He had an inch or two on my six-foot frame and probably twenty extra pounds of bulky muscle, but it took much more than brawn to intimidate me. Even on days like today, when the world was spinning the wrong way.
With my hand still extended between us, I met Jackson’s stare. A rush of familiar confidence sped through my veins as I refused to break first.
This. This is what I’d needed all day. A chance to put on the face I wore into intense negotiations. A chance to prove I couldn’t be bested. A chance to be the powerful man I was in the city. This guy didn’t know it, but he was doing me a huge favor by being an asshole.
I returned Jackson’s fiery glare with ice. To his credit, he lasted longer than most. But when he began shifting his weight from one foot to the other, I knew I’d won.
He dropped his arms and held out a meaty paw.
We shook, both of us squeezing harder than necessary, until he released me and I dropped my arm. The muscles in my shoulder burned a bit from holding out for so long.
“That was interesting.” Hazel smirked. “Jackson, do me a favor. Hook up that new keg of Miller Lite for me.”
“Sure.” He grunted and turned. But before he took a step, he spun back. With both hands placed on the bar, bracketing my water, he leaned forward to speak low. “I don’t care how much money you have. Hurt them and you’re dead.”
I nodded. “Understood.”
Jackson pushed off the bar, then disappeared down the hallway and out of sight.
“Don’t mind him,” Hazel said, propping a hip up against the bar. “He’s just protective of Thea.”
With one sentence, I was back on edge. Except now, my nerves were muddled with jealousy. A bitter taste spread across my tongue and I took a sip of water.
Thea had told me last night she wasn’t in a relationship, but did she have a history with Jackson? I loathed the idea of Thea with another man. My primal instincts reared up and I swallowed the urge to tell Jackson, I had her first.
But Thea wasn’t mine. I didn’t have a claim over her. Still, I liked her.
A lot.
Being with her all those years ago had been uncomplicated and freeing. Visiting with her last night in that old shed had brought it all back.
I liked how she didn’t expect anything from me. She didn’t have a hidden agenda. I liked how she quirked her eyebrow when she asked questions.
I liked that, above all else, she was a good mother. She thought about our child first and foremost.
Something I needed to do too, instead of worrying about Jackson and Thea. With another sip of water, I swallowed down my jealousy. It would likely surface again—Jackson wasn’t the only one possessive of Thea—but not today.
“I’m not here to hurt Thea or Charlie,” I told Hazel.
“I know that,” she said, getting her own glass of water. “Like I said. Don’t mind Jackson. We’re all just looking out for Thea.”
My spine stiffened. What had happened in Thea’s life that she had such fierce protectors? Was it her childhood? Or a man? Could she, or my daughter, be in danger?
“Is there something I should know? She’s not in trouble, is she?” Because whatever the problem, I’d make it disappear.
“No.” Hazel shook her head. “She’s not in trouble. But Thea has spent her whole life fighting. Don’t make her fight you.”
“Why would she need to fight me?”
She sipped her water. “For Charlie.”
“Ah. I see.” Everyone here was worried I would start a custody battle. “I won’t take Charlie from Thea. I told her the same last night.”
“Good.” Hazel nodded. “Don’t get me wrong. If you do want a fight, my money is on Thea. You might have a bigger bank account, but that woman is fierce. She’ll wipe the floor with you if it’s for Charlie. But she’s fought enough.”
She’s fought enough? What did that mean? My concern for Thea grew with every one of Hazel’s vague hints. A litany of questions ran through my mind, but they would go unanswered. There would be no prying information from Hazel Rhodes. She might be here, talking to me, but her loyalties were clear.
If I wanted to learn about Thea’s past, I wouldn’t get those secrets from Hazel.
“Who are you, exactly?”
She laughed, her hoarse bark ringing through the air. “I’m Charlie’s gran. And the closest thing to a mother Thea’s ever had.”
“So you look out for Thea?”
“And Charlie.”
Charlie.
“What’s she like? Charlie?”
“She’s a sparkle.” Hazel’s face softened. “Her smile is the best part of my day. You’ll see.” She glanced over her shoulder to the clock on the wall. “Want something stronger before you head over?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
“Smart man.”
Jackson came back into the room at that moment and shot me another glare before resuming his conversation with the customers at the other end of the bar. When I turned back to Hazel, she was walking around the end of the bar to sit by my side.
“I think you should post more photos on your Facebook page,” Hazel announced as the legs of her stool scraped on the floor.
“Excuse me?”
“Your Facebook page.” She set down a paper boat of peanuts between us. “You don’t have many photos.”
I blinked at her. Where was she going with this? “I don’t manage that page. My assistant does.”
“Hmm.” She cracked a peanut shell and tossed it on the floor. “Tell your assistant that people like to see pictures.”
I chuckled, amused that in the last twenty-four hours, Hazel had clearly spent some time looking me up. “I’ll send him a note.”
Her peanut cracking continued, though she hadn’t actually eaten a nut yet. “Before you go over to Thea’s, I think I’d better come clean.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve been—what do they call it?—cyber stalking you.”
