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A Stranger In The Cove
Rachel Brimble
He came for answers… He never expected to find herMac Orman is on a mission. When he discovers his recently deceased father had been searching for his birth mother, Mac aims to finish the job by finding the grandmother he never knew. His quest leads him to Templeton Cove—and a firecracker of a woman who instantly jump-starts his tortured heart.For Mac, Kate Harrington is the most tempting kind of distraction. But their sizzling connection comes with a side of suspicion for Kate, who doesn’t trust this brooding stranger in her town. Mac arrived with no plans to stay, but as he falls for Kate, he wonders how he could ever possibly leave.


He came for answers... He never expected to find her
Mac Orman is on a mission. When he discovers his recently deceased father had been searching for his birth mother, Mac aims to finish the job by finding the grandmother he never knew. His quest leads him to Templeton Cove—and a firecracker of a woman who instantly jump-starts his tortured heart.
For Mac, Kate Harrington is the most tempting kind of distraction. But their sizzling connection comes with a side of suspicion for Kate, who doesn’t trust this brooding stranger in her town. Mac arrived with no plans to stay, but as he falls for Kate, he wonders how he could ever possibly leave.
Coming in here had been a bad idea. He needed to leave. Now.
He turned toward the door.
“Mac?”
He stopped and squeezed his eyes closed. Kate.
“Hey.” Her palm touched his back.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned. “Hey.”
Her smile was warm as she looked deep into his eyes, assessing him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He tried to drag out something casual. Or any words would be welcome. His brain had frozen at the sexy, happy sight of her. Her chocolate-colored eyes gleamed under the overhead lights, her cheeks flushed and her body damn near perfect in an open-necked shirt and tight black jeans.
She frowned. “Well, as much as I’m getting used to your permanent scowl, you don’t look fine. What are you doing here?”
He stupidly dropped his gaze to her mouth and memories of how she tasted flooded him. He snapped his gaze past her shoulder and shrugged. “I came looking for you.”
Dear Reader (#ue10c7dc7-e979-5295-a96a-e1b421cafe7f),
Welcome back to Templeton Cove. I’m sad to say this will be our very last visit to my favorite English seaside town.
This final installment revolves around a very special lady: Marian Cohen, the beloved, feisty, amazing matriarch of the town who stole my heart (and the miniseries!) from the very first book.
A Stranger in the Cove introduces Mac Orman, who has come to town searching for Marian, his biological grandmother. Unfortunately, one of the first people Mac meets is no-nonsense, protective, loving Kate Harrington. As a charity worker, Kate has seen her fair share of cases where people are hurting and angry. It isn’t long before she makes up her mind that Mac is in town to cause trouble for her close friend Marian.
This book encapsulates the joy I’ve had writing Marian’s escapades throughout the miniseries. She means the world to me! Throughout Kate and Mac’s journey, I was reduced to tears of happiness and sorrow as I finally revealed Marian’s past.
I hope you enjoy this book, and if you’re visiting Templeton Cove for the first time, I urge you to read the rest of the series.
It’s a sad goodbye from me to a town I love with all my heart.
Rachel
Twitter: @rachelbrimble (https://twitter.com/rachelbrimble) Facebook: Rachel Brimble (https://www.facebook.com/rachelbrimbleauthor/)
A Stranger in the Cove
Rachel Brimble


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
RACHEL BRIMBLE lives with her husband and two teenage daughters in a small town near Bath in the UK. After having several novels published by small US presses, she secured agent representation in 2011. Since 2013, she has had eight books contracted with Harlequin Superromance (Templeton Cove Stories). She also has four Victorian romances with eKensington/Lyrical Press.
She likes nothing more than connecting and chatting with her readers and fellow romance writers. Rachel would love to hear from you!
This book is dedicated first and foremost to Susan, Clare, Debbie and Karen Brooks, my husband’s birth mother and sisters with whom he was reunited almost three years ago. I love you so much, ladies, and we feel so blessed to have you, your partners and our new, precious nieces and nephews in our lives.
I’d also like to dedicate this book to my fabulous editor, Piya Campana—there aren’t words to express how much your expertise, knowledge and support over the five years of our working together means to me. I wish you all the luck in the world as our careers take a new path. Let’s make sure we keep in touch!
Contents
Cover (#uc1c076e2-b1d5-52ad-9062-f4b99615d316)
Back Cover Text (#ua1f2513f-5c61-5e4d-a9ec-2104a232fa28)
Introduction (#ue1884087-8865-5ab0-83c9-07ab94993a32)
Dear Reader (#ud71b17f3-d07a-5cb2-bb48-b950e60c8731)
Title Page (#u8d992a76-336e-504d-956b-96a83bd1c2be)
About the Author (#uaeff2a4b-77f8-5498-852c-0d953d33ec35)
Dedication (#ue710436c-2ea4-5711-bc96-fe13c09beb63)
Chapter One (#ub0445734-c5d5-5b00-bd9e-a54df2964651)
Chapter Two (#u03c73355-5c2c-5416-b7ae-15299cd64713)
Chapter Three (#u4115223e-d7c8-51fe-b494-24686a8503b7)
Chapter Four (#u2eaba3a1-bc6f-5cd4-9b80-03c4c041da68)
Chapter Five (#u3c91e640-b658-5cfe-a15f-ecb68e911718)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ue10c7dc7-e979-5295-a96a-e1b421cafe7f)
KATE HARRINGTON’S ENTIRE body trembled with annoyance when the not-so-honorable Mayor Binchy abruptly ended their phone call. She slammed the phone receiver back into its cradle.
The nerve of the man!
She glared around Templeton Cove’s Teenage Support office. It buzzed with activity, her colleagues busy talking on phones or scribbling notes, heedless that dusk fell beyond the plate glass window.
Frustration boiled dangerously inside her. She and the rest of the staff had dedicated every hour possible into making the upcoming fund-raiser a success. Tickets had been selling well for months, and the team was on track for an impressive donation to the local hospital’s new young mother and baby unit.
But how was she meant to impress the three or four major donors to the event in three days’ time if the mayor had deemed the entire day and night a “non-priority”?
Young, unmarried mothers who’d been kicked out of their homes or had found themselves all alone with a baby to care for were a non-priority? Kate ground her teeth. She’d like to make a priority of ramming a red-hot poker up Mayor Binchy’s ass.
“Whoa...” Her colleague Nancy Marshall approached, pushing her glasses up her nose. “What, or who, has put that look on your face?”
Kate scowled. “The look that says I might just wring someone’s neck?”
Nancy nodded. “Uh-huh, exactly.”
Kate tipped her head back and groaned. “This fund-raiser means so much to all of us and I really wanted the mayor to show his support on Saturday.” She dropped her chin and glared. “Is that too much to ask of the man who supposedly champions the town and supports the community? Mayor Binchy is a waste of space if he deems lone mothers a non-priority.”
Nancy’s smile vanished, and she flicked her long black hair over her shoulder. “He said that?” Her eyes widened. “To you?”
“Yep.”
“The man must have a death wish.”
“Agreed.”
“And what did you say after he said that?”
“He cut me off somewhere around, ‘shall I bring a few of these mothers to your place so you can explain where you stand?’” Kate blew out a breath and sat behind her desk. “Forget him. We don’t need some stuck-up know-it-all to front this fund-raiser. All we need is plenty of press interest, and that’s pretty much a done deal. We’ve got music, food, marquees galore...not to mention the Moon Shadows.” Kate felt marginally appeased that one of the UK’s up-and-coming country rock bands backed their campaign. “So, did you want my help with something?”
“If that’s okay...” Nancy grimaced. “Although now is probably not the best time to let you know about another no-show for Saturday.”
“What?” Kate’s optimism wavered once more. “Who?”
“The lead guitarist from the Moon Shadows is sick. The bassist has promised he’ll find a replacement. I’m just worried how the crowd will react to not having Jason Stewart there. He’s the main man, after all.”
“Since when has a guitarist been the main man? What’s wrong with the lead singer?”
“Nothing. It’s just Jason is...” Nancy’s dark eyes glistened with mischief. “Well, Jason.”
“Hmm.” Kate picked up a pen and tapped it on her desk. “As long as they find a replacement and the show can go on, it will be fine. I’d like to think people in the Cove will be there for the cause...even if the mayor isn’t.”
“True.” Nancy pressed her ever-present clipboard to her chest. “Is there anything else I can take off your plate? You look so stressed.”
“I’m fine. Really.” Kate pushed the curls from her brow and forced a smile. “See? All good.”
Her colleague raised her eyebrows, her gaze disbelieving. “If you say so. I’ll see you in the morning then, okay?”
“Sure. Have a nice night.”
Kate dragged some papers from the overflowing tray on her desk and resigned herself to another late night. Her eyes itched with tiredness, and her body ached from the hours she’d put in over the last month trying to pull together what she hoped would be a fund-raiser to beat all fund-raisers.
She put the final touches on the last press release before the event and emailed it to the Cove Chronicle’s editor. With any luck, Claire Neale would run a story about the event on page two, even if she wouldn’t promise Kate the front page. The local radio station had been great, and Kate’s entire team had worked social media to the breaking point, but still, any last-minute ticket purchases would be welcome.
She picked up the phone and dialed the Chronicle’s number. Considering the last press release she’d sent had gone astray, Kate needed to be sure this one was safely received.
“The Cove Chronicle, Claire Neale speaking.”
“Claire, it’s Kate.”
“Hi. What can I do for you?”
“I just sent you the press release for Saturday’s fund-raiser. I’d really appreciate you running it tomorrow, if possible.”
“Can’t do tomorrow, Kate. You should’ve had this with me days ago if you wanted it in tomorrow. I’ll tell you what, as you’ve got the Moon Shadows coming, I’ll put it on page two on Friday. Okay?”
Should she tell Claire about the lead guitarist? No. What good would that do for the cause? “Great. Okay. That’s good. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now, get off this phone. Some of us want to get home before nine, if we can.”
“Sure. Have a good one.”
Kate hung up and leaned back. She stared out the window toward the purple-gray clouds beyond. Only a few skeleton staff remained in the office, none of whom she really knew past work. She took a long breath. She was in need of some company. Some fun company. It niggled that she’d not managed to secure the mayor’s attendance and that the main draw of the Moon Shadows would be a no-show. What else could go wrong?
