6. Callum
SIX
CALLUM
I had to stop her.
Irritation rolled through me as I watched my new neighbor leap off the top step of her porch and skip—yes, skip—across the lawn toward a truck that came to a stop near the road.
For whatever reason, my new, unwelcome neighbor had burrowed under my skin.
More times than I liked to admit, I found myself peeking out of the kitchen window toward the little crumbling cottage.
Neither the storm nor the raccoons had scared her off yet, and I was starting to worry that nothing might get her to leave.
She wore dark, straight-leg denim, cuffed at the ankle, and a simple white T-shirt, streaked with dirt.
Sunlight caught in her brown hair, highlighting strands of gold that wove through her soft curls.
She threw her head back in laughter at something the man said.
Despite my distance, I imagined the sound was bright and bubbly, the kind of laughter that had a melodic quality and tickled the hairs on the back of your neck.
Ideally, her laugh would be an ugly, grating sound like a honking goose or a wet, wheezing sound .
I laughed to myself at the mental image of those sounds coming from her as I rinsed a plate and stacked it into the industrial-size dishwasher.
“What, or should I say who , has got you smiling like that?” Helen’s voice was laced with humor as it floated over my shoulder.
I fixed my face and wiped my hands on a dish towel before turning toward her. “I’m not smiling.”
A disbelieving snort pushed out of her nose. “Of course not.” She looked at the stack of dishes neatly arranged in the dishwasher. “I thought Levi was taking care of that this morning.”
“Yeah, well ...” I sighed. “Me too.”
Helen knew I was struggling to connect with him lately. For the past few months it seemed like my little boy was slipping further and further away and there wasn’t a damn thing I could seem to do about it. The more I pushed for connection, the more he pulled away, retreating further into himself.
The boy needed structure. Discipline. Trouble was, the last thing he wanted was to hear it from me.
She came up beside me, patting the back of my shoulder. “It’s all a phase. The good parts as well as the not-so-good parts. Don’t forget that.”
Levi used to follow me around like my shadow. Now? I felt like a stranger in my own damn house. Like I was watching my kid slip through my fingers and had no clue how to grab hold of him before he was gone entirely.
I hung my head, letting the weight of it settle over me. “I got it.” I offered a halfhearted smile. “Thanks, Helen.”
She shooed me away from the sink with a flick of her wrist. “Now go on. Get out of here. Aren’t you supposed to be taking the morning off?” She raised an accusatory eyebrow.
One day a week Helen left early to attend a meeting with the Keepers, and I filled in at the front desk if other staff weren’t available to greet our guests.
The Star Harbor Historical Society was a women’s group that had been going strong in Star Harbor since the late eighteen hundreds.
Informally known as the Keepers, they were a pillar in our small community, bringing in fresh ideas, helping small businesses, and acting as the record keepers for all things related to the Lady of the Dunes—though no one outside of the group actually knew what went on during those meetings.
I looked at Helen and offered a small smile. It was nice that she had an active social life outside of the inn.
At least one of us did .
I never knew what to do with myself outside of work and wrangling Levi. “I’m going,” I surrendered, hanging the hand towel off the handle of the dishwasher to dry.
By the time I got to my room, I’d decided on a run to clear my head. A run was a good idea. I needed to shake loose the tightness in my chest, the kind that had been building. It had absolutely nothing to do with my chances of snooping on my new neighbor to see what she was up to.
After changing into a white T-shirt and running shorts, I laced up my shoes and headed out the side door.
The path that ran between my property and the farm was quiet, and I shoved down the little pang of disappointment when I didn’t see her right away.
The cottage was dark inside, with no signs of movement.
I pushed myself, running harder than necessary, simply to clear my mind.
It could be yours if you wanted it.
Ever since Stan mentioned, offhand like it was nothing, that he could see me purchasing the land someday, I’d foolishly assumed that was the plan.
Sure, it wasn’t official—nothing on paper, no formal offer—but it didn’t need to be.
I thought Stan had trusted me. I figured that when he was really ready to step back, I’d be the one to step in.
I could have jumped at the chance to expand, but instead I’d hesitated.
