Hideaway Cove (A Windfall Island Novel) (9 page)

M
onday morning dawned crystal clear, freezing cold, and way too early. Jessi barely noticed, sleepwalking her way through the same routine she’d performed every weekday morning for what felt like a million years. The only time she roused herself to pay attention was when she dropped Benji off at school. Then she put herself on autopilot again, pulling into her usual parking place at the airport without really knowing how she’d gotten there.

When she walked inside, though, and heard Hold humming all the way from the little office like he didn’t have a care in the world, every cell in her gray matter fired up at once.

Resentment flooded her, took her to his doorway. “Where were you all weekend?”

Hold looked up, grinned. “Missed me, did you, sugar?”

Her eyes narrowed, her heart began to pound, her cheeks heated. She searched for a response, but in the wake of what she’d already given away there didn’t seem to be anything to say. She turned on her heel, fuming with every step she took. One minute she couldn’t step foot outside her door without running into Hold, the next he was gone completely. She’d been through Hell in the last three days, and where was Hold when she needed him?

She’d watched Benji float around the house on a cloud because his father had spent two hours with him. She still felt miserable about it, miserable that she resented her son, even for a second, being happy to finally have his father around.

And where the hell was Hold when she could have used a distraction? Maybe it wasn’t fair or logical, considering how hard she’d tried to get him to leave her alone, but what was logical about emotion?

She sent one last glare toward the little office, then stood up to peel off her coat and toss it toward the coat rack. It fell on the floor but she left it there in a stupid yellow heap. What had possessed her to buy a coat that was such a happy color, anyway?

And since sitting didn’t suit her mood, she decided to do the filing. There was always filing to do because who in the world enjoyed it enough to keep up?

By noon she’d finished that, cleaned every flat surface in the place, dusted, swept the floor, and finally collapsed at her desk, the long, sleepless weekend sapping her energy.

But not her temper.

Hold sat in the little office, contemplating the charts covering the walls. He’d reached a dead end on his current avenue of the search for Eugenia’s possible descendants, ruled out all the families who’d moved away from the island. The time had come to move the investigation back to Windfall’s shores, to the families still residing there and, even more specifically, to the other residents in Maggie Solomon’s generation.

To Jessi.

Who might even now be in danger. He took a deep breath, let it out, fought off the anger and blind fear the thought always brought on. Logic, he reminded himself, made his fear unreasonable. Nothing had happened since Maggie’s plane had been sabotaged a few weeks before. That wasn’t to say whoever had hired Mort wasn’t trying to find a new henchman.

But he and Maggie and George Boatwright, Windfall’s sheriff, were all keeping a close eye on Benji and Jessi—even closer now that Lance had returned. Lance’s timing was suspect, and while Hold had a difficult time believing Lance meant to harm his own son, they’d be keeping an eye on him.

And he was stalling, Hold thought, because Maggie’s advice might be working a little too well. The one peek he’d taken around the door frame had shown Jessi moving around the office like a tornado, her expression just as stormy.

He felt like hell. Maybe Maggie had been right; maybe keeping his distance from Jessi had made her realize how much she missed him, but at what cost? Jessi was miserable, and so was he.

He walked out of the office, saw her spine stiffen when she heard him coming up behind her where she sat at her desk. “How about some lunch?” he suggested, smiling over the way her chin came up.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Coming down with the flu that’s going around?”

“No.”

“Upset about Lance? It couldn’t have been easy seeing him with Benji Sunday.”

Jessi whipped around to glare at him. “Like you give a da—” She broke off, and he watched her clamp down on the anger until she had herself firmly under control again. It was fascinating. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“Don’t tell me what I am or how I feel. Go back to your little room and ignore me. You’re good at it.”

“But it pisses you off.”

“Like I have time to think about you.” She sniffed, pouted a little. “You don’t even make the list.”

“Maybe you could share some of the load. I have a shoulder or two that aren’t doing anything right now.”

Just for a moment, something flared in her eyes, something that looked like yearning. Then her gaze shuttered, and she turned her back on him again.

