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A Stranger In The Cove
Rachel Brimble
He came for answers… He never expected to find herMac Orman is on a mission. When he discovers his recently deceased father had been searching for his birth mother, Mac aims to finish the job by finding the grandmother he never knew. His quest leads him to Templeton Cove—and a firecracker of a woman who instantly jump-starts his tortured heart.For Mac, Kate Harrington is the most tempting kind of distraction. But their sizzling connection comes with a side of suspicion for Kate, who doesn’t trust this brooding stranger in her town. Mac arrived with no plans to stay, but as he falls for Kate, he wonders how he could ever possibly leave.
He came for answers... He never expected to find her
Mac Orman is on a mission. When he discovers his recently deceased father had been searching for his birth mother, Mac aims to finish the job by finding the grandmother he never knew. His quest leads him to Templeton Cove—and a firecracker of a woman who instantly jump-starts his tortured heart.
For Mac, Kate Harrington is the most tempting kind of distraction. But their sizzling connection comes with a side of suspicion for Kate, who doesn’t trust this brooding stranger in her town. Mac arrived with no plans to stay, but as he falls for Kate, he wonders how he could ever possibly leave.
Coming in here had been a bad idea. He needed to leave. Now.
He turned toward the door.
“Mac?”
He stopped and squeezed his eyes closed. Kate.
“Hey.” Her palm touched his back.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned. “Hey.”
Her smile was warm as she looked deep into his eyes, assessing him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He tried to drag out something casual. Or any words would be welcome. His brain had frozen at the sexy, happy sight of her. Her chocolate-colored eyes gleamed under the overhead lights, her cheeks flushed and her body damn near perfect in an open-necked shirt and tight black jeans.
She frowned. “Well, as much as I’m getting used to your permanent scowl, you don’t look fine. What are you doing here?”
He stupidly dropped his gaze to her mouth and memories of how she tasted flooded him. He snapped his gaze past her shoulder and shrugged. “I came looking for you.”
Dear Reader (#ue10c7dc7-e979-5295-a96a-e1b421cafe7f),
Welcome back to Templeton Cove. I’m sad to say this will be our very last visit to my favorite English seaside town.
This final installment revolves around a very special lady: Marian Cohen, the beloved, feisty, amazing matriarch of the town who stole my heart (and the miniseries!) from the very first book.
A Stranger in the Cove introduces Mac Orman, who has come to town searching for Marian, his biological grandmother. Unfortunately, one of the first people Mac meets is no-nonsense, protective, loving Kate Harrington. As a charity worker, Kate has seen her fair share of cases where people are hurting and angry. It isn’t long before she makes up her mind that Mac is in town to cause trouble for her close friend Marian.
This book encapsulates the joy I’ve had writing Marian’s escapades throughout the miniseries. She means the world to me! Throughout Kate and Mac’s journey, I was reduced to tears of happiness and sorrow as I finally revealed Marian’s past.
I hope you enjoy this book, and if you’re visiting Templeton Cove for the first time, I urge you to read the rest of the series.
It’s a sad goodbye from me to a town I love with all my heart.
Rachel
Twitter: @rachelbrimble (https://twitter.com/rachelbrimble) Facebook: Rachel Brimble (https://www.facebook.com/rachelbrimbleauthor/)
A Stranger in the Cove
Rachel Brimble
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
RACHEL BRIMBLE lives with her husband and two teenage daughters in a small town near Bath in the UK. After having several novels published by small US presses, she secured agent representation in 2011. Since 2013, she has had eight books contracted with Harlequin Superromance (Templeton Cove Stories). She also has four Victorian romances with eKensington/Lyrical Press.
She likes nothing more than connecting and chatting with her readers and fellow romance writers. Rachel would love to hear from you!
This book is dedicated first and foremost to Susan, Clare, Debbie and Karen Brooks, my husband’s birth mother and sisters with whom he was reunited almost three years ago. I love you so much, ladies, and we feel so blessed to have you, your partners and our new, precious nieces and nephews in our lives.
I’d also like to dedicate this book to my fabulous editor, Piya Campana—there aren’t words to express how much your expertise, knowledge and support over the five years of our working together means to me. I wish you all the luck in the world as our careers take a new path. Let’s make sure we keep in touch!
Contents
Cover (#uc1c076e2-b1d5-52ad-9062-f4b99615d316)
Back Cover Text (#ua1f2513f-5c61-5e4d-a9ec-2104a232fa28)
Introduction (#ue1884087-8865-5ab0-83c9-07ab94993a32)
Dear Reader (#ud71b17f3-d07a-5cb2-bb48-b950e60c8731)
Title Page (#u8d992a76-336e-504d-956b-96a83bd1c2be)
About the Author (#uaeff2a4b-77f8-5498-852c-0d953d33ec35)
Dedication (#ue710436c-2ea4-5711-bc96-fe13c09beb63)
Chapter One (#ub0445734-c5d5-5b00-bd9e-a54df2964651)
Chapter Two (#u03c73355-5c2c-5416-b7ae-15299cd64713)
Chapter Three (#u4115223e-d7c8-51fe-b494-24686a8503b7)
Chapter Four (#u2eaba3a1-bc6f-5cd4-9b80-03c4c041da68)
Chapter Five (#u3c91e640-b658-5cfe-a15f-ecb68e911718)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ue10c7dc7-e979-5295-a96a-e1b421cafe7f)
KATE HARRINGTON’S ENTIRE body trembled with annoyance when the not-so-honorable Mayor Binchy abruptly ended their phone call. She slammed the phone receiver back into its cradle.
