Meant to Be (9 page)

“My name is Cassandra Wheeler, and what I need is to talk to Ms. LeBlanc.”

Wheeler. Wheeler Development. In an instant Beth remembered where she’d seen this woman before. At the firm.

Coming out of Lucas’s office.

“I—”

“Here’s my card. Tell Ms. LeBlanc to call me at the hotel number written on the back. Assure her it will be worth her time to make the call.”

Before Beth could say another word, Cruella left the store, subtle chimes and a touch of Chanel lingering in her wake.

Beth pursed her lips. What business could Lucas have with Cassandra Wheeler? She’d assumed the woman to be just another client on the two occasions she could remember seeing her exit his office. But Lucas didn’t work on the Wheeler account.

The only connection between the two was Anchor, but Lucas would never help Wheeler buy out the island. Or would he?

Beth didn’t like the disloyal thoughts running through her mind. She would ask Lucas about his meetings with Ms. Wheeler the next time they talked. There was sure to be a simple explanation. Or so she hoped.

A morning on the water would normally put Joe in a good mood. Perfect weather, plenty of fish, and satisfied tourists all before noon. This morning’s group was so satisfied, they booked another trip out for Tuesday. But instead of riding the wave of a job well done and more business ahead, Joe couldn’t stop thinking about Beth and the damn spark she’d shot through his system the night before.

Future family gatherings were going to be damned uncomfortable if he couldn’t stop lusting after his little brother’s wife. But then last night had been about more than lust. God help him but Joe was starting to like her. Her spunk, her laugh, her quiet strength. Even her determination to win over his family, though he didn’t understand why their approval meant so much to her.

Sailing through the door of Dempsey’s, Joe stumbled into a scene that pulled his focus away from his future sister-in-law.

“I’ve ignored Mr. Wheeler’s attempts to contact me because I’m not interested in what Mr. Wheeler has to say.” Joe’s dad stared at a pretty boy in a suit standing across the bar. “If saying it in person is necessary, Mr. Paige, then consider this my official answer. I am not interested.”

Joe grabbed a glass and poured himself a soda then leaned back on the cooler. His dad looked mad enough to turn his verbal answer into a physical one, and that would be a show worth watching.

“You’re not looking at the big picture here, Mr. Dempsey. Working with Wheeler Development would be significantly more profitable than the situation you have now. Mr. Wheeler is prepared to—”

“Do you have a hearing problem, Mr. Paige?” Joe recognized imminent danger when his dad crossed his arms and started shifting from foot to foot. The suit clearly did not.

“If you’ll look at the plans we’ve designed for the project, you’ll understand the scope as well as the potential the island has to gain in this endeavor.”

So Cassandra wasn’t the only Wheeler representative on the island.

Tom slammed his fist on the bar before Wheeler’s minion could spread out the papers he’d pulled from inside his jacket. In a low voice he snarled, “Take your plans and your potential profits and get the fuck out of my restaurant.”

Joe smiled. Tom Dempsey didn’t show temper often, but when he did, the results were legendary. Maybe Pretty
Boy would push a few more buttons. His dad flinging the asshole out the door would definitely send a message to Wheeler Development.

The papers disappeared back inside the suit’s fancy coat as he took a step back. Pretty Boy was catching on. “You should think about this, Mr. Dempsey. Once your neighbors join in the project, Mr. Wheeler will no longer be so generous to those who make this difficult.”

A direct threat.
Stick it up your ass, Pretty Boy.
Joe moved down the bar as the suit made his exit. “Guess I don’t have to ask what that was about.”

“Son of a bitch won’t give up,” Tom said, keeping his voice down. “A million other islands that bastard could go after and he picks ours.”

Joe suspected Wheeler’s sudden interest in Anchor had more to do with revenge than business development. Revenge on Joe. He’d put a ring on Cassandra Wheeler’s finger, then backed out when she forced him to choose between her and the island.