“C’mon, Jess, I’m not such a stranger anymore, not after that kiss the other day.”

She went quiet and still, and he knew she’d gotten caught in that memory the same way he did, every time he revisited it. Which was every other minute, he admitted.

“I’m sure you can find someone who’d love to put your shoulders, and the rest of your body parts, to work,” she said.

“Are we back on that again?”

“From what I hear, you’ve yet to get off.”

He grinned.

“I mean…You know what I mean.”

“You’re jealous,” he said, which made her spin back around and jerk to her feet.

“Of you?” she squeaked, jamming her hands on her hips. “Oh, I forgot, the whole world revolves.”

“Why can’t you just admit you missed me the last couple of days?”

She pasted a slight frown on her face, let it clear. “That’s right; I didn’t see you at all. Now I know why I had such a peaceful weekend.”

“Peaceful?” Hold gave a burst of derisive laughter. “Might as well try to sell bacon to a pig, darlin’. I’d as soon believe you weren’t half out of your mind with worry, seeing as Lance Proctor spent yesterday afternoon with Benji.”

“It’s none of your business, no matter what the rest of the people on this island think.”

“Island? Hell,
you
are an island, Jessi. You think you don’t need anybody else, that you can take all the weight of the world on your little shoulders forever without it burying you alive?”

“Benji and I—”

“The hell with this.” Hold grabbed her by the upper arms, jerked her to her feet, and took her mouth.

He’d expected at least a token resistance, and a token resistance was all Jessi made before she melted into him. Hold let the kiss spin into a soft and lovely exchange of warmth and comfort, let that warmth wind its way slowly into his blood and haze his mind.

Jessi wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her tight little body against him, and tangled her tongue with his. The warmth in his blood turned to heat. His brain simply emptied out—so did the rest of him—emptied then filled back up with her. Her taste, her scent, her heat.

More.
It wasn’t a thought, or even a word. It was a necessity, a hunger; the air he breathed mattered less than having Jessi in his arms, her mouth—

She pushed out of his arms so suddenly he let her go, then stood there bereft. Until he noticed the tears in her eyes.

“Jessica—”

“Just go away,” she said.

“No.” He gathered her in again, cradling her head on his shoulder. “Let go, no strings, no expectations. Just give yourself a minute to take some comfort.”

It didn’t take a minute. She relaxed almost immediately against him, and while he understood it was gentleness she needed, he still wanted her with every fiber of his being. Then he felt the change in her, a subtle tension in her body, a quickening of her breath.

“Jessica—”

She pulled away, taking herself across the room to retrieve her coat.

“Where are you going?” Hold wanted to know.

“To find Maggie and get a hug that’s just a hug.”

“What does that mean?”

“Eight years, that’s what that means.”

Hold caught her gaze, held it as he followed her across the room and drew her into his arms again. “That’s a hell of a dry spell,” he said, and crushed his mouth to hers.

She melted into him with a sexy little moan. He felt her heart pound against his, her body soften. She made him ache, yearn, crave with the kind of hunger that belonged to the dark.

He shifted, snugged her into the cradle of his hips and sipped the gasp from her lips when she strained even closer, when she dropped her mouth to his neck and he felt her hot breath and hot tongue slide over his skin.

When she slipped her hands down, though, he caught them in his, and although it took every ounce of will he possessed, he stepped back. It was either that or take her there—on the desk, on the floor, against the wall, it wouldn’t matter. Until after.

He could see it already. As the heat of need left her and realization took its place, the roses in her cheeks took on the frantic color of embarrassment. She turned on her heel and fled. Hold let her go because, he reminded himself, there were times you took, and times you waited.

S
ince the Horizon was pretty much the only nighttime public gathering place on the island, it was always hopping.

“How come we’re going out on a school night?” Benji asked as Jessi ushered him through the door in front of her.

“Gee, you’re right, Benj,” she said. “I forgot it was a school night. I think we should go home.”

“Aw, Mom,” he said, making the word several syllables long and looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes. “I was just wondering why we’re, you know, going out to dinner on a Monday?”

