That seemed a cop-out, since Carole had asked her to keep an eye on the place.
She forced a smile and approached the dog’s owner. “Hi. Good evening. You must be renting the place from Carole. I’m McKenzie Shaw. I live next door. Rika, that dog you’re playing catch with, is mine.”
The man turned around and the pleasant evening around her seemed to go dark and still as she took in sun-streaked brown hair, steely blue eyes, chiseled jaw.
Her stomach dropped as if somebody had just picked her up and tossed her into the cold lake.
Ben Kilpatrick. Here. Staying in the house next door.
So much for her lovely evening at home.
FOR A MOMENT, McKenzie could only stare at the man. It took her another minute before she could find her voice.
“This must be a record,” she finally said. “The Haven Point rumor mill actually nailed it, for once. You are back.”
Her sister was usually right but why did she have to be right about this, darn it?
Why was he here? She highly doubted he had come to make amends for all he had done. Judging by history, he was probably here to cause more trouble.
“Hello, McKenzie. Long time, and all that.”
He gave her an almost-smile, though she didn’t miss the rather bleak look in his blue eyes that made her suspect the rumor mill had something else right—Ben Kilpatrick wasn’t any happier to find himself back in Haven Point than she was.
Even with the dark shadows in his gaze, he was far more gorgeous than he’d been when she was a girl. That chiseled jaw was more, well, chisel-y, his eyes seemed more intense, his features masculine and strong.
The last time she had seen Ben in person had been at Lily’s funeral. The sudden realization sent a wave of remembered grief washing over her for her friend and his sister, one of the most courageous people she had ever met. Lily had lost her battle against cystic fibrosis the year they both turned thirteen.
She pushed away the echoing sadness. Lily had been gone a long time. As much as she might despise Ben, McKenzie could never fault him for his care of his sister. In all the years she had been friends with Lily, she had never seen Ben be anything but loving and kind with her, patient under very difficult circumstances.
She had a long list of other sins she could lay at his feet, however, starting with the abrupt way he had left town right after the funeral and taken her idealism and trust with him.
“I’d like to say I’m happy to see you, but I’ve never been a very good liar.”
“Oh, ouch.”
His mouth quirked up in a smile and he appeared more amused than offended.
She had a hundred accusations she wanted to hurl at him, years of helpless frustration as she watched her town die inch by inch.
Instead, she focused on what was really the least important of them all.
“Is this your dog?” she demanded.
“No. Okay. Yes. Sort of. This is Hondo.”
The dog’s tongue lolled out and he appeared to beam broadly at his name.
“Like the John Wayne movie?”
“I suppose. I didn’t name him.”
The dog nosed her hand in a friendly way but McKenzie only frowned, refusing to be charmed by anything associated with Ben. Unlike Rika, she had a few standards. “Is he your dog or isn’t he?”
“Technically, he’s mine, I guess. Until a few weeks ago, he belonged to a good friend. He died unexpectedly but stipulated in his will that I take him. I’m not sure why. It’s a temporary situation. Until I can find him a good home, I guess we’re stuck with each other.”
Naturally, he wouldn’t want to take any unexpected responsibility that had been thrust on him. Why ruin a perfect track record? It was a wonder he bothered to feed and water the dog, if his treatment of the property he inherited in Haven Point was any indication.
“He’s a beautiful dog. Unfortunately, the owner doesn’t allow pets at the vacation rental. I’m sure the property management company informed you of that fact. As usual, you probably think the rules don’t apply to you, right?”
His eyes widened a little at the direct frontal attack. Okay, she hadn’t meant to add that last bit. She probably should have tried for politeness first but the hostility had sort of slipped out.
“Actually,” he answered, a little stiffly, “when I was looking for a place to stay with Hondo while I’m in town, Carole was kind enough to make an exception to the no-pets rule.”
McKenzie could just bet Carole would make an exception. She had always liked the other woman and considered them good friends for the short time Carole had been her next-door neighbor before the divorce, but she knew Carole was eager to add another husband to her collection—even one several years younger than she. A man with an amazingly attractive portfolio would only sweeten the deal.
Not to mention that sinful mouth and eyes the same deep blue as Lake Haven on a calm August morning.
She frowned. She didn’t care about his sinful mouth, for heaven’s sake.
“I’ve discovered in the few weeks since Hondo here came to live with me that he isn’t crazy about hotels—and, quite frankly, vice versa. Since I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town, a vacation rental seemed the most logical option. The dock was definitely a bonus.”
“I saw the boat out front when I came home. It’s a Killy, isn’t it?”
His family’s boatworks had been famous across the world for making beautiful wooden boats. Many older models were considered classics and were highly sought by collectors for their tight construction and classic lines. In only a few days, Haven Point would be hosting its annual wooden boat festival as part of Lake Haven Days, when collectors came from all over to share their love for the elegantly crafted boats.
“Yes. The Delphine, named for my grandmother.”
The Delphine was one of the most expensive and hard-to-find of the older Killy models, she knew. While McKenzie wasn’t exactly an expert on the boatworks and its history or products, she had chaired the Lake Haven Days committee three years in a row at the request of the previous city administration and had come to know more than she ever expected about wooden boats and the passionate fans who adored them.
She never would have expected Ben to be the sentimental type, especially considering he was the one who made sure Kilpatrick Boatworks would never manufacture another Killy.
In one single afternoon five years earlier, he dealt a crippling blow to the town and his family’s legacy when he closed the factory and put two hundred people out of work.
She curled her fingers into fists at the reminder. How dare he show up in the town he had irreparably damaged, towing behind him bold and painful evidence of all he had taken away? Was he trying to rub everybody’s faces in it?
Grrr.
The words he had spoken suddenly penetrated the fog of anger around her.
I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town.
Was he talking days, weeks, months? All of it spent next door to her?
How would she endure it, when some heretofore unknown violent part of her wished she could drag him behind his