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Coast Guard Sweetheart
Coast Guard Sweetheart
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Coast Guard Sweetheart

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Coast Guard Sweetheart
Lisa Carter

Second Chance SailorWhen Coast Guard officer Sawyer Kole is stationed again in Kiptohanock, Virginia, he's ready to prove to Honey Duer that he's a changed man—and the right man for her. But it's not smooth sailing when a hurricane blows their way.To save the family inn she's restored to perfection, Honey will ride out the storm. But can she handle the turbulence of seeing Sawyer again? Years ago he walked away, taking her dreams of love. Now as Hurricane Zelda barrels down, Honey may have no choice but to trust Sawyer to save her life and—just maybe—her heart.

Second Chance Sailor

When coast guard officer Sawyer Kole is stationed again in Kiptohanock, Virginia, he’s ready to prove to Honey Duer that he’s a changed man—and the right man for her. But it’s not smooth sailing when a hurricane blows their way. To save the family inn she’s restored to perfection, Honey will ride out the storm. But can she handle the turbulence of seeing Sawyer again? Years ago he walked away, taking her dreams of love. Now as Hurricane Zelda barrels down, Honey may have no choice but to trust Sawyer to save her life and—just maybe—her heart.

Sawyer had to save her.

Straining through the water and the hurricane winds, he reached her Victorian and pounded his fist on the door. “Open this door, Honey, or I’ll kick it in.” His boot leveled a blow against the door.

She opened it, but the wind wrenched it from her grasp. “I don’t need your help.” She jabbed her finger into his slicker. “’Cause unlike you, I don’t walk away and abandon what’s important.”

He ignored her veiled reference to their past. “I’m here to take you to safety.”

“Being with you, as I’ve learned, doesn’t equal safety.”

He fought to keep his temper under control. “There’s no time for this now. The water’s rising.”

She tipped her chin in defiance. “I’m not leaving. And you can’t make me.”

“Watch me.” In two strides he reached her and, seizing her waist, slung her over his shoulder.

“Let go of me!” She pounded his back.

As he slogged through the water, he thought of one thing: it wasn’t the way he’d planned it, but at least she was back in his arms.

LISA CARTER and her family make their home in North Carolina. In addition to her Love Inspired novels, she writes romantic suspense for Abingdon Press. When she isn’t writing, Lisa enjoys traveling to romantic locales, teaching writing workshops and researching her next exotic adventure. She has strong opinions on barbecue and ACC basketball. She loves to hear from readers. Connect with Lisa at lisacarterauthor.com (http://www.lisacarterauthor.com).

Coast Guard Sweetheart

Lisa Carter

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

Some went down to the sea in ships, doing business on the great waters; they saw the deeds of the Lord, His wondrous works in the deep. For He commanded and raised the stormy wind, which lifted up the waves of the sea.

—Psalms 107:23–25

Dedicated to Jean and Billy Davis

Thanks for sharing your heart, home and family with me over these many years. You have been

a tremendous blessing in my life. I love you both.

Mr. Billy—Thank you for helping David dig up the ditch lilies one summer day for us to bring home to North Carolina, allowing me to enjoy a piece of the Eastern Shore every time the lilies bloom in my garden.

Miss Jean—I loved those marsh moccasins you made for us to wear. What a fun time we had that first summer and since—living life, doing ministry together, shopping… Thank you for investing your life in untold numbers of young people and in me.

Acknowledgments (#ulink_36220afa-954f-54ab-b140-c22d736d0875)

Eastern Shore friends—Rest assured all fictional hurricane damage was confined to fictional Kiptohanock.

Many thanks to retired United States Coast Guard Captain Jim Umberger for answering my questions about SAR operations. Any errors are my own.

Thanks also to the United States Coast Guard for your dedication and sacrifice. Blessings to you who serve on CG vessels and at CG stations. Thank you for your service.

Contents

Cover (#ue4358e39-487e-5235-83cb-e179cd2423b8)

Back Cover Text (#u287ddca8-5065-5b98-adc5-9be6173e98fc)

Introduction (#u75b5595e-552f-515c-b87c-22517c97272a)

About the Author (#u461fa243-b223-5dc4-b0eb-1b1cec247604)

Title Page (#u5e5cdffc-535b-5d43-adf1-2fc7b60e0324)

Bible Verse (#u4c22a06e-269d-5653-b439-eeb672c46894)

Dedication (#uc979420a-9295-5120-933c-e07d96f61ab5)

Acknowledgments (#ue3f7444d-26bd-5c82-83eb-469719394492)

Chapter One (#u8d5ce9e9-cb4c-5b42-bd2a-ee3689183365)

Chapter Two (#u0493bc24-f28e-5ec8-b539-723e8a1cd4ac)

Chapter Three (#u2e26bbe2-4e05-50c7-84ec-8bc88260dd4d)

Chapter Four (#u3e5bfae5-319a-5a6b-b745-c0c25c5413f5)

Chapter Five (#u269084fe-6bf7-59f0-b14b-96487b2bf9fa)

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)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_feda67c2-76c7-58a3-b62e-1cd5f7588d76)

“What are you doing here, Sawyer Kole?”

