Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She Goes\A Promise for the Baby\That Summer at the Shore (63 page)

“I think it's a raccoon,” she said.

Zack yawned and settled back. “We have to be careful at the resort. We've put springs on all the doors so they shut automatically and even installed special screens on guest patio doors and balconies so someone can't accidentally leave them ajar, allowing little bandits to explore the rooms.”

“Has anyone blocked the screen and let one in anyway?”

“Yup.” His voice was sleepy. “We give discreet warnings, but one guest thought it would be entertaining to get a video of raccoons in their room. His wife nearly sued for divorce on the spot. The raccoons peed on her designer silk scarf and made off with a five-carat diamond pendant. And I hesitate to say what they did to her Prada shoes and purse.”

His gravelly laugh did peculiar things to Jamie's stomach and she reminded herself it was the enforced intimacy that was boosting her awareness. As a counterbalance she pictured an evening with Tim, then stopped cold. She'd rather deal with unsettled nerves than rehash the dead past.

They traded watches at 3:00 a.m., and she woke two hours later to see Zack crawling into his bunk. Since it was light outside, there was no point in staying awake, so she dropped asleep again.

Jamie's eyes were gritty when she finally dragged herself out of bed, and she scowled when Zack greeted her cheerfully. She poured two cups of coffee from her thermos, thinking that for someone who'd claimed he wasn't a morning person, Zack was in a mighty good mood.

“I've got an idea,” he announced.

“Then don't let it get stale,” she grumbled as he drank from the steaming mug.

“Lord, this is tasty,” he said appreciatively.

“Granddad's recipe. So what's your big idea?”

“You should come to dinner tonight at the resort.”

Jamie choked and coffee sprayed onto the table. “
That's
your brilliant plan? Correct me if I'm mistaken, but didn't we already run that one over with a golf cart and beat it to death with a club?”

He handed her a paper towel. “The way I see things, it's incredibly unlikely that my people are involved. But either way, if we're seen eating together it will demonstrate solidarity.”

Oh, great. More time with Zack. Yet as much as it hurt to admit, his idea had merit. Jamie nodded slowly as she mopped up the spilled coffee.

“Excellent,” he said. “But you might try keeping your temper in check so people are convinced we're friends.”

“What? You've got a lot of nerve implying I'm a powder keg ready to ignite. You're the one who roared in here the first day with a full head of steam.”

“You were... I
thought
you were trespassing.”

“So if you make a stupid assumption, acting like an overbearing, uptight jackass is justified?”

“Uptight is a matter of opinion.” He put on his shoes and jacket before going to the door, throwing a parting shot over his shoulder. “And I
am
picking you up at your house, to enhance the show of friendship. I'll be there at six.”

She would've followed him out and continued the argument, except she heard a truck arriving with one of her deliveries. Probably Burt Friesen; he was always first. Rushing to put on her shoes, she stepped out to see Zack drive by with a friendly wave as though they were best buddies.

“Morning, Jamie,” Burt said. “Wasn't that the owner of Mar Vista?”

“That's him,” she murmured as Burt lifted boxes from his pickup. “He came by and we had a cup of coffee.” Which was the truth—just not the complete story.

“I heard he was upset that you'd set up business here, so I guess it's not an issue anymore.”

Jamie did her best to smile. “We've worked it out.”

“That's nice. We all need good neighbors.”

Good neighbors. That was a joke. Zack Denning was a pain in her neck along with a few other places, and she didn't know what to do about it.

* * *

Z
ACK
DROVE
A
section of his normal daily-inspection route and then headed to the office. His energy was running high—the argument with Jamie had put him on his toes. However tired and grouchy, her wit was unimpaired. All the same, it seemed as if everything was a battle with her. Of course, he could have been more tactful, but triggering her temper was fun.

He found Kim at the tennis courts, zipping her racket into a protective sleeve. There was a faint sheen of perspiration on her forehead and the glow of a vigorous workout, but no sign of a play partner.

