What Belongs to Her. Rachel Brimble
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wryly.
God, he’d love to know what she thought of that John Jordon.
He sensed her study of him and turned. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes almost black as she stared with open curiosity. He snapped his eyes to the windshield and his armor slid into place with a resounding clunk inside his head. He’d been a good man, a good teacher and mentor for a long time. He liked that person and intended keeping him under wraps for the entirety of his time in the Cove. More and more people would soon know he was here and wonder why. He would find a way to leave Kyle without a penny of his immoral earnings and then leave.
Forging friendships—he glanced at Sasha—and starting to like people was out of the question. If he kept up the mystery surrounding himself, no one need know how he was venting an anger so deep it was shameful. The less Sasha got to know him, the easier he could leave town guilt-free because she had no idea who he really was and how much John actually cared about Kyle and the life he’d led without his only son.
Exhaling through gritted teeth, John swallowed his pride. One of them had to take the high road in the face-off growing at high velocity between them. “You’re going to have to give me directions to wherever it is you think we should head first.”
“What were you just thinking?”
God damn it. Can’t she keep any thoughts to herself? Lord knows it isn’t that difficult. “Nothing. Where are we going?”
“Fine.”
He stole another look at her as she hitched her elbow on the door and stared toward the amusement arcades lit up like a mini-Vegas beside them.
She sighed theatrically, waved her hand nonchalantly. “You want to play it cool and not afford me the luxury of getting to know you better, we’ll go to Marian’s. Maybe she’ll break you.” She laughed. “Scrap that. I know she’ll break you.”
“First of all, no one is breaking anyone. Second of all, who’s Marian? The idea isn’t morning coffee at someone’s house. I want to discover the hubbub of this supposedly quaint seaside town.”
“Supposedly quaint?”
He edged the car forward in the slow-moving traffic. “I’ll admit, on the surface Templeton Cove looks nice, picturesque, interesting even, but anywhere my father decided to live and work can’t be any of those things once a person scratches the surface.”
She scowled. “Templeton Cove isn’t Kyle’s creation, you know. The people who live here built this place. The decent people. The people who do their utmost to keep it clean, friendly and welcoming for the thousands of visitors who come every year. Not to mention the hundreds of people who live good, honest lives here. Your father was nothing more than a damn blemish on its crystal-blue horizon. And I for one say good bloody riddance to him.”
John smiled. “Bingo. Something we agree on.”
She glared. “We’re not agreed on anything until I know for sure what you want. How can you expect me to believe you’re not just going to pick up the illegal reins now Kyle’s gone? Why else would he pass over Freddy unless he knew you were much more of a suitable candidate for what he had in mind?”
John’s smile slipped. “I’m not here to pick up Kyle’s reins.”
“Then why?” Her eyes were hard, determined.
A horn sounded behind him, and she jumped. John snapped his gaze to the front. An empty gap of at least two car lengths stretched from the hood of his car to the junction. Cursing, he accelerated forward. “Which way?”
“Left.”
He joined the main road leading into town. “So, who’s Marian?”
“I assume the change of subject is your way of telling me to mind my own business?”
“I’m not answering any questions as far as Kyle’s concerned.”
She sniffed. “Fine.”
The next few seconds passed in strained silence before John released a heavy breath. “Is Marian a friend of yours?”
She sighed. “She owns a bakery by the beachfront. We’ll grab a coffee and I’ll introduce you. If you’ve got any strength left in that muscled body of yours once Marian’s finished with you, it’ll be a miracle.”
Muscled body? John savored the thought she’d noticed his body. At least it wasn’t just him imagining the heat between them. He shook his head and smiled. “If you haven’t managed to upset me, I don’t believe for one minute this Marian can be any more of a pain in the butt. I’ll be fine.”
John glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. She shot him a glare before turning to look out the side of the car. Score to him. He’d only driven a few hundred yards when brown-and-white signs along the side of the road indicated the beach, thus leading him in the general direction without the need for further conversation. Pressing on the gas, he concentrated on looking for the bakery, rather than the continual distraction of Sasha’s shapely legs showing beneath the hem of her white shorts.
He didn’t have to look far. A long queue of patrons waited to get inside Marian’s Bonniest Bakery. The shiny blue-and-white awning over the window boasted the owner’s name in bold white letters. As he drew closer, the smell of coffee and sweetness, which could only be the result of jelly doughnuts, brownies and every other sweet treat known to man, teased his nostrils.
“And here we are.” He pulled alongside the curb.
She sighed. “I am so looking forward to a cup of coffee...and this particular introduction.”
She leaned to the side and snapped off her seat belt. The caress of her dark hair brushed his forearm where he held the stick shift. John snatched his arm away, but not before her perfume hit him. The soft, floral and incredibly feminine scent shouldn’t have suited a woman so kick-ass, stubborn and mouthy as her, yet it did...perfectly. When his dick twitched in appreciation, he hurriedly removed his seat belt and yanked the keys from the ignition. “Let’s go.”
He snatched his glasses from the dash, opened the door and slammed it shut. He headed around the hood, but she was already waiting on the sidewalk before he had a chance to open her door. He dropped his outstretched hand to his side.
She stared at the bakery’s facade. “This place is never quiet, so even though I haven’t a clue what you’re expecting to gain from talking to a few people, you’ll have plenty to choose from.” She pointed toward the queue, a wide grin displaying her beautiful teeth. “Let’s wait in line, shall we?”
Still trying to figure out why she appeared to find the whole idea of him stepping inside the bakery so funny, John slipped on his glasses and followed her to the end of the queue. The line moved quickly as people ducked out of the shop and more entered. Four out of the five who came outside carried blue-and-white striped boxes as well as lidded cups of coffee.
“Seems everyone in town missed breakfast.”
“Believe me, it’s hard to leave Marian’s with just the coffee you came in for. You’ll find that out soon enough.”
“I don’t think so. I’m more a pastry-and-pie kind of guy.”
She laughed. “Then you’re a goner whether you like it or not.”
“What do you—”
“See?” She pressed her finger to the window, and John leaned over her shoulder to get a closer look.
Struggling not to inhale the scent of her again, his gaze fell on the trays of golden-brown pastries and breads, crispy sausage rolls and slices of homemade, ridiculously loaded pizza. He swallowed. “They have a gym in town, right?”
She laughed and pulled back, her shoulder bumping the center of his chest. He purposely and cruelly planted his feet solidly on the ground, waiting to see what she would do. The flush of color that rose in her face sent a rush of hot male pride through his veins.