Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She Goes\A Promise for the Baby\That Summer at the Shore (60 page)

BOOK: Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She Goes\A Promise for the Baby\That Summer at the Shore
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Gordon was a nice guy, but this situation showed how complicated things got when other people were tangled up in your life. It wasn't that she wanted to be a hermit, but it was important to maintain her independence. And keeping a certain distance from others would help.

“I'm sure you missed some terrific food,” Brad said, sounding half-asleep. “He's one hell of a chef.”

Without a doubt.
Jamie looked at her watch. Elegant people in elegant clothing would soon be headed to the Clam Shell and Sunfish Grotto dining rooms. Gordon would be up to his elbows getting ready, so he wouldn't read her message until later, but at least she'd sent it.

She hadn't seen the Grotto—Zack's interrupted “tour” hadn't gotten that far—so she could only imagine the restaurant's appearance and atmosphere. But it wasn't difficult; everything at the resort was tasteful and luxurious, in contrast to her brightly colored homemade signs.

Argggh.
She had to quit making comparisons. Mar Vista had a completely different purpose than the Little Blue Fruit Stand. Zack Denning
wanted
her to feel garish and out of place compared to him. But she had every right to do business on her own land, a business that had been operating much longer than Mar Vista. Too bad Zack didn't like it. If Granddad's trailer was an issue, he ought to have done his research and chosen somewhere else for his wealthy clients to spend their money.

* * *

A
S
B
RAD
HIKED
back to the resort, he decided his muscles were improving. As uncomfortable as he was in Mar Vista's moneyed setting, it was helpful being in California. Walking the grounds was far more pleasant than using a treadmill, and the resort's well-appointed gym had weight machines that approximated the therapy equipment he'd used in Maryland. It was one of his better days, so he hadn't taken a ride from Jamie; the pain wasn't gone, but it was manageable.

Zack had stomped out of the apartment in the early morning, plainly disturbed...a condition most likely caused by Jamie Conroe. Something about her got under Zack's skin, and Brad wondered if there was an attraction his brother was trying to ignore. He couldn't tell what Jamie felt, but it wouldn't be remarkable if she reciprocated. Zack was a handsome devil. When they were teenagers, the girls had practically drooled over him, though his thirst for success had also been a draw for some of them.

Brad went in through the rear entrance of the administrative wing and stopped to greet Zack's office manager, thinking he could have used her efficient skills in his military unit.

“Hi, Trudy.”

“Hey, Brad,” she said. “Zack wanted me to pass on a message in case you came by—Ms. Wheeler is spending the weekend at the resort and suggested the three of you have dinner at the Grotto at seven.”

Kim? What had brought her back to Mar Vista...though considering Zack's mood this morning, perhaps he'd needed her to deal with something.

Brad checked the office wall clock. He had time for a shower and a short rest. It would be great to see Kim, and he enjoyed watching her shift into lawyer mode, reminiscent of a general marshaling forces and directing battle. It was amazing that Zack had let her get away years ago, and an even bigger mystery how he'd kept her as a friend. In Zack's shoes Brad wasn't sure he could have managed it, but he was glad Kim still liked the Denning family.

At dinner he was surprised the conversation stayed away from business
and
by Kim's casual statement that she'd come solely for relaxation. She seemed to be aiming the remark at Zack.

“I know,” his brother muttered.

“Just keeping you honest.”

He glared, but didn't say more.

Brad almost snickered. Zack
had
to learn how to do something other than run a resort—he didn't even finish his meal, rushing off to investigate a minor problem the reception desk had discovered, leaving them to have dessert alone.

“That's Zack.” Kim laughed, seeming unperturbed.

She'd chosen a raspberry-chocolate torte from the selection available and ate it, relishing every bite, without a single comment about the calories or having to “work it off.”

It was unaccountably...hot.

“You want to do something tomorrow?” she asked when the last crumb had been consumed. Brad looked down and saw that he'd polished off his own pastry and had only a vague idea of how it had tasted. “I have zero leisure skills,” she explained. “I need a friend to keep me on the right track.”

“Zack isn't free?”

“You've got to be kidding. What that guy knows about leisure could be poured into a jar lid.”

