Last Chance Harbor (14 page)

“Your mother doesn’t know any of this?”

“She knows Bethany and I broke up. That’s all. She doesn’t know I was sharing my life with a common, scum-sucking con artist. I know I’ll have to tell her at some point. But it’s difficult to admit to such blatant stupidity.”

“You’ll need to find the right time and tell her face-to-face, go back to Philly to do it. But then you already know what you have to do.”

“Yeah.”

“And up to now you’ve been unable to find any trace of her?”

“That’s right. Even the name she used was phony. Why didn’t I check up on that before I left? Why didn’t I do a background check on her?”

“Stop it. That was certainly an option but not a normal routine occurrence between lovers. Perhaps in this day and time it’s becoming more so, but you can’t beat yourself up because you crossed paths with a scammer. You’ll find her. I’ll help you. You’ll get her to give you back your grandfather’s—”

“Don’t you understand? What I had the sketches stored in is probably long gone by now. She more than likely sold it off right along with everything else.”

“What were they stored in?”

“A brown leather blueprint tube that belonged to my grandfather on my mother’s side. He was an architect. What difference does it make though? I doubt she knew or didn’t care what was inside or how much I valued the drawings. They’re gone and I won’t be able to get them back.”

“You don’t know that for certain. Did you try looking in the immediate area for some of your stuff?”

“I wasted six weeks tracking down every pawn shop or thrift store within a fifty-mile radius of Philly. I didn’t find a single item.”

“Then the first step is finding her.”

“You aren’t listening to me, Julianne. Don’t you see? I don’t even know the woman’s real name. I still don’t.”

“But you said you didn’t need Scott’s help, that she would likely surface on her own. You were bluffing back there.”

He gave her a sheepish look. “I can explain. When it came time to re-enlist, I put in for discharge and went to work in construction, took every job that came along to try to make enough dough so I could put it aside. I moved in with my mom, saved my cash to hire a private investigator. I wasted the money because when it came to Bethany, the guy came up empty.”

“I admit that is unusual. Did you turn her into the military police? NCIS?”

“You mean army CID?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Whatever it’s called.”

“No. Why would I? I wasn’t living on base when it happened. I did call Philly PD. They took a report.”

“But you were in the army when she did this to you. Because of that, the army investigators might want to know about it for their records. How long has it been since this happened?”

“Two years. But what good would it do to report her to the army now?”

“For one, it would ensure that what happened to you is on record. They get it on file and it means something. Second, it puts her alias on their radar so if she does this type of thing to another unsuspecting member of the military, it pops up. Not to mention her method of operation. Maybe she targets service personnel.”

“That’s not a bad idea. You aren’t just beautiful but smart, too.”

“Aww, thanks, I try.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Brent Cody and I ate a few meals together.”

“Is that code for dating? If so, then who is this Danny?”

“Brent and I never dated. Well, we went out once but nothing happened. We’re just friends. We’re more like cousins. As for Danny, he was the man I loved, grew up with. I think it’s fair to say we were soul mates.”

“See? Soul mates and yet you use the past tense. No relationship ever works out. It’s pointless to think it does.”

“Maybe you’re right. But we didn’t break up. Danny died in a car accident six weeks before our wedding day. This June, it’ll be five years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He needed to take that sad look off her face. After all, he’d been the one to put it there.

She wasn’t prepared when he moved in, took her chin in his hands. At the tilt of his head to meet her mouth, she knew what he wanted, what she needed.

The smell of jasmine and the sea hung on the rush of the breeze that lifted her hair. But it was the kiss that had her body lifting to his. They floated together in the moment. Or she did. Her feet left the ground as their bodies fused. She wrapped her arms around his waist, returned the kiss, heat for heat.

His hands trailed up her back. His touch sent shockwaves from head to toe. Warmth untangled knots inside. A tidal wave of need spiked and stretched, waking primitive lust. Sweet and soft soon yielded to wild and hard.

They devoured. They ravaged.

They finally relinquished their hold on one another. Even then, their steamy breath still hung in the cool night air.

Ryder spoke first. “That was…”

“Hot,” Julianne finished for him.

“And then some. I guess I’ll see you here tomorrow night.”

“Huh?”

“The party. For you.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. See you then.”

She watched him hop into his truck, watched as it disappeared into the darkness before heading inside. Climbing the stairs to her room, it wasn’t until she closed the door and leaned on the wood that she allowed herself to react. She let her hand fly to her heart, replaying the smoldering kiss. Feeling sixteen again, she felt her knees go weak.

“Damn it, Ryder McLachlan, you’re gonna be hard to resist.”