She waved. “Hey, Zack.”

“Don't tell me you were practicing against the backboard. I doubt Brad is up to a round of tennis.” Even as Zack said it, he hoped his brother hadn't tried to keep up with Kim. Brad was closemouthed regarding his condition, but his persistent limp told Zack enough.

“The tennis coach just left. Is there
anything
you don't provide at Mar Vista?”

“I hope not,” he said. The coach's job included playing with guests in need of an opponent, but he generally wasn't on duty until 9:00 a.m. He must have come in early. Hardly a surprise—most men fell over themselves to accommodate such a beautiful woman.

She examined him from head to toe. “What's going on—did you sleep in your clothes?”

He shrugged, deciding he ought to shower before encountering another guest. “It's a long story. I'd better get going. See you later.”

After cleaning up, Zack went by the front desk and had them make a reservation at the Sunfish Grotto for six-fifteen.

“Yes, sir. By the way, the new koi fish for the serenity garden have been released in the ponds.”

Pleased, Zack went to see the exotic newcomers drifting in the water. He still wasn't sure the Japanese-style garden was right for Mar Vista, but the guests weren't complaining. At night the low lights and hidden corners offered privacy to couples who didn't want to walk the ocean bluffs or find other romantic locations.

He hadn't shown Jamie the garden, and he likely wouldn't be doing so anytime soon. Whatever Jamie believed, he played fair. And it wouldn't be fair to show her so much as an extra blade of grass, because she'd have to stay to protect her silly fruit stand. Besides, pretending to be on cordial terms with him would stretch her minuscule patience to the limit without provocation.

Why did she charge through the world with her fists ready? His dad would call her a worthy opponent, but while Zack admired self-reliance, her determination to take care of herself and fight all comers was unusually strong.

Soon after three he got a text from Jamie. It wasn't a cancellation, but she was reminding him that she'd prefer going to the Clam Shell. He'd wanted to show off the Grotto, but he could take her there another evening. It was a reasonable request; she would barely finish at the fruit stand in time to get home and be ready for their public meal out, so it should be her choice where they dined.

* * *

B
RAD
THOUGHT
IT
was curious that Kim was back at Mar Vista so soon, but he was glad to see her. The awkwardness he'd expected from their quarrel never materialized. Kim simply hugged him and suggested they explore the art galleries in town.

The resort had loaner vehicles for guests, but Zack had tossed him a set of keys the day he'd flown in, saying he hardly ever used his car, so Brad might as well. Like everything with Zack, his ride was quality—a sleek, sporty BMW. He didn't know many jarheads who could afford a Beamer, and he pictured his own vehicle, a twelve-year-old SUV, stored behind his parents' garage. It was somewhat beat-up, but it ran smoothly and had come with no monthly payments.

“You haven't been into Warrington before now?” Brad queried as he parked on the central shopping street in town. “Zack said you came to the grand opening.”

Kim grinned. “You know Zack—I was lucky to have a minute to eat, much less do sightseeing.”

It was true, and who would understand Zack better than Kim?

The community seemed to be flourishing, particularly the businesses catering to the tourists. Off the main street they strolled into a small art studio, where Kim was taken with a sculpture of seabirds, though she did a double take when she glanced at the identifying information.

“Too pricey?” Brad asked.

“It's not for sale, but check the artist's name.”

Brad read the placard explaining it was a piece by a George Jenkins. “So?”

“That was Jamie Conroe's grandfather. The same name, at least.”

He read the placard again. It was dated 1952. “You think it's the same guy?”

“Anything's possible. The decor in Jamie's house is exquisite. I thought she must have completely redone it after her grandfather died, but maybe not.” Kim turned to the gallery attendant. “Was this a local artist? I heard there was a George Jenkins who used to live near the new resort.”

“Yes, ma'am. It's the same man. He didn't sell many pieces in Warrington, but he gave this one to my aunt in the 1950s.”

