Love and Pancakes (Rockland Falls Book 1) Read online

Page 2


  “Oh. Of course,” Mom says, turning and looking at the house.

  “Why don’t you come stay with me?” Harper says, wrapping an arm around Mom’s shoulder and pulling her in for a hug.

  “Umm,” Mom starts, glancing over at her brother and sister-in-law.

  “I have two guest rooms. You can all stay with me,” Samuel offers.

  “What about Marissa?” Jensen asks, all eyes turning my way.

  “I’ll just stay at my place,” I say, my voice still a bit shaky from emotion.

  “I don’t think they’ll let you yet, Riss. Not until the investigation is finished,” Jensen says, insinuating that I might not be able to go back to my own home tonight. Not until they rule out arson.

  “Do you really think so? The fire didn’t touch the back cottage, did it?” Mom asks, giving her full attention to me.

  “No, it didn’t,” I confirm.

  “I’ll go find out,” Samuel offers, turning and walking toward the fire chief.

  Conversation happens around me, but I’m unable to focus on anything other than the mess in front of me. The house is being cleared out, but the damage remains. What they’ll find from their investigation is beyond me, but I know it wasn’t arson. It couldn’t be. Everyone loves this house, and no one would ever think to cause damage, especially when there are guests inside.

  “It’s as we thought. Riss, you won’t be able to stay in the cottage until after the fire marshal and insurance adjustor finish their investigations. He said he could arrange for someone to accompany you inside so you could gather some of your personal belongings such as clothes, but nothing else. Mom, unfortunately, you can’t go inside the house for any of yours. Not until it has been cleared,” Samuel confirms.

  “Since Mom, Emma, and Orval are staying with Samuel, you can stay with me,” Harper offers, a sad smile crossing her beautiful face. Unable to speak, I nod my head in agreement.

  About thirty minutes later, Jensen is loading my bag into the back of Harper’s car. A few items of clothing and some of my toiletries was all I was allowed to take, but at least it’s something. There’s no way I could fit into my sister’s clothes – not by a long shot. Our height difference alone would make that practically impossible, let alone her subtle curves and leaner frame. Throw in our hair colors (her red to my blonde), and we’re as different as night and day.

  “I’m not sure I could sleep yet, and I’m dying to find out what happened,” Mom says, her attention focused on the house.

  “Let’s all go back to my place. We can all fill you in before trying to sleep,” Samuel suggests, then turns and looks to me for confirmation.

  “That’s fine. I’m not sure I could sleep either,” I add, my voice sounding distant and hollow.

  I climb into my sister’s car, and glance back at the now-empty house. Everything is in that place: my heart and soul, my passion, my financial stability. We slowly make our way down the lane, the house fading and eventually disappearing from sight. As we head toward Samuel’s house, I try to close my eyes, but all I can see is the spark. All I can hear is the zap of electricity. All I can smell is the burnt plastic and molten wiring.

  It’s going to be a long night.

  One I’ll never forget.

  Chapter Two

  Rhenn

  The drive from my hometown of Jupiter Bay, Virginia to Rockland Falls, North Carolina is only a few hours, but it feels like I’ve been on this particular stretch of road for days. Maybe that has something to do with the lack of sleep I had last night, and I can’t even say it was the enjoyable kind. No, there was no woman warming my bed, as preferred, but another last-minute work emergency that kept me up until about three in the morning. Someone broke into a new house across town, and the result was a rework of their security system. At midnight.

  Good times.

  But when money is thrown at the boss, he takes it, which is why I was called out shortly after midnight for a job that would normally have been completed during daylight hours.

  I crank up the Metallica, letting the heavy metal pulse through my veins and energize me. Well, I guess I can thank the three cups of coffee I’ve consumed since I pulled out of town at eight this morning for that. I’m accustomed to rising early, but this morning had my system all out of whack, thanks to work.

  I yawn for the thousandth fucking time as I finally spy the Welcome to Rockland Falls sign. Thank Christ. I could use a big sandwich, a hot shower, and a bed – and I’m not really particular of the order.

