All of You, Always

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All of You, Always Page 16

by Lindsay Harrel


  After advancing through the front room, she tucked herself behind the desk and peered around the corner into the small kitchen that served as a break room. Her eyes first caught sight of the open back door and the sand and ocean just beyond. Then her gaze roamed the room, landing on a pair of legs. What the . . .

  A man was lying on his back, his head stuck underneath the break room sink, a wrench in his hand. And he was humming. Loudly.

  OK, so most likely not a thief, unless there was some black-market demand for plumbing parts she didn’t know about. But for some reason the heightened speed of her pulse continued. Madison stepped fully into the room. “What are you doing in my store?”

  The man surged into a sitting position, his head smacking the top of the cabinet along the way. The wrench hurtled to the ground as he covered his face with his hands, groaning.

  Sucking in a breath, Madison rushed forward. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  But at that moment, the man lowered his hand, and Madison couldn’t help the gasp that fell from her lips.

  What was he doing here?

  Evan Walsh was as handsome now as he’d been during their senior year of high school. Instead of the tousled hair that had always made him appear as if he’d just rolled out of bed, he sported a casual blond brush-up. A defined jawline and full stubble had replaced sparse whiskers, and his wider shoulders gave way to crafted arms that peeked out from the rolled sleeves of his blue dress shirt. The only thing that hadn’t changed about him were those piercing aqua eyes, the ones that had inspired more than one female at Walker Beach High to compose a silly love poem.

  And yet, the sight of him still clenched Madison’s stomach. “I asked what you’re doing in my store.”

  “Your store?” He studied her for a moment, eyebrows puckered in confusion, until his eyes widened. “Oh, wow, you must be Madison.”

  He made it sound like he had no idea who she was. As if he hadn’t spent months writing her pen pal letters that had ended up being a cruel joke. Evan Walsh, of all people, should have known her name.

  Or maybe he only remembered the one he’d invented for her.

  “Yeah, I’m Madison.” Not Lizard Lady.

  Evan stared at her, a grin curling around his lips. “And, Madison, tell me, what exactly are you planning to do with that?” His amused gaze traveled to her hand, and she looked down.

  Instead of the hammer she’d intended to grab in defense, she’d snagged a plunger.

  She set it down onto the small table behind her as her cheeks reddened. “I thought you were a thief.”

  “And so you said, ‘Hey, I’ll plunge the guy to death?’” Evan stood and brushed off his beige slacks, chuckling.

  Madison backed up at his sudden nearness. “Well? Why are you here?”

  “Your aunt asked me to keep an eye on things until you came back or sold the place. Of course, if I’d known it would be nearly five months, I’d have asked for double what she was paying me.” At her lack of reply, he tilted his head, his smile disappearing. “Hey, it’s just a joke. Are you OK?”

  “Why would she have asked you for help?” Her aunt knew how Madison had felt about him and his dumb friends. Not that it mattered anymore.

  Evan rubbed the back of his neck, a guarded look on his face. “We became close during the last few years.” He cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry for your loss, by the way.”

  Heat flashed at the back of Madison’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly before any tears could escape. “Thank you.” Her voice nearly broke as she said the words.

  Oh goodness. Air. She needed air.

  Madison strode through the back door and onto the peeling wraparound porch. The breeze coming off the ocean attacked Madison’s hair. From here, the wooden boardwalk that spanned the length of the town was only a stone’s throw away. It wound like a slatted snake across the sparkling sands, where the Pacific whooshed in and out. Even on this Monday in early January, a handful of tourists and villagers walked the beach, enjoying the quiet landscape that was so different from the big cities of Los Angeles and San Francisco. Walker Beach was a few hundred miles from each and a world unto itself.

  She may not have missed Walker Beach—or most of its people—but nothing could compete with this view.

  “Hey.”

  Madison jumped and spun at the intrusion, fixing what she hoped was an intimidating glare on Evan, who now leaned against the doorjamb, hands tucked inside his pockets.

  “I was just kidding about the five-months thing. I didn’t mind helping out. I’m sure you’ve had a lot going on with school.”

  “How did you know about that?” She’d only just graduated three weeks ago, and life since then had been a whirlwind of packing her apartment and celebrating the holidays with her grandma in San Francisco.

  “Chrissy told me.” Evan shrugged. “She made it sound like you wouldn’t want to keep the business or the house but knew it may help you out financially to sell them. I actually wasn’t sure if you’d come yourself or just send movers to pack up everything.”

  Madison had considered it, but someone had to do Chrissy’s things justice. Grandma hadn’t wanted anything to do with Walker Beach since Grandpa had died. She hadn’t even held Chrissy’s funeral here.

  So it was up to Madison, who had received the shock of her life when she’d been named heir of Chrissy’s house and the hardware store that had been in the family for fifty years. It had taken her some time to work up her courage, but she was here now, with the perfect window of time before her dream job began. She’d get Chrissy’s things sorted, her store inventoried, and her house and Hole-in-the-Wall Hardware on the market. Easy peasy.

