Elizabeth Goddard - Stormy Haven

She drove down Main Street in Windsurf while he focused on his cell and called the sheriff’s department to relay the message about the shooter. Someone would meet them at the Oceanview Lodge in short order.

She steered into her garage and closed the door behind them, muting the sound of the winter storm. The call made, he remained sitting in the GMC, wrestling with how much to tell her.

Indecision and exhaustion weighed on Ian. “We should get back inside and get out of these cold wet clothes. We need to be ready for the authorities when they get here.”

Covering her eyes with her hands, she nodded, then quickly dropped them. Flashed him a tenuous look. “Thanks, Mr. Brady. I should already have thanked you. You saved my life.”

“I know you like all your guests to call you Jonna so it’s not so formal, but then you keep the formality on your end. How about you call me Ian instead? I’d prefer it, actually.”

Ian and Jonna had spent plenty of evenings sitting near the big roaring fireplace in the common area and talking well into the night along with other guests. Still, she’d kept the formality with him, just like she did with all her customers, calling them by their surnames. It went hand in hand with her insistence that she could take care of herself, her determination to keep her distance from others and not let anyone near. Couldn’t reveal any weakness. He understood that mentality. That’s why when he looked at Jonna, he could see right through the tough veneer she projected to the soft side she hid away—a side he very much wanted to know more about, against his better judgment.

Ian didn’t mind the extra barrier between them. He wasn’t sure why he’d removed it now.

“I like to keep the lines drawn so there’s no confusion.” Her brow wrinkled, and she held his gaze for a bit longer than necessary. “All right, Ian. You saved my life on the beach today. I owe you.”

“I think we’re even, considering you pulled me out of the water before the ocean took me.”

Though she shot him a soft smile, a tempest brewed in her eyes. “You wouldn’t have been caught in those waves if you hadn’t been trying to save me. I don’t want to put any of my guests in danger. And I don’t want them to panic either, so I hope you won’t mention this to them if they didn’t see it for themselves until it’s determined they could also be at risk.”

“I won’t mention it. But once someone from the sheriff’s department arrives the rumors will fly.”

“True. I guess we’ll see what happens.” Her brow furrowed. “If it’s the Shoreline Killer, the guests should be told what happened for their own safety. I’ll let the sheriff decide if the guests should be informed.” She faced him, her caramel-brown eyes taking him in. “While I’m grateful for your help, you should know that normally I can take care of myself. It was a lapse on my part. I’ll be more careful next time.”

She got out of her Terrain.

Ian slowly opened the door and climbed out too. While Jonna might believe she could take care of herself, all that tactical training and situational awareness could only go so far when a vendetta became personal. Ian had learned that the hard way.

He didn’t doubt her capabilities, but everyone needed someone to watch their back now and then.

Especially if the man who thought he’d killed her in Florida had come for her again.

Now he better understood Uncle Gil’s directive that he should hang around to watch over her without letting her know he was her secret bodyguard.

TWO

Jonna hadn’t missed Ian’s skill in taking the man down. He’d been ready to march the man right up the beach and call the authorities—she’d seen it in the determined stance of his shoulders and the resolve on his rugged features. And he’d nearly succeeded. Did he have a military background?

But the ocean had had different plans for both men, tossing them like they were nothing more than driftwood. Fear for Ian’s life had corded her neck. She couldn’t let the ocean take him, and had willingly risked her own life to pull him out before it was too late. Nothing heroic on her part—just a balancing of the scales. She owed him for saving her. He hadn’t hesitated going after the guy to protect her, and without his quick action, she might be dead now.

She needed to be more alert. More prepared. From now on, she’d jog with her Sig, Max, like she should have to begin with. In fact, she’d take Max everywhere.

Aware Ian studied her, Jonna led him to the door that connected her garage to the main lodge, hoping she could escape to her own private cabin on the south side of the structure without encountering her guests. A short enclosed walkway connected the cabin to the lodge, for which she was grateful, especially on an occasion like this when she was chilled to the bone, but she wished they would have connected the garage to her cabin as well. To enter through her private entrance outside the lodge, she’d have to go out into the storm again.

Hands trembling, she accidentally dropped her keys on the concrete floor.

Ian snatched them up, beating her to it, and handed them over. Their fingers brushed.

His blue eyes had grown dark and piercing, more gray like the storm outside. “Are you okay?”

The intensity of his gaze unsettled her and she hesitated before responding. “As soon as I get out of these wet clothes I’ll be better.”

“Same here. Let’s meet in the common area after we change,” he said. “We can wait for the sheriff’s department together.”

She nodded her agreement. “The deputy in the Windsurf Substation can get here faster than someone coming from the county sheriff’s department, which is just under an hour away, even if the storm slows him down a little. Unless he’s assisting someone else, which could very well be the case in this weather.”

Ian on her heels, she hurried through the door, wanting to retreat before he could see just how the incident on the beach had shaken her. The adrenaline was beginning to crash. Not good. She had to hold it together for a few more hours.

Inside the lodge, she could see her guests clinging to big mugs of coffee or hot chocolate and enjoying baked goods. Her employees often baked up muffins, or they purchased breakfast foods from the restaurant next door to the lodge for those guests who didn’t want to venture out into the storm to eat at the restaurant for a bigger menu.

Everyone was focused on the panoramic windows overlooking the storm’s wrath and nature’s spectacular display.

Good, she could slip away and gather her composure.

Before she turned the corner that led to the short walkway to her cabin, Ian touched her arm. She hesitated, then slowed but kept her back to him. Couldn’t he just go to his room and change? Leave her be?

“Someone just tried to kill you. Be careful, Jonna. I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t expect me to find an attacker in my room, do you?” She’d teased, but the possibility corded her throat with a measure of fear.

Ridiculous. She shrugged off the apprehension.

“I could check it for you first.” His voice held genuine concern.

If only that didn’t warm her to her toes. She turned to face him and tossed him an easy smile, hoping she could hide her fear. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can—”

“I know. You can take care of yourself.”

He’d finished the sentence for her, but she read all too easily the doubt in his searching blue eyes. And what he didn’t say.

The guy had gotten away. If he had targeted her specifically, he could come back and attack again at any time. Who was he? Was it the Shoreline Killer? Or maybe the man who’d shot and left her for dead in Miami?