Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She Goes\A Promise for the Baby\That Summer at the Shore (61 page)

As much as he'd rather keep away from Jamie, he'd have to go in Brad's place.

* * *

J
AMIE
FINISHED
FOR
the day, drove into town to make her deposit and hurried to the house to grab a bite and a nap. She set her alarm for seven-thirty, figuring it was best to get to the trailer before nightfall. She had hidden her car the previous night around a bend in the road, so unless somebody was spying for hours, they shouldn't guess anyone was on-site.

And hopefully, tonight Brad would realize she was perfectly all right by herself. It wasn't as if she meant to challenge the culprit. She had better sense than that; she just planned to take pictures with a camera that worked in low light. If somebody came, she'd focus through the trailer's window and begin clicking. They wouldn't know she was there or that she'd gotten the evidence to hand over to the authorities. She'd explained all that to Brad before he'd gone back to the resort, so he'd see the sense of staying home.

When the buzzer on the clock rang, it jarred every nerve. More than anything she wanted to remain curled up in bed with Marlin, who'd landed next to her three seconds after she'd slipped under the blankets.

“I gotta go,” she muttered to the cat.

She dressed in black so she'd be less visible in the night, and filled Granddad's old stainless-steel thermos with coffee. On the way out she grabbed the sack of food she'd packed to pass the night. The irony couldn't be escaped—as a kid she'd begged her grandfather to let her sleep in the trailer above the beach and he wouldn't let her. Now that she
had
to do it, she'd rather not.

Still, once she was there, the trailer was pleasant and warm with memories. She carefully checked and covered possible holes that could let out light, so she could read or watch the personal DVD player she'd brought with her.

At about nine, she froze. The sound of a vehicle stopping, followed by soft footsteps on the gravel, raised her hopes. With any luck she'd photograph the perpetrator and be able to go home to sleep. Quietly she switched off the lamps, pulled the heavy curtain aside and began clicking.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Her hand jerked and she almost cursed.

“What?” she hissed at the door.

“It's me,” a voice whispered.

“Brad, I told you I'm fine by myself,” she said as she opened the door.

But it wasn't Brad; it was Zack.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“The only way I could prevent Brad from coming was to take his place.”

Jamie tried to shut the door but he blocked it with his foot. “I said I don't need anyone. I'm doing this by myself.”

“I'm here for my brother's sake, not yours.”

“What is it with you Dennings? Can't you take no for an answer?”

“Jamie, I'm here for the night whether you like it or not. If necessary, I'll stay out here—how are these chairs for sleeping?”

She rolled her eyes. “You can't be serious. All
right.
Since you aren't being reasonable, you'll have to move your car behind the trees around that curve in the road. No one will come if they see someone is here, and I want to catch whoever's doing this.”

While he was gone she considered locking the door and refusing to answer, but apparently there was
one
thing the Denning brothers had in common—pigheadedness. Zack would spend the night outside, and she'd never get any evidence.

After several minutes he returned.

“Remember that it's your decision to spend the night in a tacky trailer,” she said, letting him in. “Don't blame me if it makes you grumpier than usual with your staff.”

Zack seated himself. “Very funny. So, what's going on? Are you sure it's intentional vandalism?”

“I assumed it was teenagers joyriding, but they're pitching mud and rotten fruit on the chairs and smearing it on the canopy. It could still be teens, yet it feels too deliberate, and it's practically every night. That doesn't seem like kids.”

“It couldn't be animals?”

Jamie shook her head. “I don't leave anything here overnight. I either use my leftover produce or donate it to a women's shelter in Warrington. Besides, animals could leave muddy footprints, but they wouldn't throw globs on the walls.”

“Has there been major damage?”

“Mostly petty annoyances so far.”

He set a large paper bag on the table.

“I didn't know what you'd prefer,” he told her. “So I brought two orders of Gordon's daily special in case you haven't had dinner yet.”

