Love and Rumors: A Summer Sisters Beach Reads Contemporary Romance (The Summer Sisters Book 1) (10 page)

No man had ever made her hands shake, just from thinking about the way he’d looked at her with burning desire. Made her knees feel as though they’d lost their strength. And he was a movie star—a man who could, and would, have just about any woman he wanted. He was famous because he could make an average woman feel like a queen. Passionate. Wanted. Needed. Lusted after.

It wasn’t real. Could never be real. He was playing his sex appeal games and she’d be a fool to think anything of it. Hailey needed to photograph his troubled side, not feed it. She needed to dig into his layers and…

She needed to stay away. Far away.

She moored her boat at the cottage and sat on the dock, feet in the cool water. It was quiet except for the gentle slap of water on at the underside of the dock, and she closed her eyes and tried to center herself.

She wanted Finian. She wanted money. She didn’t want to give up the cottage despite her mother’s permission to do so.

But there was no way Hailey could have what she wanted. She was going to lose. Big time.

An owl shrieked, sending shivers up her spine. She eased out a long breath. Across the water, Baby Horseshoe Island sat in the dark, despite it being a long weekend and having a camp for teens on the far side. But because of the high property taxes, she knew many couldn’t afford to take the long summer vacations they used to in Muskoka’s heyday and that the nonprofit camp had been struggling for years. It was increasingly rare for a family to spend the whole summer out here. Even those who could telecommute.

She sighed and turned to gaze up at the green cottage looming in the dark behind her. How long would it take for Nymph Island to sell? Who would it go to? Would they love it and appreciate its rustic charm? Or would they do like the new owners of JoHoBo across the strait, and renovate the cottage to the point that its heritage and history were completely eliminated? Even the name—a combination of the original cottagers’ children, Joanne, Hoskin, and Bobby—had been changed, to Missy’s Getaway.

Still in her bare feet, Hailey walked up the long, winding dirt path to the cottage. She unlocked the door using a hidden key, and tugged a note off the clip she’d nailed into the old wood door so visitors could leave messages.

She flicked on a battery-powered light and read the note from a family wondering if the place was available for rent. Hmm. There was an idea. What would a place like this go for per week? She did some quick calculations and realized that even if she rented it out for a crazy amount, it wouldn’t be enough to save the island. But it might help. She looked around the kitchen with a critical eye. It had been added on to the back of the cottage in 1960, the old outdoor kitchen having collapsed after a particularly heavy snow year. The whole place would need a bit of cleaning before being rented out.

Carrying a lantern, Hailey walked through the cottage’s four bedrooms. The sisters would have to remove their personal effects, which wouldn’t take long. The furniture was ancient, but could almost be considered antique. Add that the bathroom still had its original claw-foot tub, and she could sell the place’s rustic charm without a problem. A quiet getaway where you could unplug in order to reconnect.

Upstairs was a massive attic that served as a big playroom for Tigger, and held four more queen-size beds. The alcove and small deck, which held a small table and two chairs, wasn’t typical in many of the older cottages, and lent a nice openness to the upstairs. The place might not have a large-screen TV or air conditioning, but it had charm in spades.

She returned to the motorboat, inspired by her new plan. Once she was out from around the island and within reliable cell phone range again, she used her phone’s screen for light as she dialed the number off the note, hoping she wouldn’t be getting the Walkers out of bed.

She introduced herself to the man on the other end of the line. “I apologize for calling so late—”

“No problem,” he said in a delicious British accent. “The neighbors at this resort are so loud we won’t be sleeping for at least another two hours. My wife, three kids, and I really want to get away from town and chill out on an island if at all possible.”

“How many days?”

“Three days, two nights. We’d like to stay tomorrow night and the next.”

“We could swing that.” She’d have to do a hell of a lot of cleaning between now and then as well as confer with her sisters—although did it really matter if they knew? They’d want to come out for their annual Canada Day picnic since they’d been rained out today, but she could tell them the place was being fumigated and that they had to stay away. Then she wouldn’t have to explain or argue or defend the idea. She could just go forward and get this problem solved and move them closer to keeping the cottage. “It’s fairly rustic….”

