Chapter 1 #2
It was a strange thing, and Fletcher didn’t begin to understand how the legalities worked. They’d hired a lawyer for that, but outside of possibly dealing with Decker Brown, no one else in this town had their sights set on the old Crab Shack.
However, there was so much more that weighed on Fletcher’s mind. Ken had been their brother-in-arms. They’d been on the same SEAL team for years. They’d been through some shit together and had nearly died together a few times.
Fletcher shook his head like a dog. The last thing he needed was to keep replaying that scene over and over again in his head all day.
A tap on the porch screen door made him jump, nearly sloshing his coffee all over his lap.
He turned his head. “Jesus, Baily. You scared the crap out of me.” He tried to rip his gaze from the gorgeous woman standing at the door.
She wore a pair of loose-fitting blue and white shorts, which he suspected were pajama bottoms, paired with a three-quarter-sleeved matching top.
Her hair flowed past her shoulders, and he knew for a fact she hadn’t combed it.
This was the Baily he’d fallen in love with. The natural beauty, all sweet, but not completely innocent, who used to sneak over and climb into his bed after their parents had gone to sleep.
“Sorry. I saw the light come on.” She held up a paper plate. “I brought you an egg sandwich.”
He chuckled. “You really love that little sandwich maker, now, don’t ya?” He stood, unlatched the door, and let her in. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.” He kissed her cheek. While things between them were still strained, they were better.
At least they’d come to an understanding about life in general and the fact that he was never leaving Calusa Cove, nor was he about to sell his parents’ home.
Unfortunately, the turning point had been when he’d told her the truth about her brother’s death.
Well, not at first. She’d been pissed. Furious, actually. As if he could have saved Ken. As if telling their captors the truth wouldn’t have gotten everyone killed.
But then came…Why Ken? A question no one could answer. And every man on the team, at some point, had wished they could’ve changed places with Ken.
Then again, they had all wanted to trade places with Fletcher. But that was a nightmare he wouldn’t wish on his enemies.
“I have a confession to make.” Baily eased into the other chair—the one that used to be his mom’s.
Fletcher just couldn’t make himself get rid of a single thing in this house. He knew it was strange. Everything was old and uncomfortable. But to him, it represented a big part of his childhood—and not just because of his family.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
“Interesting.” He winked. “Seeing you first thing is always the best way to start my day.”
“You are so corny, and I promised your buddies I’d come check on you.” She waved her hand toward the end table. “Eat your sandwich. You’ve been neglecting yourself lately.”
He frowned, but that wasn’t a false statement, nor was he surprised that Dawson, Keaton, and Hayes had enlisted Baily to keep tabs on him.
The nightmares had been coming almost every night, and that made his stomach churn.
In the last two weeks, he’d lost five pounds.
Most people handled stress by eating. He did so by starving himself.
He’d always been like that. Lucky for him, most of his life hadn’t been riddled by the kind of stress that affected him that way.
The pressure of his military career had gotten to him sometimes. Still, the only way it had ever manifested was by affecting his ability to digest food, especially after those damn flipping nightmares.
He leaned over, unwrapped the breakfast treat, and brought it to his mouth.
It was filled with all his favorites. A warm, fluffy English muffin, stuffed with cheddar cheese, bacon, sausage, and a fried egg that oozed the yellow yolk onto his tongue, accompanied by a dribble of hot sauce while the butter melted into the nooks and crannies of the bread.
“Wow, that’s good. Thank you,” he managed with a mouthful.
“You’re welcome.” She leaned back, folded her arms, and cocked her pretty little head. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
He took another large bite. Honestly, right now, he could eat three of these things. “I got at least five hours, so better than some nights.”
“Are you talking to anyone about the nightmares?” Baily kicked off her flip-flops and tucked her feet under her butt.
“I did before I moved here, but not since then.”
“Have you thought about seeing someone here?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “But honestly, the doctor I saw before told me there might always be triggers.” He pointed toward the journal. “Knowing that Ken lied to me—and you—is doing something to me that I can’t explain.”
“I get it. I do. But we might never know the answers, and I’m starting to come to terms with that, especially since I’ve got bigger problems than what Ken might’ve been doing.
” She pursed her lips. “He was always a bit selfish. Always wanted out of this town. Always wanted to have money in his pockets and to be treated like he mattered. He wanted to be seen in ways I didn’t understand.
It’s exhausting trying to figure it out, and I don’t want to anymore.
Reading Tripp’s thoughts drives that point home. ”
“You don’t wonder if that loan is tied to something your brother might’ve done?” Fletcher asked.
She shook her head. “He never asked my father to sell—only me. I doubt Ken even knew about that loan. One thing my brother hated was being in debt.”
“That’s true.” Fletcher lifted his mug and took a long, slow sip. “So, what are your plans today?” He raised his hand. “Outside of working.”
“Trinity and Chloe invited me to get my nails done.” She lifted her hands and stared at her nails, letting out a hefty sigh.
“I don’t know why women bother with nail polish.
All it does is chip off, and that crap you have to buy to take it off smells horrible.
I’d rather soak my hands in fish guts than spend an hour at the salon. Total waste of time and money.”
Fletcher covered his mouth. Laughing wasn’t an appropriate response, but he couldn’t help it.
She reached for a magazine on the small table next to her chair and tossed it at him. “I have no idea what on earth is so funny.”
He cleared his throat. “Have you ever been to a spa or a salon? I mean, doesn’t Silas’s wife cut your hair at her home?”
“And your point?” she asked softly.
“Dawson mentioned you didn’t go with the girls to get your nails done before the wedding. Why not?”
