Chapter Four Derek
CHAPTER FOUR
Derek
The shrill beeping of my phone’s alarm forced me out of bed—or should I say, off the couch—but I’d been awake for a while.
The pullout mattress was just as uncomfortable as I’d expected, but luckily, I was so exhausted from traveling and dealing with Jasmine Morgan that it hadn’t taken me long to fall asleep.
Jasmine Morgan.
The little girl who used to follow me around on family vacations had grown into a duplicitous vixen with a knack for scheming.
She was clearly determined to steal my job, starting with the bedroom of the suite we were forced to share.
And if yesterday was any indication, she had her sights set on my dog, too.
I heaved a deep sigh before stretching, deciding to hit the bathroom before Tora started his daily early-morning harassment campaign and give myself a few more precious moments of silence.
I’d taken exactly three steps toward the bathroom when I realized something was off. The suite was very silent. Too silent.
I didn’t know if Jasmine was an early riser, but my dog definitely was.
And he was also a professional escape artist. My heart pounded as I did a quick lap around the empty apartment.
When my search came up empty, I headed to Jasmine’s door, ready to knock.
I’d just raised my knuckle to tap when I heard the jingle of keys and a burst of laughter.
“Oh! Tora!” Jasmine’s voice rang out, clear and bright. My dog practically dragged her through the door, his leash taut as she struggled to balance herself. “Let me get the key out of the door! You’re gonna make me drop the coffees!”
Tora, as expected, ignored her plea for cooperation and continued pulling her forward. “Fine, you win,” she relented, dropping the leash with a dramatic sigh. Tora sprinted toward me, his nails clicking on the floor. I dropped to my knees, wrapping my arms around him in relief.
“Hey, buddy. Did you have fun with your new best friend?” I scratched behind his ears while detaching his leash, glancing up at Jasmine as she finally freed her keys from the lock and set a tray of coffees on the counter.
“I’m not sure where your food is”—she opened cabinets with the ease of someone who had already claimed the space as her own—“but I can give you some water…” Her voice trailed off as she grabbed a bowl and filled it for Tora.
It was only then that I registered what she was wearing.
Pale pink leggings and a matching tank top hugged every curve, and I’d never hated pastel colors more.
Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, but a few stray curls framed her face, and she looked effortlessly… perfect. Of course she did.
“… until Derek wakes up,” she continued, turning toward me. Her words ended in a startled yelp when she saw me standing there. The bowl in her hand clattered to the floor, water splashing everywhere.
“Derek!” she exclaimed, slapping her thigh and stomping her foot in frustration. The gesture was so familiar, so reminiscent of the Jasmine I used to know, that I couldn’t help but smile.
“Well, good morning to you, too, Butterfingers.” I laughed as I approached her. Tora followed close behind, his tail wagging happily. Jasmine rolled her eyes but didn’t miss the chance to sneak a glance at my bare chest before grabbing a dish towel.
“Let me help you,” I offered, holding out a hand for the towel.
She threw it at my chest instead. “Knock yourself out,” she muttered, picking up the bowl and refilling it at the sink.
I made quick work of the puddle on the floor and stood to face her as she set the bowl down for Tora. “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” she said, grabbing a coffee from the tray and handing it to me.
Our fingers brushed as I took the cup, and for a moment, our eyes locked. My heart did a funny little flip, and I caught myself glancing at her lips before snapping back to reality.
“Well, you nearly gave me a heart attack, too,” I countered, raising an eyebrow. “I woke up, and my dog was missing. A more considerate person would have left a note.”
“I didn’t plan to take your dog.” She sipped her coffee with infuriating nonchalance. “When I was leaving for my morning run, the poor thing was sitting out here listening to you snore.”
My jaw dropped. “I do not snore.”
She smirked. “You do, and it’s loud. Anyway, I took him with me because I’m a nice person, and you seem to have mispronounced the words ‘thank you.’”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. Tora had gone with her?
Willingly? Five years ago, when I was on a business trip to Tokyo, I’d met Tora as a puppy.
From the moment he’d chewed through my Ferragamo loafers, we’d been inseparable.
He was loyal to a fault and protective, and he had scared off more than one date with his territorial antics.
And yet, here he was, wagging his tail like Jasmine was the one he’d been living with for the last five years.
“Well,” I stammered, desperate to regain some footing in the conversation. “You should ask me next time.”
She pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed. “And you should brush your teeth,” she quipped over her shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen.
“Thank you for the coffee,” I called after her sarcastically.
“Don’t read too much into it,” she shot back. “The woman at the coffee shop insisted I bring one back for my husband. I was just trying to keep up appearances. Wouldn’t want you thinking I was considerate or anything.”
Her bedroom door slammed shut before I could respond. I sank into a chair, coffee in hand, and glanced at Tora, who was still happily lapping at the water Jasmine had given him. He must have felt my eyes on him because he trotted over and rested his head, still damp, on my lap.
“Traitor,” I muttered, scratching behind his ears. Tora just wagged his tail, oblivious to his betrayal.
“You are so full of it.” CJ laughed through the phone, his voice filled with the kind of sibling amusement that always grated on me. “A coin toss? Really?”
“Yeah, a coin toss,” I repeated, rolling my eyes as Tora paused to sniff what had to be the twentieth tree on our walk.
This dog’s nose had a schedule of its own.
If the park had a fence, I would’ve let him off the leash for a bit, but I knew better than to tempt fate. “What exactly are you implying, CJ?”