Next they went across the street to a picturesque café. Brad ordered the mocha latte for Kim and regular black coffee for himself, along with two slices of blackberry pie. According to the sign out front, it was the “most delicious pie in the county.”

Kim shook her head as she sipped her foamy concoction. “It's odd that we saw a sculpture by Jamie's grandfather. He was quite talented.”

“Not so odd.” Brad swallowed a bite of pie. It
was
delicious, and much more his taste over the elaborate dishes they served at Mar Vista. “You wouldn't believe the flukes that occurred overseas. I once had two guys assigned to my unit who were cousins—they hadn't seen each other since they were ten. But Jamie's grandfather
was
an artist, so it's really not a coincidence to find his work in the same town where he lived.”

“I guess you're right. Listen, Brad. One of the reasons I came up this weekend...” Her voice trailed off and Brad wondered what the problem might be. As a rule, Kim was more articulate than most people.

“Yes?” he prompted.

She took a deep breath. “Saying that stuff about you getting blown up was terribly insensitive of me.”

He began laughing. It was the best chuckle he'd had in ages. “Good God, Kim. If you think
that
was insensitive, you ought to hear the things we hurled at each other in the hospital.”

“It's not funny,” she said stiffly.

“You don't have to tell me, but if I didn't laugh, I wouldn't see the point of going on.”

“Well...I wanted to apologize and I'm relieved it didn't offend you.”

“Actually, I liked it. You can't know how tiresome it is to be around people always walking on verbal eggshells. You forgot to watch your mouth and it was a treat.”

* * *

I
T
WAS
AFTER
five when Jamie was able to stash the remnants of the day's stock in the truck. She dropped the receipts into the night deposit at the bank and got home shortly before six. A long hot shower would have been nice, but instead she ducked in and out in nothing flat.

“Be there in a second,” she called as the doorbell rang. She pulled a robe on and dashed to peek out the front window. It was Zack. She opened the door. “Come in. I only got home a couple minutes ago and I'm hurrying as fast as I can.”

“Don't rush,” he assured her, though his voice was rough, making her aware that she had nothing on under the old pink terry.

Jamie hurried to her bedroom. She sternly reminded herself this was not a date; she and Zack didn't even like each other, though it hadn't kept her from imagining how he looked without clothing.

Hmm.... No time for lustful fantasies. She searched her closet for something suitable to wear—the kind of outfit you wore to dinner with a friend or for an informal business meal. Her aqua T-shirt and tan A-line skirt would have to do. A pair of silver earrings her grandfather had cast years ago completed the outfit.

She went into the living room and found Zack on the couch, defending himself against Marlin's determined advances.

“Did you get my message about going to the Clam Shell?”

“Yeah.” He lifted Marlin from his lap, but the feline promptly jumped back onto Zack's legs.

“Come on, boy,” Jamie urged, luring the cat to the floor with a handful of treats. “Sorry. He got spoiled last winter when I was here all day, so now he's hungry for attention.”

Zack stood and brushed himself off. “Doesn't he know when people don't want him on top of them?”

“You don't have experience with cats, do you? If someone doesn't want them around, that person becomes their favorite target.”

“You're kidding.”

“Not a bit. It's part of their twisted feline sense of humor. I love cats, but I admit that dogs are easier animals to get along with.”

“I wouldn't know.”

“You wouldn't?” Jamie broke off in amazement. “You've never had a dog
or
a cat, even as a kid?”

“No. Mom was allergic to pet dander or something, and I don't have time for an animal now.”

What an insight to the guy's life, and he didn't even seem to know what he'd missed.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Zack's hand on the small of her back was just a polite gesture as they left the house, but it sent electric currents up and down her spine anyway.

CHAPTER EIGHT

A
S
J
AMIE
SANK
onto the butter-soft leather of the Mercedes passenger seat, she reminded herself to keep a friendly appearance.

