Her Other Secret Page 2

  “The guy didn’t swim to shore. I didn’t hear any splashing. I didn’t see his face and wouldn’t even have noticed he was behind me except for Tessa’s warning,” he said, trying to keep his mind on the problem in front of them.

  She turned back to Ben again. “Some people believe me.”

  Maybe her need to solve problems was rubbing off on him because Hansen couldn’t wait any longer. “I give up. What is going on with you two?”

  “Doug Tottenridge.” That’s all Ben said.

  Tessa agreed with a sharp nod.

  Hansen still didn’t get it. “Ruthie’s son? About fourteen or so?”

  “And handsy.” Tessa wiggled her fingers in front of her as she talked.

  All the amusement ran out of Hansen. His mood switched from charmed to pissed in two seconds. “Wait. Did he touch you?”

  “We were in the market parking lot. He palmed my butt and I smacked him. This happened in front of his friends. He got embarrassed, I guess, because he started yelling at me.” Tessa’s gaze switched from Hansen to Ben and back again as she talked. “I walked away and when I came back out from shopping, my car had been keyed.”

  “I couldn’t prove it was him and—”

  Tessa didn’t let Ben finish. “We both know you didn’t want to throw the son of Ruthie—the town matriarch, the head of the Whitaker board, and your boss—into prison.”

  Ben frowned. “Prison? He’s a teenager.”

  “Last I checked a kid won’t do hard time for acting like a jackass, but he should pay for the damage and get some sort of warning about destruction of property and the concept of assault. It’s not okay for him to touch people without permission.” Hansen also thought it would be perfectly fine if he had a talk with the kid. Kind of a scared-straight sort of thing.

  “That’s what I said.” She stared at Hansen as she gestured in Ben’s general direction. “He, your dear friend here, refused to do anything about the situation.”

  Ben sighed, sounding as if he’d had enough, and stood up. “That’s not true.”

  “And I bet you think the fact some dude is walking around the island in a soaking wet suit isn’t a big deal either.”

  Ben closed his eyes. It looked like he might mentally be counting to ten. “I’ll look into it.”

  “Forget it,” she said. “I’ll do it myself.”

  “Tessa, don’t—” But it was too late for Ben to make his point. She’d taken off, shutting the door behind her with enough force to make the glass rattle. “Right. You’re on it.”

  “She’s not your biggest fan.” Hansen knew that wasn’t actually true. He’d been out with Ben more than once and ended up spending a few hours with him and Tessa, listening to bad music in the sandwich shop turned after-hours-lounge at night. They’d laughed and talked about some of the more interesting inhabitants of Whitaker. Ben and Tessa seemed so comfortable that Hansen had felt more than a subtle kick of jealousy.

  One night, two weeks ago, he broke down and asked Ben about his feelings for Tessa, and Ben just laughed. He insisted he saw Tessa—who admitted to being twenty-six, but who knew the truth about anyone’s real age or past on Whitaker—as a sister. Hansen decided right then and there something was wrong with Ben’s female radar.

  “The Tottenridge kid is an entitled jackass,” Ben said as he sat back down.

  “You talked to him about Tessa?”

  “Of course.”

  “Want me to rough him up to, you know, drive home the point?” Hansen didn’t really mean that, but he was pretty sure he could find the right words to scare the crap out of the kid.

  Ben’s eyebrow lifted. “Let me guess. You’re volunteering because Tessa has a thing for you and you happen to thing her back but are too much of a loser to tell her?”

  “Okay, no.” Actually, yes, but that wasn’t the point. “Because the kid shouldn’t touch a woman without her okay.”

  “Agreed. And I did threaten him but made it sound like I was willing to do him a favor. I’m making him volunteer in the office. Did a man-to-man deal with him, but made it clear this was his only warning.” Ben shrugged. “We’ll see if it works.”

  Sounded like problem solved, or mostly, so Hansen didn’t see the issue. “You could tell Tessa that.”

