by Zoe Chant
Mrs. Sweets’ smile became, if possible, even toothier. Hairs went up on the back of Harrison’s neck.
“You’re planning on selling the property? Well, that does seem to solve all our problems. If you will have your lawyer send the paperwork to me directly—”
“No.” Lainie’s voice was quiet, but firm. “No, that isn’t going to work. I’m sorry.”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Sweets’ hand flew to her pearls. Her smile disappeared, and the change in the old lady’s appearance was chilling. Her smile might have been predatory, but at least it was a smile; without it, she looked like a death’s head.
“Perhaps I wasn’t clear, my dear,” she purred. “I realize you have family connections in Hideaway Cove, but it is impossible that you should move here. It will not be tolerated. Really, girl, not even your grandparents wanted you here after you proved such a disappointment—why would you think things would be any different now?”
“How dare you speak to her like that,” Harrison growled, his free hand forming a fist at his side. Inside him, his griffin screeched in anger. He and it were in perfect accord: eagle, lion and human, all united in protective rage. “Lainie Eaves is my—”
“Don’t worry.” Lainie’s voice cut in under his, dripping with bitterness. “Nothing in the world could entice me to move into that broken-down old house. I’m going to sell, and leave this place behind me—but I’m sure as hell not going to part with the property for such a low sum. Seventy-five thousand dollars? That’s insulting. It wouldn’t buy the lighthouse, let alone the rest of the land!”
She stood up, shrugging off Harrison’s hand. This close, Harrison could see she was trembling. Would anybody else be able to tell? Or would they just see her anger, and not her tears?
“Lainie, I—”
She turned to him, her eyes full of angry tears. “Oh, don’t you start. You don’t want me to sell—would you prefer me to stay? After hearing that?” Her whole body was shaking with anger. “This whole thing was a mistake. I never should have come here in the first place. I’m leaving, now. You’ll hear from my lawyer about the demolition work, and you—” She turned back to Mrs. Sweets. “You will hear nothing, not from me or anyone who has anything to do with the estate.”
Without another word, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Harrison stared after her, a hole forming in his chest.
“Well,” said Mrs. Sweets behind him, sniffing. “What a catastrophe. And what a conniving, thoughtless—”
Harrison rounded on her. “Lainie Eaves is. My. Mate,” he growled. “Whatever you were about to say—don’t.”
“Ah. I had heard some disturbing whispers about that, but… you’re sure? That is unfortunate.” Mrs. Sweets was two feet shorter than Harrison, and still managed to look down her nose at him. “You have a difficult decision ahead of you, Mr. Galway. I hope you make the right choice.”
“What are you talking about?” Harrison snarled.
Mrs. Sweets brushed an invisible speck of dust from her skirt. “Dear little Lainie’s nonsense about selling off her grandparents’ property will come to nothing. It will be a nuisance, but that’s nothing new when it comes to her family!” She sniffed. “I mean, Mr. Galway, that you will have to decide between remaining in the sanctuary of Hideaway Cove—or leaving with your human.”
“I’m not going to leave Hideaway,” Harrison said automatically. Mrs. Sweets smiled.
“Then no more talk of Ms. Eaves being your mate, please. It will be better in the long run if you forget all about her.”
She swept away, gathering up her husband and cronies as she left the restaurant. None of them met Harrison’s eye.
The place was almost empty now. The only people left were Caro, wiping down the bar with a stony look on her face, and Arlo. The wolf shifter was still sitting at the table, a stricken look on his face.
“Jesus, Harrison,” he muttered.
“And what the hell are you doing here, again?” Harrison snapped at him. “Since when are you on the town council?”
Arlo glared at the table, not meeting Harrison’s eyes. “It’s not like that, Harrison. Mrs. Sweets asked me to talk to you…”
“And what? Convince me to leave Lainie—or just to roll over and listen to Mrs. Sweets insult her? Exactly whose side are you on?”