Friends. Pals.
Buddies.

What a joke. Fortunately, it didn't have to be genuine; they just had to make it look good.

Zack drove into the parking lot and parked in the most visible spot, near the parking valet.

“Hello...Brian,” he said as they passed the valet, his pause nearly imperceptible as he glanced at the employee's name tag. Jamie had already noted the Mar Vista staff wore tags identifying them for guests—and apparently for their boss.

“Good evening, Mr. Denning,” the valet replied.

“Brian, have you met our neighbor, Ms. Conroe?”

The man barely blinked. “She may not remember, but I knew Jamie when we were kids and she was visiting her grandfather.”

“Of course I remember you, B.B.,” Jamie said, using his old nickname and giving him a wink. She was surprised by his lack of expression. Brian Berk had been one of the funniest boys Jamie had ever met; he'd told the stupidest elephant jokes and made them hilarious. “Is your sense of humor still getting you in the dog house?”

For a moment Brian's bland mask slipped and he grinned. “I swear I wasn't the one who painted the dog blue.”

“No, but you were the one who added the eight ball.”

“Hey, I was twelve and the paint wasn't toxic.” All at once Brian looked at his employer apprehensively. Perhaps he wasn't supposed to be too informal with the resort clientele.

Zack smiled easily. “Someday I'll have to hear the whole story. I hope you have pictures.”

“I...er...think my mother has some,” Brian stuttered.

“She's probably saving them to embarrass you when your kids are old enough. There are a few my own mother is holding over my head, even though I keep reminding her blackmail is illegal.”

“That would be Mom's speed.”

Zack extended his arm and they shook hands. “We'd better go so we can make our dinner reservation.”

The Clam Shell might be the resort's casual restaurant, but it was elegant enough in Jamie's opinion. At least she wasn't too underdressed. There were people in evening clothes, but also men in shorts and women in jeans—designer jeans, to be sure, but still jeans.

“Evening, Sean.” Zack greeted the maître d' without the hesitation he'd shown with Brian. No doubt he ate there often enough to know the restaurant employees.

“I understand you're eating in tonight, Mr. Denning.”

“Yes. Sean, this is Jamie Conroe, one of Mar Vista's neighbors. Jamie, this is Sean Deacons. He keeps things running at the Clam Shell.”

The maître d' stepped forward and bowed. “Ms. Conroe—our chef has spoken of you.”

“I'm sure he has,” Zack inserted casually. “We're fortunate to have Jamie coordinating the purchase of organic produce for our restaurants. She's brought the quality to an exceptional level.”

The maître d' led them to a section of tables on a low platform and Jamie figured Zack had chosen the location for its visibility. Sean would have held Jamie's chair for her, but Zack beat him to it.

As Jamie looked around the restaurant, she noticed various employees covertly watching their boss. Whether it was curiosity or concern that he was inspecting their work, she didn't know. The comments from the woman at the fruit stand implied he was a micromanager and a nitpicker of major proportions.

A server came with the menus and Zack introduced them with rare charm.

Once the employees got through gossiping about the evening, Jamie guessed she'd practically be seen as a member of the Denning family.

She opened the menu and studied it, recognizing some of the dishes that Zack had brought the past few nights. Prices were conspicuously absent—asking the cost would probably be considered gauche at Mar Vista's rarefied strata.

“How nice to see you, Zack,” a woman said, stopping by the table, a tall man next to her.

“Cheryl, Linc.” Zack stood to shake her hand and that of her husband. “Welcome to Mar Vista. I noticed your names on the reservation list.”

“Oh, yes, we got your note. Our investment manager told us he'd visited your resort, so we had to see it for ourselves,” the man explained.

“Terrific.” Zack turned to Jamie. “Let me introduce you to my neighbor and friend, Jamie Conroe. Jamie, this is Cheryl and Linc Augustine. I've known them for fifteen years. We met when I was working at a resort in Pennsylvania.”