I grinned. “I don’t think it’s considered stalking if you’ve only been doing it for a day.”
“I might have known you for longer than a day.” She shied away an inch as she finished her sentence.
My smile vanished and my jaw clenched. “You might have known me longer than a day?”
Finally, Hazel ate a peanut and washed it down with her water. “We need to talk.”
Four words I hadn’t dreaded much before yesterday.
Four words that now made me crave tequila.
Thea
Everything will be fine.
This is a good thing.
Tonight will be fun.
I was sweeping the back porch, attempting to convince myself with every swish of the broom that introducing Charlie and Logan tonight was going to go well.
It wasn’t working.
Ever since Logan had walked out of my workshop last night, I’d guessed at how this would go. I’d imagined every likely scenario. None of them ended with hugs and kisses.
Logan wanted so badly for Charlie to like him. I’d seen the desperation in his eyes. It would crush him if she didn’t run into his arms and call him Daddy.
But I knew my daughter. She wasn’t as easygoing as other children. She was a thinker. She pondered change. And a life-altering one like this would take her time to accept.
She would eventually. Someday, hopefully not too far in the future, she would adore Logan. But the chances of her embracing him tonight were slim to none. If she wasn’t all smiles tonight, I didn’t want him to give up on her.
I’d been given up on more times than I could count, and I didn’t want that for my precious girl.
I poured my nerves into the broomstick, sweeping hard to clear the dust from the porch. I held it back for one last strong push but stopped the bristles midstroke. The hairs on the back of my neck stood.
There were eyes on me. I could feel them.
But the yard was empty. Hazel was at the bar to pester Jackson and make herself scarce.
Charlie wasn’t anywhere in sight, probably off in the trees to play in her fort or find some other creature to try and sneak into the house. Logan’s face popped into my mind but I dismissed it immediately. It was way too early for him to be here.
So who was looking at me?
I set aside the broom and walked down the porch steps toward the middle of the yard. I turned in a circle, looking for a neighbor close by or someone in a boat out on the lake.
There was no one.
Strange.
“Charlie!” I called loud. “Time to come inside!”
“Okay!” she called back from the trees.
I went back up to the porch, scanning the yard again as I walked. Then I shook my head, giving myself a good eye roll. The nerves for this dinner were making me crazy.
I went inside and put away the broom just as Charlie rushed inside. “Hi, Mommy,” she said, out of breath.
“Hello, my love. Did you have fun playing?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m thirsty.”
“I’ll get you some water.” I took down one of her plastic cups from the cabinet and filled it from the sink.
She gulped down the water and set the empty cup on the counter. Then she smiled up at me from underneath her favorite baseball cap.
The hat had once been black but was now faded to a dirty brown. The stitched logo for the Lark Cove Bar had started out white but that hadn’t lasted longer than a day.
Some Lark Cove parents frowned at me for letting Charlie wear a cap advertising a bar. But Jackson had given this hat to her and she adored it almost as much as her pseudo uncle. Since I was used to getting looks of disapproval, I shrugged it off and let her keep the hat.
The bill was too large, but Jackson had curved it to cover her face. And he’d cinched the back tight so it would fit around her small head. Other than those differences, it matched his own faded bar hat.
To Charlie, that was all that mattered.
“Let’s get your hat and shoes off.”
“ ‘Kay.” She used my shoulder for balance as she kicked off her tennis shoes. They were black with neon-green stripes and matching lights in the soles. She’d picked them out of the boys’ section at the shoe store. When I’d offered her the same style but in pink, she’d looked at me like I’d grown two heads.
Off came her shoes and dirt bits went flying across the scuffed hardwoods. The socks she stripped off were rimmed with dust. I didn’t know why I always bought white socks. Even bleach couldn’t keep them from turning brown.
“Okay, now let’s go wash your hands.”
“Fine.” She frowned and trudged past me in her bare feet to the half bathroom off the living room.
I followed, leaning against the door as she washed. As the water ran, I took a few calming breaths, reassuring myself with each one.
She would get through this. We both would. We’d find a way to work Logan into our lives.
This is a good thing.
With her hands kind of clean, Charlie shut off the water. Her cuticles were still dirty, but that was normal. I’d bought a vegetable scrubber that was permanently located in the bathtub upstairs. Tonight, just like every night, I’d give her a thorough scrubbing and rejoice in her cleanliness until morning rolled around and she made a break for the yard.
“So,” I said as she dried off her hands. “I wanted to talk to you about something exciting.”
She froze. “What?”
Damn. She’d seen right through my fake, cheery voice. I should have known better than to try and spin this as an exciting surprise. Most kids loved surprises, but not my Charlie. She hated them almost as much as cleanliness.
So I dropped the act and walked over to one of the couches in the living room. “Come and sit with me.”
“Are you going to make me get rid of my fort?” Her forehead was creased with worry as she climbed up next to me on the sofa.