Arlo’s shoulders went up around his ears, and Harrison tried to reel in his rage. Arlo might look rough, but Harrison knew his gruff exterior hid some ancient hurt. He was a loner, had been ever since he moved to Hideaway. Intelligent, and savvy, but not comfortable around people.
“Just… think about it, Harrison,” Arlo muttered now. “Ignore that it’s Mrs. Sweets who said it. Hideaway Cove is the only place most of us have ever lived where we feel safe, and Lainie Eaves is endangering that. If she sells the property…”
“If Mrs. Sweets doesn’t sabotage the sale, you mean.”
Arlo lifted his eyes to meet Harrison’s. “Harrison, what happens to Hideaway Cove if Lighthouse Hill fills up with humans? We’ll lose everything we have here. Our safety. Our home.”
Harrison sagged. He sat down opposite Arlo and leaned his forehead on his knuckles, rolling his head back and forth to massage out a growing headache.
“No. Lainie’s a good person. If she knew what was at stake…”
“Does she even know you’re a shifter?”
The answer must have been clear on Harrison’s face. Arlo groaned. “You haven’t told her, have you?”
Harrison rubbed his face. “I need to talk to her. I have to explain everything. Damn it all, I thought I’d have time…” He stood up.
“Be careful.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“I mean—think about what you’re doing. The Sweets don’t want her around because they don’t want any humans to know about Hideaway Cove. If you tell her…”
“Then they’ll have no reason to make her leave, will they?”
Arlo shook his head. “You don’t really think it will be that simple, do you?”
“I know.” Harrison started out the door, following the path Lainie had fled. “But I have to do something.”
***
“She doesn’t want to see you.” Mrs. Hanson barred the front door to her B&B with her small, bird-like frame. “She doesn’t want to see anyone. I don’t know what you did—”
“It was Mrs. Sweets and her lot,” Harrison explained. “They jumped her with this harebrained plan to buy the Eaves property off her, and said they would run her out of town if she didn’t sell to them.” He tried to duck around Mrs. Hanson, but she stood firm.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” she murmured. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Did she accept their offer, at least?”
Harrison stared at her. “You knew about this?” Mrs. Hanson hadn’t been at the meeting. Harrison was starting to get the unpleasant feeling he was being kept in the dark, and Mrs. Hanson’s next words only confirmed his fears.
“I’m so sorry, love, but no one wanted to involve you, given the circumstances.”
“You mean because she’s my mate.”
Mrs. Hanson looked pained. “That, and… well, because of the history there. It all happened long before your time, of course.”
Harrison was growing impatient. “If you want to make excuses about hurting Lainie now because of something that happened years ago, that’s your problem,” he growled. “I want to talk to her.”
Mrs. Hanson sighed. “Go ahead, Romeo. She’s in the front room, first floor.”
Before Harrison could react, she’d nipped back behind the door and slammed it shut. He raised his hand to knock, and heard the lock turn.
Harrison rested his open palm on the closed door. There was no point yelling to Mrs. Hanson to open up. Instead, he stepped back, looking up at the house.
Front room, first floor…
A flicker of movement in the large first-floor window caught his attention.
There was no answer. Harrison concentrated. Lainie was there, he was sure of it. The curtain moved slightly—was that her?
“Lainie, please talk to me. There’s something you have to know. If you just let me up there, I’ll explain—”
The curtain was flicked aside and Lainie appeared, glaring down at him. Harrison’s heart wrenched. Her eyes were red and puffy, but her mouth was set in a firm line as she tugged the window open.
“I don’t want to talk to you! Just go away!” she yelled, her voice catching on a sob.
“Lainie, please—”
“Just leave me alone! Can’t you see you’ve just made this all worse?”
She slid the window shut and pulled the curtains across. Harrison stared up, still trying to find the words, any words, to convince her to listen to him.
There was no point. She didn’t come back to the window.
