Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
Elliott
Ipack the ground beef into hamburger patties, the sound of my hands slapping against the meat echoing louder than usual through the kitchen.
When the Thermos Crew mentioned that a developer was coming to town, I pictured some millennial in a suit. That or some overeager guy in his twenties, dressed to impress and trying to make a name for himself. Not someone like Emelia—gorgeous and obviously able to give as good as she gets.
The truth is that if I’d encountered her anywhere else, I would’ve had a wholly different reaction.
She’s gorgeous with her long dark hair and green eyes with a burst of hazel in the middle.
But the pull I felt died knowing she’s here to upend our small town and try to turn it into something it’s not.
I set the last of the patties on the plate and wash my hands, then pop my head into Baylor’s room to make sure she’s okay. She’s quietly coloring on the floor of her bedroom, and she doesn’t notice me, so I back away from the door and head out onto the back deck to start the grill.
When I step back into the house, there’s a knock at the door.
Baylor will be thrilled Roy changed his mind and decided to join us for dinner.
I swing the door open with a smile, ready to greet him, but it dies on my lips.
It’s her.
“What are you doing here?”
Her shoulders slump, and she tilts her head toward the sky. “Seriously?”
I cross my arms. “If you’re here to try to convince me that whatever you’re peddling is a good idea—”
Emelia shoves a piece of paper into my chest. “Believe me, I’d hoped never to cross paths again. I’m here because of this.” She nods at the paper her hand has plastered to my chest.
With a frown, I snatch it up and hold it out to read. It’s an email confirmation sent to an Emelia Greene for the bunkie on the back of my lot. Roy must’ve sent it to her after they spoke.
“No way.” I hold the paper back out to her.
“Yes way. We have an agreement.” Her voice is perfectly level, but her jaw is so clenched, her teeth must be aching.
Neither of us wants this.
“I didn’t agree to anything.”
She rips the paper from my hand and points at it. “Well, who is Roy?”
I press my lips together before I answer. “My uncle.”
“Does he have the authority to arrange the rentals for you?” She pins me with a stare I imagine she’s used a lot over the years of doing her job. It’s designed to make you wither, but I don’t wilt.
Unfortunately, I also refuse to lie. My jaw sets before I bite out, “Yes.”
“Great. You can show me to where I’m staying then.”
I push a hand through my hair. “I’m sure you’re as eager to stay here as I am to have you. Why don’t you call the Stillwater Inn and see if they have a room for you?”
“I already tried that before I booked here. There’s no room. And certainly not for three months in duration.”
My nostrils flare at the reminder of how long she’ll be staying.
“C’mon, where’s that small-town hospitality you’re so eager to preserve?” She arches an eyebrow.
Fucking Roy.
“Fine. Let me grab the key. Wait here.”
“Happy to.” She gives me a smug smile that reads, I won and fuck you.
I slam the screen door and stalk off into the kitchen. The key for the bunkie hangs on the hook beside the sliding glass door that leads to the deck. After I grab it, I close my fist around it and head back to the door.
“Follow me.” I exit the house and don’t wait to make sure she’s following me, but I can hear her feet on the grass as we walk along the side of the house.
The bunkie is set about twenty feet from the edge of the water and on the opposite side of the lot from the dock.
It’s a good source of extra income when I can rent it out, and though I was happy to hear my uncle had managed to rent it out for a three-month stint earlier today, now it feels like these next three months will feel more like three years.
Four steps lead up to a small porch, and when I reach the bottom of them, I turn to find Emelia only halfway across the lawn. She’s picking her way across, one careful step at a time, those heels sinking into the lawn with each stride.
Something pulls at the corner of my mouth. “You planning to make it over here sometime this evening?”
She huffs and glances across the lawn at me as if the distance between us is an Olympic track.
“Maybe you should wear more sensible shoes.”
With what sounds pretty close to a growl, she slips off her shoes. Then she stomps across the grass with them in hand until we stand face-to-face.