“That’s fine.”

“No air-conditioning. No television. A generator, solar panels and a battery for power.”

“Sounds perfect. Would we have the whole island to ourselves?”

“Yes.” She told him the price and closed her eyes, fingers crossed, barely daring to breathe.

“Does that include a boat?”

She scrunched her eyes even tighter. “Yes. You can use mine. But no meals.”

“Great. We’ll meet you at the marina tomorrow at two.”

Grinning, she docked the boat and got into her car, feeling lighter. She had a decent backup plan. The rental money wouldn’t go far, but added to the proceeds she’d hopefully get from Simone’s show and she’d be getting somewhere. Plus she’d resume her plan of getting Finian in the tabloids—without her attached to his lips.

Her phone rang and she quickly set up her hands free to take the call. Maybe someone had spotted Finian doing something dumb and she could spin over there and make a mint.

“Hi!”

“You sound happy,” her mother said.

“Mom. Is everything all right?”

“Of course it is. I was just calling to tell you the fireworks were great. Best seat in the place.”

“Oh, good.” Hailey glanced at the sky and pulled out of the parking lot. She’d totally missed the fireworks.

“As well, I was thinking.”

“Oh?” She held her breath.

“I think it’s time to ask your sisters for help.”

“What?” Hailey nearly drove off the road.

Her mother had been so clear and insistent over the past five years that the cottage shouldn’t hold her sisters back from what they really wanted in life, knowing it was a burden and that caring for it might mean them not following their own paths. At the time Hailey had been honored that she was chosen to be Nymph Island’s main caretaker, but over time she’d become slightly resentful of the burden, yet also strangely protective of it. But now, to let them in on how bad things were because she’d muffed up hardly seemed fair.

“I know I asked you to take care of the place and keep them in the dark on a few things in order to keep the situation simple and easy. But I never dreamed how much the taxes would increase. Or the inflation on maintenance. I’m sorry for placing it all on your shoulders, Hailey. I can see now that it wasn’t fair. However, you’ve still done a good job with what you have and I’m proud of you.”

Hailey pulled over to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“But it’s time to involve your sisters.”

“What good will it do? They don’t even have enough money to help cover this year’s tax bill.”

“Have you asked?”

“I’ve hinted that the cost has gone up, and everyone kind of goes pale and freaks out a little. Besides, Maya and Melanie just got out of school. Their jobs are crappy, and Daphne is trying to save up to take Tigger to Disney World. I can’t just ask them to give me every penny they have when we might lose it all.”

“So, then. Tell them it’s going up for sale.”

“I think the cottage was meant to stay in our hands, Mom.” Why else would Finian have noticed her? Invited her out? Strutted about The Kee like a peacock? It was a sign. A sign that Hailey could do this on her own.
Then
she could bring her sisters in. She was the eldest, and the only thing in need of saving was the cottage, not her. “I’ll save Nymph Island by August 30.”

“It’s time to accept help, Hailey. Don’t be so stubborn and proud.”

“I can do it faster on my own.”

“Will the sacrifice be worth it? To you? To your relationship with your sisters?”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I have everything under control.”

* * *

Hailey scanned the online tabloids. Nothing. As she’d told her mother last night, everything was under control. Apparently even more than she’d realized. She grinned at her luck and leaned back, taking a sip of her black coffee. Austin hadn’t sold the story of her and Finian getting it on at The Kee. Thank goodness.

But then, if this was a good thing, why did she feel deflated?

She shook off the sensation. She had work to do. She wasn’t some teenager needing validation; she was an adult in need of serious cash. Like, over half her annual income.

Early that morning she’d taken the boat back across the still waters, removing or tucking away personal effects in the cottage, as well as scrubbing her way through the old building. In a few hours she would be escorting the Walker family out to Nymph Island, but in the meantime she had some serious Finian stalking to do. That, and selecting the photos she wanted to show in Simone’s boutique.

