Page 2 of Heart’s Cove Hunks

I turn my phone over, and Toby drifts closer, glancing at my face every few seconds. He wants to keep the cat. No—he’s desperate to keep the cat. Katie is practically vibrating next to me, and my mother just flicks through the newspaper without a care in the world, but her head is tilted toward me. She’s listening.

Ever since I found out my soon-to-be—wait, no—my now-ex-husband had been having an affair, my life has been one long downward spiral. First, my marriage fell apart. Then, the divorce became a scary, life-changing reality. I had to move in with my mother at the tender, young age of forty-two. Finally, my sister Candice’s house burned down, so I moved from one family emergency to another. Moving to Heart’s Cove was supposed to be a fresh start, but I’m still waiting for it to get easier.

Now I’m here, with no marriage and no home and no job…

And a cat.

Katie jumps from foot to foot, brows arching high over her green-gold eyes. “Mom?”

Look, I don’t dislike cats. I just don’t need anything else on my plate. I don’t like surprises. Not right now. Not after the last surprise was finding out my dear husband had a long-time mistress. What I need right now is stability. Routine. Beautiful, safe boredom.

“I’ll think about it,” I squeeze out through gritted teeth, already regretting the words when they pass my lips.

My daughter squeals and throws her arms around my neck. I barely have enough time to put my cup of coffee down without sloshing it all over myself before Toby appears on the other side of me, cheek pressed against mine as he hugs me close. I’m smothered by my children, and I know no matter what happens, I’ve already lost. We’re keeping the cat.

“I’m getting dressed and picking up the car,” I announce when my kids fall away from me and run to the kitten’s box at the sound of a tiny mewl.

Before I can say anything about diseases, worms, and stray pets, Toby’s reaching into the box and nuzzling the little bundle of black fur under his chin. Katie reaches over with a delicate hand, running one finger down the kitten’s body. An adorable purr starts vibrating from the cat.

I glance at my mother, who peers at me above her purple glasses, then shrugs. She folds the newspaper and chucks my cheek. “From the moment that kitten appeared at the back door, we were never going to win this battle. Better to just accept it, Trina.”

Sighing, I glance once more at the kids and go back upstairs to get dressed.

The taxi drops me off outside the Cedar Grove, a small bar nestled on one end of a strip mall next to a pharmacy and a barber shop on the road that connects Heart’s Cove to the nearest airport. It’s just outside the city limits. Close enough to be convenient, but far enough that I didn’t run into anyone I knew last night. Like my sister Candice and her gang of merry besties.

I pay the driver and get out, eyes drifting to the car I left here last night. It’s a rusty heap of junk, if I’m honest, but I’m on a tight budget until I can find a job in Heart’s Cove. I’ll get a payout from the divorce—my ex-husband was a successful artist who got big while we were married—but that money will have to be budgeted carefully. My kids need me to be smart right now, and buying a new vehicle just doesn’t seem like a priority. Even if the car looks like it just rolled out of a junkyard.

I glance at the Cedar Grove.

My cheeks heat.

I came here last night hoping to see the handsome, sexy stranger named Mac who promised me a ride on his motorcycle a few weeks ago. I saw a Harley in the parking lot, and—like the desperate, divorced, forty-two-year-old biddy that I am—I couldn’t wait to throw myself at him last night.

But Mac wasn’t there. The motorcycle in the lot belonged to someone else.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. I was just lonely enough last night to do something stupid.

I had a glass of terrible white wine at the bar, until one grouchy old white-haired man in a Harley Davidson tee took pity on me and asked me to a game of pool. He had the remnants of a Scottish accent that’d been smoothed by decades away from home, and he called me doll in a way that was sweet and cheeky all at once.

So, I played pool.

The whole time, Mac’s name was on the tip of my tongue. All I had to do was ask about him. Hamish, my old, Harley-loving pool partner, probably could have given me Mac’s phone number. Mac did tell me all I had to do was go to the Grove and ask for him. When I found out Hamish owned the Cedar Grove, Mac’s name nearly came flying out of my mouth, but I clamped my lips shut until the feeling passed.

I mean, desperate much?

Maybe I was too much of a chicken to say his name out loud, or maybe I was just having too much fun playing pool with an old Scottish biker-dude with a fondness for pet names, but I decided I didn’t need to meet Mac again. I didn’t need to meet any men. All I wanted was to have an evening away from it all. Away from the mess that is my life.

By the end of the first game (which I lost quite spectacularly, by the way) I switched to gin and tonic. When I ordered my fourth drink, I knew I’d be coming back to pick up my car in the morning.

And here I am.

The Cedar Grove is dark, with the big timber doors closed tight. It’s barely eight o’clock in the morning, and I doubt it’s open. Not that I’d be going in for a tipple at this hour. Shaking my head, I walk to my car. Last night was fun, but I’m not going to make a habit of it. I have kids to take care of. A mother who needs me.

And a kitten, apparently.

Unlocking the car doors with my fob, I frown when I close the distance with the final few steps. A long sigh slips through my lips as I tip my head toward the sky. Wonderful. Just—just wonderful.

The front tire on the driver’s side is flat. I bend over and—don’t ask me why—I poke it, then straighten up again and reach for my phone. I can’t drive on that thing.