On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(9)

There was one final order sitting under the heat lamp, and I checked the receipt.

Captain Jack Sparrow.

I highly doubted Johnny Depp was in Cottonwood Cove, and I couldn’t wait to see who the smartass was who’d placed this order.

I took the bag to the front, as the restaurant had all but cleared out. Closing time was around the corner and everyone was making their way out the door.

A few people stopped me on their way out. This was what I loved about my hometown. Everyone knew everyone, and it really was just like one big, happy family.

J.R., who had been the town Santa Claus for as long as I could remember, picked me up and spun me around as I clung to the to-go order in my hand that dangled behind his back.

“Good to see you, sunshine.” He set me on my feet, and I pushed up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“You, too,” I said, before turning and hugging his wife, Sandy.

I waved my goodbyes and turned just as the door opened.

And the air left my lungs for the second time this week when I came face-to-face with my nemesis.

Enemy number one.

It didn’t help that he was painfully good-looking. And I wasn’t easily impressed by men. But this particular man was the whole package. He had the looks, the confidence, and the swagger to balance it all out.

And I despised him… obviously.

He was tall, with muscles straining against his white tee and broad shoulders.

Shoulders of the hottest quarterback in the league.

Green eyes. Blond hair. Chiseled jaw with a little bit of scruff.

The bastard.

He reached for the bill of his baseball cap and turned it around slowly as he met my gaze.

No one was up at the hostess stand, as Brandy was most likely helping the busboy, Lionel, who also happened to be her boyfriend, clear off the tables.

He glanced down at the apron that I was wearing, and his brows cinched together. I’d only put it on to protect the white blouse and skirt that I wore beneath it.

“You work here now?” he said, his voice low, and I didn’t miss the pity in his tone.

Nothing pissed me off more than being pitied.

Well, being escorted out of a press conference and being fired probably trumped being pitied, but I still didn’t like it.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s none of your business. What do you want?”

“I’m picking up a to-go order.” He squared his shoulders, and his face hardened.

It took everything in me not to laugh.

“You must be Captain Jack Sparrow?” I mocked.

“Just trying to keep a low profile,” he said, glancing around to see that the place was practically empty. “Hey, for the record, I didn’t know you’d lost your job over what happened at that press conference. I’m hoping you got a call today?”

Anger coursed through my veins. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

“I don’t need you sticking your nose into my business. I’m not taking that job back because I never should have been fired. I was doing exactly what I was supposed to do.”

“Just take the goddamn job,” he said, his jaw clenching like he was aggravated.

“Oh, I’m sorry if getting me fired has inconvenienced you. I’m going to write as a freelancer until I get hired by a magazine that respects its reporters. So, unless you want me to interview you, I’m going to treat you exactly the way that you treated me.” I slammed the bag of food against his chest and turned around and shouted to Lionel to come help me.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said with an annoyingly sexy smirk on his face.

He had no idea just how ridiculous I could be.





four





Lincoln





She’d just slammed me in the chest with a bag of ribs and called over some teenage kid, who was a scrawny little thing. The dude couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet.

“Uh, yes, Miss Brinkley, did you need something?” the small dude said, turning his gaze to me before his eyes bulged. “You’re, oh my gosh, you’re Lincoln Hendrix.” He proceeded to bend over to grab his knees as he started hyperventilating and wheezing.

“Lionel!” Brinkley snapped, shooting him a look that basically said she’d harm him if he didn’t do what she said. “Escort this man out of here, please.”

“Really?” I said with a chuckle. “I’m standing next to the door, and I’m on my way out. You’re going to make this poor kid have a panic attack just to prove a point?”

“Damn straight. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, Captain.”

I barked out a laugh now because she was absolutely out of her mind.

And hot as hell.

“Don’t worry about it, Lionel. I was just leaving. Thanks for the food, sweetheart.”

Once again, she held her hand up and flipped me the bird. Her pretty, pink lips pursed together, and she raised a brow, waiting for me to leave.

Lionel sheepishly moved toward me and pushed the door open before whispering, “Is there any way that I could get your autograph?”

“Lionel!” she shouted from a few feet away again. “No fraternizing with the enemy.”

I quickly took the pen and the pad he was holding in his trembling hand and signed it for him. “You better get back in there. She’s a bit terrifying.”