  My GPS takes me to the heart of the city, with its big, brick storefronts and large town square. There’s a strong Mayberry vibe here, not too dissimilar from my own hometown. The entire block is nothing but festive gardens, large walking paths, park benches, a few gazebos, and in the center, a band shell. It’s large, covered, and shows a bit of wear – probably more so from usage than anything else.

  When I reach my destination, I pull along the street, anxious to get out and stretch my legs. A large white house sits before me, with dozens of bright flowerpots and hanging baskets in all shapes and colors. An American flag is perched on one of the white pillars and a welcome mat in front of the front door. I’ve definitely landed right smack-dab in the heart of small-town America.

  “You must be Mr. Burleski,” an older woman greets me as she steps out the front door.

  “I am, and call me Rhenn, please,” I reply, walking up the steps.

  “I’m Janice Clawson, it’s a pleasure to have you stay with us,” she says as she steps forward. I reach out my hand, but she quickly swats it away, resorting to pulling me in for a big hug instead. “My husband is Clyde and he ran to the store. He’ll be back shortly,” she adds, opening the front door and waving me inside.

  Without saying a word, I follow the petite older woman into her home. I’ve never stayed at a bed and breakfast before, but from what I’m gathering, Rockland Falls is full of them. Not one hotel for miles. The place is definitely homey, even though I’d consider it a tad on the formal side. Wingback chairs in a floral print and a large matching sofa adorn the living room area, while the dining room is filled with a massive ceremonial table that must seat sixteen. Fresh flowers that match portraits on the walls, rich cherry woodwork, and the scent of freshly baked bread top off the ambiance of my new home away from home for the foreseeable future.

  “You’re lucky you came to town this week and not the next. The closer we get to the Memorial Day holiday, the fuller our reservation calendar,” Janice says, approaching a small desk in the main foyer.

  “I’m glad you were able to accommodate me on such short notice,” I tell her, trying to recall everything my boss, Craig, said about this trip. He was able to find me a reservation for five nights, but after that, it was a bit more challenging. With the Grayson Bed and Breakfast out of commission for the time being, everything else became completely booked in a matter of hours. Adjustments to schedules had to be made, which is why finding a room for myself in a thirty-mile radius became practically impossible. No one could accommodate me for more than a night, here and there.

  That’s when we had to come up with Plan B.

  “We’re happy to have you stay with us. All of the information you need is in this pamphlet. Breakfast is served six until nine, lunch from eleven to one-thirty, and dinner is served at six o’clock. The first two meals are buffet-style, while dinner is a wonderful sit-down affair. We hope you’ll be able to join us nightly,” she details, handing me the pamphlet and telling me about my room’s amenities.

  “Do you have any questions?” she asks, her bright blue eyes sparkling warmly.

  “I don’t think so, Janice.”

  “Then I’ll show you to your room. You’re in the Roosevelt room at the top of the stairs, first door on the left.” She chats the entire time we ascend the wide staircase, telling me about the history of their business. It’s all fascinating, really, but all I want is that hot shower, big sandwich, and warm bed. Hell, I’m not even picky on
the warm bed part. I could probably sleep for days in one of those stiff wingback chairs.

  But a decent nap isn’t on my schedule yet.

  I have an appointment at one with the homeowner of the bed and breakfast I’m here to work on. The favor I’m doing for a friend and his family, even though I’m being paid for the job. It took a bit of workload juggling to make this happen, but that’s okay. I would have done it again in a heartbeat for my friend, Nick, and his new wife, Meghan.

  Speaking of…

  My phone starts to ring in my pocket, and I smile the moment I see his name on the screen.

  “I’ll let you get settled,” Janice says with a wave as she retreats from the room, securing the door on her way out.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be balls deep in the only woman you ever get to screw for the rest of your life? Why the fuck are you calling me? Can’t keep it up?” I tease in way of greeting to the man who has been my closest friend since grade school.