She needed to get out of here and lighten her mood.
Shutting down her computer, Kate grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
A couple of drinks and some friendly company at the Coast and she’d be feeling more positive, ready to fight for some more backing tomorrow. Her charity work mattered—to her, and to the teenagers she tried to help. She would not be beaten down from working for mothers who’d had the courage to go through their pregnancies and the birth of a new baby alone.
She pressed her hand to her stomach. She would’ve found that courage if the baby she’d once carried had made it...if she’d managed to keep her child safely cocooned in her womb.
Kate’s heart grew heavy as fresh doubt and a sense of ineptitude pressed down on her. She quickly buttoned her coat against the February chill and shook off memories that would only serve to upset her. Lately, it felt as though she was losing her fire, failing herself and others. She could not give up her work or her determination to succeed. If she did, she’d have nothing left but the haunting memories of the baby she’d lost and how that had brought her to work at the center in the first place.
That, and Marian’s support, of course.
Kate smiled as she thought of the town’s matriarch and baker, Marian Cohen. A wonderful woman who had also been a surrogate mother to Kate through one of the worst times of her life. She’d never take Marian’s continuing love and comfort for granted. Not ever.
With that thought, Kate’s steps lightened, and a slow smile appeared as she strode toward the Coast.
* * *
MAC ORMAN WALKED to the window of his room above the Coast. Light snow swirled around the parking lot, and the old-fashioned streetlamps shuddered in the gathering wind. Maybe the idea of starting his search for Marian Ball, or Marian Cohen as she was known these days, could wait until morning.
He walked to the small desk in the corner of the room. Papers were strewn across the top, along with his father’s notebook. The chaos reflected Mac’s frame of mind. Despite knowing before he came here two days ago that Templeton was a small town, the lack of activity—and the increased chance of being noticed as a stranger—was worrying. For a fleeting moment, he’d wondered if he had made a bad decision coming to this seemingly sleepy town where a newcomer would undoubtedly be scrutinized like a rare museum piece.
The last thing he wanted was a bunch of nosy people wanting to know him and his agenda.
He’d been exposed to the same suspicion repeatedly as he’d walked along the high street until he’d found the Coast. Why his pretty average appearance could evoke such blatant evaluation was beyond him. Not that it mattered. Self-righteous and judgmental people he could deal with. It was comfort and sympathy from others that irked him.
Mac walked back to his bed and flopped backward against the pillows, picking up one of the letters the adoption agency sent to his father. Whatever happened next, he was here now, and he wouldn’t leave until he’d achieved his goal. Closed community or not.
There would be no going back once he started making enquiries, and many people in this small seaside town might be affected by his actions. He dropped his gaze to the correspondence, feeling guilty.
Marian Ball, married name Cohen—Now resident in Templeton Cove.
Approx. 65 years old. No other children.
He folded the letter and exhaled.
God only knew how things would go. Judging by the stony welcome, there would be plenty of people wanting to know who he was and what he was up to. Mac smiled wryly. Well, all they’d know was he had a job to do. A job he was keeping from his family, one with the potential to turn his world—and theirs—upside down.
Templeton Cove, with its rows of seafront shops, B and Bs with vacancy signs hanging from fancy posts, tempting restaurants and bustling offices, was where he would find his biological grandmother. Marian Cohen had given Mac’s father up for adoption, and, according to his father’s research, she now lived in the Cove. She’d been married for eight or nine years but hadn’t had any more children.
Mac clenched his jaw as further resentment whispered through him.
No other children.
Reading between the lines of his father’s sometimes indecipherable notes, the circumstances surrounding his father’s conception had not been ideal. The implication of possible abuse, neglect or abandonment had been alluded to, which was why his mother had asked him to let the search for Marian Cohen go. To leave the past in the past now that his father had passed.
The strain of keeping this trip a secret from his mother and older sister had bothered him for weeks, but now he was here, there would be no going back. He closed his eyes.
His family didn’t feel the same drive to find Marian as he did. Why would they? It was Mac who’d lost his girlfriend and their unborn child, and the future happiness that had been torn from him by a drunk driver.
Anger burned in his chest, and Mac snapped open his stinging eyes to glare at the ceiling. Life was too damn short to ignore a person because you might not like what they had to say, where they’d been or what they’d done.
Rightly or wrongly, Marian Cohen deserved to know what kind of man her son—his father—had been. She deserved to know Dan Orman had cared for his family, worked hard and tried to be everything a good husband and dad should be, but time and again he’d failed.
Insecurity and self-doubt had incessantly plagued Dan’s personal life, no matter how successful his business. Over time, he had pushed away his wife, barely managing to keep the love of his children. Abandonment and unworthiness had pulsed in his blood.
Mac knew all too well the legacy his father’s biological mother had left him with—and Marian Cohen was to blame for her son’s every failing.
Guilt didn’t belong in Mac’s mission, only determination...and resolution.
Neither did the cowardice of a phone call. Marian Cohen would look her grandson in the face.
Pushing up from the bed, he walked into the bathroom. A quick shower and change and then he’d head downstairs for a beer or two. The Coast, with its polished ship’s wheel hanging in pride of place on the wall, ropes looped across the ceiling and the whole interior decorated to resemble a galleon from years gone by, was as corny as any little seaside bar could be.
Yet when he’d arrived, the place had been packed, a three-piece band playing on a raised platform and the small dance floor in front of them decently full for a Wednesday night. From what he’d gathered from the people who frequented the place, the Coast was quite probably the most popular bar in town.
Mac undressed and stepped into the shower. He’d be lying if he said the Coast’s inexplicable familiarity hadn’t influenced his decision to stay here. He’d immediately relaxed a little and allowed the informality to seep inside him and bolster his reasons for being here.
In bars, no one cared who or what he was. When he played and sang, all they cared about was that his music relieved them of their worries.
The sense of loss that squeezed his chest confirmed how improbable it was he’d ever share real love with anyone again. Jilly had been gone three years, and although Mac dated, was open to what might be with someone else, no woman had come close to rekindling his belief in true, lifelong love.
If everything he’d once dreamed of—marriage, kids, a home—wasn’t to be, he could accept that. But what he wouldn’t accept is Marian Cohen not knowing what being given up for adoption had done to his father’s confidence.
Mac was here now and God damn it, he would come face-to-face with Marian Cohen no matter what.
Chapter Two (#ue10c7dc7-e979-5295-a96a-e1b421cafe7f)
KATE TOOK A sip of her rum and Coke and laughed. “Vanessa, you can’t be serious. Since when have you tossed anyone out of the bar without good reason? Just tell me what she did.”
The Coast’s landlady glanced at her husband, who stood at the other end of the bar chatting with a couple of guys. “Dave will have something to say about me gossiping, but...” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Let’s just say the girl was in here looking for trouble. Whether that trouble landed her in bed with one of the locals or not.”
Kate shook her head and smiled. “That isn’t even a story. After all that build-up, I thought...” She looked at the guy who moved in beside her. Good Lord, of all things male and glorious. She cleared her throat and dragged her gaze back to Vanessa. “Anyway—”
“Well, hello there.” Vanessa deftly sidestepped and stood in front of the burning hunk of love who had just approached the bar. “How was your day? Is there anything you need?”
Kate feigned intense interest in the mirror behind the bar, surreptitiously checking the stranger out. His gaze briefly met hers in the reflection, and she quickly turned toward the pool table, smiling into her glass.
The man’s eyes were bright blue against his tanned skin. His hair was longer than she normally liked on a guy, but he wore it well. His shoulders were broad and sheathed in a worn, leather jacket, with only a rectangle of white T-shirt temptingly visible beneath.
“Spent most of it in my room, if I’m honest.” His voice was deep and just the right side of husky. “Everything’s good, though.”
“Glad to hear it.” Vanessa smiled. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a beer. Thanks. Oh, and some dry roasted nuts, if you have any.”
“Nuts?” Vanessa voice faltered. “Oh, nuts...of course. Coming right up.”
Fighting the urge to laugh, Kate faced the bar again and risked another glance at him. He’d leaned his back against the bar, his eyes narrowed as he stared toward the band playing onstage.
Nice, strong jaw. Wide shoulders. Dark lashes surrounding his phenomenal eyes. She lowered her study to his hand resting on the bar. Men’s hands had always been her thing.
Her mouth dried. Big and strong-looking, his nails nicely trimmed and veins popping in just the right way. The man’s hand bolted him at ninety miles an hour from the starting line to the winner’s podium in her book.
“One beer.” Vanessa placed the glass, none too gently, on the bar and smiled at Kate before turning to Mr. Bad Boy. “And one bag of nuts.”
“Thanks.” He lifted the beer and drank.
Kate stared at his throat as he swallowed, aware Vanessa was staring, too. He lowered the glass, and Kate snapped her study to the mirror.
He swiped his hand over his mouth. “Do you have any other bands lined up for the week?”
Vanessa exhaled. “Not this week, as we’re hosting a big fund-raiser on Saturday. It’s going to be a lot of fun. You should be there.” She glanced at Kate. “Shouldn’t he?”
Kate took a deep breath and forced her gaze to his. “Sure.” She held out her hand. “Kate Harrington. I’m in charge of the fund-raiser. Nice to meet you.”
Ignoring her hand, he nodded, his gaze intent on Kate’s as Vanessa moved away to serve another customer.
Kate stared back. His refusal to shake her hand made her attraction wane. “I manage the Cove’s Teenage Support charity. You might have passed by the office. We’re just off the main promenade.”
“Can’t say I have.”
She narrowed her eyes as he turned back to the band. What was this guy’s problem? She wasn’t sure if it was her, Vanessa or the entire town that made him behave like a jerk, but she as sure as hell wasn’t going to let him ignore her. Sometimes manners had to be taught. “So, you’re visiting? Anyone I might know?”
“I doubt it.”
Tension radiated from him as he took another slug of beer. Not to be put off, Kate picked up her drink. “Saturday’s fund-raiser is for a new mother and baby unit that opened at the hospital a few months ago.” She waited for him to look at her.
“Mothers and babies?” His bright blue eyes burned into hers. “Great cause.”
