Chapter 22
HANNAH
Isleep until almost ten, and it feels like a miracle.
My body has been running on fumes for so long that when I finally open my eyes and see the clock, I just lie there for a minute, grateful that I finally feel rested for once.
The nausea is mild this morning, and I take that as a sign that the universe is giving me one good day.
I eat two pieces of dry toast and drink a full glass of water before I even think about getting dressed.
Then I pack a bag with a blanket, a bottle of water, sunscreen, and a bag of crackers to stave off any further nausea.
Then I pull on a bikini and my sundress and flip-flops and drive down to the beach just south of the marina ready to absorb some Vitamin D and enjoy my day off.
The beach is packed. Memorial Day weekend has brought out every family in Bandon and then some.
Kids are running through the shallows screaming while their parents sit in tide chairs with coolers between them.
Somewhere down the beach, someone has a speaker playing country music, and it blends with the crash of the waves welcoming in the official start to summer.
It couldn't be more perfect, and with less stress on my shoulders, I plan to absorb every bit of it.
I find a spot away from the thickest crowds and spread out my blanket. The sand is warm and the sunshine feels good on my skin as I strip off the dress and crack open my book.
It’s still only late morning, and I've been stretched out reading for less than fifteen minutes when a shadow crosses over me, someone passing by.
But the shadow stops, blocking my sun, and I look up to see who might be standing over me, only to see Luke dripping with sweat wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts and sand-covered sneakers.
"Hey," I say, suddenly feeling awkward in my bikini as I force myself to a seated position and try not to look embarrassed.
"Hey…" He shields his eyes with one hand and looks down at me. "I almost didn't see you there."
"That was kind of the point." I pull my knees up and rest my arms on them, hiding what I swear feels like double my normal cup size. My boobs just barely fit this bikini now. "Day off."
"Good. You need it." He stands there awkwardly, like he has no intention of walking away but also doesn't feel quite comfortable making himself at home. He clearly wants an invitation to sit and talk, and I guess since we're in public surrounded by a horde of people, it wouldn't hurt to chat.
"You can sit down if you want," I say, but I cringe inwardly.
A month ago, I would've let him walk past and been relieved.
But something's shifted since his warning about Dorsey, and I've been turning his words over in my head for more than a week now.
Luke deserves my respect, even if I feel out of place, and definitely out of my comfort zone, speaking to him.
Without any hesitation, he drops to the corner of my blanket and stretches his legs out, leaning back on his hands and staring out at the water.
I notice the rivulets of sweat rolling down his bronzed chest and feel my body warm to the idea of seeing this daily.
He's such a good-looking man, not at all the scrawny teenager I crushed on more than a decade ago.
I'm sure he probably has thoughts about me too, though other than in the heat of the moment, he's not said them to me out loud.
"How are you feeling?" he asks after a minute.
"Better today. I actually slept." I close the book and set it to the side, deciding I'm not going to get a chance to read any more right now.
"Yeah?"
"Almost nine hours," I say with a grin, feeling more comfortable around him now that he knows about the baby. It's still a little tense and a little awkward, though.
He's fishing, though I can tell it's from genuine concern. He's not just being nosy, and I don't get the feeling that he's trying to control me, either. "You eating okay?"
"Toast and crackers, mostly. Some things still hit me wrong, but I'm keeping food down better than I was.
" I feel myself shrinking inward. Talking about this just feels like dancing around an elephant that could squash me.
He won't just come out and admit he's worried or cares, but he's showing it by asking about me, at least.
"Can I get you anything? I've got water and some fruit up at the house if you want it."
"I'm okay. I brought supplies." I hold up the bag of crackers and he smiles.
A kid runs past us chasing a kite that's dragging in the sand, and we both watch him go.
It's a welcome distraction from the tension that crackles between us the way chemistry used to.
Funny how that chemistry can make us want each other, yet the consequence of indulgence in that chemistry makes things difficult.
"I've been thinking about what you said," I tell him, and he turns to face me. "About Dorsey…"
"Mmm," Luke hums. He draws his knees up and rests his arms on them, hooking his fingers together like he's interested but not wanting to push. But I see the tension ripple across his shoulders. He really hates this guy for some reason, and I'd be stupid not to listen to his body language.
"When he first offered to help with the festival, he asked to see my full vendor list. Names, quantities, delivery schedules, all of it.
I gave it to him because he said he could negotiate better rates and I was drowning.
He told me he'd handle procurement, so I let him.
" It's something I've been dwelling on—how trusting I've been with a man I don’t even know.
But it's his money, which is why I told myself he should handle this stuff.
"Yeah?" Luke turns more toward me, sitting cross-legged now with his back hunched. I don't like that I feel guilty for telling him all of this, but I haven't had a good feeling about Dorsey in weeks now.
"But after you told me you were worried about Dorsey, I went back through my files.
Every vendor I selected is domestic, but then some of these POs are foreign.