  “Actually, he has no problem whatsoever getting it up. It’s up…quite a bit, actually, and I just finished taking advantage of him. He’s resting.” Her soft voice filters through the phone, making me bark out a laugh.

  “Sorry, Meg. I thought it was my ugly friend calling.”

  Her laughter fills the phone line. “He’s actually finishing up with a patient. We’re going to lunch soon, but I thought I’d call to make sure you arrived,” Meghan says.

  Nick and Meghan were married almost two weeks ago, and after a week-long honeymoon in Hawaii, are just now getting back into the swing of things as husband and wife. And co-workers, actually, though they’ve been that for many years. My friend is a dentist and his new bride his hygienist. What started out as friends turned into much more. To be honest, I saw this day coming for quite a while. Even though they were both in denial of their feelings, I could tell that my friend was completely smitten by his employee. Even though I love to rib on him for attaching the old ball and chain, I’m slightly envious of their relationship.

  Not that I would tell him that.

  Ever.

  “I just made it to the bed and breakfast I’m staying at this week. I’m meeting your great aunt at her place at one,” I confirm.

  “All right, well, I’ll let you go. I wanted to make sure you made it,” she says right before I hear mumbling through the phone line, and what sounds like kissing.

  “Can he not keep it in his pants for five seconds? Tell him you’re on the phone with his sexy best friend,” I grumble lightheartedly.

  Meghan laughs. “He says eat shit.”

  I smile. “Go make babies on your lunch, you crazy kids. I’m going to grab a shower and get ready to head over to the house.”

  “We’ll see you this weekend,” she says.

  “Bye, asshole,” Nick hollers into the phone right before the line goes dead.

  Dick.

  Shaking my head, I drop my phone onto the bed. I’d never begrudge either of them the happiness they’ve found. After Meghan lost her former fiancé, Josh, it took her a while to come to terms with her budding feelings for my friend. Now, they’re living one of those picture-perfect lives together, and I honestly couldn’t be happier for them.

  It’s just not for me.

  No picket fences.

  No cute little wife waiting for me when I get home.

  No fairy-tale ending.

  Fairy tales are crap.

  They’re a mirage set in place to give off the appearance of happily ever after.

  But I know it’s shit.

  And why would a man want that when he can have a bit of variety in his life?

  Only, variety doesn’t quite hold the appeal it once held. I blame Nick and Meghan and the tearful declarations they made two weeks ago on the beach. Hell, even their exchange caused me to fight off a few unshed tears. I’m man enough to admit it. Their love story is pretty epic, but that doesn’t mean the lifestyle is for me. Even if my original plan doesn’t quite hold the same appeal it once did. Again, I blame the wedding. I haven’t felt the urge to go out since my best friend said “I do.”

  What I really need to do is get back on the fucking horse. I need to go out, find a gorgeous female who wouldn’t mind a few hours of uncomplicated, mind-blowing sex, and who knows the score when we’re done. Who understands that I’m walking away after with no intentions of looking back, and believe me, there are plenty of women out there who are willing to jump in bed with someone like me. They’re after one thing: pleasure. And that’s what I offer.

  Nothing more.

  Nothing less.

  My plan is set for tonight. I’m sure Mayberry has a few watering holes that single ladies like to frequent. Even on a Tuesday night. If Miss Fun and Run is out there, I’ll find her. It’s kinda like my secret talent.

  But first thing’s first. A quick shower to wash off my travels, and then I’ll follow my nose back downstairs to whatever was smelling so fucking good when I arrived. After a bite to eat, I’ll meet the homeowner of the bed and breakfast that requires my services. This job is expected to take several weeks, considering it’s a complete rewire of an old home. A home that’s used as a business.

  A few weeks away in this picturesque sleepy little town? Sure, I’ll be working, but that’s never stopped me before from having a little fun on the side. A new location, a chance to do a little sailing, and the prospect of beautiful women accompanying me…

  I could get used to this.

