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  “Yeah, well, I don’t need your phony pity. Those boys don’t pick on me because they like me,” she said, slamming the door of the truck. “They pick on me because I’m not some toned-ass bimbo who parades through school in short-shorts, putting out behind the bleachers. They don’t care what’s on the ‘inside’, Gidget. They don’t even bother looking.” The last word came out as a screech before she charged toward the inn.

  Ginger raced to keep up with her, worried now that she’d made things worse when she’d only been trying to help the girl. “Well, those boys shouldn’t be allowed to talk to you like that. Maybe you should tell your parents that they’re hassling you? Or maybe a teacher at school?”

  Cassidy stopped in her tracks, slowly turning to stare down Ginger. The girl’s face was a contortion of anguish and anger. Ginger felt the breath squeeze in her lungs. This wasn’t going as she’d planned.

  “Wow, this is epic. Destiny does Dawson’s Creek.” Cassidy crossed her arms over her chest. “Not that it’s any of your business, but my parents don’t give a crap about what anyone says about me. My father hasn’t”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“cared since he deserted me when I was two. And my mother—” she sucked in a breath. “My mother doesn’t know what day it is half the time, she’s so high. So you see, Gidget, it’s up to me to handle those boys and all the other snobs like them. And I do it my way. I don’t need anyone’s help. Especially not a perky little soap star who has more hang-ups than the Olsen twins.”

  Ginger tried to swallow around the boulder in her throat. Nothing she did or said came out right in this crazy town. But she wouldn’t give up on Cassidy. Not now that she knew her story. “You don’t have to do it alone,” she said quietly. Ginger had battled some serious issues these past several years, but throughout it all, she’d had her parents to support her. Imagining Cassidy navigating not only adolescence, but day-to-day survival on her own made tears sting the back of Ginger’s eyes. “I’d be happy to help you.”

  Cassidy let out a snort. “And how do you see that playing out, Gidget? We become BFFs and suddenly the captain of the football team asks me to prom?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut so the teenager wouldn’t see the moisture that was threatening. Why is everyone in Chances Inlet so damn difficult? “I just meant—”

  “You just meant that you’re a sap,” Cassidy spat out before turning to stomp up the veranda steps leading into the inn.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Ginger hadn’t noticed Gavin standing in the shadows until he spoke.

  “Well, Gavin, Guh-linda here says she wants to make me pop-u-lar!” Cassidy said before yanking open the screen door and storming into the inn.

  “Oh, Cass,” he said as the door slammed, his voice a gentle caress in the evening air.

  Ginger wrapped her arms around her middle and closed her eyes, preparing herself for a second attack. Instead, the only thing she felt was his obnoxious dog trying to bury its wet nose in her behind.

  “Midas!” Gavin commanded. The dog wisely scampered off before Gavin could get to him.

  Ginger opened her eyes to see that he’d moved off the veranda to stand an arm’s length in front of her. He was still dressed in a business suit, but his tie had been pulled loose and his shirt collar was unbuttoned. A five o’clock shadow framed that amazing mouth. He looked weary and rumpled and sexy as hell.

  “What happened?” he asked softly.

  Embarrassed that he’d witnessed Cassidy’s angry tirade, Ginger dug a sneakered toe into the sand beside the flagstone walk. “Some boys were teasing her. They pulled up beside us at the stoplight and shouted some nasty things.”

  She heard something that sounded like a growl and she looked up to see Gavin with his eyes squeezed shut. “Was the car a blue Ford Escape?”

  “It was blue and it was an SUV.” She shrugged. “I’m not very good with cars.”

  “Never mind. I’ll take care of it.”

  Night began to envelop the yard as a chorus of tree frogs and crickets serenaded them.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, apologizing for more than just not recognizing the car. “I was just trying to help.”

  Gavin closed the gap between their bodies by a half step. “I know. But Cassidy is tougher than she looks.”

  Ginger had heard those words before, usually right before a dancer did something dramatic. Or worse. “No one should have to be that tough,” she said with a violent shake of her head. “It isn’t fair.”