“Because Maggie asked us.” And because Jessi wanted to hear the gossip, seeing as some of it would certainly be about her. And the Horizon’s big dining room, with its wood paneling and its bar made from the side of a salvaged ship, would be drowning in gossip. The only problem left was getting there early enough. You didn’t want to end up in a corner where you’d miss what happened on the opposite side of the room.

She steered Benji to a booth at the far side of the room. Not a prime location, but she had an advantage. She didn’t get out all that much, which gave her virgin ears. People on the island would travel miles to be the first one to drop the biggest gossip bomb. Crossing the room was nothing.

“What are you doing here on a school night?” AJ Appelman said as he parked his bulk at the edge of their table.

AJ, owner and operator of the Horizon, was built like a linebacker, with a smile that could light the world, and the hands and heart of a culinary master.

“We’re meeting Auntie Maggie,” Benji said. “She’s lonely because Dex is in Boston.”

“That’s what I hear,” AJ said.

“Can I have a hamburger?” Benji asked.

“Sure, but don’t you want to wait for Maggie?”

“I’m starving,” he said, clutching his stomach dramatically.

“I don’t think you’ll starve to death in the next half hour.”

Benji collapsed back on the cracked leather seat of the booth, eyes closed, mouth open, trying to impersonate a corpse.

“That’s too bad,” AJ said. “Can’t bring snacks to a dead man, now, can I?”

Benji popped up on the bench seat, then jumped to his knees. “Can I have French— Dad! Dad’s here!”

Jessi craned her head around to see Lance heading their way. He stopped, or was stopped, frequently, and while he shot her glances from time to time, he barely looked at his son.

“Hi, Jess,” he said when he finally got to their table. “Hey, kiddo.”

Benji clambered out of the booth and hugged Lance, his little face shining with joy.

Lance slid in next to her, sitting too close even before he slung an arm over her shoulders. “Look at us,” he said as Benji climbed onto the opposite seat. “Just like a real family.”

“Lance.” She kept her voice even because the look she sent him said it all.

She should have known he’d choose to ignore the warning. Lance only ever saw what he wanted to see. “How about it, kiddo?” he said to Benji.

“How about what?” Benji said, his brow furrowing as he shifted his gaze to his mother.

“How about all of us having dinner together like a real—”

“Lance,” she repeated, sharply enough this time to have heads turning at nearby tables. “I thought we agreed to take it slow.”

Lance looked around the room. The heads that had swiveled toward their booth were now bent close together.

“You decided, Jessi,” he said quietly, but with a cold undertone she wouldn’t have expected from the Lance she’d known.

It only served to remind her that the man sitting next to her was a stranger.

“Mom?”

To her and her son.

“No worries, kiddo,” Lance said before she could reassure him. “I’m just anxious to make up for lost time. I guess I’m in a hurry.”

“Whenever I get in a hurry, Mom says things have to happen in their own time.”

“Your mom is right, Benj, but that doesn’t make it any easier to wait, right?”

“Nope,” Benji said with a wide smile, pleased that his father got it.

“So maybe,” Lance said out of the side of his mouth, “you could cut me a break, Jess.”

“You dropped me flat and disappeared for eight years, Lance. We’re on my timetable now. If you keep pushing so hard, I’ll just push back.”

A muscle in his jaw bunched, relaxed, bunched. The expression in his eyes lightened, though, and he laid a smile on her so wide, so bright, so convincing that Jessi felt like a fool for not trusting him.

“You’re right, Jess. Besides, good things are worth waiting for.” He slid out of the booth.

“Are you leaving?” Benji wanted to know, his smile fading.

“I’m just going over there.” He pointed to a table not far off, in the center of the room, naturally. Lance liked to see and be seen. “Maybe you could have dinner with me. If it’s okay with your mom,” he added, and left her little choice but to agree.

“It’s okay with me,” she said to Benji, adding for Lance’s benefit, “as long as you stay where I can see you.”

The qualification earned her a wounded look from Lance. “My mom will be here soon. She’ll be joining us.”

