Free Worth the Trouble (St. James #2) by Jamie Beck

prefer to learn her secrets because she wanted to share them, not because he stole them. Too bad the likelihood of her opening up to him, or anyone, seemed about equal to the chances of him ever walking on the moon.
    He took another swig of coffee to wash down his last bite of bagel. Its bitter taste matched his altered mood. Waiters scurried about, clearing tables and waiting on vacationers. He noticed the other men his age—husbands and fathers who appeared relaxed and carefree.
    Hank tried to imagine himself with a kid on his knee, a smile from a wife, an abundance of cash, then snickered and washed away his envy with more coffee.
    His life had been derailed when his father died from a massive heart attack shortly before Hank’s high school graduation. With four younger sisters who needed his support, Hank had scrapped his college plans and taken a construction job to help his mother raise the girls and keep their home.
    He didn’t resent his situation, but sometimes he wished for the freedom to pursue his own dreams—personal and professional. To finally quit working construction and set up a custom furniture design shop, get married, have kids. Maybe one day he’d even return to this island to vacation with a family of his own.
    For now, he’d content himself with his sisters and his young nephew.
    Having finished his breakfast, Hank reluctantly stood to leave. On his way back to his room, he bumped into Jackson and Cat, who were waiting in the lobby for their taxi to the harbor.
    Cat appeared fully recovered from her momentary lapse of self-confidence. A pleasant buzz surged through Hank, irking him. How could he be hot for her even when she pissed him off?
    “Hey, buddy.” Jackson shoved his phone in his back pocket. “Meet me at the Caine’s house tomorrow at seven, okay?”
    Hank tore his eyes from Cat’s outrageously short skirt—as if anyone needed further inducement to appreciate her incredible legs. “Seven o’clock. Got it.” He noticed three designer suitcases at Cat’s feet. A lot of luggage for a two-night trip. He covered his mouth, stifling a smart-ass remark.
    She scowled.
    “You never know what mood you’ll be in, or if the weather will change.” Cat squared her shoulders while crossing her arms in front of her chest.
    Was she so defensive with all men, or did she reserve this behavior solely for him?
    “You don’t owe me any explanation,” he replied casually, taunting her with a lazy smile.
    “Come on, Cat. Cab’s here.” Jackson waved good-bye to Hank, pulling his luggage behind him on his way out the door. Cat hefted her small bag up over her shoulder, looking like she might topple over on those heels as she bent over to deal with the other bags.
    “Need a hand?” Hank watched Cat hesitate. He’d never met a woman so determined to refuse help.
    She looked surprised. “Sure, that would be nice.”
    Hank hoisted the largest piece of luggage up off the floor. “What’s in here? Anvils?”
    “There’s a reason for the wheels, Hank.” She lifted the retractable handle of her carry-on-size bag and headed toward the door, casting a seductive glance over her shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to ‘figure it out. ’ ” After hurling his earlier words back in his face, she then strutted outside.
    He followed her, trying but failing to keep from gawking at the hypnotic sway of her hips. She was a witch—a sexy, dangerous witch. And apparently some twisted part of him relished being the victim of her particular black magic.

    Four hours later, Hank pulled his beat-up Ford F-250 pickup into the driveway of the small Dutch colonial home he shared with his mother and youngest sister, Jenny, in Norwalk, Connecticut. He sat in the driver’s seat, stealing an extra minute of peace before going inside to deal with whatever the latest problems were. The car door squeaked open just as Jenny blew through the back door of their house and ran over to his pickup.
    “You’re finally