  His warm sigh wafted across her cheek as he reached out to gently trace a finger along her jaw. She’d been in Chances Inlet for nearly a week and all she wanted was for one person to like her, to be friendly to her. So far, the only person to do that was the inviting man who stood before her. The porch light flickered behind him, leaving his face in shadow so that she couldn’t see what he was thinking. But she knew what she wanted him to be thinking: Kiss me, she silently begged him.

  “You’re very sweet,” Gavin said as he leaned toward her.

  “Yes, she is.” His mother’s voice from the porch behind him surprised them both.

  Gavin swore under his breath as his hand dropped to his side and he took a step away from Ginger. “For crying out loud, Mom!”

  “I wanted to thank Ginger for sticking up for Cassidy,” Patricia said.

  “Like hell,” Gavin muttered.

  “Cassidy has had a rough upbringing,” she continued as if Gavin hadn’t spoken. “But she has plenty of people who care about her and love her. We take care of our own in this town. And we’ll make sure she’s taken care of long after you’ve gone.”

  Ginger felt the blow as if it were real. Cassidy wasn’t the only one in this town adept at throwing barbs.

  “Nothing like beating around the bush, Mom.” Gavin jingled his keys, angrily calling for Midas. The dog bounded around the corner, skidding to a halt beside Ginger, seeming to sense the tension in the air.

  Midas slid his head beneath Ginger’s shaky hand as she absentmindedly began to pet him. She fervently prayed aliens would suddenly arrive and abduct her right from the lawn of the inn. Anything was preferable to spending another minute, much less eighty more days, in Chances Inlet. She’d only ever meant to be nice. Instead, she’d inadvertently piled on the hurt with Cassidy and come between Gavin and his mother. It was the story of her life: trying to fit in where she didn’t belong.

  “Don’t go, Gavin. Hank and Annabeth Osbourne have come down for the weekend with some friends. Lori is debuting her new wine flights and hors d’oeuvres that we plan to serve every Thursday this summer.” She paused before turning to Ginger. “You, too, Ginger. I’m sure Annabeth would love to meet a real, live soap star.”

  Gavin let out a snort of disgust. “Not tonight. It’s been a long week.”

  She looked inquiringly at Ginger.

  “No, thank you, Mrs. McAlister.” Ginger was by no means a star, but she felt like one as she managed a dignified walk into the inn. “I’m just going to get my salad and take it to my room. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.”

  “That wasn’t very well-done of you at all, Mom,” she heard Gavin say after the screen door closed behind her.

  His mother sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not the one you owe the apology to.”

  Ginger didn’t hear the rest of their conversation. She was too focused on grabbing her salad from the fridge and climbing the back stairs to her room before the tears came.

  SIX

  An hour later, Gavin patiently dropped a screwdriver into Mr. Elderhaus’ outstretched hand.

  “That ought to do it,” Gavin said, giving the storm door a tug.

  “I could have done it myself,” the old man grumbled.

  “Of course you could have,” Mrs. Elderhaus said, patting her husband on the shoulder. “But Gavin was walking by with Midas, so I asked him to help me instead.”

  Gavin’s first-grade teacher winked at
him. Her husband suffered from Parkinson’s disease and it would have likely taken him two hours to realign the storm door onto its hinges instead of the five minutes in which Gavin had managed it. He’d taken to stopping by their house once a week to check on things, knowing he walked a fine line between being helpful and stepping on the older man’s pride.

  “Have you had something to eat tonight, Gavin?” Mrs. Elderhaus asked. Midas’ ears perked up at the word “eat,” and he followed close on her heels as she led them into the kitchen.

  “I’m fine, Mrs. E,” he said. “Is that all you needed tonight?” Gavin felt wrung out after the week he’d had in Wilmington and he was eager to get on with the walk he and Midas had begun earlier.

  “But this baby needs a treat,” she cooed, prying the lid off the can of doggie treats she kept on her counter. Midas slobbered on the linoleum floor Gavin had installed six months ago.