Surprise mixed with pleasure and, at least momentarily, quashed her reservations about him. She smiled. “Glad you think so. So how long are you staying in Templeton?”
He sipped his drink, his gaze moving back to the band. “I don’t know yet. At least a week.”
He faced her and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
Her cheeks warmed, clearly her annoyance with him showed in her voice. “No. Not at all.”
He slowly ran his gaze over her face, lower to her neck, lingering on her chest for just a second longer than necessary, before he focused on the stage again.
She lifted her glass to her lips. Every inch of her body was intensely aware of him, and she didn’t like it. Not one tiny bit.
The guy was aloof, standoffish...maybe even downright rude.
Good looks and even better bodies were not to be trusted. This guy could be just as much of a cheater as her ex. Even more so, if his terse manner was anything to go by. So why did she want to keep looking at him?
He leaned his elbow on the bar and faced her. “So...” He took a sip of his drink. “Do you live around here?”
Feigning nonchalance, she sat straighter on her stool and put forth as much of a welcoming attitude as she could. It wasn’t this stranger’s fault he’d briefly—very briefly—attracted and intrigued her in one very dangerous blow. “Yes.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s all I get?”
“That’s all you get.” She held his unwavering gaze. His voice was rich and deep and had the same warming effect on her as a shot of whiskey on a cold night. “That is, until I know a little more about you. Your name would be a good start.”
He drank. “Mac. Orman.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
He studied her for a moment before he took a drink. “So, what else do you want to know?”
Her gaze dropped involuntarily to his mouth, most likely betraying her nonchalance. She shifted on her seat and lifted her eyes to his. “Why don’t we start with what brought you to the Cove?”
The seconds ticked by, his blue eyes darkening.
Kate’s nerves whispered with tension. “Was that not a good question to start with?”
He flitted his focus to the band once more. “I’m here on business.”
She frowned. “In Templeton?”
“It’s as good a place as any, isn’t it?”
She hazarded a guess that his cold tone was meant to make her believe it was no big deal why he was in Templeton. Little did Mr. Bad Boy know, she was blessed—or sometimes cursed—with the ability to read between the lines and notice when something wasn’t quite right with a situation. Her senses pinged to high alert with this guy, at the stiffness in his body, his clenched jaw and, quite frankly, his whole defensive demeanor.
She eyed him over the rim of her glass. “You don’t strike me as the type to have work in a small town. You have city nightlife, city women and city trouble written all over you.”
He faced her. “Why trouble? Because of the way I’m dressed? The fact I’m in a bar on my own?” He shook his head. “Give a guy a break, won’t you?”
She fought to keep her cool and shrugged. “You seem, I don’t know, a little guarded, that’s all.”
“Is that right?” Another sip of his drink. “Then why don’t we talk about you?”
She frowned. “What about me?”
“Well, I know your name’s Kate. I know you work at a charity. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why a charity? Why that charity?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, but I wanted to see how open you are to sharing with strangers, seeing as you’re expecting so much from me.” He lifted his beer and looked around the bar. “As I thought. None of my business. Like why I’m in town is none of yours.”
She narrowed her eyes as she glared at his profile. “Fine.”
Vanessa reappeared and slapped a ledger on the bar. “Wow, we are fully booked for Saturday, Kate. It’s going to be a good one, judging by the people traveling in from out of town.” She glanced at Mac and frowned. “I know I promised you a double room if one became free, but are you okay with a single until after the weekend?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Can’t see any reason I’ll need a double.” He glanced at Kate, and the first semblance of a smile lifted his lips. “At least not for the first week.”
Her mouth dropped open, but nothing quick or smart emerged.
He faced Vanessa. “Where do you recommend I go for breakfast tomorrow?”
Concern flitted into her gaze. “You haven’t enjoyed the breakfast here?”
“It was fine, but I want to venture out. Discover a bit more about this little town.”
Little town? Kate shifted. The derogatory way he referred to the Cove niggled.
“Well, there are some good cafes on the seafront, a bakery if you want some ridiculously delicious pastries and superb coffee. Other than that, the Christie offers full English, but they’re kind of pricey.”
He sipped his beer. “Great. Thanks.”
Kate drained her drink. Suspicion whirled inside her about this man and his motives for being here. Mac Orman brimmed with confidence. His whole character screamed that he knew where he was going and what he was doing.
Yet, something about his cold gaze told her he wasn’t quite as self-confident as he made out. If his interest in the fund-raiser was anything to go by, he could be the caring type.
He nodded toward his empty glass. “Could I get another one of those?”
Vanessa picked it up. “Sure.”
“And one for the lady.”
Kate flinched. “Me?”
He nodded, his gaze steady on hers.
Damned if the man thought he could faze her. She lifted her chin. “A rum and Coke would be great. Thanks.”
Vanessa grinned. “You’re so funny, Kate. As transparent as a sheet of glass.” She shook her head. “I’ll go grab those drinks.”
Kate shot a glare at Vanessa’s turned back before taking a deep breath and facing Mac. She forced her mind to the matter at hand rather than wondering if he was ever going to take off his leather jacket so she could see what was underneath. “What sort of work are you in?”
“Work?”
“You said you were here on business.”
“Business, yes. Work, no.”
Kate frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means I have business with someone.”
The band finished, and he clapped, his gaze shrewd as he stared at the trio. “Are they local?”
Perplexed and more than a little frustrated by his change of subject, Kate glanced toward the band. “No, but they play here every other month, or thereabouts.” She studied his profile, her unease intensifying. “So, this someone is who brought you here...to this little town?”
Vanessa slid their drinks on to the bar. “Right. I’ll leave you two alone. I need to get some work done before that husband of mine bursts a blood vessel.” She leaned closer to Mac and lowered her voice. “He’s always a little overly suspicious of the good-looking guys who come in here. He’s got a bark like a Doberman, but he’s as soft as a teddy bear. Just don’t tell him I told you that.”
Vanessa walked away, and Kate studied Mac’s turned cheek.
“To answer your question...” He picked up his drink. “I’m looking for someone.”
Inexplicable protectiveness wound through her for the people in the Cove. “Who?”
“That’s not really something you need to know.”
Her senses screamed with warning as he faced the band once more, his jaw tight as he watched them pack up their gear.
“It’s personal.”
His clipped, no-nonsense tone stopped further words from spilling from her too often unstoppable lips. She snapped her mouth closed.
The atmosphere was strained between them, and her mind raced as she ran her study over his neck and shoulders. Would he bring trouble to town? Looking to wreak some kind of vengeance? To right a wrong? He certainly bore the expression and stance of someone incredibly pissed about something.
Her best friend, Izzy, often accused Kate of running full-throttle and letting her overactive imagination leave her sanity behind. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the foreboding running through her. Her past made her suspicious. She didn’t like people making judgments. Assuming things when they had no idea. But she was doing exactly that with Mac. He wasn’t to blame for her ex. For her mother. For her sister.
She drained her drink, wincing as she swallowed. She needed to get out of here before Mac said anything else. She needed to leave the guy the hell alone. “Okay, well, it was nice to meet you. I’d better get home. I have a full day tomorrow.”
“Sure.” He kept his gaze averted and took another drink. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Maybe you will.”
With all the poise she could muster, Kate slipped from her stool and brushed past him, deftly weaving through the thinning crowd and out the door.
She was known throughout the Cove for her lightning wit and her savvy comebacks, not to mention her no-holds-barred fund-raising strategies. Yet tonight, this stranger had reduced her to a suspicious crime-busting detective at best...or a dumbass, suspicion-fueled idiot, at worst.
She pulled her phone from her purse and texted Izzy.
Just met a man who could be here to cause one hell of a stir for someone in the Cove. I’ll pop by the gallery tomorrow morning xx
* * *
MAC RETURNED TO his room, but once inside, he found everything annoying, even the window’s sea view. He tipped his head from side to side. The tension in his neck and shoulder muscles indicated sleep would be a long time coming.
The feisty woman, with her dark brown eyes and thick, curly brown hair, had been a welcome diversion, but now she’d gone, guilt had returned for the reason he was here and the task he had ahead of him. Kate Harrington’s questioning had only increased his determination to confront Marian. The doubts he was doing the right thing by telling her about the man her son had been, would not make Mac hesitate any longer.
He strolled to the window and opened it, breathing in the cold night air. Restless, Mac stared at the remaining three or four cars visible in the lamplight as the bar emptied for the night. His conscience pulled at him to call his mother. It wasn’t unusual for days to pass without him calling her, weeks, if he was on the road with some band or other. But if he called her now, her instincts would tell her something was up.
The last thing he wanted was to rouse his mother’s suspicions.
He closed the window and walked to the desk. He retrieved one of the envelopes and shook its contents on to the bed.
A photograph of his father landed face up and Mac picked it up. His dad smiled at the camera, one arm slung comfortably around Mac’s mum’s shoulders and his other hand resting lightly on Mac’s older sister’s waist. His fourteen-year-old self stood tall beside her, his chest puffed out and his first guitar proudly held in front of him.
Happy times. Good times.
His smile faltered as loss snagged his chest.
Times that would never be repeated now his father was dead. The futile hope his mother and father might one day reunite crushed. According to the dates in his father’s notes, he hadn’t yet started his search for his birth mother when this picture was taken. And it had taken many years after before he’d finally found her.
Exhaling, Mac dropped the letter, damning the cardiac arrest that had taken his father just three months before. Walking back to the desk, he picked up a red, hard-backed notebook and opened it. He scanned his father’s notes. Through these writings, Mac had realized how his father’s search for his biological mother had consumed him. His notes were intense and methodical...pretty much like the man himself.
Yet, his father had chosen to keep his findings a secret and had never contacted the woman who had given him up.
Mac swiped his hand over his face. A sure sign of his father’s habitual insecurity. Yet another example of how Marian’s abandonment must have impacted her son’s life—unbeknownst to her, of course.
But now Mac was here in Templeton, and he would find Marian Ball. Find her and make sure she learned what kind of a man her son had been.
He could start his pursuit of the old lady tonight. The last two days he’d either been holed up in his room trying to pin down a strategy or he’d wandered aimlessly around town looking at the various townhouses, wondering if Marian lived behind one of their doors, his indecision about speaking with her hounding him. But now, as frustration and impatience overtook him, his hesitation vanished. Mac gathered up the papers and stuffed them in the desk drawer along with his father’s notebook.
