Sea Glass Cottage Page 4

  Doc shook his head. “But no domestic violence issues during all that hype, right? I mean Thane was a helluva competitor on the field, but all those stories about him dating women had nothing to do with domestic violence issues, correct?”

  Belle shook her head. “No, not one. They were geared more about the hunky bachelor who refused to settle on one woman. It was only when that model, Alyson Benning, I think it was, got pregnant with his child that he seemed to change his attitude.”

  “Having a child gets your attention.”

  “But even then there was no scandal about violence, just a few stories about his off-the-field antics. Want me to look it up on the Internet?”

  Doc nodded. “Okay, that’s a start. As I recall he never failed a drug test either.” He looked around the empty waiting room, a rarity on a Friday afternoon. “It seems like we both have a chance to do a little research.”

  “Is that code for fishing or maybe a quickie in the empty exam room if we lock the doors?”

  Doc grinned. “I always did like the way you think. But no, this time, I really am turning on my computer to see what I can find out about him. You do the same and we’ll compare notes.”

  Inside Thane’s Range Rover, there was a round of awkward silence until he finally wanted to know, “Mind if I ask why you don’t drive a car?”

  “Who says I don’t drive? I drive.”

  “But you don’t own a vehicle? That’s the buzz.”

  “Maybe I have a Benz stored away somewhere gathering dust.”

  He wasn’t quite used to her sense of humor yet. But he was getting there. “Right. It’s probably sitting at the same place mine is.”

  Glancing around the interior of the older model Rover, she lifted a shoulder. “I’d ask you about your choice of vehicles but I figure that’s your business.”

  “I prefer old cars.” He tapped the dash with a loving hand. “My dad bought this Rover used from a guy over in Santa Cruz in 1994. I remember making the drive over there with him to pick it up. We had to tow it because it didn’t even run. But together we fixed it up and look at it now.”

  “So this has sentimental value? I get that. I don’t own a car because I haven’t gotten around to buying one yet. Look around you. It’s a small town. Getting from point A to B is fairly quick and simple.”

  “Unless you’re riding down the middle of the road...”

  “And encounter a crazy person. Don’t start with me again.”

  “When you get ready to buy one, I know a guy who’ll give you a great deal.”

  “Really? Sure.” She changed the subject back to him. “So you grew up here? In Pelican Pointe?”

  Thane bobbed his head in answer. “Lived over on Landings Bay in the house I now share with Jonah. Graduated San Sebastian High School—where I hope to send him one day. When my mom died last year, I inherited the house. She’d been battling breast cancer for almost three years. Her death happened just about the same time in the off-season I found out that the narrowing in my vertebrae was a career ender. One more hit and I could suffer paralysis.”

  He shook his head. “With a kid, it just wasn’t worth the risks. What with my mom’s death and that cheery news, both pretty much coincided with the need to get my son away from the spotlight. So I packed up everything and came back here.”

  “And just like that decided to open up a pizza place? Do you know anything about making pizza, the good kind, not that cardboard crap?”

  “I wouldn’t put my name out there to serve cardboard crap.”

  “Do you even cook?”

  “Are you kidding? With a kid, believe me I fix my fair share of meals. Just because I own a pizza parlor though doesn’t mean I’ll be the one making the crust. I’ll hire people to do that.”

  “Have you already filled that position?”

  He turned his eyes from the road long enough to look at her. “You want to make pizza? For the asshole neighbor who almost ran you down? That’s a one-eighty from this morning.”

  “We both know it was a close call for both of us. Besides, I could use a job and something to do with my time.”

  “I thought you worked for Logan and Kinsey as their nanny.”

  She filled the car with a loud sigh. “I’m not officially the nanny. People spot you pushing a stroller a couple of times along the sidewalk and automatically figure you’re the nanny. Hasn’t anyone noticed Kinsey works out of her house every day?” She waited a beat. “I guess not. I go over there to help her out with the kids, give her a break from diaper duty and feeding. Anyway, sometimes I watch the twins to give her and Logan a chance to have a little alone time. Having two babies is a handful. That’s all there is to it. You didn’t answer my question.”