So I confirmed my orders with all of them, but a few told me their orders were canceled.
" And if my orders were canceled, then who did that and where did my stuff go?
And whose stuff is in those crates being brought in and stored across town?
Luke's jaw tightens. "Canceled by whom?"
"I guess someone called on Dorsey's behalf and canceled the bulk orders for staging materials and tent supplies."
"And you didn't authorize that…" Now Luke doesn’t just look suspicious. He looks angry.
"I didn't authorize that. I didn't even know about it until I called to confirm delivery timelines.
" I pull at a thread on the edge of my blanket and wind it around my finger.
"And the permit applications he gave me to sign last week had line items I've never seen before.
Equipment rentals from companies I can't find online.
Budget allocations for categories that weren't in my original plan.
When I asked him about it, he said they were contingency items and that every large event needs a buffer.
It's what we were arguing about that day. "
"And you signed them?"
"Well, yes. I signed the ones I could verify. But he wanted everything signed and submitted that day and I told him I wouldn't sign anything I couldn't account for."
Luke picks up a handful of sand and lets it run through his fingers, watching it fall. "What did he say to that?"
"Well, you saw the result of that…" The breeze tosses my hair into my face and I flick it back over my shoulder, but I don't miss the scowl on Luke's face.
He's thinking things, and it looks like in his mind he's already deciding that Dorsey is evil.
I'm not fully sold on that fact, but I don't think he's a saint.
I turn and look at him straight on. "What do you think is in those crates?"
"I don't know yet. But I know it's not tent poles and stage lights."
"You really think he's using the festival as cover for something?" This makes me feel sick, but not morning-sickness sick. I feel used and dirty now. Dorsey is trying really hard to pull one over on me.
"I think the pattern fits, and I think you're smart enough to see it now that you're looking."
It's scary, honestly. Once I started looking I couldn't stop, and every detail I'd brushed off before started materializing into more and more proof that Luke might just be right.
"I should've listened to you sooner," I say softly. It's hard to admit that I was a fool and ignored Luke's intuition for so long. Now just five weeks till the festival, things could go horribly wrong and I'd have no one to blame but myself.
"You're listening now, okay? And we'll figure it out." Luke reaches for my water bottle, and I think for a second he's going to open it and take a sip, but he hands it to me in a very suggestive way, like how my mom gets me to do things. I roll my eyes at him but I take a sip anyway.
"What do we do?" I ask, screwing the lid back on the bottle and setting it far enough away that he can't reach it.
"I've got someone looking into Dorsey's business connections.
He's a former military friend who works in intelligence consulting.
He's been digging into the shell companies tied to Dorsey's freight operations and the picture is getting clearer.
But we need more. We need documentation of what's actually in those shipments or proof of what's in those containers. "
"You're talking about going to the authorities?" The idea that this could be big enough to involve police scares me. It makes me wonder what sort of nightmare I could be facing for involving Dorsey to begin with.
"Eventually… But if we go now with shipping labels and canceled vendor orders, it's just circumstantial.
Dorsey's lawyers would shred it. We need something concrete.
" Luke stares out at the waves and beachgoers while I wrestle with how foolish I feel.
I'm glad he's not looking at me because my cheeks have to look as red as a sunburn.
"So, what do I do in the meantime?"
"Keep doing what you're doing, but don't sign anything you can't verify. And whatever you do, don't let him know you're suspicious. If he pressures you, tell him the permits are tied up in the city clerk's office and there's nothing you can do to speed it up. Buy us time."
"Us?" I say, lifting both eyebrows. It's the first time either of us has mentioned there even being an "us" and I kind of like it.
"Yeah," he says. "Us."
Our eyes meet and it makes my cheeks flush more. I look away, not wanting to feel that tug of emotion around him right now. Sometimes, it's so strong I think I'll break down and tell him I love him. Avoiding eye contact is the best way to keep that from happening.
"I should let you enjoy your day off," Luke says, reading something in my silence. He stands and brushes the sand off his shorts. "You need anything, you've got my number."
"Luke," I call, and he stops and looks down at me. "Thank you… For telling me about Dorsey and not rubbing it in my face."
"I'm not interested in being right, Hannah. I'm interested in your being safe."
The words make my heart flutter as he turns and walks back up the beach toward the bluff trail that leads to his property. I watch him go and I lie back on my blanket looking up at the clear blue sky with my hand resting on my belly.
I don't know what's coming. I don't know how to handle Dorsey or the festival or Luke or the fact that I'm carrying a baby I still haven't figured out how to plan for. But when Luke said "us", I knew he meant it. He's in this with me, like it or not, and he's going to help me figure it out.
If it were up to me, I'd go to Mayor Grant right away, but he's right. If we don't have proof, we'll just piss Dorsey off and maybe he'll run away and not get caught.
I have to trust that Luke knows what he's doing.
And I have to try like hell not to let my heart get carried away.