Snatching up the keys he’d been given upon arrival, Mac left the room, and headed downstairs Once he’d locked the back door behind him, he glanced at the upstairs windows. No doubt his departure at this time of night would cause talk. No curtains twitched and no shadows were cast behind glass.
Satisfied he hadn’t been seen, Mac walked through the garden to a small gate that took him on to a back street. He breathed deep. The cold night air was invigorating and washed away the uncertainty of whether being in the Cove was a betrayal to his father. His mother had confessed to him after the funeral that she’d dissuaded his father from looking for Marian years before, fearing what a second rejection could do to her then husband.
That reason had been weak, almost cowardly, in Mac’s opinion. Even if the circumstances that led to his father’s adoption turned out to be upsetting, his father should’ve had the guts to hear them.
As well as the notebook, his father had left behind a diary in which he had recorded his feelings and thoughts throughout his investigations. Mac’s mother’s pleas had not fallen on deaf ears. Not only had his father heard them, his inner demons had echoed them.
Mac scowled.
Well, his father’s heart had decided to call it a day...suddenly and brutally, leaving his family flailing. Since the death of his girlfriend and their baby, Mac had had trouble dealing with grief. So he’d done the only thing he could.
He gotten busy finishing what his father started.
Mac stalked through the side street until he emerged onto the main thoroughfare, which ran alongside the beach. Crossing the road, he walked across the wooden-planked promenade and gripped the railing. The guilt for abandoning his family in their hour of need pressed down on him, and he battled the sting in his eyes as he looked toward the blackness of the ocean, its waves crashing.
Conflicting determination and doubt warred inside him, and Mac turned his back to the beach to stare across the street. He hadn’t walked this far along the seafront since he arrived.
He stilled, every hair on his body rising.
Marian’s Bonniest Bakery.
The bakery’s awning was pulled back, and its latticed, cottage-styled windows were unfettered by curtains or blinds. It looked homey, inviting...motherly.
He narrowed his eyes as adrenaline caused his heart rate to speed up.
He slowly straightened from the railing and walked forward as though pulled by an invisible rope. He barely glanced in either direction as he crossed the street.
Once he reached the other side, he flitted his study from the bakery’s name to its window. Over and over, he repeated the sequence, his mind scrambling. What were the chances his father’s birth mother owned this place?
He stepped closer to the window and curved his hands around his eyes as he tried to see inside. In the shadowed darkness, he saw pine tables and chairs, a few booths along the window and a counter in back. The place was a decent size, and a profound sense of welcome permeated its light-colored walls dotted with sketches of cupcakes and loaves of bread.
Jolting away, Mac turned and marched along the pavement, his fists clenched as trepidation unfurled inside him. In his mind, he’d purposely decided Marian Ball was someone who put herself first. A woman who had left her baby behind to seek an untethered life without husband or child to hamper her. That had been the easier scenario to carry until he learned the truth.
Templeton Cove might be small, but certain sections were high-end and expensive. So he’d envisioned her living out a wealthy retirement by the sea, heedless of her long-abandoned child trying to track her down.
As unfair as that might be, considering a woman’s limited choices almost fifty years ago, it helped Mac to bury his anger. He wanted to find Marian Ball and lay his father to rest. He hadn’t come here to find a grandmother he might like.
The bakery didn’t fit with any of his imaginings, and that scared him.
What if she was welcoming and warm? What if she’d had other kids and his father was mistaken?
He gritted his teeth, focusing on the pain of all he’d lost. The woman needed to know how her decisions had affected her son and, in turn, his children.
Yet, the enormity of what might happen next continued to badger him. He needed to think some more. Tomorrow he would come back here, order some breakfast, check out the locals and, of course, check out Marian and her bonniest bakery.
Chapter Three (#ue10c7dc7-e979-5295-a96a-e1b421cafe7f)
KATE PUSHED OPEN the door of the View and entered the chic art gallery.
Across the room, Izzy, her best friend and the gallery’s manager, stood in front of a painted landscape, her arms crossed and her head tilted in contemplation.
“Iz?”
“Mmm?”
Kate prodded her friend’s arm. “Hey.”
Izzy turned, her eyes glazed in obvious thought. “What do you think of this piece? I’m trying to decide if I like it or not.” She turned back to the painting. “Jay acquired it on one of his business trips. He loves it, but I’m not sure.”
Kate glanced at the painting and shrugged. “Sea, sand, sky. What’s not to like? Now...” She gripped Izzy’s arm and pulled her to one of the cushioned seats in the center of the gallery’s open floor plan. “We, me and you, have to figure out what we’re going to do about Mac Orman.”
Izzy frowned. “Who?”
“Mac. The guy I texted you about last night.”
Izzy raised her eyebrows as they sat. “What we’re going to do? You have noticed I’m working at the gallery full-time now, as well as trying to organize my wedding. Do you really think I have time to worry whether or not a mysterious stranger who just arrived in town is going to end up sleeping with my too highly strung, too much in need of sex, best friend?” Izzy sighed. “Sorry, my life’s far too busy right now.”
Kate feigned a glare and playfully swatted Izzy’s shoulder. “Are you actually trying not to laugh?”
“Of course not.”
Kate narrowed her eyes and nudged Izzy again. “Nothing about this guy, nothing about my text to you last night is funny. Absolutely nothing.”
Izzy’s blue eyes glinted with undisguised glee. “This is priceless.”
“What is?”
“You.”
Kate’s cheeks warmed with indignation. “Some friend you are.”
Izzy frowned, and when she spoke, her tone was less amused. “You need to calm down.” She searched Kate’s eyes. “My God, this guy has really gotten to you, hasn’t he? Just how good-looking is he?”
“He’s...he’s... Oh, damn it.” Kate slumped. “He’s hot. Really, really hot, but that doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy. He’s up to something. Something that can only mean bad news.”
“Just because some guy strolls into town and puts your knickers in a twist doesn’t mean he’s up to anything. Maybe you don’t trust him because he’s made you think about sex for the first time in far too many months.”
Kate huffed a laugh. “Ah, see? That’s where you’re wrong. I think about sex a lot. It’s the doing I haven’t done for months. That’s by the by. The point is, Mac admitted he’s in town looking for someone.”
“And?”
“And the look on his face, all chiseled jaw and flashing blue eyes, when he said it, told me that when he finds this unfortunate person, he isn’t going to give them a hug. No, siree. The man looked more likely to bite their head off and feed it to the seagulls.” Kate shook her head and pushed the curls from her cheeks. “I don’t like it. Not one bit.”
“But you like him.”
Did she? Even after a night of almost zero sleep and hours of thinking about Mac, she still wasn’t sure what to make of him. “Yes. No. I don’t know.” She stood and walked around the seat before facing Izzy once more. “I have no choice but to find out what he’s up to. What if my instinct’s right and someone we know is going to be upset by Mac’s arrival, or whatever it is he plans to do or say to this person? Won’t I be in some way culpable?”
“How?”
“Because I could’ve forewarned them. Maybe helped to smooth a few of Mac’s clearly ruffled feathers. You didn’t see his face. He’s up to something, and it doesn’t bode well.”
“But he’ll only see you as nosing into his business.”
“I’m not nosing, I’m concerned. For him and whoever he’s here to see.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Anyway, I’m trained for this sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing? Prying?”
Kate glared. “Caring. I’m a charity worker. I care about people. It’s what I do.”
Izzy stood. “Look, if this guy is looking for someone, there’s not a lot you can do about it. Leave him be. If, on the other hand, you like him, why don’t you drop by the Coast tonight and talk to him? Maybe he’ll tell you more about the reason he’s here. But if this is another one of your lost soul missions, Kate, you need to steer clear. I get the impression he spooked you. Maybe it’s better you leave him alone.”
“Spooked me?” Kate laughed, ignoring the pang of truth she felt at Izzy’s words. “Since when has anyone spooked me? Let alone a long-haired, teeth-flashing, blue-eyed, incredibly tall...man.”
Izzy raised her eyebrows. “Are you forgetting who you’re talking to? What about Dean?”
“What about him?”
“He hurt you. Badly. Maybe this Mac guy spooked you because he reminds you of Dean.”
“He’s nothing like Dean.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Kate opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, a hundred comparisons between Mac and her ex flickered through her mind. She swallowed. “Okay, fine. You’ve nothing to worry about because Mac doesn’t seem at all interested in hooking up with a woman. He practically sneered at everything I had to say, and he was by no means impressed with Vanessa’s teasing.”
“Then the man must be an ass. Which is exactly what I thought about Dean when I first met him.”
“That’s not fair.” Kate whirled away and strode toward the painting Izzy had been staring at when Kate came into the studio. Her friend had hit on the nerve that had been the cause of the most fitful night Kate had suffered in months. Mac did have the same dark hair and broodiness about him as her filthy, cheating ex. Yet, there was something different about Mac. Something she wanted to explore.
Needing to change the subject and simultaneously lash out, she chose a new target. “Jay Garrett has really bad taste.”
“You think?”
“Well, not in gallery managers, obviously.” She flashed Izzy a smile over her shoulder. “But in paintings, yes.”
Izzy came to stand beside her and draped her arm around Kate’s shoulders. “Why don’t we talk about my wedding instead? Maybe that will take your mind off Mac Orman.”
“How are the plans going? Is there anything you want my help with?”
“Not right now, but you could come over later and help me drink a fine bottle of Chablis.”
Kate grinned. “Absolutely. Look, I’d better go, but I’ll come by your place around seven.”
“Perfect.” Izzy walked Kate to the front door. “So, what are you going to do about Mac?”
“I don’t know. Yet. But you’re right. I can’t afford to get mixed up with a bad boy again.”
“Dean was a long time ago. You can’t let one bad relationship put you off the type of guys you’re attracted to forever.”
“I’m not attracted...it’s just that for a fleeting moment he seemed genuinely respectful of what I do for work. I liked that. My gut is telling me somewhere behind that angry exterior is a decent bloke.” She crossed her arms. “Maybe I could help him.”
“Kate...”
