Last Chance Harbor (7 page)

After grabbing a
burger at the Hilltop Diner, Troy headed to McCready’s for a beer. Since turning legal, drinking wasn’t exactly something he did often. And tonight it wasn’t a brew he had on his mind but rather a certain gorgeous redhead.

He hadn’t taken two steps inside the pub when he spotted Bree Dennison. She’d always made his heart do a little flip-flop. It might’ve been her pale blue eyes.

Clutching the jewelry box he’d made her, he hoped like hell she liked it. He’d taken the time to personalize the top more than he ever had before. He’d carved flowers into the design this time, poppies he’d painted a bright red-orange.

Troy wasn’t sure why he felt so uncomfortable. After all, the two had gone to school together, known each other since first grade. Why should he be nervous about bringing a stupid homemade gift to a friend?

Because he wanted to be a lot more than Bree’s friend, he thought as he took a seat at one of the little tables. He sat there waiting for her to make her way over, knew the moment she looked over and spotted him.

“Well, hello, stranger,” Bree said in her cheery way. Her eyes immediately went to the jewelry box. “Oh, is that for me? Why, Troy, it’s beautiful.”

“You like it?” He watched as she ran her hand over the intricate petals and knew her reaction was genuine, particularly now that she’d thrown her arms around his neck.

Troy noticed her eyeing McCready standing behind the bar. As soon as Bree got her chance, she waited for the bartender to pour a drink for a customer and then neatly dropped into a chair beside him.

“You said you’d make one for me. But this is more detailed than the one you made Abby Bonner. Now I have something to hold my earrings. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I’m glad you like it.” Why did he feel so clumsy all of a sudden? Despite his inept mindset, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. When she caught him staring he cleared his throat. “Not too busy tonight?”

“No, but it’s early yet. Are you still renting the little studio apartment over the Harris’s garage at Promise Cove?”

“You bet. It’s fixed up real nice, too.”

“I’d love to see your place.”

“You would? Then why don’t you come out Saturday night? I’ll make you dinner.”

“Get out! You cook?”

“Sure. Everyone has to eat.”

“I’d love to but not Saturday night. I’m working. How about Sunday instead?”

“Sounds like I’m making Sunday dinner,” Troy said with a grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a man cook for me before other than my dad.”

“What about Zach?”

Bree tittered with laughter which brought a “get back to work” glare from McCready.

“My brother? Cook? No way. He barely knows how to work the microwave. And I don’t consider that cooking unless I’m starving.”

She leaned in closer and whispered, “Don’t tell McCready this but that’s what they serve here when our regulars want something to eat other than pretzels. We zap pizza in a microwave. It tastes like rubber and reminds me of cardboard. But folks gobble that stuff up in a pinch.”

“Then it’s a date and I guarantee it won’t come out of a microwave or taste like rubber.”

B
y the time Julianne pulled up in the driveway of her little rental back in Santa Cruz it was almost eight. She left the van parked where it was because she could no longer fit it into the garage. With all her “projects” in various stages of fixing up, she’d run out of room there a year earlier. She definitely needed to start liquidating some of her inventory and do something about her “hoarder” side before she booked a moving truck.

Her mind on the cute little gingerbread house she’d checked out in Pelican Pointe, she snatched the wooden box off the backseat and headed to the door.

Even at night her eyes drifted to the flower beds where purple and yellow petunias dazzled in the moonlight, spilling over onto the walkway. She imagined her own yard, her own lawn and knew exactly what she’d plant if given the chance—bold purple pansies and celosia with a pop of golden tulips and prairie sun.

Stepping up to the deck, she had to admit she’d miss the little postage-sized bungalow she’d called home for the last five years. She’d rented the little studio from a friend of her father’s after Danny died. It didn’t have much of a front lawn, but with a nice view of the ocean, she’d never complained about living here.

As soon as she reached the glass-paneled front door and stuck the key in the lock, she realized she’d forgotten to leave a light on. Flipping the switch, she looked around the four walls. The one-bedroom, seven-hundred square-foot space was barely bigger than an apartment. But it suited her just fine. She’d furnished it with cast-offs, upcycled flea market finds and those creative trash to treasures she devoted her weekends to making over.

She stuffed the keepsake box into one of the cubby holes under the seat bench and spotted the blinking light signaling four messages on her answering machine. Each turned out to be four fellow teachers inviting her to the same book club event next week.

But one voice was especially biting. Julianne rolled her eyes as she listened to Nicole Cannon remind her again what a mistake it was to take the job in Pelican Pointe.

Pent-up frustration had Julianne letting out a huff. Why did it seem like certain friends could never be happy about another’s success? Tonight she didn’t need one more ding in her self-confidence. She was already wondering, asking herself almost daily, if she was really up to the task of becoming principal of her own school.

With that weighing on her mind, she trekked into the tiny kitchen, grabbed a carton of yogurt out of the fridge and sat down at the breakfast table she’d revamped—still stewing over Nicole’s comment.

