Meant to Be (37 page)

Life was about to become a living hell. Or rather, more of a living hell than it had been since his fiancée had fallen in love with his brother. Lucas didn’t regret being the one to convince Beth and Joe not to become martyrs for his sake. He’d loved Beth, or thought he had the night he proposed. And he loved his brother for all they understood each other, which wasn’t much.

Something had happened to Beth back in May when he’d left her behind on the island to head back to Richmond for a case. The change could have been caused by Joe, or the island, or maybe the distance from Lucas and the law firm where they’d worked together. Whatever the reason, the Beth he’d left behind was not the woman waiting when he returned.

In fact, she’d been Elizabeth to him. He still struggled to call her Beth. From Richmond he didn’t have to call her
anything. The gossip in the office had been a pain in the ass, but faded into ancient history as soon as Van Dyke got caught boffing his assistant in the janitor’s closet.

According to Beth, she’d never set out to hurt him. She’d been living a lie for a long time, pretending to be someone else to make people happy, and somehow he’d become part of that lie. One more person she’d set out to please. The truth was, whether he’d brought her to Anchor or not, their life together never would have worked out.

Which drove him nuts, but he wasn’t about to let Beth know that. Or anyone else. So she’d picked his brother over him. Nothing new there.

Through no effort of his own, and exuding no discernible charm Lucas could see, Joe had always come out on top. People
loved
him. They listened when he talked, cleared a path when he crossed a room.

Being Joe Dempsey’s little brother was like playing second fiddle to a set of spoons, which is why Lucas preferred to live elsewhere. In Richmond, he was the star attorney. The up-and-coming counselor. Or he had been until Beth dumped him for Joe.

“Hey there,” came a voice from behind him. Speak of the devil. “This is a really nice thing you’re doing.”

Lucas kept his eyes on the vending machine before him. “Yeah. Well. Mom and Dad need me. I’m here for them.”

Beth leaned on the corner of the machine. “And you’re sure this won’t be a problem? Getting away from the firm?”

He should have known she’d wonder about that. “Not a problem.” Lucas pushed the number-letter combination for
the barbeque chips, then watched the steel rod turn. And the chips stay where they were. “Damn it.”

Beth ignored the expletive. “Leaving in the middle of a case isn’t going to cause issues? No one wants you to jeopardize your career.”

Lucas smacked the glass between him and the chips. Nothing. “I’m not in the middle of a case.” Another smack. The chips didn’t budge.

“Oh,” Beth said. “Then you just wrapped one up?”

Meeting her eyes for the first time, he blurted. “I’m on leave. I lost three cases in a month, and Holcomb
suggested
I take a leave of absence until I’ve ‘regained my focus,’ as he put it.” Lucas turned back to the machine to stare at the seemingly unattainable bag of chips. There was a metaphor in there somewhere.

His former fiancée stayed quiet, indicating she might hopefully be ready to drop the subject. No such luck. “I’m sorry. How long have you been off?”

“Two weeks.”

“And you didn’t tell us?” she asked. “Were you going to come down here?”

He shook his head, filtering through the possible replies. He picked honesty. “If what I need is focus, Anchor is the last place I’m likely to find it.” Then before he could stop the words, he said, “That’s more like returning to the scene of the crime.”

Beth inhaled sharply and his gut churned. He’d sworn he wouldn’t do this. “Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Beth shook her head. “No, it’s all right. We knew this was going to be a transition.” She blushed. “That’s not the right word. I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” he interrupted. Loading his guilt onto her shoulders might make him feel better for a whole five seconds, but Beth wasn’t the only person he didn’t recognize anymore.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll make this work.” He tried a grin, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Six weeks. We can handle six weeks, right?”

Beth spotted someone behind him and straightened. “Right. Six weeks. I’d better get back in the room.”

Lucas turned to see Sid Navarro coming down the hall. The pint-size boat mechanic had been on the fringe of his reality since high school, but he wouldn’t say they were friends. Not like she and Joe were. In fact, Lucas couldn’t remember ever having an actual conversation with the woman.

Every time he saw her she was either snarling at someone or covered in grease and cursing a blue streak. She had to be the least ladylike chick he’d ever met.

“How’s it going?” Sid said, joining him at the machine. He expected an assault of diesel fumes but instead caught the scent of…watermelon?

“Hi.”

Chocolate-brown eyes met his for a brief moment then turned to the machine. “You getting something?”

“Trying to.” He pulled his eyes from the smooth patch of olive skin exposed under the ponytail. “The machine is holding my chips for ransom, and I’m not paying. Guess I’ll go without.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Sid stepped forward and pressed her ear to the side of the worthless box of bolts.

As she moved to listen at another spot, Lucas asked, “What are you—” but she shushed him with one finger in front of his nose. He was so shocked, he clamped his mouth shut.