“I’m implying, little brother, that Jasmine Morgan still has you wrapped around her little finger.”
I scoffed. “Nothing about Jasmine Morgan is little anymore.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” CJ quipped, the smirk practically audible through the phone.
“For the last time, Jasmine is not the same person we grew up with. And, by the looks of things, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” CJ asked, his tone losing some of its humor.
“Don’t you remember why we haven’t seen or spoken to Jasmine in thirteen years? What her parents did to our parents? To our entire family?”
“Of course I remember,” he said quietly. “But we don’t know the whole story, and you don’t know if Jasmine does, either.”
“Are you defending her?”
“I’m not defending anything. I’m just reminding you that you don’t have the whole story. Blaming Jasmine for something her parents did isn’t fair.”
“This sounds a whole lot like defending her.”
“Listen.” CJ exhaled sharply. “Whatever happened caused our father to abandon his family. Was that our fault? Was what he did on us?”
“Of course not.” I paced as the conversation veered into uncomfortable territory. “But that’s completely different.”
“It isn’t.” CJ’s voice was firm. A long silence stretched between us as his words settled like a stone in my chest. “Listen, I don’t know what Jasmine is like now. Maybe she is as bad as you think she is. But at least judge her by her own actions, not her parents’.”
I sighed, scratching the back of my head. “Fine. I’m not trying to pick at old wounds, and I’m definitely not trying to think about your father and his… mess.”
“Our father, punk,” CJ corrected with a chuckle.
“He was your father longer,” I retorted, shaking my head. “Look, I’m just going to stay focused. Do what I need to do in Miller’s Cove, secure the bag, and get as far away from Jasmine Morgan as I can.”
“Yeah, because staying away from Jasmine Morgan has always been your specialty,” CJ teased, the amusement back in his voice.
“Whatever, man.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me take this big-headed dog for a real run before it gets too late.”
“Fine, but getting off the phone isn’t going to change the fact that you lost that coin toss on purpose.”
“Whatever, man.” I felt an involuntary smirk creep across my face. Thankfully, CJ couldn’t see it. “Later, Chris.”
I ended the call and took a deep breath before taking off in a sprint across the park, Tora bounding beside me with the kind of joy only a dog could manage.
My afternoon run had done its job, temporarily taking my mind off Jasmine and CJ’s words. But as the adrenaline faded, so did my focus.
I’d spent half a day in Miller’s Cove and had learned absolutely nothing that could help with my presentation. Meanwhile, Jasmine was probably outworking me, and I wasn’t about to let her get another win. Sleeping on that pullout couch was enough of a blow to my pride.
Miller’s Cove, however, was proving to be a distraction in itself.
The town looked like it had leapt straight out of a postcard.
The streets were lined with brightly colored storefronts and flowering trees that seemed almost too vibrant to be real.
A large creek snaked through the north side of town, its crystal-clear water reflecting the late-afternoon sun.
Tora and I followed the creek, stopping occasionally for him to drink, until we came across a large wood-and-brick building with a water turbine partially submerged in the water.
It was charming in a way that screamed “small-town Instagram gem.” My inner nerd immediately recognized it as a grist mill, and it was in surprisingly good condition, given the fact that it had to be at least a hundred years old.
Curiosity propelled me across the wooden plank bridge. A large wooden sign hung over the doorway that read “THE MILL” in bold, blocky letters. Underneath, smaller text declared it to be a “grist mill · bakery · restaurant · store.”
Not sure if Tora was allowed inside, I tied his leash to a post outside, making sure he stayed in my line of sight before stepping through the door. A cheerful chime of bells greeted me, followed by a blast of cold air and the mouthwatering aroma of fresh bread.
“Hello there,” a deep voice called. I looked up to find a man crouched over a display case.
He straightened as I approached, revealing a warm smile framed by a neatly trimmed beard.
He was a brown-skinned man who looked to be in his fifties, dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt beneath a black leather apron.
“Hey.” I returned his smile. “I was out for a run with my dog and stumbled across your place.”
“Ah, yes.” His smile widened. “You must be the couple staying at The Derry House. I’m David.” He extended a hand, which I shook.
“Yeah,” I replied, laughing nervously. “I guess news travels fast around here.”
“You better believe it,” David said with a knowing grin. “What can I do for you?”
“Honestly, I was curious about the mill itself,” I admitted, glancing around. “But now that I’m here, the smell coming from your kitchen is telling me I need to grab a bite to eat.”
David’s laugh was warm and genuine. “I don’t blame you. My wife, Eleanor, is the best cook in Miller’s Cove. But I might be a little biased. Grab a seat outside, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
An hour later, I had a full stomach and a new friend.
David, as it turned out, was a descendant of Miller’s Cove’s founder.
His wife, Eleanor, was indeed an amazing cook, and the pair had extended a dinner invitation that I was reluctant to accept for one reason: the invitation was for me and my “wife.”
As I strolled back through the town square, still smarting from my earlier exchange with Jasmine, a jewelry store display caught my eye. Specifically, a ring. It was a square-cut emerald that matched the green flecks in Jasmine’s hazel eyes perfectly.
Her words from the previous night echoed in my mind: “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but married people tend to wear wedding rings.”
A smile tugged at my lips as an idea formed. If we were going to attend dinner as a married couple, we might as well look the part. At least, that’s what I told myself as I left the store with matching wedding bands and a collar for Tora with emerald accents to complete the charade.