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She looked at Indiana. She’d brought the horse with her from California—just Indy and three suitcases containing her most treasured belongings. Indiana had remained quarantined for some time after her arrival. Long enough for Callie to hunt through real estate lists until she’d found the perfect place to start her riding school.
Callie loved Sandhills Farm. Indiana and the rest of her nine horses were her life … her babies. The only babies I’ll have. It made her think of that man and his four children.
A strange sensation uncurled in her chest, reminding her of an old pain—of old wishes and old regrets.
She took Indy’s reins and led him toward the stables. Once he was back in the stall Callie headed for the office. She liked to call it an office, even though it essentially served as a tack room. She’d added a desk, a filing cabinet and a modest computer setup.
Joe, her part-time farmhand, had arrived and began the feeding schedule. Callie looked at her appointment book and struck Lily Preston’s name off her daily list. There would be no Lily in her life … and no Lily’s gorgeous father.
She looked around at her ego wall and at the framed photographs she’d hung up in no particular order. Pictures from her past, pictures of herself and Indiana at some of the events they’d competed in.
But not one of Craig.
Because she didn’t want the inevitable inquisition. She didn’t talk about Craig Baxter. Or her past. She’d moved halfway across the world to start her new life. Crystal Point had been an easy choice. Her father had been born in the nearby town of Bellandale and Callie remembered the many happy holidays she’d spent there when she was young. It made her feel connected to her Australian roots to make her home in the place where he’d been raised and lived until he was a young man. And although she missed California, this was home now. And she wasn’t about to let that life be derailed by a gorgeous man with sexy green eyes. No chance.
Callie loved yard sales. Late Sunday morning, after her last student left, she snatched a few twenty dollar bills from her desk drawer and whistled Tessa to come to heel as she headed for her truck. The dog quickly leapt into the passenger seat.
The drive into Crystal Point took exactly six minutes. The small beachside community boasted a population of just eight hundred residents and sat at the mouth of the Bellan River, one of the most pristine waterways in the state. On the third Sunday of every month the small community hosted a “trunk and treasure” sale, where anyone who had something to sell could pull up their car, open the trunk and offer their wares to the dozens of potential buyers who rolled up.
The sale was in full swing and Callie parked a hundred yards up the road outside the local grocery store. She opened a window for Tessa then headed inside to grab a soda before she trawled for bargains. The bell dinged as she stepped across the threshold. The shop was small, but crammed with everything from fishing tackle to beach towels and grocery items. There was also an ATM and a pair of ancient fuel pumps outside that clearly hadn’t pumped fuel for years.
“Good morning, Callie.”
“Hi, Linda,” she greeted the fifty-something woman behind the counter, who was hidden from view by a tall glass cabinet housing fried food, pre-packaged sandwiches and cheese-slathered hot dogs.
She picked out a soda and headed for the counter.
Linda smiled. “I hear you had a run-in with Noah Preston yesterday.”
Noah? Was that his name? He’d probably told her when he’d made arrangements for his daughter’s lessons, but Callie had appalling recall for names. Noah. Warmth pooled low in her belly. I don’t have any interest in that awful man. And she wasn’t about to admit she’d spent the past twenty-four hours thinking about him.
“Good news travels fast,” she said and passed over a twenty dollar note.
Linda took the money and cranked the register. “In this place news is news. I only heard because my daughter volunteers as a guard at the surf beach.”
Callie took the bait and her change. “The surf beach?”
“Well, Cameron was there. He told her all about it.”
He did? “Who’s Cameron?”
Linda tutted as though Callie should know exactly who he was. “Cameron Jakowski. He and Noah are best friends.”
Callie couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be friends with Noah Preston.
“Cameron volunteers there, too,” she said, and Callie listened, trying to not lose track of the conversation. “Noah used to, but he’s too busy with all his kids now.”
“So this Cameron told your daughter what happened?”
“Yep. He said you and Noah had an all-out brawl. Something to do with that eldest terror of his.”
“It wasn’t exactly a brawl,” Callie explained. “More like a disagreement.”
“I heard he thinks you should be shut down,” Linda said odiously, her voice dropping an octave.
Callie’s spine stiffened. Not again. When she’d caught the Trent sisters smoking in the stables, Sonya Trent had threatened the same thing. “What?”
“Mmm,” Linda said. “And it only takes one thing to go wrong to ruin a business, believe me. One whiff of you being careless around the kids and you can kiss the place goodbye.”
