Authors: Marie Force
The chime of the bells on the store’s door reminded him of the last time he’d visited the store and what had happened then. He quickly forced his thoughts off that topic and focused on a quick visit. However, the scent of the store filled his senses, reminding him of the night before. Honestly, he was like a randy fourteen-year-old boy where she was concerned. With a quick look around the store, he didn’t see her.
Patty emerged from the storeroom, and Blaine did a double take.
Wow
. She looked so different! “Oh, hi, Chief Taylor. How are you today?”
“Doing good, Patty. Did you cut your hair or something?”
Patty’s cheeks turned bright red. “Or something. Tiffany gave me a makeover.”
“Well,” he said, “you look great.”
“Totally great,” Wyatt added, his eyes bugging at the sight of Patty’s pronounced cleavage.
Before his patrolman could embarrass them both, Blaine asked for Tiffany.
“She’s home sick today. Apparently, she caught whatever Ashleigh had.”
Blaine hated to think of her being sick. “That’s too bad.”
“Should I tell her you stopped by?”
“That’s okay. I’ll give her a call later. Have a good day.”
“You, too.”
Blaine headed for the door and was halfway across the street when he realized Wyatt wasn’t with him. Fuming, he turned to go back after him when the patrolman came bursting out of the store wearing a goofy grin on his face.
“What the hell are you doing?” Blaine asked him as they got back into the SUV.
“Nothing.”
Blaine studied the younger man, who looked like the cat who’d swallowed the proverbial canary. “Did you ask her out?”
“Am I required to disclose the details of my personal life to my chief?”
While Wyatt’s cheekiness annoyed him, it also amused him, much to his dismay. “At all times.”
“In that case, yes, I asked her out—not that it’s any of your business.”
“If it happens on my watch, it’s my business.”
“How do you figure?”
“Son, you’ve got a lot to learn about police work.”
“I assume all of this is in the manual?”
The dryly spoken comment earned a genuine laugh from Blaine. “Naturally.” He retrieved a binder from the backseat and tossed it to the mouthy patrolman. “Study up. I’ve got a phone call to make.”
“To your
girlfriend
?”
“Shut up and read.”
“Yes, sir.”
Shaking his head, Blaine got out of the truck and slammed the door. Pain-in-the-ass kid. Was he ever that insubordinate? Thinking back to his early years as a patrolman in a small Massachusetts town, he decided he was probably worse than Wyatt ever thought of being. He found Tiffany’s number on his phone and pressed Send.
Her “hello” a minute later sounded tortured.
“I heard you were sick. Are you okay?”
“Dying.”
“Where’s Ashleigh?”
“Sleeping. We were up all night.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I’m okay.”
“Could I check on you later?”
“I’d permanently scare you away if you saw the way I look right now.”
“Nah. I’m not that easily scared.”
“I’m also afraid of you getting it. I certainly exposed you to it last night.”
“I liked the way you exposed me to your germs. Can we do it again soon?”
“Don’t make me laugh,” she said with a moan. “Everything hurts.”
“Do you think you should call David?”
“Nah, just a flu. Hopefully a quick one. I need to get back to work.”
“Patty is holding down the fort at the store. I just saw her.”
“Oh, really? Any customers?”
“Not that I saw, but it’s early. Get this—my patrolman Wyatt asked her out.”
“That’s awesome!”
He was surprised by her enthusiasm, especially when she felt so crappy. “You think so? It could turn out to be a pain for both of us.”
“She wants a boyfriend so badly. The poor thing has never had one.”
“Aww, that’s sweet. She was very cute telling me about the makeover you gave her while blushing furiously. That was a nice thing you did for her, Tiff.”
“It was fun.”
“I’ll call you before I come over later to see if you guys need anything.”
“Thanks.”
Blaine hung up with her and got back in the SUV.
“How’s the girlfriend?” Wyatt asked.
“Sick, if you must know.”
“I heard there’s a stomach flu going around the island. Nasty business.”
“She has it and so does her daughter.”
“That’s too bad. I can cover for you for a while if you need to help her out.”
Maybe there was hope for the kid after all. “That’s not necessary, but thanks for the offer.”
“Where’re we heading now?”
“I need to stop by the Sand & Surf for a minute.”
“What goes on there?”
“They’re getting ready to reopen at the end of the week, and Stephanie’s restaurant is opening to friends and family tonight.”
“So what do you need to do?”
“Make sure the fire chief got there to inspect the place before it opens, check in with Laura, the hotel manager, to see if there’s anything she needs from us for the opening, and I need to speak with Owen Lawry’s mother Sarah about a personal matter.”
“Sounds exciting.” Wyatt’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
“A lot of what we do as small-town police officers is boring, especially in the off season. But at least once a year, I save a life, usually that of a kid who gets drunk on the beach and doesn’t realize he or she has alcohol poisoning. The other night, we saved a woman from her abusive boyfriend, seconds before he would’ve killed her. It’s not like the big city with the nonstop action, but we have our purpose.”
As he drove, Blaine glanced at the patrolman. “I’d understand if you decide it’s not for you. That’s why we insist on a probationary period where either party can terminate the contract. We don’t want anyone here who doesn’t want to be here.”
“I like the job. More than I thought I would. I’m not so sure how I feel about being stuck on the island, though.”
“Let me know when you’ve made up your mind.” As much as the kid got on Blaine’s nerves at times, he had real potential, and Blaine would hate to lose him.
“I will.”