He grinned. “True enough. Okay, sure. Let's do something.”

* * *

I
N
THE
MORNING
they ate breakfast together then took a stroll along the ocean bluff, soaking up the vistas of water and rocky shoreline.

“It's a fine piece of property,” she said. “But I wonder how many golf balls go into the water from here.”

“The grounds manager says they designed the course so the balls wouldn't be hit as much in this direction, but it's still providing a business for some of the local kids. They collect the balls and sell them at the municipal golf course in Warrington. That takes me back. I did the same thing for years. That's how I got my second bike.”

Kim laughed. “Did Zack do it, too?”

“Not exactly. I picked up the balls and he sold them on commission. It actually worked out well since I got more for the balls than if I'd peddled them myself.”

“So he was already a businessman that young?”

“He's the only kid I knew who could open a lemonade stand in winter and make a profit. He labeled it Non-Caliente Lemonade.”


Non-Caliente.
Isn't that a mixture of English and Spanish?”

“Yep. It basically means ‘not-hot lemonade.'”

Kim started laughing and gasped. “In the winter he made a profit selling lemonade because it
wasn't
hot?”

“You bet. Of course, I have to admit it was first-rate lemonade, none of that powdered stuff.”

“Zack has always been into quality.”

Brad hadn't thought of it that way, but she was right. Zack had never tried to profit on the basis of someone else losing out or getting shortchanged. He might charge top dollar, but the people who bought what he was selling got the best there was to buy.

It was nearly eleven when they started back toward the main buildings. “How about going for a horseback ride?” Brad asked. “We could bring a picnic lunch.”

“I don't know....” Kim shrugged. “What if we take one of the resort's loaner cars and drive the coastline instead? We could get lunch wherever it looks interesting. That would be easier on your leg, especially after such a long walk.”

“I don't need to be coddled,” he answered shortly.

“I'm not coddling you, but you
have
had a rough recovery.”

“I also don't need your pity.”

“Dammit, Brad, you don't have to get your testosterone in a tailspin,” Kim snapped. She stopped and drew an exaggerated breath. “The truth is I admire what you did over there.”

“I was just driving down a road and got caught in an explosion.”

“But you were there, being a soldier. That's a lot.”

“Don't give me any medals and don't wrap me in cotton. I can ride a damned horse.”

“I'm not wrapping you in anything,” she said huffily. “I was just making an effort to be nice before you go back and get blown up forever.”

Strangely, her irritable reply made him feel good, because other people usually assumed his military career was over.

* * *

T
HAT
EVENING
J
AMIE
took a container with Mar Vista printed on the top from the refrigerator. She'd found an ice cooler on her front porch late the previous afternoon, with a pleasant note from Gordon explaining it was the meal he'd prepared for her. Apparently, he'd had it delivered prior to receiving her text message. She had eaten the appetizer and salad immediately, leaving the entrée for Saturday.

It was great to come home to a ready-made meal, especially since she was more tired than usual. For the second time that week, there'd been a mess at her produce stand—boxes scattered and one of the canopy poles knocked over. It was probably teens out joyriding, zooming too closely. Granddad had occasionally had the same problem and dealt with it by putting a chain between the posts at night to keep the behavior from becoming a regular thing.

Jamie took Gordon's entrée out of the container. It looked fantastic and, despite being chilled, was fragrant with garlic and other seasonings. That morning he'd ridden out with the truck to pick up the daily order, his friendliness making it clear he wasn't unhappy with her. He did seem on edge when it came to his boss, but she'd carefully avoided the pitfall of
that
subject.

While the food heated, Jamie sat on the deck overlooking the salt marsh and ocean. Her move to Warrington had turned her into a bird-watcher, and she enjoyed seeing the egrets and other wildlife that teemed in the marsh. It was an endless display, though she sometimes worried that Marlin would have a heart attack as he gazed at the feathered buffet.

The timer buzzed, and she went inside to take the entrée out of the oven, only to hear the doorbell. With a sigh, she opened the door and came face-to-face with Zack Denning.

“Yes?” she said curtly.

“I...uh...I came to apologize,” he said. “I acted badly the other night.”