Harrison stood there, waiting. The curtains didn’t flicker. She wasn’t standing on the other side, waiting and wondering whether he was still there.
But her words still echoed through his head. Can’t you see you’ve just made this all worse?
It was true. He could see that. Whatever was happening here, whatever the reasons behind Mrs. Sweets’ cruel treatment of Lainie, his actions in drawing her into his life had only made things more difficult for her.
He’d swept her off her feet, when he should have been finding out the best way to protect her.
CHAPTER NINE
LAINIE
Lainie lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling but not seeing it. She had thought she would cry herself to sleep, exhausted by pain and anger. Instead, ever since she’d slammed the window in Harrison’s face, she hadn’t cried at all. She was angry, and confused—and implacably, horribly awake.
Why had she come here in the first place? Hope. Stupid, foolish hope. She had told herself that she had to oversee the property valuation herself, after seeing enough clients swindled by unscrupulous contractors. But she could have hired someone to do that. Even seconded one of her colleagues from the realtor’s office to deal with the whole bloody project.
She could have let someone else sort the whole thing out, and never even set foot in Hideaway Cove again.
So why didn’t I? Why did I set myself up for all this misery?
Because of hope. The same thing that always tripped her up.
Hope that a stupid family story would turn out to be true, and solve all her problems. Hope that coming back to Hideaway might, in some way, help her untangle the ugly mass of knots inside her.
Lainie groaned and closed her eyes. Instead, you’ve just made everything worse.
Another knot formed inside her as she remembered yelling the same words at Harrison. Poor guy. He’d only wanted a night of fun, and here she was, dragging him into the house of horrors that was her life.
That was her fault. She’d seen the chance for a fun distraction from the work that brought her here, and grabbed it with both hands. She hadn’t thought about the consequences. Her fault.
Just like it’s all your fault, she thought, suddenly feeling very tired. Dad leaving. Never seeing Gran and Grampa again. You should have learned eight years ago that trying to fix things only makes them worse…
She buried her face in the pillow, as though that would help her hide from the memory of her eighteen-year-old self, so hopeful and wanting to help.
Well, that all sure backfired, didn’t it? If you’d just been a bitch back then instead of trying to fix things, you wouldn’t be in this mess.
Seventy-five thousand dollars. That sort of money should have made all her problems go away. Unfortunately, that hopeful, helpful eighteen-year-old Lainie had gotten herself into far more than seventy-five thousand problems.
A sudden clatter made her sit bolt upright. For one insane second, she thought Harrison had come back, and was rattling at her door. Then the noise came again, and this time she placed it. Heavy rain was falling in bursts against the picture window. As the wind picked up, so did the sound of the rain gusting against the walls.
Lainie shivered. When did it get so dark? she thought, wrapping her arms around herself. She checked the cutesy maritime-styled clock on the wall: it wasn’t even late afternoon yet, but it looked like early evening. She walked over and looked out the window. The sky was a forbidding dark gray, and the cove, which had been so calm before, was a boiling mass of whitecap waves.
This must be one of those storms Harrison talked about. Guiltily, Lainie looked down to the path in front of the B&B, where Harrison had been standing earlier. He was long gone, of course.
Shit. So much for my plans to drive home today. Even if she left now, it would be well after midnight by the time she made it back, and that was assuming she didn’t run into trouble with the bad weather.
Another squall of rain battered the window and Lainie winced, letting the curtain fall back over it.
At least the rain had achieved something. The miserable exhaustion that had plagued her since she came back from that godawful interrogation had lifted. She felt energized.
She had to do something. Lying around in a fog of unhappiness wasn’t going to help her.
She shivered as she remembered Mrs. Sweets’ look of disgust. It was the same expression the old woman used to have on her face when she handed eleven-year-old Lainie her ice cream.
I could actually do some work, she thought, imagining the stacks of projects waiting for her at her desk in the city. Or…
Maybe I should call Mom.