Callie felt like throwing up. Her business meant everything to her. Her horses, her home. “I didn’t do anything,” she protested.
Linda made a sympathetic face. “Of course you didn’t, love. But I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you had because of that little hellion.” Linda sighed. “That girl’s been nothing but trouble since her—”
The conversation stopped abruptly when the bell pealed and a woman, dressed in a pair of jeans and a vivid orange gauze blouse, walked into the shop. Black hair curled wildly around her face and bright green eyes regarded Callie for a brief moment.
“Hello, Linda,” she said and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the fridges.
“Evie, good to see you. Are you selling at the trunk sale today?” Linda asked.
Her dancing green eyes grew wide. “For sure,” she said and paid her money. “My usual stuff. But if you hear of anyone wanting a big brass bed, let me know. I’m renovating one of the upstairs rooms and it needs to go. Catch you later.”
She hurried from the shop and Linda turned her attention back to Callie.
“That’s Evie Dunn,” Linda explained. “She runs a bed and breakfast along the waterfront. You can’t miss it. It’s the big A-frame place with the monstrous Norfolk pines out the front. She’s an artist and sells all kinds of crafting supplies, too. You should check it out.”
Callie grimaced and then smiled. “I’m not really into handicrafts.”
Linda’s silvery brows shot up. “Noah Preston is her brother.”
Of course. No wonder those green eyes had looked so familiar. Okay, maybe now she was a little interested. Callie grabbed her soda and left the shop. So, he wanted her shut down, did he?
She drove the truck in the car park and leashed Tessa. There were more than thirty cars and stalls set up, and the park was teeming with browsers and buyers. It took Callie about three minutes to find Evie Dunn. The pretty brunette had a small table laid out with craft wares and costume jewelry.
She wandered past once and then navigated around for another look.
“Are you interested in scrapbooking?” Evie Dunn asked on her third walk by.
Callie stalled and eased Tessa to heel. She took a step toward the table and shrugged. “Not particularly.”
Black brows rose sharply. “Are you interested in a big brass bed?”
Callie shook her head. “Ah, I don’t think so.”
Evie planted her hands on her hips. “Then I guess you must be interested in my brother?”
Callie almost hyperventilated. “What do you—”
“You’re Callie, right?” The other woman asked and thrust out her hand. “I saw the name of your riding school on the side of your truck. I’m Evie. Lily told me all about you. You made quite an impression on my niece, which is not an easy feat. From what she told me, I’m certain she still wants you as her riding instructor.”
There was no chance that was going to happen. “I don’t think it’s up to Lily.”
“Made you mad, did he?”
Callie took a step forward and shook her hand. “You could say that.”
Evie, whose face was an amazing mix of vivid color—green eyes and bright cherry lips—stared at her with a thoughtful expression that said she was being thoroughly summed up. “So, about the brass bed?” she asked and smiled. “Would you like to see it?”
Brass bed? Callie shook her head. Hadn’t she already said she wasn’t interested? “I don’t think—”
“You’ll love it,” Evie insisted. “I can take you to look at it now if you like. Help me pack up and we can get going.”
Callie began to protest and then stopped. She was pretty sure they weren’t really talking about a bed. This was Noah Preston’s sister. And because he had quickly become enemy number one, if she had a lick of sense she’d find out everything she could about him and use it to her advantage. If Noah thought she would simply sit back and allow him to ruin her reputation, he could certainly think again. Sandhills Farm was her life. If he wanted a war, she’d give him one.
Chapter Two (#u418be5ea-a9d5-52b7-a196-c52cb9116728)
Noah didn’t know how to reach out to his angry daughter. He hurt for her. A deep, soul-wrenching hurt that transcended right through to his bones. But what could he do? Her sullen, uncommunicative moods were impossible to read. She skulked around the house with her eyes to the floor, hiding behind her makeup, saying little, determined to disassociate herself from the family he tried so frantically to keep together.
And she pined for the mother who’d abandoned her without a backward glance.
She’d deny it, of course. But Noah knew. It had been more than four years ago. Four and a half long years and they all needed to move on.
Yeah, right … like I’ve moved on?
He liked to think so. Perhaps not the way his parents or sisters thought he should have. But he’d managed to pull together the fractured pieces of the life his ex-wife discarded. He had Preston Marine, the business his grandfather created and which he now ran, his kids, his family and friends. It was enough. More than enough.