Jamie examined his face, debating internally how to handle the situation. He sounded sincere, but he still might be hoping to buy her land. It was wise to keep her response simple.

“Apology accepted.”

He looked at the pot holder in her fingers. “You were just about to eat. I'll contact you when it's more convenient.”

Zack hurried down the steps before she could say “don't bother.” His rushed exit had the flavor of an escape, and Jamie watched as he climbed into his vehicle. He glanced back and they stared at each other. It was an odd moment, charged with awareness...or maybe it was just her imagination.

After his Mercedes disappeared around a curve, Jamie looked at her worn jeans and faded T-shirt—hardly her sexiest outfit. Yeah, it had to be her imagination. There was no way Zack Denning would find her the least bit attractive.

CHAPTER SIX

O
VER
THE
NEXT
few days, Zack had trouble sleeping, though it wasn't the resort keeping him awake...it was Jamie Conroe. And it wasn't just her slim figure bothering him. She was the damnedest woman, so stubborn she made a mule look cooperative. If she wasn't disrupting his plans, he would have admired her determination.

At least the night staff was getting extra focus, he reasoned as he walked through the laundry. It was 3:00 a.m. and everything was quiet. The employees gave him quick nods as they worked. He'd expected them to be more relaxed with him after several months, but admittedly, he didn't see the night crew too often.

“How are things going, Alice?” Zack asked one of them, a local woman he'd recently hired after several members of their cleaning crew quit.

“Fine, sir.”

She kept folding the thick towels used poolside.

Everything seemed to be operating well, but Alice's demeanor was a surprise; she'd proved chatty during her interview, a trait that had nearly disqualified her. He wanted a cordial staff, not employees who were intrusive on his clients' visits.

Zack continued his inspection of the resort's functions after daybreak, going into each department and speaking with the supervisors. He was shocked when the head of housekeeping hinted she might be resigning soon. When he'd recruited her, she'd been enthusiastic and had spoken of long-term goals and commitments. Now, less than a year into full-time operation, she was considering taking another position.

Damn.
Losing Margo would be a blow; she was superb. He'd already had to replace his maintenance supervisor. Fortunately, Zack had convinced someone from a resort he'd once managed to come as a replacement. Zack mentally went through a list of people he'd previously worked with to see if there was a likely candidate for the housekeeper's position. Or maybe he could persuade Margo to stay with a pay increase or additional perk.

Aside from Margo's hints about leaving, he found nothing of obvious concern. In the kitchen, Gordon no longer seemed upset, which was a relief.

Zack spent the rest of the afternoon checking purchase orders and evaluating new merchandise for the shops. He added his endorsement to the various managers' recommendations.

Trudy offered to stay late, but he waved her out and reviewed financial records until midnight. Tired, he climbed the stairs to his apartment, his eyes slowly refocusing from staring at a computer screen for six hours. He had an uneasy feeling about Mar Vista, but couldn't pin down why. It wasn't simply Jamie's fruit stand, although that was bad enough.

In the apartment kitchen there was a note from Brad saying he'd be back in the morning, and Zack figured his brother had gone on a date, which pleased Zack. He'd been spending so much time on Mar Vista that he hadn't given Brad the attention he deserved. It made no difference that Brad didn't want the attention, preferring to pursue his personal rehabilitation plan.

Zack frowned. By his brother's own admission, he was being much more aggressive with his workouts than the doctors from Bethesda had approved. Granted, Brad knew his body better than anyone, but it was a worry. In any case, a date would be good for his brother.

Numbers danced across Zack's sight when he closed his eyes, and he envied Brad's activities for the evening. Zack's own social opportunities were limited; he couldn't date an employee, single guests of the resort often had an agenda, and he hadn't met many local women beyond his staff. That was, other than Jamie, and she hardly counted. Yet he kept remembering the healthy color in her cheeks and the curves that were often concealed by her farmer's overalls.... That was what enforced celibacy did to a man. It made him have ridiculous thoughts.

He sat in an easy chair and picked up a newspaper, needing to catch up on world events. He'd run into an old acquaintance visiting the resort who'd mentioned a humorous episode in the political arena. Zack had felt like an idiot, having no clue about the issue, and it underscored the fact that he'd lost track of normal conversational topics. Many of his guests were well-informed; conversing with them required being equally informed himself. He read until the words blurred and his head dropped.

