Chapter 3

Jenna

I ENTERED MY NEW ABODE, remembering all the happy memories of my childhood this place held while trying to envision how it would look a few months from now. Hopefully business would be booming and prove everyone who doubted me wrong. I ran my hand across the dusty mantle, appreciating the detail that was put into the original woodworking. I couldn’t wait for the parlor to come alive once again at Christmastime with the fireplace roaring and a beautiful tree decorated in Victorian-era décor. The same way it had been when my aunt and uncle lived here. I knew it wouldn’t be possible for this Christmas since it was only a few months away, but next Christmas for sure. Maybe then Brad would come to appreciate my decision, and maybe even bratty Sophie would grow to love this place. Who wouldn’t want a place by the beach all summer long?

Judith had given me the name of a few local antique stores where I could find some reasonable period furnishings, and I was planning on checking them out in the next day or so. I couldn’t wait to get working on this place and was hoping to do a lot of the work myself. I was a sucker for those home and garden shows and wanted to take some of those ideas from my lazy days of marathon watching and put them to use.

“Hello there!”

I jumped, turning around to find a short, portly woman standing behind me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw the door open and thought I’d come in and introduce myself.” She’d obviously picked up on my unease.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m Diana Crower. My sister and I own the Sandpiper Inn next door.”

“Oh, hello. I’m Jenna Delaney.”

“Yes, Judith was telling me all about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I heard so many wonderful things about your aunt and uncle. Unfortunately, they were no longer living here when we took over the business, so I never got to meet them. It’s really a beautiful home. I’m sure you can do wonders with it.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” I smiled and looked around.

“Do you have a partner to help you run it?”

“Nope. Just me.”

She raised an eyebrow and let out a slight gasp. “It’s a lot to take on.”

And here we go! I had enough negativity from people I knew. I didn’t need it from a complete stranger too. “Yes, I’m sure it will be, but I’m up for the challenge.”

“That’s the spirit. I can’t wait to see the finished product.”

We walked out to the front porch and Diana yammered on about the local business owners’ meetings that were held once a month, pausing for a moment to stare at the Porsche parked on the street right in front of us. “Is that your car?”

I shook my head and laughed. “I wish.”

“Oh, dear. I hope whoever the owner is comes out soon. There’s no parking on this side of the road on Thursday afternoons so the street sweeper can get down. They took the signs down to replace them and never bothered putting up the new ones, yet they’re still ticketing people for parking there.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair. How are they supposed to know they can’t park there if there isn’t a sign?”

“My thoughts exactly. It’s bad enough that our guests don’t have adequate parking, then they’re going to ticket them without warning. No wonder tourism has been down lately. Well, I know it’s no one staying at our place. Maybe it’s someone at Judith’s.”

“I can ask her. I’m actually staying there for the next few weeks, so I can supervise the renovation going on here.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Well, welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks,” I replied as we both stepped down from the porch and went on our way.

Judith was deep in conversation with a much older couple who were checking in. Somehow, they didn’t seem like the type who’d be driving that sporty Porsche 911 that was parked outside. Not wanting to interrupt, I poked my head into the parlor and came up empty upon not seeing any guests. Something in the back of my mind told me it belonged to the guy Judith had checked in just a little while ago. The rugged, mysterious, and somewhat tortured-looking one. I was embarrassed for gawking at him the way I had, but there was something about him that made it impossible to look away. He had an intimidating presence that demanded attention. During my over-assessment of him, I couldn’t help but notice the high-end overnight Gucci bag he was carrying. It was similar to the one I’d wanted to get Brad for his birthday last year until I saw it had a price tag of well over two thousand dollars. There was no doubt in my mind that high-end vehicle definitely belonged to him.

Judith was still conversing with the couple when I walked back through the foyer. I remembered her telling the man he was in room eight, which happened to be right next to mine. Maybe on the way to my room, I’d give a knock on his door to save him a ticket. I made my way up the steps, stopping when I reached room eight. I knocked gently and stood there for a few moments in silence. He obviously must have gone out.