  Gavin washed and dried his hands. “You’re spoiling him,” he said, knowing full well his words were falling on deaf ears. In the eighteen months he’d had Midas, his dog had wormed his way into the hearts of most of Chances Inlet.

  “Someone should be spoiling you,” Mrs. Elderhaus said. It wasn’t until he glanced over at his former teacher’s face that he realized she was talking about him and not his dog. An image of Ginger Walsh flashed before his eyes. He wouldn’t mind her spoiling him. Preferably while both of them were naked in his bed. She’d looked downhearted tonight, however, her sadness adding to his feeling of frustration. Suddenly, Gavin found himself wanting to spoil her.

  “I saw on Twitter that you’ve been in Wilmington all week,” she said. His surprise must have shown on his face. “What? I’m sixty-five, but that doesn’t mean I don’t keep up with the latest in social media. I do have grandkids.” She pulled her shoulders up proudly. “I was one of your first followers, I’ll have you know.” She gave him a look that said “So there” as Mr. Elderhaus mumbled something about birds and tweeting while settling into his recliner to watch Wheel of Fortune.

  Gavin ran his fingers through his hair in disbelief. When had he lost control of his private life?

  “I hope this girl up in Wilmington spoils you,” she was saying. “Because if she doesn’t, my niece up in Charlotte would do the job nicely. She’s a physical therapist, you know. Good with her hands.” Mrs. Elderhaus had the audacity to wink at him, and Gavin couldn’t get out of her kitchen fast enough.

  “I’ll see you later, Mrs. E. Night, Mr. E!” he called, as Midas squeezed out of the door beside him, nearly pulling it right back off its hinges.

  Mrs. Elderhaus giggled behind him. “I was young once, too, you know!”

  Forty minutes later he and Midas strolled through the quiet downtown area of Chances Inlet. The two had already finished their nightly check of Dresden House, securing the equipment before the night guard took over the watch. The plumbers and electricians were on schedule to finish before quitting time tomorrow, which would give everyone the weekend off. Still, Gavin felt anxious. One small delay could derail the entire production timetable. He’d feel better if everyone kept working round the clock, but then he’d likely have a full-scale mutiny on his hands. Unlike him, not everyone was counting the days until they got out of this town.

  He unclipped the leash and let Midas run along the sandy beach that surrounded the point at the end of Main Street where the Cape Fear River met the Atlantic Ocean. Dragging in a lungful of ocean air, Gavin contemplated this place that had been his home for most of his life. At night, when the town was sleepy and quiet, he could almost conceive of living here peacefully, forever. Almost.

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Will Connelly, Gavin’s best friend, was in town for the weekend with his wife and young son. Earlier, Gavin had asked him to check up on Cassidy. The girl had stormed out of the inn and down the two-mile gravel path toward the Seaside Vista Trailer Park before anyone could offer her a ride home. Cassidy and her mom lived in the same trailer where Will’s own mother had raised him. Unfortunately, Mona Burroughs didn’t possess the same strong maternal instincts as Annabeth Connelly Osbourne had.

  “She’s all tucked in safe and sound,” Will said when Gavin answered the phone. “There was no sign of Mona, but I’m driving up to Worms and Coffee now to make sure she’s at work like Cassidy said she was.” Cassidy’s mom worked at the all-night gas station/diner out near the interstate. Unfortunately, most nights she smoked and drank away her paycheck before her shift was over.

  “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

  “No problem. You sounded a little frazzled when you called earlier,” his friend of twenty-five years said. “Besides, it’s not even nine o’clock on a Thursday night and my pregnant wife was fast asleep before our son’s head hit the pillow. What else am I going to do for fun?”

  Gavin smiled to himself. Will hadn’t known about Julianne’s pregnancy with their son until after the baby was born and Owen needed a life-saving blood transfusion. Fortunately for Owen and his parents, everything worked out and the family would be expanding by one later this summer. Will was finally getting his opportunity to experience living with a pregnant wife and all that came with it. To be honest, Gavin thought his buddy had gotten off easy the first time around, but he didn’t dare mention that fact.