Zack was jolted awake when the front door opened and he realized it was light outside. Brad stood in the living room, gazing at him with raised eyebrows.

“You weren't waiting up for me, I trust.”

“No, fell asleep reading the paper. How was your date?”

“It wasn't a date. Jamie's having trouble with vandalism at the fruit stand. At first she thought it was joyriding teens, but it didn't end, even when she chained the road.”

Adrenaline rushed through Zack's veins, waking him more effectively than caffeine. “Why the hell are you involved?”

Brad's jaw got squarer than usual. “Jamie was going to spend the night in the trailer to see if she could catch the culprits. I couldn't let her do that alone.”

Zack's frustration mounted. Why was it his injured brother's responsibility? “If she's got a problem, she can call on her buddy at the sheriff's department,” he snapped. “
You
don't have to deal with it.”

“As far as I'm concerned, it's a Denning problem.” Brad's expression was angry. “Mar Vista staff members could be trying to help their boss by attempting to drive her off the land. It's no secret that the two of you've been going at it. One of the staff even told me he saw you and Jamie having a fight in the parking lot.”

“It was an argument,” Zack said, almost growling, “not a fight, and I went to her house and said I was sorry.”

“That doesn't mean your employees see it that way. Some are on edge and might decide a little sabotage will clear the decks. Maybe get their boss's notice. Regardless, I'm staying with her until this is sorted.” Five long strides took Brad to the guest room. He pulled the door shut.

Zack slammed his fist on the chair arm. How
dare
Jamie insinuate that he or his employees had anything to do with her problems? What kind of man did she think he was? He would never condone such behavior. She was just making trouble for him and Mar Vista. He ought to take her to court. At the very least, he'd tell her exactly what she could do with her outrageous claims.

* * *

J
AMIE
DRAGGED
HERSELF
home and stood under a hot shower, hoping it would energize her. The night had proved a bust. After seeing vandalism every day for over a week, there hadn't been so much as a bent blade of grass while she was watching.

She hadn't planned to tell anybody what had happened—she could handle her own problems—but Brad had found her fastening the chain across the road on Sunday evening and hadn't bought her vague explanation. He'd pushed for details and had apparently deduced her intentions when he saw her overnight bag. He'd simply shown up—a chivalrous marine—to stand guard with her.

This vandalism wasn't like the sort that Granddad had written about—it was too calculated. The vandal had started throwing mud on the chairs, knocking over canopy poles and tossing spoiled fruit onto the canvas. They would have had to bring the fruit with them; she didn't leave any stock behind in case raccoons or squirrels got at it.

The timing also seemed suspicious, occurring so soon after the dispute she'd had with Zack. Still, it was unlikely that he was to blame, though she had to admit that some people would do whatever it took to protect their interests.

Whoever was guilty, she had to stop them. She would identify the culprit and report him to Curt. If they'd guessed she was there, perhaps it would break the pattern for good. Either way, the problem would be solved. And while she appreciated Brad's staunch desire to help, it wasn't needed.

The water in the shower grew cold and Jamie hastily stepped out. It was time to dress and run to meet her suppliers. She filled a cup with leftover coffee and rushed to the stand. Wednesdays usually weren't as busy; given half a chance, she could grab a few catnaps.

Once at the stand, she barely refrained from snapping at one farmer who'd forgotten three things she'd ordered. He apologized and promised to return shortly. The Mar Vista truck arrived for its pickup, and when they left, she irritably got busy arranging vegetables on the display.

Gravel spun several minutes later as Zack's Mercedes SUV ground to a halt next to the stand. It was déjà vu—he looked as pissed as the first day she'd met him.

Fine.
Bring it on. Lack of rest left her cranky enough to relish a new argument with the jerk.

Zack strode toward her. “How could you tell my brother it's
my
fault you're having problems? I'd never let my employees think vandalism is okay, even on an atrociously tacky old trailer that should have been hauled to the dump years ago. I should sue you for slander.”

