Claim Me Now (Heron Harbor Book 2)

by Lea Nolan

  “I’m sure I did. Hang on.” There was tapping, no doubt Lark accessing the beach house booking site. While Raven waited to be proven right, she practiced her deep breathing. Finally, Lark said, “Uh, I don’t know how to explain this, but um, the booking isn’t there.”

  Raven rubbed her temple. “Exactly what I said.”

  “Oops?” Lark offered a feeble laugh.

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “No, you’re right. It’s not. I mean, if he were a total stranger, we’d have a real problem on our hands, but it’s Jack, so it’s different. We can laugh about it.”

  “He is a total stranger to me. And he found me in my underwear.”

  “Oh.”

  “And we kissed.”

  “Ooh, how did that happen?”

  “I’m not sure. I think I attacked him in the middle of a sex dream.”

  “Wow. Okay. So clearly, your energy’s way out of balance. Should I ask my Reiki master to send you an energy healing?”

  Raven groaned. “No. I was drunk. I’m still a little drunk, actually.”

  “You’re drunk? Holy shit, Rae, what the hell is going on?”

  “Listen, that is not your problem, okay? Your problem is the giant dude standing in the living room.”

  “He’s not a problem. Jack’s a great guy.”

  “How can you possibly know that? You don’t stay anywhere long enough to know anyone.”

  “Hey, I move around a lot, but I get to know plenty of people. I’ve known Jack for three years. He’s a part of my New York City artist group.”

  Raven sighed. “Oh God, another artist.” Though that didn’t square with his amazing suit. Unless he was that one in a million artist who made a ton of cash selling his work.

  “Please, no. He’s a numbers and money guy. An efficiency expert or something.”

  “I don’t understand. How is he part of an artist group if he’s not an artist?”

  “He’s good friends with Andre Charles, an art appraiser and a great painter in his own right. I’ve known Andre for years. Whenever I’m in town, Andre and Jack and a bunch of other friends always get together.”

  Raven imagined Lark driving her little RV into New York and trying to find a place to park it. That was probably as entertaining as any of her exhibits.

  “He’s a good guy. He’s helped me out when I needed him.”

  “With what?”

  “Business stuff.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me?” She wasn’t going to lie. That hurt. How could Lark go to a stranger when her sister was right there?

  “I wanted to do it on my own.”

  “But you didn’t. You went to him when I literally have a master’s degree in business.”

  “Look, I don’t want to argue. My point is, Jack was there for me when I was in a tough spot. You can trust him.”

  “It sounds like you two have done a whole lot more than hanging out at a few art parties.”

  “We’ve had a few dinners together, but nothing ever happened. I told you. He’s a numbers guy. Totally not my type. You two have much more in common.”

  “I don’t care if we’re soulmates. I don’t want him staying at the beach house. I came here to be alone.”

  “Now I know you’re in trouble. The Raven I know is always on the lookout for someone to boink.”

  Ugh. Lark was using Raven’s favorite joking expression for fun, mindless sex against her.

  “Please, Lark, I’m not in the mood.”

  Lark huffed out a laugh. “For sex? Are you kidding me?”

  “No, for joking around. It’s been a bad day.”

  “What happened?” Lark’s tone softened.

  “Nothing,” Raven said, a little too quickly.

  Lark sighed. “You’re lying. But I learned a long time ago I can’t force you to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? They were sisters. They told each other everything. Well, almost everything. Lark and Wren usually spilled their guts about everything. Raven was the one with the dark, long-held secret.

  Except Lark apparently had some sort of clandestine business arrangement with Jack. That alone made Raven disinclined to like him.

  “Look, I need to get this guy out of here,” Raven snapped.

  “I don’t see what we can do. I rented the house to him, and he paid for it. Hey, why don’t you go stay at Wren’s house?”

  Raven groaned. “And watch them hang all over each other? No thanks.” Wren and Smith’s house was the last place she wanted to be. They’d only just moved in together. Their love and affection were palpable, which was great for them, but a little claustrophobic for everyone else.

