A Stranger In The Cove

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The realization of just how much trouble she could find herself in mixed with the physical effects of his rich, melodic, utterly beautiful voice. How was she supposed to stop herself from acting on the sudden desire pulsing through her? It had been months since she’d even looked at a man, let alone felt this incredible pull toward one.

She wasn’t naïve. She knew this was pure lust that hung between her and Mac. Old-fashioned, come-to-mama attraction crackling across the space that separated them.

Kate quickly turned away and picked up her glass of wine, steadfastly ignoring the way it trembled as she drank.

“Hmm.” Vanessa leaned her forearms on the bar and whispered in Kate’s ear. “Like I said, electric.”

Accepting defeat, she put down her glass and covered her face with her hands. “Why now? Why when I’m so far away from trusting a man again does one have to turn up who looks like that?”

Vanessa straightened. “We don’t get to choose the timing of these things. Surely you, of all people, know that after all the heartbreak you’ve seen in your work.”

She walked away, leaving Kate feeling both afraid and shamefully enthralled. Turning toward the stage again, she studied Mac; thankfully, he was concentrating on his guitar strings. Maybe she needed to act cool about his being in the Cove and looking for someone. Act as though it was no big deal.

A bit less animosity, might help them both. If she adopted a no-nonsense business approach to him, surely that would douse the fire and fuse the electric. One thing was for certain—now that Mac had stepped in to help her fund-raiser, she had to speak to him, had to show her gratitude. Avoiding him was out of the question.

* * *

MAC BOWED TO the rapturous applause that reverberated throughout the space and tried his hardest not to search the crowd for Kate. The occasional sadness he saw in her eyes was slowly increasing the burden of his subterfuge, making him want to get to know her better...to prove to her he was a good guy. Mostly.

Straightening, he raised his hand in thanks and slipped his guitar strap over his head as he exited the stage. Accepting the back claps and nods from the people he passed, Mac headed to the bar. A cold bottle of beer would quell the strange blend of euphoria and self-doubt rippling through him.

There was no denying the warmth that emanated from the people around him, no denying his relief at their congratulations and easy acceptance of him considering the less than favorable welcome he’d received from certain individuals. He didn’t like small towns. Never had, never would. He lifted his finger to Vanessa at the far end of the bar. Why he didn’t like them escaped him, though. Was the dislike his own or something he’d been taught by his family? As far as he knew, they’d never even lived in a town the size of Templeton.

His father had known for a while Marian Ball lived here. Had he inferred something to Mac in the past that made his son overly cautious about communities he knew nothing about? Most likely. Kate was problem enough, but he had to keep everyone else at an enforced distance, too, or risk divulging something about why he was in town. He had to ensure Marian was the first to know, nobody else. He might want closure to his father’s search, but Mac also wanted the woman to hear what he knew from him and only him.

“Hey, Mac.” Vanessa opened the fridge behind her and pulled out a bottle of his preferred beer. “You did good out there.” She flipped off the top and slid it across the temporary bar. “That one’s on the house.”

“Thanks, but as the proceeds are going to charity...” He tossed a few coins into the bucket on the bar and took a lengthy slug. “All in the name of helping out those less fortunate, and all that.”

“Hmm, not sure Kate sees your helping out that way.”

His defenses immediately slammed up. “Why? What’s she been saying?”

“Whoa.” Vanessa raised her hands, her brow creased and her gaze irritated.

Mac briefly closed his eyes. “Sorry.”

“So you should be. I’m just the messenger, after all.”

“The messenger?” Mac stilled. “Of what?”

Vanessa shrugged. “I just think the pair of you could get along quite nicely if you gave each other a chance.”

Matchmaking. Another reason he didn’t like small towns. He sipped his beer. “You’re way off the mark there. Kate and I are...” He scowled. “Working each other out.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing, is it?”

Vanessa’s eyes turned infinitely softer as he hovered his beer at his mouth.

She glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Hi, Kate. I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got some thirsty customers who need serving.”

Slowly, Mac turned. Kate held her chin high, her chocolate-brown eyes burning with annoyance, her cheeks flushed and her hands firmly perched on her slender hips. “I came over here to thank you for playing, only I didn’t expect you to be chatting so offhandedly about me to Vanessa. Do you know she’s one of the worst gossips in town?”

Despite, or maybe because of, her clear irritation, amusement rolled through him. “Then it’s just as well I didn’t give her anything to gossip about.”

