Книга - From Temptation To Twins

From Temptation To Twins
Barbara Dunlop


The consequences that night…Juliet Parker returns home to her family’s restaurant, but there’s a problem as she clashes with her first love, the ever-so-gorgeous tycoon Caleb Watford, who's building a rival restaurant. The stakes skyrocket after one night together leaves her expecting two little surprises!







From enemy to lover to...father of her children? Only from New York Times bestselling author Barbara Dunlop!

Juliet Parker must save her grandfather’s restaurant from ruin. Unfortunately, her main obstacle, wealthy restaurateur Caleb Watford, not only has a competing business, but he also sets her pulse racing! What better way to negotiate than with red-hot seduction?

Soon, Juliet’s bedroom truce ends in pregnancy—with twins! The stakes have never been higher, and Caleb is used to winning—in business and in pleasure...

From Temptation to Twins is part of the Whiskey Bay Brides series.


“Do you want me to kiss you?”

His voice was husky to his own ears.

“Yes.” Then she seemed to realize what she’d revealed.

Their kiss was better than he remembered, even better than his imagination. Her lips were tender and hot. She tasted sweet. And when he probed with his tongue, she answered in kind, tipping her head and leaning against him.

Her body was soft and warm, her curves smooth against his angles. He wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her while the kiss went on. Arousal throbbed deep and hard within him, and his mind galloped ahead to an image of a large bed, with her naked body wrapped around his.

Why couldn’t it always be like this? Why did they have to fight? She was smart and sassy, and probably the most interesting woman he’d ever met. She was certainly the most exciting.

And then reality slammed into him.

They did have to fight. And no amount of wishing would change that.

His interests were diametrically opposed to hers. He absolutely couldn’t sleep with her—not with the secret he was keeping right now.

* * *

From Temptation to Twins is part of the Whiskey Bay Brides series: Three sisters find love on the shores of Whiskey Bay.


From Temptation to Twins

Barbara Dunlop






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author BARBARA DUNLOP has written more than forty novels for Mills & Boon, including the acclaimed Chicago Sons series for Mills & Boon Desire. Her sexy, lighthearted stories regularly hit bestseller lists. Barbara is a threetime finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award.


For Mom


Contents

Cover (#u22ebce92-3a86-5b44-9b5d-0ee0fef80813)

Back Cover Text (#ud61324c5-2544-5da7-afa0-65894d5ba587)

Introduction (#u04524360-1578-5dc2-bc5e-7e3c0f630f55)

Title Page (#u339e64c8-689a-5f71-8e9b-72bedb54d7b9)

About the Author (#u8b4cb67c-00c0-548d-84b4-d6edb5a08dcd)

Dedication (#u162c08f8-eb11-5757-bbde-6ea16fec6a3c)

One (#u5a4c870a-333f-5cce-bcd2-b88ba3de327a)

Two (#ufe7c2839-edf9-5696-8c91-3b8df942b02c)

Three (#ufc45e06b-60ea-5bd9-a7a9-80cf9ffc78d6)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#uf6135c92-8cf5-5c4f-86ea-504d8b0d3920)

Here Comes Trouble

The man all but filled the open doorway of the dilapidated Whiskey Bay Crab Shack. His feet were planted apart, his broad shoulders squared and his no-nonsense chin was tipped up in a challenge.

“Is this supposed to be a joke?” he asked, his deep voice booming through the old brick building.

Jules Parker recognized him right away. She’d expected their paths would cross, but she hadn’t expected open hostility—interesting. She hopped down from where she was kneeling on the dusty old bar and stripped off her leather work gloves.

“I don’t know, Caleb,” she answered as she sauntered toward him, tucking the gloves into the back pocket of her faded jeans. “Is there something funny about dismantling shelves?”

He squinted at her. “You’re Juliet Parker?”

“You don’t recognize me?”

He held out a level hand, moving it up and down, judging the distance to the ground. “Last time I saw you, you were—”

“Fifteen years old.”

“Shorter. And you had freckles.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Okay.”

That was nine years ago. Did he think she wouldn’t have changed?

His gray eyes hardened. “What are you doing?”

She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “Like I said, dismantling the bar shelves.”

“I mean, what are you doing here?”

“In Whiskey Bay?” She and her younger sister, Melissa, had arrived yesterday, having planned their return for over a year.

“In the Crab Shack.”

“I own the Crab Shack.” At least, she owned half of the Crab Shack. Melissa was her partner.

He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket, brandishing it in his fist. “You extended the business license.”

“Uh-huh.” The fact clearly upset him, though she wasn’t sure why.

“And you extended the noncompete clause.”

“Uh-huh,” she said again. The noncompete was part of the original license. Everything had been extended.

He took a step forward, all but looming over her, and she was reminded of why she’d had a schoolgirl crush on him. He was all male then, and he was all male now—hot, sexy and incredibly good-looking.

“What is it you want?” he asked in that low, gravelly voice.

She didn’t understand the question, but she wasn’t about to back down. She squared her shoulders. “How do you mean?”

“Are you playing stupid?”

“I’m not playing at anything. What’s your game, Caleb? Because I’ve got work to do here.”

He glared at her for a couple of beats. “Do you want money? Is that it? Are you looking for a payout?”

She took a stab at answering. “The Crab Shack’s not for sale. We’re reopening.”

The Whiskey Bay Crab Shack was her grandfather’s legacy. It was hers and Melissa’s dream, and also her deathbed promise to the grandpa she adored. Her father hated the idea of the family returning to Whiskey Bay, but Jules wasn’t thinking about that today.

Caleb’s gaze covered the room, seeming to dismiss it. “We both know that’s not happening.”

“We do?”

“You’re starting to annoy me, Juliet.”

“It’s Jules. And you’re starting to annoy me, too.” His voice rose in obvious frustration. “Are you telling me it’s not about this?”

She looked to where he was pointing out the window.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“This.” He headed out the door.

Curious, she followed and saw the Whiskey Bay Marina. It looked much as it always had, although the caliber of vessel berthed there had gone up. The pier was lined with sleek, modern yachts. Beyond the marina, in what had always been raw land, there were two semitrailers with a front-end loader and a bulldozer, plus a couple of pickup trucks.

Whatever was being built there likely wouldn’t be as attractive as the natural shoreline, but it was far enough away that it shouldn’t bother their patrons after they reopened. To the south of the Crab Shack, it was all natural vistas. The signature, soaring cliffs of Whiskey Bay were covered in west coast cedars and wax-leafed salal shrubs. Nobody could build on the south side. It was all cliffs and boulders.

Jules made a mental note to focus the views on the south side.

“I don’t think that’s going to bother us too much,” she said.

Caleb’s stunned expression was interrupted by Melissa’s arrival in their mini pickup truck.

“Hello,” Melissa sang out as she exited from the driver’s side, a couple of hardware store bags in her arms and a bright smile on her face.

“Do you remember Caleb Watford?” Jules asked.

“Not really.” Melissa set the bags down on the deck and held out her hand. “I remember the Parkers hate the Watfords.”

Jules knew she shouldn’t smile at her sister’s blunt statement. But the revelation couldn’t come as any surprise to Caleb. The feud between their grandfathers and fathers was well-known. It was the likely reason Caleb was being so obnoxious. He didn’t want the Parkers back in Whiskey Bay. Well, that was too bad.

Caleb accepted Melissa’s hand. “Either you two are the best actors in the world...”

Melissa gave Jules a confused glance.

“Don’t look at me,” Jules said. “I haven’t the slightest idea what he’s talking about. But he’s ticked off about something.”

“You see that?” Caleb pointed again.

Melissa shaded her eyes. “Looks like a bulldozer.”

“It’s my bulldozer.”

“Congratulations...?” Melissa offered hesitantly, her confusion obvious.

“Do you two have any idea what I do?” he asked.

“No,” Jules answered.

She knew the Watfords were rich. They owned one of three mansions set along the cliffs of Whiskey Bay. Besides the mansion, the only other house on the bay was the Parkers’. It was just a regular little old house. Her grandfather had lived there for nearly seventy years before he’d passed away.

