Hope Harbor

By Jill Sanders

When Eve inherits the family business, Candlewood Inn, she leaves her controlling ex and her job in Seattle behind to head to her childhood home on a small island on the Canadian border. She arrives to find that her family is in an uproar over her grandfather’s very legal dying wishes. After all, the group of sniveling babies had been livi

• Language: English
• Publisher: Idealist LLC
• Release date: Apr 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781945100178

Jill Sanders

Jill Sanders is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Pride series, Secret series, West series, Grayton series, Lucky series, and Silver Cove romance novels. She continues to lure new readers in with her sweet and sexy stories. Her work is available in every English-speaking country and in audiobook form, and her books have been translated into several languages. Born as an identical twin in a large family, Sanders was raised in the Pacific Northwest and later relocated to Colorado for college and a successful IT career before discovering her talent as a writer. She now makes her home along the Emerald Coast in Florida, where she enjoys the beach, hiking, swimming, wine tasting, and—of course—writing. You can connect with Sanders on Facebook at http://fb.com/JillSandersBooks, on Twitter @JillMSanders, and on her website at http://JillSanders.com.

Book preview

1

A midnight caller

Eve was once again standing in a boring employee meeting. She felt locked in the never-ending torture as she leaned against the wall of the cramped boardroom in one of the highest buildings in Seattle. She switched her weight from foot to foot occasionally, because she’d just had to wear her new sexy black heels that day. It was a silent stab against her ex, Brent, who was running the meeting and droning on and on about sales numbers being down. Brent had hated it when she’d worn heels, which would make her a few inches taller than his five-seven frame.

The man had charmed her years ago with his sophisticated sweep of blond hair, those crystal eyes, and the little dimple in his chin. He’d been born a smooth talker into a large family of them.

He only dressed in the finest business suits and had custom-made clothing for everything else.

Glancing around the room, she realized that every butt sitting in those expensive cushioned chairs made twice what she did now, and probably would ever make, at Morgan Stein Marketing Firm.

The job had been one of Eve’s first after getting her Bachelor of Science in marketing from the University of Washington.

She’d started her job and had fallen for Brent Stein, son of the business owners, Morgan and Ewan Stein, quickly.

Marrying him within that first year of knowing him had been a mistake she’d fixed by divorcing him nine short months later. Brent had shown signs of being controlling when they’d dated, but she’d been so blinded by all the wining and dining, she’d overlooked them. Being the son of the owner of one of Seattle’s largest marketing businesses had its perks. Of course, she’d gladly signed the prenup his parents had demanded of her. She was in love and nothing else mattered. Brent was, so she’d thought, the perfect man.

Growing up, she’d been taught to never rely on anyone for anything. She should have listened to those lessons after leaving home shortly after graduating high school.

Now, however, three short months after their divorce was finalized, she was still struggling with Brent, who, it seemed, was having second thoughts after signing the divorce papers her grandfather’s lawyer had drawn up.

She should have put in her resignation the day she’d handed him the divorce papers, but she’d needed the income and didn’t really want to update her resume. Besides, moving out of the massive three-thousand-square-foot mansion they’d lived in together and renting the studio apartment she now called home had been expensive.

So, she’d stuck with her job at the firm and dreamed of the day she could break free from the Stein’s clutches. She knew that, because of her and Brent’s past, she was sliding downhill at the firm. That first week after the divorce was legalized, she’d been moved out of the cushy office that overlooked Seattle’s sound and moved into a small cubicle where she shared her space with a temp who only worked two days a week.

Still, they hadn’t cut her paycheck, so she hadn’t minded that much. She did everything in her power to annoy Brent when she could without crossing the line, such as wearing heels or calling him Mr. Stein. He hated being called that because he didn’t like to be associated with his father, a fact that he had confided in her shortly after they had started dating.

That is all, Brent finished, getting her attention again. Sighing, she moved towards the door, eager to get off her feet.

Eve, would you mind waiting? Brent called out to the room. Every eye turned to her as the room grew silent.

Sure. She sighed and shifted her sore feet again. She’d been dreaming of sitting for the next few hours, since she’d been working on a few projects with approaching deadlines when Brent had called the meeting.

Brent followed the last person to leave the meeting room and shut the door behind them. To get under his skin, she remained standing as he stopped directly in front of her.

It worked. His eyes narrowed slightly, and she could tell he was agitated at her height.

He was still handsome as sin, like a young Brad Pitt, with his sandy blond hair, silvery eyes, and chiseled chin. But shortly after their divorce he’d turned soft, losing what little muscle mass he had. Not that he was fat; he was too small of a man to be considered fat. He just wasn’t as… firm as he had been when they’d been dating. Was it all in her head since her views on him had changed?

