Delicious like chocolate fondant on a chocolate éclair. Oh, God, I’m utterly hopeless.

  When she didn’t say anything more, he chuckled and ambled forward to lift her hand to his lips. “Thanks.”

  Standing so close to him, with the warmth of his body offsetting the cool harbor breeze, she stared into his eyes without an idea what else to say.

  “Don’t know if you’re booked after dinner,” he said, “but I looked into a boat tour through Claws and Effect. It only takes about an hour. Want to go?”

  “A boat tour,” she said, hardly registering the words.

  “Sure. I may be violently allergic to seafood, but I’m not a complete landlubber.”

  For some reason, her sore heart gave a little leap. “That sounds wonderful.” Hand in hand, she walked inside with him.

  Dinner was delicious. At least, she would have bet it was. She ordered a grilled salmon she didn’t even taste, while Bran explained his allergy to the server—with adorable charm, this time—and received a peppercorn steak seared to perfection. For the entire meal, she sat across from him, half daydreaming about what the evening would bring and half dying to know more about him than the little she did. What was the elusive cyber crime that brought him to Lobster Cove? What were his loves, his hates, his dreams? If she scratched the surface of this mysterious man, would she find a Prince Charming like Bobbie’s Keen, or would the reality fall heartbreakingly short of her wistful imaginings?

  Maybe it was all foolishness. Maybe she should be searching for someone who lived here.

  But he wouldn’t have those decadent chocolate-colored eyes. He wouldn’t have hair her fingers itched to caress. He wouldn’t be Bran.

  He also wouldn’t break her heart when he left.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” he said.

  “Just thinking about tomorrow. The Lobster Crawl’s our big summer event. It lasts for four days. I even have a quilt in the show.”

  “You talked about that before. Is that your thing? Quilts?”

  Instead of the stylish dining room of the inn, Jenna saw the empty storefront space down the street from Maggie’s. She sighed, dreaming. “I want to open a shop. Quilting, sewing notions, yarn, knitted goods…I could go on and on, but it’d probably just make your eyes cross.”

  “No,” he said. “That, I get. My grandmother was a quilter.”

  Jenna returned from her daydream to find Bran’s eyes soft, and his expression far away. Her heart squeezed. “Was?” she asked gently.

  A dimple creased his cheek, and he gave her a boyish smile. “Cookies and quilts. That was my nana.”

  Leaning forward on her elbows, Jenna propped her chin in her hands. “You miss her, huh?”

  “Yeah. I still have a couple of the quilts she made at home. You and she would’ve had a lot in common, I’m guessing.”

  The shade of melancholy in his voice tugged at Jenna’s heartstrings. “I don’t remember my grandparents. They died before I was born, or when I was still little. My family’s not as big as yours, I’m afraid.”

  “Big. Loud. Opinionated.” He hesitated then tapped his fingers against his water goblet. “They let you have it when they don’t like something you’re doing, but they’re okay.”

  She longed to ask about his job then. Any time they’d approached the subject, he deflected her curiosity. What was he doing that required such silence? What put such a guarded look in his eye? She traced the edge of her plate, listening to the lilt of muted instrumental music and the ping of silverware against plates.

  They each finished dinner with a melt-in-your mouth lemon pastry. Jenna had avoided choosing chocolate on purpose. She might have to swear off chocolate altogether after he went home, she thought gloomily.

  There was no room for gloom after that. Bran took her arm and walked her to his car for the short drive to Claws and Effect Boat Tours on the western edge of the cove. “Don’t want you to get your dress all dusty,” he said. He gave her outfit such an appreciative look that even the summer evening’s remaining warmth couldn’t match the way her body heated all over.

  The owners of the boat tour company, Robert Mathison and his chatty niece Sandra Godfrey, were charming fixtures in Lo
bster Cove. During an hour-long cruise, both Robert and Sandra regaled them with the history of the area and entertaining stories of the local wildlife. The small crowd of guests on deck and inside the window-surrounded dining cabin snapped pictures and gazed at eagles and seals.

  A pod of porpoises appeared off the starboard bow of the boat, and Jenna beamed at the boyish delight on Bran’s face. Whatever was bothering him earlier that evening disappeared at the sight of the porpoises. Her insides fluttered like the terns hovering over the water in search of fish. A crush. That’s what this is.

  When the tour was over, they drove back to the inn. Her heart lodged in her throat the whole way there. Would he ask her to stay? She longed for it and dreaded it. If he did, she knew it would be another incredible night in his arms…then, whenever he finished his business here, she’d have to say goodbye to him. She should have asked how long he planned to stay. That would have solved everything. But that was a question for before she’d invited him into her bed. Now, it would just sound needy.

  He helped her out of the car then walked her to hers. At her driver’s side door, he brought her hands to his lips and brushed a kiss across the back of each.

  A little shiver of delight passed through her. She bit her lip as if it could stop the thundering need to kiss him.

  He looked like he wanted to say something—Oh, please don’t, she begged silently—but then he tilted his head. The sunset frosted the tips of his cocoa-brown hair in reds and golds.

  “You okay, Tink? You’ve been quiet since the boat ride.”

  “Yeah. I should go. Lots to do in the morning, and I still have to make a last-minute trip down to Bar Harbor. Maybe I’ll see you at the Lobster Crawl tomorrow night.”

  “Sure,” he said easily, but a fine line appeared between his brows as he handed her into the car. His grip tightened briefly, a barely perceptible squeeze that made her heartbeat stutter, and then he let her go.

  Jenna started her temperamental sedan on the second try. She pulled out of the lot with an awful ache in her chest. As she passed the painted sign for the inn and bookstore, then started down the road, another tickle of awareness fluttered across the back of her neck.