“Do you drive a bulldozer?” Melissa asked.

“Seriously?” Jules asked her sister, finding it impossible to imagine Caleb as a heavy equipment operator. “The Watfords are mega wealthy.”

“He could still drive a bulldozer,” Melissa said. “Maybe he likes driving a bulldozer.”

“Rich guys don’t drive bulldozers.”

Jules pictured Caleb behind a big desk in an opulent office. No, that wasn’t quite right. Presiding over a construction site, maybe? He could be an architect.

“Have you ever seen Construction Vacation?” Melissa asked.

“The TV show?”

“Yeah. All kinds of guys, rich, poor, whatever. They come on the show and play with heavy equipment. They like it. It’s a thing.”

“Well, maybe on a lark—”

“Stop!” Caleb all but shouted.

Melissa drew back, clearly shocked.

“He’s been like this ever since he showed up,” Jules said.

“Like a bear with a hangnail,” Melissa muttered.

“I don’t think that’s a metaphor,” Jules said. “Bears have claws.”

Caleb was glancing back and forth between them. His skin tone seemed to have gone a little darker. Jules decided it might be good to let him speak.

“I own and manage the Neo chain of seafood restaurants. That—” he stabbed his finger in the direction of the bulldozer “—will be the newest location.”

Both women looked along the shore, and Jules realized why Caleb was so annoyed.

“Oh,” Melissa said, pausing for a short beat. “Except you can’t build it now because of the noncompete clause in our business license.”

“It was supposed to expire on Wednesday,” he said.

“I saw that when we renewed.”

“Now I get it,” Jules said to him. “I can see why you’d be disappointed.”

* * *

“Disappointed?” Caleb caught the beer Matt Emerson tossed him from the wet bar at opposite side of the marina’s sundeck. “I’m a million dollars into the project, and she thinks I’m disappointed?”

“You’re not?” TJ Bauer asked evenly as he popped the top of his own beer.

The three men were on the deck that sat atop the Whiskey Bay Marina office building. A quarter moon rose in the starlit sky, while the lights of the pier reflected off the foamy water eddying between the white yachts.

Caleb shot TJ a glower.

“Do you think this is about your dad?” Matt asked.

“Or your grandfather,” TJ added, bracing his butt against the rail. “This could be your chickens coming home to roost.”

“They’re not my chickens,” Caleb said.

“Does she know that?” Matt asked.

Caleb couldn’t believe Jules was capable of executing such a nefarious revenge plan.

“Are you suggesting she figured out that I was planning to build a Neo location at Whiskey Bay, waited until the last possible moment, the fortieth anniversary of their grandfather’s business license, to extend the noncompete clause and shut down my project so I’d lose a fortune, in retaliation for the actions of my father and grandfather?”

“It would earn her a significant score on the evil-genius meter,” TJ said.

“Your ancestors were pretty evil to her ancestors,” Matt said.

Caleb didn’t disagree with that. His grandfather had stolen away the woman Felix Parker loved, while his father had ruined Roland Parker’s best chance at a college education.

There wasn’t a lot about either man that made Caleb proud. “I didn’t do a thing to the Parkers.”

“Did you mention that to Jules?” Matt asked.

“She’s sticking to her story—that she had no idea I wanted to build a restaurant of my own.”

“Maybe she didn’t,” TJ said. “You know, this wouldn’t be the worst time in the world to take on investors.”

“This would absolutely be the worst time in the world to take on investors.” Caleb had heard the pitch from TJ before.

“One phone call to my clients, Caleb. And seventeen Neo locations across the US could become forty Neo locations around the world. A million-dollar loss here would be insignificant.”

“Read my lips,” Caleb said. “I’m not interested.”

TJ shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Then call her bluff,” Matt said, crossing the deck and dropping into one of the padded chairs surrounding a gas fire pit.

“She’s not bluffing,” Caleb pointed out. “She already extended the noncompete clause.”

“I mean pretend you believe her. That she’s only after her own business interests, and this isn’t some warped revenge against your family. See if she’ll be reasonable about coexisting.”

TJ moved to another of the chairs. “I see where he’s going. Explain to her how Neo and the Crab Shack can both succeed. If she’s not out to harm you, then she should be willing to discuss it.”

“They serve different market niches.” Caleb sat down, thinking there might be merit to the strategy. “And where they overlap, one could be a draw for the other.”

“Cross-promotion,” TJ said.

“I’d be willing to push some customers her way.”

“Maybe don’t make yourself sound so arrogant,” Matt said. “I don’t think women like that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the big expert on women?” TJ asked Caleb.

“Jules isn’t a woman,” Caleb said. But even as he spoke, he envisioned her sparkling blue eyes, her billowy wheat-blond hair and her full red lips. Jules was all woman, and that just made things more complicated.

“I mean,” he continued. “She’s not a woman in the way you’re thinking about women. Not that she’s not good-looking, she is. Anybody would tell you that. But that’s irrelevant. It’s irrelevant to the situation. I’m not trying to date her. I’m trying to do business with her.”

“Uh-oh,” Matt said to TJ.

“That’s trouble,” TJ said to Matt.

“It’s not like that,” Caleb said. “The last time I saw her she was fifteen.”

TJ grinned. “And that was a logical comeback to what?”

“She was a kid. She was my neighbor. And now she’s a thorn in my side. This has nothing to do with, you know, our recent discussions about the two of you getting back into the dating pool. How’s that going, by the way?”

Both men grinned at him. “You think we’re going to let you change the subject that easily?”

“Either of you dating?” Caleb asked. “Are you? Because I had a date last weekend.”

Matt had just made it through a bitter divorce, and TJ had just passed the two-year anniversary of his wife’s death. Both had committed to living Caleb’s bachelor lifestyle for the next year. And Caleb had committed to helping them achieve it.

“Hey, Matt?” came a female voice from below on the pier.

“Speaking of women...” TJ said, interest perking up in his voice.

“Speaking of not women.” Matt muttered under his breath as he rose to his feet.

“Who is she?” TJ asked, standing to look over the rail.

“My mechanic.” Matt raised his voice. “Hi, Tasha. What’s going on?”

“I don’t like the sound of MK’s backup engine. Can I have a day to tear it down?”

Through the rails, Caleb could see a slender woman in a T-shirt and cargo pants. She wore a pair of leather work boots. And she had a ponytail sticking out of the back of her tattered baseball cap.

“It’s booked out starting Sunday.”

“That gives me all day tomorrow,” Tasha called back. “Perfect. I’ll make sure she’s ready.”

“Thanks, Tasha.”

“That’s your mechanic?” TJ asked as he watched the young woman walk away.

“You want to date my mechanic?” Matt asked.

“She’s pretty cute.”

Matt laughed. “She’s tough as nails. I wouldn’t recommend her as a starting point.”

“You calling dibs?”

“Fill your boots, brother. She’ll eat you for lunch.”

Caleb couldn’t help but grin. “Should we go into the city and hit a club tomorrow night?”

Whiskey Bay was less than two hours from the nightlife of Olympia and it sounded like TJ and Matt could use a little push into the social scene. Caleb would be more than happy to forget his own problems for an evening.

“I’m in,” said Matt.

“Sounds great,” said TJ.

Caleb finished his beer. “In that case, I’m going home to strategize.” He rose. “I like your idea to test Jules’s sincerity. I’ll do it in the morning.”

“Good luck,” Matt called.

Caleb took the stairs to the pier then left the lights of the marina behind him on the walk home.

Whiskey Bay was characterized by stunning steep cliffs. There was very little land at sea level, just an acre or so under the marina and another parcel of a similar size where Caleb intended to build Neo. The Crab Shack was located on a rocky spit of land to the south of the marina. It had been closed now for more than ten years, since Felix Parker had grown too old to run it.

Four houses sat on the steep rise of the cliff. Matt’s was directly above the marina. TJ’s was a few hundred yards to the south, then came the Parkers’ small house, with Caleb’s house last.