Her automatic reaction to the thought was reluctance. She’d tried talking to her Mom about this before, with no success. When it came to Hideaway Cove and her divorce, Lainie’s mother was a closed book.
But this is different. I’m actually here, now. And after I tell her what happened this afternoon, surely she will have to explain something. The whole situation is just… crazy.
If nothing else, if I burst into tears over the phone, maybe that will convince her.
Lainie grabbed her purse, hurrying to make the call before she changed her mind. Her phone wasn’t in its usual pocket. She checked again, and then rummaged through the rest of the bag. Nothing.
Frowning, she checked her laptop bag, and then her suitcase. No phone.
This is getting stupid. Where is it?
Lainie thought back to the last time she’d used it. On the way here, to make sure I was on the right road… checking my work email after I arrived… Calling my manager… Oh, no.
The last time she remembered using her phone was that morning. It seemed so long ago now. She’d used it as a flashlight to light up the dingy interior of her grandparents’ house.
I must have used it since then. Surely. I—oh, shit. I must have dropped it after I saw the painting. We went around the rest of the house with just Harrison’s flashlight, didn’t we?
Shit.
She would have to go back for it. She couldn’t leave it there, not in this rain—with her luck, the old wreck of a house would spring a leak and she’d turn up in the morning to find her phone had drowned to death.
Damn Hideaway Cove. Lainie flung her suitcase open and grabbed the raincoat she had packed in the hopes of not having to use it. At least she still had the rental car. Please tell me I didn’t drop the keys as well—oh, thank God, there they are.
Lainie poked her head into reception on the way past, but there was no sign of Mrs. Hanson, the B&B’s owner. She called out, but heard no response. Fighting back the uncharitable thought that the old lady had probably gone to join the rest of them in planning the best way to kick Lainie out, she wrote a short note on a pad at the reception desk:
Dear Mrs. Hanson. Change of plans. Need to stay one more night due to storm, hope this is OK. Thanks, Lainie.
***
The storm was raging by the time Lainie pulled up in front of her grandparents’ old house. The drive up the hill had be
en hairy, and she took a few minutes to pull herself together. The little Ford hadn’t coped with the potholes as well as Harrison’s truck had.
Rain lashed at the windscreen. It was so heavy the windscreen wipers hadn’t been any use on the way up. Now, she turned the engine off, and the outside world blurred and dripped on the outside of the glass.
Lainie zipped up her raincoat and pulled the hood as far over her forehead as it would reach. “Here goes…”
She gritted her teeth and launched herself into the rain.
The wind was stronger than she’d expected, buffeting her from side to side as she raced to the front door. She wrestled with the lock for a moment—long enough for every part of her not covered by the coat to become soaked—and tumbled inside. The chill of the wind and rain left her gasping as she wrenched the door shut.
That morning, she had thought the shuttered, dust-caked windows hadn’t let any light in. So why did it look even darker now?
It was like she was wearing a blindfold. Lainie swore as she realized she hadn’t brought a light. Well, of course she hadn’t. She was going to find her light, e.g., her phone. She would have to find her way around by touch, that was all.
At least she was fairly certain where her phone was. In the sitting room, on the other side of the house.
Lainie stepped forward, her hands stretched in front of her. So far, so good. She edged forward until she found the far wall. So far… still good.
Navigating by memory, Lainie made her way slowly towards the sitting room. Thank goodness all the furniture was cleared out years ago, she thought.
Around her, the house creaked and groaned as the storm raged outside. Lainie flinched as an extra strong gust of wind made the whole building shudder. She didn’t even want to think of what her pants would look like after this. Soaked by the rain, and then marinated in all the dust she was kicking up—bleugh.
At last she found the door to the sitting room. The room overlooked the open sea, and even through the shutters the noise of the surf was deafening. It almost sounded as though it was coming up from under the floorboards. Lainie shivered.