Janey got a couple of days off each week, but it usually wasn’t Saturday and Sunday. Wednesday seemed to be one of the slowest days at the park, so she had that day off. And usually Mondays as well. Jess didn’t seem to mind going out to the Loveland’s Lavender Farm, but he’d become surlier and surlier in the past couple of months.
On her days off, she usually went back to bed with her cat, Princess, as she had a hard-to-break habit of staying up until all hours of the morning reading. With a bowl of chocolate chips and pretzels nearby, no less.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t nighttime that haunted her, but the early morning hours just before the sun rose. She imagined the ferries getting prepped and ready for the day and wondered why her mechanical engineer husband had to be on the only ferry that had malfunctioned in the past two decades.
With a piece of toast and a banana in her hand, she retreated to her bedroom to eat and enjoy her second sleep. As she drifted from consciousness to unconsciousness, she wondered how she could meet a man in this town who didn’t know everything about her.
Impossible, her hazy mind thought.
Might be easier anyway, she told herself. Then you won’t have to explain everything about Matt.
That afternoon, fresh from her morning nap, and showered, and done with the yard work for the season, Janey sat on the front steps, waiting for her son to come home. When he didn’t show up by three-ten—his usual arrival time—she started flipping her phone over and over.
Worry ate at her, first in small bites and then in huge, sweeping waves. But she didn’t call. Jess didn’t like it when she “babied him” by calling if he was ten seconds late. Sure, they’d had a talk about why it was important to be on time, and that he should send a text, even if it was only five minutes.
Five minutes could mean a lot. So many things could happen in five minutes.
Janey glanced both ways down the street, her heart catapulting to the back of her throat when the police cruiser eased around the corner and headed her way. She knew it was Adam Herrin—the Chief of Police himself—just by the way the car stayed right in the middle of the street and came to a simple stop at the end of her driveway.
With the tinted windows, Janey couldn’t see into the backseat, and she didn’t want to rush the car anyway. If it was an emergency, Adam wouldn’t have driven four miles an hour down the street and he wouldn’t have gotten out so slowly a moment ago and be stretching his back like he’d been driving for days now.
She’d known Adam Herrin for almost four decades. Her whole life. They’d been friends in elementary school, a relationship which had lasted all the way through high school and into adulthood. Matt had been his best friend, and Adam had been the best man at their wedding.
He opened the back door of the cruiser and Jess got out, his face set into an angry scowl. Adam said something to him and Jess nodded before he marched up the driveway to where Janey sat on the porch.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“He took my board,” Jess said, taking the steps two at a time and disappearing into the house with a slam of the front door.
Janey flinched, a sigh leaking from her body as Adam popped the trunk on his cruiser and extracted Jess’s skateboard. He came up the driveway and sidewalk too, his broad shoulders and mirrored sunglasses so police-like Janey stood and straightened her hair.
Don’t be ridiculous, she thought. This was Adam. He’d seen her at her worst, all red-eyed and leaking from everywhere after Matt had died. It had been Adam who’d come to get her, to tell her about the fire. Adam who’d driven her to the dock. Adam who’d held her hand, and kept her close, and helped her stand when it was declared the ferry was a total loss.
Adam who’d stayed on her couch that night, listening to her sob and then dealing with a three-month-old Jess when he screamed and fussed in the middle of the night.
“Afternoon, Janey,” he said in that deep, delicious voice of his. He’d sang in the high school choir, and now she imagined that no one dared to disobey a voice as powerful as his.
She sighed as she looked at him, something...odd firing in her. What was that? Her stomach felt like it had been flipped over and she had the strangest urge to reach up and trace her fingers along Adam’s three-thirty shadow. He’d no doubt shaved that morning, but he’d started shaving when he was fourteen and it was a constant battle to have smooth skin.
She marveled at the maturity of him and a realization hit her square in the chest. He’s your age. And single.
Her heart started beating irregularly, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the attractive silver she saw in his beard and hair, or if the sunglasses he wore made him so attractive, or if she was losing her mind.
Because Adam Herrin?
He’d never been on her romantic radar.
But it sure was screaming a warning at her right now.
“You okay, Janey?” he asked.
She pressed one hand over her heart, willing it to calm down, while she shoved her phone in her back pocket. “Yeah, fine.” She took the skateboard from him and sank back to the steps. “Why’d you bring Jess home?”
“Oh, there was a little trouble at the skate park.” He exhaled like he carried the weight of the world and Janey glanced at him, the word trouble bouncing around between her eardrums.
“Sit down,” she said. “Rough day?”
“Sort of.” He positioned himself next to her, and she got blasted with the scent of his cologne. Fresh, and beachy, and minty, she wondered if she could sprinkle some on her sheets and fall asleep with such a delectable smell in her nose.
“Is Jess in trouble?” She focused on her son, trying to figure out where all these traitorous thoughts about Adam were coming from. Jess was who mattered. Jess who’d been brought home by the Chief of Police himself.