Back in the ’50s, his grandfather had built a small place similar to the Parkers’. But while the Parker place had remained intact, the Watfords had rebuilt numerous times. After his grandfather’s death Caleb had bought the house from the rest of the family, gradually renovating it to make it his own.

There was a path halfway up the cliff that connected the four houses. Caleb, Matt and TJ had installed solar lights a few years back, so walking after dark was easy. Caleb had passed below the Parker house thousands of times. But in the five years since Felix Parker had moved to a care home, there’d never been a light on there.

Tonight, it was lit. Caleb could see it in the distance, filtered by the spreading branches of cedar trees. As he grew closer, the deck came into view, and he had a sudden memory of a teenage Jules. It had to have been her last summer visiting her grandfather. She’d been dancing on the deck. Dressed in cutoff shorts and a striped tank top, her hair up in a messy knot, she was dancing like nobody was watching.

He could see her freckles. That’s how he’d remembered she’d had freckles. The sunlight had glowed against her blond hair and her creamy skin. She’d been far too beautiful, and far too young. He’d felt guilty for even looking at her back then. He’d been twenty-one, building his first Neo restaurant in San Francisco.

“Spying on us?” Jules suddenly appeared on the trail in front of him.

“On my way home,” he answered, quickly pulling himself back to the present.

She wasn’t wearing cutoffs, and no tight striped tank top either. Thank goodness. Although her blue jeans and cropped white T-shirt weren’t exactly saving his sanity. In fact, it was worse, because she was all grown up now.

“You’re standing still,” she pointed out.

He went with a partial truth. “I’m not used to seeing lights on in your house.”

She glanced up at the deck. “I guess it’s been a while.”

“Quite a few years.” He gazed at her profile. She was quite astonishingly gorgeous. He couldn’t remember ever meeting a woman so beautiful.

“Did you know your family sent flowers?” she asked. “When my grandfather died.”

“I did.” It had been Caleb who’d arranged it.

“Sent my dad off the deep end, I tell you.”

Caleb felt a twinge of regret. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

She turned to look at him again. “So it was you?”

“Was that a test?”

“I was curious. It didn’t make sense that your dad would have sent them.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Caleb’s father had once been arrested because of an altercation with Jules’s father, Roland. Caleb had never heard all the details, but his father had often railed about the overreaction of the authorities, and how it was Felix Parker’s fault they were called in the first place.

“He might have sent a brass band,” Jules mused.

“I don’t know what to say to that.” Caleb wondered if she was looking for an apology.

“It was a joke.”

“Okay. It seemed a little...”

“Inappropriate? To acknowledge your father might have wished my grandfather dead?” She shrugged her slim shoulders. “We can pretend if you want.”

“I meant to joke about your grandfather’s death at all.”

“He was ninety. He wouldn’t mind. In fact, I think he’d like it. You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” She tipped her head to one side.

Heck, yes, he was still mad at her. But he was also massively attracted to her. Gazing at her in the dim glow of the trail light, anger was a pretty difficult emotion to dredge up.

“We can pretend I’m not,” he said.

She smiled, and his chest contracted. “You do have a sense of humor.”

He didn’t smile back. He hadn’t been joking. He was perfectly prepared to pretend he wasn’t angry with her.

She stepped unexpectedly closer. “I used to have such a crush on you.”

He stopped breathing.

“I have no idea why,” she continued. “I barely knew you. Only from afar. But you were older, and it was summer, and I was nearly sixteen. And I’m sure it didn’t hurt that our families were feuding. Nothing like the Montagues and the Capulets, or the Jets and the Sharks, to get a young girl’s heart going. It’s kind of funny now that you—” She blinked at him. “Caleb?”

He couldn’t kiss her. He couldn’t. He could not...

“Caleb?”

There was no way she was doing this by accident. She had to guess what it would do to him, to any mortal man. She truly was an evil genius.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” he managed to force out, annoyance in his tone.

She searched his expression. “What am I doing?”

The woman deserved an acting award.

“Putting me off balance,” he said. “Dancing around on your balcony, tight shorts, tight shirt—”

“What? Dancing where?”

“You’re twenty-four years old.”

“I know that.”

“You’re standing out here in the woods, alone, telling a grown man that you once had a crush on him.”

Her expression fell, and she took a step back. “I thought it was a sweet story.”

His voice came out strangled. “Sweet?”

“Okay, and a little embarrassing. I wanted to open up. I was trying to get you to like me.”

He closed his eyes for a long moment. He couldn’t let himself believe that. He couldn’t let her get under his skin. He didn’t know what to do with this, what to do with her, how to put her in any kind of context. “I’m not going to like you.”

“But—”

“You should go.”

“Go?” She actually sounded hurt.

“I think we’re on two completely different wavelengths.”

She didn’t answer. The woods around him fell silent.

He opened his eyes to find her gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then the relief turned into regret as he second-guessed himself. He could usually read the signs with women—tell the difference between flirting and an innocent conversation. With Jules, he couldn’t.

* * *

“You told him you’d had a crush on him?” Melissa asked from the bottom of the stepladder the next day.

Jules removed the next in a cluster of ’50s movie star portraits that hung on a wall of the restaurant. “I was trying to... I don’t know.” She’d had more than a few hours to regret her words.

“Did you not think it would sound flirty?”

Jules handed the portrait of Grace Kelly down to Melissa and reached for Elizabeth Taylor. “I didn’t mean for it to be flirty.”

“It was flirty.”

“I realize that now.”

“What were you thinking then?”

“That it would be charming. I was being open and honest, sharing a slightly embarrassing story. I thought it might make me seem human.”

“He knows you’re human.”

“In the end it was just humiliating.” Jules handed down the Elizabeth Taylor.

“So, you learned something.” Melissa crossed the room to set the portraits in a cardboard box on the bar.

“I learned that he has zero interest in flirting with me.”

“I was thinking maybe a broader point about relationships, time and place, and appropriate comments.”

Jules climbed down and moved the ladder, settling it into place where she could read the next three portraits. “Oh, that. No.”

Melissa grinned. “Tell me more about the crush. I wish you’d told me about it back then.”

“You were too young.”

“It still would have been exciting.”

It had certainly been exciting for Jules. “I was fifteen. He was tall, and he shaved, and he lived in a mansion on the hill. And I was fresh out of grade nine English class. Between the Brontë sisters and Shakespeare, I spun a pretty interesting fantasy.”

“I don’t even remember him from back then.”

“That’s because you were only twelve.”

“What I remember most is Grandma’s hot chocolate. It was so nice, coming here, spending time with her, especially after Mom died.”

“I miss them both.”

Melissa gave Jules’s arm a squeeze. “Me, too. But I don’t miss the squirrels waking us up in the morning.”

Jules handed Audrey Hepburn to Melissa. “I hated those squirrels.”

“You really should have thought of that before we moved back here. They’re going to wake us up every morning.”

“Do you think we could livetrap them, relocate them like they do with bears?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Jules thought about it for a moment as she handed down Jayne Mansfield. “I wonder what we’d need for bait.”

“Going fishing?” The sound of Caleb’s voice startled her, and she swayed, grabbing the top of the ladder to steady herself.

“Whoa.” Caleb surged toward her.

“Steady girl,” Melissa said.

“I’m fine.” Jules regained her balance.

She focused on his forehead instead of meeting his eyes. She’d pretend nothing awkward had happened last night. Hopefully, he’d play along and they could both ignore it.

“Should you be up on that ladder?” he asked.

“I was fine until you scared me.” Jules turned back to her work and reached for Doris Day.

“You were talking about fishing?”

“We were?” Jules couldn’t figure out why he thought that.

“You said we needed bait,” Melissa put in.

“Matt can take you fishing,” Caleb said. He was hovering beside Melissa, looking like he wanted to take over the operation. “Do you need a hand with that?”

“Why are you suddenly being nice?” Jules asked as she handed over the next portrait.

