Summer at the Shore (Seashell Bay Book 2) Page 19

  Miss Annie exhaled a weary sigh. “Poor Morgan. She’s been trying so hard, and all she gets is one setback after another. Still, if I know that girl, she’ll find a way to bounce back. I always told her father that she was the most resourceful young lady I’d ever met. She and my sweet granddaughter Lily. Like peas in a pod, those two.”

  “That’s what we’re here about, Miss Annie,” Ryan said. “We’re worried about Morgan. The fire has really kicked the, uh . . .”

  “Stuffing out of her,” Aiden interjected.

  Miss Annie scoffed. “You don’t need to protect my delicate ears, Aiden Flynn. And I’m sure Morgan knows that, whatever she needs, we’ll be there to help. I don’t know a soul on the island who doesn’t love that girl.”

  That sounded good, but he needed something more concrete. “Here’s the thing, Miss Annie. The insurance that Cal had on the place isn’t going to cover the costs—not even close.”

  “Especially not if Morgan has to hire contractors to do the work,” Aiden said.

  “And that’s where we come in,” Ryan said. “Aiden and me. Josh, Brett, and Micah too. We’re ready to do as much of the work as we can ourselves, so that’ll cut the costs down a lot. But even with all that, the bill is still going to be huge. It’s going to take a lot of new material and a lot of hours of skilled workmanship for the stuff our guys can’t do. And then there’s all the replacement furniture on top of that.”

  “Morgan has no resources beyond what she’ll get from insurance, Miss Annie, and the deductible is a killer,” Aiden added as Roy arrived with huge mugs of black coffee.

  “I’ve offered to lend her money,” Ryan said. “Aiden too. She won’t take it because she’s not sure she’ll be able to pay it back.”

  “That sounds like Morgan all right.” Miss Annie slapped her thin, blue-veined hands on her khaki-clad legs. “That means we’ll just have to raise the funds she needs, won’t we? I presume that’s what you boys came here to talk about?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said. Miss Annie was probably already a step ahead of him. Relief flooded through his veins, and the hammering that had been going on in his head all morning started to recede.

  “That’s all well and good, Annie,” Roy piped up, “but maybe the fool girl will be too proud to take that kind of help either.”

  Roy was just being Roy. He loved Morgan and hadn’t intended to disparage her. Besides, there might be truth to his words.

  Still, Miss Annie shot her boyfriend a steely glare. “The only fool around here is you, you old codger.” Then her attention switched back to Ryan. “While Seashell Bay folks are nothing if not proud, we take care of each other. I’ll make sure the girl accepts our help.”

  Ryan smiled at her. As a kid, he’d wanted nothing more than to escape the stifling confines of the island and see what the world had to offer. Now he’d seen more than his share, and too much of it had left a bad taste in his mouth. Whatever the drawbacks of life in a small town like Seashell Bay, folks did take care of their own. If you needed help, you got it. In his book, that unquestioning generosity was starting to count for a hell of a lot.

  “Could we ask you to take over that part of the operation, Miss Annie?” he asked. “There’s nobody better to head up a fund-raising campaign than you.” He took a swallow of Roy’s superstrong, sludgy coffee and nearly gagged. “Just don’t let Roy make the coffee for any of the events.”

  “Hell, boy, you are a pussy,” Roy said with a smirk. “That coffee will put hair on your scrawny chest.”

  “You did a hell of a job organizing the battle against the car ferry,” Aiden said, ignoring Roy’s barb. “That’s the kind of effort we’d need.”

  She waved her hand. “Lily can take most of the credit for that. But it did turn out rather well, didn’t it?”

  “It did at that,” Aiden said with a smile. “For everyone on the island.”

  “Well, we’re not about to let that sweet old inn close its doors for good,” Miss Annie said with conviction. “It might not be the Ritz, but it’s an institution around here, and we’re darn well not going to let it die if we can help it. It would be like letting a piece of our history die.”

  Ryan hadn’t thought of it that way, but Miss Annie was right. The inn had changed hands a number of times, but it had been in operation for decades—first as an old-fashioned boardinghouse and then as a small family hotel.