“What? All I’m saying is, if I can stop him going in all guns blazing, I will. I know what it feels like to be backed into a corner. Mac seemed ultra-tense. Like he’s got no real idea how to speak with this person when he finds them. It was...weird.”
“Weird? Or just something you couldn’t immediately solve?”
Kate sighed. “Both. I’d better go.”
“Okay. See you later.”
Kate left the gallery and made her way along the high street toward the Teenage Support office, buttoning her coat against the late winter chill. Her head bent low, she wondered when it would ever feel like summer again in Templeton.
What she needed was a hot cappuccino and one of Marian’s breakfast rolls. A guaranteed diversion from Mac. She pushed him to the back of her mind and forced her focus on the day ahead.
Deserving and desperate kids and their families needed her full concentration and dedication. Maybe Izzy was right and Kate should butt out of Mac’s life. What drove her to reach out to people was her work with those who had been bullied—and experiences she had with her mother. Mac was a big boy who most likely knew exactly what he was doing.
Feeling more positive, Kate pushed open the door of the bakery and shook out her curls, already turning to frizz, thanks to the cold sea air. When she looked up, her eyes were drawn toward one of the booths. Mac Orman sat with some papers in front of him as he stared toward the counter, his eyes narrowed.
What looked to be a half-eaten breakfast had been pushed to the side. He turned his focus to the open notebook in front of him and scribbled something on the page, his expression grim with stony concentration.
Kate’s suspicions rocketed. Was whoever he was looking for in the bakery right now? Was he writing down their actions or day-to-day business for some reason? Was he stalking someone? She looked around. Nobody seemed to be taking any notice of Mac and his notebook. She took her time hanging her jacket on the old-fashioned coat stand as she furtively watched him.
There it was again. He looked at Ella behind the counter and made a note. Then he looked at an older woman Kate didn’t recognize. Made another note. What was he up to?
Mac glanced toward her and flinched. Aha! She lifted her chin. Caught red-handed. Whatever he was writing certainly wasn’t innocent. She straightened her spine and walked toward him as he quickly shut his notebook and slipped it on to the seat beside him.
* * *
MAC FORCED A slow smile and tried his best not to be distracted by the sexy, disheveled sight of Kate Harrington. Her deep, dark eyes were almost hypnotic, but he’d have to be half-blind not to notice the concern in her gaze when she’d questioned him last night. She seemed nice, sweet...and all sorts of sexy mixed in. Another time, another place, he might have been interested.
But not here. Not now.
He needed Kate to keep her nose out of his business. To let his cold façade slip would risk his pursuit of the elusive Marian Ball.
Judging by the suspicion in Kate’s gaze as she marched toward him, she’d seen him checking out the locals. She glanced toward the counter and back again, annoyance etched on her pretty face. Her shoulders lifted as though she were bracing herself before she dropped them and stood right beside him.
Here goes...
He stood in the hope she wouldn’t sit. “Morning.”
She stared. Her eyes assessing, judging.
He raised his eyebrows. “Getting breakfast?”
“And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.” She eyed him carefully. “You?”
He tilted his head toward his table. “Breakfast done and pretty nice it was, too. This Marian, whoever she is, must be one hell of a cook.”
“She is, but Marian’s out of town. It would’ve been Ella or one of the other girls who fixed your breakfast.”
He stilled and tried not to inhale as her words knocked the wind out of him. How could he not have considered Marian Ball might be out of town? He forced his expression into cool nonchalance, but from the way Kate’s gaze bored into his, alight with interest, he knew he’d already been analyzed, and a calculation had been made.
He slid back into the booth. “How well do you know Marian?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes. It’s a simple enough question.”
Annoyed, Mac said, “I’m trying to be friendly here. Make a little conversation. If you don’t want that...” He tilted his head toward the counter. “Don’t let me keep you.”
“Fine. I know Marian really well.” Uninvited, she slid into the booth opposite him. “As do most people in town.”
Mac studied her. How much could he say, or ask, about Marian Ball without arousing Kate’s obvious distrust. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh.” She held his stare, her eyes giving away nothing.
He blew out a breath. “So, this place is hers?”
“I’m pretty sure she owns it now, but it was Jay’s, and his father’s before him.”
Mac frowned and glanced toward the counter. “Jay?”
“Our resident millionaire. He’s as cute as hell and richer than Rockefeller, but the guy only has eyes for two women in town.”
“Two women?” Mac smiled. “You don’t strike me as the kind to talk so fondly about a guy dating two different women. You got a thing for him?”
“No, but Jay’s a great guy. He’s kind and generous, my friend’s fabulous boss, a loving husband, and a great father to his little girl, Sarah.”
“Ah, his wife and kid. I get it.”
“Do you?”
He frowned as wariness clouded her gaze. “He’s married, he’s a daddy. That’s the two women in his life.”
She leaned her forearms on the table, her brown eyes dark with warning. “You need to understand something about the people in this town, Mac. For the most part, we’re good and caring. We look out for one another. Certain people have done amazing things for me and they’ve asked for nothing in return. That makes me protect them and do all I can to ensure their happiness. So, if you’re here looking for somebody, I hope you’re not intending to upset or hurt them in any way.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m here to resolve some unfinished business, remember?”
“Yes, I do. Personal business. Which, judging by the way you’re looking at me, might irritate the hell out of me.”
She slid her gaze to the side of his seat. “So, why the notebook?”
He glared. Who did she think she was? “Are you kidding me?”
“Far from it.”
“You think I’m going to sit here and let you question me again? For the love of God, I only met you last night.” He leaned forward, matching her posture. “You need to forget you met me. Forget why I’m here. I’m in the Cove for good reason—a reason that has nothing to do with you.”
Her cheeks flushed, but her eyes only hardened further. “Be that as it may, you’ve got me concerned.”
He sat back and crossed his arms. “Why? What business is it of yours who comes into the Cove? Regardless of their purpose.”
She stared at him before looking around the bakery. “I...” She met his gaze and slumped. “Fine. You seem on edge. If I can help—”
“You can’t.”
“Is it Marian? Is that who you’re looking for? Because if it is, you need to know she’s the boss around here.”
God, the woman was canny. He’d give her that much. He sighed, no more able to stay angry with a pretty woman than he could with his mother. “I kind of figured that.”
“Not the bakery. The town. Marian is the boss of Templeton.”
He searched her expression for the flashes of teasing and laughter he’d seen in her eyes at the Coast. She stared back at him, her gaze solemn.
“So, she’s a dragon? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“A dragon? Marian?” She huffed a laugh. “Marian is the furthest thing from a dragon you’re going to meet. Of course, on occasion, she can be way too bossy, but her heart’s in the right place. She’s kind, caring, and supportive to everyone. Sure, she might breathe fire now and then if someone upsets one of her brood, but she’s got the people who deserve her love at heart. Which means, Mr. Orman, if you upset one of us and are still here when she and George return from vacation, your ass is going to be pinned to the wall before you have any chance to flash that sexy smile of yours.”
Marian flew from his brain, and he smiled. “Sexy?”
“I’m serious.”
“Well, thanks. I’ll take the compliment gladly.”
She looked away with a scowl. Mac studied her profile. He couldn’t decide if he was more attracted to her when she flirted or when she was angry. Either way, he wouldn’t be acting on it. Not in a town where the woman who could be his father’s birth mother lorded it over the residents as though she were some kind of guardian angel.
If Marian the baker was his biological grandmother, she was the woman who’d given her child up for adoption. He needed to know why and how that happened. The woman Kate described didn’t sound like she could be the Marian he was looking for. Would someone maternal, caring and protective really be okay knowing she had a child out there somewhere?
Kate slid from the booth. “I have to go.” She stared at him. “Just take my advice and don’t go upsetting anyone in town. Whatever your issue is, think it through carefully. I’ve known far too many people who have come close to destroying themselves by holding on to anger, planning revenge, or forever regretting something they can’t change. None of those things solve anything. Believe me.”
The sudden sadness in her eyes made his chest ache, and he touched her hand before he could consider the crack such physical contact would create in his veneer. “Hey, you okay?”
She glanced toward the door. “I’m fine.”
“Has someone hurt you?”
“Of course not.” She hitched her purse higher on to her shoulder. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m asking.”
She hesitated, her focus falling to his mouth before she nodded and headed for the exit, breakfast clearly forgotten.
Mac watched her rush along the street until she was out of sight. Whatever had caused her unchecked sadness, Kate Harrington was strong, feisty and full of determination. God only knew how the unfortunate guy who ended up falling in love with her would get through their years together with his balls intact.
Picking up his notebook, Mac slowly rose before walking to the counter. He smiled at the young girl serving. “Can I settle the bill, please?”
“Sure.” She rang up his purchases. “That’s seven twenty, please.”
He handed her a ten-pound note. “So, when does Marian get back from holiday?”
“Next week. She’s going to be full of stories. I can’t wait.”
“Stories?”
“Oh, yeah. Her and George, that’s her husband, are a blast. So funny...” Her eyes twinkled with laughter. “So naughty, if the truth be told. Here, that’s two eighty change.”
“Thanks.” He dropped the coins into a pot on the counter and glanced at the leaflet taped to its side. Proceeds for the fund-raiser at the Coast. Contact Kate Harrington for details.
He looked up and met the girl’s gaze. She tilted her head toward the pot. “You should come along. It’ll be a fun night.”
“Oh, I will.” He smiled. “Most definitely.”
Chapter Four (#ue10c7dc7-e979-5295-a96a-e1b421cafe7f)
KATE EMBRACED THE adrenaline flowing through her as she ducked into the marquee that had been erected at the back of the Coast. Although a little harassed, she thrived on the pressure of creating successful events. Despite the light snowfall, the lit space was warm and inviting. People had been wandering in for the last hour. As the time for the Moon Shadows to play neared, that trickle became a steady stream.
Couples and families milled around, some grouped by the heaters, laughing and enjoying their drinks amid the growing anticipation of the fun ahead. As the colored fairy lights along the top line of the marquee danced across the faces of the revelers, Kate scanned the room.
The fund-raiser needed to go off without a hitch. The money already collected was fantastic, and two of the four major donors who’d arrived looked to be enjoying themselves, seemingly impressed with the decorated marquee, stalls and family games scattered around. She glanced toward the makeshift stage at the far end of the marquee.