  Besides, she wouldn’t feel comfortable in their house. Although Wren had spent the last couple of months redecorating, the house was Smith’s, much of it built with his own hands. It couldn’t possibly feel as safe a haven as the Donovan’s beach house.

  “Then I’m out of ideas. I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, he’s super-hot.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

  “He’s not dating anyone right now.”

  “Also not helpful. I’ll deal with this on my own. You owe me a million favors for this one.” Raven ended the call, then drew several deep breaths and readjusted her afghan to steel herself to face Jack again. It didn’t matter that he’d been correct about his reservation. She had just as much right to be there, too.

  She opened the French doors to the study, then swept down the hall and into the living room. Jack was seated in an armchair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and his chin propped in one hand.

  “Well?” he asked, one brow hiked.

  She handed him his cell phone. “It appears there was a mix-up on Lark’s end with the reservation schedule.”

  “Meaning?” his voice was low.

  “She rented you the house but didn’t record it on the schedule. When I looked to see if the house was booked—”

  “It appeared free.”

  Raven nodded. “Exactly.”

  “So, what happens now?”

  “Obviously, this is an untenable situation. We both expected a solitary weekend, and I see no reason to change that. I’m happy to offer you a full refund plus ten percent. Although it’s late, I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a bed-and-breakfast on the island or a hotel room on the mainland tonight.”

  Jack didn’t move, except for the slight narrowing of his eyelids. “Lady, I’ve just driven three and a half hours through rainstorms and traffic jams to get to this specific house that your sister raved about. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s pouring. I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

  Raven stared at him long and hard. She didn’t want to give in, but she knew a losing argument when she saw one. He had a paid reservation, it was late, and he was probably correct about the weather, too.

  Damn him. Lark had better be right about him being a nice guy. If he murdered Raven during the night, it’d be Lark’s fault.

  Thrusting her chin out, Raven projected her former Executive VP confidence. She might have lost this round, but tomorrow was a new day. She wouldn’t fail. His ultra-fine ass would be kicked to the curb before noon.

  “Fine. My bedroom is the third room on the left on the second floor. You can use any of the others. We’ll sort this out in the morning.” Maintaining as much dignity as possible, she collected her blouse, skirt, and stilettos, and went to bed.

  Raven followed the scent of rich coffee to the kitchen and found a hulking man sitting at the breakfast table, reading his tablet.

  Oh, hell. It really had happened.

  She’d hoped her memories of the previous night had been the result of an alcohol-soaked hallucination.

  Details emerged from her foggy memory. Her grasping hold of Jack’s face, then kissing him like she was drowning, and he was her last gasp of air. A kiss so hot, she’d practically begged him to take her right there on the sofa. The
shock of him slamming on the brakes, then realizing she hadn’t been dreaming after all. And she had called him Mr. Perfect.

  How humiliating.

  There was one thing Raven’s memory hadn’t quite captured, though. Last night, even though she’d been drunk, she’d registered that he was handsome. But now, seeing him bathed in the crisp November light streaming through the kitchen window, there was no other word for it.

  Jack Baines was sublime. So much so, it almost hurt to look at him. But like any natural wonder, it was also hard to look away.

  As if he felt the weight of Raven’s stare, Jack glanced up from the screen and offered a small smile. “Morning, sunshine.” He’d ditched his fancy suit and wore jeans and a black crew neck sweater over a black T-shirt.

  She winced at the deep resonance of his voice as it ricocheted off the inside of her skull. “Morning.” She filled a glass with water at the filter in the fridge, then threw two pain pills down her throat.

  “Hangover?” he asked.

  Raven swallowed a large gulp, then pinched her forefinger and thumb together. “Little bit.” She felt about as good as she looked in her rumpled pajamas and hastily rubber-banded bed head.

