Chapter Four
REID
I’M NOT SURE what I was expecting when I saw the cute, petite blonde sneaking into the research center, but it wasn’t this.
I’d planned to meet her at The Drift Net in less than an hour, and it hadn’t occurred to me that she’d look like someone capable of knocking my focus sideways.
Outsiders are pretty easy to spot in Tidehaven, and Dr. Emery Caldwell has outsider written all over her.
It takes a minute for me to find my voice as I take her in.
She’s a tiny thing. I’ve easily got a foot on her small frame.
She has blond hair so light it’s almost white hanging down her back in waves, sweat dampening her hairline.
Big blue eyes stare expectantly at me through round wire-rimmed glasses.
“And you are?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at me.
I slowly rake my gaze up her body and meet her eyes, stifling a cough.
“I’m Reid—Reid Morgan. We were supposed to meet in half an hour.” I keep my voice level, trying to push down the sound of irritation. I’m not sure if I’m irritated by her impatience to get inside the building or by my visceral reaction to her attractiveness. I wasn’t expecting her to be hot.
“Oh, right.” Emery shoots me with an awkward smile then winces. “I was just…trying to get the lay of the land before going to meet you.” She shifts uncomfortably. “The door was open so…” She lets her voice trail off with a meek shrug.
“I am in and out between here and the marina. I don’t always lock up during the day.
” I step around the table separating us.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break in though.
” I fish a key ring out of my pocket, twisting a shiny gold key off it and handing it to her.
“This is the place. This is your key. Got any questions?”
Emery pushes her tongue in the side of her mouth and squints, examining me. “Yeah. What’s your job?”
I let out a low chuckle. It’s a fair question but one I don’t really know how to answer. “I’m part owner of the marina, and I do a little bit of everything. But here? You can call me the maintenance guy.”
“Oookay.” Emery turns from me, her attention already elsewhere. She walks the perimeter of the room, trailing her hands along the wall before pausing to skim the tide maps on the corkboards.
I will my brain to stop checking her out.
It has been a while, but I don’t date and definitely not the woman in town to run this research center.
That has bad idea written all over it. Still, she is clear-eyed and purposeful as she acquaints herself with the lab.
I can already tell she’s the kind of woman whose intelligence shows up in the confident way she carries herself.
And damn if I’m not drawn to her like a magnet, despite every warning I’ve given myself.
Emery stops walking and catches my gaze.
“Do you happen to know if the former director left anything behind?”
“Left anything behind?” I repeat. “She uh… She died.” I catch the melancholy in my own voice.
Emery shifts awkwardly. “I heard that… I just, I heard before she died, she was studying turtles, and I love terrapins. I thought I’d try to pick up where she left off.”
I gesture behind me to a short hallway. “Her office was back there. I guess it’s your office now, so anything you find in there, I would imagine is up for grabs.” I scratch my jaw, casting my gaze down the dimly lit hall.
Emery nods, letting out a breath. “Got it.”
I’m just about to ask if she needs anything else, if we need to bother with The Drift Net when the door to the screened porch swings open.
“Reid?” Kayla’s voice echoes. “Are you here? Is she here?”
I roll my eyes but call back, “In here, Kayla.”
Emery turns just as Kayla walks in the room. Her khaki shorts are stained—probably with marsh muck, her Hollow Creek High T-shirt is cut off at the sleeves, and her curly dark hair is piled high on the top of her head. Her wader boots leave wet, muddy footprints all over the dark floor.
“Jesus, Kayla,” I say when I see the mess. I gesture in the direction of the porch. “Go take those off. I just mopped these floors.”
Kayla grimaces. “Sorry.” Then she looks at Emery. “I’ll be right back.”
She slips out as fast as she came in, and I busy myself wiping the sludge off the black tile floor. “That’s Kayla,” I say as I work. “She’s been very excited to meet you.” That one sentence is more words than I’ve uttered to anyone in weeks.
Kayla dashes back into the room, wearing a pair of flip flops this time.
She marches right up to Emery and holds out her hand.
“My name is Kayla Cruz. I love marine biology, and I’ve been using this lab for two years now.