Now all she had to worry about was the Moon Shadows delivering three no-holds-barred, hour-long sets to take the crowd into the evening. Then Nick Carson would take over as the DJ for the late-night dance party.
Kate narrowed her eyes. As far as she could see, only four members of the band had arrived. Where was the replacement?
“Kate?”
She turned at the light touch to her shoulder. “Hi, Vanessa. Everything okay?”
“Sure.” Vanessa adjusted her hold on the crate of glasses she carried. “I’m just going to deliver these to the drinks table. Hopefully, with an extra bar set up, we can easily cater to the number of people we’re expecting.”
“I hope so.” Kate glanced around. “There are far too many young mums in the Cove. It’s imperative we do all we can to help them.”
Vanessa’s gaze softened. “Hey, you do all you can to help everyone. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everything’s going to be great.”
“Hmm, I hope so.” Kate cleared her throat. “So, have you seen anything of Mac today?”
Vanessa’s smile faltered before she lowered the crate to the floor. “No, have you?”
Concerned by the sudden unease in Vanessa’s eyes, Kate frowned. “He hasn’t done something to upset you, has he?”
“Not as such. No. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Kate touched her friend’s arm. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Vanessa sighed. “His attitude worries me, that’s all. Dave and I have done all we can to make Mac welcome, but he doesn’t seem to want what we have to offer.” She grimaced. “Maybe I’m too used to people enjoying themselves when they’re here.”
“He hasn’t been asking you personal questions, has he?”
“No. Why?”
Hating that Mac Orman held a secret that was pretty much guaranteed to affect someone she knew, Kate crossed her arms. “I’m just concerned he might be in the Cove for all the wrong reasons.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I for one, trust your judgment. If you think I need to give Mac some space—”
“I didn’t say that. In fact, I think we need to do all we can to keep him close.”
Vanessa smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. “There wouldn’t be an ulterior motive in there somewhere, would there?”
“No.” Kate feigned a glare. “So, you can stop looking at me like that. Considering I caught him in the bakery the other day looking as though he was taking notes on some of the people in there, you can say I entirely distrust the man.”
“Taking notes? What do you mean?”
“He had this book and he was scribbling in it as he studied people. The minute he spotted me, he snapped it shut clearly not wanting me to read anything.”
“Isn’t that understandable? The guy’s entitled to his privacy, right?”
“Hmm.”
Unease whispered through Kate as it had time and again since she’d left Mac at the bakery. Right along with memories of the way he’d spotted her vulnerability at the end of their conversation. “Something’s definitely up with him.”
“And you’re going to find out what.”
Kate nodded as determination rose inside her once more. “Yes, I am.”
“Good. I’ll see if I can find out anything, too. But in the meantime, let’s be nice to him. I’m sure he’ll turn out to be an okay guy, and this notebook is nothing to worry about. He’s probably plotting a book or something.”
“A book?” Kate huffed. “Plotting, period, more like it.”
Vanessa picked up the crate and shook her head. “I’ll see you later.”
As her friend walked away, Kate exhaled a shaky breath and headed toward the band as they warmed up their instruments and checked leads and microphones. She really needed to focus and forget Mac Orman. For now, at least. “Hey, guys.”
She recognized the lead singer from the band’s poster as he came toward her, his smile warm and his hand outstretched. “Kate Harrington, right? Joe Masters. It’s good to finally meet you in person.”
Kate shook his hand. “Same to you.” She looked over the stage. “It seems as though you have everything under control. Will you be ready to kick things off in fifteen minutes or so?”
“Absolutely.”
“Only, I was a little worried the replacement guitarist isn’t here.”
“He’s not.”
Her heart picked up speed. “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“He’ll be here any second, I’m sure.”
“You’re sure? But you’re due on in minutes.”
Joe winked. “Relax. Everything will be fine.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he jumped onto the stage and proceeded to talk with the drummer. Kate took a deep breath. She had people to greet, donations to lock in the safe as well as a hundred and one other things to check on. If Joe Masters said his band would be ready, she’d have to trust him. But if a new musician didn’t show up in the next ten minutes, she’d be on the phone to every local band she could think of to ask if their guitarist would spare a night to play with an up-and-coming band for charity.
Stopping to chat and greet people as she went, Kate made slow progress toward the food stand. where Dave, the Coast’s landlord, was, happily cooking burgers in a closed, mobile oven.
Kate leaned on the counter beside him. “It’s going well, isn’t it?”
“Never had a doubt.” Dave pointed his tongs toward the main bar inside. “There’s plenty of people in there who will make their way out here once the Shadows start.” He frowned as his attention landed on something over Kate’s shoulder. “He’s a strange one, that Mac Orman. Not sure what to make of him, even though Vanessa, God love her, tries to convince me he’s all right.”
Kate turned and her heart kicked. Dressed in blue jeans and a black shirt beneath his ever-present leather jacket, Mac looked just as ridiculously hot as he had when she’d seen him in the bakery a couple of days before. She thought over Vanessa’s observations, interested to hear Dave’s take. “What do you mean by strange?”
“Well, the guy clearly isn’t lacking in the looks department, if the way Vanessa was watching him earlier is anything to go by. He seems pretty sure of himself, but...”
She faced Dave, pleased she wasn’t the only one impervious to Mac’s charms. “What?”
He turned back to the oven. “Something tells me that guy is here with an agenda. I don’t like strangers with agendas.”
Kate looked at Mac again. He stood near the band, wearing a stony expression and holding a bottle of beer. “No, me neither. Maybe I should try to uncover that agenda. What do you think?”
“By all means, if you think you can. Just do me a favor?”
“What?”
“If anyone asks, this little bit of digging was all your idea, not mine. Okay?”
Kate smiled. “You’re not actually scared of Vanessa, are you?”
“’Course not, but if she thinks I’m causing trouble, I’ll be sleeping on the couch. At my age that doesn’t do my back any good, if you understand what I’m saying.”
“Understood. I’ll keep my investigating to myself.”
He nodded and Kate took a deep breath before she headed toward Mac. He turned as she neared, almost as though he sensed her approach. He clearly struggled to change his expression into something less hostile as his slow study drifted over her body, seeming to assess every part of her.
Kate’s stomach knotted with attraction. But there was no way of knowing who Mac was, or what he was capable of. Her guard needed to be in place at all times.
She forced a smile as she stood in front of him. “Mac, nice to see you again.”
His gaze lingered on her mouth before he met her eyes. “I’m surprised to hear you say that, but thanks.”
Deciding she would make a better detective if she smoothed the tension between them, she laughed. “Just because I’m concerned why you’re here doesn’t mean I don’t like you. You seem pleasant enough. So, did you come in for a look around? Or do you plan on staying awhile?”
“I thought I’d check out the band. The Moon Shadows are pretty good.”
She glanced at the band, more than a little concerned that the guitarist hadn’t shown up. “I’m not much for country rock, but from what I’ve heard, they aren’t half bad.”
“What sort of music do you like?”
She shrugged. “Acoustic, Ed Sheeran, that sort of stuff.” She faced him. “And I’m partial to some ballads and smooth jazz on occasion.”
He nodded, his gaze intense on hers. “Good choices.”
Their eyes locked, and the noise around them faded. Kate struggled to look away, struggled to speak. “Any more luck finding the person you’re looking for?”
“Not yet, but it’s early days.”
“Early days?” She faced him. “You plan on staying longer than a week?”
He took another gulp of his beer. “If I have to.”
“But you can’t.”
His blue eyes brightened with amusement. “Why not? I thought it was Marian who was the boss around here. So far, no one named Marian has tried to push me out of town like you are.”
“I’m not trying to push...” She glared. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Tormenting me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I torment you?”
“No.” Her cheeks burned. “You infuriate me.”
“Then my aim has been met.”
She opened her mouth to respond when the leader singer from the band joined them. “Kate? Could I have a word?”
Grateful for the interruption, she faced the singer. “Sure. What can I do for you?”
He grimaced. “Bad news. I just called the replacement guitarist. He can’t make it.”
Her stomach dropped. “And he’s only told you now? Can you get by without him?”
“No can do, I’m afraid. Can’t play our songs without a lead guitarist.”
“Then what am I supposed to—”
“I’ll help you out.” Mac stepped forward and extended his hand to the lead singer. “Mac Orman. Guitarist.”
Joe shook Mac’s hand. “Joe Masters.”
Kate stared wide-eyed at Mac, her heart beating fast. “You? You’ll step in?”
He flashed her a smile. “Anything to help out a lady.” He turned to the singer. “I’ll just run upstairs and get my guitar.”
Joe frowned. “How well do you know our music?”
Mac nodded. “Really well. Big fan, in fact. Well, except for the times I’m looking for some ballads or smooth jazz.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open, but words failed her as Mac headed inside the bar. She stared at the empty doorway and snapped her mouth closed.
Joe patted her on the shoulder. “There you go. Panic over. Told you I had everything under control.”
He strolled away, leaving Kate standing alone and flailing in a sea of attraction, grateful to a man she really didn’t want to lean on. But apparently with Mac, she didn’t have a lot of choice.
* * *
MAC HUMMED A Moon Shadows tune as he let himself into his room, reliving the look of shock, then relief on Kate Harrington’s face. That had been worth a million pounds. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to be the one to ease a woman’s stress and worry. He wanted to do both for Kate, even if his reasons weren’t entirely honorable. He needed a way to lessen the woman’s distrust of him so he could get on with his mission.
The question was, why had she made his business her business?
He grabbed his guitar from where it lay on a chair and took his phone from his pocket to silence it. His mind wandered to Kate once more. She looked fantastic in a pair of tight blue jeans, black boots and a peach knit top. Decent, yet almost indecent. Just the right side of sexy.
He dropped his gaze to his phone, and his smile promptly disappeared.
The display showed three missed calls from his older sister. Immediate guilt warred with his need to keep what he was doing in Templeton to himself a while longer.
But if he avoided her, Dana would only keep calling. His sister was never one to be impeded by anyone, especially her younger brother. He pressed the button to return her call.
She answered on the second ring. “At last! I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”
Mac shouldered the phone and grabbed a pick out of his guitar case. “What’s up?”
