Ashes by the Shore (Deep River #2)

Chapter 1

B uttercup Glow.

Was it supposed to be so…yellow? Polly Mack wrinkled her nose.

Yes, it was yellow paint, but she’d been going for a light, sunny kind of shade. Petie, the guy at the store, had described the shade as soft and warm. He’d even used the word “golden.”

This wasn’t golden. It reminded her of old butter. Or mustard.

She picked up her cell to text her best friend.

Polly: I hate it.

Maggie: What do you mean? Petie said your office would look like a sunrise.

Polly: He lied. And I almost feel compelled to go and tell him.

Not now. It was nearly six and the place was closed. But tomorrow she’d be giving that man a piece of her mind.

Not that this was entirely his fault. Maybe to Petie, this shade was soft and warm. Maybe this was Petie’s kind of yellow.

Maggie: If you still hate it tomorrow, I will storm down to that hardware store with you and demand a refund.

She chuckled. That was exactly why Maggie was her best friend. She was the hide-a-body kind of friend. The tell-me-where-to-dig instead of why-do-we-need-a-hole.

Polly glanced at the wall again.

It was worse. How was it worse?

Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe in the light of the morning, it would look better.

Or maybe it was the angle.

She stepped back. Her foot kicked over the open paint can.

Shit .

Quickly, she lifted it, but it was too late. Half the contents had spilled out over the drop cloth.

Great. Her cozy little evening of painting the office of Bloom was going just great. All she needed now was?—

Her phone rang.

There it was.

She slid the phone from the pocket of her white overalls to see it was exactly who she thought. She could let it go to voicemail.

No. Then her mother would just show up at the shop. Olivia Mack was nothing if not persistent when she wanted something.

Argh, she couldn’t look at the yellow anymore anyway.

“Hi, Mom.” She stepped over the spilled paint and moved into the open kitchen.

“Polly, darling, when are you coming over? Jonah and I have your favorite peanut butter brownies ready and waiting.”

“I can’t come over tonight—I told you that.” Although, yes, she would miss the brownies. Dammit.

“When did you tell me?”

“This afternoon when you came into the shop.” She leaned over the counter and scanned The Wandering Bloom.

The lines of books that filled the back shelves, the flower section near the front, currently empty because she was getting a big delivery in the morning.

And the scattered tables, which were filled more often than they were empty.

God, she loved this place. It was her sanctuary. The business she’d built after years of hard work saving for it with no help from anyone.

“I thought you said you’d try to make it work?”

Polly’s gaze moved to the setting sun outside.

“No, I definitely said I couldn’t make it.

” Although she wasn’t surprised her mother hadn’t heard since she’d been distracted by her new fiancé.

A fiancé who, if they got married, would be her mother’s fifth husband.

Fifth . It should sound crazy, but in the world of Olivia Mack, the only crazy thing was being single.

“I was hoping you’d come over because we invited Jonah’s nephew, who I really thought you’d hit it off with.”

Polly wrinkled her nose. Another benefit of avoiding her mother’s house. “Sorry, Mom, I need to go. I’m in the middle of painting.”

“Okay, I’ll pop in tomorrow. Can you save me some?—”

“Orange tulips? You know I always do.”

“Thank you, sweetie. See you tomorrow.”

Polly hung up. She loved her mother, she really did, she just wished the woman wasn’t so reliant on having a man in her life.

Her phone vibrated with a text.

Joel: Hey, Sunshine. Just checking that you’re not doing that workaholic thing you do where you stay at work too late.

Workaholic thing? Did he mean running a successful business?

Why was he even texting her?

On paper, Joel Dawson was everything a woman should be drawn to—cute, smart, a former Navy SEAL who now worked on the town search and rescue team.

But all of that came with a side of cocky and sexist. Not to mention he called her Sunshine because he knew she wasn’t sunshiny. Well, she wasn’t sunshiny to him, at least. And he was annoying. Just the other week, he’d stolen her cinnamon roll from The Pancake Bar. The last cinnamon roll.

She texted back as she returned to the office.

Polly: You’re so sweet to check in on me. I’m actually…oh, wait, I don’t have to tell you because it’s none of your business.

Her lips curved, and she was so pleased with herself and her comment that she didn’t think about where she was stepping. The spilled paint had completely faded from her mind—until her foot slipped through it.

