All They Ever Wanted (4 page)

Ginger managed to break the kiss and put a sliver of distance between their bodies. “Are you picking on the sheriff again, Miles?” she asked.

Miles had never made a secret of the fact that he didn't particularly approve of his mother's relationship with a man who'd moved to town less than three years ago and was five years her junior to boot. But he had been in the minority within his family—not to mention the entire population of Chances Inlet. Not only that, but his mother had made it abundantly
clear that she wasn't much interested in her oldest son's opinion of her love life. Still it was good to know Gavin would likely hold the guy down while Miles beat the crap out of him if Lamar Hollister broke their mother's heart.

Miles held up his hands. “Not me this time.” He pointed to his brother.

Ginger looked at Gavin expectantly.

Gavin's sigh was resolute. “My mom is worried that Lamar will lose interest in her while she's recuperating.”

Miles snickered at his brother's sugar-coated version of the truth.

“Oh, that's just silly, Gavin,” Ginger said. “Have you seen the way the guy looks at her?”

Both brothers exchanged a pained look. They
had
seen the way the sheriff looked at their mother. Like she was lunch.
Damn.
The queasy feeling returned to Miles' stomach.

“You're right,” Gavin reassured Ginger like a man bent on getting her naked in the next five minutes. “Mom's just being silly. You can remind her of that tomorrow. Why don't we go up and eat that wonderful dinner you had planned?”

She glanced between the two men. “We can't just leave Miles. Don't be so rude, Gavin.” Her elfin face lit up in a smile. “Why don't you join us? I made more than enough.”

Miles looked past Ginger and took in the pained expression on his brother's face. Ginger's lack of talent in the kitchen was legendary among the townsfolk of Chances Inlet. Clearly she made up for it in other ways, however, judging by the satisfied smirk his brother wore daily.

“Maybe another time, Ginger, thank you. Lori usually fixes enough dinner for both Cassidy and me. I'm on my way back there now.”

Ginger's eyes glazed over briefly and her voice had a bit of a euphoric tone to it. “Oh, I remember those dinners Lori made when I lived at the inn. They were amazing.”

“I'm sure whatever you made will be just as delicious, sweetheart,” Gavin said. His encouragement was likely born out of the two chili cheese dogs Miles watched him devour at the pier earlier this afternoon. “I'll catch up with you on our morning
run tomorrow, bro.” And with that, Gavin hustled Ginger up the stairs to the loft, slamming the door behind them.

Midas let out a whimper and flopped to the floor with a sigh.

“Yeah, three's probably company up there, huh, pal?” Miles stood up and switched off the lights. “Come on. You can come hang out with me until my conference call later tonight. Right now, we need to conduct some serious negotiations with the mystery who works in Mom's kitchen.”

T
he muted sounds of the grandfather clock chiming the dinner hour floated up from the foyer of the inn. A late-day breeze ruffled the curtains in the window as Lori crouched on the carpet and rummaged through the large duffel bag containing all of her worldly possessions.
Scratch that
. One of her most important possessions was missing: her grandmother's gold wedding band.

Tessa, Lori's Australian sheep dog, breathed out a consoling sigh as she laid her nose down on her front paws. Perched on top of the double bed in the small third-floor bedroom reserved for staff, the dog tracked every movement with her brilliant blue eyes as Lori carefully unpacked and then repacked the bag.

“I know it was in here. I check it every night before we go to sleep.”

The dog whimpered softly and Lori tried not to panic. That ring was her talisman—the last remaining piece of the life she'd once had. It was the only article of jewelry she'd taken when she'd made her getaway. Lori hadn't wanted any of the other expensive items—although she could have likely pawned
at least one piece, which would have gone a long way toward making her present circumstances not quite so dire. But none of that other jewelry had actually belonged to her. The pieces were all part of an elaborate ruse, just like the life she'd been living the past several years.

The lump in her throat was painful as she dug her fingers through the outside pocket for a third time. “It has to be here.”

Tessa's head popped up when the door swung open and a big golden retriever bounded into the room. The dog made a beeline for the open duffel bag, rummaging his snout through Lori's things as if he was looking for a long lost bone.

“Hey! Get out, Midas!” Lori shoved the eighty-pound fur ball away just as Cassidy trounced through the open door.

“That crazy mutt was drinking out of the toilet in the foyer bath again,” Cassidy complained. “I mean, he's got a full bowl of water in the kitchen. What's so special about the toilet?”

“Haven't you ever heard of knocking?” Lori's panicked tone shocked Cassidy into silence. The girl froze, her hand hovering over Tessa's head.