You wanted something, Mr. Stein? she asked, innocently. His eyes narrowed further as he motioned for her to take a seat.

She held in a groan of appreciation as she finally got off her feet. She held herself firm, crossing her hands in front of her, laying them on the smooth rich wood of the massive meeting table as she waited for him to explain what he wanted from her.

He sat directly next to her. Instead of turning her body towards him, she twisted her back slightly so that she could give him her attention without fully ignoring him. I was hoping that we could talk about your position at the firm.

Her dark eyebrows shot up. My… position? Her voice was a little shaky. Here it was, the day she’d been dreading. She’d known since the day she filed for divorce that one day she’d be jobless. She’d just hoped it would be after the holidays, a little under five months from now.

I know that getting back together, well, that’s not possible. He reached over and laid his hand over hers. I mean, mother and father have… He sighed and shook his head. Anyway, it’s not possible. But I was hoping that… That is… He cleared his throat. I think we can come to some sort of arrangement. I know you’ve been eyeing Ben’s position, since he’ll be leaving at the end of the month.

She swallowed. Ben Regan was taking a position in Philadelphia, where his wife had been transferred for her government job. Ben had been in charge of online content that went out of the firm, something Eve had a talent with.

The rest of Brent’s words sank in, and she jerked her hands free and stood up suddenly, sending the wheeled chair spinning across the room.

Dream on, she said in a low tone. You know where I stand on us getting back together. She tried to stop the shaking that started every time she thought of being with Brent again.

The man was sexy as sin but one of the most controlling asshats she’d ever met. And since she came from a family of controlling asshats, she had a lot to compare him to.

I’m not talking about getting back together in the sense of what we had in the past. He stood, moving closer to her and once again taking her hands in his. She would have jerked free, but he had her pinned between the wall and the chair now. What I’m proposing is more of a… physical arrangement.

She felt her lunch threaten to surface and jerked her hands free of his. She wrapped them around her waist, desperately trying to hold in what she could of her bubbling stomach.

No. She shook her head and glanced towards the door, dreaming of escaping. It’s not going to happen. Ever, she whispered.

In the next moments, Brent turned, like he had so many times in the past. She’d watched the Jekyll and Hyde show so many times in the past, it had stopped amazing her at how quickly he could go from a kind, caring man to a controlling, manipulative asshat so quickly.

How many times in the past had he turned into a different person than the charming man she’d believed she’d married? Too many to count.

She’d hoped that if she kept him at arm’s length and stuck to the professional environment that he would maintain his façade. Even now, she could see him struggling for control, since they were standing behind large glass walls that looked out towards the main reception area. Joyce was just a few feet away, sitting behind her desk, talking on the phone and glancing up towards them.

Brent swallowed and got himself back under control. I had hoped, he started in a quiet tone, so low that she strained to hear his next words, that you would want to keep your position here.

I do, she answered a little too quickly, which had his smirk returning.

Then you’ll think about my… offer.

No, she answered and raised her chin slightly. Whatever relationship we had in the past, physical or otherwise, stopped that last night when I left. She held her breath, daring him to question which night. Instead, he jerked the chair and pushed it quickly back into its place. The table bounced and jerked when the chair slammed into it.

I told you… How many times do I have to apologize for… things? he spat out.

Since I continue to see you exhibit the same attitude… no number of apologies will do it. We’re just not right for each other. In any capacity. She touched his arm and felt him relax slightly. Now, I have several jobs to… She turned to go.

Eve, I meant what I said, he said, surprising her. You have until the end of today to give me an answer.

She jerked around. You’re seriously going to fire me if I don’t… what? Sleep with you?

Instead of answering, he smirked. We’ll see how much you want this job. You know my stance on all this. You should have never divorced me.

Why did you sign the papers then? She waved her hands towards him and watched his eyes narrow again.

You know why, he ground out.

Because your mother and father told you to, she spat out, not caring at this point who heard her. After all, he was the one who had approached her with the vulgar offer.

You didn’t give me any choice in the matter, he replied.

I didn’t… She laughed. Oh, those are choice words coming from you. She jerked around and yanked open the door.

What’s your answer? he called after her.

Instead of answering, she raised her middle finger and flew him the bird before slamming the door behind her.

Seething, she sat at her desk trying to get her emotions under control. She hadn’t been lying. She had a project that was due in less than an hour and no matter what happened to her career at the firm, she had a reputation to uphold. Shaking the dark thoughts clear, she focused and got back to work.