  “I took a run down there after dinner yesterday,” Roy said. “Looks to me like you got a big demolition job, for starters.” He poked a bony finger against his chest. “So listen up, because this is the guy you want for that kind of work. I did that stuff for a living back when the T. rex was kicking the shit out of everything else.”

  Ryan remembered how adamant Miss Annie had been that Roy not be involved in anything dangerous when they were repairing the B&B’s roof.

  But she simply eyed Roy and then nodded. “If these boys are foolish enough to want you there, then fine. But if you fall through the ceiling or something, it’s straight into the nursing home for you, Roy Mayo. I’m not taking care of some codger who tries to act like he’s still thirty years old.”

  “Yeah, well, in some ways, it’s like I still am thirty, isn’t that right, Annie?” He gave Ryan a wink.

  Miss Annie shot him a look that should have slayed him dead. Ryan figured he and Aiden better get out of there fast before all hell broke loose.

  “I’ll talk to Lily as soon as she gets home tonight,” Aiden said, backing toward the door. He probably felt as alarmed as Ryan did at the prospect of hearing details of Roy and Miss Annie’s sex life. “You know she’ll want to be on your fund-raising committee.”

  Miss Annie popped to her feet. “The girl’s busy. She’s getting married soon, or have you somehow forgotten that?”

  Aiden’s grin made it clear to Ryan that he was used to his future grandmother-in-law yanking his chain. “Yeah, but don’t forget that Morgan’s her maid of honor.”

  “Then we’d darn well better make sure that the maid of honor is happy so they can have a good time at the wedding,” Miss Annie added. “I’m looking at you when I say that, Ryan Butler,” she said, turning her eagle eye on him.

  The old gal was nothing if not perceptive and direct.

  “Got it, ma’am,” Ryan said. “Loud and clear.”

  Morgan eased her pickup through the gap between the hedge and the two Kingsley Restoration trucks that clogged the driveway. She parked beside the annex and headed in through the kitchen door, automatically glancing around to see if Ryan was there. Boy, she missed him. Though they’d seen a lot of each other since the fire, no longer sleeping under the same roof had brought home how quickly she’d become used to his reassuring presence.

  She’d followed his advice to treat herself to lunch and a stroll through the shopping district after meeting with the insurance adjuster. After a painful discussion with Delaney, she’d needed it. First she’d tried to relax at Starbucks with a decaf latte and a copy of USA Today that someone had left on the table. That had been an utter failure, so she’d pulled out some paper and a pencil and jotted down rough estimates of what she figured it was going to cost to replace each item of lost furniture. When she totaled up the figures and compared it to what Delaney had said the insurance was going to pay, she’d come up with a horrifying deficit.

  New furniture was simply out of the question.

  Hopefully Ryan had been right when he said they should be able to find replacements by trolling consignment and secondhand shops and maybe even auctions. In fact, she’d even felt a little frisson of pleasure when she thought about the two of them poking their way around Portland or even farther afield. It was such a thoroughly domesticated and couple-like thing to do, and something she’d certainly never have imagined doing with her Soldier Boy.

  She dropped her keys and bag on the kitchen counter. “Ryan? Are you still here?” she called out.

  “Upstairs.” His voice barely carried over the lo
w, steady whine of the industrial dehumidifiers Kingsley had placed on both floors.

  She went out to the hall and headed upstairs. Ryan emerged from the guest room she’d been using before the fire, his big work boots clomping on the pine floor. As always, seeing his gorgeous, masculine self had her stomach going kind of funny.

  “Huh.” She dropped her gaze to her cute summer sandals. “Maybe I should be wearing work boots up here too.”

  Ryan’s mouth quirked into a grin. “You’d look darn cute in them. Especially if that was all you were wearing. Now that’s a fantasy I could get down with.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but she regrouped. “I see your dirty mind has already returned. I don’t know whether to call that progress or regression.”

  “I was just trying to see if a day in the city had lightened you up a bit,” he said, moving closer. “Tell me you managed to have at least a little fun.”