The choice had been easy, but that didn’t make him feel like less of a fool.

Cassie had a knack for manipulating her father, who would do anything to make his little girl happy. Though he couldn’t prove it, Joe long suspected Cassie was behind the job offer her daddy had sent his way after they’d first broken up. Money, power, a corner office. He’d tried to buy Joe the same way he’d buy a car or a new boat. So what was buying an island to Tad “Big Money” Wheeler? Especially when that island could eventually make him a killing.

“You don’t think anyone is really giving in on this, do you?” Joe said.

“The asshole is bluffing, or else the price would have dropped by now.” Tom wiped down the bar. “But we have to be pissing him off if he’s sending a lackey all the way down here.”

Before Joe could respond, Tom dropped the rag and headed for the door.

“There’s my girl,” he said, throwing an arm around Beth’s shoulders. “Have a seat at the bar. You’re here to eat this time, not work.” He glanced at Joe. “Don’t just stand there, get the girl a menu.”

What the hell?
“I’m not here to work either.”

“Then grab two menus and get your ass out from behind my bar.”

Joe snagged the menus and joined Beth, leaving an empty stool between them. Without a word he slid a menu her way, then buried his face in his own as if unfamiliar with the options.

“Gee, thanks,” she said, setting a cell phone on the bar between them.

“You’re welcome.”

The strip of denim he supposed counted as a skirt showed off more than enough leg when Beth was standing. When she perched on the bar stool the thing revealed enough thigh to threaten his physical well-being.

Shifting his weight, Joe kept his eyes above bar level.

“Is there really no place on this island I can get a cell signal?”

Joe looked up as Tom answered, “Afraid not.”

“I wanted to call Lucas about something, but I guess it’ll have to wait.”

“You can use the phone in the kitchen.”

Beth pursed her lips. Maybe she’d changed her mind about staying on Anchor without Lucas. “No, that’s all right. He’s probably busy anyway. I’ll talk to him tonight.”

“Order up!” came a voice from the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back,” Tom said, sliding the hot plates off the stainless-steel shelf. “The phone is always there if you want to use it.”

“Thanks,” she said, then turned to Joe. “What do you recommend?”

“Excuse me?” Joe asked. Did she really want his opinion on whether to use the phone? Or worse, if she should stay on the island?

“From the menu. What do you recommend?” She flashed him those big green eyes and his mind went blank.

“I don’t know. Order whatever you want.” He hid behind his menu again, considering putting his order in to go.

“Is it so horrible to have to talk to me?” The hurt in her voice made him feel like more of an ass. Why couldn’t she be mad? He could handle mad.

Joe kept his eyes on the menu and considered his answer. “I told you once, I’m not much of a talker. You want to know something just ask me.”

“I did.”

“You did what?”

“Just ask you.”

“Well, I don’t know what you like.” The more he defended himself the more he felt like he was losing an argument he hadn’t seen coming. “How am I supposed to tell you what to eat when I don’t know anything about you?”

“You’d know something about me if you stopped walking away.”

Such a woman thing to say. “What are you all wound up about? And don’t tell me it’s because I didn’t recommend you order the hamburger.”

“You’re right, it’s not. We were almost cordial to each other last night, and today you go back to acting like I have some kind of…cooties.”

“Did you just say ‘cooties’?”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Oh my gosh, you know what I mean. Why don’t you like me?”

“I never said I don’t like you.” Life would sure as hell be easier if he didn’t. “And why is it so damn important that people like you?”

She looked as if he’d asked her how to get from Anchor to Mars in a rowboat. “Because…it just is. Don’t you want people to like you?”

As long as he was left alone, Joe didn’t give two shits who liked him. “No.”

“You’re lying,” Beth said, turning to face him.

“I am not. If I was going to lie, I’d tell you what you want to hear so you’d like me.” He wasn’t sure where that defense came from, but felt impressed he’d thought of it.