Not a recommendation, but Jessi kept the thought to herself. “What about it, Benji? Want to have dinner with your dad and your grandmother?”

He hesitated, God bless him.

“It’s okay. Maggie is coming. She’ll keep me company.”

Not that she had time to feel lonely. No sooner had Benji trailed off after Lance than the race for gossip began. Unfortunately, Shelley Meeker led the charge. And it wasn’t just information she wanted.

“Deserted by another Proctor male?” Shelley sniped.

“Really, Shelley. Could you be any more predictable?”

Her snotty grin faded a little.

“Look, you want Lance, he’s right over there. Go get him. I promise I won’t stand in your way.”

Shelley looked over her shoulder, and when she turned back some of her snarkiness seemed to have eased off into misery. “He wants to be alone with his son.”

And the anger was back, Jessi thought with a sigh.

“It’s your fault,” Shelley said. “If you hadn’t gotten pregnant, he wouldn’t have left, and now that you don’t want him, it’s your kid. If I had my way, all the Randals on this island would just disappear—”

“You better stop right there,” Jessi said, narrowing her eyes and lowering her voice, feeling a buzz of hot satisfaction when Shelley’s face paled. “You want to come at me, fine, bring it on. But don’t you even think about Benji like that. Or you will be sorry.”

“And when Jessi gets done with you, it’ll be my turn.”

Shelley spun around with a little squeak of terror and found Maggie, hands on hips and spoiling for a fight, close behind her.

With eyes wide, and for once gloriously speechless, Shelley raised a hand to her throat then fled.

“Just when it was getting fun,” Maggie said, sliding into the other side of the booth.

Jessi fancied she could hear the Wicked Witch of the West’s theme music as Shelley scurried away. “She’s probably going to find the flying monkeys and sic them on me. Any chance you could drop a house on her?”

“Maybe not a house,” Maggie said blandly, “but I could manage a piano or something.”

“That would be a waste of a good piano.”

“True.”

“So what was that?”

“She said something about wishing all the Randals would disappear to clear her path to Lance, and I just…saw red.”

“Well, you should do that more often. I won’t say Shelley’s gone for good, but I’ll bet she leaves you alone for a while.”

“She shouldn’t threaten my child.”

“I don’t think she meant it, Jess.”

“Yeah.” Jessi let out her pent-up breath. “I guess I’m a little on edge.”

“You’re entitled,” Maggie said, stopping to hug Benji when he flew up and wrapped his arms around her neck, chattering about school and his dad, so excited his words tumbled over one another and he was barely understandable before he rushed off again to light on his chair at Lance’s table, like a dragonfly poised to take off at any moment. “Does that kid ever stop moving?”

Jessi shook her head. “He’s thrilled to have his dad here, Maggie.”

“That won’t last,” Maggie said, then bit off a curse that told Jessi what her expression must look like. “I’m sorry, Jessi.”

“I know Lance is going to disappoint him, Maggie, and it’s going to be terrible.”

“You can’t protect him from his own father.”

“He’s just so…open.” Jessi let her gaze rest on the face of her son, shining with joy. He didn’t seem to be holding anything back, and no, maybe she couldn’t protect Benji, but she could damn well keep an eye on Lance. “When Lance leaves, Benji will be caught completely by surprise. And hurt like hell.”

“I think he’ll surprise you,” Maggie said. “He’s a tough kid. And he’s a smart kid. Don’t think he isn’t wondering where his father has been all his life and why he came back now. And speaking of reunions,” Maggie continued, “I hear Paige Walker is back on island.”

“No.” Mouth gaping, forgetting her own paranoia for a moment, Jessi leaned forward. “If she walked in that door right now, I’d kiss her on the mouth.”

“And here I thought you were on my side.”

“I’m just thrilled there will be some gossip that doesn’t concern me. Tell me she really did make that sex tape, and I’ll kiss
you
on the mouth.”

“Dex hasn’t been gone long enough for that to be an attractive proposition.”

Jessi snorted. “You should be so lucky. I’m a damn good kisser.”

