Free Confessions of a Girl-Next-Door by Jackie Braun

The television was on but the living room was empty.
    “She’s not up yet,” Hank said, doing a lousy job of hiding his amusement.
    Nate ignored him. “I checked on your plane.”
    That got his attention. “How’d she fare?”
    “No worse for the wear. Good thing we beached and tethered her, though. A couple of the boats that were moored in the shallows got tossed about quite a bit. One is going to need a new prop.”
    “Good thing,” Hank repeated, his complexion a little pale. He set the now-empty bowl in the sink. “And thanks for the place to stay last night. You’re not a bad host, Matthews, even if we never did get around to that poker game.”
    Nate laughed. “No problem.”
    Hank hitched a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the stairs. “So, what are you going to do about your other guest?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The lady needs a place to stay,” Hank reminded him. As if Nate needed reminding on that score.
    “I’ll find her something on the island.”
    “Sure about that?” Hank scratched his scruffy chin. He had a good decade on Nate. Right now, he was acting as if he were hisfather. “You said last night most places were full up. Kind of scolded the girl, as I recall, for coming without advance notice.”
    “I’m sure there’s something she can rent.” Especially given Holly’s unlimited budget. With that kind of cash to flash around, even the exclusive private summer residences that dotted the bay’s eastern shore would likely be open to renters. Since Hank seemed to be waiting for greater reassurance, Nate added, “I’ll drive her around later, see what’s available.”
    “As long as you’re sure she won’t wind up down at the campground.”
    “The campground.” Nate snorted out a laugh. The Holly he’d known as a child would have been fine in a pup tent, roasting marshmallows over an open fire and swapping ghost stories. They’d done just that her second summer on the island. In separate tents pitched outside the cottage her grandmother rented. This Holly? She would be carried off by the mosquitoes that sometimes were mistaken for Michigan’s state bird.
    He laid a hand over his heart. “I promise, I won’t allow her to wind up at the campground.”
    “Okay.” Hank nodded. “I’ll be heading outin a bit. I’ve got a couple fares scheduled for later this morning. You tell her she can call me if need be. I’ll come back for her in a flash.”
    “I’m sure she won’t be needing your services.”
    “Just see that you tell her.” The other man was all business now. Nate would have found Hank’s edict annoying if he didn’t also appreciate that he was looking out for Holly.
    That made two of them.
    “I will.”
    Holly woke to the far-off squawk of seagulls, the sound of gently lapping waves and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The storm was long gone, and from the sunshine peeking through the curtains, it was but a distant memory at this point.
    She stretched on the mattress and smiled sleepily as she regarded the outdated, overhead light fixture. Overall, she’d slept well, deep and dreamless. It was peaceful here, and so quiet.
    She amended her opinion a moment later when the jarring roar of a chainsaw had her lurching out of bed. A peek out one of the windows and she found its source. Nate wasjust down the beach from the cottage, holding the offending power tool in his hands and using it to slice through the thick trunk of a fallen cedar tree.
    She noted other trees and branches strewn about the beach and wondered what the full impact of the storm had been on the resort. She glanced around. Hank wasn’t with him. Nor was the pilot’s seaplane visible on the beach. But Nate did have a couple of helpers, teenage boys unless Holly missed her guess. And from the looks of it, they were as impressed with his skill with the chainsaw as she was.
    She decided to get dressed after a glance at the clock on the nightstand revealed it was closing in on