His Proposal, Their Forever

Justin gave their order and paid with Bailey’s twenty.

A foghorn blared inside the restaurant, the nautical sound effects matching the place’s boat theme.

“Here’s your change. I’ll bag up your catch.” The window slid closed.

“Did you ever work here?” Justin asked her, trying to fill the silence in her car.

“No, I thought being under a chef would teach me more than how to grill burgers and blend milk shakes.”

“Smart thinking for a teenager.”

“I like learning as much as I can about what I do.”

She had more going on in her head than what subject to paint next. She hadn’t known what she’d faced this morning, but she’d arrived prepared with files and paperwork.

Unlike him.

The window opened again. The man passed over the drinks. “Here’s your order.”

Justin put the drinks in the cup holders between their seats, then handed her the bag of food. She gave him directions to her house. He pulled forward and turned out of the parking lot.

The scent of burger and fries made his stomach grumble. “Smells good.”

“Tastes better.” Bailey opened the bag, removed a couple of fries and lifted them to his mouth. “Here.”

“Thanks—”

He hit the brake to let pedestrians cross the street.

Her fingers bumped into his chin, then slipped away, leaving a trail of heat.

A blush rose up her neck. Sexy.

Easy, guy. Justin needed to add “fingers” to the list of her lethal body parts, along with her breasts and her brain.

“Sorry,” she said.

He reminded himself to swallow. The spice hit the back of his throat. “Eat. We’re down to the final thirty seconds until you lose it.”

Bailey ate French fries, then a bite of her burger. “I feel better already.”

On her street, a man dressed in cargo shorts and a stained T-shirt stood next to Officer Grady Cole in front of a blue-painted cottage. Colorful flowers filled every space that wasn’t covered by grass, including the basket of a rusted bicycle leaning against the outside of a white picket fence.

The house looked surprisingly normal, though Justin hadn’t known what to expect. A run-down shack? A padded room? “That looks like your brother.”

“Two brothers. Grady and Ellis.” Bailey leaned forward. “Both should be at work.”

What now? Justin gripped the steering wheel. “How many brothers do you have?”

“Five, and one sister.”

“Where should I park?”

“The driveway is right past the police car.” She dragged her upper teeth across her lower lip. “I hope nothing’s wrong.”

He reached out, touched her forearm. A gesture of comfort, except he wasn’t 100 percent certain that was all. “Hey. I’m sure everything’s okay. Grady knew you injured your foot. They’re probably checking up on you.”

She nodded, but doubt remained in her gaze.

Justin switched on the blinker, turned into the driveway. Her brothers glared like wolves protecting their pack. His fight instinct kicked into high gear. He parked the car. Two against one. He’d faced worse odds and come out ahead.

“My brothers don’t look happy,” she said in an understated voice.

Justin recognized their don’t-mess-with-my-sister expression. He pulled the key out of the ignition. “Let’s find out why.”

* * *

Seated in her car, Bailey sipped her root beer. She needed one more fortifying drink of sugar to face her brothers. Ellis and Grady’s body language suggested they wanted to take someone out. They’d looked the same way when they found out she’d lied about going to a sleepover and snuck down to Seaside during spring break to hang out with college boys from the University of Washington.

No worries. She needed to stay calm and settle her brothers down. Fast. Or someone—namely, Justin—was going to get hurt.

Ellis, the second-oldest and married with kids, opened her car door. “Where have you been? We’ve been calling.”

“The inn.” She unbuckled her seat belt. “Grady knew where I was. Grandma, too.”

“Grady told me you were at the inn, but you didn’t answer my texts. When I called, all I got was your voice mail.” Ellis sounded like their dad, only more caring.

“Long morning. My cell phone died.” Bailey moved her legs out of the car. Her fingers dug into the seat fabric. She sucked in a breath. Oh, boy, that didn’t feel good.

“You’re hurt. And you look a mess.” Ellis touched her shoulder. He turned to Grady. “You’re right about her foot.”

Grady nodded. “Told you.”

“Excuse me.” Justin pushed forward, moving her brothers out of the way, and picked her up. “Bailey’s injured. Whatever you’re here for can wait until I get her inside.”

“Who are you?” Ellis asked.

“A Good Samaritan helping your sister,” Justin said. “Out of my way.”

Ellis grabbed the shopping bag from her hands. “Do you need anything out of the car?”

She nodded. “The artwork and our lunch.”

“On it,” Grady said.

Uh-oh. Her brothers were being too nice and not giving Justin a hard time. Something was up.

Justin carried her toward the front door. His strong arms cradled her. Her pulse quickened.

She didn’t like what Justin McMillian intended to do to the inn, but her heart melted a little. No guy had ever stood up to her brothers. Not that Justin had caused a confrontation. But he’d shown concern for her without worrying about the repercussions. That was new. And seeing Ellis and Grady get out of the way was funny. They were as stubborn as she was.

What Justin did for a living stole a building’s soul. But she was glad he was here. Pain and hunger must be softening her standards. “I appreciate the help.”

“I figured you needed to get inside. Not answer a lot of questions.”

Justin handed her the keys.

She pretended to unlock the door, not wanting another lecture from any man, brother or stranger, about forgetting to lock the front door, then opened it.

He carried her inside. “Is the couch okay?”

“Perfect.”

He set her down. Being horizontal felt good. If only her foot would stop hurting.

“Put your leg up on the back of the couch.” He eyed one of her paintings on the wall. “Nice artwork. You’re talented.”

Tingles filled her stomach like a flock of swallows. She wished his words didn’t mean as much as they did. “I love what I do.”