Oh well, I tried. Judging by the car he drove and the bag he was carrying, I’m sure he’ll be able to afford a simple parking ticket with no problem.

I was just about to disappear into my room when the creaking of the doorknob stopped me. He opened the door and rested his head on the frame, staring down at me with bloodshot eyes. My stomach fluttered, and words failed me. He wasn’t pretty-boy gorgeous, but he was gorgeous nonetheless. He was handsome in a very manly way. Just about six feet five inches, with a strong jaw line covered in scruff, steel-blue eyes, perfectly pitched lips, and arms the size of cannons. He didn’t appear to be the type who spent hours in the gym. Something told me that gorgeous body was achieved the old-fashioned way like chopping wood and doing manual labor. He seemed annoyed by my presence as he stood there silently.

“I-I just wanted to see...” I couldn’t get the words out. What was it about him that had me so flustered? “Does that Porsche out there belong to you?”

He was mute, and I instantly regretted my decision to knock on his door.

His deep gaze penetrated through me as he swayed back and forth. I wanted so badly to remove the strand of light-brown hair that was hanging over his left eye. Hardening his stance, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me into his room, slamming the door closed. The strong scent of alcohol permeated from him when he pulled me into him. “Why did you do it?” he demanded.

“What?” My stomach churned. I was in the clutches of a mad man and there was no one around to save me.

“Why did you do it?” he asked again, this time louder and fiercer, tightening the grip he had on my arm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let go of me! You’re hurting me!” I shouted as I struggled to break free.

“Why? Tell me why?” he pleaded, his strong demeanor cracking right before my eyes.

I stared up at him as tears rolled down his face. He may have been a psycho, but in that moment my heart went out to this man.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered calmly, my eyes diverting to the open pill bottle and Jack Daniel’s on the nightstand.

This guy was worse off than I thought. His guard was now down—the perfect opportunity to go on my way and forget about this little encounter, but I couldn’t. He was obviously upset over something and judging by what I’d just seen on his nightstand, he was distraught enough to not even care about his own well-being. How could I overlook that? If he succeeded what he was more than likely attempting to do, I’d never forgive myself for ignoring the situation. My head was telling me to run, but my heart was telling me to help.

“Look, mister, I think you need to lie down and sleep this off.” I cautiously reached for his hand.

He followed without hesitation as I guided him to have a seat on the bed. A vacant stare was cast upon his face, and he was shivering from head to toe. The palm of my hand skimmed his forehead, wondering if a fever was the cause of his confusion, but he was cool to the touch. It was as if he was in this room in body only, his mind someplace far away. I bent down to take off his shoes, questioning my own sanity. Here I was, playing Florence Nightingale to this delusional stranger, who thought I was someone else—someone he clearly had a beef with. That had always been my biggest downfall—I was too trusting and sometimes downright naïve. But at that moment, I was fairly certain this man who towered over me and clearly outweighed me couldn’t do me any harm even if he wanted to. The only harm he seemed to be interested in doing was to himself.

The cutest little teddy bear caught my eye as I pulled down the bedspread. This was getting more bizarre by the moment. Why would a man who looked well into his thirties be traveling with a teddy bear? As strange as it all seemed, it still didn’t stop me from carrying on with my goodwill mission.

“Lie down,” I requested, but he was too zoned out to even hear my words. “Please lie down. You’re freezing. You need to get under the covers and warm up.”

He turned his head in my direction and gazed at me as if he were seeing someone else in my eyes. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder and directed his body down on the bed, his eyes closing the moment his head hit the pillow. I covered him up, and it was only a matter of minutes until his shivering subsided. He looked so at peace as I hovered near him, watching his deep, slow breaths. So different from the man who’d answered the door just a short time ago. I’d done my good deed for the day, and maybe with any luck, this poor man was getting a temporary reprieve from the demons he surely seemed to be battling.