The woman gave Jamie a swift visual inspection, blatantly assessing her. Jamie lifted her chin, thinking of cats circling and trying to decide who was alpha in the crowd. Well, she didn't have to be top cat, but she wasn't settling for bottom of the heap, either.

“Nice to meet you.” Linc shook her hand; unlike his wife, his eyes were filled with frank appreciation. Not that he seemed the type of guy who strayed—he simply wasn't blind to other women.

“Could we get together tomorrow, Zack?” Cheryl asked. “We'd love a personal tour of Mar Vista. From what we've seen, it's everything you intended it to be. Linc is already planning our next visit.”

“It would be an honor for such old friends,” Zack assured her. “I enjoy showing it off to people.”

“I can vouch for that,” Jamie said with a straight face.

Zack coughed and picked up a goblet of water.

Luckily the Augustines moved on at Sean's urging, who was waiting to seat them.

“Thanks a lot,” Zack muttered, sitting and gulping the rest of his water. “I almost choked to death.”

Additional guests strolled by and Jamie marveled at how well Zack remembered them, especially when he seemed to have trouble recalling the names of some employees. Of course, Mar Vista did have a large staff, and they'd only been up and running for a few months. With turnover, there also could be new people he hadn't met yet. At the thought, she pressed her lips together. She was making excuses for him.

“Sorry for the interruptions,” he said. “I should have gotten a different table. You haven't even had a chance to study the menu.”

She shrugged. “That's okay. How do you know so many of your guests?”

“I've managed at a number of resorts and you get to know the people who visit on a regular basis. That's why they're here—because they know me. I hope they'll return because of Mar Vista itself.”

Jamie thought she saw a hint of concern in Zack's expression and she supposed it was natural for him to be worried for his investment. It sounded as if he'd been planning Mar Vista for a long time.

Or he could be playing on her sympathy and wasn't concerned in the slightest.

Lord.
When did she get so cynical? Zack had suggested she was a bitter divorcée, but he was wrong. Her view of the world had nothing to do with her divorce; it was from years of contact with Tim and his kind. Her ex-husband had attracted similar-minded people—men and women who cared less for kindness and honesty than for profit and winning the game. It would take a while to shed the excessive caution she'd learned from being around them. Still, it had proved an education on how some people operated—a lesson she shouldn't altogether forget.

“Pardon me, Mr. Denning.” It was the maître d'. “Mr. Chen asked if you were available to step into the kitchen.”

“Certainly. Jamie, do you mind?”

“No problem.”

She read the menu while she waited. Everything looked fabulous, with the unique flair she'd expect from a top chef. But Gordon also wisely offered a range of familiar dishes for the less adventurous. Nearby diners, studying the menu as well, were joking about the notation on certain items, stating they could be prepared with organic products upon request.

“Only in California,” declared one. “What does our daughter call it—the land of bean sprouts and gurus?”

“And Disneyland,” the wife added.

“That's right.”

Despite their humor, the couple opted for organic ingredients when they ordered their meal. It made sense; there was a growing focus on eating healthier, and she felt a flash of satisfaction, knowing she'd helped get the best produce to Gordon's kitchen.

Jamie looked around the restaurant again. In an upper section she saw a circular dining area with broad windows overlooking the cove to the south of the resort. She didn't expect to be back, so it would have been nice to sit there, but the more public location was best.

The evening was going the way it should.

Zack was making sure as many guests and employees as possible knew who she was, and that their relationship was friendly. If their conversation occasionally had an edge to it, she doubted anyone had noticed. Once the news got out, the problems at the stand might go away. And once she got Zack to accept that she wasn't selling Granddad's land, there would be little need to see each other. Life in Warrington would be much simpler, the way she'd planned it to be.

* * *

Z
ACK
HURRIED
INTO
the large kitchen that was the hub for two restaurants and a banquet hall. Gordon directed the various chefs and circulated food similar to a maestro conducting a symphony. Patiently he waited until the chef saw him.