  Jack offered a sympathetic nod. “Tequila will do that.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” She spotted a French press, grinder, and package of dark, Italian espresso beans. Her insides melted. He’d brought the good stuff, imported from Italy.

  Raven flashed back to the first time she’d tasted Lavazza. Raven and her roommate, Lexi Ellington, were in the same master’s program. The courses challenged Raven, but Lexi found them nearly impossible. The only way Raven got her to stick it through was to promise that when they survived the program, they’d celebrate with a trip to Europe.

  After two years of late nights cramming for exams and writing papers, they jetted off. It was the first time Raven had gone anywhere besides school without her father or sisters, and the first real break she’d taken for herself. It was amazing. Even now, she could recall sitting in that piazza in Milan, sipping espresso and watching people go by, feeling truly free.

  There were very few things Raven wouldn’t do right now for a demitasse of that magic elixir but seeing as she was about to kick Jack out of her house, asking for even a few ounces was probably bad form.

  “Want some?” Jack asked.

  “Is it that obvious?” She was probably drooling like a dog eyeing a rack of barbecue ribs.

  One corner of his mouth bent upward. “Yes.” He grabbed a mug from the cabinet, then poured the press until the mug was nearly full. “How do you take it?”

  “A touch of milk.”

  “This is strong stuff. You might want some sugar, too.”

  She smiled. “I know what it tastes like.”

  He shrugged and handed her the mug. “Suit yourself.”

  Raven held the coffee to her nose and closed her eyes as she inhaled its rich scent. Suddenly she was back at the piazza, twenty and flirting with pretty ragazzi. It was more than a decade ago yet seemed like a lifetime.

  She turned back to the table and was surprised to see that Jack had set out a spoon, napkin, and the milk directly opposite him. Pausing for a moment, she stared at the set-up and its thoughtfulness. He’d anticipated everything she’d need to enjoy a perfect cup of coffee. Raven couldn’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t a waiter had done that for her.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Uh, yeah.” She eased into her chair and felt the weight of his gaze as she poured the milk, then swirled it into the dark, black liquid. When it was perfect, she took a sip.

  “Not too dark?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  He shook his head. “I drink it sweet, the way the Italians do.”

  Raven glanced over the rim of her mug. “I don’t use refined sugar.”

  He laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. Why?”

  “What do you call that shrine to diabetes?” He gestured his thumb over his shoulder toward the pile of candy on the counter across the kitchen. The torn box of Tinks sat atop the unopened strawberry licorice vines, a testament to her weakness.

  Shit. Her stomach squeezed. She’d caved and eaten one of those nasty little things. And worse, she barely remembered what it tasted like.

  She drew a deep breath. Today was a new day. A clean slate. She’d do better. Be better.

  Raven forced a steely smile. “Oh. That. It was . . . uncharacteristic.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Really.” She took another sip.

  “Like the tequila was uncharacteristic?” Jack asked.

  “Pretty much.” Raven swallowed the coffee and focused on the taste as it slipped over her tongue. It was so much better than the domestic, so-called gourmet brand she grabbed each morning on her way to work.

  Coffee this good shouldn’t be a once in a while luxury. It should be a necessity to start the day right. But coffee like this took time and effort to brew, and she’d had other priorities. Which was so dumb. At most, she’d have to wake up, what, ten minutes earlier to press it? The fact that that seemed like too much effort showed how little she’d been doing to care for herself. That needed to change.

  An awful, ironic realization struck. Now that she was unemployed, she’d have plenty of time to brew as much coffee as she’d like. Her last sip turned bitter. Suddenly, she didn’t want any more. She placed the mug on the table and sat back.

  “Wanna talk about it?” Jack asked uncomfortably. The expression on his face screamed that he very much didn’t want to talk about it.

  Not that she blamed him. He didn’t know the first thing about her. He was probably scared that her tequila binge and candy mountain resulted from an epic PMS attack or being dumped by some asshole ex.