Pulling back, Sid smacked the side of the machine with the butt of her hand, causing his chips to drop into the tray. He’d smacked the damn thing twice and gotten nothing.

“How did you do that?”

Sid shrugged. “I’ve got a way with machines. Are those the right chips?”

“Yeah.” Lucas pushed the door to retrieve the snack as Sid pulled a wallet from her back pocket. “You don’t carry a purse?”

She looked at him as if he’d asked if she had meth for sale. “Do I look like a purse carrier to you?”

He took in the hoodie, cargo pants, and work boots. “Guess not.”

“You good with this working together thing?” she asked, falling into step beside him after retrieving her candy bar from the drawer. Which fell on the first try.

“Fine with me. You probably know the staff better than I do. That should help until I get my bearings and the staff realize I’m in charge.”

Sid stopped. “You’re in charge?”

Lucas crossed his arms, nearly smashing his chips. “It
is
my family business.”

She crossed her arms, mimicking his stance. Her head didn’t reach his shoulder, but she still managed to look like a badass. Must have been the boots. “I’m covering for Patty, who is as much in charge, if not more so, than your dad.
So you may be in charge of everyone else, but you’re not in charge of me.”

Lucas took several deep breaths and debated how to handle the situation. He couldn’t tell her to take a flying leap because he needed her. And his mom would kick his ass if he screwed this up before he’d even stepped behind the bar.

“Equals?”

“That’s right.”

“We’ll see.” Not the strongest comeback, but for a tiny woman, Sid had a steady gaze.

“For a lawyer, you suck at this.” Sid started walking again, then turned his way and walked backward. “I hope you tend bar better than you argue, or I’m going to have to cover the whole damn place.”

With that she disappeared into the hospital room, leaving Lucas in the hall with crushed chips and a bruised ego. Six weeks in hell had officially begun.

T
here is no way I could give proper thanks to every person who helped me get to this point. If I try to name them all, I will inevitably forget someone. And yet, here I go. Romance novels have always been a part of my life, but not until I fell in love with the works of Eloisa James did writing them become part of my future. Stumbling across the Eloisa James Bulletin Board in 2006 was a catalyst event in my life, and I owe a debt of gratitude to Ms. James for creating such an amazing, open, giving community of like-minded readers and writers. The women I met on that board have become some of my best friends, and I cannot imagine my life without them. To the Bon Bons, you changed my life, and I thank you.

Meant to Be
is set on the fictitious Anchor Island, but is completely based on the very real Ocracoke, a remote island at the base of the Outer Banks accessible only by ferry. I had the pleasure of visiting several years ago, and have never forgotten the experience. I set out to recreate the charm, joy, and otherworldliness of this lovely little wonder-island inside the pages of this book, and hope to have done it at least a hint of justice. If after reading
Meant to Be
you wish you could visit Anchor Island, book yourself a trip to Ocracoke
Island, NC. I can’t promise a hunky fisherman and his loveable mutt will greet you on the ferry, but you never know.

Thank you to Romance Writers of America®, an organization of support, education, and endless resources. This manuscript was named a finalist in the RWA 2012 Golden Heart® contest (go Firebirds!), and from the moment I received the news, my publishing dreams began to come true. Mine is one of many stories that follow this same path. Without hopping on the RWA train, I doubt any of this would be happening.

Thank you to my agent, Nalini Akolekar, who gave me that one “yes” that every author desires, and then made my dream come true. Thank you to my editors, Kelli, Lindsay, and Becky. I am a better writer for having worked with you, and will be forever grateful for the chance you’ve taken on me and my stories.

Now to my pirates. For half a decade I’ve been sailing the publishing seas with the best writing pirates on the planet. To Hellie (who spent years convincing me I was a writer), Chance, Marn, Sin, Hal, Scape, Donna, and Lisa. Thank you for swabbing these decks with me, and always being there through calm and stormy seas.

Thank you to my beta readers. This is where I will forget someone so you know who you are. Your feedback, encouragement, and support have been priceless. And to my daughter, to whom this book is dedicated. As I’ve said before, you will always be my greatest achievement, the love of my life, and the impetus behind everything I do.

Photo by Crystal Huffman

A
Yankee by birth, Terri moved below the Mason-Dixon line in the mid-1990s and has refused to return to the land of snow and subfreezing temperatures ever since. Introduced to reading at a young age through condensed versions of
Little Women, The Wizard of Oz
, and
The Hound of the Baskervilles
, she found her way to romance novels in middle school and never looked back. She started writing her own books in 2007, finaled in the Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® contest in 2012, and signed her first publishing contract with Montlake Romance later that year. A former disc jockey turned cubicle dweller turned writer, Terri lives with her teenage daughter, a high-maintenance Yorkiepoo, and two fat and happy tabbies on the coast of Virginia.