by Zoe Chant
She strode forward, and tried to hook her fingers under the frame. It didn’t move. Lainie stepped back, frowning.
“It’s attached to the wall. Damn it! This stupid, stupid house!”
She opened her mouth to say more, wheezed, and broke into a coughing fit. Harrison rushed to her, putting his hand around her shoulders.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” she muttered, but she leaned into his embrace, her shoulders shaking. She fumbled for her purse and her light blinked out as she rummaged through it and found a packet of tissues.
“It’s all this dust…” she croaked, and burst into tears.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LAINIE
Oh, God. What are you doing? Stop crying! Of all the stupid things…
Harrison had noticed. Of course he had. She could tell the moment he realized her sniffs had changed from dust allergies to sobs: his arms went stiff, and he pulled away from her, almost imperceptibly.
He tried to gather her in his arms a moment later, but the damage was done.
Lainie pulled away from him. “Don’t. Please. I’m fine. It’s just the dust, really.”
Which is a lie, but I’m not going to admit that to my one-night stand. Even if he did turn out to be the guy I hired to evaluate my grandparents’ house. Especially because of that.
She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m fine. Can we look at the rest of the house? Just quickly?”
She didn’t meet Harrison’s eyes. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she saw concern in them.
Probably cry some more, she thought bitterly. God, this is so pathetic. I hate it so much. Crying doesn’t help anything, so why does my stupid body keep doing it?
“Of course,” Harrison said softly. He aimed his flashlight at the door, and offered her his arm. She took it, telling herself it was just because she didn’t want to trip and fall on anything in the dark.
He didn’t mention her outburst as they ventured around the rest of the house. Lainie was glad. Despite all her preparation, looking around the old rooms was harder than she had expected.
It wasn’t all bad, after all, she thought. Most of the time I spend here was wonderful. It was just those last few days that it hurts to remember. Before that…
It was easy to fall into memories, walking around the familiar rooms. Here was the kitchen, where she’d shared meals with her parents and grandparents, or bothered her Gran while she was baking. The front hall—those wooden floorboards had once been polished so smooth she could slide around on them in her socks. After riding down the banister of the main staircase, for instance.
Then there was the old lighthouse. Lainie remembered thinking it looked like a wizard had teleported it into the middle of her grandparents’ wooden house. No one had ever painted or papered over its white walls to make them match the rest of the house.
And climbing up the staircase inside it was like stepping into another world, Lainie remembered. The thick walls insulated the old lighthouse from the creaks and groans of the wooden house.
And the shouting. Lainie remembered that.
Harrison stopped her as she made for the stairs. “I don’t think that would be safe,” he said. “The boards down here are bad enough. I don’t want either of us falling through the floor. You, especially.” He moved his hand to the small of her back and whispered conspiratorially, “I haven’t even had my breakfast yet. I’m afraid I’m not up for any heroics on an empty stomach.”
Lainie smiled. She couldn’t help it. “All right,” she said. “Let’s leave all this behind us and get back to your office to figure out the next step.”
She hadn’t noticed the floor creaking before—just the dust carpeting it—but she did now. By the time they made it to the front door, she was more than happy to see the back of the crumbling house.
Outside, the sun was shining, but the air was still crisp. Lainie breathed in deep, imagining she was cleansing the dust out of her lungs with the fresh salt air.
Well, that was useless. The storage unit, the house—I haven’t found anything that could help.
I just have to face up to it. There’s only one way for me to get out of this mess.
“Right,” she said once they’d both dusted themselves off. “I think it’s pretty clear we’ll have to knock the whole thing down.”
“Knock it down?” Harrison looked genuinely shocked, and Lainie frowned at him, puzzled.
