Page 22 of The Marine's Homecoming

With the news I just got, I have no interest in speaking with him anywhere, let alone privately in his office, but he's my landlord and he's the man whose property we will use for the festival. I can't just ignore him and be rude.

"Sure," I say quietly, hoping he doesn't see the undercurrent of anxious nausea I'm feeling.

Luke steps back, opening his door for me to pass, and then comes in after me, closing us into the tiny space. He has a map spread on his desk with large swaths of it slashed through with red marker, and a big green X on the shoreline close to the piers. I walk closer to examine it further and assume this is his way of trying to cooperate with the festival plans.

"What's this?" I ask, feigning ignorance, though I can clearly see he's crossed off the property to the north, closer to his house.

"So this," he says, standing way closer than he needs to. His cologne invades my nostrils against my will, and so does the musk of his natural body odor. He doesn't smell bad at all, but I can tell he's been working and it's arousing being this close to him. It makes it hard to focus as he says, "This is a map I drew up for us."

God, and he says "us" as if we're doing this together. It makes my cheeks burn as I grit my teeth. He's so handsome and so fucking close to me.

"The red parts are the parts of the property that either aren't safe for people or that I don't really want them to be in. You see over here" —he leans in, pointing at the natural rock shelf to the south where Nick and I used to fish when we were younger— "is dangerous. And this…" He points at the homestead as I look up into his eyes and see he's not looking at the map at all. His gaze is locked on my face. "Is the house, so I'm not really wanting festival attendees up there."

I nod, pressing my lips together to avoid licking them or biting them. Then I force a smile I'm sure he can see right through. I'mcarrying this man's baby. A little mini-Luke, probably with his eyes and maybe that dimple in his chin. And if it's a little boy, he's gonna be just like his dad.

"You okay?" he asks, reaching up to touch my cheek. When his thumb swipes over my cheekbone, I feel the moisture and realize I'm crying.

My fucking God, I'm so emotional.

"Uh," I say, reaching up to touch my face, "yeah… I just thought of fishing with Nick down the shore."

Luke smiles but he doesn't pull his hand away from my face. He keeps it there protectively as he smiles softly. "Yeah, he really loved fishing, didn't he?"

My heart thumps against my ribs and I feel myself leaning into his palm, wanting to feel his fingers trace my cheek again. And then I realize if I don't walk out of this office right now, I’m going to kiss him. And if I kiss him, I will break down and want to have sex again. And after that the news of my pregnancy will erupt from me like Mount Vesuvius, and then my life is over.

"I, uh… I have to go," I say, backing away hastily. "Please send me a copy of your map, alright? I'll send it to Calvin." I keep walking backward as I watch anger flash through Luke's eyes at the mention of Calvin Dorsey's name.

I'm an idiot in so many ways. One of them is mentioning that name around Luke when he's already told me his distaste for the man. Another is for letting myself get so close to him.It was just sex, Hannah, nothing more.

"You don't have to rush off. You didn't even have a beer…" Luke is still speaking when I dart out the door and up the pier toward my boat.

I need to let Mr. Dorsey handle the rest of the plans if I'm going to survive the next few months before the festival. And if I want this to go off without a hitch—or any of the drama I fear might explode around the announcement of this baby—I need to keep my distance from Luke.

Otherwise, I'll have to add that on top of the repairs, running my business, planning my festival, and trying to save the economy of this small town.

Wow, I could use a drink.

15

LUKE

More men carrying heavy equipment crates walk past my office window, causing my suspicions to rise. For the past few weeks they've been trucking in things Hannah tells me are equipment shipments for the festival, but red flags are waving everywhere. It's early April, and they don't even have the stage structure planned yet, let alone the barricades up to protect their crates, yet they're already bringing things in. Something doesn’t sit right with me.

I rise and walk to the window where I watch muscled men cloaked in dark clothing with heavy tattoos on their arms struggle past. It's clear the crates are heavy, but they bear no markings on the outside other than red cautioned banners that readFragileandThis Way Up. I try not to be too nosy—I know that's a bad trait for small-town folks—but my gut tells me it isn't festival equipment in those crates.

My hand slides into my pocket and I pull out my phone. Rico hasn't checked in for a while. I asked him more than a month ago to pull up whatever dirt he could on Calvin Dorsey after he, too, said the name sounded familiar. It's been long enough thathe's got to have something, and I'm tired of waiting. With the suspicious activity going on, I want an update sooner rather than later.

"Yeah," Rico says, picking up almost instantly. "Maddox, I meant to call you."

My eyes track another pair of men and another crate traveling past my office window as I say, "Yeah, well you didn't… Care to tell me what you found when you dug around?"

There's no point in my trying to track every single movement they make. It's exhausting me and keeping my nervous system locked in fight mode, and I'm too tired to continue at this pace. I walk back over and slump into the desk chair where I was going over repair bills. Some of these things are getting astronomical. I'll have to take out a loan if this doesn't stop.

"It was nothing for a long time, buddy. I dug into everything I could think of. That name just sat wrong with me for weeks." On Rico's end of the line I hear shuffling of paperwork, then keys typing. I know he's back from his leave and probably at his desk running strategy assessments, but this can't wait. If Hannah's buddy is up to no good on my property, I don't want to take a fall with him, or let her take a fall, either.

"But?" I ask, picking up the pen on the desk and clicking the end. It's a nervous habit I have that helps calm me.

"But I found something. It was just last week and I got confirmation yesterday, and I was going to call but we had this work thing…" More typing on his end and he sighs hard. "You sitting down?"