  “I will as soon as he starts the volunteer hours. She’ll want to dictate when and how many hours he should do before I can even get him in here.” Ben leaned back in his chair. “My leverage against him is limited without evidence. His mother will go all protective mama bear if she finds out this really is about the allegations and not for school credit. Tessa doesn’t need the pressure Ruthie will apply. Frankly, neither do I.”

  That sounded more like the Ben he knew. “I guess you do know how to do your job. That’s a relief.”

  “Thanks.” Ben sighed. “So, let’s get back to this random guy walking out of the water. What the hell is that about?”

  “No idea. But, damn, he disappeared before I could get a good look at him.”

  “Were you really trying to grab him?”

  This part didn’t make him look very good. Hansen knew that but explained anyway. “It seemed ridiculous at first, like a prank or something. I figured I’d follow, he’d hear me and then turn around and give me a reasonable explanation that I could take back to Tessa.”

  Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

  “No idea, but it didn’t happen that way. He hit the trees and must have started ducking and hiding because I didn’t see or hear him. I gave up and ran back to Tessa because I didn’t think she should be alone, just in case the guy doubled back.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Hansen didn’t think any of it did, but okay. “I tried not to make a big deal of it because we both know if I did, Tessa would take that as a sign to launch into a private investigation, or worse, a personal crusade, and potentially put herself in danger.”

  Ben nodded. “And then there’s the part where you love her.”

  “I’m ignoring you every time you say that.”

  “Fair enough. This could be innocent, but this could also go really wrong.”

  Hansen more or less assumed that could happen at any time, so he might not be the right guy to ask. “There’s no rational explanation that I can come up with. I don’t have any idea where he went.”

  “I’ll start searching the island and asking around.” Ben folded his arms behind his head. “Now, back to you and Tessa.”

  Interesting how he tried to slip that in. Hansen still wasn’t biting. “Not a topic that’s up for discussion. Ever.”

  “Fine, live in denial.”

  “The weather is lovely in denial, thank you.”

  “We both still have a problem.” Ben slowly lowered his arms again. “Tessa’s on the trail and will not let this go, despite the fact I’m investigating.”

  Hansen’s mind spun with the possibilities. Tessa tracking the stranger through the woods. Tessa swimming out to the boat and climbing on. Tessa getting herself entangled in something without having all the facts.

  Tessa being threatened or hurt.

  His stomach sank. One of the sexiest things about her, besides that face and those killer legs . . . and every other part of her . . . was this sense of curiosity that wound around her. She didn’t come off jaded or reclusive, like a lot of people on the island.

  That meant one thing . . . “You’re saying I need to go find her.”

  Ben shrugged. “You can, or I will, but I need to search for our mystery man as well. It’s a busy morning on Whitaker.”

  “In other words, I get to talk to Tessa because she hates you right now.”

  “I disappointed her.” Ben’s eyebrow lifted. “Maybe you should take that as a lesson.”

  Hansen wasn’t in the mood for cryptic conversation. The whole morning had been a mystery so far. “Which is?”

  “Stay on her good side.”

  He doubted his ability to do that. Not with his history. He couldn’t fi
ght off the nagging sensation that he was about to ruin everything.

  Chapter 3

  Morning slipped into afternoon and Tessa, after conducting a quick check of the area for Water Man, wandered over to her favorite spot, Berman’s Lodge. There was a long, convoluted, and highly romanticized history of the Berman family helping to build up the island. For as long as anyone could remember, the Bermans had been around . . . until now.

  The last of the Bermans, a great-however-many-grandson, preferred city life and never moved back after college, forfeiting his unwanted birthright. His parents sold the lodge to Sylvia Sussex, the person most likely to tick off the town matriarch, Ruthie Tottenridge.

  Rumors aside, the Bermans and Ruthie were engaged in a long-running feud. The Bermans were winning because along with owning the lodge, the place with the best food on the island, they made sure Sylvia “inherited” the Berman family seat on the Whitaker board. She voted on every motion and her opinion carried a lot of weight, which Ruthie hated. So, the feud waged on.