“So I’ve heard.” Maggie studied her fingernails, picking at a ragged spot on her thumbnail.

“Hold told you?” Jessi hissed, then swore under her breath when Maggie lifted a brow and grinned at her. She plucked a menu from the tabletop holder, pretended to study it. “I cannot believe I fell for that.”

Maggie snatched the menu from her. “Give, Randal.”

“Okay, fine,” Jessi hissed, keeping her voice down. “There was a kiss. Or two.”

“That’s all? No wonder Hold has been lumbering around the office all morning, growling like a grizzly just out of hibernation. He’s starving, and you’re the snack he can’t have.” She held out her hand, waggling it back and forth like a fish swimming. “You’re the salmon fighting its way upstream. Every time he gets his paws on you, you slip out of his grip.”

“Very entertaining. In fact, the whole room is trying to figure out why you’re making fish motions.”

“I could tell them, if you like. It’s not very often I get to scoop all the busybodies.”

“Move and you’re dead meat.”

“I don’t know, Jess. You and Hold in a lip-lock is pretty irresistible. And I’m almost positive I can take you.”

“I’m small but scrappy, and I fight dirty when I have something to lose.”

“What have you got to lose?”

Jessi thought about that for a minute, then spread her hands. “I have no idea. I just know that with everything Benji has going on right now, the last thing he needs is hearing malicious lies about his mother.”

“Salacious, not malicious,” Maggie corrected. “And come to think of it, they’re not lies, either.”

“They would be by the time people like Shelley Meeker got done repeating them.”

Maggie tipped her head. “You’re right about one thing. Benji is what’s important here. And he doesn’t exactly look like he’s suffering, Jess.”

She looked over at her son, feeling heavy all over, as if lead flowed through her veins instead of blood.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. Hurt maybe, although it’s not rational for me to feel hurt.”

“Who ever told you feelings are rational?”

By the time AJ came to take Jessi’s and Maggie’s orders, the Horizon would have been in serious violation of the fire code if anyone had known how it read, and if the entire volunteer fire department hadn’t been in attendance. The possibility of Paige Walker, Hollywood incarnate, making an appearance was too much for even the die-hard homebodies to resist.

“It’s about time, Antonio Jeremiah,” Maggie said to AJ, still working her way down the alphabet in an attempt to guess his real name.

AJ just gave his big, booming laugh, and shook his head.

“I’ll get your name out of you some day.”

“Today is not that day. Why are you holding a menu?”

“Somebody I know was using it as a distraction,” Maggie said.

AJ shook his head again, this time in exasperation. “As if,” he said. “You’ll have white chicken chili and my jalapeño cornbread.”

“Put me down for a Maalox chaser,” Jessi said.

“For you, I’ll hold the jalapeños.”

“Lightweight,” Maggie said to her.

“You bet. I’m not good with too much heat.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Maggie said again.

“At least you waited until he was gone to unleash the innuendo.”

“You and Abbot are old news,” Maggie said, just as all noise in the place died out like someone had pulled the plug.

Jessi looked over her shoulder and there was the very movie star who’d replaced her as the new grape on the island’s vine. “Speak of the devil,” she said.

Maggie snorted. “Paige Walker could teach Satan a trick or two.”

“Still holding a grudge?”

“You call it a grudge. I call it a lesson well learned.”

“Don’t look now, but I think Paige wants to bury the hatchet.”

“Then I’ll keep my back to the wall.”

Maggie watched Paige make her way across the room, stopping every now and then at one table or other, mostly so she could strike a pose and bask in the admiration. And she was downright gorgeous, damn it, every strawberry blond hair in place, her porcelain skin blush perfect, even in the Horizon where the air was always slightly smoky from a fireplace that had never vented properly.

Her mink coat gaped open enough to reveal the lush body beneath, her breasts swelling above the neckline of her designer frock with just the right balance between sexy and classy. She looked as fresh and pretty as a dewy rose.

Maggie had always felt homely, awkward, and frumpy next to her.

Nothing had changed.

“Hey, Paige,” someone called out, “how about a private screening?”