Silence hung in the air for a moment as they both absorbed the cold, harsh fact of the matter. True love was a beautiful thing, but it wasn’t going to get the fishing cannery up and running, nor would it put money in the town’s coffers. Although things weren’t dire at the moment, a few years down the road it might all fall apart. Something needed to be done to turn things around, and he didn’t think Operation Love was it.
Declan jerked his chin in the direction of the two women and the welcome wagon that had encircled them. “They’re headed to the Moose. You going over? From the sounds of it, you could use a heavy dose of caffeine to pick up your mood.”
The Moose Café, one of the town’s most popular eating establishments, was owned by Boone’s younger brother, Cameron. Situated in the center of town on Jarvis Street, directly across from the sheriff’s office, it was a hangout for the locals. A few times a week Cameron brought in musicians who performed live for the customers. Other afternoons he allowed local artists to set up their painting and sculptures for sale. Although he himself wasn’t a big coffee drinker, folks raved about all the varieties of coffee Cameron served up. From what he’d heard, he’d been branching out by offering lunch specials and baked goods. His brother had told him a few days ago that he was expecting new hires today, two women who were flying in to Anchorage from the Lower 48. Clearly, Grace was one of Cameron’s new employees.
Somehow the image of Grace serving up java drinks, sourdough bread and cherry chocolate-chip cookies did not compute. He didn’t know why, but the image struck him as off somehow. She seemed like the type of woman who dressed up to go work and always had a purse to match her outfit. He shook his head, wanting to free himself of any more thoughts of Grace. It wasn’t as if he knew her, after all. He was merely speculating.
“No, thanks. I need to get back to the office.” With a nod in Declan’s direction, he turned on his heel and began walking back down the pier, right past Grace and her crowd of admirers. As he walked past, he couldn’t help but look in her direction. She was staring right at him, a smile illuminating her face. She cheerily waved in his direction and called out to him. “See you later, Sheriff.”
He raised his hand and waved back, stifling a mad urge to stick around and get to know Grace better. Something about the way she’d grinned at him warmed his insides. Even though he’d been testy with her earlier about her heels, she seemed willing to put her best foot forward. For the life of him he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so conflicted about something. Or so intrigued. Even though his legs were carrying him in the opposite direction of Love’s prettiest new resident, something inside him urged him to turn back around and stay a while.
As he settled himself behind the wheel of his cruiser, a dozen different questions were bouncing around his mind. Where had Grace come from in the Lower 48? Everything about her screamed city girl. Perhaps Boston, Chicago, Los Angeles or New York? Was it an adventurous spirit that had compelled her to relocate to Love? Or an open heart?
As images of Grace danced in his head, he couldn’t help but remember that the last time he’d fallen for a city girl, his heart had been handed to him on a platter.
* * *
Welcome to Love. The prettied-up sign with the crooked letters hanging above the doorway of the Moose Café had made Grace want to shout with laughter. The establishment was as girly as a men’s locker room. It was dark and dreary, all grays and browns, exuding an indisputably masculine vibe. Antlers hung on the wall, along with a dartboard and a retro framed print of a grizzly bear. Clearly, someone had wanted to impress the ladies by putting a few feminine touches in place. “Oh, this is lovely,” Sophie had gushed. She’d raised her hands over her mouth, green eyes moist with emotion. “This is such a sweet gesture.”
Sophie was right. It was thoughtful. And sweet. She wasn’t used to either. As a journalist living in a metropolitan area, she operated in a high-pressure world. Competition among her peers for stories was fairly cutthroat. Although she got along well enough with her boss at the Tribune, Tony wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type. He’d never so much as given her a “thatta girl” or a thumbs-up. But that was all about to change, she thought. After she wrote this series on Love, Alaska, he’d be falling all over himself to pat her on the back. She might even get a promotion and a raise out of this, if she knocked it out of the park. Thoughts of a corner office with a view of Central Park danced in her head. She might even be eligible for a journalism award.
Within moments of entering the café the delicious aroma of baked goods wafted in the air. Grace lifted her nose in the air and sniffed. Cinnamon buns? Cookies? Whatever it was, the scent caused her stomach to grumble and her mouth to water. It had been hours since she’d eaten anything other than a stale bag of pretzels and a few handfuls of popcorn. She was famished.
“Ladies. Sophie and Grace, I presume.” She saw Sophie’s eyes widen as her jaw swung open. Grace followed her gaze until the trail stopped cold. The owner of the voice was tall and lean with chocolate-brown hair. Green-hazel eyes and a winning smile completed the picture.
What in the world was in the water supply in this town? No wonder women were giving up their lives in the 48 contiguous states and making tracks to Love. There were more hunky men in this fishing village than she’d seen in Manhattan in the past few weeks together. Operation Love should be renamed Operation Hotties.
“Hello. I’m Cameron Prescott, the owner. And your new boss.” Prescott? As in related to the mind-bogglingly handsome Sheriff Boone Prescott? She studied him for a moment, recognizing the similarities between the two men. Although Cameron was Alaskan eye candy, the sight of him didn’t pack the same sucker punch that his brother had. That was a good thing, since she was going to be working for Cameron at the Moose Café.
In all the hubbub, how could she have forgotten? She’d taken a job as a barista. As part of her cover story it had been important to find a paying job in town. It was also a great way to schmooze with the townsfolk and get a feel for Love. Since her skills were pretty much limited to writing for a living, her options had been slim to none. Tony had found this barista gig on an Alaskan job search website and sent in an application on her behalf. Lo and behold, she’d been hired. She stuck out her hand to Cameron, only to find herself being enveloped in a huge bear hug. Not knowing what else to do, she clung on for dear life. As soon as he let go of her, he reached for Sophie, giving her the same enthusiastic greeting. When he let go he stood back and rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait till tomorrow. This place should be pretty packed considering it’s Cappuccino Tuesday—a free baked good with any cappuccino order. It’s turning out to be a really great promotion. Hey,” he said, his expression full of excitement. “Why don’t I give you a quick tour of the kitchen? I promise to feed you afterward.”
Grace groaned on the inside. This job was definitely going to be challenging, considering she’d only managed a two-week stint at Java Giant before she’d quit after realizing it was too stressful. Although the smell of coffee drifting through the air had been an incentive, she’d never gotten the hang of whipping up the drinks and serving the actual customers. She grimaced as memories of disgruntled, loud customers came into sharp focus. These coffee-holics took their drinks seriously, and they didn’t take too kindly to inexperienced baristas messing up orders.
Fake it till you make it. That had always been her motto, and there was no need to switch things up at the moment. It had gotten her through some of the most difficult moments of her life. Gritting her teeth and smiling through the pain had served her well. There was no reason to switch things up now.
* * *
When the door to Boone’s office crashed open without warning, his Alaskan malamute, Kona, emitted a low, menacing growl. The hairs stood up on the back of Kona’s spine as the dog raced over to investigate.
“Hey, Kona. Good girl,” Declan crooned as he nuzzled Kona’s face and lavished her with the love and attention she craved. Within seconds Kona was wagging