She rolled her eyes and, slid up to the bar beside him. “If you’re not careful, you’ll constantly be walking into a whole lot of trouble.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so.” A sly smile curved her lips. “Which leads me to the conclusion it might be to your benefit to enlist some local help.”

“Help? With what?” Then realization dawned and he laughed. “No thanks. I’ve got it covered.”

Her smile vanished and her cheeks reddened. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so nosy?”

Her mouth dropped open. “I’m not nosy, I’m concerned. You’ll be chewed up and spat out if you go nonchalantly poking around in people’s lives. You’ve told me you’re looking for someone but won’t tell me who or why. Why don’t you let me in a little? I know Templeton and its people well. I’m betting I can help you find who you’re looking for in a matter of hours.”

“Hours?”

“Fine. Days.”

He raised his eyebrows, unable to resist provoking her temper. “Because if you can find them quicker than I can, I’ll be out of your hair all the sooner, right?”

“Right.”

“Is there an unwritten rule somewhere that a person can only stay in the Cove so long before they’re ejected by the locals? Why I’m here is my business, Kate. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

She held his stare as indecision flitted through her eyes. The noise around them faded as his heart beat a little too fast, indicating just how much he liked her. He shouldn’t like her. Her argumentative nature, her stubbornness and self-assumed right to get up in his business seriously irked him. Still, it was hard to ignore her thick, dark, curly hair that tumbled past her shoulders, leaving him itching to know if it was as soft as it looked. It was even harder not to want to fall headlong into her deep, dark eyes.

Blinking, he turned to the stage. “I don’t need your concern, okay? I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

“Who said my concern was about you?”

He shook his head, took another sip of his beer. “Touché.”

“Here’s the thing. I’m concerned for who you’re looking for.”

“You’ve made that pretty clear.”

“So convince me I’ve nothing to worry about.”

“You haven’t.”

“Not good enough.”

Frustration pulsed through him as his defenses against her weakened once more. That damn worry glinted in her eyes again. He blew out a breath. “I just want to speak to this person. Get some things laid to rest. There won’t be any bloodshed if that’s what’s worrying you.”

Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t worried about that until now.”

He shook his head. “Look, this person is connected to my family. Okay? I just want to talk to her.”

Triumph flashed in her eyes. “Aha. A her.” Then, like a switch had been flicked, the triumph dissolved into apprehension once more. “Let me help you. I work with families all the time. I could at least act as a mediator or something.”

“No.”

“But—”

“I won’t need a damn mediator, Kate.” He clenched his jaw. “Just leave things alone.”

“No.”

He swiped his slightly trembling hand over his face. “Why does my being here bother you so much? Are you sure your nervousness is about someone else? Or more about you?”

She swallowed. “Someone else.”

Care for this woman and the inexplicable way she’d reacted to his presence since meeting him wound through him. There was something disconcerting in her eyes...the odd flicker of deep sadness, or shame, that made him want to hold her. Tell her everything would be okay.

“Hey.” He gently placed his hand on her arm. “I can tell something’s happened to you. What, I don’t know. But believe me when I say I’m not here to cause you more pain. Everything will work out as it’s supposed to. End of story.”

She snorted and turned, tears glinting in her eyes. “Nothing ever works out how it’s supposed to, and why should I trust that you don’t mean to hurt this woman? People hurt each other all the time.” She eased her arm from under his hand. “More often than not, the things people want, the things they hope for, never happen. If you don’t know that, you must have lived a more privileged life than most.”

The tear that rolled over her cheek made him catch his breath, and he battled against his weakening defenses. God, if only she knew how acutely he’d experienced the brutal destruction of hopes and dreams. Of heartbreak so bad, he’d never be the same again.

He leaned against the bar, felt the warmth of her arm alongside his. “My life has been far from privileged, believe me.”

She stepped in front of him, her dark gaze burning with frustration. “Fine. But by going up on that stage, you saved me from having a lot of disappointed people demanding God knows what from the center. I’m in no doubt that because of you, the fund-raiser will be the success my team and I hoped it would be. I owe you. Let me help you, Mac. Please.”

“I don’t need your damn help.” Yet inexplicable want edged far too close to his heart. He didn’t want her help, he wanted her in his bed; wanted her to look at him with lust, not pity. He tightened his jaw. “If that changes, you’ll be the first to know. So, please, just leave it be.”