The nerve of the man!
She glared around Templeton Cove’s Teenage Support office. It buzzed with activity, her colleagues busy talking on phones or scribbling notes, heedless that dusk fell beyond the plate glass window.
Frustration boiled dangerously inside her. She and the rest of the staff had dedicated every hour possible into making the upcoming fund-raiser a success. Tickets had been selling well for months, and the team was on track for an impressive donation to the local hospital’s new young mother and baby unit.
But how was she meant to impress the three or four major donors to the event in three days’ time if the mayor had deemed the entire day and night a “non-priority”?
Young, unmarried mothers who’d been kicked out of their homes or had found themselves all alone with a baby to care for were a non-priority? Kate ground her teeth. She’d like to make a priority of ramming a red-hot poker up Mayor Binchy’s ass.
“Whoa...” Her colleague Nancy Marshall approached, pushing her glasses up her nose. “What, or who, has put that look on your face?”
Kate scowled. “The look that says I might just wring someone’s neck?”
Nancy nodded. “Uh-huh, exactly.”
Kate tipped her head back and groaned. “This fund-raiser means so much to all of us and I really wanted the mayor to show his support on Saturday.” She dropped her chin and glared. “Is that too much to ask of the man who supposedly champions the town and supports the community? Mayor Binchy is a waste of space if he deems lone mothers a non-priority.”
Nancy’s smile vanished, and she flicked her long black hair over her shoulder. “He said that?” Her eyes widened. “To you?”
“Yep.”
“The man must have a death wish.”
“Agreed.”
“And what did you say after he said that?”
“He cut me off somewhere around, ‘shall I bring a few of these mothers to your place so you can explain where you stand?’” Kate blew out a breath and sat behind her desk. “Forget him. We don’t need some stuck-up know-it-all to front this fund-raiser. All we need is plenty of press interest, and that’s pretty much a done deal. We’ve got music, food, marquees galore...not to mention the Moon Shadows.” Kate felt marginally appeased that one of the UK’s up-and-coming country rock bands backed their campaign. “So, did you want my help with something?”
“If that’s okay...” Nancy grimaced. “Although now is probably not the best time to let you know about another no-show for Saturday.”
“What?” Kate’s optimism wavered once more. “Who?”
“The lead guitarist from the Moon Shadows is sick. The bassist has promised he’ll find a replacement. I’m just worried how the crowd will react to not having Jason Stewart there. He’s the main man, after all.”
“Since when has a guitarist been the main man? What’s wrong with the lead singer?”
“Nothing. It’s just Jason is...” Nancy’s dark eyes glistened with mischief. “Well, Jason.”
“Hmm.” Kate picked up a pen and tapped it on her desk. “As long as they find a replacement and the show can go on, it will be fine. I’d like to think people in the Cove will be there for the cause...even if the mayor isn’t.”
“True.” Nancy pressed her ever-present clipboard to her chest. “Is there anything else I can take off your plate? You look so stressed.”
“I’m fine. Really.” Kate pushed the curls from her brow and forced a smile. “See? All good.”
Her colleague raised her eyebrows, her gaze disbelieving. “If you say so. I’ll see you in the morning then, okay?”
“Sure. Have a nice night.”
Kate dragged some papers from the overflowing tray on her desk and resigned herself to another late night. Her eyes itched with tiredness, and her body ached from the hours she’d put in over the last month trying to pull together what she hoped would be a fund-raiser to beat all fund-raisers.
She put the final touches on the last press release before the event and emailed it to the Cove Chronicle’s editor. With any luck, Claire Neale would run a story about the event on page two, even if she wouldn’t promise Kate the front page. The local radio station had been great, and Kate’s entire team had worked social media to the breaking point, but still, any last-minute ticket purchases would be welcome.
She picked up the phone and dialed the Chronicle’s number. Considering the last press release she’d sent had gone astray, Kate needed to be sure this one was safely received.
“The Cove Chronicle, Claire Neale speaking.”
“Claire, it’s Kate.”
“Hi. What can I do for you?”
“I just sent you the press release for Saturday’s fund-raiser. I’d really appreciate you running it tomorrow, if possible.”
“Can’t do tomorrow, Kate. You should’ve had this with me days ago if you wanted it in tomorrow. I’ll tell you what, as you’ve got the Moon Shadows coming, I’ll put it on page two on Friday. Okay?”
Should she tell Claire about the lead guitarist? No. What good would that do for the cause? “Great. Okay. That’s good. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now, get off this phone. Some of us want to get home before nine, if we can.”
