Keeping Her Close. Carol Ross
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weeks since arriving in Pacific Cove. Last night, he’d left Harper’s with the plan for them to meet back at her place this morning. They’d agreed on 8:30 as his official start time. Kyle smiled to himself as he thought about the look on her face when he’d proposed his “fitness plan.” He hadn’t been able to resist teasing her; she was so obviously nervous about this whole security thing. That easy laugh of hers was contagious, even though he recognized her joking around as a defense mechanism. He’d have to be careful about keeping her on track, emphasizing the importance of their task.
Mia was a veterinarian and co-owned a clinic in Pacific Cove. Her husband, Jay, was a former Coast Guard flight mechanic who’d recently started his own construction business. Their home was a large four-bedroom bungalow overlooking the ocean, but it didn’t feel nearly as large as the actual square footage. Two of the bedrooms were filled with Jay’s teenaged siblings, Levi and Laney, who Jay had legal custody of.
Until recently, Nora had occupied the fourth bedroom, but now she lived in a plush apartment above the garage that Jay had recently added on. Nora’s old room was now Jay’s office, which doubled as a sometimes bedroom for Jay’s youngest two siblings, Dean and Delilah, who lived with their other sister, Josie, but visited often and liked to sleep over.
Two dogs and four cats rounded out the total of occupants. And Mia’s dog, George, was roughly the size of two people. Currently, the mastiff-bloodhound mix was camped out under the dining room table with his massive head resting on Kyle’s feet. George was the sweetest dog in the world with a bad habit of eating anything that would fit between his massive jaws. Which gave Kyle an idea.
Leaning backward, he glanced under the table. “Georgie,” he whispered.
“I already tried it,” Levi said, reading his intention. “George won’t eat it.”
“Really? Dang.” That did not bode well. Kyle had seen George eat chunks of rotten seaweed like they were gravy-covered biscuits. Kyle picked up his fork and used it to flip up the top layer of the omelet. Taking a peek inside, he whispered, “What are the grayish-brown bits?”
“Pepitas,” Levi answered.
At Kyle’s confused headshake, Levi explained, “That’d be a pumpkin seed to you and me.”
“In an omelet?” The eggs at least would be good, courtesy of Nora’s cage-free, organically fed laying hens.
“Nora thinks they go in everything. She even puts them in those cookie things she makes.” To Kyle’s way of thinking, the “cookie things” weren’t truly cookies because they didn’t contain sugar. Still, he’d decided he could handle the sugar-free life better than the meatless one.
Kyle let out a dramatic sigh, and said wistfully, “You know, Levi, there was a time in my life when my mom made the best ham-and-cheese omelets on the planet.”
“Ham?” Levi quirked a skeptical brow. “You’re telling me Nora Frasier once ingested nitrite-laden, sodium-infused pork products?”
“Those were good times.”
They shared a chuckle.
“I still can’t believe you have two jobs!” Nora called from the kitchen.
Exchanging concerned glances, Kyle and Levi both hurriedly shoveled in several bites of omelet before Nora reappeared.
“I’m swallowing the peptides whole,” Kyle whispered. Levi laughed outright at his deliberate mispronunciation.
Soon after he’d arrived in Pacific Cove, Kyle had discovered that Levi also was not a fan of the meat alternatives Nora liked to ply them with when he’d come in late one night and found him frying bacon. The real stuff. No fakon for this kid. Kyle enthusiastically offered to help. They’d feasted on bacon sandwiches after which Levi showed Kyle his processed meat stash in the spare fridge in the garage. They’d taken to clandestinely going out for burgers whenever they could manage. No way would either of them risk hurting Nora’s feelings by confessing to these transgressions.
Nora hustled back into the room with her own plate. “And you found a place to live.”
“One job at a time, Mom.” Kyle grinned at Nora. “And the housing is temporary. In exchange for helping out a friend’s daughter, I’m going to stay in her guest cottage for a month. After I start at Dahlia, I’ll be able to find more permanent lodgings of my own.”
“And it’s right here in Pacific Cove?”
“Basically. It’s several miles south of town.”
“Who is it? Do I know these people?”
“I doubt you know them,” he hedged. Of course, his mom had heard of David Bellaire, but after Harper revealed that no one in Pacific Cove seemed aware of the association between her and her father, they decided to keep it that way. This was made easier because Harper used the last name Jansen, her mother’s maiden name, as her professional moniker. “They’re from Seattle, and the daughter has only been living here a few months.”
His mom had met Owen a couple of times when Kyle had brought him home with him on leave. But that had been years ago; she didn’t know him well. To his knowledge, she hadn’t been aware that Owen had been in a relationship. Kyle didn’t mention the association now because it would be a lot to explain without revealing Harper’s parentage. “Need to know” was ingrained in him right along with his sense of loyalty. Like a lot of habits that had kept him alive in his military career, he doubted he’d ever break that one either.
As it had too often since he’d been here in Pacific Cove, it struck him once again how little his family knew about him. Understandable to a degree, considering the circumstances of his career. The sad part was how little he knew about them. He’d been a terrible son to his mom and an even worse brother to Mia. He hadn’t even come home for Mia and Jay’s wedding. A fresh twist of regret and guilt tightened his chest.
“That’s great news! Isn’t that great news, Mia?” His mom, at least, didn’t seem to hold it against him. She tried so hard to make him feel like he belonged. Too hard, Kyle thought. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven so easily.
Kyle watched Mia in the kitchen beyond pouring a cup of coffee. Ten years in the military, eight of those in Special Forces, numerous life-and-death missions, and his big sister still made him nervous. As kids, they’d never had a great relationship or even a good one for that matter. Now, as an adult, Kyle understood why. Their dad, William Frasier, now deceased, but who they’d only recently learned was not Mia’s biological father, had always favored Kyle. Worse than that, he’d basically ignored Mia.
On an unspoken level, Kyle had known it was unfair, but he’d worshipped his navy officer father, so he’d never questioned his dad’s unequal treatment of his kids. Partially because, painful as it was to admit, he’d been the one to reap the benefits. He regretted that, and especially the wedge it had driven between him and Mia. Kyle wanted to fix it, or at least make it better; he just had no clue how to go about it. He wasn’t sure it was possible.
Mia entered the dining room and sat at the table opposite him. “That is good news,” she said in a tone that told Kyle the words didn’t equate to how she really felt. “Congratulations. But, when you start at Dahlia, you’ll be gone all the time anyway, right? So basically, it will be like you’re still in the navy.”
“Not exactly,” he said, even though his stomach pitched at the truth behind her words. He’d figure out a way to make it work.
“Dangerous assignments where you spend weeks or months overseas,” she intoned wryly. “Yeah, totally different.”
“I’ll be paid a lot more, and I’m out of uniform.” That sounded lame even to him.
“So, you’re doing it for the money?”
Kyle was grateful for the military training that kept him from reacting to his sister’s challenging stare. There didn’t seem to be much they could discuss without disagreeing. “I