A flush of frustration ran through me.
That land was a piece of this town’s backbone.
It wasn’t meant to be somebody’s pet project or another half-baked dream.
Stan was well past retirement age—there was no way he could manage a fully operational farm again.
If she thought she could waltz in and treat it like some cash-cow side hustle, she had another thing coming.
The old man was at risk of someone taking advantage of him. He was smart, but too kind and trusting. My jaw clenched as I thought about the newcomer pulling one over on Stan.
While she didn’t appear to be the cold, heartless type, I knew looks could be deceiving. It didn’t matter that the woman appeared to be a complicated mixture of cool confidence and warm smiles, wrapping around you like impenetrable sunshine.
It annoyed the fuck out of me.
I strayed from my usual route to swing across the landscape and atop a hill that overlooked the farm.
Tucked into the far corner, Stan’s house stood like a testament to the man himself.
It had been built in the sixties, and though Stan and Karen had breathed new life into the home, its simple, single-story structure and warm brick exterior remained largely unchanged.
I liked that.
I frowned at the new activity that was underway. My gut twisted. That should be me out there. Since our talk, I had been waiting for the right moment to speak to Stan about purchasing the farmland—but I’d waited too damn long. Now he appeared fully invested in giving it a facelift because of her.
In the old pumpkin patch, laborers were hunched over, clearing the unruly area with nothing but hand tools and backbreaking effort. If it were me, I would have taken a plow to the entire area.
Started fresh.
It was strange to see so much activity on the long-forgotten farmland. My quiet corner of Star Harbor, disturbed by a naive woman with a determined glint in her eye.
I scanned the faces of the workers, curious whether she was out there among them.
I scoffed. It wouldn’t have surprised me. She seemed like the bleeding-heart type.
Determined to run her out of my mind, I forced my legs to get moving again.
Curiosity piqued, I wasn’t above a little trespassing and ran right through Star Harbor Farm to get a closer look at whatever else she was orchestrating.
Outside of attempting to clear the pumpkin patch, everything else looked like the same, neglected farmland.
Holding that knowledge, the last leg of my run was infused with fresh confidence. I pushed harder, ran faster, all with a lightness in each step. There was no way in hell she could pull off whatever scheme she thought she was cooking.
I made a mental note to call my financial planner to discuss my options.
Revitalized farm or not, Stan was still getting older and couldn’t hold on to it forever.
I needed to get my ducks in a row if I planned a full-on hostile takeover and to purchase it before she could.
Hell, I had no idea whether that was her plan, but money talked.
I needed a handle on the situation before that woman ruined everything for me.
My steps faltered when I circled back toward the inn and saw Wes’s truck parked in front of her cottage. Chest heaving, I used my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead and scanned the area. Soon the pair came into view and my jaw clenched.
She and Wes walked, side by side, rounding the cottage and coming to a stop in front of the porch steps. She beamed up at him with her bright smile, and something heavy twisted in my gut. Wes was explaining something, his arm sweeping wide to gesture at the cottage.
With her face tipped toward the sun, she reached out to playfully brush her hand against his forearm. Her laughter floated over the lake breeze, sweet and melodic.
I knew it.
A sharp, ugly twist coiled in my gut, like I’d swallowed a mouthful of something sour. I didn’t know what irritated me more—how easy she made everything look, or the fact that Wes seemed to be eating it up.
Her attention snagged on me, standing at the edge of the grass, staring like some unhinged madman. Wes must have noticed, because soon he was turning and looking at me too.
His face split into a wide grin as he raised his hand. “Cal.”
I shook my head, cursing myself for not minding my own business, and walked toward them. I kept my attention on Wes, but I could feel her stare boring into the side of my face .
I held out my hand. “Morning. What brings you around?”
“Work.” Wes owned his own construction company, and, given the state of the cottage, it was safe to assume he was being hired to help fix it up. “You know Elodie?”
The woman’s voice cut through our conversation. “Hello, Callum.”
My eyes whipped to hers. How the hell did she know my name?
