Page 1 of Best Laid Plans (Rock Harbor #1)

CHAPTER ONE

ELLE

E lle Pierce’s life had come full circle. In the worst possible way.

She was sitting in the apartment she’d grown up in, where her brother now lived, situated above her family’s restaurant in the quaint and beloved Rock Harbor, Massachusetts.

At least, beloved by other people. Elle had dreamt of moving away for as long as she could remember. And she’d done it. Had achieved everything that she’d set out to accomplish. Until a few short weeks ago, when it had all fallen down around her.

Which was probably why her current predicament stung so much.

Her life in Boston felt like a foggy dream, nothing except an exorbitant monthly student loan payment to show for her last twenty-seven years on this Earth.

So, she’d done what any down-on-her-luck person would do and had come home to lick her wounds. Right now, it felt like she needed a bigger tongue.

Her brother, Wyatt, emerged from his bedroom, shooting her a cautious glance.

“Have your legs atrophied yet?” he asked, pulling at the blanket she’d cocooned herself in on his sofa, annoying in a way that only a brother could be.

She pulled the blanket back toward her, shooting him a daggered look.

Her whimper at the sudden exposure to the air conditioning turned into a growl when he continued to pull.

He had strength, but she had sheer determination as she wrapped her fingers around the edges and held on.

“This is my convalescing blanket, Wyatt. I’m a woman with nothing to lose, so I wouldn’t test me right now. ”

Wyatt, broad-shouldered and towering over her, put his hands up in submission and took two steps back. She appreciated the small hint of fear in his dark eyes–a feature they both shared–and the way he sized her up like there was a world in which she could take him.

And given her current state of mind, it was possible that she could dig deep enough into a place where even at six-foot-three, he didn’t stand a chance.

She sighed and shot him another warning glare.

Because even if she wasn’t close to a foot shorter than him, she’d gone a little soft in the last two years.

Which was a pretty clear consequence of focusing on nothing but completing her MBA and climbing the next rung on the corporate ladder, which was a far less physically taxing endeavor than the phrase wanted you to believe.

Between sitting on the T to commute and then sitting at a desk to learn and then sitting at her desk at home to study and then sitting on the sofa to eat dinner, her mind had been running marathons while her body had…

not. She’d been a college athlete, and her muscles still twinged with disuse, like they wouldn’t let her forget that sedentary shouldn’t be her natural state.

She gave her brother a surmising glance, noticing then, now that he was no longer antagonizing her, the massive duffel bag taking up a laughable amount of the living room floor. Right, she noted dimly, because he was heading out to coach his high school team’s football camp for the next two weeks.

He looked down at the bag with the Rock Harbor Lobsters logo emblazoned on the side before hefting it up easily and throwing it over his shoulder. “I’m going to put this in my truck.” She didn’t miss the pitying glance he gave her. “I’ll be back.”

And she’d be right where he’d left her. On the sofa, where she’d spent so much time over the last few days that it felt like a second skin.

In a few more minutes, Wyatt would be gone, and Elle would have the much-needed space to wallow in privacy. She felt like that was the least the karmic gods could do for her.

Two weeks in blissful solitude to let herself fall apart and then focus on putting the pieces back together.

One of those prospects was far more appealing than the other right now.

She had to give her brother credit, though. The apartment where they’d grown up, directly on top of the seafood restaurant their parents had owned for the entirety of her life, was now almost unrecognizable as their childhood home.

It was a small three-bedroom, and though Wyatt kept a guest room, he’d turned what used to be Elle’s bedroom–the smallest one–into a home gym-slash-office.

He’d painted all the walls soothing tones, something her parents had never had the time to do, and he’d updated the furniture to something from at least this millenia.

When Wyatt had started his professional football career a decade ago, the first thing he’d done was buy their parents a charming rancher about fifteen minutes away from the restaurant.

Because of course he had. It was like he’d come out of the womb with the energy of a man born in a pre-feudal society whose singular goal was to provide for his family.

And since he didn’t have one of his own, it was their parents he’d nestled under his overprotective wings.

Elle had flown the coop, and she hadn’t looked back.

