The Griffin's Mate (Hideaway Cove 1) - Page 22

“They want to talk about the old Eaves place,” Guts interjected helpfully.

“Thanks, Guts,” said Harrison, not looking away from Lainie. He cursed silently. Of course they do. Just what she needs.

He glanced up the road. Caro’s was only ten or twenty feet away. Guts had left his warning a bit late—if he meant it as a warning.

“You don’t have to see them if you don’t want to, Lainie.”

Lainie’s face went tense. She kept her eyes on the dashboard, but Harrison still saw how the corner of her mouth folded under. She took a deep breath.

“Fine. I’ll talk to them.” She rubbed her face, then hesitated. “Just give me a few minutes to do my face before we go in?”

Harrison waited outside the truck as Lainie tidied herself up. When she was ready, he opened the door for her. Her mouth was still stuck in that unhappy line.

He offered her his arm, and she stared at him. “You don’t have to—look, I know you’re not happy about the property being sold. You don’t have to look after me.”

Her voice was firm, but her eyes begged him to stay. Harrison squeezed her arm.

“I want to,” he said simply. “You’re one mysterious lady, Lainie Eaves. I might not know what’s going on with you, but I know I’m not going to let you go in there and get the Sweets once-over without backup.”

“Thanks, Harrison. That—that means a lot to me,” she muttered. She took a deep breath and blew her cheeks out. “Okay. Let’s do this. And afterwards, do you want to come back to the B&B and finish what you were saying before your friend stopped us?”

She said that last bit all in a rush, her eyes darting nervously up to meet Harrison’s. He smiled and touched her hand.

“Of course. I’d love that,” Harrison reassured her. And I’m sure you’ll have a hell of a lot of questions, after even a quick conversation with Mrs. Sweets.

***

Caro’s was strangely empty. Normally at this time of day it would be packed, as the fishing boats all came back in and spilled their crews onto the marina in search of a hot lunch. But today, only one table had people sitting at it.

Mr. and Mrs. Sweets and their cronies looked out of place in the homey pub, though Harrison had seen them all here before. Maybe it was the way they were holding themselves: on edge, like they were all waiting for something to happen. Mrs. Sweets’ eyes widened with genteel excitement as Harrison and Lainie walked in.

To Harrison’s surprise, Arlo was there, too. Among the clean-cut councilors and business-owners he stuck out like a sore thumb, with his unruly black hair and thick dark stubble. His piercing blue eyes met Harrison’s.

*Watch out. I don’t know what they’re planning, but Mrs. Sweets has that look in her eye.*

*Like she’s just seen a canoe of tasty tourists floating down the river?*

*That’s the one.*

Harrison drew Lainie closer to his side. She glanced up at him, questioning, but he didn’t have time to say anything.

“You must be Lainie Eaves.” Mrs. Sweets rose from her chair like a leviathan from the depths. “My, you’ve grown! I can’t tell you how happy we all are to see you again.”

Mrs. Sweets was five-foot-nothing, on the far side of sixty, and no one ever saw her human form in anything but a twinset and pearls. She bared her set of even, pearly white teeth in a welcoming smile as she approached Lainie and Harrison.

Harrison wondered if Lainie would notice the one strange thing about the councilwoman’s expression: she was smiling, but her teeth didn’t quite meet.

Ready to bite, he thought uncharitably.

“Mrs. Sweets,” Lainie said steadily. “Yes. I think I remember you.” She leaned almost imperceptibly toward Harrison, and he put his arm around her waist.

“And young Harrison! Imagine seeing you here,” Mrs. Sweets said, her bright eyes wide and innocent. “Well, I’m sure Caro can find you a bite to eat, if you’ll just wait on the terrace for us to finish…”

“I’ll stay with Lainie, if it’s all the same,” Harrison replied flatly. There was only one spare seat, at the foot of the table. He ushered Lainie into it and stood behind her, one hand placed on her shoulder. On guard.

Mrs. Sweets tutted at him, but her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She sniffed and sat down at the head of the table, folding her hands in front of herself.

“Now, I’m sure you realize why we all wanted to talk to you, dear,” Mrs. Sweets began.

Tags: Zoe Chant Hideaway Cove Paranormal
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