“Yes, knock it down.” She stared at him. “Look, I work in planning, so I know how this is going to go. There’s no way I’ll be able to pay you to fix up the building to sell and make any profit on it at all. The renovation costs would suck up any revenue.” She sighed, and wiped her face with a fresh tissue. It came away grey with dust. “Ugh. The land is probably worth more without the building on it, anyway. I’ll have to check a couple of databases—I couldn’t find any recent sales data for this region, it’s like no one has moved here in years.”
She stopped. Harrison wasn’t looking reassured by her explanation. She knew she was rambling, but she was making sense, wasn’t she? So why did he look like he was going to be sick?
“What’s wrong?” she said, her voice faltering.
Harrison’s face cleared—or maybe he just got control of it. He gave her a weak smile, but she couldn’t miss the line that formed between his eyebrows. He was acting like everything was okay, but clearly she’d done something wrong.
“It’s nothing,” he said, as though that was the truth. “I didn’t realize you were wanting to sell, is all.”
Lainie shrugged tightly. “Wanting has nothing to do with it. I just have to do the best I can with a bad situation.”
She clamped her mouth shut. And that’s all you need to know about that, she thought fiercely. I’m not having my sob story make its way around town.
She knew she wasn’t being fair, assuming Harrison would gossip about her situation. But she knew how easy it was for one person to let slip a few details to someone who passed them on, in confidence, to someone else… and then somehow everyone knew what was going on.
“You can give me a quote for demolition, right?” she said, her voice sharper than she’d intended.
Harrison’s shoulders stiffened. “Yes. But not based on just what we saw today. I’ll need the plans for the house, if they exist, and info on any recent renovations. Asbestos, any supporting walls removed, that sort of thing. I can do the tests myself if you don’t have the paperwork.” His voice was flat.
“I’ll email you copies of everything I’ve got,” Lainie said. Her mind felt full of cotton wool. She thought she had some of the things she’d mentioned—but all of them? She needed to get back to her files and check. “If you can’t give me the quote now, can you drop me back at by B&B? I need to… there’s some things I need to look after,” she finished lamely.
So much for her plans to leave late today. Harrison looked like the last thing in the world he wanted was to spend more time with her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HARRISON
Harrison spent the entire drive back down the town trying to find the right thing to say, and terrified he’d say the wrong thing, and mess things up even more.
So he said nothing. He concentrated on the bumpy road, trying to avoid as many potholes as possible. He kept an eye on the horizon, where dark clouds were brewing, and made a mental note to check that Arlo’s boat was in the marina. All the while, a bitter premonition boiled inside him.
He didn’t know what Lainie’s situation was, but whatever it was, she was about to discover it was a whole lot worse. Sell the land? If that was what she was planning, things were going to get tricky.
Harrison sighed. He couldn’t keep this from her. His feelings for her, the fact that she was his mate—that could wait. What was important was keeping her safe.
“Lainie, there’s something you need to know about Hideaway—”
Harrison was so busy trying to make sure his words came out right, that he almost missed the man
who stepped out in front of his truck, waving. He stomped on the break, swearing in surprise.
“Jesus, Guts, what are you playing at—roadkill?”
Guts was a permanently sunburned man in his mid-fifties. Harrison had always found it hard to believe he was related to fashion-plate Jools and her siblings, but he was their uncle. Even his gull form looked like it’d had one too many.
Guts came around Harrison’s side of the car. He gave Lainie a polite nod, then beckoned Harrison to lean down. Harrison wound down his window and stuck his head out.
“What’s got your tail feathers in a twist, Guts?”
Guts’ eyes darted to either side. “Everyone’s down at Caro’s. They want to talk to your girlfriend. Er, Ms. Eaves.” He leaned in closer and whispered, “She is your girlfriend, right?”
Harrison glared at him. “What do you mean, everyone wants to talk to Ms. Eaves?” The hairs on his arms prickled, the only visible sign that inside him, his griffin was puffing out its feathers defensively.
He’d warned everyone ahead of time that they should expect a human visitor, of course, but no one had said anything about wanting to meet Lainie when she was here.