The last time I’d had a sit-down talk with her, I’d told her that I was going to be taking down the makeshift tree house she’d constructed out of cardboard boxes and duct tape. She’d cried over it for days until Jackson had come over and built her a tiny fort between two trees.
It was her sanctuary. While I escaped to my workshop, she ran to her fort to doctor animals or fight bad guys or hide away from monsters.
“No, honey. You can keep your fort.”
Her entire body relaxed as she sank into my side.
“I want to talk to you about something else.”
“Something good?”
“Yeah. Something great.” I wiped at a smudge of dirt on her forehead.
No matter how scuffed she was, my Charlie was gorgeous. Her hair was long and thick, a shade closer to Logan’s than my own. She had beautiful skin that was always bright and flawless. And her dark eyelashes were like mine. She’d only ever need one swipe of mascara.
“I want to talk about your dad.”
“My dad?”
I nodded. “Remember how I told you about him and drew you a picture? That his name is Logan and he lives far away?”
She sat still, waiting for me to continue. While most kids were a million questions a minute at this age, Charlie was the opposite. She soaked things in. She absorbed. The questions came later.
“Well, he’s here, and he wants to meet you.”
She blinked her big brown eyes.
“I told him he could come over for dinner tonight.”
Her eyebrows came together and she dropped her gaze to her lap.
There was a woodpecker outside, hammering into a tree. The sound echoed outside and funneled through the kitchen window I’d left open, hoping for a slight breeze to cool down the house.
As I waited for Charlie to say something, I listened to that woodpecker’s unsteady rhythm. It went on and on and on. Meanwhile, she just kept mulling things over while the tap, tap, tap continued. That woodpecker must be trying to knock down the tree, not just build a new home.
Shut up, bird.
I wanted to get up and shut the window, but with Charlie deep in thought, I didn’t dare leave. I wanted her to know if she needed me, that I was here.
I’d always be here.
I was the constant she’d have in her life, no matter what.
“Is he nice?” Charlie asked finally.
Her voice was quiet and soft. She wasn’t a loud child, nothing compared to the other twelve kids on her soccer team, but right now, she was borderline hard to hear.
“Yeah.” I smiled. “He’s nice.”
“Is he going to live here now?”
I shook my head. “No. He still lives far away.”
Her forehead creased. “Do I have to live with him too? Like how Katie spends some days with her mommy and others with her daddy?”
I wanted to say no. I wanted to promise that her life wouldn’t change too much. But I’d always been honest with my daughter. And I’d tried to never make promises I couldn’t keep.
So as brutal as it was for her age, I went with the truth. “I don’t know yet, honey.”
“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to move.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I know.”
We held each other for a few quiet moments. Even the woodpecker gave us some peace. But when he started up with the taps again, Charlie pulled away.
“Can I go play outside some more?”
“Sure.” I sighed, hating that I’d put a burden on her young mind. “Just stay in the yard.”
She nodded and slid off the couch, going straight to the door without any shoes.
Her feet would be filthy by the time I called her inside for dinner.
I didn’t care.
I let her escape to her sanctuary while I got off the couch to make dinner.
I rummaged through our square kitchen for a pan to brown some hamburger and a pot to boil water. I wasn’t a gourmet cook, but my food was delicious, if simple.
“This is a good thing,” I told the pot as
it sat under the running faucet.
Even the damn cookware knew I was lying.
An hour later, at exactly six o’clock according to the microwave clock, the doorbell chimed. I took a slow breath and wiped my clammy hands on a dish towel before rushing from the kitchen through the living room to greet Logan at the door.
He smiled when he spotted me through the small glass window in the door, and my stomach dipped.
That smile was devastating. I bet he’d charmed many uptown socialites with that smile.
He was in jeans again, but this time they were paired with a simple blue button-up shirt, the sleeves turned up to reveal his forearms.
“Hey,” I breathed as I swung open the door.
“Hi.” He smiled wider and ducked inside, handing me a bouquet of baby sunflowers as he passed. “These are for Charlie. I, uh, didn’t know what else to get.”
“Thank you,” I said as I took the flowers. “She’ll love them.”
My hopes lifted as I took in the yellow blooms. Maybe this would go better than I’d thought. After all, he’d unknowingly bought Charlie her favorite flower.
She loved sunflowers because the birds could eat the seeds. Every fall, we’d buy a huge bundle and she’d place them strategically throughout the yard as makeshift bird feeders.
Maybe Logan and Charlie would connect immediately and all of my worries would be for nothing.
“And these are for you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small bundle of spoons. “In case you run out before your project is over.”
I laughed as he handed them over. “Thank you.”
These spoons were twice as thick as the industrial-grade spoons I had in the workshop. You’d never find these in a school lunchroom or hospital cafeteria. They were nicer than the spoons I had in my own kitchen drawer.
“Come on in. Make yourself at home.”
Logan walked into the living room and looked around.
The cottage was the nicest home I’d ever had, but now it seemed too small and too common. Having Logan here, just like having him in my workshop last night, was a harsh reminder that he was from a different stratosphere.
Take Me To The Beach Page 124