  If Jack got a glimpse of the intensity of emotion that had sent her diving into that tequila and box of Tinks, he’d run screaming for cover.

  Raven hadn’t just lost her livelihood—she’d lost control of the company she’d worked so hard to save. She’d failed not only herself, but her boss, and the men before him who’d built the company and had expected it to stay in the family’s hands. She’d been blindsided by Tiffany and her new, anonymous “partner.” The anger and sadness that swelled in Raven’s chest were overwhelming, but it didn’t compare to the disappointment she felt in herself.

  So she was grateful that Jack didn’t want her to share her feelings because if she did, they would probably break her.

  Raven shook her head. “Nope.”

  Relief flooded over Jack’s handsome face. “Anything you do want to talk about?”

  Definitely not that you saw me half-naked. Or that mind-bending kiss.

  Raven forced those thoughts from her mind and painted on a bright smile. “Finding you a new place to stay.”

  He stared, stone-faced. “I thought we settled that last night. I paid for a solitary long weekend in this beach house.”

  “And I offered to make it worth your while to stay—alone—somewhere else.”

  “You offered ten percent above the rental. That’s peanuts.”

  “I can go higher.” If he wanted to negotiate, he had no idea who he was up against.

  He laughed. “I doubt you have enough to pay me off.” Raven’s palm burned to slap the condescending grin from his face. She might look young and inexperienced, but she wasn’t, and her bank account proved it. “Don’t be so sure. Besides, I don’t have to pay you anything. Your reservation was never entered into the scheduling system, so as far as the rental company is concerned, it never existed.”

  “But you know it did. You saw Lark’s email.”

  “Sure, after I was already here first. And possession is nine-tenths of the law. You’re not the only one who needs a weekend to themselves.”

  Jack stared at her for a moment. She imagined tiny wheels churning in his head. “Hey, I get it. Being alone is sometimes the only way to process our shit. Here’s an
idea: Why don’t you find a place and you stay in it?”

  Raven scoffed. “This is my house.”

  “Which I’ve rented. See, we can go around and around all day.” He twirled his long finger in a circle. When all he got in response was her unimpressed resting bitch face, he tried another tack. “How is Lark going to respond when she finds out you broke my deal with her?”

  “Trust me. Deals are broken every day. Even by family members.”

  Just ask Billy Paulson. Oh wait, he was too busy pulling knives from his back to respond.

  Raven had to admit that Lark would probably be angry—at first. But once Raven confessed why she’d come to Heron Harbor Island on such short notice, Lark would understand Raven’s need for a safe harbor this weekend. She might live in Philly, but the beach house was her home. Because she moved so frequently, she never took the time to settle into an apartment. So her place in Philadelphia was small, sterile, and barely lived in. Not the location to soothe a wounded soul.

  “My sister will get over it.”

  “Then it seems we’re at an impasse.” Jack’s eyes met Raven’s. His warm, dark gaze reached right into her, making her stomach tighten.

  Last night’s kiss flashed across her mind, stirring the same desire that’d driven her to grab hold of him and suck his face. She could hardly be blamed. He’d been looming over her, looking so good, and smelling delicious like sandalwood and citrus, and his lips were so inviting, she couldn’t help herself.

  Now, he was looking at her with those same chocolate pudding eyes, resting his arms on the table and leaning in toward her. But what really sank the dagger in her heart was the little grin he flashed, revealing his perfect white teeth and a sexy little dimple just to the left of his smile.

  Oh, hell no. This handsome, hot-as-Hades man was trying to dazzle her into giving up her spot in her own damn house. Well, he had another think coming. She’d resisted the charms of plenty of men, though none quite as good-looking as Jack. He might look like a Greek god, but he was still mortal. And he had to deal with rejection just like everyone else.

  Raven stiffened her back and pried herself loose from his gaze. “I’m making some calls. To find you a place to stay.” Raven pulled her cell from the back pocket of her jeans.