I don’t say anything. Instead, I turn and make my way up the stairs, unlock the door, then extend my hand, the key dangling from my fingers. “Here you go. There’s a $200 charge if you lose it.”
Emelia yanks the key from my fingers. “I know. I read the rental agreement Roy sent over. He’s much more polite than you.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” I swing the door open.
She steps past me into the bunkie. Her perfume catches me off guard—woodsy with a thread of citrus. Fresh. I hate that I notice it.
Emelia takes in the space, circling in the center of the room.
“Sorry it’s not a five-star hotel like you’re probably used to.”
She glances at me over her shoulder. “It’s fine.”
She places her shoes on the pinewood floor that matches the vaulted ceiling and walks around as if she’s a safety inspector. All I want to do is get out of here, so I figure I’ll point out what she needs to know.
“Double bed.” I point to where it’s pushed against the far wall. “Love seat, dresser.” I walk a few steps. “Kitchen.” I point to where it lines the wall opposite the bed. “Bathroom and the wood stove that hopefully you’ll be gone before it gets too cold to use.”
She says nothing, wears no sign of what she thinks of the place, so I continue.
“I’ll collect your towels and switch them out every few days. There’s a laundromat in town where you can take care of your clothes. That door beside the bed leads to a small walk-in closet where you can store your stuff since I’m sure the dresser won’t be enough.”
She nods. “I do like to dress nice.” Her gaze falls down my body with judgment.
“You can add any garbage bags you have to our container at the side of the house. Just make sure to latch it properly so the wildlife can’t get in it. And don’t go leaving any leftover food out on the porch, otherwise you’re sure to have visitors. And they aren’t rats like you’re used to.”
“I’m not an idiot. I know not to leave food outside.”
I hold up both hands. “My mistake. Didn’t realize they had bears in the city.”
She crosses her arms and juts out her hip. “Who says I’m from the city?”
I eye her up and down, then raise a brow. “So you aren’t?”
She huffs, and I bite down my smile because we both know before she ever admits, “I live in Boston.”
“Like I said.” I give her a self-satisfied smirk she seems to take exception to, though I don’t wait for her comeback. Instead, I make my way to the door. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”
I stomp back to the house, going in off the deck through the sliding glass doors.
Emelia is walking across the yard toward the driveway when I step back outside to light the grill, and I realize I’m probably going to have to watch her move her things in the whole time I’m cooking dinner.
Just great.
I head back in to cut up some lettuce, tomatoes, and onions while the grill warms up and decide to give my uncle a call just because I want to bitch to someone. The phone rings, and I put it on speakerphone so I can still work on dinner prep.
He answers on the third ring, and I can tell by the background noise that he’s already at the pub. “Hey, Elliott. What’s up?”
“Why in the hell would you ever rent my bunkie out to that woman?”
“What do you mean?” He must exit the pub because the background noise dies down.
“That woman you rented the bunkie to works for a developer.”
“Heard she’s quite the looker.”
News travels fast, as always.
“What does that have to do with anything, Roy? She’s here to try to get people to sell their property so they can build whatever the hell it is they want to build.”
“I don’t ask for resumes when I book the rentals.”
I finish cutting the tomato and set down the knife. “Did you think to ask her what was bringing her to town for a three-month stay?”
“If you go wanting their personal information, you’ll never book that bunkie.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. This man is part of a crew that makes everything that happens in town his business, and suddenly he has the ability to draw lines?
“Fine. Whatever. I don’t even know why I bothered calling.”
“I’m sure it will all work out. You don’t even know the woman. Give her a chance, and if you can’t get on, just stay out of each other’s way.”
“The last thing I plan on doing is staying out of her way. I plan to be very much in the way of whatever it is she’s trying to accomplish in Echo Lake. Go enjoy the baseball game. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up without waiting for him to respond because there’s no point.
He’ll be fine with this until Mercer Hardware has a for sale sign on the door because of this developer’s plans.
I finish up cutting the onions, and when I head back outside with the plate of raw hamburger patties, Emelia is nowhere to be seen. Good. I toss the patties on the grill, go inside to wash my hands and put the plate in the dishwasher, then grab myself a beer before I head back out onto the deck.