They parked behind the hotel and walked around to the front. The old gray lady gleamed from the facelift she’d been given over the winter. Her shingles had been power-washed, her trim painted, the porch rebuilt and most of the windows replaced. To look at the hotel now, you’d never know it had guarded the northern corner of the harbor town for more than a century or that it had fallen into disrepair after Owen’s grandparents retired a few years ago. Pots of flowers sat on the stairs that led to the porch where new white rocking chairs waited for guests to while away a summer day overlooking the waterfront.
“Place looks awesome,” Wyatt said.
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
Inside, they found Laura McCarthy conferring with the fire chief, Mason Johns. Laura’s baby son, Holden, snoozed in a pouch tied around his mother’s shoulders.
“Hey, Blaine.” Mason extended a hand. “We were just talking about you.”
“Is that right?” Blaine shook the other man’s hand. At roughly six foot six inches of solid muscle, Mason towered over him and most other men. Someone had told Blaine that Mason had once been a competitive weightlifter before he became a firefighter. Suffice to say, Blaine wouldn’t want to screw with the guy.
Wyatt stared at the fire chief with blatant admiration and a healthy dose of intimidation.
“Laura was saying she’s talked to you about parking and crowd control for the open house tonight,” Mason said.
“That’s right. I’ve got two patrol officers assigned to keep an eye on things here and to handle any traffic issues.”
“Sounds good,” Mason said. “I’ve signed off on my inspection, so you’re approved to open, Laura.”
“That’s the best news I’ve had in weeks,” Laura said. “I was so afraid Stephanie’s opening would get messed up by something I missed in the hotel.”
“Not to worry.” Mason handed her a certificate. “You covered all the bases. Wish you a lot of luck with the place.”
“Thank you. We need all the luck we can get.”
Blaine looked around at the cozy lobby that boasted freshly painted white wainscoting, sage walls and furniture he’d heard called “shabby chic.” Taken as a whole, it worked magnificently. “It looks so good, Laura. It’s great to have the Surf reopened. The town wasn’t the same without her.”
“I agree. Fingers crossed for a smooth opening.” As she said the words, Blaine watched her wobble and reached out a hand to steady her. He noticed a fine sheen of perspiration on her forehead.
“Are you okay?”
“I can’t believe it, but I think I’m getting sick. I feel awful.”
“It’s going around the island,” Blaine said.
“I’ve heard the clinic is overrun today,” Mason added.
“Great,” Laura said with a moan. “This is
so
not what I need right now.”
Laura’s fiancé Owen Lawry came bounding down the stairs, wearing a red bandanna pirate-style over his unruly blond hair. “Hey, Blaine, Mason.” He shook hands with both men. “How goes it?”
“We’re good,” Blaine said, “but poor Laura is not so good.”
Owen’s attention immediately shifted to his fiancée. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’m not feeling so great, but don’t worry. I’ll soldier through.” She barely got the words out before she turned a disturbing shade of green.
“Owen,” Blaine said, worried that she might pass out with the baby attached to her.
“I’ve got her.” Owen deftly transferred the baby pouch to his own shoulders and put an arm around Laura.
She leaned into him. “I can’t puke in front of you again. I just can’t.”
“Morning sickness,” Owen said for Blaine and Mason’s benefit. “It was brutal.” To Laura, he said, “Let’s get you upstairs, honey.”
“I have so much to do!”
“My mom and I have got you covered. Don’t worry.”
“Speaking of your mom,” Blaine said. “Is she around?”
“Second floor, far left,” Owen said. “I just left her giving the bathrooms up there a final cleaning.”
“I’ll find her.”
“Everything okay?” Owen asked, seeming anxious.
Blaine knew he was thinking of the night last fall when his mother arrived on the island beaten and broken after the final showdown with her abusive ex-husband. Owen’s father, a retired army general, was due to stand trial on domestic assault charges later in the year. “Everything is fine. I could use her help with something. That’s all.”
“I’m sure she’d be glad to do anything she could for you after all you’ve done for us.”
During the short exchange, Laura’s eyes had closed, and she was leaning against Owen.
“You’d better get her to bed.”
When Owen tried to rouse her, she didn’t budge. “Asleep on her feet.”
“Let me take the baby,” Blaine said, “and you can take her.”
“Thanks, man.” Owen dipped his head so Blaine could work the baby free of the pouch.
“Stay put,” Blaine said to Wyatt. “I’ll be right back.”
“You got it.”
Holden molded himself to Blaine’s shoulder without waking. As the sweet scent of baby shampoo and powder filled his senses, Blaine was filled with a new kind of longing. What would it be like, he wondered, to have a baby son of his own? What would it be like to have a baby who had Tiffany’s and Ashleigh’s dark hair and green eyes? As he carried Holden upstairs, it dawned on him that the idea of being a husband and father didn’t terrify him the way it would have even a few weeks ago.
She’d changed something in him, something he wasn’t sorry to see changed. She’d smoothed out his bitter edges and given him reason to hope again. Halfway up the stairs, he stopped short, astounded to realize he was falling in love with her. He, the guy who’d sworn he was done with love, was suddenly on his way to being flat on his face in love again. This time was different, though. This time he was falling for someone real and genuine and sexy as all get-out.
“Blaine?” With Laura in his arms, Owen looked down from the third-floor landing. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. I’m coming.” He delivered Holden to the apartment Owen and Laura shared on the third floor. Owen was pulling the covers over Laura’s shoulders when Blaine entered through the door Owen had left open for him.
“Let me know if you guys need anything,” Blaine said as he handed over the baby to his stepfather.
“Thanks for your help.” Owen kissed the baby’s forehead. “Heck of a time for Laura to get sick with the hotel opening this week. She’ll be in a panic about work.”