Officer Greene’s eyes narrowed, just a little, and Trey realized he hadn’t sounded convincing. “Hope you enjoy working with at-risk teenagers, because that’s a big part of the program’s mission,” the man said. “You’ll be helping out at an academy for them, starting Monday.” He gave Trey a nod and headed off down the street.
Trey looked after him, not knowing which was more startling: the quaint sight of an officer actually walking a beat, or the idea of Trey having something to offer troubled teenagers. Yeah, he’d been one, but that didn’t mean he was great at relating to them as anything but a cop.
* * *
“COME ON, ZIGGY! Let’s go!” Erica Rowe clapped her hands as she ran down the steps that led from their little rental house to the waterfront, her goldendoodle leaping in hysterical circles around her. It was just after noon on a Tuesday, and a rare early dismissal from her teaching job.
The narrow little beach was empty. Good. At eleven months old, Ziggy was still a puppy, but due to his large size—already seventy-five pounds—people understandably expected good behavior from him. That was more likely to happen if he had the chance to run off some energy.
She jogged along beside the dog, watching him leap at the waves, jump back and then zigzag off to chase a seagull.
She needed to run off her own stress, too, or so her sister said; apparently, she had lines in between her eyebrows and had gotten too thin.
That was the pot calling the kettle black: Amber had no eyebrows at all and was emaciated and pretty much racked with anxiety. Erica’s heart twisted. Their move to the shore town was supposed to help Amber recover from her latest round of chemo. Or, at any rate, help her fulfill a dream.
Three months in, the dream part was looking more likely than the recovery.
To continue helping her sister fulfill that dream, Erica had to make a success of the academy’s behavior support program. It was the only job that paid enough to keep Amber, Amber’s daughter and herself living here, in the tiny town where they’d spent childhood summers.
Erica had to stay on the good side of the misogynistic principal who’d hired her, had to convince him that the academy’s program for at-risk teens should be continued, not terminated at the end of the school year per the wishes of some of Pleasant Shores’ newer residents.
No wonder she was stressed.
Ziggy started running faster, more purposefully, and in the distance Erica made out two figures: a man and a dog.
Great. She sprinted after her out-of-control pet. “Ziggy! Get back here!”
By the time she reached the guy and his fierce-looking German shepherd, Ziggy was in full attack mode, which meant nose-punching the shepherd and then dancing backward and play-bowing. His big plume of a tail was wagging.
The shepherd sat stoically beside the guy, who was...wow.
Was he some movie star she didn’t recognize? The guy was built, with blue eyes that crinkled at the corners and a square jaw beneath a day’s worth of heavy beard.
Erica wasn’t in the market for a relationship, not even for a fling, but she also wasn’t dead. She sucked in air and then focused on catching her breath and grabbing Ziggy’s collar. “Sorry!” she said. “He’s young. Stop it, Zig,” she added as her dog took another playful lunge at the shepherd.
The shepherd curled his lips back and bared his teeth.
The movie star grunted an order, which caused the shepherd to stop, midsnarl, and look up at him. Then he responded to another of Ziggy’s lunges with a low growl that made Ziggy leap away and cower behind Erica, whimpering.
“Your dog is terrifying!” she blurted out, kneeling to comfort Ziggy. “It’s okay, buddy. Mommy won’t let him hurt you.”
The man snapped another order at the dog, who lay down with nose on paws, looking ashamed. “You shouldn’t talk baby talk to your dog,” the man said to Erica. “He’ll just behave worse.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
He gestured at Ziggy, a slight frown marring his gorgeous face. “You’ll just make him more timid if you act like there’s a basis for his fear. You shouldn’t let him loose on the beach, either, if he can’t be controlled.”
She got enough mansplaining all day, every day, from the principal of her school, and she didn’t need more of it in her free time. “It’s private property along this stretch of shore,” she said. “Is there a reason you’re here with your, uh, highly trained dog?”
“I’m staying up there.” He gestured toward the row of cottages behind him.
She seriously doubted that. “Where?”
He gave her a look that suggested she’d asked something rude.
“Look,” she said, “I don’t want to be all exclusionary, but your dog looks ready to kill someone, and you don’t seem much friendlier. We have a lot of small dogs and little kids in Pleasant Shores, and it’s important they be safe. That’s why...” She pulled out her phone. “Everyone has agreed to call the police if they see anybody suspicious.”
“Wait.” He held up a hand, eyebrows coming together. “Don’t do that. My name’s Trey Harrison, and the address of the place I’m staying is...” He scrolled through his phone and then looked up. “Fifteen Shoreline Way, the cottage at the end of the lane. Julie White manages it. She’s the one who told me to come down to the beach until they finish cleaning the place.”
While they’d been talking, Ziggy and the shepherd had settled down and greeted each other in respectable dog fashion. Both tails began to wag.
“You’re staying at Julie’s place?”
“Uh-huh.”
Erica didn’t know Julie well. She’d met the woman when she and Amber had first moved into the cottage next door three months ago, had thought she’d seemed nice. Then they’d heard a lot of shouting coming from Julie’s house, and then it had gone silent and empty. Rumor had it the place had sold, although Erica had never seen a for-sale sign.
Come to think of it, though, there had been some activity there this week. So maybe the movie star was telling the truth and would be a new neighbor.
And maybe she’d been a little abrupt. “I’m sorry Ziggy jumped all over your dog,” she said, “and that I jumped all over you.” She held out a hand. “Welcome to Pleasant Shores.”
“Thanks.” He gave her hand a quick shake with his own large, calloused one, and his eyebrow lifted, just a little, his gaze lingering on her face.
She sucked in a breath. Nope, not dead. Okay, then. “Are you planning to stay awhile, or is this just a vacation?”