She stared at him suspiciously. What did he expect to gain by bringing food? Still, it would be silly and wasteful not to eat.

She waved a finger as she joined him at the table. “Dinner or not, I won't discuss selling my land. Got it? And if somebody tries anything, you let me handle it my way.”

“Understood.”

* * *

Z
ACK
RESPECTED
J
AMIE
'
S
resolve to be self-sufficient, however impractical it might be, especially since it could be multiple vandals attacking the stand.

“All I'm doing is taking pictures for the sheriff through the window,” she continued. “I'm not going to confront anybody.”

Smart.

Jamie ate and settled with a book, offering him a choice of reading or the DVD player. But Zack was restless and studied the trailer's interior—it was in good condition, clean and comfortable, which surprised him. It wouldn't be a top pick for a claustrophobic, but it was rather nice. He looked closer and could tell the cabinets and various features were custom-made, another surprise. Everything fit together quite ingeniously, including a kitchenette and table.

Zack rolled his shoulders and realized that for the first time in eighteen months, he wasn't buried in purchase orders, financial portfolios, blueprints or other activities to support Mar Vista. There was only a quiet, cozy space and a woman who annoyed him more than anyone he'd ever known.

Yet Jamie wasn't annoying him at the moment.

A faint fragrance drifted around him—it wasn't perfume, just vanilla and strawberries and something uniquely feminine. Jamie wore sweat-suit bottoms that clung to her curves, and her T-shirt bumped out in all the right spots. It was an exquisite reminder of how long he'd been living a monkish existence.

A stack of games was tucked on a shelf, and Zack decided they could be a much-needed distraction.

“How about a game of Scrabble?” he challenged.

She shrugged and tossed her book onto the bed.

Two hours later, Zack looked at the score in confusion. He hadn't played in ages, but he used to be decent at the game. Jamie was better, and a fierce competitor; if only her intelligence wasn't paired with so much stubbornness.

“Chess?” she asked and he nodded.

She played chess as expertly as Scrabble, but he managed to back her into a stalemate. He might have won if he hadn't been sidetracked by Jamie's quirky expressions as she pondered her moves...that, and her innate femininity she couldn't entirely hide.

“I have a chess set my grandfather carved at home,” Jamie said, packing up the game. “Dark green jade for one player, and jade that's almost white for the second. He used to keep it in the trailer, but I got worried that pieces might get lost.”

Shortly after midnight Jamie stretched and peeked out the window to see if anybody was in view. “I want some air,” she said, picking up her camera and slipping through the door. Zack followed as she led the way to a sand dune above the water. It was out of sight of anyone approaching the trailer.

The night was bright and still, the Milky Way a glorious canopy above them.

“It's perfect, isn't it?” Jamie whispered. The moonlight shone on her face, revealing awe as she gazed at the beach.

Other concerns slid away. The sea foam seemed to glow with a light of its own, and the waves curled into the shore in an endless rhythm. Stars glittered and Zack found himself searching for the familiar constellations, Orion's Belt and Gemini and the Big Dipper. It had been years since he'd looked at the stars in any special way; he couldn't even recall when the different constellations appeared.

“I haven't taken time to enjoy how beautiful it is here,” he admitted, though there was a chance Jamie would twit him about it. He waited, but she just sat in companionable silence.

“My grandparents met on this beach,” she said at length. “My grandmother was an artist who came here to paint. Ironically, Granddad couldn't fully appreciate a painting.”

“Because he was color-blind.” Zack remembered Jamie mentioning that the first day they'd met.

“Yes. But he could sculpt, and he asked if she would model for him, sitting on the sand with the wind blowing in her hair.”

“So she said yes, and that's how they fell in love?”

Her laugh was low and musical. “No. Leah didn't want to be carved into stone or wood or metal, but she did want to be carved into Granddad's soul. She loved him from the instant they met, though Granddad said he was too old for her—he was thirty-eight, and she was twenty. Her parents were opposed to the relationship and her sister said she was crazy, but Leah was strong and followed her heart.”