She’d prefer it if they were cordial to each other. But after their argument yesterday and their encounter last night, she’d expected him to avoid her, not to drop by and pretend they were friends.

“I’m not being nice,” he said.

“Who’s Matt?” Melissa asked as she crossed the room with Doris in her hands.

“He owns the marina.” Caleb took over from Melissa and braced both sides of the ladder.

“All those yachts?” Melissa asked.

“He has a charter service.”

“Out of our price range,” Jules put in. She could only imagine the exorbitant cost of renting one of the lavish-looking yachts.

“He won’t charge you.”

Jules took a step lower on the ladder, expecting Caleb to move back and give her room. “We’re not going fishing.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Melissa said.

“I can set it up.” Caleb didn’t move.

Jules turned before she took another step down. Deciding she’d prefer to face him while edging into his space.

“We’re far too busy to fish,” she said, meeting him at eye level.

“Exactly how long would we need for a trip like that?” Melissa asked.

“How are you not suspicious of this?” Jules spoke to Melissa but kept her gaze locked on Caleb. “An enemy bearing gifts?”

“I’m not your enemy.” Caleb’s deep voice seemed to rumble through her. There was a challenge in his gray eyes. One more step down, and she’d practically be in his arms.

She wasn’t going to be the one to back down. She took the final step. “So why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” She told herself to ignore the sizzle of arousal that skipped across her skin. He was a great-looking guy, and she had some emotional baggage where it came to him. But she could handle it. She could easily handle it.

He drew a deep breath, his broad chest expanding. A few more inches and they would be touching. She wondered how he’d handle that. She should make it happen and find out.

“The contractor’s here,” Melissa said, as a vehicle engine sounded outside in the parking lot.

“You need me?” Jules made to move, thinking she’d probably just been saved from...something with Caleb.

“Nope. I’ll just show him around,” Melissa said and headed for the door.

“We don’t need to be competitors.” Caleb firmed his stance as he spoke to Jules.

“We’re not competitors.” She wondered how long he intended to keep her trapped. She eased slightly forward to test his boundaries. “I have a noncompete agreement, so you can’t build Neo.”

Caleb leaned in himself, as if he could read her thoughts. “Neo’s not your competition.”

“I know it’s not. Because it doesn’t exist.”

“I mean, if it did exist. We’d cater to a different clientele.”

“The Crab Shack caters to seafood eaters. What does Neo do?”

“Neo’s high-end. The Crab Shack is casual.”

“What makes you say that?”

He seemed surprised by her words. He glanced around the building, taking in the aging brick, the torn linoleum and the rustic wood beams. “It’s humble, basic, kitschy. Don’t get me wrong—”

“How could I take that wrong?” She crossed her arms, and her elbows touched his chest. She tipped her head, recapturing his gaze and letting her annoyance tighten her expression.

“If you were to go high-end,” he said.

She waited. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t backed off yet.

Instead, he increased the connection between them, his chest pressing along the length of her forearms. It was a firm chest, a sexy chest and an amazing chest. For a second, she lost her train of thought.

“If you were to go high-end,” he said. “We’d be complementary. We could feed customers to each other. You’ve seen it, a restaurant district or an auto mall. We could become a seafood restaurant cluster—the place to go in greater Olympia for terrific seafood.”

“That’s pretty good.”

“So you’re interested?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a pretty good argument, Caleb. It’s not true, but A for ingenuity.”

Something flashed in his eyes. It was either admiration or annoyance, maybe a bit of both. “There are examples of it all over the world.”

“Neo’s a nationally known and renowned chain. You’d annihilate the Crab Shack.”

Melissa’s and the contractor’s voices were muffled as they talked outside on the deck.

“You’re not going to agree to this, are you?” Caleb asked.

“No.”

“We’re not going to be friendly?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Okay.” He nodded. He let go of the ladder and rocked back, breaking their contact. “I guess I’ll go back to my corner and come out swinging.”

She wasn’t disappointed, she told herself. And she definitely didn’t miss his touch.

“But first,” he said, surprising her by reaching back to cup her cheek with his palm. “Since I probably can’t make the situation much worse...”

His intent was clear. She told herself to say no, to turn her head, to step sideways. There was nothing stopping her. She was free to move and shut this down.

But she didn’t. Instead, she surrendered to nine years of fantasy and parted her lips as he closed the space between them.


Two (#uf6135c92-8cf5-5c4f-86ea-504d8b0d3920)

Before his lips even touched Jules’s, Caleb knew he was making a huge mistake. He also knew he didn’t care.

He’d lain awake half the night thinking about her, picturing her on the trail outside her house, reliving her saying she’d had a crush on him. He should have kissed her right then. Any other man would have kissed her right then.

Now her cheek was soft against his palm, warm and smooth. He edged his fingers into her silky hair, and his lips finally covered hers. He kept the kiss soft. He wanted to devour her, but he didn’t want to scare her, and he sure didn’t want her to push him away.

Her lips softened. They parted. He firmed his grip, anchoring her mouth to his, while his free hand went around her waist. Desire pulsed through his body, arousal awakening his senses. He gave in to temptation and touched his tongue to hers.

She moaned, and his arm wound around her, bringing their bodies flush together. He deepened the kiss, bending her slightly backward. His body temperature rose, and he could feel the pulse of the ocean, or maybe it was the beat of his heart.

Melissa’s voice penetrated from outside, saying something about the roof. Her footsteps sounded on the deck. A man’s voice rose in response to her question.

Jules’s hands went to Caleb’s shoulders, and she gave the slightest push.

He reacted immediately, pulling back, her flushed cheeks coming into focus, along with her swollen lips and glazed blue eyes.

He wanted it again. He wanted more. He absolutely did not want to stop.

“I’ve made it worse,” he said, half to himself.

“We can’t do that,” she said, obviously voicing her own train of thought.

“No kidding.”

“I can’t trust you.”

“You could have said no.” This wasn’t all on him.

Her smile looked self-conscious. “I know. I’m talking about more than just the kiss.”

“Tell me why?” He didn’t know why he cared, but he did.

“Why I can’t trust you?”

“Yes.”

She thought about it for a moment. “I can’t trust you, because I can’t trust you.”

He wasn’t buying it. “That’s a circular argument. You’re too smart for that.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing back against the ladder. “I can’t trust you because you’re a Watford.”

He knew he should walk away, but his feet stayed stubbornly still. “You barely know me.”

“I know your family.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I know you want me to compromise my interests.”

“Not really,” he said.

She cocked her head and sent him a frown of disbelief.

“Only a little bit,” he amended. “But it’ll work in the long run. I know it’ll work in the long run. For both of us.”

“Are you lying to yourself or just to me?”

“I’m not lying.”

“You definitely inherited it,” she said, apparently growing tired of waiting for him to back off. She slipped sideways, putting some distance between them.

“Inherited what?” He watched her go with regret.

“The gift of persuasion. Just like your father and grandfather, you’re confident in your ability to talk your way out of or into anything.”

Caleb wasn’t like his father or his grandfather. At least he didn’t want to be like them. He tried very hard to mitigate his father’s character traits in himself. For the most part, he thought he succeeded.

“That’s not fair,” he said.

“Fair?” She gave a light laugh. “A Watford talking about fair? Let me add to that. A Watford talking about fair while he tries to talk a Parker out of something?”

Caleb knew he’d lost this round. There was no way she was going to listen to reason. At least not right now. The kiss had been a colossal error.

Then again, it was a fantastic kiss. He couldn’t bring himself to regret it. If that kiss was the biggest mistake he made today, it was going to be a good day.

“No comeback?” she asked. “Come on, Caleb. You’re disappointing me.”

“Is there anything I can say to change your opinion?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then is there any chance you’ll go out with me?”

The question seemed to take her aback, and it took her a second to respond. “You mean like on a date?”

“Yeah. You and me. Dinner, dancing, whatever.” He wasn’t exactly sure how they’d separate their personal attraction from their business interests, but he was more than willing to give it a try.