  But wait. Evan acted like . . . “So, you knew she was sick?” It wasn’t something her aunt had shared with anyone in her family, including Madison. But perhaps she’d known that Madison would have abandoned her last year of school in a heartbeat if the word cancer had crossed her lips. It was the least she would have done for the woman who had taken in her twelve-year-old niece when Madison had lost her parents in a freak avalanche during a ski trip in Vermont.

  Evan kicked at a rock on the patio. “Yeah.”

  “She didn’t tell me.” Madison swallowed hard. She should have been there. She should have known. If she’d bothered to come back to Walker Beach . . . But the town had held such painful memories—or so she’d told herself. Aunt Chrissy had come several times to visit Madison in Los Angeles, and Madison had counted that as enough.

  But she’d left her aunt alone when she’d needed Madison most.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Well, not completely alone. Apparently, Evan Walsh had been there.

  Madison studied him, but no matter how hard she looked, he was an enigma. The expression in his eyes was clearly pained, but her pain and anger wouldn’t let her embrace his. Chrissy had been Madison’s aunt, and this was Madison’s store. She didn’t need Evan’s help anymore.

  She squared her shoulders. “I appreciate you keeping an eye on things, but I’m here now.”

  He nodded, quietly accepting her words, which had come out a bit harsher than she’d intended. “How long will you be here?” His question sounded nervous, though she couldn’t imagine why it should.

  “I’m not sure. There’s a lot to do.”

  “Let me know if you need any help.”

  Help? From him? She’d sooner swim in the freezing-cold ocean and take a subsequent dip in a vat of ice. But she’d never let him know how much he’d wounded her in the past. It didn’t matter anymore. She was over it, and she was better for it.

  Madison jutted her chin forward. “I don’t think I will, but thanks.”

  He eyed her for a moment. “Guess I’ll go, then.” Turning, he started down the cracked steps.

  “Wait. Evan?”

  “Yeah?” He circled back, and something in his eyes looked hopeful. But that was silly.

  “I’ll take your key.”

  “Oh
. Right.” Pulling the key from his pocket, his fingers brushed her palm as he handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” Madison rubbed away the fire that fanned from the spot where he’d touched her to the tips of her fingers.

  They stared at each other until the ringing of her phone shattered the silence between them.

  Madison pulled the phone from her back pocket, swiveled on her heel, and marched inside the store. She closed the back door in such haste that it slammed.

  Why had she let the man rattle her so much? Or maybe it was simply being back here, in a place she couldn’t help but love because of its previous owner. Yes, that had to be it. Evan Walsh was nothing to her. She needed to remember that.

  The phone continued to blare. Oh, right. Without looking at the Caller ID, Madison clicked the green button on her screen. “Hello?”

  “Is this Madison?”

  “Yes. Who is this?” Madison slid into the nearest chair at the two-person table in the break room.

  “Courtney Lambdon at Lola Public Library.”

  Her future boss. “Hi. How are you?”

  “Not so great, actually. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the grant money we were planning to use to fund your position fell through. I’m afraid we can no longer offer you the job.”

  “What?” This had to be a sick joke. She’d already sublet her apartment in L.A., quit her job at the bookstore, packed. “There’s nothing you can do?”

  “I’m sorry, but no. We will, of course, search for other grant opportunities, but there is no guarantee we’ll get one. If we do, I will let you know as soon as possible.”

  That wasn’t good enough. She needed a job now. Maybe she could reach out to other libraries. She’d prefer to stay on the West Coast, but it didn’t matter where, really. It wasn’t like she had any real roots tying her down.

  But that would take time and a bit of luck. She’d been lucky to find the job in Oregon.

  Madison issued a weak thank you to Courtney and hung up the phone. Groaning, she rubbed her temples. What was she going to do now?

  Her eyes caught sight of a sign hanging over the doorway: Follow Your Dreams. How many times had Aunt Chrissy told her that?

  “Yeah, I tried, Aunt Chrissy. And look where it got me.”

  Back in the last place she wanted to be with nothing but a house and a store she’d never asked for.

  Books by Lindsay Harrel

  Walker Beach Romance Series

  All At Once (prequel novella)

  All of You, Always

  All Because of You

  All I’ve Waited For

  All You Need Is Love

  * * *

  Port Willis Series

  The Secrets of Paper and Ink

  Like a Winter Snow

  Like a Christmas Dream

  * * *

  Standalones

  The Joy of Falling

  The Heart Between Us

  One More Song to Sing

  About the Author

  Lindsay Harrel is a lifelong book nerd who lives in Arizona with her young family and two golden retrievers in serious need of training. When she’s not writing or chasing after her children, Lindsay enjoys making a fool of herself at Zumba, curling up with anything by Jane Austen, and savoring sour candy one piece at a time. Visit her at www.lindsayharrel.com.

  Walker Beach Romance Series

  Book 1: All of You, Always

  © 2021 Lindsay Harrel

  Published by Blue Aster Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form except small excerpts used in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover: Hillary Manton Lodge Design

  Editing: Marisa Deshaies

 

 

 


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