Nicole always could make her furious—even as a child. The two girls had grown up living across the street from each other. Competition through school seemed to get in the way of their friendship, building a huge divide between them—pettiness over grades, boys, and friends had caused the two from ever getting truly close. They should’ve been like sisters, Julianne thought now. But Nicole never seemed to be able to share in her happiness over anything. The woman certainly hadn’t been pleased when Danny had entered the picture.

At the knock on the door, Julianne made her way back into the living room, spotted her petite neighbor, Lindeen Cody, through the glass. Lindeen held a large Tupperware container between both hands. Julianne smiled at the kindhearted woman she’d gotten to know over the years. Lindeen often brought over food.

“I saw your van pull up.”

“Come on in.”

“I can only stay for a minute. I baked a chicken enchilada casserole tonight. As usual made way too much for two people, thought you might like some.”

“You’re an angel, Mrs. Cody. How did you know I’m starving?”

“Thought so. You didn’t take the time to eat supper again, did you? I worry about you. And you’re always so late getting home.”

“I drove over to Pelican Pointe after school to check out the progress. You should see what they’ve done so far, gutted the front half of the rooms already.”

“Girl, you’ll make many trips over there before that place is ready. The renovation couldn’t be in better hands. And just wait until they ask for volunteers to paint, do touch-up work. The whole town will turn out.”

“Logan said the same thing.”

“Do you like the town?”

“Oh, I love it.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m just wondering if I’m really ready for this. It’s such a big step.”

“Nonsense. Has that Nicole Cannon been chipping away at your confidence again? Filling your head with doubt? Don’t you dare let that small-minded woman zap your excitement about this, she isn’t worth it.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Cody. You never fail to say the right thing to pick up my spirits. I’ll miss living down the street from you.”

“That’s the truth of it. I’ll miss you, too. But you have to do what’s best for you. Moving to Pelican Pointe is the right thing for your career. By the way, you know that ugly buffet you found on Craigslist and fixed up. I’ve reconsidered. I love the oak color stain you used. I’m thinking it’ll be the perfect addition to my guest room.”

“Are you sure? I’m asking two-hundred dollars.”

“Since it’s solid wood and since they don’t make that kind of buffet anymore, the piece is a steal at that price and we both know it. Besides, I talked Marcus into a spring painting project. Give me three weeks and I’ll be ready to take it off your hands.”

“Perfect.”

About that time another knock sounded at the door. Julianne looked through the glass, recognized her father’s well-worn, steel-toed, work boots before anything else.

John Dickinson was a gentle giant of a man with a crop of dark brown hair turning gray at the temples. He had wide eyes that matched his daughter’s with a spread of crow’s feet at the corners. He possessed an easy laugh and sweet disposition that made him an asset to any job he started. He rarely got upset with his customers no matter how many times they changed their minds about the design of a kitchen or the color of paint or which wood stain might look better. The only time he showed a temper was if it concerned Julianne.

“Well, hello,” his daughter said, greeting him with a hug. “What brings you here?”

“Just finished a job three streets over. Was in your neck of the woods so I decided to stop in, check on my little girl,” John explained kissing his daughter on the cheek. “Hi there, Lindeen. How’s Marcus?”

“Doing fine, John. He fell asleep on the couch after dinner,” Lindeen returned. “I brought over a Mexican casserole. There’s plenty for both of you. Now you two sit right down and eat the supper I brought. I’ll get out of your way so you can enjoy it. Your girl here needs a little cheering up. Nicole’s been chinking away at her armor again.”

“I’m okay,” Julianne said as Lindeen started to leave.

“I know you are,” Lindeen remarked, patting her hand. “But a girl needs her dad to talk to now and then anyway.”

When Lindeen had gone, John took the time to study his daughter. “What’s this about a chink in your armor? Nicole’s jealous, is all. She’s always been ever since you bested her in the spelling bee. You know better than to pay any attention to her pettiness. That girl’s never going to be happy for you no matter what you do.”

“I know. Look, sit down while I heat up the casserole and I’ll tell you about the house I found in Pelican Pointe.”

While the dish reheated, Julianne got down glasses for iced tea. For the first time all day, she dumped everything on the man who had always taken the time to listen to her problems. That included what she hoped to accomplish in her new home. When she was done, she sucked in a breath waiting for him to say something.

“I’m gonna miss you,” John said, placing an arm around her shoulder.

“Pop, it’s just fifty miles north. You’ll see me on weekends.”

“I know, but I won’t be able to stop by on my way home from work to check up on my only child like I do now or have supper with her whenever I want. But you know what? I want you reaching for the stars because this is a fantastic opportunity for you. And this house sounds perfect for a first-time home. You were looking for a fixer-upper you could make your own. Why don’t I come by Saturday and we take a look at it together?”

“Pop, Mr. Jennings hasn’t even agreed to sell it to me yet.”

“I’ve no doubt he will. If I know you, and I do, you’ll see to it you wear him down until he says yes.”