“What’s up? Where are you? I can’t believe you’d take off like this. Not when we need you here.”
Culpability pressed down on him. “Why do you need me there? I know Mum’s upset about dad, divorced or not, but it’s you and her grandchildren she needs around her, not me. What can I do to ease her grief? You know what I’m like with that kind of thing.”
“You mean sympathetic? Empathetic? Caring? Don’t talk rubbish, Mac. You’re amazing with Mum, with me, with all of us. Your disappearing makes no sense.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I had a commitment for a gig. I couldn’t get out of it.” He left the room, closing the door behind him. “There’s nothing I can do but to see it through and then I’ll be back. Okay?”
“No. Not okay. We need you here. I can’t be with Mum 24/7 when I’ve got two kids and a husband away working. Please, will you just come home?”
“I can’t. Not yet.” He hurried down the stairs and through the bar, steadfastly ignoring the curious stares directed toward him and his guitar. “Dana, look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Where are you? It sounds kind of noisy.”
“That’s because there’s a crowd of people here waiting for me to get on stage. We’ll talk later. ’Bye.”
He ended the call, doing all he could to banish his sister’s words. Right now, he needed to concentrate on erasing the suspicion from Kate Harrington’s beautiful eyes and have her look at him with respect, maybe even a little wonder if he played well enough. His new, slightly worrying, reasons for wanting to do so were as dangerous as they were stupid, considering he’d recently acquired the troublesome desire to know if her lips were as hot as the rest of her.
He liked her spirit and the way she didn’t let anyone—including him—push her away or around. He had a feeling she’d make a much better friend than enemy. If his playing could allay her misconceptions about him, all the better.
She stood talking with an older couple, and as he walked by her, she turned and touched his arm. “Mac, just a second.” She smiled apologetically at the couple. “Will you excuse me?”
“Of course.” The man nodded. “Good luck with everything. You do the town proud.”
“Thank you. Enjoy yourselves.” She faced Mac, her brow furrowed. “Are you sure about this? I’m just about to introduce the band, and I don’t want you to think I’ve put you under unwanted obligation.”
He stared into her worried eyes, and an entirely unanticipated concern for her swept through his chest. Why did it suddenly feel preferable to have her angry at him, rather than looking so anxious? “I’m doing this because I want to help you out. Nothing more, nothing less. It looks amazing in here, and if people are having a good time, they’ll stay longer and spend more money. We both know the Moon Shadows are a big part of today’s attraction. Let me do something toward making today a success. Okay?”
Her cheeks flushed and her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
He walked up the three steps to the stage.
Joe Masters came forward and slapped his hand to Mac’s shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver, man. Let me introduce you to the band.” He pointed as he spoke. “Over there, we have Josh on drums, Will on bass and Lola, who will be singing backup vocals.”
Mac raised his hand, acknowledging the band’s curious but welcoming study. “Mac Orman. Pleased to meet you all.”
The next few minutes passed quickly as Joe talked Mac through the proposed set. Once Mac had convinced the lead singer he knew each of the original and cover songs well enough to keep up, Joe left the stage in search of Kate.
Mac took up his position and released a slow breath as he looked out at the audience. Women smiled at him, while guys focused on his guitar or the rest of the band. Every face looked happy, comfortable. Potentially, a really good crowd. The familiar buzz pooled in his stomach as it did every time he played. His gaze fixed on Kate as she emerged through the throng and climbed the steps onto the stage.
She didn’t so much as glance in his direction as she walked to the microphone. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I’m thrilled to see so many of you here already. There are burgers and hot dogs near the rear of the tent, as well as drinks available at the temporary bar or inside. As you know, today is all about raising money for the hospital’s new mother and baby unit. Please, give what you can for this worthy cause.
“Okay, that’s enough from me. I’m thrilled to leave you in the capable hands of the Moon Shadows and special guest guitarist, Mac Orman.”
Mac stared at the back of her head as a jolt of unease pierced through him. Why hadn’t he considered that she might offer his name to the whole damn town? So much for melting into the background.
She clapped along with the rest of the audience as she made her way down the steps in her sexy, high-heeled boots. He struck up the first note, watching her progress through the tent. It wasn’t until she tossed a triumphant smile over her shoulder at him that Mac realized the public announcement of his name had been intentional.
Clearly not content with her own careful watch on him, she wanted the whole town on high alert.
Kate Harrington didn’t trust him, didn’t like him and wasn’t going to be happy until he left town for good. That much was obvious. He glared at her as she started chatting with a group of women in their twenties who enveloped her affectionately. Mac turned to the audience, purposefully catching the eye of another twentysomething female.
He tipped her a wink, and she returned the compliment with a bright smile and glittering eyes. But it didn’t calm his frustration that, no matter what he did or said, nothing seemed to lessen Kate’s curiosity about him.
Well, one way or another—he strummed the opening bars of the first song—he’d see through what he came to the Cove to do. Whether she watched him like a bloody hawk or not.
Chapter Five (#ue10c7dc7-e979-5295-a96a-e1b421cafe7f)
KATE STOOD AT the temporary bar and rejoiced in her ingenuity. Mac thought he was so cool, so full of bravado and smugness as he continued to keep his mission secret from her. Well, he might have the new knack of freezing her tongue while simultaneously inflaming her body, but flooring her by stepping onstage to save her from certain disaster had backfired on him big-time.
Now she’d publicly introduced him. The well-known busybodies in the Cove would be all over him.
Her triumph faltered. So, why didn’t that sentiment feel as good as it should?
She swallowed. Could it be because he hadn’t given her enough reason to be outed that way? He might enjoy tormenting her, but he’d not actually done anything to anyone—yet. What he had done was help her out of what could have been carnage, considering the number of Moon Shadows fans present.
Shame warmed her cheeks as she watched him onstage. His skillful playing easily held rhythm with the rest of the band, his furrowed brow and concentrated gaze reflecting his determination to do a good job.
What was wrong with her? Why did she keep hounding him, just because he seemed determined to keep her, Vanessa, and everyone else, at arm’s length? All she had to justify her suspicions was his refusal to share with her. She might be able to talk with teenagers who came into the center, but that didn’t make her someone people were willing to divulge their intimate and personal stories to.
She had no idea what Mac was dealing with by coming here. No idea of what it meant for him to find this person. Yet, something about him gave her reason enough to want to know. Her sense of foreboding had not abated since the night she’d met him. That had to mean something, surely?
Her mind drifted back to his questions about Marian, and Kate’s apprehension escalated. What if it was Marian he was searching for? What if he was after the woman she owed so much to...possibly her life?
Kate’s eyes burned as images of the night she’d miscarried her baby in Marian’s home reared up. Poor George, Marian’s devoted husband, had rushed to call the ambulance while Marian rocked Kate in her arms on their bathroom floor. Her hidden pregnancy had been revealed to at least two people in the most horrendous way.
Yet Marian hadn’t only respected Kate’s wishes for silence about the baby, she’d stayed by Kate’s side for two nights in the hospital and then offered her a bed in her own home until Kate felt strong enough to walk about town as though nothing had happened...her heart silently breaking.
She pulled back her shoulders and glanced in Mac’s direction.
One way or another, she’d get him to admit Marian wasn’t who he was looking for. The anger, resentment or whatever it was that made the man so damn hostile would not be directed on her beloved friend.
Turning away, she lifted her hand to Vanessa. “Can I get a glass of white wine?”
“Sure.” Vanessa frowned as she reached for a wine bottle in an ice bucket. “How you doing?”
“Good.”
Vanessa glanced toward the stage. “Are you sure about that? I know I said I’ll see what I can find out about Mac, but maybe both of us are plain out of order.”
Kate took her glass of wine. “I’ve just been thinking the same thing, but I don’t trust him. I’m overprotective of certain people, and I don’t like the idea of someone coming into town and causing them grief.”
“But is he, though?”
She put down her glass and lifted her hand, counting off her fingers. “He’s snarky. Rude. Arrogant. And, as you’ve said, practically unapproachable.”
Vanessa nodded toward the stage. “I wouldn’t exactly call him unapproachable. Would you?”
She walked away to serve some people at the bar, and Kate looked at the crowd around the stage. People were clapping, smiling and cheering as Mac played a solo bridge. She narrowed her eyes. So, people liked his music. Big deal. It was still his fault that her deepest, darkest secret had reared its ugly head now that she thought Marian was the one in Mac’s firing line.
Kate had hidden her pregnancy and miscarriage from everyone, including her family. And she’d failed to keep her baby safe. So she punished herself by staying single and keeping her tragedy to herself. If she ever became intimate enough with someone that she trusted him, she’d undoubtedly want to share her burden.
But for now, she didn’t want anyone, apart from Marian and George, knowing what happened that day.
She’d already lost friends with her snappishness and bouts of withdrawing. She didn’t want to lose anyone else. Kate blinked against the burning in her eyes...she’d desperately wanted to keep her baby.
Vanessa sidled up to the bar, her gaze shrewd. “I know what’s going on with you. I’ve figured it out.”
Kate’s stomach somersaulted, her heart thumping. “What?”
“Maybe you have a thing for him.”
Releasing her held breath, Kate laughed. “I do not.”
“No? Then I’d say he might have a thing for you.”
“Don’t even go there.” Did he? She sipped her wine as pleasure twisted inside her. “Why would you say that?”
Vanessa smiled. “Because I noticed the atmosphere between the pair of you the moment you met. Electric.”
Kate huffed a laugh, heat warming her cheeks. “We couldn’t be more different. He’s as secretive as they come...which is incredibly infuriating. Plus, I get the impression he’s used to living out of a suitcase, whereas I love having the Cove to call home.”
“So?”
“So, Mac Orman and I couldn’t be less suited.”
“So?”
Kate glared. “Will you please think of something else to say?”
“If he doesn’t want to share his business, maybe that’s his prerogative. Maybe it would be better for him and us if you find a way to get along with him while he’s here.” Vanessa turned to another customer who had come up to the bar. “What can I get you?”
Rolling her eyes, Kate turned toward the stage. What did Vanessa know? So something about Mac had gotten under her skin. The intensity in his eyes, the coldness of his attitude was exasperating, yet he’d stepped up to help her and was even smiling at the audience. A little. The guy was a contradiction, and it bugged the hell out of her; she wasn’t ready to trust him.