She came home for the holidays, and she had a weekly phone call to catch up with her parents.

But Wyatt was enmeshed , especially once his football career had unexpectedly–and brutally–ended and he’d dragged himself back to Rock Harbor to figure out what came next.

Now, along with mother henning like it was his job, he was the head coach for the Rock Harbor Lobsters High School football team, a vocation that he took as seriously as if he was still playing pro.

She was grateful for the help her brother gave to their parents, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it was just as much for himself as for them. Maybe she’d ask him about his love life one of these days–see if he’d heard from Hannah. That would really set them down a fun path.

She sighed, regretting being so bitchy, even internally. No one ever brought Hannah up, and she wasn’t going to start now.

The front door opening pulled her attention as Wyatt walked through the door.

He immediately lasered in on Elle, the last thing on his checklist, probably, before he left.

She avoided the concerned look her brother shot her way, even if deep down, she knew that a part of his hovering stemmed from not wanting to deal with his own shit.

But, no. She wouldn’t do that.

Wyatt was being good to her–a great big brother through and through–and she wasn’t going to be dumb enough to bite the hand that was feeding her. And sheltering her. And conveniently, though his trip had already been planned, leaving his home for weeks so that she could convalesce in private.

“Elle.” Wyatt’s eyes softened, though he didn’t move closer. Smart man. “You’ve been here for days now.”

She flicked her stare to a half-eaten bag of potato chips, suddenly starving. “Four business days, but okay,” she said, picking up the bag and shoving an indulgent handful into her mouth.

She wasn’t a bad person. She paid her taxes.

She volunteered. She’d very discreetly told that woman at the coffee shop when she’d had something stuck in her teeth.

There was no reason, as far as she could tell, that fate had organized a line of toppling dominoes that had left her in this…

place of despair that she’d found herself in.

Everything in her life was wrong. Jobless. Homeless. Rudderless. Boyfriendless. Well, that last one had been going on for a while now, but it was at least worth an add to the list, given how cataclysmically her most recent relationship had ended.

Wyatt cleared his throat and pulled her attention back from the potato chip bag that she’d been surveying like an artist studying a landscape.

“How long do you think you can hide from Mom and Dad? They’re downstairs in the restaurant every day.

I’m starting to feel like an asshole for lying to them.

” Wyatt ran his hands through his thick hair, fingers digging into his scalp.

Elle knew her decision to hide out upstairs was weighing on him, but after he left, he’d have plausible deniability. She’d tell her parents–eventually–that she’d shown up after he’d already headed to football camp.

There. Problem solved.

And really, she didn’t know how much longer she could put off seeing her parents, for so many reasons.

Since coming home to hide out, she’d been assaulted with the incredible smells wafting up from Pierce’s Lobster Co.

, and not even that could get her downstairs to explain to her parents just how far her life had fallen.

Elle leaned back against the sofa. “Wyatt, your Good Son award will never be tarnished, not even on my account. I’m just…”

What was she waiting for? A way to explain her failures? After her parents had given so much to help her succeed in this world.

“I don’t want to worry them,” she said honestly, sinking even deeper into the sofa’s surprising comfort. “I’m not in a great place.”

“Truce?” Wyatt asked with a teasing smile, hands still up as he walked closer.

Elle nodded and pulled the blanket up farther so that only her almond eyes and dark messy bun were poking out.

He sat down, keeping just enough space that, if tempted, she couldn’t reach him. “I’m heading out in a few minutes. Are you sure you’re okay?”

No . But instead of saying that, she let out a long, suffering sigh. “Yes, Wyatt. I’ll be fine. I’m going to take tonight to be alone, and I’ll go down to the restaurant tomorrow and surprise them. Say I came home for the weekend to visit and then figure it out from there.”

Wyatt ran his hands over his jeans, and she was already gearing up for whatever speech he was about to give her. “I know things have been tough for you.”

“I just need to get back on the horse, right?” She bit out. She’d lost her job, had no way to pay back her ungodly MBA loans, and her roommate had asked her to move out. All on the same day! She felt like a little wallowing was justified.

“Look, I know where you are. I’ve been where you are,” he implored.