Lori squeezed her eyes shut so as not to let the perceptive seventeen-year-old see how anxious she'd become. She was ashamed, too; she had no business barking at the teenager like that. Cassidy had come a long way in the past several months, stepping out from behind the belligerent Gothic personality she'd donned like a shield, finally engaging with kids her own age. But the vestiges of that lonely young girl still hovered just beneath the surface. Lori had no trouble recognizing the look because she saw the same fears whenever she glanced at her own reflection in a mirror.

“You're leaving.” The hint of despair in Cassidy's voice cut through Lori, making her feel even more ashamed.

“No.” Lori quickly zipped up the bag and stowed it back under her bed before coming to her feet. “I was just looking for something.”

Cassidy's amber eyes were shiny as she stroked Tessa's back. “Don't lie. Your bag is packed.” The snarky teenager was back in full bloom. “You promised Mrs. Mac you'd stay. Hell, you promised
me
.”

“I'm not leaving, Cass.” Lori placed a hand on the teenager's tense shoulder and gently squeezed. “I was just looking for something I must have misplaced. That's all.”

Cassidy's hard swallow reverberated beneath Lori's palm. “But why haven't you unpacked your stuff? You've been here for what, nearly five months now?” She shrugged off Lori's hand and stalked over to the bureau tucked beneath the dormer window, where she pulled open a drawer, empty except for an old sheet of shelf paper. “If you're staying, why not put your things away?”

Because I'm not staying.

That feeling of the need to flee continued to gnaw at Lori. She was becoming too attached to the inn and these people. The longer she stuck around, the more complacent she became. And she couldn't afford to have her true identity discovered. Not here.

Lori softened her voice and forced herself to relax in hopes of placating Cassidy. “I'm just neat that way. I like to know where my stuff is, okay?” It was as good an excuse as any.

“Is it like one of those OCD things?”

Yanking at Midas' collar when the dog tried to crawl beneath the bed, Lori nodded, hoping that Cassidy would buy the excuse.

“Or are you scared you'll have to make a run for it in the middle of the night?”

Cassidy hadn't graduated at the top of her class for nothing. Lori avoided the girl's glare. In all likelihood she would be found out and would have to make a run for it on short notice. But the last thing she needed was Cassidy's attention and concern. If the teen was keeping a close eye on Lori, then so would everyone else. And that wouldn't do. Taking a deep breath and saying a prayer that she appeared more assured than she felt, Lori looked the girl directly in the eye. “I promised I'd stay until Patricia is better and can run things on her own. From the looks of it, that won't be until you leave for college. I won't go back on my word.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“Who?”

Cassidy took a few steps closer. The girl was taller than Lori's
five feet six inches and was built with a much larger bone structure. She'd been working out the past few months to lose the pubescent pudginess she'd used as part of her camouflage, but Cassidy still wasn't afraid to intimidate others with her size. “Whoever you're running from. This isn't like that movie where your ex-husband is going to come and burn the B and B down, is it? Do we need to tell the sheriff?”

“There's nothing to tell the sheriff.”
Except that maybe there is a thief staying at the B and B because that ring
had
been in the bag last night.
Lori reached for Cassidy's hand and gave it another squeeze. “I'm just a little down on my luck. No one is in any danger because of me.” It was the truth. If the mess she'd found herself in could physically harm anyone at the Tide Me Over Inn or in Chances Inlet, Lori would be out of town in a nanosecond. Of that she was sure.

Cassidy looked down at Lori's hand covering hers. The girl was silent a moment before she spoke softly. “Just promise me you won't disappear on me.”

Lori's chest constricted. Cassidy was essentially on her own. And Lori knew all too well what that feeling of isolation felt like. But the teenager had the McAlisters and the entire town of Chances Inlet looking after her. She'd be fine in the long run. It wouldn't do for her to get too attached to Lori.

“Oh, please, once you get to college, you won't have to hang out with the hired help anymore.” Lori avoided making any promises, quickly changing the subject before Cassidy could call her on it. “I made your favorite: chicken salad. Why don't we grab some dinner while the guests are all at the various restaurants downtown having theirs?”

Cassidy eyed her warily before nodding. Lori breathed a sigh of relief, snapping her fingers for the dogs to follow as she ushered Cassidy out of her room. She'd just have to conduct a more thorough search for the ring later tonight.

“A sandwich sounds good, as long as you leave off all the sprouts and twigs that Ginger insists on putting in everything she cooks.” Cassidy stomped down the back staircase that led down to the kitchen area.

Lori bit back a smile. Ginger had spent years training for
a career as a ballerina. Her wholesome eating habits had been widely discussed by everyone in town when she'd first arrived.

“Bernice was just here,” Cassidy continued. “She said Kate told her that Mrs. Mac is coming home tomorrow.”