The sound of my name coming from her mouth landed like a sucker punch—familiar, like she knew me. Like she had the right to say it with the perfect amount of husky teasing.
My frown deepened as her name rolled around inside my head. No fucking way. “Elodie ... as in Hayes’s sister Elodie?” Not only had someone swooped in and hijacked the future I’d been counting on—but it was Hayes’s sister? That made it so much worse.
My friend was the oldest sibling in his family and often mentioned his sisters. I had met Selene and Kit, who lived in town, but only knew Elodie and Clara by name.
Her thin-lipped smile was strained. “That would be me. I didn’t know you knew Hayes.”
My answer was clipped. “Very well, actually.”
Hayes was one of the best men I knew. He had good judgment. Smart instincts. But if he thought his sister belonged here, fixing up a farm she had no business touching, maybe he wasn’t as sharp as I thought.
She scoffed, a light disgusted noise rattling in the back of her delicate throat. “Not that well, apparently.”
Between us, Wes chuckled, and his hand clamped onto my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I’ve got my work cut out for me. ”
My eyes didn’t leave Elodie’s, but I grunted, knowing exactly what he meant.
With a shake of his head, Wes turned back to Elodie. “I’ll send a quote in a few days and you can decide if you’d like to move forward. You’ve got my number.”
Her face morphed into pure sweetness. “Thank you, Wes.”
He nodded. “Anytime, Ellie.” He turned to me, my face souring at his use of a nickname for her. “See you at the game.”
I nodded, trying to scrape together the remaining bits of my sanity. When Wes was back in the cab of his truck, I turned to her. “How do you know my name?”
A slim shoulder lifted as her chin rose. “I know more than you think.” Her bored expression was a challenge I couldn’t back away from.
I leaned forward, ever so slightly using my height to my advantage. “This is my town.”
This time, a genuine laugh cracked out of her, taking me by surprise. “Okay,” she mocked.
I narrowed my eyes. “You can roll your eyes all you want, but I’ve been here long enough to know when someone’s in over their head,” I grumbled, fists clenched.
“No. No, by all means, please claim the town that I grew up in as your town .” Her fingers curled into air quotes, and she laughed again.
Knowing full well I was acting like a gigantic baby, I doubled down. “You don’t know the first thing about running a farm.”
Her mouth parted like she was about to argue, but I caught it—the flicker of something behind her sharp green eyes. A challenge. A dare. Like she wanted me to underestimate her just so she could prove me wrong .
Her arms crossed, pushing her tits higher beneath the thin white T-shirt. “I don’t need to run it. I need to rescue it. Besides, I can learn anything.”
Her unbridled confidence was astounding. Elodie fully believed every word. My life had taught me that even with the best of intentions, sometimes life still grabbed you by the balls.
I shrugged, crossing my arms and looking down at the gorgeous, infuriating neighbor. “Fix up the place, I don’t care. All that means is less work for me when it comes time to buy it. I’ll be taking it over when this little side quest of yours fails.”
Her jaw set, her whole body humming with defiance.
I’d known plenty of dreamers who thought they could outwork reality, and I knew exactly how their stories ended.
It was just a matter of time before the shine wore off, before the hard parts set in and she packed her bags. I wasn’t wrong about her. Not yet.
Fire blazed in her green eyes. “You are a self-righteous asshole.”
I let my gaze wander lazily over her shoulder to the run-down house behind her. I smirked, slow and deliberate, because I knew it would piss her off more. “And you’re a stubborn pain in the ass who’s in over her head.”
Her stance widened, like she was squaring off despite our significant size difference. “I’ll prove you wrong.”
My cheek twitched. There was something fun about poking this particular bear. “You can certainly try.”
She was fire and fight, all wrapped up in one frustratingly beautiful package. And if she wanted a war? I’d give her one.
I shook my head. Once upon a time I might have been tempted to see this gorgeous, feisty woman as a friend and ally.
She had walked in and disrupted everything. If she wanted to play farmer, fine —I’d let her, but when she crashed and burned? I’d be there, ready to take back what should have been mine.
She may be my friend’s little sister, but it was official. Elodie Darling just became my fiercest rival.