A Stranger In The Cove

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,

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 Facebook: Rachel Brimble

A Stranger in the Cove

Rachel Brimble

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

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

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

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?”