“Is that a joke? Are you trying to put me off balance?”

“Yes, I’m trying to put you off balance.” He took a couple of steps toward her. “But no, it’s not a joke. There’s obviously an attraction between us.”

“We have nothing in common.”

“I like kissing you.” And he was pretty confident that she liked kissing him.

Her expression didn’t soften at all. “I bet you like kissing a whole lot of women.”

Not as much as he liked kissing her. But the accusation was fundamentally true. And he didn’t want to lie to her. “I suppose I do.”

“Then take one of them out on a date.”

“I’d rather take you.”

“You’re too much.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“Give the man a gold star.”

The answer surprised him. “You admit to being stubborn?”

“Oh, yes.” She jabbed her finger against his chest. “And you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

He trapped her hand, holding it against his heart. “Fightin’ words?”

“You said it yourself. We’re both going back to our corners now to come out swinging.”

Her eyes were alight, her cheeks still flushed, her lips were still swollen from his kisses, and he could see a little pulse at the base of her neck. She was the sexiest woman on the planet.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, snatching her hand from his grip.

He couldn’t help but grin. “I’m not going to kiss you again.”

“You better not.”

“I’ll make you a deal.”

She shook her head.

“Not a business deal. A personal deal. Next time, you have to be the one to kiss me.” Even as he said the words, he feared he was making a mistake.

She might never decide to kiss him. But he had no choice. He couldn’t take the chance of misreading her signals.

Melissa bounced through the doorway, enthusiasm in her expression and in her tone. “Jules, this is Noah Glover. He’s offered to help us with the renovation.”

Jules expression immediately neutralized, erasing their kiss, their argument and everything else. Noah Glover had walked in, and she’d given him a brilliant smile that made Caleb jealous.

Noah was tall and brawny, with an unshaven face and a shaggy haircut. He looked like the kind of guy who worked all day out in the weather.

Jules smoothly closed the space between them. “Nice to meet you, Noah.”

They shook, and Caleb felt another shot of jealousy. He gave himself a ruthless shake. It was one thing to want to kiss her, even hold her, even strip her naked and make love to her—which he did. But it was something else altogether to be jealous of a man shaking her hand. He wasn’t about to let that happen.

“I hope Melissa warned you we’re on a tight budget,” Jules said to Noah. “We want to do as much of the work as we can ourselves.”

“I can work with a budget,” Noah said. “And as much work as you’re willing to do is fine with me.”

“That sounds perfect.” She was still shaking his hand.

That was it? The entire interview? They were going to hire the guy right here and now? What about reference checks?

Caleb stepped up and stuck out his own hand. “Caleb Watford. I’m a neighbor.” He wanted this Noah guy to know he couldn’t simply stride in and take advantage of Jules and Melissa.

“Nice to meet you,” Noah said.

His grip was firm. Of course his grip was firm. He was a carpenter. But Caleb was no slouch. From what he could see, they were about the same height. Caleb could bench press one-eighty, but Noah had a lot more calluses.

“And our sworn enemy,” Jules said.

Caleb slid her a look of annoyance. Did she have no idea that he was trying to help?

“What happened while I was gone?” Melissa asked, glancing from one to the other.

“Nothing,” Jules said quickly. “Well, more of the same.”

“I’m happy to get started tomorrow,” Noah said to the women. “If you pull together your budget, I’ll get going on some estimates, and we can see what we have for options.”

His voice was deep. Caleb wasn’t crazy to learn that. He’d heard women liked men with deep voices. It was supposed to instill a sense of confidence. He didn’t want Jules feeling overconfident with this stranger.

Caleb had never heard of Noah Glover. Was he local to the Whiskey Bay area? Was he passing through? His truck outside was old and battered, and he wasn’t exactly a poster child for professionalism. Caleb was definitely going to check him out.

“I’m up for that,” Melissa said. “I’m excited to get started.”

Noah gave her a nod. “Until tomorrow, then.” He gave a parting smile to Jules before he left the building.

“He really seems to know what he’s doing,” Melissa said as she watched him leave.

“You just met him,” Caleb said.

Both women looked at him in surprise.

“How can you judge his competency?” Caleb doubted either Jules or Melissa had any expertise in construction.

“He seemed open and straightforward,” Melissa said. “Talked in plain language. He came highly recommended.”

“Did you check his reviews?” Caleb asked.

“Melissa has a business degree,” Jules said.

That was news to Caleb. He didn’t know why it surprised him.

“Of course I checked his reviews,” Melissa said. “I am aware of the internet.”

Caleb wasn’t sure whether to backpedal or press forward. “I only meant...”

Jules’s voice turned to a sarcastic purr. “That sweet li’l young things like us might not know how to manage in the big bad world?”

He frowned at her. “I wondered why you’d trust him in a heartbeat and be so suspicious of me.”

“Experience and good judgment,” she said.

“That’s not fair.”

“I told you before, Caleb. You’re a Watford. There isn’t a reason in the world for me to be fair to you.”

* * *

“He really is hot,” Melissa said two days later.

Jules looked up from where she was stripping varnish from the wooden bar, expecting to see Caleb walk through the door. But he wasn’t there. At least, she couldn’t see him.

Melissa was pulling down the window trim, while Noah was outside setting up a survey level on a tripod.

Jules was momentarily confused and, she hated to admit, a little disappointed. Caleb might be annoying, but he was also interesting. He energized a room.

“You mean Noah?” she asked her sister.

“Who else would I mean? Look at those shoulders and those biceps.”

“He does seem to be in good shape,” Jules agreed.

She hadn’t thought of Noah as particularly hot, although she supposed he was fairly good-looking in a rugged, earthy kind of way. He was dressed in a khaki green T-shirt and a pair of tan cargo pants. A tool belt was slung low on his hips, and his steel-toed boots were scuffed and worn. He had sandy-blond hair, thick and a little shaggy.

“I can’t stop staring at him,” Melissa said.

“I wouldn’t have pegged him as your type.”

The men Melissa had dated in college had been mostly preppy intellectuals, sometimes even poets. Occasionally, she’d talked about seeing an athlete. There was one basketball player she’d stayed with for a couple of months.

“Hot and sexy? Whose type is that not?”

Jules smiled, taking another look at Noah through her safety glasses. “So you mean as eye candy.”

Personally, she found him a bit dusty for eye candy. But if Melissa found him entertaining while she took on the drudge work of renovating, Jules was happy for her.

“Don’t let him slow you down,” Jules said.

“I can look and rip trim at the same time.”

“Make sure you don’t stab yourself with a nail.”

“They’re finishing nails, teeny-tiny finishing nails. Do you think if it gets hot enough he’ll consider taking off his shirt?”

“I think if you ask him we get sued. Sexual harassment goes both ways, you know.”

“I won’t ask him, at least, not flat out.”

“You can’t ask him at all. You can’t even hint.”

“I can hope.”

“I suppose there’s no such thing as the mind police,” Jules said.

Melissa grinned. “That’s a good thing. Because what I’m imagining is probably illegal in most states.”

“Please don’t tell me.”

“You’re such a prude.”

Jules scrunched her eyes shut, not allowing any untoward mental pictures to form. “Pink fuzzy bunnies. Pink fuzzy bunnies,” she chanted out loud, bringing the harmless image into her mind.

Melissa laughed at her antics.

“I obviously missed something.” This time it was Caleb.

Jules popped open her eyes to find him standing in the doorway again.

Talk about hot and sexy. He wore blue jeans, an open-collar white shirt and a midnight blue blazer. He looked casual and classy all at the same time, putting the rest of the male world to shame.

“Pink fuzzy bunnies?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Inside joke,” Melissa said. “It’s our mantra to keep nasty images at bay.”

Caleb glanced around. “Is there something nasty?”

“Not at all,” Melissa said, her blue eyes flashing mischief before she looked out the window again.

Jules told herself to stop ogling Caleb. “Can we help you with something?”

“I’ve been doing some research on your project,” he said as he stepped inside.