“You work here.”

She glanced at the paint-covered drop cloth and easel with an unfinished painting. All she’d wanted to do today was complete the piece, wash clothes and grocery shop. So much for plans. “Yes.”

Ellis set her yellow bag and lunch on the coffee table. He helped himself to some fries. “I’m Ellis Cole.”

“Justin McMillian.”

Ellis kneeled next to her. “How ya doing, sis?”

“My foot is killing me, but the inn is in one piece.” She smiled, proud she’d saved the structure from demolition, then grabbed more fries. “A good day.”

“Depends on your perspective,” Justin said.

Grady set a painting against the wall. “I texted Mom. She’s picking up Grandma. They’ll be right over to take you to the hospital.”

“Urgent Care will be fine.” Bailey eyed her brothers. “Why aren’t you guys at work?”

“Tyler called. He wanted me to find you,” Grady said in his no-nonsense police voice. A world away from the wild kid he’d once been.

“Tyler is my cousin,” she told Justin. “He’s the only lawyer in Haley’s Bay.” She looked at her two brothers. “If this is about me introducing him to one of the girls in my painting class—”

“It’s not.” Grady’s gaze ping-ponged from her to Justin. “I’m here on official business with news about the inn.”

Justin rocked back on his heels. His face tightened. “What news?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. McMillian, but your company is the victim of a fraudulent real estate transaction,” Grady said.

“Fraudulent?” Justin asked.

Ellis nodded. “You got conned.”

Bailey sat up. “What are you talking about?”

“Floyd Jeffries sold the inn to two buyers on the same day,” Grady said. “One buyer was McMillian Resorts. The other was represented by Tyler.”

Justin swore. “You’re joking, right?”

“I wish I was,” Grady said.

Justin’s face contorted, turned red. He started to speak, then stopped himself.

She didn’t know what to say to him. But the news made her dizzy. She leaned back against the sofa pillow. “That’s not the kind of person Floyd is. The man drives ten miles an hour below the speed limit. He’s no criminal.”

“Was,” Ellis said. “He changed after he met that girl on the internet. I heard he canceled all the upcoming events at the inn.”

Bailey’s body stiffened. “He didn’t cancel my paint night tomorrow.”

“You ran the art events, not Floyd,” Ellis said.

“I don’t know him as well as your sister does, but there must be a mistake.” Justin paced the length of the couch. The lines on his forehead deepened, more like canyons than wrinkles. “We have a top-notch team of lawyers. We might have misunderstood the permit process, but they’re professionals. They’d never fall for a scam deal.”

“Well, I heard Floyd gave the employees three days off with pay. Never told them the inn had been sold or they’d lost their jobs.” Ellis sat on the sofa arm. “That’s why no one was there last night or today.”

Oh, no. The staff. Bailey had been so worried about the inn itself she hadn’t thought about the employees. Floyd had worked with some of those people since he’d been a kid. None of this made sense. “That doesn’t sound like Floyd. He cares about those who work for him. He bought my senior prom dress when Dad wouldn’t pay for one without sleeves.”

“I know the guy was good to you.” Ellis’s voice softened, his tone compassionate. “Floyd bought fish from us for all these years, was often our biggest customer, but he’s not the same person. He’s changed.”

Justin shook his head. “Floyd might not have disclosed everything about the inn, but my sister negotiated a legal deal. She would never have paid cash otherwise.”

“Tyler’s client was a cash buyer, too. Part of Floyd’s requirements,” Grady said.

Ellis whistled. “That’s a lot of money.”

“No.” Bailey didn’t care what Grady said happened. “Floyd wouldn’t do that to me—to this town—and all the people who trusted him.”

“You’re right.” Ellis rolled his eyes. “Floyd headed to Belize with his twenty-five-year-old internet girlfriend and a suitcase of cash because of the good weather down there.”

“Floyd is fifty-five and he’s never married. He’s been lonely.” Bailey knew him better than her brothers did. “He’s been wanting to settle down for years.”

“With a woman less than half his age? The man has more money than common sense,” Ellis countered. “But now he’s added another zero or two to his net worth and he’s laughing all the way to some tropical island paradise with no extradition treaty.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Grady cautioned.

“Guilty, bro. You know it.” Ellis sounded convinced. “Tyler will prove Floyd is nothing more than a two-bit criminal. His parents and grandparents must be rolling in their graves.”

Justin stopped pacing, pulled out his cell phone and looked at Grady. “I have to speak to our attorneys. Is there anything you need from me right now?”

“No,” Grady said. “But don’t dispose of anything you took from the inn. I’ll need you to return everything.”

Justin’s face paled. “The truck’s here in town. I’ll have my crew unload the contents.”

The on-edge tone tugged at Bailey’s heart. The day had gone from bad to worse for him. Justin might want something completely different for the inn than her, but that didn’t matter right now. The guy looked as if he’d been knocked over with his own wrecking ball. She wanted to reach out to him, but she didn’t dare in front of her brothers.

“Thanks for driving me home,” she said instead. “I’m sure Ellis or Grady can give you a ride back to the inn if you don’t want to walk.”

“I will,” Grady offered.

“Thanks,” Justin said, sounding anything but grateful.

Grady waved. “See you later.”

“Wait.” Bailey looked over the back of the sofa. “You never said who else bought the inn.”

Ellis and Grady exchanged a knowing glance. Both shifted their weight.

Uh-oh. “What?”

“We were hoping you wouldn’t ask,” Ellis said. “But since you did, AJ said it was okay to tell you.”

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