  Not so much. Most of the time when I wasn’t agonizing over the B&B, I was tying myself up in knots about how much I was going to miss you when you go.

  Even with everything else she had to worry about, Morgan couldn’t shake the image of Ryan waving good-bye to her from the ferry. Yes, he’d said he’d stay until the inn was back on its feet—or closed—but the day would come all too soon when he’d go back to his life.

  His real life.

  “It was a good idea,” she said brightly. “I’m glad you pushed me to do it.”

  “And how was your friend Delaney? I think he has a big-time crush on you.”

  Morgan answered with a little snort. “He’s being helpful, at least for an insurance adjuster.”

  Ryan made a fake grimace. “Okay, now I am jealous.”

  Morgan couldn’t believe how upbeat he seemed. He’d been solid and supportive every minute since the fire, and now he was practically bouncing on his toes. “Why do I get the feeling something’s going on here?”

  He grasped her elbow in a gentle grip and steered her back to the stairs. “Let’s go outside and talk. I’m done up here for now.”

  Despite her pleasure at the feeling of his hand on her arm, anxiety stirred. What did he want to talk about now?

  “Let’s go down to the beach,” he said. “I’d like to say hello to my kayak. She must be thinking I’ve abandoned her again.”

  His joking words had her wincing with guilt. “Oh, dear. Well, if you’re talking about a plastic boat like it’s a woman, I’d say she must hate my guts since I’m the one keeping you two lovers apart.”

  He interlaced his fingers with hers as they strolled down the path to the dock. It felt so comforting, so right. Why couldn’t he see what she did? That what was happening between them was more than just simple friendship spiced with a healthy dose of hormones.

  “I’ll make it up to her eventually,” he said. “Once we start to get this place in some semblance of shape, I’ll have a paddle in my hands every day until I leave.”

  And there it was—the answer to her unspoken question. Ryan was always going to leave.

  “I hope so,” she said, forcing a smile. “Otherwise, I won’t survive the self-imposed guilt trip from hell.”

  He squeezed her hand. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about. Whatever I’m doing, it’s because I want to.”

  She squeezed back, too touched to say anything without bursting into stupid tears.

  He guided her off the path, and they walked hand in hand across a strip of grass to the narrow beach, where the seaweed-strewn sand was exposed at low tide. “I’ve been thinking hard about the money we need for repairs.”

  “Me too.” She pulled on his arm, forcing him to stop. “I’ve decided to call my bank in Pickle River and see if there’s any way I can get a second mortgage on my house. Maybe I’ll be able to get enough to cover the shortfall from the insurance.”

  Unfortunately, she didn’t have all that much equity yet, but it was worth a shot.

  Ryan stared at her as if she’d told him she was going to rob the bank, not ask for a loan. “A second mortgage? Seriously? After you told me you were going to have a hard time making your current payments until you go back to teaching?”

  “Ryan, what other options do I have? We obviously have to get the damage repaired and get back in business. After that, if the debt load is just too high to manage, Sabrina and I will have to put Golden Sunset up for sale.”

  Morgan dreaded the conversation she was going to have with her sister about that. But Morgan was the one who would have to absorb the loans and the debt, and she couldn’t afford to ruin her credit rating—especially since she would probably be supporting Sabrina for the rest of her life.

  “That’s not going to happen,” Ryan said. “We don’t need to let it happen. That’s what I wanted to tell you,” he added in a patient voice.

  She scrunched her nose at him. “I’m sorry. I should shut up and listen.”

  He dropped a kiss on her nose, pulling back before she could react. “Yeah, Miss Bossy, you should.”

  She smiled back. “Bossy? Me? You must be talking about some other hard-up innkeeper. I’m the mildest-mannered person you’d ever want to meet.”

  He snorted, pulling her down with him onto the sand. She sat close to him, letting her shoulder touch his, and hugged her knees.

  “Look, I get it,” he said. “Maybe because we’ve both spent so much time away from the island, we think we have to do everything on our own.”

  “Maybe,” she said tentatively.

