Promise Cove (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 1) (195 page)

U
nt
i
l
no
w
.

T
he n
e
xt mo
r
ni
n
g
,
J
or
d
an had
t
ea
r
s in her e
y
e
s as she
w
at
ched
T
o
m
’
s
t
r
uck
head
do
w
n
the
lo
n
g
d
r
ive
as
they headed
back
t
o
S
an
F
ran
cis
c
o
.
S
he
and
E
l
len
w
a
ved
t
o each
o
ther
unt
i
l
the
t
r
uck
made
the
r
ight
t
u
r
n
at
the
road
and d
i
sappeared
out
of
s
igh
t
.
A
s
J
or
d
an
slowly
made
her
w
a
y
up the
s
t
e
p
s,
e
y
e
s
f
u
l
l
of
t
ea
r
s,
she
bumped
s
oli
d
ly
in
t
o
N
ic
k
’
s ch
e
st
as
he
s
t
epped
out
on
t
o
the
porch
ca
r
r
y
i
n
g
h
i
s
m
o
t
or
c
y
cle
helme
t
.
A
shaft
of
panic
hit
he
r
,
a
l
a
r
m
lodged
in
her throat
as
she
realized
N
ick
t
o
o
,
w
as
le
a
v
i
n
g
.

N
ick s
a
w
the
unea
s
e
in
her
e
y
e
s
and
pulled
up
sho
r
t
.
H
e
t
ook
her
by
the
shoulde
r
s.
“
I
need
t
o
p
ick
up
the
g
l
a
s
s
for
the bathroom
w
indow
before
F
er
g
u
s
o
n
’
s
cl
o
s
e
s
.
”

J
or
d
a
n
’
s
face
lit
u
p
.
“
Y
ou
’
re
comi
n
g
bac
k
.
”

“
O
f
cou
r
s
e
,
I
’
l
l
b
e
bac
k
.
”
H
e
sh
o
t
he
r
a
g
r
i
n
.
“
In
fa
ct
,
w
h
y
do
n
’
t
I
t
a
k
e
th
e
t
w
o
pret
ti
e
s
t
g
ir
l
s
i
n
th
e
coun
t
y
out
t
o
dinne
r
whe
n
I
com
e
back
?
Y
o
u
ca
n
f
i
x
th
o
s
e
C
o
r
n
i
s
h
g
am
e
hen
s
s
om
e
o
the
r
tim
e
.
T
onigh
t
,
le
t
s
omeon
e
e
l
s
e
coo
k
fo
r
y
ou
.
”

“T
he
H
il
l
t
op
i
s open unt
i
l eigh
t
.
”

“
I
had
s
omep
l
ace
e
ls
e
in
mind,
l
i
ke
S
an
t
a
C
r
uz.
W
e
can be
there
in
thi
r
t
y
minu
t
e
s,
h
a
ve
s
ome
dinne
r
,
w
a
l
k
the
p
ie
r
,
sho
w
H
u
t
t
o
n
th
e
board
wa
l
k
li
t
u
p
a
t
nigh
t
.
”

J
oy
f
l
ashed
a
c
r
os
s
her
fac
e
.
“
W
e
’
l
l
be
ready
when
y
ou get
bac
k
.
”

As Nick flew
along the Coast Highway on his bike his mind whirled in a hundred different directions. He didn’t really want to be going into town right now and certainly not making a trip back to Ferguson’s. What he really wanted was to get his hands on Jordan, feel her body draped around his, her legs wrapped around him.

Deep
in
l
u
s
t
y
thoughts
he
w
as
alm
o
st
t
o
P
elican
P
o
in
t
e when
a
s
et
of
iron
g
a
t
e
s
off
t
o
the
left
caught
h
i
s
e
y
e
.
H
i
s hea
r
t
dropped
out
of
h
i
s
ch
e
s
t
.
H
e
hit
the
brak
e
s,
cau
s
i
n
g the
bi
ke
t
o
s
k
id
d
a
n
gerously
t
o
a
s
t
op
in
the
middle
of
the road.
J
e
s
u
s.
God.
S
ha
k
i
n
g
,
he
sh
o
t
a
U
,
headi
n
g
back
the
w
a
y
h
e
’
d
com
e
.
H
e
pulled
up
in
f
ront
of
the
g
a
t
e
s
that
led
t
o
Et
e
r
nal
G
ardens,
ob
v
iously
the
t
o
w
n
ceme
t
e
r
y
,
k
no
w
i
n
g instin
c
tively
th
i
s
i
s
where
Sc
o
t
t
had
been
l
aid
t
o
r
e
s
t
.
H
ow had
he
m
i
ss
ed
th
i
s
p
l
ace
in
the
time
he
had
spent
here?
H
e
’
d tr
a
veled
th
i
s
road
dozens
of
tim
e
s.
W
h
y
had
he
not
thought
t
o
find
S
c
o
t
t
’
s
final
r
e
sti
n
g
p
l
ace before
now?
W
h
y
had
n
’t
he asked
M
u
r
p
h
y
where
Sc
o
t
t
w
as
bu
r
ied,
the
one
man
in
t
o
w
n who
k
new
h
i
s
s
e
c
ret?