  “She’s here,” Will said. Gavin could hear the sound of his friend’s car tires crunching on the gravel parking lot. “Christ. It looks like she’s entertaining half the truckers east of I-95.”

  “Just as long as she doesn’t bring any of them home.”

  “What now? Do you want me to go find the boys?”

  “Nah,” Gavin said. “Those punks are all bark and no bite. They’re probably at home eating milk and cookies. I’ll deal with them this weekend.”

  “We need to do something. You sound way too stressed out,” Will said.

  Gavin’s friend knew him too well. “I’ve got news for you. I’m going to sound stressed out until this project is finished, my father’s debts are paid off and I’m free and clear of my obligations to my family and this freakin’ town.”

  “How did things go with the bank investigator this week?” Will asked. Gavin heard the sound of Will’s car in motion again.

  “Everyone is willing to forgive my dad’s creative accounting as long as Marvin Goldman honors his contract to buy Dresden House for the agreed-upon price.” Gavin whistled for Midas, who was drifting closer and closer to the crashing surf. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was give his dog a bath.

  “And what happens when everyone finds out Goldman owns it and not the McAlisters? Your dad promised Dresden House would be used as Chances Inlet’s historic welcome center and for special events. I’m pretty sure I heard the mayor say she wants to move her office in there.”

  Gavin reached down to throw a piece of driftwood to Midas. “The contract stipulates that he has to lease it back to the town for the next fifty years. No one’s gonna find out.”

  Will mumbled something under his breath. “You should have just let me help you out, Gavin. I’ve got gobs of money and for some reason my wife wants to pour it all back into this town. She could use Dresden House as her corporate headquarters for her clothing company. They’ve already outgrown the offices at the mill.”

  “Thanks,” Gavin said as he clipped the leash back on Midas’ collar. “But this way’s much more seamless. There is something else you can help me out with, though.”

  “Besides checking up on Cassidy and cracking a few teenage boys’ heads together?”

  Gavin laughed. His friend wasn’t known as William the Conqueror around the NFL for nothing. “It’s about Bernice.”

  He heard Will’s quick intake of breath. “Please, God, not Bernice. Ask me anything else, Gavin.”

  “She’s really very sweet and she means well.”

  “They said that about Paula Deen and look what happened there.”

  “As soon as the project is complete, I’ll be hauling ass out of this town.
When I close the doors of McAlister C and E forever, I don’t want Bernice left with nothing to do all day. She’s one of those people who needs a purpose to get out of bed every morning, or one day, she won’t get out of bed. Come on, man, she’s a great worker.”

  “Yeah, when she’s not whipping the town into a frenzy about something or other,” Will said.

  “I’ve offered her a buyout hoping she’d use the money to go on a trip and enjoy herself, but she’s not the type to enjoy sitting idle. Help me out here, man. It’s the last piece of the puzzle.”

  Will heaved a sigh. “I’ll ask Julianne if she has anything Bernice could do. Between the Second Chances Center and her clothing line, I’m sure there has to be something.”

  “Thanks, Will. I really do owe you one.”

  “I’m calling in my IOU right now, then. I don’t want to go home to my sleeping family. How about I pick up a six-pack and stop by the loft so I can school you in a game of pool?”

  Gavin still had at least another hour of drafting left to do tonight, but Will had just done him two huge favors, and a couple of hours kicking back with his best friend sounded a lot better than work right now. “You’re on,” he said.

  “See you in twenty,” Will replied.

  By the time Gavin managed to drag Midas past every sign and light post between the waterfront and the loft floor of the torpedo factory he’d painstakingly refurbished, the lights in the lower part of the building were already on. No way Will could have beaten him here. He stepped through the foyer of the ballet studio and was immediately mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

  Ginger Walsh gripped the barre with one hand, her left leg stretched out along its length while the rest of her body bent back in an evocative pose. Her right arm arched slightly before she slowly dragged her fingers up her torso, over her breasts and her shoulder, only to let it hang gracefully just above her tilted head. A soft moan escaped her lips as she went through the motion, and Gavin was painfully hard in an instant.