“Watch out, Mr. Big Shot!” she yelled back. “You might get contaminated by my trailer and get hauled to the dump with it. As for slander, you can stuff it. I may have wondered whether one of your employees was getting their kicks out here, but I didn't say anything to Brad. And if you're so pure of heart, why did your brother come up with the idea all by himself?”

Zack looked taken aback. “Brad knows I wouldn't condone anything like this. But if it will reassure you, I'll send word that the fruit stand is off-limits for Mar Vista employees. They won't even be allowed to shop here.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “That's just like you and your grizzly-bear, heavy-fisted management style.”

“I do
not
have a heavy-fisted management style.”

“Really? Informing people where they can and can't shop isn't very friendly. And accusing innocent people of criminal acts is as heavy fisted as it gets. You should have learned that when you tried to get me arrested for being on my own land.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I have nothing to do with any vandalism, period. And leave my brother out of it.”

“I tried to leave him out of it, but he's a nice guy, something you certainly don't have in common with him. He showed up last night and wouldn't leave.”

“You—”

A car turned down the drive and she gestured at it. “If you don't want anyone else to see you unglued, you should leave.”

Face taut with anger, he stomped to his car.

Jamie went back to arranging her displays. Fatigue still dogged her heels, but she felt better having harangued her nemesis.

* * *

Z
ACK
CLENCHED
THE
steering wheel as he drove back to Mar Vista. He'd put a memo out to his employees to stay away from the fruit stand. Naturally, he couldn't actually tell them they couldn't shop there—hell, he'd seen Trudy hiding a basket of fruit that must have come from the trailer. But he could send a stern message otherwise.

Yet as he parked by the office, Zack couldn't stop thinking about what Jamie had said. Much as he hated to acknowledge it, she had a point. Perhaps he should just ask his staff to report anything strange, instead of blasting off a warning.

Inside he attempted greeting Trudy normally.

“Howdy, boss,” she said. “I see you got through the financials. I did check them, you know.”

“It can't hurt to take a second look.”

“Of course.” Her voice was unusually stiff and he wondered what was wrong.

“Uh, Trudy, I need to send a message to the staff. There's been some vandalism at the fruit stand. Could we ask everyone to keep an eye out and report if they see anything questionable?”

“Sure. I'll write a draft and get it to your desk ASAP.”

“Thanks. Even if I don't want the trailer in its present location, Jamie Conroe is a...a neighbor. It's right for us to assist if we can.”

Trudy bobbed her head and bent over her computer while Zack went into his office.

A steaming cup of coffee sat ready for him. Whatever was on Trudy's mind, it hadn't impacted her efficiency. He didn't expect his office manager to fetch coffee, but Trudy seemed to think it was a matter of course. Within five minutes, a beep on his computer alerted him the memo was ready.

To the Mar Vista Staff:

Our neighbor, Jamie Conroe, has been troubled by vandalism at her fruit stand lately. We can help by being alert and reporting anything that might lead to catching the guilty party. Thanks to everyone.

Zack went to Trudy's desk. “That's perfect.”

A small smile transformed her features to their typical good cheer. “I'll get it printed and sent to everyone.”

“Great.”

“Did you finish your inspection?”

A chuckle escaped him. “To tell you the truth, I didn't even start it. I'll do a quick run now.”

“Daily inspections may no longer be necessary, you know. You have an excellent staff.”

“Could be,” he agreed. “But I have a lot riding on Mar Vista and it's my job to make it work.”

“It's... Never mind.” Her cheeks had gone pale. “See you later.”

He suspected she wasn't feeling well.
Again.
Lord, what a mess it would be if she was pregnant.

As he began his morning route, Zack's thoughts went to the fruit stand. Trudy's message would surely demonstrate his lack of support for any negative actions. Not that he believed his employees would do such a thing. The locals liked Jamie, and though his management staff didn't have a history in the area, they surely knew he would never sanction scare tactics.

None of that fixed the problem of Brad spending nights on guard duty. His brother had suffered severe damage to his bones and muscles; if Brad ended up confronting an intruder, he could be seriously injured. That left few options. Jamie clearly intended to continue keeping watch at the trailer, and Brad wouldn't let her do it alone. And now that he'd had a chance to think, Zack was disturbed about it himself.

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