Bernice was the queen bee of Chances Inlet's gossip hive. Any information told to or overheard by the woman was spread around town with more efficiency than an Amber Alert.

“But she won't be a hundred percent for a while so you still can't leave yet,” Cassidy said as they made their way into the spacious kitchen awash with the late afternoon sunlight that was streaming in from the two large box bay windows. Both dogs scrambled on the hardwood floor making their way to the screen door.

“Who can't leave yet?”

Lori's steps faltered briefly at the sound of Miles' voice. She glanced over to see him resting a lean hip against the large center island. Still dressed in the clothes he'd worn for the interview, charcoal slacks and a crisp white shirt that accentuated his icy blue eyes and summer tan, he paused before taking a sip from a glass of lemonade. A dark eyebrow arched above those keen eyes as he looked right through Lori. He routinely made a point of ignoring her, except she had the niggling sensation he saw her more clearly than anyone else. The feeling put her on edge whenever he was around.

It was as if he knew she couldn't vote in the district and he'd written her off. His disdain riled Lori more than she'd like. Which was ridiculous since her goal was to ensure that her existence in the town of Chances Inlet went unnoticed. It didn't help that the air crackled with tension—and something else she didn't want to analyze—whenever he was near.

Cassidy yanked open the screen door and both dogs sprinted off into the sprawling green grass of the inn's backyard. “Oh, don't worry, Miles. Lori isn't going anywhere.” She walked over to the island and poured herself a glass of lemonade. “You can concentrate on beating The GTO Grandma. Lori and I will handle things here at the B and B.”

Not surprising, Cassidy had given herself a larger role than
necessary. Like Bernice, the teenager liked to be in the thick of things.

“I'm happy you're so willing to pitch in more, Cassidy,” Miles said, a trace of humor in his voice. “You've done a great job manning the Patty Wagon and handling the occasional tweet or Facebook post on the inn's social media account.”

The teenager pulled a loaf of crusty bread out of the bread box, a slight blush staining her cheeks at Miles' praise.

“I take it you've both heard by now that my mother is coming home?” he asked.

Miles' eyes actually lingered a moment on Lori and she felt their heat burn a path straight to the parts of her that hadn't seen any action in months. This distracting man was the last person Lori wanted her body reacting to. The feeling of needing to flee began to eat at her again. She pulled out a container of chicken salad from the fridge.

“Yep,” Cassidy replied. “It'll be good to have her home again. I know she's anxious to get back to her inn.”

“Just because she's on the premises doesn't mean she'll be assuming her duties around here right away,” a voice said from the back porch.

Lamar Hollister, the sheriff for Chances Inlet, stepped inside the screen door, twirling his campaign hat between his fingers as the two dogs took turns snaking between his long legs. Somewhere close to the age of fifty, the sheriff was ruggedly handsome, like one of those virile guys cast in a pickup truck commercial. The military veteran was taller than the McAlister brothers, with broad shoulders, sandy hair that was graying slightly at the temples, and a very serious chin. His eyes gave nothing away—unless he was gazing at Patricia McAlister. Then the love he so obviously felt for her shone brightly, often making Lori feel like a voyeur whenever she was in the same room with the engaged couple.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Miles stiffened defensively. If Miles had reservations about Lori, his mistrust of the sheriff was just as vehement. In this case, though, Lori knew there was at least a reasonable explanation behind Miles' animosity toward Lamar Hollister. Patricia's son was
obviously having a lot of trouble adjusting to the fact that his mother was moving on after her husband's sudden death. The fact that the sheriff was a newcomer to Chances Inlet likely didn't help matters. Lori knew firsthand about that.

Miles eyed the older man with a cool, steady gaze. “For once we agree on something, Sheriff.”

“Oh, I'm sure there are a lot of things we agree on, Miles,” the sheriff drawled. “The least of which is the fact that your mother needs to recuperate fully before she returns to running this place full-time.”

“I have no intention of jeopardizing my mother's recovery. You needn't worry, Sheriff. The inn is in good hands.”

“I'm not worried about the B and B, Miles. I'm worried about your mother.”

“That makes two of us,” Miles said stiffly.

The two men exchanged a silent stare before the sheriff glanced over at Lori, who was doing her best to ignore their exchange while scooping chicken salad onto slices of the bread.

“I was wondering if you had anything left over from the afternoon tea that I could take to the rehab center. Tricia hasn't been eating well since the accident and I know she'd enjoy one of your special cupcakes.”

“I'll make up a plate.” Lori grabbed a paper plate from the pantry, glad to be out of the line of fire between the two testosterone-charged men. Miles had practically vibrated away from the counter at the pet name the sheriff used to refer to his mother.