“Sean mentioned that Ms. Conroe is here,” Gordon said, hurrying over. “I know she's favorable to spicy food. Would she be agreeable to me preparing something off menu for her? And for you, naturally.”

Zack had the distinct impression that “and for you” was an afterthought. At a guess, he was still earning his way back into the chef's good graces.

“I'll ask, but I'm sure she'd be pleased. The same for me.”

“Send word with Sean.”

In another moment, Gordon was in the flow of his kitchen while Zack departed in relief. There was no disaster to address. He hadn't told Gordon that he'd invited Jamie to the resort in case the arrangement fell through. An unhappy chief chef made an unhappy kitchen.

“Major crisis?” Jamie queried as he regained his seat.

“Not even a small one. Gordon wanted to know if you were interested in eating something off menu. It's a compliment. He'll usually make a special for the day, but not for individuals.”

She appeared uncomfortable for some reason, but simply nodded. “That would be great.”

Signaling Sean, Zack said to let Gordon know they'd be pleased to have whatever he chose to prepare.

The wine steward brought the bottle Zack had ordered that afternoon and poured their glasses. Jamie sipped from her goblet and made a low sound of approval. “This is a Sonoma Valley wine, isn't it?”

“One of my favorites. Mar Vista carries a selection from around the world, but we specialize in California wines.”

“Brad says you both grew up in Virginia. How did you end up in Warrington?” she asked.

“The weather is better on the West Coast for a year-round resort—no hurricanes or heavy snow. I scouted locations for a decade before I found this one.”

“Hawaii's climate is even better.”

“The land is too expensive and staying in the continental United States makes us more accessible for short stays. Besides, the California coast has character, and I didn't want a typical location.”

“Define
typical.
”

As the conversation continued, Zack was relieved by how the evening was going. Kim came in after seven and was seated several tables away. She waved at them, but deliberately fixed her attention on the nearby clamshell fountain made of iridescent glass.

“Isn't that your lawyer?” Jamie asked, obviously tensing.

“Not right now,” he answered with a wry chuckle. “Kim informed me in no uncertain terms that she's here to relax and I'm not allowed to discuss anything legal. She did the same thing last weekend.”

“She comes up that often?”

“No, just the past few weeks. I'm glad she likes the place. She isn't a golfer, but we offer other recreation.”

A half smile played on Jamie's mouth and he wished he knew what she was thinking. The woman could give lessons to Mona Lisa with her enigmatic expressions.

It was strange. Feature for feature, Jamie was no more attractive than Kim. Yet when he looked at his former lover, he felt only a warm friendship. Jamie, on the other hand, was making his blood rush in a southern direction with the speed of a heat-seeking missile. Was his desire for her simply because she was so different from the women visiting the resort? No artifice, no attempt at sophistication, just annoying and stubborn. Her uniqueness had to be the explanation, along with his lack of a social life for so long.

“Mr. Denning?” It was the maître d'. “I have a message from the front desk.”

Sean gave him a sheet of paper; there'd been a mix-up in reservations and they were asking how he wanted it handled. He almost excused himself again, then changed his mind.

“Please tell the desk to take whatever action they feel is appropriate.”

“Certainly, sir,” Sean answered, clearly surprised, and Zack realized that ordinarily he would have charged in and dealt with it himself. In fact, he almost had. It was an odd shift and he wondered why he didn't feel his usual fierce need to supervise the situation.

Jamie raised her eyebrow when they were alone. “I don't mind if you have to take care of something.”

“No, it's minor. They can figure it out. Anyway, I'm sure our appetizers will arrive soon.”

* * *

T
HE
APPETIZERS
WERE
DELICIOUS
,
though it was hard for Jamie to relax and appreciate the food. She couldn't forget they were on display, and how could she be comfortable with Zack in any case? More than anything she wanted to get everything resolved and stop having him around.