“Why do you call her Leah instead of Grandmother?”

“I didn't know her. She died seven years after they were married, and Granddad always called her Leah. He never got over losing her so early and loved her for the rest of his life.” Jamie was silent for a moment before sighing. “Where have true-blue men like that gone?”

She didn't sound bitter, just sad. The moonlight silvered her skin and hair, and her scent mingled with the freshness of the ocean breeze. Zack wasn't usually the fanciful sort, yet he couldn't stop thinking that she reminded him of a fairy tale...a water dryad who'd appeared from the waves rolling into shore.

Instinctively he pulled her close, his lips moving over hers.

She felt good and tasted better.

* * *

J
AMIE
'
S
HEART
JUMPED
and a surge of desire swept through her, only she couldn't allow it, so she shoved Zack with her elbow and shimmied backward.

“Is this a new strategy to get my property?”

He stared at her and she could have sworn he was bemused—as if a hardheaded businessman could get bemused over anything except a hot stock purchase.

His jaw hardened. “That was the last thing on my mind. Are you such a cynical divorcée that you can't accept that somebody finds you attractive?”

“Huh.”

She got up and marched to the trailer. Cynical? She wasn't cynical; she was careful—especially around a man whose career and business were his sole priorities. Zack Denning seemed oblivious to everything except his resort—so even if she wanted romance, it wouldn't be with someone like him.

In the trailer she climbed onto the upper bunk, pulled a blanket over her and pretended to be intent on her book when he came inside.

Neither of them said a word. Later when she heard noises outside she slid down to snap pictures through the window, but it was just a herd of deer wandering by.

Zack peered out, too, then lay back on the lower bed.

Jamie couldn't sleep between listening for a potential vandal and hearing Zack's steady breathing. She didn't think he'd use seduction to get what he wanted, but his kiss was suspicious when she knew any physical charms she possessed were well disguised by her hands-off clothing.

Jamie finally dropped off near dawn and woke when the first farmer arrived. She crawled from the bunk. Zack was gone; he'd probably escaped to his fancy resort.

She juggled the deliveries and Mar Vista produce order, sneaking gulps of coffee from her thermos and bites of food from her sack of groceries. The containers from the meal Zack had brought were gone. Had she thanked him for dinner? Probably not—she'd gotten too annoyed about him coming to begin with.

She drowsed between customers—the coffee might have been decaf for all the good it did her.

Brad got there late in the morning. “How did it go?”

“The same as the night you were here. I hope they've given up. This could get old.” Jamie put her palm over her mouth as she yawned.

“Shall I tend the store while you take a nap?” he offered. “I don't have many demands on my time. I exercise, I eat Gordon's cooking and I sleep. That's it. I'd love being useful for a change.”

Jamie hesitated, yet Brad wasn't his brother and they'd become friends. Letting him watch the stand wouldn't threaten her independence, and after the way he'd phrased the suggestion, it would be churlish to refuse. “That would be great. I'll nap in the trailer and you can get me if I'm needed.”

“Go home if you want.”

“The trailer's fine.”

She went inside and lay in the bunk Zack had used. It smelled faintly of a man's aftershave. She recalled the brief moment on the dunes when he'd kissed her...sensation streaking through her body until she was doused by cold reality.

It was almost enough to make her question her choices over the past couple of years, which was doubly annoying. She was content and happy living in Granddad's house with Marlin as her companion—a hot kiss notwithstanding, Zack Denning wouldn't be nearly as much company as a persistent feline.

She resolutely turned over and pushed the thought away.

* * *

K
IM
USUALLY
LOVED
the busy bustle of San Francisco, but by Wednesday following her return she was pacing her office between meetings with clients. The accusations she'd thrown at Brad echoed in her ears; she should have been more sensitive to his pride. And just as bad...how could she have tactlessly mentioned the possibility of him getting blown up forever? Her father and uncle were both former naval officers and she was proud of their service.