As usual, she worked an hour later than most of the other employees so that by the time she descended the dozen flights of stairs, she was the last one in the office. She had tucked her new heels into her tote bag and threw it over her shoulder as she stepped outside into the cool night air. Her worn tennis shoes slapped the wet pavement as she made her way home. She pulled her light jacket closer to her, trying to keep her hair and face dry from the late summer rainstorm. Still, the wind whipped it about, so she ducked into a dark doorway and decided that, instead of ordering takeout for dinner, she would find someplace warm to camp out until the rain let up.

Spotting her favorite pizza place at the end of the block, she dashed through the rain, almost getting hit by a taxi as she crossed the street. Yelling at the man, who had obviously not seen her dart in front of him, she stepped into the pizzeria and groaned at the lengthy line and the lack of places to sit in the crowded place.

Could the day get any worse? she thought as she stood in line.

Someone tapped on her shoulder and when she turned around, she held in a groan. Mariam Stein, Brent’s younger sister, stood behind her, dressed in her normal high-class ‘I just worked out’ look. The teenager’s yoga outfit probably cost more than Eve’s monthly rent.

I thought that was you, Mariam said with a smirk. Boy, you look like a drowned rat. She giggled.

Thanks, Eve said between clenched teeth. The girl not only faked naivety, she was vicious at it. How was your workout? she asked, arching her eyebrows.

Mariam looked at her as if she was crazy, causing Eve to motion to the girl’s attire.

Oh. Mariam chuckled. Raul is a slave. She waved her hand and tilted her head. How’s the job hunting going? I heard that Brent had to let you go. Her voice dipped into what could only be described as forged concern.

Eve’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t given Brent an answer, nor had she believed she had needed to. After all, he’d made empty threats in the past and she was sure this one would blow over if she ignored his tantrum.

Oh. Mariam sighed. I’m sorry. I just assumed he had told you. She glanced down at her phone. Oh well. She glanced up. Oops, it looks like I don’t have time to wait for a slice after all. She turned and bumped into the person behind her. Watch it, she told the woman, then turned back to Eve. It was nice catching up with you, Eve, she said as she dashed towards the door. Mariam used Eve’s name as a stab by the simple tone in which she said it, drawing it out as if it was incomplete somehow.

Bitch, the woman who had stood behind Mariam said under her breath when the door shut.

Tell me about it, Eve agreed, and turned back towards the line.

By the time she finished wolfing down two slices of pizza and a Coke, the rain had let up. Walking back to her tiny apartment, she worried that she would have to start looking for a new job. Had Brent been serious? Was he really going to fire her if she didn’t sleep with him?

Eve let herself into her one-room loft, tossed her tote bag down at the door, and pulled off her soaked tennis shoes and jacket.

Glancing around, she wondered once again why she killed herself on a daily basis to live in a hole.

There must be plenty of high-paying jobs out there for someone with her talents. Right?

Hell, half of the people that worked above her didn’t even have a high school diploma, let alone a bachelor’s degree. Of course, most of those were interns and didn’t get paid, but that didn’t stop her from thinking about pulling out her resume and updating it.

Deciding she needed to warm up first, she climbed into a hot shower and stayed there until the water ran cold. Pulling on her favorite fuzzy pajamas, she sat on her sofa bed and clicked away on her laptop, updating her resume as best as she could, hating the task.

A brief time later she was jolted awake when a knock sounded at her door.

She had fallen asleep sitting up, her neck at an odd angle, and now pain spread down her right arm.

She squinted at the clock through the dark and saw that it was a quarter past midnight. Believing she’d dreamed the sound, she set her laptop down and curled up on the sofa bed. Just as she closed her eyes, the knock sounded again.

Groaning, she pulled herself from her warm bed and padded over to the door. Glancing out of the security peek hole, she groaned upon seeing Brent standing outside.

Go home, Brent, she called out through the locked door.

Eve, let me in.

It’s not happening. She leaned her head against the door, feeling a little unstable on her feet from being tired. I gave you my answer at the office. She held in a yawn.

This has nothing to do with my offer, he said.

When he didn’t say anything further, she asked, Then what?

Just let me in. I’d hate to wake your neighbors, he said a little louder.

She thought of the older woman who lived next to her and the nice couple across the hallway and cringed.

Opening her door, she made a jerking motion for him to come in. Five minutes, she warned as he stepped inside.

Jesus, is this were you live? He stepped over a box of her things.