B
efore Julianne even opened her eyes the smell of cinnamon and bacon—two of her favorite things in the world—wafted into the room. Thinking someone must have come into the house and made French toast for her, she burrowed further into what felt like a soft cloud.

She wasn’t nearly ready to get up yet. Then she remembered where she was. Promise Cove. What a romantic-sounding name to go with the smoldering kiss Ryder had laid on her last night. Which had kept her up till the wee hours. No wonder she was still groggy.

Flopping over on her side, she focused one eye on the clock. Seven-forty-five.

Intent on lounging, taking advantage of every second at the B&B, she groaned when her cell phone dinged with a text message. She snatched it off the nightstand to read the display. It was from her father.

Are we still on to look at the house today?

Yep. But I don’t have a formal appointment to see the house.

Drop by then?

Why not? Play it by ear.
She keyed in the address.

What time?

Ten okay with you?

See you there.

It wasn’t so much the plan that got her moving but rather the continuous whiff of bacon. Because she needed to wake up, a shower sounded like the best option followed by a dose of caffeine.

She forced herself to sit up, to throw back the covers and crawl out of the warm cocoon. She’d almost reached the bathroom when she heard a plank creak coming from the deck outside. She wheeled around, saw a shadow cross in front of the French doors.

Broad daylight aside, she didn’t hesitate. She crossed the floor, threw open the door. Scott stood a few feet away.

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Make the boards creak like that?”

“Trade secret.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake. You’re enough of an enigma without talking in code. What can you tell me about the Jennings’ house? Nick said you were the go-to guy on its history.”

“I’d say the people who lived there know it best. I can’t top firsthand information.”

“But how do I get Landon Jennings to sell it to me? I’m not even sure he should, what with its past and all. What do you think?”

“I think it needs a new owner and some TLC.”

“So it’s worth buying? No horrible repairs lurking in the pipes or the walls?”

“That’s what an inspector is for. Make your own assessment. Have your father check it out. After all, he’s the expert.”

“But can’t you just give me a little insight here?”

“Like I said, give it some love. It’s past time, Julianne.”

It wasn’t until the water from her shower sluiced over her body that she decided Scott hadn’t been talking about the house, at least not entirely. It was past time she moved on from Danny. Ryder might prove the distraction she needed to do that. Based on the lip-lock they’d shared last night, if the man was half as good at sex as he was at kissing, it would be an “affair to remember.” Smiling at her own joke, she grabbed a towel from the rack. Good thing she’d brought the sexiest dress she owned for tonight.

At ten o’clock
she pulled up to the Ocean Street address about the same time her dad did. Before the two approached the house, they stood at the curb comparing strategies.

“I need your opinion on the foundation. Is it structurally sound? Does it have any cracks from past earthquake damage? That sort of thing. If you say it’s a go then we’ll hunt down Mr. Jennings at his nursery, bug him again about selling it.”

John Dickinson took out a clipboard from his truck. “Got my list right here. If we get to look inside I’ll check for signs of termites, mold and water damage, too.”

“Check, check and recheck.”

It wasn’t until she looked up that she spotted Landon at the side of the house holding a tray of bedding plants while a woman knelt on the ground next to him spading the dirt.

“That’s the owner,” Julianne whispered to her dad.

“Looks like you’re about to get your answer then,” John stated. “Why would they be putting in plants now though?”

“I have a feeling it’s what they do.”

Julianne watched as the couple approached her van. “Mr. Jennings.”

“Call me, Landon. And this is my wife, Shelby.”

Shelby offered her hand. “Good to meet you. I understand from Landon you want to see inside. Come on, follow me. We’ll show you what you’re up against.”

As she followed the couple up the path, she introduced them to her dad. “I’ve got the best carpenter in Santa Cruz right here.”

“You’ll need it,” Landon muttered as he led the way up to the rickety porch. “Needs work but there’s no termite damage. What you see is due to age.”

The four walked into the living room.

The dust and grime made Julianne sneeze. But the bare, arched windows let in a wash of natural light and that meant only one thing. She wouldn’t be living in a dungeon. It caused her to overlook the layer of grime on the hardwood floors.

As they stepped into the living room, John told his daughter, “If you’re worried about the floors, we can sand and refinish the living room and bedrooms. The staircase needs some upgrading, new wood in places. Won’t take all that much to get them back to the original wood.”

Working their way into the kitchen, she sized up the room, walked off the square footage. “These pine cabinets would have to go. They date the place.”

“We could replace this tile covering with the slate flooring I picked up on sale before Christmas at that salvage place. It’d work in here as an inexpensive alternative. You know the one. It has a nice copper look to it.”