She yelped, her hip hitting the hard floorboards. Then she was on her back, lying in a puddle of ugly paint in Bloom’s office.

What had she done to deserve this? Was it because she wasn’t supportive of her mother marrying a man she’d known for three months? Or maybe because she wasn’t the nicest human to Joel?

With a groan, she rolled over, her palm hitting a squeaky floorboard near the wall. Not just squeaky—moveable.

She jiggled it and, after a bit of maneuvering, it came up.

She frowned at what she saw beneath.

A phone. It was a small, blocky phone. It was black and had a physical keypad instead of a touch screen.

She hit the power button, but of course it didn’t light up. It was completely dead. How long had it been down there? And why was it hidden under the floorboards?

A sound in the café area had her head shooting up. The front door opening? Had she locked the door? She couldn’t remember.

It didn’t matter. Everyone in town knew that Bloom closed at four. No one should be here.

Her skin prickled, unease settling in her belly. Usually, a simple opening door wouldn’t affect her. But two women had gone missing in Deep River in the last twelve months, and a third had been found dead in the forest.

She scanned the room, spotting the broom in the corner. There wasn’t a whole lot of damage she could do with it, but if it was an intruder…hit them hard enough and maybe she could run?

She grabbed the broom and crept to the office door.

The creak of a floorboard sounded from the other room. They were close.

One deep breath—and she lifted the broom and stepped forward at the same time a man walked into the office.

She cried out and swung the broom. Strong fingers wrapped around the wood, but she didn’t stop there. She lifted a knee to nail the guy, but he was too fast, tilting his hips back and stilling her momentum with a palm on her thigh, long masculine fingers wrapping around her.

“Whoa, Sunshine, easy.”

Her gaze swung up to meet two perfect browny-green eyes. Yes, he had brown eyes with green specks.

“Joel? What in the ever-loving hell are you doing breaking into my café?”

“I mean, the door would need to be locked for me to break in. So technically, I just entered the café. Never thought I’d get a greeting like this though.” He grinned, that sexy dimple appearing before he tugged her thigh closer. “I kind of like it.”

Holy shit. Close. Too close.

Fragments of black danced in Polly’s brown eyes, making Joel’s lips twitch. Sure, she was angry, but she was cute when she was angry. Her full lips turned into this pout, and her brows knit together like she wanted to hit him.

He glanced down at the yellow paint coating her thigh…and now his hand. “Did you take a bath in the paint, Sunshine?”

She followed his gaze, then pressed two palms to his chest to give him a big shove.

He released her, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I may have fallen in some paint, which was entirely your fault,” she huffed.

“My fault?”

“Yes. I was reading your text when I slipped.” She grabbed a towel from the pile and started scrubbing at her backside.

His lips twitched at the yellow paint covering her. It ran over her entire back and both thighs. “So, you get so excited by the sight of my name on your screen that you can’t even remain on your feet.”

“If I fell from your text, I was obviously tripping over your ego.”

He threw his head back and laughed, and fuck, it felt good after a tense day at work.

“I don’t even know what you’re doing here,” she grumbled.

“I came to check on you.”

“I don’t need checking on. I’m fine.”

“You’ve got some paint—” He lifted his hand to wipe the smear off her cheek, but she swatted him away. “You’re very prickly tonight.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s called ‘defensive.’ And it’s necessary around you.”

He took a step into the room, the small smile on his face slipping. “You shouldn’t be here after dark. And you shouldn’t be leaving the door unlocked.”

“I didn’t think anyone would break in.”

“No one needs to break in if you don’t lock the door.”

She sighed. “Well, as you can see, I’m okay. Thank you for coming in and forcing me to defend myself with a broom. You’ve done your civic duty. You can go.”

He scanned the paint on the floor. “Need help cleaning up?”

“No.” She wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you.”

Clearly, thanking him killed her, but she’d been raised with manners. “Okay, I’ll leave, but you need to lock up after me and promise to be careful.”

“The three women went missing by the river.”

“The last three.”

She frowned. “What?”

Fuck. He shouldn’t be saying anything about the others. Not yet. “Just promise you’ll lock up after me, Sunshine.”

“If you stop calling me Sunshine.”

His lips twitched. “Can’t make any promises on that.”

She rolled her eyes for a second time, and he fucking loved those eye rolls. He wasn’t even sure why.