  “And that’s nuts, because if there’s one place in the whole damn world where you can count on folks, it’s Seashell Bay. Nobody here wants to see Golden Sunset close down, and everybody loves you and Sabrina.” He bumped his shoulder against hers. “Everybody.”

  Her heart practically leapt into her throat.

  Ryan carried on like he hadn’t just brought her to her emotional knees. “People want to help, Morgan. All you have to do is reach out and let them in on how much trouble you’re in. Until you do, people are going to think you’ll be okay because of the insurance.”

  She fastened her gaze on the beach, poking around a bit as if searching for sea glass hidden amongst the pebbles and sand. “I’ve never been too good on that score,” she finally admitted.

  “No, all you do is help other people,” he said gently. “Now it’s time to let them help you.”

  That sounded good, but what did it entail? She couldn’t bear the thought of being indebted to the people she’d grown up with.

  Ryan shifted to look directly at her. The tenderness and open warmth in his dark gaze seized her breath. All she could do was stare back at him as her insides went soft with love and her brain went stupid with longing.

  “Morgan, there’s a good chance we can get the B&B back up and running without it costing you anything more than what you’ll get from the insurance,” he said. “And you won’t have to owe anybody a dime.”

  That jolted her out of her goofy, romantic haze. “How, by selling lottery tickets?” She widened her eyes at him.

  He laughed. “We can manage better odds than that. For starters, I’ve put together a crew to help me do a lot of the basic construction work. Aiden’s on board and so are Micah, Josh, and Brett. Even Roy’s offered to help with demolition.”

  Any moment now she was going to burst into tears, so she resorted to lame humor. “Jesus, no,” she said, pretending to clutch her chest. “I can’t be responsible for Roy’s untimely demise. But seriously, I can’t tell you how much that means to me—and what it will mean to Sabrina too.”

  “We’re all happy to do it. The only work you’ll have to pay for is the electrical repairs and a little plumbing. Aiden’s pretty sure that Brendan will donate his time to do the finishing carpentry we need.” He gave her a look that said she didn’t have a choice in the matter. “We’re not going to stand around and let the B&B shut down or see you buried under a mountain of debt.”

  She sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down and think.
As awesome as this all was, it wasn’t nearly enough. “But the cost of the materials, the electricians, the plumbers, the upstairs furniture . . .” The figures she’d added up a few hours ago remained fresh in her mind. “I’ll still have to get a second mortgage—if somebody will give me one.”

  “No you won’t. Free labor is only half the answer,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “Fund-raising is the other half.”

  Uh-oh. She knew it was too good to be true.

  “A lot of folks on this island are going to be happy to open their wallets to support you and make sure Golden Sunset stays alive. Miss Annie’s already agreed to head up a fund-raising drive, and you know how persuasive that lady can be.”

  “Um, okay,” she said cautiously.

  Morgan didn’t know what to think. She’d taken part in dozens of fund-raising drives over the years in Seashell Bay but had never for a moment thought she might one day be the subject of one. She instinctively rebelled at the idea of being reduced to a charity case. But it wasn’t just about her. There was Sabrina to think about, along with the trust her father had placed in Morgan to make things right. If there was ever a time to swallow her pride, it was now.

  Ryan patiently waited her out.

  “You were the one who came up with all this, weren’t you? With everything.” It was almost too much to comprehend all that he’d done for her. How could she ever repay him?

  And how could she ever find the strength to keep it together when he finally walked away?

  He waved a dismissive hand, now starting to look a bit uncomfortable. “Aiden was all over it too.”

  She sensed his discomfort with all the emotion and did a pullback. “So, while I was screwing around in the city, eating sushi and, yes, having a beer, you were putting together a plan and enlisting an army. Nice morning’s work, Butler.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Don’t give me any medals just yet. If I hadn’t done it, I’m sure Lily and Aiden and Miss Annie would have been right there anyway.”

  “Well, you do deserve a medal,” she said. “I’m so grateful. I don’t even know how to begin to repay you, but I’ll find a way. I promise.”