I would love if you’d continue to allow me to use it, and I’d be happy to help you with any projects you’re working on. ”
Kayla speaks so quickly I’m not sure she takes a breath.
“Smooth, kid,” I mutter, tossing the dirty paper towels in the trash.
Emery grins, taking Kayla’s outstretched hand into both of hers. “Hi Kayla, it’s so nice to meet you.”
“So, can I stay?” Kayla is doing that bouncing on her toes thing again.
“Of course you can use the lab. And I’ll let you know if I have anything you can help with.” Emery reaches in a black purse and pulls out a business card. “My phone number is on here. Call me any time.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Kayla squeals.
Emery lets out a small laugh and glances my way. “Does…anyone else use the lab?”
“Currently, no. It’s been me and Kayla for the past six months while the university looked for a replacement.” I hold up my hands. “We’re a quiet pair.”
The three of us stand in a brief uncomfortable silence that is broken by the sound of a loud stomach growling. Emery’s cheeks flush pink. She swallows, and I find my eyes drawn to her throat, her clavicle, the gentle curve to her shoulder.
“Sorry,” she mutters, raking a hand through her hair. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten. Know anywhere good?”
“Oooh!” Kayla interjects before I can. “I’ll take you to The Salty Spoon.”
I give her a tight smile, quirking my eyebrows upward. “There you go.”
“Salty Spoon it is.” Emery picks up her bag and follows Kayla toward the screened porch. “Thanks, Reid,” she says over her shoulder.
“See you around, Doc.”
I’M ON MY porch in my favorite place, sipping my favorite beer, when my phone dings. It’s got to be Tate because he hasn’t checked in yet and I’m sure he’s itching for details.
Tate: Dude, I didn’t see you at the Net. Did you forget to meet the director lady?
I shove my phone back in my pocket. Tate knows me better than that. I’m nothing if not reliable. I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.
I take a long pull of my beer and look out over the marshes.
The mid-afternoon sun is hiding behind a cloud, herons are diving for fish.
The call of a gull in the distance puts me at ease.
This right here is why I chose to build my cabin just beyond the marsh.
Nature is peaceful. I close my eyes, resting my head on the back of the rocking chair.
My cabin isn’t far from the Blackbird Cottage that I know Doctor Emery Caldwell is staying in, but I didn’t let on to her that we’re neighbors.
That’s not my style. I’m a quiet observer.
Still, she doesn’t look like the type to live in an area that is this remote.
She doesn’t seem soft exactly, but maybe unused to being this far from a lot of people.
And yet she moved through the lab like she’s already decided she belongs here, nerves and all. That contradiction kept my attention.
I’m going to be seeing a lot of her, and I can’t help wondering what would bring a woman like her to the lowcountry—or what she’s running away from.
The beeping of a horn startles me as Tate’s white Dodge Ram crunches up my gravel drive. I rise and grab him a beer from my cooler as he kills the engine.
“I texted you,” he says, climbing out of his truck.
“I know,” I grumble, handing him the sweating bottle.
“Well, did you meet the director?” Tate cracks the bottle open on my deck railing.
“Yeah.” I sit back down in my chair.
Tate drops into the one beside me. “And?” He tips his beer toward me, eyebrows raising.
“She doesn’t look like a doctor.”
“What does she look like?” He leans back, squinting at me before taking a long pull from his bottle.
I roll the cold glass between my palms, my lips twitching. “A naughty professor.”
Tate barks out a laugh. “Stop it, dude. She hot?”
I don’t answer right away, instead fixing my eyes on the marsh. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Well, good thing you forgot how to talk to people.” He rocks backward in his chair, draining his beer in one last long gulp.
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“Well, how’d it go?” Tate asks, presumably tired of waiting for me to volunteer information.
“Was fine.” I shrug. “She broke into the research center before I could even meet her at the Net.” I shake my head. “She’s curious. Asked questions I don’t have the answers to. Seemed thrilled with Kayla.”
Tate lets out a breath and stands, leaving the empty beer bottle on the arm of his chair. “Good. She’ll be fine.”
I frown, pressing my lips together. “I know. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“No reason.” Tate shrugs before jogging back down my steps. “See you tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Bright and early.”