Page 4 of Betrayal In Calusa Cove
Fletcher covered his mouth. Laughing wasn’t an appropriate response, but he couldn’t help it.
She reached for a magazine on the small table next to her chair and tossed it at him. “I have no idea what on earth is so funny.”
He cleared his throat. “Have you ever been to a spa or a salon? I mean, doesn’t Silas’s wife cut your hair at her home?”
“And your point?” she asked softly.
“Dawson mentioned you didn’t go with the girls to get your nails done before the wedding. Why not?”
Baily pointed out the door and toward the faint hum of the marina air conditioners. “I have a business to run, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“You could’ve called me to help out, so you could’ve gone with the girls.”
She lifted her right hand and stared at her nails. “I did a good enough job on my own.”
He knew money was tight, but getting her nails done for a special occasion shouldn’t have been something she’d skipped out on. He had no idea how much a mani-pedi cost, but it couldn’t have been a lot.
“Don’t look at me like that.” She lowered her chin and scowled. “It’s the same look I get from Silas when I won’t let him slip me a hundred after I help him with a line when he comes in. He waves his wild hand at me and tells me that’s what he tips the dockhands, but I know, besides Bingo, who’s saving for college, he does no such thing.”
“Maybe not, but you’re a stubborn woman, and while being proud is a virtue I can get behind, there’s no reason you can’t accept a little kindness from those who love you,” he said as the morning sun peeked out from the horizon. “Silas really does care about you and the success of this marina.”
“I’m not a charity case, and Silas finds ways to slip that money right under my door.” She shook her head and laughed. “I don’t insult him. I keep it. I’ve started a little fund in case whoever owns that loan decides to force my hand.”
Fletcher had people working on figuring out who actually owned that loan, but the names were buried under a labyrinth of corporations and LLCs. Not to mention, she’d have to come up with close to a million dollars. What had her dad been thinking by borrowing that kind of money from strangers?
Part of him still believed that Decker Brown had had something to do with it. That he was still watching and waiting for the right time to make his move. He’d approached Keaton twice and Hayes once, regarding the property on the canal, but he hadn’t made an offer. Decker had only asked questions. They had been questions that made everyone wonder if he was interested, but he’d never made an offer, and when confronted, Decker had shrugged and said he was only trying to make friends.
No one believed that.
However, Decker had been coming around for the last four months, and he had shown great interest in Baily. He had occasionally mentioned the marina and sometimes pressed her about whether things were that hard, why hadn’t she packed it up and done something else. He’d always raised his hands and told her that he was simply trying to be a good friend and that he had ideas if she ever wanted to hear them.
Fletcher and the team had thought long and hard about letting Baily entertain the conversation, but they didn’t want to put her in that position. She’d been bullied before about selling the marina, and she had no desire to do it, no matter how tough things got. Fletcher stood by her decision. He understood the importance of holding onto family legacies. All he wanted was for Baily to climb out from under the mountain of debt her old man had left her, but that was a tall order.
That brought his thoughts right back to Decker. If he wanted the property, what was he waiting for? The only thing he’d shown real interest in was the Crab Shack. It all seemed so strange. None of the pieces fit, nice and neat. They couldn’t connect anything—or anyone—to the loans.
Decker seemed benign, which pissed Fletcher off. He wanted to hate the man.
And then there was Ken and his secrets and lies, and Fletcher had no idea how deep they went. Or why Ken had kept them.
“You’re deep in thought,” Baily said as she moved to the edge of the ottoman. She lifted his feet and placed them on her lap. Her fingers curled around his ankles and rubbed gently. She’d always had magic hands. “What are you thinking about?”
“You.” He leaned forward, lifting her chin with his index finger. He stared into her warm gaze, watching her lashes flutter over her damn freaking beautiful blue eyes. He could get lost in those pools. He pressed his mouth to hers, and a faint moan escaped her throat. Wrapping his arms around her body, he deepened the kiss. It felt so good to…
Knock. Knock.
He jerked his head back, breathless.
Baily stared at him with wide eyes, as if she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
Dawson stood at the door, his fingers looped into his weapon belt, his stance wide, and a smile the size of Texas. “Real sorry to interrupt that. But I was driving by when Bingo waved me down because he couldn’t find Baily.” Dawson pointed his finger. “Did you spend the night here?”
“I did not.” She folded her arms. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Dawson chuckled. “Maybe not, but based on the way you’re both dressed and that lip lock, it was a safe guess.”
“Cut the crap.” Fletcher stood, scratching the center of his bare chest. “Is there a problem?”
“Yeah.” Dawson nodded, and his face quickly sobered. “Though, I’m not sure how big.”