  Tessa sat on a barstool and balanced her elbows against the bar. It took ten minutes, but she’d retold the story about the boat and the man, leaving out the merman joke because people scattered around the room in those big wooden booths listened in. Most of them looked as if they possessed no sense of humor.

  “Wearing a suit?” Sylvia frowned as she reached for the phone. “We need to call Ben. This stranger could be dangerous. At the very least, Ben needs to check on him and ask some questions.”

  As Tessa predicted, Sylvia got it. The whole scene had been more than just weird, or whatever word Hansen used.

  “Already done,” Tessa said as she watched Sylvia do ten different things, including making mimosas, at the same time.

  “Good. And you should . . .” Sylvia’s voice trailed off as she glanced toward the doorway that led to the lodge’s wood-paneled open center hall.

  Tessa didn’t have to ask. The hush that fell over the room clued her in. This happened whenever Hansen Rye showed up somewhere in town. Conversation shifted to hushed tones. People looked at him and played this game where they’d pretend not to notice he was out, walking around with other humans, while remaining riveted to his every move.

  Fact was, he showed up and all activity stopped. Not just for her, but for everyone. He radiated that kind of power. He commanded a room even though he acted like he’d rather be anywhere else.

  Without saying a word or nodding a hello to anyone, he stalked across the room toward the bar, those long legs carrying him in a quick but deliberate pace. He shot Sylvia a quick smile, but it faded by the time he glanced at Tessa. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  She doubted that was true. “I’m talking with Sylvia right now.”

  “I can see that but—”

  Before he could finish the sentence, Sylvia grabbed a glass from under the bar, filled it with water, the only thing anyone had seen him drink, which was another source of gossip about him, and put it in front of him. Cool as could be. “How are you, Hansen?”

  Sylvia never flinched. She did not ruffle easily. All anyone knew was that she’d shown up on Whitaker less than a decade ago, after a rough divorce. She was part of the island’s need-a-restart crowd. In her late forties, she looked much younger with her runner’s build and straight blond hair. She could be found almost around the clock working at the lodge and rarely entered into the gossip game of who’s-sleeping-with-who that the locals liked to play.

  Hansen downed the water and set the empty glass on the bar. “Exhausted.”

  It was as if he knew how sexy he looked with his head thrown back as he downed a drink. Even when furious with him, Tessa could admit the whole clueless-to-the-world-around-him thing worked for her.

  “Have you been running around town?” Sylvia asked.

  “After her.” Hansen nodded in Tessa’s general direction.

  She didn’t appreciate being the object of his wordless gesture or him acting like he was in charge of babysitting her. The man really needed to get over himself. “What do you want?”

  Sylvia laughed. “Tessa. Wow.”

  “He deserves the tone. Trust me.” He brought out the worst in her. She’d been nothing but friendly and welcoming, and all he did was grumble back at her.

  Hansen nodded. “I probably do, but I still need to talk with you, Tessa.”

  “Right now?”

  “That depends.” His eyebrow lifted as he stared at her. “Is your immediate plan to go out looking for the stranger?”

  She toyed with the idea of not answering. It wasn’t her style to be rude, but he hadn’t done anything to support her in Ben’s office. Not really. Now he loomed over her, looking ready to pounce.

  After a few seconds of quiet—the kind that echoed around the room as the other diners seemed to hold their collective breaths waiting for an answer—Sylvia jumped in. “Tessa stopped in to get coffee before heading out to find this mysterious island visitor.”

  “Traitor.” Tessa didn’t even try to whisper the comment.

  Hansen nodded. “Then, yes. We need to talk now.”

  Tessa didn’t even notice Sylvia had left until the door behind the bar swung open and she walked back in with a to-go coffee cup in hand.