After checking her watch, Hailey ran a brush through her hair. She didn’t know where Finian would go today or what kind of transportation she would need to follow him, but she guessed he’d stick close to land. Grabbing her camera bag, she glanced in the mirror and adjusted her sundress, then reached for her car keys. It was time to exploit the soul-kissing faker.

She parked her car near Finian’s resort and took the boardwalk along the lake, contemplating the marsh at the end, where he’d said he’d seen a spotted turtle. The animal was rare. Like him.

“I want to apologize for being too forward last night.”

Hailey whirled, tripping over her loose flip-flop. Finian. Damn him, but it felt as though he found her as often as she found him. And she was the one supposed to be doing the stalking.

He caught her easily, helping her regain her balance. His hand remained on her arm and she tried not to lean closer, to get a whiff of him, to feel his body heat.

“Can I make it up to you?” he asked.

The man still hadn’t shaved. Or maybe he had last night before going to bed, and had permanent stubble. She hated how it made his eyes smolder in a way that was entirely too sexy and irresistible. How it weakened her resolve to be a cool bitch who was all about profit. Pair that with how his soft cotton shirt was clinging to his muscles, and she wanted to do a lot more than just capture him in digital.

Hailey plunked her camera bag on a nearby bench and placed her hands on her hips. “You’re ridiculous. You know that?”

“I try your patience?”

Damn his pleading look. It made her want to comply, to run a hand down his rough cheek and draw his fine mouth to her own, as well as test the strength of those corded arms.

“Everyone tries my patience.” She turned away. She needed to get a grip on herself.

“Wait. I’ll walk with you.”

Hailey stopped short, a laugh on her lips. Mr. Movie Star sounded so
nervous
. Not smooth or confident. Hot damn, if that didn’t make her want her to peel off the layers to see what was at his core.

No. She needed to keep a professional distance. He was an actor. He could apologize and act sincere and still be a jerk. She needed to stay reserved and analytical, so when he shed off those layers she was ready and waiting with her camera. Her camera. Oh hell, she’d left it on the bench. She shuffled back to retrieve it, wondering where he was planning to walk her to. She was supposed to be
following
him. She’d been playing the paparazzo role for a whole minute this morning and she’d already messed it up.

She needed to get back to photographing nature. It, at least, didn’t turn around and follow her, and if it ever did, it always resulted in great shots.

He caught up with her in a few long-legged strides. “I was wondering…your nature photos?”

“What about them?” She tried not to let interest and hope creep into her voice. What if he wanted one for his home in Beverly Hills? What if he wanted to pose nude in—whoa…stop right there. Not professional. And not nature the way she usually captured it.

“Do you need a picture of that turtle? That rare one?” He seemed hesitant. Much different from last night, when he’d been cocky and sure of himself as he’d pushed past her limits. “I know where one is.”

“You didn’t catch it, did you?” She crossed her arms and glared at him. Visions of the endangered turtle swimming in the bathtub at his cottage, looking for a place to climb out and rest, made her breath hitch.

“Do you really think you are the only person on the planet with a brain?” His cheeks had gone pink, and she shifted her weight, staring at him.

“So? What is it you want, Finian? Shouldn’t you be doing something asinine for the tabloids instead of trying to tempt me out into a marsh?”

The kindness in Finian’s eyes changed, as if he was putting up walls, becoming someone else. “Do you want to see the turtle or not?”

Of course she did. She was a nature photographer, and endangered animals were her prize subjects.

She swallowed and met Finian’s eyes. “That’s not a euphemism, is it?”

He let out a laugh, so deep and rich it sent tremors up her spine.

Forgiven.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re cooking up something shady?” she asked, stepping closer.

“Because you believe what the tabloids tell you.” He gave her a bright smile, slightly cocky and bold as he lifted his eyebrows in challenge.

“And why shouldn’t I?” She crossed her arms. “Last night you pretty much proved you’d do anything for attention.”

The look he gave her was primal and intense. “Are you referring to the attention of my adoring masses, or just yours?”

She wanted to shake him off, feeling claustrophobic as though he’d moved in on her. In reality, he was still a polite distance away and there was no reason for her breathing to be all choked up.