Chapter Five

Emmie poured herself a cup of coffee, grabbed Jacoby’s notebook from the kitchen island, and headed outside to the deck. The early morning chill had her wrapping a blanket over her legs. She took a sip of her morning brew and opened the journal.

Her brother’s penmanship was neat and precise. Bold with masculine lines. She had discovered the book while she had been packing up Jacoby’s condo. All the stuff she had wanted to keep, she placed in storage, to examine them at some later date. When she could breathe normally once more.

The notebook, however, was the last bit of her brother that she had. His words were a balm to her soul. So even if he’d hoped his journal would stay forever unread, there was no way she couldn’t read it. Over and over, she studied what he had written. It had been the first time she’d ever heard of Anchorridge Cove, and the small coastal town had beckoned her with the promise of divulging some of Jacoby’s secrets. She hadn’t even known he’d left the State of New York, let alone spent time in Maine.

Why this place? Why not someplace glamourous, like Los Angeles? Or Vegas? Hell, even Disney World would’ve held more interest than this sleepy little community. Not that she was complaining. She thought the town charming. It was simply the fact that none of this reminded her of Jacoby. He hadn’t been the type to stare at the ocean or rusticate in a beach house. She wanted—no, needed —to figure this out.

She took a sip of coffee and spotted a jogger running across the damp part of sand near the receded tide. Despite the cool breeze, he didn’t wear a shirt. The sweat on his muscles gleamed in the morning light. She didn’t know what he looked like, but from the neck down she could certainly enjoy the eye- candy. Then, as if he knew she was watching, he turned to look at her and gave a little wave. With a grin, she waved back, suspecting this was the person she’d seen last night. Once he passed, she returned to sipping her coffee and reading the notebook.

Jacoby had written a lot about an ice cream shop in town located on Main Street, so that’s where Emmie figured she’d start. If she walked in her brother’s footsteps, perhaps she’d get the answers she sought. Or if not that, at least clarity.

For the rest of the morning, she read. Even saw the same man jog back. He occupied her attention until he passed, giving her another wave. She noticed he ran up to the cottage next to hers, which really wasn’t that close. He was, however, her nearest neighbor. His muscles were a sight she wouldn’t mind seeing every day.

After she finished her coffee, she rose and headed back inside to get dressed. She had an ice cream parlor to find.

****

Crew loved the early morning chill as he ran. It felt good against his heated skin. When he went past the house where the woman from last came from, he waved at her. He saw long, chestnut-colored hair, but couldn’t focus on any facial feature. She waved back, and that brought a small smile to his face.

Once he was done with his early morning run, he went inside and took a nice hot shower. After, he walked into the living room and spotted the envelope with his name on it. He still didn’t know if he was ready, but he had to read the damn thing. If nothing else, maybe it provided guidance about Thomas’s last wishes.

Sitting down, he took a deep breath and opened the letter. Thomas wrote about how proud he was of him, how he always knew Crew had that special spark that only true greats possessed. How he believed in him, and to never take his ability for granted. The words were bittersweet, and he was secure enough in his masculinity to cry. He was going to miss Thomas.

Once he dried his tears and blew his nose, he looked in the fridge and realized he needed food. He slipped on his sneakers and a t-shirt, grabbed his wallet and keys, and crammed a baseball hat on his head. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but it’d have to do. If he had been smart, he would’ve gone the whole undercover look with a mustache or beard.

As he drove down Main Street, heading to the only grocery store in town, he happened to see long, chestnut-colored hair swinging and realized it was his neighbor. She entered an ice cream shop and he didn’t know what possessed him to pull over and park, but he had this urge to see her closer. Without questioning it, he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and headed inside the little ice cream parlor.

“I’ll have a scoop of the salted caramel ribbon swirl,” his neighbor said.

He was able to observe her for a moment. She was tall for a woman. Only five or six inches shorter than him. The thought he wouldn’t have to bend down all that much to kiss her flittered through his head. Then he wondered why he was thinking about kissing her when they’d never met. Once she paid for the cold treat, she turned to leave and came to a stop as their gazes met.

Beautiful didn’t do justice to describe her. He had a sense of free-falling into the bottomless pool of her big brown eyes. A cute little smattering of freckles dotted her perfect button nose. Cupid’s bow lips were a natural shade of pink. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Hi,” she said, beating him to speak.

Crew cleared his throat. “Hi. I think I’m your neighbor.”

“I think so, too.”

Another few seconds passed as they stared at one another. The bell over the door chimed, dragging him from whatever spell she’d placed on him.

“I’m, uh, Coleson,” he said, remembering at the last moment to use his middle name.

“Emmie.” She held out her hand and he shook it.

Electric shocks tingled where their skin touched. By the widening of her eyes and the flare of her nostrils, he bet she felt the same stimulation. His thumb rubbed her soft skin, wondering what the hell was going on. Being a famous quarterback on the NFL team that just won the Super Bowl provided his share of beautiful pussy to choose from, but this was something different. Something … he had no idea what to even compare it to.

“Excuse me,” came an annoyed voice. “Are you in line?”

“Oh,” he said moving out of the way. Emmie’s hand slipped from his. “Sorry.”

The woman frowned at him and stepped up to the counter.

“Aren’t you going to order?” Emmie asked.

He shook his head. “Would it sound creepy if I said I only came in here because I saw you enter?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Utterly creepy.”

He grimaced. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t say creepy couldn’t be charming.” She tilted her head. “Unless you turn into a serial killer. Or a serial rapist. Or anything having to do with serial in general.”

“Scouts honor,” he said, raising his hand. “No serials.”

She grinned. “Why do I feel like you weren’t a Scout?”

“Is it my rakish allure?”

“Oh, definitely,” she murmured. “I thought to myself, self, that man can’t possibly be the next Ted Bundy because he’s got a rakish allure.”

He chuckled.

The salted caramel ribbon swirl dripped onto her fingers so she had to hurry and lick the melting sides. Crew had never wanted to be an ice cream cone more. His body reacted very inappropriately for being in a public place.

“I, um, have to go,” she said.

“Yeah, right. Me too. I’m heading to do some grocery shopping.”

“I did that yesterday.” She glanced down, and a look of uncertainty crossed her face. “I know we don’t know each other, but would you like to come over for dinner?”

“Yes,” he replied softly. “I would love that.”

“Great. So, is six tonight okay?”

“Well, let me check my calendar, oh, wait, I’m on vacation. Six would be great.”

“Great,” she answered.

“We’re saying the word ‘great’ a lot, did you notice?”

“Yeah, isn’t that great?”

He laughed.

“Do you think you might need directions to my place?”

“I’m pretty sure I can Google map it.” He winked. “Bye for now, Emmie.”

With one last lingering look, she left the ice cream parlor. Crew watched her get into a very nice car and drive off.

What the hell just happened?

He had this weird feeling he’d just met his future.