She adjusted her gloves and went determinedly back to working on the varnish removal with a paint scraper. “You’re just the Energizer Bunny, aren’t you?”

He kept moving toward her. “You’ve obviously got a rabbit theme going here.”

“Stay back,” she warned. “This stuff is dangerous.”

He stopped but frowned. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.” She dug the blade into the tacky solution and scraped it off in a layer.

“Have you done this before?”

“I watched a YouTube video.” She wiped away the goo with a rag and started on another strip.

“So, your answer is no.”

“My answer is ‘it’s none of your business.’”

He seemed to find her response amusing. “You’re very prickly.”

“And you’re a cocklebur.”

“A what?”

“A prickly plant. Something that digs in and sticks to you and won’t let go.”

“Oh. Okay, my mind went to a completely different place with that.”

Jules struggled not to smile. She didn’t want to encourage him. Or maybe she did. She didn’t like that he felt so free to interfere in her life, but she’d admit he was at least as entertaining for her as Noah was for Melissa.

A low clatter sounded from the window where Melissa was working. She swore.

Jules quickly glanced up. “You okay?”

Caleb was there before Melissa could answer, removing an L-shaped piece of window trim from her hands and untangling another piece from around her feet. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Melissa said. “I just got distracted for a minute.”

“Where are you putting all this?” Caleb asked.

“There’s a disposal bin in the parking lot.”

Caleb spotted a pair of work gloves in a box by the door. He helped himself and gathered up a full armload of discarded trim.

“You’re not dressed for work,” Jules felt the need to point out to him.

“Not exactly,” he agreed. “But I might as well help a bit while we talk.”

“We’re not done talking?”

He didn’t answer, just shook his head as he left through the door.

“You’re as bad as me,” Melissa said.

Jules realized she was watching Caleb’s backside as he walked away. “Is it that obvious?”

“It is when you start drooling.”

“You’re such a comedian. I’m trying to figure out what he’s doing here.”

“That’s not what your expression says. But, okay, let’s go with that. What do you suppose he’s doing here?”

“He said he’d done some research on our project.”

“What does that mean?” Melissa asked.

“I’m assuming more on why we should remove the noncompete clause.”

“That seems likely. He’s coming back.”

“I see that.”

Caleb gave Noah a curt nod of acknowledgment as he approached the restaurant doorway.

Jules found the view of him equally pleasant from the front. She didn’t have to like him to admire the breadth of his shoulders, the swing of his stride, and the square chin and neatly trimmed dark hair that made him look capable of taking on...well, anything, including her.

A wave of heat passed through her body and sweat tickled her forehead. She swiped awkwardly at her hairline with her bare forearm as he walked back inside.

He looked around the open space. “What else needs doing?”

“Your work is done,” Jules said.

He might be pleasant to watch, but she was coming to the conclusion that it might be dangerous for her to spend much time around him.

He removed his jacket and set it aside, rolling up his sleeves.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she said. “You’re going to ruin that shirt.”

He shrugged. “I have other shirts.”

“It’s white.”

He glanced down at himself. “So it is.”

“Say whatever it is you came to say, and get out of here. Go back to your regularly scheduled life.”

He put a mock expression of hurt on his face. “I don’t know how to take that.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve got your own construction project to worry about.”

“That’s the thing.”

“Here we go...” She lined up to scrape off another strip of varnish.

“I want to show you some of the numbers from my other Neo locations.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him look into their small toolbox. “Showing off your profits?” she asked.

He ignored her gibe. “And the plans for the new location.” He selected a claw hammer. “What’s your seating going to be here?”

“None of your business.”

“Jules.” There was exaggerated patience in his tone. “We’re not going to be able to work this out if you’re going to be hostile.”

Melissa spoke up. “Thirty-four at the tables, twelve at the bar and another eighteen on the deck.”

Jules glared at her.

“What?” Melissa asked. “It’s not exactly a state secret. All he has to do is pull a copy of the business license.”

“Neo will have one-seventy-two on two floors, plus fifty seasonally on the patio. We’re not your competition.” He approached the window opposite Melissa and wedged the hammer under the trim.

“I agree with that,” Jules said. “It would be no contest at all.”

“Why would anyone choose the Crab Shack?” Melissa asked.

“They wouldn’t,” Jules said.

“Because they love seafood. And because nobody wants to eat at the same place all the time. And because if they came to Neo, they’d see the Crab Shack and maybe become curious.”

“Or maybe they’d come to the Crab Shack and learn about Neo.” Jules didn’t know why she tossed that out. It sounded ridiculous even to her.

“Sure,” Caleb said.

“Don’t patronize me. We both know that’s not going to happen. What you’re offering us is your leftovers.”

“Neo is a nationally recognized chain with international awards and a substantial marketing program. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“Fancy it up all you want, but the result will be the same. Neo wins, the Crab Shack loses. We’re far better off being the only option at Whiskey Bay.”

“Can I at least show you my floor plans?”

“Sure,” Melissa said.

“Melissa.”

“What’s the harm in looking, Jules? Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

Jules was, but there was no way she’d admit it. “Go ahead and look if you want. I’m not interested.”

“I’ll bring them by later on,” Caleb said as he ripped down a long strip of window trim.

“He is not changing our minds.” Jules put complete conviction into her tone, even as she struggled to drag her gaze from Caleb.

* * *

Due to the curve of the shoreline, Caleb could see the Neo construction site through the window of his great room. He could also see the Crab Shack, where lights were on tonight. And he could see the Parkers’ house—all dark there.

“Jules wouldn’t even look at the plans,” he said turning back to his lawyer, Bernard Stackhouse.

“What did you expect?” Bernard asked in an even tone.

“I thought she might look. I hoped she’d look. I hoped she’d see reason and stop being so stubborn.”

“And then do things your way?”

Bernard was sitting in one of Caleb’s leather armchairs. His suit was impeccable as always, and he looked distinguished with a touch of gray at his temples. He could flare into passion in a courtroom when the need arose, but Caleb knew it was an act. He wasn’t sure Bernard even felt emotions. But the man wasn’t shy about using sarcasm.

“I absolutely want her to do things my way.”

His way was the closest they could get to a win-win. But Jules wouldn’t take that. She wouldn’t even consider it. She insisted on going for a win-lose.

“Her sister, Melissa, seems a whole lot more reasonable,” he said.

“Can she change Jules’s mind?”

“I’m not sure she’s trying. But she did like my restaurant plans.” Caleb’s gaze was drawn back to the still, silent darkness of his construction site.

He could picture the finished building in his mind, the exterior, the interior, all the people they’d employ and the happy diners enjoying the picturesque waterfront. He was growing more and more impatient to get there. Every day he had to wait he couldn’t help calculating the cost: the leased equipment, the crew on standby, the delay in opening that was going to cost him money. If this had to end in a win-lose, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t him on the crappy end of the deal.

“I did find an interesting new option,” Bernard said.

Caleb turned. “And you’re just speaking up now?”

“I thought you wanted to vent.”

“I did want to vent. But I want a solution a whole lot more.”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Bernard asked.

“Exactly what kind of an option is it?” Was it so shocking that Caleb couldn’t be trusted to keep his feet?

“My neck’s getting sore from looking up at you. Sit down.”

Caleb thought better on his feet. But he was curious enough to go along. He perched on the arm of the sofa.

“You look like a coiled spring,” Bernard said.

“You drawing this out won’t make me less coiled.”

“This isn’t a five-second explanation.”

“I hope not, because you’ve already used up two minutes in the preamble.”

Bernard smiled. “You’re a lot like your father.”

“You’re just going to pile it on, aren’t you?”

“There’s an easement,” Bernard said.

Caleb heard the side door to his house swing open. He knew it would either be Matt or TJ.

“In here,” he called out.

“Do you want me to wait until we’re alone?” Bernard asked.

“Why would I want that? Is it a secret option? Is it illegal?”

“Is what illegal?” Matt asked as he strolled into the room.

“Yes,” Bernard drawled. “As your lawyer, I feel it’s my duty to advise you to break the law.”