  * * *

  I pull onto the long driveway, surrounded by massive, old oak trees and perfectly trimmed shrubbery. It’s evident, at first glance, that someone takes great care of the property. I steer my truck up the gravel lane and am completely awestruck when I reach the clearing in the trees. There before me is the biggest house I’ve ever seen. With massive white pillars that extend all the way to the roof and a brightly painted front door, I can tell instantly that a lot of time goes into maintaining this place. Even if it could use a fresh coat of paint and updated windows, the owners have clearly taken care of their home to the best of their ability.

  I pull off to the side and park along a row of trucks that must belong to the contractors. This place is going to need a lot of work to fix the damage that the fire caused. And not just the fire, but smoke, soot, and water damage too. The Graysons have a massive undertaking here to get this place operational again.

  Stepping out of my truck, I stretch my back, grab my clipboard, and head toward the front door. It’s standing open, the screen door separating me from the interior with the breeze helping mask the intensity of the mid-May afternoon heat. Before my boots even hit the front steps, the woman I remember as Mary Ann steps out, a small smile playing on her lips.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Grayson,” I say, taking the steps two at a time until I’m standing before the petite woman.

  “Just Mary Ann, thank you. It’s good to see you again, Rhenn. I appreciate you coming down,” she says, shaking my hand with a firm grip.

  “It was no problem. I’m just glad to help out,” I tell her as she motions toward a small table with chairs sitting over in the corner on the front porch. I take a seat at the chair across from the piles of folders and papers, a clear indication that Mary Ann has been out here working for a while now.

  “Can I get you something to drink? We don’t have power, of course, but Jensen has been keeping a cooler with cold beverages stocked.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  She pulls what looks like blueprints out of one of the folders and opens the large document. “He should be here soon. Jensen had to run and finish a job not too far from here, but will be back shortly. You’ll also meet Marissa. She’s upstairs starting to clean the guest rooms. We got lucky that they were free of water damage, but unfortunately, the soot covered about every surface in the house.”

  “I’ve worked a few electrical fire repairs. No one ever really thinks about the damage caused by smoke and soot, but it’s horrible,” I say, leaning back
in the chair to get a good look at the property.

  There’s a large garage with a storage shed out back, an old tire swing hanging from a branch of one of the big oak trees, and lush green grass. Even with the addition of several extra work trucks and the load of lumber and building supplies that was dropped in the driveway off to the left and out of the way, it’s still an impressive property.

  “We have over ten acres here,” she says, drawing my attention away from the green leaves and gently swaying branches. “Our property extends about one hundred yards from that tree line, and all the way back to the ocean. When Jensen gets here, I’ll have him take you for a tour,” she says politely, taking a sip of what I’m assuming is iced tea.

  “It’s great here. Very serene,” I note, trying to ignore the deep strum of my heart and weird sense of longing that tries to settle in as I take in the almost picture-perfect location.

  “That it is,” she replies, digging out a folder and sliding it across the table. “Here is everything we were given from the contractor. I believe he forwarded the same to your boss.”

  “He did. We went over it together before I arrived.”

  “So you’re good?” she asks, twisting her hands on the table top in a nervous gesture. Frankly, she’s holding it together a lot better than other homeowners I’ve seen in this same predicament. Nothing brings on all of the damn emotions like the threat or reality of losing everything you own.

  “I am. My supplies should be here first thing tomorrow and I’ll be here to oversee the shipment, as well as start immediately.”

  Mary Ann takes a deep breath and seems to relax just a bit. “Thank you, Rhenn. It means so much to me to have a familiar face here to help. It has been incredibly stressful, and not just on me, but on my children.” She looks over my shoulder, not really focusing on anything. “Especially Marissa.”

  I nod my head, understanding what she’s saying, but at the same time, I’m not really as close as she may think. To tell the truth, I don’t really know her at all. We have mutual connections. My best friend’s wife is the granddaughter of Mary Ann’s brother – the one she just recently reconnected with. So there’s a family connection, and while I’m not family, I was there at Nick and Meghan’s wedding when Orval introduced Mary Ann as his sister.