The green eyes narrowed as she tapped one finger on the menu sitting in front of her. “You’re totally serious.”

“Yep.”

“This explains a lot, actually.” She opened her menu as if trying to pretend she didn’t care whether he liked her or not, but he could tell from her voice she still did. “I was just
hoping that if I was going to be part of the family we might get along. Never mind.”

Now she really thought he didn’t like her. Part of his brain told him to let her believe it. But the other half, the one that was clearly insane, made him feel as if he’d just kicked a puppy. Twice.

“Fine.”

“Fine what?” Beth asked.

“I like you just fine.” Admitting it wasn’t nearly as difficult as it should have been, and “fine” was an understatement, but she didn’t need to know that. “I have another charter to run this afternoon, but I’m off tomorrow. You want to see more of the island?”

He’d officially lost his mind.

She blinked as if he’d thrown sand in her eyes. Then she glanced behind him, leaning out far enough to teeter on her stool.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Looking for the gun being held to your back.”

“Nobody likes a smart-ass. If you don’t want to go, say so.” It wasn’t as if playing tour guide would be a treat for him. “But don’t say I didn’t offer.”

“No, no. You’re right. You’re being nice and I shouldn’t give you a hard time.” Beth shot him a genuine smile that lit up her face and did unwelcome things to his solar plexus. “But you can’t blame me for being unfamiliar with the kinder, gentler Joe. I’ve seen so little of him.”

That had to be the nicest way anyone had ever called him an asshole. “I did save you from Sid last night. And bandaged your blisters when you were less than cooperative.”
She opened her mouth, presumably to argue, but he didn’t give her the chance. “That’s probably the nicest thing I’ve done in at least six months.”

Beth laughed and Joe couldn’t help but chuckle with her. The feeling was unfamiliar but not unpleasant.

“I bought a sketch of the lighthouse at Lola’s shop today. I’d love to see the real thing. Could you drive me over there tomorrow? I promise to be on my best behavior.” She scooted onto the bar stool between them, brushing her thigh against his then jerking away. The smile left her face.

Damn sparks.

“I’ll take you. You interested in seeing the wild horses, too? They’re too far up the island to walk so we might as well go while we’re driving around.” He needed his head examined. Or his other head put to sleep. Before tomorrow.

“I’d like that.” Her smile returned, more tentative than before. “Thanks, Joe. I was hoping we could be friends.”

“Right. Friends. We can do that.” Provided she didn’t touch him. Or until he gave up and threw himself off the pier.

B
etween the zing every time they touched and that lethal dimple, winning over her future brother-in-law was starting to feel like working on a mob case. Dangerous to her well-being. So there was a physical attraction. Not the end of the world. It wasn’t as if she liked anything about him. The man was opinionated, cranky, and obtuse.

But when his face softened, and he let his guard down, she seemed to forget his faults. Spending time with Joe was like walking too close to the edge of a cliff. One wrong step and she could fall. No. She couldn’t think like that. There was nothing wrong with liking her brother-in-law. In a friendly sort of way. They were going to be family when she married Lucas. They should be friends.

After an amicable if mostly silent lunch, Beth had watched Joe drive off for an afternoon on the water, the thought of which made her queasy, then rode home with Patty, who’d returned from her grocery shopping.

“The last of the meat is wrapped and in the freezer,” Patty said, joining Beth on the porch.

“I wish you’d have let me help.”

“You’ve done enough work already. This is supposed to be your vacation, not a summer internship.” Patty set a tall glass of iced tea on the table next to Beth then dropped into an empty Adirondack chair. “How was your morning?”

“Good. I went to see Lola again, and I made this bracelet.” Beth held up her right wrist.

“That’s beautiful,” Patty said, spinning the piece. “That blue one there looks just like Joe’s eyes.”

Beth dropped her arm. “You think? I hadn’t noticed.” Picking up her iced tea, she breached the subject of Cruella. “A woman came into the store today while Lola was out running an errand.”