“That’s a first,” Matt said, taking another armchair. “What are we drinking?”

“I’m considering tequila,” Caleb said.

Matt rose again and headed for the bar.

“Keep talking,” Caleb prompted Bernard.

Bernard exhaled an exaggerated sigh of impatience, like he was the one who’d been kept waiting.

“There’s an easement,” he repeated, producing a map from his briefcase and unfolding it on the coffee table between them. “The access road for the Crab Shack crosses your land.” He pointed. “Right here.”

“You mean TJ’s land.”

“No. All four residential lots were originally a single parcel. TJ’s, Matt’s and the Parkers’ lots were carved out at minimum size, and the remainder stayed with the parcel your grandfather purchased. The effect is a peninsula of land owned by you that runs in front of each of the other properties. Nobody pays attention to it, because it’s mostly the sheer face of a cliff. That is, except for the access road.”

Caleb leaned forward to study the map lines.

Matt returned with three glasses of tequila.

“I thought you’d know I was joking,” Caleb said to Matt. He’d expected Matt to open a few beers.

“Too late now.”

Caleb wasn’t a big tequila fan, but he accepted the glass anyway.

If he was reading the map correctly, where the Crab Shack driveway branched off the access road, it crossed his land for about two hundred yards.

“On one side of the driveway is a cliff,” Bernard said.

Matt crouched on one knee. “And the other is too close to the high water mark. It’s vulnerable to tidal surges if there’s a storm.”

“Is it possible for her to reroute along the shore?” Caleb asked.

“I talked to an engineer,” Bernard said. “In effect, she’d have to build a bridge.”

“They’re on a budget.”

“Then, there’s your answer.”

Matt gave a whistle. “That’s playin’ hardball.”

“I’m losing ten thousand a day in idle equipment rental.”

“So, you’d bankrupt her?”

“I’d use it for leverage.” Caleb straightened to contemplate.

He’d already tried the carrot. Maybe it was time for the stick. He’d show Jules that if they didn’t work together, it would mean mutual assured annihilation. Surely she couldn’t be so stubborn as to choose that option.

Caleb’s front door opened again, and TJ strode in from the hall. “We ready to go?” There was an eagerness in his tone.

The three men had agreed to hit a club in Olympia tonight. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now Caleb was regretting the commitment. He’d rather stay home. He didn’t plan to confront Jules with the threat of canceling her easement tonight, but he wasn’t in the mood for dancing and inconsequential conversation with random women either.

“Is that an ambulance?” TJ asked, gazing out the window.

Caleb turned as he stood, immediately seeing the flashing lights closing in on the Crab Shack.

“That’s not good,” Matt said, rising to his feet.

Caleb was already heading for the door, with Matt and TJ at his heels.

The fastest way to the Crab Shack was along the footpath. Caleb broke into a run. He knew every inch of the pathway, and it took him less than five minutes to get to the peninsula, his mind going over all the possible scenarios where Jules might have been hurt. Had she fallen off the ladder? Had she burned herself with the paint stripper?

Matt stuck with him, with TJ falling a bit behind. Caleb had no idea whether or not Bernard had even bothered to come along. As he ran up the gravel driveway, he could see the paramedics moving a stretcher. He put on a burst of speed.

Then he saw Jules under the lights. She wasn’t the one on the stretcher. He felt an immense surge of relief. But then his fear was back. If it wasn’t Jules, it must be Melissa.

He finally got close enough to call out.

“What happened?” he asked.

Jules looked over at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“We saw the ambulance lights,” he said through the gasps of his breath. “What happened?”

“Nail gun,” Melissa said from the stretcher, her voice sounding strained.

Caleb was relieved to hear her speak. But then her words registered.

“You were using a nail gun?” He moved his attention to Jules. “You have a nail gun?”

“I don’t have a nail gun. Noah has a nail gun.”

“Where’s Noah?” Caleb wanted to have a word with the man. What was he thinking letting Jules and Melissa use a nail gun? Was he crazy?

“It was my fault,” Melissa called from inside the ambulance.

“Are you coming with us?” the paramedic asked Jules.

“Yes.” She moved for the door.

“I’ll meet you there,” Caleb said.

“Why?” she asked as she stepped up to climb inside.

“Just go.”

“Melissa seemed pretty good,” Matt said.

TJ arrived, panting.

“You need to hit the gym,” Matt told him.

“No kidding,” TJ said. “Who got hurt?”

“Melissa,” Caleb said. “Something about a nail gun.”

TJ gave him an incredulous look. “Is it bad?”

“She was talking from the stretcher. But I’m going to head down to Memorial and find out what happened.”

“You are?” TJ seemed surprised.

Caleb thought it was a perfectly reasonable course of action. The women were their neighbors, and Jules might need something. At the very least, she’d need a ride back home.

“White knight syndrome,” Matt said.

“Who’s he rescuing?” TJ asked.

“Good question.” TJ raised a brow at Caleb. “The rational one or the difficult one?”

The difficult one. “Neither.”

Caleb was simply being neighborly...and practical. He was being neighborly and practical. There was nothing remotely unusual about that.


Three (#uf6135c92-8cf5-5c4f-86ea-504d8b0d3920)

Jules couldn’t decide whether to sit down and wait patiently for news or to pace the hospital waiting room floor and worry. Melissa had seemed okay in the ambulance, in surprisingly good spirits considering she had a large nail protruding through the middle of her left hand. Jules had assumed her sister couldn’t have been too badly hurt if she was awake and joking. But she might have been in shock. She could quite easily have been in shock.

Opting for pacing, Jules walked the hall then turned at the narrow, vinyl sofa and walked back toward the vending machines. If Melissa was in shock, then the pain might not have been registering. She could be really hurt. The hospital staff had certainly taken the injury seriously, whisking her off to a trauma room. Jules had tried to follow, but the nurse had urged her to stay out of the way and let the medical staff do their work.

When Jules turned again, she saw Caleb at the end of the hallway walking swiftly toward her. He looked tall, broad-shouldered and capable, and she felt an inexplicable sense of relief at the sight of him. As soon as the feeling registered, she banished it. It was embarrassing to react that way. He wasn’t a medical professional. He wasn’t a friend. He wasn’t a significant person in either her or Melissa’s life. There was no reason his presence should be comforting, none at all.

“Is Melissa all right?” he asked as he approached, concern clear in his tone.

She felt an inexcusable urge to walk straight into his arms. She wouldn’t do it, of course, but a little part of her couldn’t help wondering how he’d react if she did.

“They’ve taken her into surgery.”

He frowned as he came to a halt. “That sounds concerning.”

“They told me it was a precaution.”

His intense look of interest prompted her to continue.

“There’s a hand specialist in the hospital tonight, and he wants to be sure they don’t damage any nerves or tendons taking out the nail. At least that’s what they said.” She had to fight the urge to lean on him again. “You don’t think they’d downplay it, do you?”

“Are you worried?” he asked, moving slightly closer.

She wished he’d keep his distance. It was easier to resist him that way.

“No. I can’t decide. Should I be worried? The truth is I’m worried that I’m not worried. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

“She was still talking when we arrived. I thought that was a good sign. But now I’m thinking she might have been in shock.”

“I suppose that’s possible.” He looked thoughtful.

“You could have just said it was a good sign.”

He gave a slight smile. “I think it was a good sign.”

“Too late.”

“I suppose.” He paused. “But it was probably a good sign.”

“Noble effort.”

“I don’t see why they’d downplay it for you. They’d want you to be prepared for any bad news.”

“Okay. I’ll give you that one.” Jules relaxed a little. She moved and sat down on a padded chair.

Caleb followed, taking a chair across from her. They were both silent for a few moments.

It was Caleb who broke it. “Do you know what was she doing with the nail gun?”

“She was showing me how it worked. Noah had shown her earlier. And, well, it went off. We didn’t expect that.”

An expression of annoyance crossed Caleb’s face. “Noah showed her how to use a nail gun?”

“It’s not Noah’s fault.”

