Free Promise Cove (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 1) by Vickie McKeehan Page B

back in here and ream y our m is er a ble ass. A re we clear?” W hile the man s t ood there w ith h i s mouth open, N ick leaned over the coun t er and made an o ther point. “ A nd I w ant help loadi n g the d amn floo r i n g . ”
    L a t e r N ic k s t oo d o n th e loadi n g doc k an d w a t c he d a s t w o F e r gus o n emplo y e es ca r r ie d he a vy s quar e bo x es o f ti l e f l oori n g an d p u she d the m in t o th e bac k o f th e S U V . W it h a sa ti s f i e d s mir k o n h is face , N ic k did n ’ t s e e M u r p h y ambl e ove r .
    N oti n g the men were loadi n g J or d a n ’ s F ord Explore r , M u r p h y asked, “ H o w ’ s it goi n g? I s ee y ou found J or d a n ’ s p l ac e . ”
    “Seems like I ’ m wor k i n g for he r . ”
    M u r p h y s ent him a dubious loo k . “ N ow how did that happen?” B ut suddenly M u r p h y unde r s t ood. “ Y ou did n ’t t e ll her who y ou were, did y ou? Somethi n g t e l l s me Sco t t ’ s name did n ’t e ven come u p . A m I r ight?”
    N ick let out an audible s igh, ran h i s han d s ne r vously throug h h i s hai r . “ W he n I g o t there , sh e w as h a v i n g a c r i s i s of s o r ts, a mel t down. I t w as n ’t a good time t o s t a r t thro w i n g Sco t t ’ s name around in the m i x . ”
    “ Y o u h a v e t o t ell he r . J or d a n ’ s ha d a roug h ti m e . ”
    “ I k now that. S h e ’ s under the impr e ssion y ou s ent me out there t o find wor k . ” H e let that re gi s t er for a couple of minu t e s before addi n g , “ Loo k , I k now y ou do n ’t k now me, but when I t old her m y name, it did n ’t re gi s t e r , did n ’t mean a thi n g t o he r . S he w as u ps e t , the b a by s t a r t ed c r y i n g , and I did n ’ t w an t t o ad d t o tha t. I h a ve n ’ t foun d th e r i gh t ti m e t o t ell her y et . ”
    “ T r ust m e . There i s no r ight tim e . Y ou w ait and it’ll get t o ug her t o find the r ight wor d s, not ea s ie r . I do n ’t w ant t o s ee J or d an hu r t . ”
    “ Y ou think I do? T h at ’ s the l ast thi n g I w ant. S o , could we r ide w ith this for a while, M u r p h y , just until I find the r ight ti me? ” K n o w i n g s ma ll t ow ns , a though t oc cur re d t o N ic k . “ A nd just s o y ou k no w , she f i x e d u p tha t s t udi o apa r tment over the g ar a g e . I ’ m slee p i n g ther e . ”
    M u r p h y sh r ugged . “ W ha t d o I care?”
    “ Y ea h. R i gh t . G o ss i p i s th e s ma ll t own w a y o f lif e . I do n ’t w ant people getti n g the wro n g idea a bout J or d an and g i v i n g her a hard tim e . ”
    M u r p h y shook his head. “ I ’ll make sure people k no w . B ut N ic k , t ell her a bout Sco t t s oon, o k a y? The lo n ger y ou w ai t , the t ougher it’ll b e . ”
    Once back at The C ove th os e wor d s came back t o N ick as he fin i shed unloadi n g the bo x e s of tile floo r i n g and s t ac k i n g them in t o the packed g ar a ge J or d an ob v iously u s ed for s t or a g e . There w as barely enough room for the floo r i n g . A s he t ook ad v an t a ge of the only a v ai la ble floor space, he s t opped lo n g enough t o look around at all the s t uff. There w as an as s o r tment of antique dres s e r s, ch e sts, and be d s. H e sp o tt ed bo x e s of new plum b i n g f i x t ures. There were t wo new ped e s ta l s in k s, an o ther new t o ilet still in the bo x , new faucets, and a che r r ywood v ani t y . Behind all the clut t e r , he sp o tt ed an old t ele v i sion s e t , and wondered b r iefly i f i t migh t pu ll in enough of a reception in the apa r tment t o get a L a ke r s g am e .
    Loo k i n g cl o s e r , behind the clut t e r , N ick sucked in a breat h. H i s g a z e fe ll o n hal f a doze n su r fboards leani n g up a g ainst the far w a ll. Sco t t ’ s su r fboards, he realized, as he wor k ed his w a y past the dus t y junk t o get a bet t er loo k . B ut Sco t t w