Baily pointed out the door and toward the faint hum of the marina air conditioners. “I have a business to run, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“You could’ve called me to help out, so you could’ve gone with the girls.”
She lifted her right hand and stared at her nails. “I did a good enough job on my own.”
He knew money was tight, but getting her nails done for a special occasion shouldn’t have been something she’d skipped out on. He had no idea how much a mani-pedi cost, but it couldn’t have been a lot.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She lowered her chin and scowled.
“It’s the same look I get from Silas when I won’t let him slip me a hundred after I help him with a line when he comes in.
He waves his wild hand at me and tells me that’s what he tips the dockhands, but I know, besides Bingo, who’s saving for college, he does no such thing. ”
“Maybe not, but you’re a stubborn woman, and while being proud is a virtue I can get behind, there’s no reason you can’t accept a little kindness from those who love you,” he said as the morning sun peeked out from the horizon. “Silas really does care about you and the success of this marina.”
“I’m not a charity case, and Silas finds ways to slip that money right under my door.” She shook her head and laughed. “I don’t insult him. I keep it. I’ve started a little fund in case whoever owns that loan decides to force my hand.”
Fletcher had people working on figuring out who actually owned that loan, but the names were buried under a labyrinth of corporations and LLCs. Not to mention, she’d have to come up with close to a million dollars. What had her dad been thinking by borrowing that kind of money from strangers?
Part of him still believed that Decker Brown had had something to do with it.
That he was still watching and waiting for the right time to make his move.
He’d approached Keaton twice and Hayes once, regarding the property on the canal, but he hadn’t made an offer.
Decker had only asked questions. They had been questions that made everyone wonder if he was interested, but he’d never made an offer, and when confronted, Decker had shrugged and said he was only trying to make friends.
No one believed that.
However, Decker had been coming around for the last four months, and he had shown great interest in Baily.
He had occasionally mentioned the marina and sometimes pressed her about whether things were that hard, why hadn’t she packed it up and done something else.
He’d always raised his hands and told her that he was simply trying to be a good friend and that he had ideas if she ever wanted to hear them.
Fletcher and the team had thought long and hard about letting Baily entertain the conversation, but they didn’t want to put her in that position.
She’d been bullied before about selling the marina, and she had no desire to do it, no matter how tough things got.
Fletcher stood by her decision. He understood the importance of holding onto family legacies.
All he wanted was for Baily to climb out from under the mountain of debt her old man had left her, but that was a tall order.
That brought his thoughts right back to Decker. If he wanted the property, what was he waiting for? The only thing he’d shown real interest in was the Crab Shack. It all seemed so strange. None of the pieces fit, nice and neat. They couldn’t connect anything—or anyone—to the loans.
Decker seemed benign, which pissed Fletcher off. He wanted to hate the man.
And then there was Ken and his secrets and lies, and Fletcher had no idea how deep they went. Or why Ken had kept them.
“You’re deep in thought,” Baily said as she moved to the edge of the ottoman. She lifted his feet and placed them on her lap. Her fingers curled around his ankles and rubbed gently. She’d always had magic hands. “What are you thinking about?”
“You.” He leaned forward, lifting her chin with his index finger.
He stared into her warm gaze, watching her lashes flutter over her damn freaking beautiful blue eyes.
He could get lost in those pools. He pressed his mouth to hers, and a faint moan escaped her throat.
Wrapping his arms around her body, he deepened the kiss. It felt so good to…
Knock. Knock.
He jerked his head back, breathless.
Baily stared at him with wide eyes, as if she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
Dawson stood at the door, his fingers looped into his weapon belt, his stance wide, and a smile the size of Texas. “Real sorry to interrupt that. But I was driving by when Bingo waved me down because he couldn’t find Baily.” Dawson pointed his finger. “Did you spend the night here?”
“I did not.” She folded her arms. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Dawson chuckled. “Maybe not, but based on the way you’re both dressed and that lip lock, it was a safe guess.”
“Cut the crap.” Fletcher stood, scratching the center of his bare chest. “Is there a problem?”
“Yeah.” Dawson nodded, and his face quickly sobered. “Though, I’m not sure how big.”
Baily jumped to her feet and grabbed Fletcher’s arm.
“What happened? Is Bingo okay? He was scheduled to open the docks and marina this morning. I’m usually down there pretty early.
” She turned, bent over, and snagged her cell, staring at the screen.
“It’s just six, so we’re literally just opening now,” she said.
“Crap, my phone must be on silent because Bingo tried to text me twice and he called once.”
“He also knocked on the upstairs apartment before he waved me down,” Dawson said. “The lock on the pump wasn’t secure when he got to the docks this morning, and now there’s no gas. Bingo swears he locked it last night. I’d like your permission to look at the security cameras.”
“Yeah, of course.” She let out a long breath.
“I can’t function without gas going into the weekend, and I don’t know if I can get a rush delivery,” she said.
“Much less afford it.” She rubbed her temples.
“Bingo might be a young kid, but he’s one of the best, hardworking people I have.
I can’t imagine he’d just plumb forget.”
“Are you still keeping the cameras running all the time?” Dawson asked.
“I check them every few days,” she said. “It’s not the most high-tech system, but it works, and Fletcher updates the software for me when necessary.”
Fletcher pulled open the door. “Let’s go take a look and see what it reveals.
” He had to agree with her assessment of Bingo.
He wasn’t the kind of kid who made a big mistake like that.
However, things happened, mistakes were made, but even if he had forgotten to lock up the pump, it didn’t explain how close to five thousand gallons of gas had vanished into thin air.