“I know he didn’t do it, but he’s not sayin’ who did.” Adam gazed out across the front yard she’d just finished mowing and getting ready for the winter. She hoped she wouldn’t have to do much more before the spring. Though she loved being and working outdoors, sometimes shouldering everything alone took its toll.
“What happened?” she asked, wishing she were as even and calm as Adam always was. She’d literally never seen the man get upset.
“There was some vandalism on the back of the building that borders the skate park,” Adam said, finally swinging his attention to her. He took off his sunglasses, and wow, had his eyes always been that particular shade of brown? One step above black, liquid, and deep. Janey lost herself for a moment, quickly coming back to attention when he continued with, “And Jess was there, a spray paint can only a few feet from his backpack.”
“He—he didn’t say he was going to skate park today.” She wondered who he’d been with. “I was going to take him and Dix out to your brother’s farm.”
Adam looked at her steadily, and dang if that didn’t make her pulse riot a little harder. “It looked like they’d been there a while, Janey.”
“But school just got out, and—oh.” She let her hands fall between her knees. “You think he skipped school.”
“At least fourth period,” Adam said. “He wouldn’t say anything to me.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “Which isn’t normal for him. Everything okay here, at home? You’re not....” He cleared his throat and for the first time, Janey saw a blip of discomfort steal across his face. “Datin’ anyone new or switching jobs or anything that could disrupt his normal schedule?”
Dating anyone new. Dating anyone new?
Janey threw her head back and laughed.
Chapter Two
Adam had no idea what he’d said that was so darn funny. But Janey couldn’t stop laughing. Just when she started to quiet, she’d look at him again and dissolve into more giggles. After several seconds, Adam smiled, the infectious nature of her laughter too much to ignore.
Oh, how he loved the sound of her voice. He wished he could erase the stiffness in her shoulders and the worry from her eyes. If she’d ever given
him any indication that his presence in her life as more than a friend would be welcome, he’d do it. But she’d been as closed off to men since Matt died as anyone he’d ever known.
“Nothing’s changed,” she finally said when she could stop laughing. “I have the same schedule I’ve had for five years, since I was promoted.” She added a smile to the statement that left Adam concentrating on what should be an involuntary function: breathing.
“And I’m not dating anyone.”
Do you want to start dating? He swallowed the thought and said, “Maybe it’s just the hormones,” instead.
Janey moaned and swatted his bicep. Was that flirting? The sign he’d been hoping for? The touch was so light and so quick, he had no idea.
“Don’t tell me I have to deal with that already,” she said.
“He’s in seventh grade,” Adam said. “I guarantee his brain’s already fallen out of his head. It’s probably rollin’ around under his bed.”
She laughed again, and this time Adam joined his chuckle to hers. “He’s a good kid,” he said. “I told him he needs to be careful who he chooses to hang around with. Even if he’s not the one doin’ anything, people can get the wrong idea about him just by who he’s with.”
Janey cut him a nervous look. “Who was he with?”
“A couple of older boys I couldn’t see as they ran off. The Fenniman twins, who are also in seventh grade and not bad kids.” Adam shrugged, not wanting to alarm Janey too badly. He knew she was a huge worrywart already, and while he would like to thump Jess on the noggin for causing worry for his mom, the boy hadn’t actually done anything yet.
“Will you keep an eye on him?” Janey asked, peering at him now with those intoxicating eyes. He was a sucker for those big brown eyes of hers, and he found himself nodding. While technically, it was his job to keep an eye on everything, he could spare a few minutes every day for Jess. For Janey.
“So are you excited about the planning weekend?” she asked.
Adam blinked at her. “The what?”
She gazed right back at him. “You’re the best man for Drew and Gretchen’s wedding, right?”
Adam’s mind whirred, trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle for this line of questioning. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“I’m the matron of honor. Gretchen and Drew are taking everyone in the wedding party for a weekend at the beach, but we all know it’s just to help them plan.” She flashed one of her brilliant smiles. In her tan face, the contrast of her white teeth really stood out. “I’m thinking I won’t even bring my bathing suit. Gretchen will have me poring over magazines and then patterns to find her perfect dress.”
Adam got stuck on “bathing suit” and what that might entail for Janey. “When is this weekend?”
“End of September. Cutting it really close, if you ask me.” She stood like she’d go inside and see what Jess had gotten up to. “I mean, if they want a Christmas wedding, that only leaves three months for all the preparations.”
“As I recall, you and Matt got married after a short engagement.” He stood too, not quite sure why he’d said anything about Matt. Though it had been almost twelve years since his death, the way Janey’s face blanked, and the way she swallowed, meant his fantasies of asking her out would remain exactly that: a figment of his imagination.
“Just three months from him asking to you saying ‘I do’, same as Gretchen, right?” Why was he still talking? And who would remember that? He cleared his throat. “I’ll keep an eye out for Jess.” He started to walk away, unable to look at Janey’s beautiful, horrified face for another moment.
He flipped his sunglasses back into place, a shield between him and the rest of the world. Once behind the safety of his tinted windows, and with the air conditioner running, he dared to glance back to Janey’s porch. She still stood there, watching him, a peculiar look on her face. He couldn’t place what it was, but he stared at her too, memorizing the confusion and the...hope? Was that hope?