Guts ducked his head guiltily. “It’s the Sweets, and their lot,” he muttered.
“Can we go, please?” said Lainie from behind him, her voice tense. “I still need to get those files to you.”
Her voice was steady, but sounded brittle. Harrison remembered how quickly she’d gone to pieces before, and how annoyed she’d seemed by her own distress. His heart twisted as he realized how scared she must be that anyone would see how distressed the old house had made her.
All those years away from Hideaway must have hurt so much, her only defense had been to build walls around her feelings. Alone.
Well, not any more. She was his mate, and Harrison would do everything in his power to protect Lainie from whatever it was that was causing her pain.
“Guts here says some people from the town council want to talk to you,” he explained. “I don’t know what they’re after—”
“They want to talk about the old Eaves place,” Guts interjected helpfully.
“Thanks, Guts,” said Harrison, not looking away from Lainie. He cursed silently. Of course they do. Just what she needs.
He glanced up the road. Caro’s was only ten or twenty feet away. Guts had left his warning a bit late—if he meant it as a warning.
“You don’t have to see them if you don’t want to, Lainie.”
Lainie’s face went tense. She kept her eyes on the dashboard, but Harrison still saw how the corner of her mouth folded under. She took a deep breath.
“Fine. I’ll talk to them.” She rubbed her face, then hesitated. “Just give me a few minutes to do my face before we go in?”
Harrison waited outside the truck as Lainie tidied herself up. When she was ready, he opened the door for her. Her mouth was still stuck in that unhappy line.
He offered her his arm, and she stared at him. “You don’t have to—look, I know you’re not happy about the property being sold. You don’t have to look after me.”
Her voice was firm, but her eyes begged him to stay. Harrison squeezed her arm.
“I want to,” he said simply. “You’re one mysterious lady, Lainie Eaves. I might not know what’s going on with you, but I know I’m not going to let you go in there and get the Sweets once-over without backup.”
“Thanks, Harrison. That—that means a lot to me,” she muttered. She took a deep breath and blew her cheeks out. “Okay. Let’s do this. And afterwards, do you want to come back to the B&B and finish what you were saying before your friend stopped us?”
She said that last bit all in a rush, her eyes darting nervously up to meet Harrison’s. He smiled and touched her hand.
“Of course. I’d love that,” Harrison reassured her. And I’m sure you’ll have a hell of a lot of questions, after even a quick conversation with Mrs. Sweets.
***
Caro’s was strangely empty. Normally at this time of day it would be packed, as the fishing boats all came back in and spilled their crews onto the marina in search of a hot lunch. But today, only one table had people sitting at it.
Mr. and Mrs. Sweets and their cronies looked out of place in the homey pub, though Harrison had seen them all here before. Maybe it was the way they were holding themselves: on edge, like they were all waiting for something to happen. Mrs. Sweets’ eyes widened with genteel excitement as Harrison and Lainie walked in.
To Harrison’s surprise, Arlo was there, too. Among the clean-cut councilors and business-owners he stuck out like a sore thumb, with his unruly black hair and thick dark stubble. His piercing blue eyes met Harrison’s.
*Watch out. I don’t know what they’re planning, but Mrs. Sweets has that look in her eye.*
*Like she’s just seen a canoe of tasty tourists floating down the river?*
*That’s the one.*
Harrison drew Lainie closer to his side. She glanced up at him, questioning, but he didn’t have time to say anything.
“You must be Lainie Eaves.” Mrs. Sweets rose from her chair like a leviathan from the depths. “My, you’ve grown! I can’t tell you how happy we all are to see you again.”
Mrs. Sweets was five-foot-nothing, on the far side of sixty, and no one ever saw her human form in anything but a twinset and pearls. She bared her set of even, pearly white teeth in a welcoming smile as she approached Lainie and Harrison.
Harrison wondered if Lainie would notice the one strange thing about the councilwoman’s expression: she was smiling, but her teeth didn’t quite meet.
