In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (love story books to read TXT) 📕

He couldn’t help but appreciate her no-nonsense attitude. No frills. No artifice. Just you get what you see. Nick liked that.

Louis’ wasn’t far from the gym and despite it being nine o’clock on a Friday night, traffic was light. Then again, traffic was always light on Anchor except for Sundays when tourists were either arriving or leaving. Lauren parked her Terrain beside his truck, and he walked around to her door. She stared at him for a few seconds before finally rolling the window down.

“What?”

“Are you coming in?”

“You plan to get some fancy-ass beer?”

“Do I look like the fancy-ass beer type?”

She looked him up and down. “I guess not.”

He took the assessment as a compliment. “I’ll be right back.”

With a nod, she rolled the window back up. Minutes later, he returned to his truck with beer in hand and they hit the road again. Nick led her to his cottage and parked in his regular spot. Leaving the vehicle, he noticed Lauren’s still sitting on the road. Jogging to her door, he said, “Pull in next to me.”

Ignoring the directive, she said, “What is this place?”

“My house,” he replied.

“You live here?”

The home was a simple cottage like many on the island. Nothing too fancy for a cook, yet not derelict or run down enough for the look of concern on her face.

“Yeah, I do. We aren’t going in though, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she snapped. “My cottage is on this street. I didn’t realize we lived near each other.”

He hadn’t either. “Small island, remember? You pulling in?”

“If we’re drinking, I might as well park at my place and walk. Give me two minutes.”

Nick stepped away to let her pass but stayed on the road so he could see walk back. Crime on Anchor was virtually nonexistent, but that didn’t mean he’d let her walk in the dark without some sort of protection. The main roads in the village had streetlights, but not these side roads closer to the water. He couldn’t tell how far down she went, but he was willing to wait as long as necessary for her to return.

When she reached the edge of his property, she noticed him. “Have you been there the whole time?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not a child, Stamatis. I can probably defend myself better than you can.”

“You some kind of self-defense expert?”

She drew closer, hands in her pockets and eyes on his cottage. “Something like that. So if we aren’t going inside, where are we going?”

“Around back.” He headed for his truck to get the beer. “Come on.”

Nick led her around the left side of the house, triggering the motion-activated floodlight. He followed the path he’d walked hundreds of times, turning at a rough patch to say, “Watch your footing through here.”

“I’m fine,” she said, then slipped and snatched a handful of his jacket.

He fought the urge to say I told you so. Twenty feet later they reached their destination and stepped onto the moonlit sand. Nothing but water stretched as far as the eye could see and Nick led her to the Adirondack chairs he kept on the sand not far from his back door.

“Have a seat.” He pulled two longnecks from the six-pack. The goal was to have a drink, not to get drunk, as much as he’d rather do the latter. Once she sat, he handed her a bottle and said, “Do you ever wish people would mind their own business?”

Lauren did a spit-take, spewing beer onto the sand. Once she’d wiped her chin, she said, “Did you really just ask me that?”

Nick laughed for the first time in hours. “I guess I have been sticking my nose into your business, but I have good intentions.”

“And those are?” she asked.

“What happens with Pilar’s affects my friends,” he pointed out. “I can’t sit back and let it fail when I can do something to help.”

Alex’s comment about Nick’s life affecting Nota’s replayed in his mind. He and the doc had similar motives, it seemed.

Shoving her beer bottle into the sand, Lauren rose to her feet. “If you brought me here to talk about how I’m going to fuck up this restaurant, I’m not interested.”

“Who said you were going to fuck anything up?”

“You just said you can’t let it fail. Like without you the place is doomed.” Lauren stormed back toward the path. “Heaven forbid a woman know what she’s doing.”

“Hold on,” he said, catching up to her. “Let’s be clear about something. You’re a chef. Period. Man. Woman. That’s all bullshit. Ingredients don’t care what you are. It’s what you do with them. About the failing shit, you and I both know how many new restaurants close within the first year, if they make it that long. You’re doing this for the first time in a unique place where you have no idea how anything works. All I’m trying to do is give you the knowledge you need to be successful. I’d be doing the same if you were a guy. And if you’d get that damn chip off your shoulder, I wouldn’t have to fight you every step of the way.”

They stared in silence broken by the waves crashing on the beach.

Lauren broke the stalemate. “Why?”

“Why what?” he said. “I just told you this affects my friends.”

“You said yourself, the Marina ran for over thirty years. If I don’t make this work, they can fire me and bring in another chef. So why are you so determined to help me?”

Time to fess up.

“Because you remind me of someone.”

“Please don’t tell me I look like some long-lost love of your life.”

Nick couldn’t help but laugh. “No,” he assured her. “I meant myself. If I’m going to tell this story, then I need more beer. Come back and sit if you want to hear it.”

Seconds after taking his seat, he heard sand shifting behind him before she joined him once again.

“This better be good.”

The only reason Lauren was still on this beach