  “About the job? I have the position filled. A friend I know from New York wants to make a new start somewhere else. He was here in August to check the place out. He’ll be back in a couple weeks to set things up.”

  “So he knows how to make pizza?”

  “Fischer Robbins knows how to make just about anything from pan-seared Ahi to a perfect grilled steak. He worked as the sous chef at the bar I used to hang out at, makes the best New York pizza you’ll ever put in your mouth. That’s how I got the idea.”

  “I still can’t get over it. Thane Delacourt moves here and opens a pizza parlor. That’s a mighty big drop in limelight. Although I suppose people will probably come from miles around just to get a chance to eat at your place and get an autograph. The legend of Thane Delacourt will always be a force around these parts.”

  He grinned. “Every town needs a good legend, don’t you think? What’s your story?”

  She stiffened. “I don’t have one.”

  “Sure you do. Everyone has a story. You just don’t want to share it with me while mine, mine’s an open book for anyone who goes online to judge or enjoy as they see fit.”

  “I wouldn’t like that at all.”

  “Not many do.”

  “When did you lose your father?”

  “A couple months after Jonah was born. By that time my dad had discovered he had pancreatic cancer at a routine doctor’s visit. He died within the year.”

  “So your mother took over caring for your son before she died?”

  He nodded. “That is, until she got too sick to do it. She and my dad were living with me in New York during the season. That way when I would go out of town on road games, my parents could watch Jonah, get to spend some time with their grandson. I’m glad they got that time with him even if Jonah doesn’t remember my dad. There are pictures though so I’ll be able to tell him about the grandfather he never knew. Now, Jonah has no living grandparents. But he does remember my mom reading to him and playing certain board games with him, which is good.”

  “I’m so sorry. It sounds like you’ve had several rough years back to back. I know what that’s like. I lost my dad three years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. What about your mother?”

  “She died in a car accident when I was in my teens. You never quite get over the traumatic loss of your parents.”

  He pursed his mouth. “Very true. But you don’t know the half of it. If losing them wasn’t bad enough, I had to come to the realization that my string of less-than-stellar life choices had to come to an end. During the time I played football I wasn’t exactly known for my restraint. I did a lot of stupid things with a lot of stupid people. I’m willing to admit I made some bad decisions, bad choices. Alyson was one of those. Of course, if I hadn’t met her, I wouldn’t have Jonah. So, in a way my, recklessness had an upside. When I found out about Jonah, that’s when I straightened my life out. Once he entered the picture I knew I had to become both mommy and daddy.”

  “You know, you can’t say something that profound and not get the ultimate question. Where is Jonah’s mother?”

  Thane felt himself flinch at the question. “You don’t know? For real? You might be the only person on the planet or at least in town who doesn’t know. Alyson�
�s gone. She was heavily addicted to drugs even before I met her. One night she called me up at two in the morning after a road game, dropped the bombshell that she’d had my baby. Of course, I didn’t believe her. I thought she was running a con and just wanted money. But she persisted until I had my lawyer ask for a DNA test. One day I got a call after practice. The test confirmed Jonah’s paternity and a few other things I didn’t want to hear.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the fact that Jonah had major health problems.”

  Isabella sat back as if deep in thought. Then it hit her. “Oh my God. She was on crack before the baby was born?”

  “Yeah. I found out later the crack made Alyson psychotic. Jonah was born addicted to the damn stuff. He had a rough go of it for the first year of his life. But he’s like his old man. He’s a fighter.”

  “Poor little guy.”