She’d let her guard down with Dean and look how that had ended up. She hadn’t spoken to her sister in two years. And she missed Ali so much more than she ever missed her ex.
Mac left his spot farther back on the platform and strolled up to the microphone. Kate’s melancholy about her sister vanished as her heart stumbled. Mac’s stride was confident as that soft smile played at his lips. What was he doing?
He nodded his thanks to Joe Masters and gripped the microphone with one hand, casually pushing his too-mussed, too-sexy hair from his forehead with the other. He flashed a smile. “Afternoon, ladies and gents. Joe asked if I wanted to do an acoustic version of one of my own songs as a way of introducing myself and my music. Would anyone mind?”
Kate’s heart beat a little faster. Had Joe actually offered Mac this solo time or had he asked Joe if he could sing in order to torment her again? A part of her longed to hear him sing...longed to know how bad he might be, despite today being about people getting their money’s worth. The thing was, some incompetence on his part might at least go some way to crushing her emerging attraction to the man.
The crowd whooped and clapped their approval as Kate took a generous mouthful of wine, her gaze on Mac.
As soon as he struck up the first note, Kate’s stomach knotted with a horrible, traitorous thrill.
Then he sang.
Every hair on her body rose.
She closed her eyes and let the music...let Mac...wash through her senses. She couldn’t stop her smile, and she couldn’t halt the tingling infusing her skin. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
He looked straight at her, and, even from a distance, she could see the no doubt intentional temptation in his gaze. She should’ve walked away. Instead, her feet remained rooted to the floor, her eyes on his.
The realization of just how much trouble she could find herself in mixed with the physical effects of his rich, melodic, utterly beautiful voice. How was she supposed to stop herself from acting on the sudden desire pulsing through her? It had been months since she’d even looked at a man, let alone felt this incredible pull toward one.
She wasn’t naïve. She knew this was pure lust that hung between her and Mac. Old-fashioned, come-to-mama attraction crackling across the space that separated them.
Kate quickly turned away and picked up her glass of wine, steadfastly ignoring the way it trembled as she drank.
“Hmm.” Vanessa leaned her forearms on the bar and whispered in Kate’s ear. “Like I said, electric.”
Accepting defeat, she put down her glass and covered her face with her hands. “Why now? Why when I’m so far away from trusting a man again does one have to turn up who looks like that?”
Vanessa straightened. “We don’t get to choose the timing of these things. Surely you, of all people, know that after all the heartbreak you’ve seen in your work.”
She walked away, leaving Kate feeling both afraid and shamefully enthralled. Turning toward the stage again, she studied Mac; thankfully, he was concentrating on his guitar strings. Maybe she needed to act cool about his being in the Cove and looking for someone. Act as though it was no big deal.
A bit less animosity, might help them both. If she adopted a no-nonsense business approach to him, surely that would douse the fire and fuse the electric. One thing was for certain—now that Mac had stepped in to help her fund-raiser, she had to speak to him, had to show her gratitude. Avoiding him was out of the question.
* * *
MAC BOWED TO the rapturous applause that reverberated throughout the space and tried his hardest not to search the crowd for Kate. The occasional sadness he saw in her eyes was slowly increasing the burden of his subterfuge, making him want to get to know her better...to prove to her he was a good guy. Mostly.
Straightening, he raised his hand in thanks and slipped his guitar strap over his head as he exited the stage. Accepting the back claps and nods from the people he passed, Mac headed to the bar. A cold bottle of beer would quell the strange blend of euphoria and self-doubt rippling through him.
There was no denying the warmth that emanated from the people around him, no denying his relief at their congratulations and easy acceptance of him considering the less than favorable welcome he’d received from certain individuals. He didn’t like small towns. Never had, never would. He lifted his finger to Vanessa at the far end of the bar. Why he didn’t like them escaped him, though. Was the dislike his own or something he’d been taught by his family? As far as he knew, they’d never even lived in a town the size of Templeton.
His father had known for a while Marian Ball lived here. Had he inferred something to Mac in the past that made his son overly cautious about communities he knew nothing about? Most likely. Kate was problem enough, but he had to keep everyone else at an enforced distance, too, or risk divulging something about why he was in town. He had to ensure Marian was the first to know, nobody else. He might want closure to his father’s search, but Mac also wanted the woman to hear what he knew from him and only him.
“Hey, Mac.” Vanessa opened the fridge behind her and pulled out a bottle of his preferred beer. “You did good out there.” She flipped off the top and slid it across the temporary bar. “That one’s on the house.”
“Thanks, but as the proceeds are going to charity...” He tossed a few coins into the bucket on the bar and took a lengthy slug. “All in the name of helping out those less fortunate, and all that.”
“Hmm, not sure Kate sees your helping out that way.”
His defenses immediately slammed up. “Why? What’s she been saying?”
“Whoa.” Vanessa raised her hands, her brow creased and her gaze irritated.
Mac briefly closed his eyes. “Sorry.”
“So you should be. I’m just the messenger, after all.”
“The messenger?” Mac stilled. “Of what?”
Vanessa shrugged. “I just think the pair of you could get along quite nicely if you gave each other a chance.”
Matchmaking. Another reason he didn’t like small towns. He sipped his beer. “You’re way off the mark there. Kate and I are...” He scowled. “Working each other out.”
“Oh, that’s what you’re doing, is it?”
Vanessa’s eyes turned infinitely softer as he hovered his beer at his mouth.
She glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Hi, Kate. I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got some thirsty customers who need serving.”
Slowly, Mac turned. Kate held her chin high, her chocolate-brown eyes burning with annoyance, her cheeks flushed and her hands firmly perched on her slender hips. “I came over here to thank you for playing, only I didn’t expect you to be chatting so offhandedly about me to Vanessa. Do you know she’s one of the worst gossips in town?”
Despite, or maybe because of, her clear irritation, amusement rolled through him. “Then it’s just as well I didn’t give her anything to gossip about.”
She rolled her eyes and, slid up to the bar beside him. “If you’re not careful, you’ll constantly be walking into a whole lot of trouble.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, that’s so.” A sly smile curved her lips. “Which leads me to the conclusion it might be to your benefit to enlist some local help.”
“Help? With what?” Then realization dawned and he laughed. “No thanks. I’ve got it covered.”
Her smile vanished and her cheeks reddened. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Why are you so nosy?”
Her mouth dropped open. “I’m not nosy, I’m concerned. You’ll be chewed up and spat out if you go nonchalantly poking around in people’s lives. You’ve told me you’re looking for someone but won’t tell me who or why. Why don’t you let me in a little? I know Templeton and its people well. I’m betting I can help you find who you’re looking for in a matter of hours.”
“Hours?”
“Fine. Days.”
He raised his eyebrows, unable to resist provoking her temper. “Because if you can find them quicker than I can, I’ll be out of your hair all the sooner, right?”
“Right.”
“Is there an unwritten rule somewhere that a person can only stay in the Cove so long before they’re ejected by the locals? Why I’m here is my business, Kate. It’s got nothing to do with you.”
She held his stare as indecision flitted through her eyes. The noise around them faded as his heart beat a little too fast, indicating just how much he liked her. He shouldn’t like her. Her argumentative nature, her stubbornness and self-assumed right to get up in his business seriously irked him. Still, it was hard to ignore her thick, dark, curly hair that tumbled past her shoulders, leaving him itching to know if it was as soft as it looked. It was even harder not to want to fall headlong into her deep, dark eyes.
Blinking, he turned to the stage. “I don’t need your concern, okay? I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”
“Who said my concern was about you?”
He shook his head, took another sip of his beer. “Touché.”
“Here’s the thing. I’m concerned for who you’re looking for.”
“You’ve made that pretty clear.”
“So convince me I’ve nothing to worry about.”
“You haven’t.”
“Not good enough.”
Frustration pulsed through him as his defenses against her weakened once more. That damn worry glinted in her eyes again. He blew out a breath. “I just want to speak to this person. Get some things laid to rest. There won’t be any bloodshed if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t worried about that until now.”
He shook his head. “Look, this person is connected to my family. Okay? I just want to talk to her.”
Triumph flashed in her eyes. “Aha. A her.” Then, like a switch had been flicked, the triumph dissolved into apprehension once more. “Let me help you. I work with families all the time. I could at least act as a mediator or something.”
“No.”
“But—”
“I won’t need a damn mediator, Kate.” He clenched his jaw. “Just leave things alone.”
“No.”
He swiped his slightly trembling hand over his face. “Why does my being here bother you so much? Are you sure your nervousness is about someone else? Or more about you?”
She swallowed. “Someone else.”
Care for this woman and the inexplicable way she’d reacted to his presence since meeting him wound through him. There was something disconcerting in her eyes...the odd flicker of deep sadness, or shame, that made him want to hold her. Tell her everything would be okay.
“Hey.” He gently placed his hand on her arm. “I can tell something’s happened to you. What, I don’t know. But believe me when I say I’m not here to cause you more pain. Everything will work out as it’s supposed to. End of story.”
She snorted and turned, tears glinting in her eyes. “Nothing ever works out how it’s supposed to, and why should I trust that you don’t mean to hurt this woman? People hurt each other all the time.” She eased her arm from under his hand. “More often than not, the things people want, the things they hope for, never happen. If you don’t know that, you must have lived a more privileged life than most.”
The tear that rolled over her cheek made him catch his breath, and he battled against his weakening defenses. God, if only she knew how acutely he’d experienced the brutal destruction of hopes and dreams. Of heartbreak so bad, he’d never be the same again.
He leaned against the bar, felt the warmth of her arm alongside his. “My life has been far from privileged, believe me.”
She stepped in front of him, her dark gaze burning with frustration. “Fine. But by going up on that stage, you saved me from having a lot of disappointed people demanding God knows what from the center. I’m in no doubt that because of you, the fund-raiser will be the success my team and I hoped it would be. I owe you. Let me help you, Mac. Please.”
“I don’t need your damn help.” Yet inexplicable want edged far too close to his heart. He didn’t want her help, he wanted her in his bed; wanted her to look at him with lust, not pity. He tightened his jaw. “If that changes, you’ll be the first to know. So, please, just leave it be.”

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