  “Here you go.” Sylvia handed the cup to Tessa, then looked at Hansen. “You?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  Sylvia nodded, then scurried around the end of the bar and went to check on other customers. She employed waitstaff but she welcomed everyone personally. She also tended to pick up a good deal of gossip, even though every single person on Whitaker insisted this was the kind of place where people minded their own business.

  Sure it was.

  “Such good manners . . .” Tessa took a sip of the piping-hot coffee. “To other people.”

  Hansen had the good sense not to sigh at her. He didn’t deny his crappy behavior either. “I know you’re ticked off at me.”

  “At you, Ben, and men in general.”

  He sat down and leaned in close until only a few inches separated them. This veered away from his usual looming. This felt more intimate. Friendly even.

  “All men?” he asked.

  On those two simple words, her breath caught in her throat. She pretended she couldn’t smell his woodsy shampoo and didn’t swallow three times before she kicked the words out. “Is this really why you needed to talk with me?”

  “You can’t run around the island by yourself right now.” His voice was softer and carried a note of concern.

  She didn’t know if this was some sort of ploy, but for a few seconds his hard outer shell seemed to crumble. All of the noise from creaking dining-room chairs and clanking silverware faded away. It was so tempting to get sucked in, but self-preservation surged through her. Hansen was a practical guy and a smart one. If he thought being unusually nice would get his way, he’d try it.

  She went for another angle—common sense. “Why?”

  His expression went blank. “What?”

  “You didn’t think the man walking out of the water was a big deal. What was the word you used . . . odd?” She rolled her coffee cup between her palms, letting the warmth seep into her skin on the overcast day. “Ben doesn’t seem concerned. He hasn’t made any sort of announcement or asked around yet.”

  Hansen slowly stood up straight again. Wariness thrummed off him.

  Smart man.

  “Your point is?” he asked.

  “If this mysterious stranger is not dangerous, and if him showing up on the beach isn’t a big thing we should worry about, then why is it unsafe for me to walk around the island?” He glanced away from her and she knew she had him. “Under your reasoning, I’d be as safe on Whitaker today as I was yesterday.”

  “I’m not sure now is the time for verbal games.”

  “Uh-huh.” She refrained from shouting touché. “But you will admit I have a point, right?”

  He hesitated for a few seconds before responding. “Rel
uctantly.”

  “Was that so hard?”

  He winced. “A little. Yes.”

  “I’m starting to think you have a problem with women.” Tessa spotted eighty-year-old Louise Stone sipping tea and another couple openly staring at them from their table ten feet away. Tessa shot them a half wave hello.

  “People.”

  Her head snapped back until she faced Hansen again. “What did you just say?”

  “People. I’m generally not a fan.”

  As if that were news. “On behalf of people everywhere, thank you.”

  “Not you.” He shrugged. Even took a step back. Generally looked uncomfortable in his skin, which never happened. “You, I like.”

  She almost spit out a mouthful of coffee. “Since when?”

  “Let’s say you’re growing on me.” He sighed and crossed his arms. Then uncrossed them again.

  For once he made her look smooth. No one would believe her if she told them how Hansen fidgeted and mumbled while talking to her. Then it hit her . . . but it couldn’t be. Not from him, right? “You’re not very good at flirting, are you?”

  His gaze shot back to hers. “Is that what you think we’re doing?”

  Good grief, he was. Sure, he was bumbling his way through it and looked as uncomfortable as a human could look without actually peeling off their own skin, but still she saw that weird spark in his eye and heard the note of amusement, genuine and kind of sweet, in his voice.

  Some of her frustration about the day and the man and Hansen’s failure to even pretend to be excited about it all faded away. “You’re older but not wiser.”

  “I’m thirty-five.”

  He barely looked thirty, but the bigger point was that little tidbit was the first personal information he’d ever shared with her. She wasn’t sure if she should feel honored or call an ambulance. “A lot older then.”

  He snorted, healthy ego and self-assurance seemingly back on course. “Nine years is not a lot.”

  But she refused to let this go. They’d made progress . . . sort of. At least she intended to see it that way. “And you just happen to know how old I am?”