“What was he thinking?”

“That she asked a question and he answered it.”

“I don’t mean to sound sexist—”

Jules felt her spine stiffen. “But you’re about to.”

“I guess I am. Are you sure that the two of you should be undertaking a construction project?”

“We’re not undertaking a construction project. We’re helping with a construction project. Noah has been great about showing us what to do and how to do it.”

Caleb frowned again. “He didn’t do so well with the nail gun.”

“Ms. Parker?” A nurse interrupted.

Jules immediately switched her attention. “You have news?” She came to her feet.

Caleb rose with her.

The smile on the nurse’s face was encouraging, but it seemed to take forever for her to speak. “Your sister is out of surgery. It went very well.”

“Thank you,” Jules whispered, relief rushing through her. She realized then just how frightened she’d been.

“She’s in recovery for the next hour or so, and then she’ll likely sleep through the night. There’s no need for you to stay.”

“So her hand will be fine?”

“The surgeon is anticipating a complete recovery. She’ll need to rest it for a couple of weeks. She can follow up with her family doctor.”

“We’re new in town. We don’t have—”

“She can see my doctor,” Caleb put in. His hand went to the small of Jules’s back and rested lightly there.

She looked skeptically up at him. Good doctors had been difficult to find in Portland. Most had closed practices and weren’t taking new patients.

“He’ll see her.” Caleb spoke with authority, seeming to guess Jules’s hesitation.

She was reminded of his wealth, and the power it likely brought him. She realized his doctor would probably grant any favor Caleb asked. Her first reaction was to refuse on principle. But Melissa’s health was at stake, and Jules knew she couldn’t let pride stand in the way of the best care for her.

“Thank you,” she said instead.

Caleb smiled, and his hand firmed against her back. Warmth and pleasure flowed through her before she remembered to shut it down.

“Can I see Melissa?” Jules asked the nurse.

“Not for at least an hour. She’s in recovery.” The nurse’s gaze went to the clock on the wall, which showed that it was well past midnight.

“You might as well come back in the morning,” Caleb said. “You need some sleep, too.”

Again, Jules wanted to argue with him on principle. But she was tired, and he wasn’t wrong, especially if Melissa was only going to sleep anyway.

“I’ll drive you home,” he said, seeming to take her silence for agreement.

It was, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to make the assumption. But now wasn’t the time to make an issue of it.

She directed her attention to the nurse instead, reaching out to squeeze the woman’s hands in gratitude. “Thank you so much. Will you thank the surgeon for me?”

“I will.”

The nurse departed, and Jules stepped away from Caleb’s touch as they walked down the corridor.

“I can get a cab,” she said as they approached the double doors of the foyer.

“Sure you could,” he said. “And that makes perfect sense. Especially since I’m driving past your house on my way home.”

“We’re not your responsibility,” she felt compelled to point out.

He pushed open the door. “Nobody said you were.”

“What are you doing here anyway?” The night wind was brisk against her thin T-shirt, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

“I wanted to make sure Melissa was okay. And I knew you’d need a ride home.”

“You barely know us.”

He indicated a black Lexus parked near the door. “I’ve known you for twenty-four years.”

“You’ve disliked me for twenty-four years. It’s not the same thing.”

“I never disliked you.” Something softened in his tone. “I barely knew you.”

“You dislike me now.”

“I’m annoyed with you right now. That’s not the same thing either.”

“Close enough.”

He cracked a smile as he opened the passenger door. “You do make it difficult to like you, Jules.”

“Because I won’t give in and give you what you want.”

“That’s part of it.” He closed the door and crossed to the driver’s side.

“What’s the other part?” she asked as he took his seat and pressed the starter button.

To her relief, warm air immediately blew through the dashboard vents.

“You disagree with virtually everything I say.”

She thought about that. “Not with everything you say.”

He gave an ironic shake of his head, but he smiled again, too.

She liked his smile. She had to stop liking his smile. And his touch, she really had to stop liking his touch.

He pulled out of the parking spot and headed for the winding coastal road back to their houses. “Name one thing where you’ve agreed with me.”

“I’m letting you drive me home.”

“I had to talk you into that.”

“Proving I can change my mind,” she said with triumph. “I’m a reasonable person who can change her mind when presented with evidence.”

“In that case, let me explain about how...”

Her heart sank a bit. “Not tonight, Caleb.”

“I was joking.”

She suddenly felt drained of energy and realized she’d been running on adrenaline since the accident, and the relief that had buoyed her at learning Melissa would recover had already worn off. Now she was just exhausted.

“Are you hungry?” he surprised her by asking.

She was, but she didn’t want to admit it. It felt like she’d be showing him another weakness.

“I’m starving,” he said. “Do you mind if we stop?”

“You’re driving. It’s your car. You can do whatever you like.”

He glanced her way. “Have I done something to annoy you just now?”

She instantly felt guilty. “No.” That was a lie. “Yes.” That wasn’t quite right either. “I wish you’d quit being nice. It makes me nervous.”

He laughed, and the rich sound was somehow soothing to her nerves.

He took an abrupt left, entering the parking lot of a fast-food place. “Burger okay with you?”

“Whatever you’re having,” she said. She was hungry, not fussy.

He pulled up to the drive-through window, and a young woman slid back the glass.

Considering the late hour, the girl’s smile was positively perky. “What can I get for you?”

“Two cheeseburgers, two fries and two chocolate shakes,” Caleb said.

She rang up the order, and Caleb handed her some bills.

“Coming right up.” She pulled back, the smile still in place.

“Comfort food,” Jules said, thinking it fit the circumstances.

“I forgot you were a chef.”

“I wasn’t being critical.”

“You weren’t?”

She gave him an eye roll. “If you’re going to jump to conclusions, you should learn to interpret my intonation.”

“I thought that was sarcasm.”

“It wasn’t. I’ve got nothing against burgers and fries. They get a bad rap. They’re tasty. Okay, maybe not so nutritious as to be a daily recommendation. But I’m not really in the mood for nutrition right now.”

He smiled and seemed to relax. They both fell silent.

“Thanks for this,” she said a few minutes later.

“Not a problem.”

The window opened and the girl handed Caleb his change and the food.

He set the milk shakes in the console between them and passed the warm, fragrant paper bag to Jules. Then he pulled across the shoreline road into a parking lot overlooking the ocean. He shut off the engine and released his seat belt.

“This okay?” he asked her.

“Perfect.” She released her own seat belt and sat back in the comfy leather seat, letting the tension of the past few hours drain from her.

Melissa was going to be okay. Everything else would work itself out around that.

Caleb relieved her of the bag and handed back a burger wrapped in waxed paper, and then a small carton of fries. She popped one of the fries in her mouth. It was crisp and flavorful, salty and satisfying.

“Mmm,” she said.

He smiled and gave a small shake of his head. “You’re awfully easy to please.”

“My needs are simple.” She took the closest milk shake and drew the cold, creamy liquid through the straw.

“You surprise me, Juliet Parker.”

“You should be the one surprising me by appreciating burgers.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m an ordinary Portland girl. You’re a successful millionaire who lives in a mansion on the hill.”

“I suppose that’s true,” he agreed, a trace of laughter in his voice.

She unfolded the wrapper, pulling it away from the sticky cheese. “If anyone should be snobby about fast food, it’s you.”

“I normally add a garnish of caviar.”

“Now, that’s more what I expected.”

“Then I’m likely to keep surprising you.”

“Is this your pitch for being an ordinary guy?”

“I am an ordinary guy.”

“You own seventeen restaurants.”

“You did some research.”

“I did,” she admitted. “I’ve concluded you don’t need an eighteenth.”

He paused. “You really want to have that argument now?”

She didn’t. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it up. Or maybe she was. They were getting along, and that made her nervous. She’d wanted to remind herself of what stood between them. She didn’t want to like Caleb. She didn’t dare.

* * *

The burgers finished and the drive complete, Caleb stepped out of his car at the top of the stairs that led down to the Parker house.





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