She turned and climbed the stairs, and Adam headed back to his office at the police station. He pulled down the current Rubix cube he worked whenever his thoughts got too wrinkled and he needed to iron them flat.
While his fingers worked the rows and columns, and his mind sorted through the colors and what needed to go where, he freed up other important brain waves that could focus on the things that eluded him.
He had nineteen solved Rubix cubes in a variety of sizes and colorations, all in a row on the shelf behind his desk. Ten of them had been solved while he worked on particularly difficult cases as a beat cop and then a detective. A few while he debated whether he should leave Hawthorne Harbor and complete the FBI training—which he’d ultimately done. And a few more over the four years he’d been Chief of Police.
One after Anita had left him and he didn’t leave the office for days on end. This one, he suspected, would be devoted to Janey and his rotating thoughts as he tried to figure out what to do about her.
And a beach weekend? How in the world had he missed that?
All the green squares lined up and he turned the Rubix cube over to find the other side a complete array of colors. He set the puzzle down and picked up his phone to call his brother.
“Drew,” he said when he answered. “I just talked to Janey and she mentioned something about a beach weekend? How come I don’t know anything about this?”
His brother started laughing, and Adam didn’t appreciate the gesture for the second time that day. “I told you about this weeks ago,” Drew said. “You said you’d clear your schedule.”
Adam looked down at his desk calendar. He flipped the calendar from August to September, and sure enough, he’d reserved the third weekend in September for “personal vacation.”
He sighed. “I swear I don’t remember talking about it.”
“That’s because I brought over a half dozen of those cookies you like. You’d have agreed to anything.”
Adam scoffed while Drew chuckled. “I do remember the cookies.” And the four miles he’d put on the beach the next morning to get rid of the cookies. At least he still enjoyed running to the sound of the ocean waves coming ashore.
“Has something come up?” Drew asked. “You can make it, can’t you?”
“Janey made it sound like you guys had disguised a weekend of work by taking us to the beach.”
The silence on the other end of the line confirmed it, and Adam glanced up as his lieutenant poked his head into the office. “I have to go.” He hung up before Drew could say anything else and asked, “What’s up, Jason?”
Lieutenant Zimmerman came in and sat on the couch in front of Adam’s windows. “Kristin wants you to come for dinner on Friday night.” He wore a placid look, but Adam knew what a dinner invitation at the Zimmerman’s house meant. On the weekend, no less.
“Who else did she invite?” he asked.
“She wouldn’t say.”
Adam swiped the Rubix cube from his desk and started twisting like he could wring Jason’s neck the same way. “I don’t need to be set up.”
“It’s been months since Anita.”
He gave Jason a dark look. “I know how long it’s been.”
“You’re grouchy when you’re not dating.”
Adam didn’t know what to say to that, especially since Jason probably took the most flack from Adam’s bad moods. He minded the least though, if the twinkle in his eyes was any indication.
“So just come.” He stood and knocked twice on the doorjamb. “She’s making that Brazilian steak you like.” He walked out of the office, and Adam decided he couldn’t spend the next hour doing paperwork or sitting at his desk. He rarely could contain himself behind walls if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, which was why he’d been driving by the skate park at the exact right moment that afternoon.
He stopped at his secretary’s desk when she lifted her hand to get his attention. Sarah held the phone receiver to her ear and said, “Yes, thank you, Beth.”
A
dam’s heart skipped a beat. Beth Yardley was the director of the Fall Festival, and he’d been after her to find out the topic for this year’s cook-off. “It better not be chili again,” he said, the anticipation of what the culinary topic would be making his muscles tight.
Sarah sighed as she replaced the receiver and met Adam’s glare head-on. She’d been a familiar face at the station for two decades—longer than him—and he appreciated her candor when he needed it, the fresh flowers on her desk in the summer, and the poinsettias at Christmastime.
She brought pastries for birthdays, and kept everything in the department running.
“Soups,” she finally said.
Adam growled and smashed his hat on his head. “I’m going to patrol something.” He stalked out, his mind ping-ponging from Janey and the upcoming beach weekend and the half-dozen soup recipes he could try before entering the Fall Festival with something that could win.
After last year’s chili debacle, he needed something to re-establish his street cred as the tough, no-nonsense Chief of Police—who also happened to be a genius in the kitchen.
Chapter Three
Janey found Jess in his bedroom, earbuds in, staring at his phone. All she had to do was hold out her hand, and he turned over his device. She stuck it in her back pocket without looking at it.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said, sitting on the bed.
“Did you skip school?”
“Just last period, and it’s dumb anyway.”
“What’s last period?” Janey wanted to tell him that he had to go to school whether he thought it was dumb or not. She’d attended many college classes she found little value in. Matt had too.
“PE. He lets the kids do whatever after we run if we stay on the field, and the skate park is right by the school.”
In fact, the junior high fields were just through a chain link fence to the skate park. It was practically the same lot. “Did you do the running?”