Honey Duer’s heart stuttered. Irrational gladness surged through her nerve endings until she tamped her feelings down to that secret place where she contained everything concerning the Coast Guard petty officer. Perched on a stool at the Sandpiper Cafe counter, he stiffened at the sound of her voice.

Kiptohanock life ebbed and flowed around them. The hearty scent of eggs and bacon permeated the diner. Weather-beaten watermen packed the green vinyl booths and sopped their buttermilk biscuits in redeye gravy while trading fish stories.

Placing his palms flat against the counter, Sawyer rose and faced her. He let his arms drop to his side.

Much against her will, Honey’s gaze locked onto Sawyer’s hands—strong, work-roughened and capable. A distant memory flashed of those hands cupping one of Blackie’s pups.

The clinking of glasses and murmur of voices in the crowded diner faded into a distant, droning buzz as the image of Sawyer’s face that long ago Kiptohanock spring welled in her mind. He’d cradled the black Labrador puppies, the lines fanning out from his eyes as he smiled. At her.

Her stomach knotted. And with her reverie broken, she found his crystal blue gaze fixed on her. In his eyes, she beheld pain, regret, sadness. And a question?

She recalled her crusty waterman father’s oft-quoted saying, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

Honey quelled the traitorous feelings Sawyer’s presence evoked. She’d believed—hoped—after three long years, she’d be immune. But apparently not.

She’d learned the hard way not to trust a Coastie. Especially not this one. So with deliberate effort, she schooled her features and reined in her pulse.

The summer tourist season remained at fever pitch with the upcoming Labor Day weekend and Duck Decoy Festival. And with the Duer family’s century-old lodge booked to the rafters, she didn’t need this—or him—distracting her.

“Why are you here, Kole?”

Eyelids drooping, he put the stool between them. “Reassigned back to the Shore. Thought the chief would’ve warned you.”

Honey propped her hands on her hips—mainly to give her hands something to do. Anything but allow her hands to shake and betray their utter unreliability. “The chief? Braeden Scott knew you were here?”

Of course as Officer in Charge her brother-in-law knew. Which meant her big sister Amelia knew, too. She growled low in her throat. “How long, Kole? How long have you been skulking around Kiptohanock without me knowing?”

“A week.”

Sawyer’s eyes, the blue of a winter sky over the blue-green waters of the Delmarva Peninsula, darted toward her again. “I was told you didn’t work at the cafe anymore. That you wouldn’t be hard to...” His gaze slid away to the diner’s plate glass window overlooking the cupola-topped gazebo on the square.

And she extinguished the tiny spark of hope that had surfaced upon spotting his broad uniformed shoulders hunched over a cup of coffee and a plate of Long Johns. As if time had rewound back to that spring when she’d dared to dream, to hope...

She grimaced.

When he left her looking like a fool in front of the fishing hamlet of Kiptohanock, Virginia.

And the startling fact that hope somehow persisted—despite her best efforts to eradicate it—angered Honey. Angered her more than the gall of this here-today, gone-tomorrow Coastie, who had the nerve to show up in her town at her cafe again.

The anger, with three long years to simmer, boiled in her veins. ’Cause Sawyer Kole hadn’t come looking for her. He’d come thinking to avoid her.

Eating Long Johns and drinking coffee at her counter as if nothing had changed. Some things never did change. Some men never did, either.

Like how you couldn’t trust a Coastie as far as you could throw him.

“Honey, I—” His mouth pulled downward.

The anger percolated in her gut, rising. Someone tugged at her hand.

She glanced down to find her eight-year-old nephew, Max. With whom she’d come searching for a midmorning treat once the inn’s guests cleared out after breakfast. Max—whom she’d completely forgotten in her sudden awareness of Sawyer.

“Is that the Coastie who made you cry, Aunt Honey?”

She flinched at the foghorn decibel of Max’s voice.

Conversation ground to an abrupt silence.

Sawyer’s face constricted and he swallowed. Hard.

“I’m sorry, Honey.” Sawyer pivoted on his heel toward the exit.

Her nostrils flared. That was it? After all this time, that was all he had to say for himself?

If he thought he was going to walk away from her again, Sawyer Kole had another thought coming. No longer able to contain the molten lava of three years of unanswered questions, her anger erupted and exploded.

“That’d be Beatrice Duer to you, Coastie.”

She reached across the counter and seized the uneaten Long John on his plate. She hurled the cinnamon donut across the room where it collided with a shower of powdery sugar against the back of Sawyer Kole’s hard head.

The dozen or so cafe patrons, including Max, gave a collective gasp.