  “After learning about the drug use, I fought for full custody. When he was a little over four months old the judge made it official. He was mine. About a month later though I got the call that Alyson had overdosed.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to send Isabella a lethal stare. “Don’t look at me like that. My winning custody had nothing to do with what Alyson eventually did to herself. I’m convinced she didn’t give a shit about Jonah. And before you ask, I didn’t know when I got together with her that she was that heavy into cocaine. She didn’t have a sign on her forehead that read, ‘danger, danger, I’m a crack addict.’ All I knew was that she had made the cover of a couple magazines, hung out with famous people, did the name-dropping thing. So if you’re thinking of judging me, it won’t do you any good because I’ve judged myself about seven hundred and fifty times already. It’d be a little hard for anyone else to catch up.”

  “I wasn’t going to judge you. We all make mistakes we regret.”

  He narrowed his focus on those lovely green eyes. “Which makes me ask, what were yours?”

  The sigh she let out filled the interior of the car. “Let’s just say, they’ve been doozies and leave it at that.”

  “Fair enough. I know the desire for privacy. Unfortunately, there’s very little I’ve been able to keep from public scrutiny about my own life.”

  “The price of NFL fame?”

  “That’s one way of looking at it. I like to think since I got all that out of my system early, I’ve reached a point where I deserve a little solitude, somewhere I can raise my son away from the spotlight.”

  “I don’t think I could handle the fishbowl.”

  “I don’t want that for Jonah,” he said as he pulled up next to the keeper’s cottage and cut the engine. “It’s pretty up here. You have a great view of the entire bay.”

  For the first time since getting in the car, her lips curved. “It is. Peaceful. Talk about solitude. I love it here. Even though it has a bit of a spooky history.” She told him about the serial killer and the bodies they’d found in the woods last year.

  “Yeah. Carl Knudsen. Weird guy. I remember when I was a kid going into his drugstore to pick up Band Aids or whatever for my mom and he’d watch me like a hawk afraid I’d steal something. My mom used to say he gave her the willies.”

  Isabella tossed out the name Scott Phillips, determined to include him among the area’s colorful past.

  Thane nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard those stories too about the soldier. I remember him a little bit. I’d expect that kind of thing from Professor Hawkins because he’s a little out there to believe that stuff. But I’m surprised you buy into it, too.”

  “Because I’ve seen him walking up here on the cliff. Scott not Wade. And believe it or not, his presence makes me feel secure like he’s watching over me.” That admission made her sound like a nutcase. She met Thane’s doubting eyes. “I know how it sounds. But I also know what I’ve seen.”

  “I reserve the right to be a skeptic,” Thane said, checking his watch. “Okay, here’s the deal. I have to pick Jonah up from school. Will you be all right here for forty-five minutes or so until I can make it back?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Sorry. That ship sailed. I’m picking up Jonah and coming back here. You have to be starving. I know I am. We both missed lunch. I’ll stop and pick something up from the Diner. Any preferences? Now’s the time to make them known.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  Her protest was interrupted. “Don’t even start with me. My mind’s made up. If your stomach can stand waiting, I’ll be back with food. Give me the prescription Doc wrote for you.”

  “I’d planned to take a couple of ibuprofen instead.”

  “Come on, hand it over, no need to be stubborn about it. I’ll drop it off at the pharmacy while I pick up the food. Where’s your phone?”

  “Why?”

  “I need your number so I can tell you when I’m headed back. You need mine if you should think of anything else you need while I’m at the pharmacy or the Diner. Also it’ll come in handy if you need to go back to the doctor.”

  How could she argue with an offer that nice and neighborly? She dug the folded piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it off.

  “Now was that so hard?”

  “I guess not.”

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  “And with a little boy, right?”

  “And a little boy,” he answered, his brow turning into a deep furrow. “Does that bother you, me bringing Jonah by?”

  “Not at all. I’m looking forward to meeting your son.”

  Chapter Three

  After months of planning Tradewinds Boatyard had become a reality.