She had yet to unpack, since she was on a month-to-month lease and wasn’t sure she could afford the place for much longer. Besides, she’d been thinking that if Brent fired her, she would move to the country somewhere. Maybe Oregon? Maybe Canada? She didn’t know, but whatever happened, she wouldn’t be able to afford the high rents in Seattle for much longer.

What do you want? she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

The one thing she had going for her was that her fuzzy pajamas were the least sexy thing she owned. They were made for comfort and not sex. Thankfully.

Okay, I lied, he said, turning on her. I was hoping that you had changed your mind. He tilted his head at her. Where did you get those hideous things? he asked, motioning to her pajamas with a frown.

She smiled and glanced down at them. Do you like them? They were a happy divorce day present to myself. She did a little spin, showing him the full effect of the two large bright smiley faces that covered her ass.

He shook his head and moved closer. I meant what I said. I can give you… things. All I ask in return is for things to go back to the way they were.

You mean, physically? she asked, standing her ground.

Yes. His dark eyes ran over her, and she was surprised to see sexual interest behind them. Instead of making her feel desired, as it used to, she felt nothing at all. Whatever she’d once felt for him had died long ago.

Brent, it’s just not going to work. I can’t pretend that we don’t have a past. That you aren’t… you.

His eyes changed, and she braced herself for the fight she knew was coming. Since that night, a little over three months ago, she knew better than to push him too much farther.

I told you, I was under a lot of stress that night. I needed to blow off some steam. He ran his hands through his hair and started pacing in her small apartment. This is just a tiff. You’ll see, I’ve got everything under control again. Dad has officially made me head of the department, finally, and now we don’t have to struggle with money the way we were at the beginning.

Money had been his excuse for pushing her and going too far that night when they’d fought. She’d come home from a long drive that had cleared her head to him sitting on the sofa with two women pleasing him. One had her mouth wrapped around his dick and the other was riding his face. A stack of cash and drugs had been spread all over their coffee table.

Eve hadn’t needed or wanted the big house, the new cars, or the debt. It had all been Brent’s doing, and he’d done it all behind her back, surprising her with the massive debt that he’d accumulated and then blamed on her.

Still, her eyebrows shot up at his use of the word we.

Brent, there is no ‘we,’ anymore. She held her ground. No matter how hot his eyes got, she could never imagine herself with him again. She’d been fooled by him once and wasn’t going to fall for the same tricks again.

He surprised her by laughing and motioning around. You want to live in this rat cage for the rest of your life? Working a meaningless job flipping burgers for minimum wage? He leaned closer to her and suddenly she smelled bourbon on his breath. She knew he only drank the expensive stuff, since she’d had to keep it stocked in their house. Because trust me, darling, with my family’s connections, I can make that happen. His hands moved to her shoulders.

Then, just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, he moved away, causing her to sway slightly.

I’ll give you until the morning to answer me. His eyes ran up and down her in disgust at her attire. If you want your job and all the stipulations, then be at the office on time. If not—he chuckled— good luck trying to get another job in Seattle. He turned and jerked open her door and disappeared through it.

2

Shaken

Eve tried to settle down, but her entire body vibrated with anger after Brent left. After a quick cleaning spree to work off her anger, she sat back down and started working on her laptop once again. By the time the sun was streaking in her small window, she felt she had a halfway decent resume ready.

When her phone rang, she ignored it, thinking it was the office checking on why she was late. But when it rang a second time, she glanced down at the screen and groaned when she saw her mother’s number.

Was it possible that her mother had already heard the news that she was jobless? Her family never gave up a chance to rub her lack of success in her face, even though they themselves lived off the kindness of Eve’s grandfather, Reggie, who owned and ran the very successful upstate resort Candlewood Inn, which had been in the family for several generations now.

When her parents had married, her mother had insisted on keeping the Candlewood name. Her father hadn’t argued. The young couple had moved into the inn shortly before Eve had been born and had yet to leave.

Along with her parents, her aunts, uncles, and her cousins all lived on the grounds, mooching off the wealth and success of the inn, using it as their very own private club and income, even though she knew firsthand that none of them lifted a finger to ensure the success of the business.

If word had already reached them that Brent had fired her, she was doomed to suffer the nagging and the many ‘I told you so’s’ from each and every one of them.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back and answered the call.

Hello, Mother, she said, trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.

She knew instantly that something was off when her mother sniffled in reply.

Evelyn, Grandpa’s dead, her mother blurted out.

Eve jerked up, sitting ramrod straight as her eyes flew open, unseeing.

Grandpa Reggie. The only family member in her life who had believed in her. The only person who had encouraged her to go to school, to pursue her own dreams. One of the only ones who had loved her was dead.