He noticed a phone on the floor behind her. It wasn’t a smart phone and it looked old. Not what he’d seen Polly with in the past. “That yours?”

“It is now.” She lifted the cell and pushed it into her pocket.

He frowned, but then she was slipping off her shoes before pushing him out into the kitchen and through the main area.

“You know, if you wanted to touch me, you just had to ask,” he said playfully.

She scoffed. “Are you under the impression you’re God’s gift to all women, or do I get special attention?”

“Do you want special attention?”

When they reached the front door, she opened it. “What I want is for you to go. And if you decide not to come back, that’s okay.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that. You’d miss me too much.”

“Yeah, I’d miss you like mosquitos miss bug zappers.”

He chuckled before leaning down to her ear and whispering, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

There was a small gasp of air from her. He was still smiling when he crossed the street and slipped behind the wheel of his truck.

The smile faded, though, as his mind went back to those missing women. Two missing and another dead.

His fingers tightened around the wheel as he started home. There were others. Five women who’d either gone missing or had been found drugged and dead in the river. The history of unsolved disappearances and deaths in this part of Montana spanned back twenty-five years.

Not one of them had prompted a criminal investigation. Why? Because the joke of a sheriff had marked them all as missing women or accidental drownings.

Shit, he hated that guy. This town deserved better.

As he got close to home, his phone rang. He didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was. The same person who called every day—his mother.

He silenced the call and climbed from the truck.

He’d spent a year in Houston with his parents before coming to Deep River.

An entire fucking year, and he still had no idea why he’d gone there.

His parents were too different from him.

But then, they owned and ran Dawson Energy Services, which brought a level of wealth most people couldn’t dream of.

The neighborhood was quiet around him as he crossed to the front door. He’d barely stepped inside when a black-and-white cat pressed against his leg.

“Hey there.” He lowered and scratched her head. “You know, you don’t need to stay here. There are plenty of other homeowners you can live with.”

He had not signed up to be a cat dad. The thing had just entered his house one day and never left.

Instead of walking out the still-open door, the creature headed toward his kitchen.

Joel followed and grabbed a can of cat food—because yeah, he was buying food for the animal. He emptied it into her bowl.

The cat had just started eating when his phone vibrated with a text.

Ryan: Reminder—gear check tomorrow at 0600. Don’t be late.

Zac: You couldn’t do a gear check at a time when the sun’s awake?

Ryan: I could…I’m not.

Ethan: This is because Joel slept through the last one, isn’t it?

Joel chuckled before responding.

Joel: I didn’t sleep through it. I slept up to it, then arrived fashionably late.

Connor: Or just late.

He set his phone down and grabbed the leftover Chinese from the fridge. He fucking loved his team. They’d served together as SEALs for over a decade, and now they got to work together every day.

Three guys from their team were still in the military—Tate, Linc and Kolby—but Joel was betting on the fact that, once they were done, they’d come to Deep River too. This town had a way of pulling people here.

His phone vibrated again. The smile dropped from his face when he saw it wasn’t his team this time.

Mom: Your father and I have had enough of this, Joel. You need to answer my calls and face the fact that you’re a Dawson, and being a Dawson comes with certain responsibilities.

He dropped the phone like the thing had burned him. It didn’t matter what he said or how he said it, the woman didn’t seem to understand that he wasn’t fitting into their plans. This was his life, and he’d live it on his terms.

When the Chinese was hot, he took it over to the couch. Another text popped onto the screen, this one making him smile.

Polly: I’m leaving Bloom now. Happy?

Joel: You taking the half gallon of paint you’re wearing with you?

An eye roll emoji came back before her text.

Polly: I obviously took the overalls off.

Joel: Does that mean you’re obviously wearing very little?

Polly: You picture me naked and you won’t like what happens next time you see me, Dawson.

He fucking hated it when his mother used his last name. But with Polly, everything felt good.

Joel: You gonna attempt to hit me with a broom and knee me in the balls again?

Polly: Yes, but it will be less of an attempt and more of a bull’s-eye.

He couldn’t help it, he laughed.

Joel: I hope you get home safely, Sunshine.

He really did. There was something so refreshing about her. Back in Houston, everyone knew the kind of money he came from. Hell, even when he wasn’t in Houston, he was still a former SEAL, and that got him a lot of easy attention.

Polly made him work for it. And he liked that.