Most of the time.
Except for the past twenty-four hours.
Because as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t stop thinking about the extraordinarily beautiful Callie Jones and her glittering blue eyes. And the way she’d planted her hands on her hips. And the sinful way she’d filled out her jeans. For the first time in forever he felt a spark of attraction. More than a spark. It felt like a damned raging inferno, consuming him with its heat.
Noah stacked the dishes he’d washed and dried his hands, then checked his watch. He was due at Evie’s around two o’clock; he’d promised her he’d help shift some furniture. Evie loved rearranging furniture.
Within ten minutes they were on their way. Hayley and Matthew, secured in their booster seats, chatted happily to each other while Jamie sat in the front beside Noah. His one-hundred-and-forty acre farm was only minutes out of Crystal Point and was still considered part of the small town. He’d bought the place a couple of years earlier, for a song of a price, from an elderly couple wanting to retire after farming sugar cane for close to fifty years. The cane was all but gone now, and Noah leased the land to a local farmer who ran cattle.
He dropped speed along The Parade, the long road separating the houses from the shore, and pulled up outside his sister’s home. There was a truck parked across the road, a beat-up blue Ford that looked familiar. He hauled Hayley into his arms, grabbed Matty’s hand and allowed Jamie to seize the knapsack from the backseat and then race on ahead. The kids loved Evie’s garden, with its pond and stone paved walkways, which wound in tracks to a stone wishing well. And Noah kind of liked it, too.
“Look, Daddy … it’s that dog,” Jamie said excitedly, running toward a happy-looking pup tied to a railing near the front veranda.
The dog looked as familiar to him as the truck parked outside. His stomach did a stupid leap.
She’s here? What connection did Callie Jones have to Evie? Before he could protest, Jamie was up the steps, opening the front door and calling his aunt’s name.
Noah found them in the kitchen. Evie was cutting up pineapple and she was sitting at the long scrubbed table, cradling a mug in her hands. She looked up when he entered the room and smiled. A killer smile. A smile with enough kick to knock the breath from his chest. He wondered if she knew she had it, if she were aware how flawless her skin looked or how red and perfectly bowed her lips were. The hat was gone and her brown hair hung over one shoulder in a long braid.
Discomfort raced through him. Noah shifted Hayley on his hip and hung on tightly to Matty’s hand. She looked him over, he looked her over. Something stirred, rumbling through his blood, taunting him a little.
Evie cleared her throat and broke the silence. “Well,” she said. “How about I take the kids outside and you two can … talk?”
Noah didn’t want to talk with her. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to drag himself away.
Callie Jones had walked into his life. And he was screwed.
Callie couldn’t speak. They were twins. Twins. Who looked to be about … four years old?
The same age as Ryan would have been …
She smiled—she wasn’t sure how—and watched him hold the twins with delightful affection. He looked like Father of the Year. And he was, according to his sister. A single dad raising four children. A good man. The best.
A heavy feeling grew in her chest, filling her blood, sharpening her breath.
The children disappeared with Evie, and once they were alone she stood and flicked her braid down her back. He watched every movement, studying her with such open regard she couldn’t stop a flush from rising over her skin.
I shouldn’t want him to look at me like that.
Not this man who had quickly become the enemy.
“I didn’t expect to see you …” he said, then paused. “So soon.”
She inhaled deeply. “I guess you didn’t. Frankly, I didn’t want to see you.”
His green eyes held her captive. “And yet you’re here in my sister’s house?”
Callie tilted her chin. “I’m looking at a bed.”
The word bed quickly stirred up a whole lot of awareness between them. It was bad enough she thought the man was gorgeous—her blasted body had to keep reminding her of the fact!
“A bed?”
“Yes.” Callie took another breath. Longer this time because she needed it. “You know, one of those things to sleep on.”
That got him thinking. “I know what a bed is,” he said quietly. “And what it’s used for.”
I’ll just bet you do!
Callie turned red from her braid to her boots. “But now that I am here, perhaps you’d like to apologize?”
“For what?” He looked stunned.
For being a gorgeous jerk. “For being rude yesterday.”
“Wait just a—”
“And for telling people my school should be closed down.”
“What?”
“Are you denying it? I mean, you threatened me,” she said, and as soon as the words left her mouth she felt ridiculous.