I’m standing in front of the grill, taking a pull off my beer, when Baylor’s voice reaches me from behind me. “Daddy, when is dinner? I’m hungry.”
I look over my shoulder as she slides the screen door to the side so she can step out.
“Just a few more minutes, kiddo.” I use the spatula to flip the burgers on the grill.
Just then, Emelia comes out of the bunkie and takes a seat on one of the Adirondack chairs on her small deck.
She has a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.
But that’s not what makes me do a double-take.
She has on a T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts.
Gone is the severe bun, and in its place is a messy top knot.
Rather than her pointed high heels, she’s now barefoot, something that is obvious when she stretches out her legs and lets her feet rest on the top of the deck railing. I can’t complain about the view.
“Who’s that?”
I jolt as Baylor’s small voice pulls me back.
“Her name is Emelia. She’s going to be staying in the bunkie for a few months.”
My daughter’s baby blues light right up. I should’ve foreseen this. She’s always excited when someone stays in the bunkie.
“Can I go say hi?”
I want to say no. To tell her to stay away from Emelia. But it’s inevitable they’re going to meet, so might as well get it over with. Even better, I can just watch rather than have to put myself in Emelia’s proximity again.
“Sure. Go say a quick hello and then straight back here.”
The words are barely done leaving my mouth before Baylor is rushing off the deck and running across the yard.
I check the burgers again and watch as Emelia sets her book aside when Baylor makes herself known. Emelia smiles at her and invites Baylor to join her on the deck, which of course she does.
I can’t hear what they’re saying from this far away, but a minute later, Baylor’s laughter echoes across the yard.
My hand flexes around the handle of the spatula. “Baylor, dinner’s ready. Let’s go.” My voice is too loud, too sharp, and I swear I can feel Emelia’s eyes narrow in my direction.
Baylor says something to Emelia, then she’s running back across the lawn and up onto the deck.
“Go wash your hands. Dinner is ready.” I set the buns on the upper rack of the grill to toast them.
“Can Emelia eat with us?”
“No.”
She tilts her head, frowning. “Why?”
“Because. Now go wash your hands, please.”
Still frowning, she slides the screen door to the side and steps into the kitchen. I hear her drag her stool across the floor as I take the buns off the grill. Then I place the burgers on the buns.
I had planned on eating out here on the deck. It’s a gorgeous night, and this kind of weather is fleeting in Maine. Best to enjoy it while it lasts. Regardless, I don’t want to be alerted to the constant presence of our new guest, so inside it is.
A few minutes later, we’re settled across from each other in our usual chairs at the kitchen table.
“How come Emelia can’t eat with us?”
“Because she’s a guest, but she’s not our guest.” I take a big bite of my burger.
“She’s really nice, Daddy.” Baylor’s big blue eyes fix on mine.
“Mm-hmm.”
“She’s pretty too.” When I don’t say anything, Baylor continues, “I’m glad she’s gonna be here.”
“That makes one of us,” I grumble under my breath.
“I’m gonna make her my friend,” she says, ignoring my comment.
I set my hamburger on my plate. “You’ll do no such thing. You know the rules…you leave the guests alone.” I give her a look that lets her know I’m serious while telling myself it’s not because the woman at the back of my property gets under my skin.
And it’s not. This is the same rule I have in place for Baylor whenever anyone is staying in the bunkie.
“But she said I could come see her whenever I want.”
“Baylor, I don’t want you over there bothering her, understand?” I hold her gaze until she nods. “Good. Now, less talking and more eating, okay?”
Her little shoulders slump, and it makes me feel like a piece of shit. I never want her to lose that spark and energetic personality.
But I’m doing it for her own good. What Baylor doesn’t understand yet is that Emelia is the one trying to change the way she’s going to grow up. It’s the same with all these developers—as soon as they get a foothold in the community, things change forever. And things are just fine how they are.
We don’t need the likes of Emelia Greene here, and the sooner she figures it out, the better.