Page 17 of Hideaway Heart

Instead, I grabbed my phone and Googled him. It took a bit of scrolling, but I finally found an article in a local paper about a former Navy SEAL named Xander Buckley who was restoring a decrepit old place called Tiki Tom’s into a high-end sports bar called Buckley’s Pub in the town of Cherry Tree Harbor. There were a few quotes from Xander and his brother, Austin, who was helping him with the renovation, and a photo of the two of them as well. I zoomed in, studying them both.

They looked alike, although Xander was smiling broadly for the camera and Austin had a more serious expression. Xander was also a little taller and broader through the back and shoulders. I wondered if his brother was older or younger, and if they were close. I wondered if Cherry Tree Harbor was home to him, and how far away it was. I wondered how well Kevin knew him and why my brother trusted him so much. Was it possible I could trust him too? I glanced at the empty space beside me.

Suddenly weary from the long day, I set my phone aside and lay back. As I drifted off to sleep, one last question popped into my head.

There were literally a hundred trees surrounding this place.

Had he chosen the one closest to my bedroom on purpose?

FIVE

xander

Of course I did.

SIX

kelly

When I openedmy eyes and checked my phone the next morning, it was just after eight. Sunlight streamed through the window above my head.

I smiled and stretched, realizing I could go back to sleep if I wanted, grab a book and read in bed, or take a cup of coffee outside and sit in the—

Shit! Coffee!

I flopped an arm over my head and groaned. I’d forgotten to pack coffee. Was there somewhere nearby I could grab a cup? Or should I just skip the lazy morning and go grocery shopping first thing? That way I could have my afternoon free, and it looked like it would be a gorgeous day.

Hauling myself out of bed, I threw on shorts and a tank top, pulled a hoodie on over it, and tugged on socks and sneakers. I loved my cherry red Lucchese boots more than anything, but since I was trying to go incognito for the next two weeks, I thought sneakers were a safer choice. I got recognized in those boots all the time.

Opening my bedroom door, I peeked toward the living room, but the couch wasn’t visible. Quickly, I darted across the hall into the bathroom. When I was presentable—hair in a neat ponytail, a little concealer and mascara—I ambled casually toward the living room, uncomfortable with the way my pulse had quickened at the thought of seeing him asleep on the couch. Would he be shirtless? Was his chest all inked up like his arms? Were we still mad at each other?

But he wasn’t there.

A black duffel bag was on the floor at one end of the couch, so I knew he had to be somewhere around here. I glanced toward the kitchen, but he wasn’t there either. Pushing open the front door, I found him sitting in the same rocking chair as yesterday, looking at his phone.

“Morning,” I said, my voice like sandpaper.

“Morning.” He looked up at me. “Sleep okay?”

His eyeswerebrown. A deep, dark chocolate brown, framed with thick black lashes.

“Uh, yes,” I said, clearing my throat. “I slept fine. You?”

“I’ve had better nights. But I’ve also had a lot worse.” He stifled a yawn. “I could use some coffee.”

“Me too. But I don’t have any here—I forgot to pack it.”

“Want to grab some in town?”

“Definitely,” I said, glad he didn’t seem to hold a grudge. “Let me get my purse.”

He rose to his feet. “Would it be all right if I used the bathroom to brush my teeth?”

“It’s fine.” I went into the house, and he followed me, grabbing a small pouch from the black bag on the floor. That’s when I blurted, “You could have used it last night, you know.”

He straightened up and shrugged. “You said yesterday I didn’t have bathroom privileges. I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“Well, just use the bathroom from now on, instead of a tree like some caveman.”