Reach for the moon my girl and if you miss, grab hold of a star instead. He’d said those words to her more times then she could count.

Wh… what? She shook her head, unable to accept what her mother was saying.

Your grandfather passed away last night in his sleep, she reiterated.

Eve closed her eyes as they started to burn. How?

We don’t know. It must have been his heart. He was just… gone, her mother said with a soft cry. I found him… he hadn’t come down for his morning coffee and I went to check on him and… She could hear her mother shift the phone. You have to come home.

Yes. Eve stood up, suddenly, glancing around for her luggage and clean clothes. I’ll drive up.

We’ll expect you later. Her mother hung up without saying goodbye. She didn’t hold it against her, since she knew that she probably had a lot on her mind. Hell, Eve was so overwhelmed by the news, it took her more than two hours to pack and throw what she could into the used car she’d bought a few days after the divorce was finalized.

She drove the almost four hours up Puget Sound towards Orcas Island, a trip Eve didn’t make often. In the past nine years since she’d left home, she’d only been back twice. She’d dreaded the visit completely, except for the time she’d spend with her grandfather.

By the time she boarded the ferry to the island, her mother had called her more than a half dozen times to check on her status.

Orcas Island was the second largest of the topmost islands near the Canadian border. Even though it was second in size, there were fewer than five thousand people living on the island year-round.

Most of the tourists to the island were a direct result of her grandfather’s inn, that and the large preserve and state park that ate up most of the island.

She knew the roads from the ferry docks to the inn like the back of her hand. Still, it had been years since she’d been home and she was a little surprised at all the potholes she had to swerve to avoid. Had there been this many when she’d lived here?

She drove through Hope Harbor. The inn was less than two miles out of the small town she’d grown up in.

The town looked the same, with its old main street that consisted of five buildings and one stop sign. There was a new pizzeria and bank at the corner, along with a new gas station and bait shop.

Still, not much had changed. Passing the school and library, she was almost to the last turnoff towards the inn when something caught her eye, causing her to slow the car down. That something was a man. To be more exact, a very sexy man.

The guy was standing in the driveway of her friend Holly’s old log house. She knew that Holly’s parents had sold the place a few years back, after her father’s death.

What had caused her to slow down and gawk was the fact that the man had removed his shirt and was full of some of the sexiest muscles she had ever witnessed. The sun made his skin glow and glisten from the sheen of sweat dripping down his back.

He was standing in front of a table saw, cutting a very long piece of wood. His legs were spread wide as he concentrated on his work. A tool belt hung low on his hips, pulling his jeans down far enough that she got a view of his hip bones. She watched the muscles in his arms and shoulders work as he pushed the board through the sharp blade with ease and skill.

When he turned towards her after he was done cutting the piece of wood, she marveled at his very impressive six-pack.

Her mouth watered at the sight. How long had it been since she’d felt a stir like this? Long before she’d married Brent. With him, the sexual tension had died quickly, if there had ever really been any. She believed that even in that arena, he’d fooled her.

Swallowing the desire, she glanced up and saw she was about to miss her turn. She slammed on her brakes, and gravel spit up around her as she skidded to a stop. Putting the car in reverse, she spotted the man watching her. He was less than ten feet away from her, and she thought that she could see him smiling at her as she pulled into the long drive of the inn.

Damn. She sighed.

Okay, sexy dream guy, get out of my head, she said to herself as she drove up the bumpy lane. When the large white four-story inn came into view, she felt her heart skip at the thought of her grandfather not being there to greet her.

Passing the last of the large wooden carved signs that read Candlewood Inn in gold lettering, she parked in the main parking lot and took a moment to collect her thoughts. She knew how to put on a mask, to shield herself from the horrors that her family usually brought upon her the moment she stepped foot in her old home.

Even though she had grown up living in an inn, it hadn’t changed her life in the least. Her mother and father had lived in a three-room suite on the top floor, just down the hallway from her grandfather’s own suite. Actually, while growing up, the entire top floor had been dedicated to her family. When her great-grandfather had the place built, his large family had taken over the entire west wing of the inn.

Eve didn’t know if most of her family members were still living in the inn, since she limited her phone calls to her mother and father to five minutes each. Her father usually called on her birthday or holidays and said a few words to her, while her mother usually called her to nag or complain about something and never asked Eve how she was doing.

Gathering her strength, she climbed out of the car, pulling her large suitcase with her. Of course, Timothy, one of the inn’s oldest employees was there to help her carry her luggage in.

Thanks, Timothy. She gave the older man a hug.

I’m so sorry, miss, for your loss, he said,