Ready to bite, he thought uncharitably.
“Mrs. Sweets,” Lainie said steadily. “Yes. I think I remember you.” She leaned almost imperceptibly toward Harrison, and he put his arm around her waist.
“And young Harrison! Imagine seeing you here,” Mrs. Sweets said, her bright eyes wide and innocent. “Well, I’m sure Caro can find you a bite to eat, if you’ll just wait on the terrace for us to finish…”
“I’ll stay with Lainie, if it’s all the same,” Harrison replied flatly. There was only one spare seat, at the foot of the table. He ushered Lainie into it and stood behind her, one hand placed on her shoulder. On guard.
Mrs. Sweets tutted at him, but her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She sniffed and sat down at the head of the table, folding her hands in front of herself.
“Now, I’m sure you realize why we all wanted to talk to you, dear,” Mrs. Sweets began.
“I’m afraid not,” said Lainie hesitantly. “I’m not even sure who most of you are, actually…?”
Mrs. Sweets gave her tinkly laugh. “Oh, dear, I don’t expect you to remember us!” She went on, breezily failing to introduce anyone. “Now, dear. We were all so distressed to hear of your grandmother’s passing. She and your grandfather were such good people. Truly pillars of the community here in little Hideaway Cove. He was Mayor, once, you know, such a good man. We are all simply dying to know—what are you planning to do with your inheritance?”
She slipped the question in like a needle. Harrison squeezed Lainie’s shoulder reassuringly.
“My inheritance?” Lainie’s voice was flat.
“The house, dear, on Lighthouse Hill. I understand you went up there this morning with our dear Harrison?”
What would she say if Lainie announced she was going to move in? Harrison thought suddenly. He felt uneasy. Lainie was human. No one knew she was his mate yet—or not for sure, anyway. He was sure there were rumors. But nothing confirmed.
He hadn’t even told her.
What would the town council say to a human wanting to move to the shifter sanctuary of Hideaway Cove, even if she was related to an ex-inhabitant of the town?
“Yes, we did a brief inspection. There’s not much left to see,” Lainie said. “It’s strange; I know my grandmother hired someone local to maintain the house after she moved into assisted living, but the place doesn’t appear to hav
e been looked after at all. Despite the number of housekeeping invoices that have landed in my lap since the will was read.”
Harrison glanced around the table. One of Mrs. Sweets’ cronies, a plover shifter called Sharon Walbol, flushed red.
He looked down at Lainie. She sounded cool, but her smile was half-frozen on her face. He realized just how much of a strain this gauntlet was for her.
“What is it you wanted to say to Lainie, exactly?” he demanded.
Mrs. Sweets raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows at him.
“All in good time, dear.”
Beside her, Mr. Sweets roused himself at last. He was of the same vintage as his wife, but whereas she held herself ramrod-straight and kept her eyes on everyone in the room, Mr. Sweets’ bones seemed loose within his skin. And he never looked at anyone, even when he was speaking to them. As acting mayor of Hideaway Cove, he mostly played possum.
“Seventy-five thou,” he huffed, and apparently went back to sleep.
Beside Harrison, Lainie almost jumped out of her chair. “What?” she yelped.
Mrs. Sweets kept her cool, and her prehistoric smile. “My dear, surely you understand? A… city girl like you can’t possibly want to relocate to a small town like ours. And as you’ve no doubt already discovered, our town doesn’t have any real estate services. We thought it would be much easier to arrange a private sale.”
“A private sale?” Lainie relaxed back in her chair, but her eyes were still flicking suspiciously around the table. “With half the town here?” she added in an undertone to Harrison.
Harrison took in the tense angle of her shoulders. “I know it’s a bit weird, but you were planning to sell anyway, weren’t you?”
A murmur went around the table, and Harrison cursed silently. He’d barely whispered the words—but in a room full of shifters with acute hearing, he might as well have shouted.