  As the week drew to a close, business partners, Ryder McLachlan, Zach Dennison, and Troy Dayton, had seen to it. They’d lived and breathed and practically slept with each other for the past two months to make sure they were ready to begin building boats as soon as the first order came in.

  The trio had spent long grueling days cleaning out the rat-infested hole—a hole the three of them jointly owned—getting the table saws in place, ordering supplies and getting down to business. The day they got their first order via fax, they’d looked at each other in stunning realization knowing this was the real deal.

  “It’s official. Nick says the wire transfer cleared from somewhere in the Cayman Islands—a viable deposit—the balance will be paid on completion and delivery of the sailboat we designed.” Zach held up a six-pack of beer. “Today we celebrate.”

  Ryder turned from the plans he’d drawn up with the help of a software program and said, “So do we know yet who this mysterious client is? So far all we’ve seen are faxes, a few emails and the cash.”

  “Maybe we’re building this gorgeous 22-footer for some gangster on the other side of the world,” Troy speculated as only a guy of twenty-two could.

  “Maybe,” Ryder noted. “Do we know for a fact this isn’t for your friend, Jacob Hettinger?”

  “It isn’t Jacob,” Zach said with a shake of his head. “He’s still going back and forth with what he wants. And frankly, I’m glad it isn’t him. Until Jacob figures out exactly what it is he wants, I’d just as soon not start building anything at all.”

  “Good thinking. So, whoever it is, all we know is their deposit cleared and they’ll pick this baby up here in three months in Pelican Pointe,” Troy pointed out.

  “You got it. You know as much about the buyer as I do. But as long as their money is good, do we really care who it is? They didn’t ask us to design any secret compartments for smuggling so that’s always a good sign,” Zach cracked, twisting the top off a brew.

  “All I’m saying is our design kicks ass,” Ryder went on with pride. “Kyle said this was the best design he’d seen in five years. And we’re just starting out. Imagine what we’ll be creating ten years down the road.”

  “That’s why we hired Kyle Graham as consultant,” Zach touted with a grin. “He knows talent when he sees it.”

  “Our first boat design and just look at all that beautiful te
ak we plan to use on the deck,” Troy said in awe at the lumber stacked high on one side of the room.

  “According to his latest Hotmail account, the client wants a little more flare across the hull and for us to put in a slightly wider cockpit to curve right about here,” Ryder said tapping the computer screen. “We do both those things and I guarantee this little baby will fly through the water. You watch and see.”

  Zach nodded. “Put the storage lockers under the full seat here, add a separate battery locker about here, add in the racing package our client ordered and we’re talking Tradewinds Boatyard’s first real beauty right off our very own assembly line.”

  “In ninety days,” Troy said. “Not only will we deliver this boat on time but when we do, it will be the perfect craft for either a day sail or a weekender. Whoever it is will get a helluva boat. Wish we knew who it was.”

  “Do you plan to let the fact we haven’t seen our client’s face bother you?”

  “I’d just like to know who it is. That’s all.”

  “I wouldn’t mind knowing that myself,” Ryder admitted.

  About that time, Zach looked up to see Drea Jennings standing in the open doorway. The pretty brunette held a beautiful fall bouquet of mums and daisies. “Sorry to interrupt but I have a delivery.”

  “For us?” Troy said in wonder. “Are those for Bree? I know she’s working with you to do our wedding flowers but I didn’t order these.”

  Drea laughed. “No, I’m sure these are for you, all three of you in fact. Here’s an idea. Someone read the card and find out who ordered them.”

  “Good idea,” Zach said, taking the vase from the lovely florist and handing it off to Ryder.

  While Zach snatched the card attached from its plastic holder and opened the envelope, Ryder stood there stuck with the bowl of flowers. “The card says, ‘From one business owner to another, congratulations on Tradewinds Boatyard, Nick and Jordan.’ Wow, that’s a classy gesture from the banker and his wife. Makes me feel more part of the town and I’ve lived here my whole life.”