Holidays at Crescent Cove Read Online Free PDF

deserves. Her index finger trailed across the titles, Erin Brockovich , My Cousin Vinny, lingered on Inherit the Wind before moving on. to 12 Angry Men. She’d had enough anger for one day.
    Witness for the Prosecution. No not that one; too close to home. The Firm. Definitely not that one. Legally Blonde. That was tempting. Leave it to Reese Witherspoon to put the legal system right and do it wearing pink.
    But not today; today she wanted . . . Ah, To Kill a Mockingbird . Now there was a lawyer who was willing to risk everything for justice, for truth.
    She slipped the DVD into the player. Poured another cup of coffee and curled up on the couch to push Jake McGuire and Harrison Cavanaugh from her mind and spend the afternoon with Atticus Finch.
    â€œ H OW WAS YOUR brunch?” Seamus rolled the r as he always did when he was feeling smug or had too much to drink. Today Jake was pretty sure it was smugness. It was the eyebrows that gave him away.
    â€œFine.”
    â€œAh, and it was that good, was it? So why are you home before midnight?”
    â€œCut the crap, Dad. It was breakfast and it ended up being just me, Nick, and Connor.”
    â€œWhat? Didn’t you mind your manners?”
    â€œYes. She got upset over some law case.”
    â€œAnd you didn’t do anything to make her forget it?”
    â€œJust leave it, Dad.”
    â€œI’m just saying.”
    â€œYou’ve been pushing me at Grace since she volunteered to help with the designation petition—”
    â€œShe’s a lovely girl, you do well together. And might I remind you, you’re not getting any younger.”
    Jake clapped both hands to his head in frustration. “I know that. I like her, she might even like me . . . a little. But I’d like to handle this in my own way.”
    â€œBut you don’t, son. I’ve been watching you all winter and summer long. First it was that schoolteacher up at the Eldon School. Nice girl. Then pfsst. No more of her. Then that cutie from the sun and surf store on the boardwalk. I saw her today with a good-looking guy . . . younger than you.”
    â€œI’m only thirty-eight.”
    â€œGetting close to forty.”
    â€œWhich is a good reason not to get involved with a twenty-two-year-old.”
    â€œHell, even Nick Prescott got himself a wife.”
    â€œYeah, after two decades of waiting. I don’t really plan to wait that long. So stop nagging. You sound like one of those pushy mothers who—” He knew the moment it came out of his mouth it was the wrong thing to say. “Sorry, Dad.”
    Seamus waved him away. “Suit yourself,” he mumbled as he walked away. A minute later Jake heard his bedroom door close and mentally kicked himself. His dad missed his mom more than he let on. All that flirting with the widows was just a mask.
    And the worst part of it was that his mother wasn’t even dead. Though it might be better if she was. God forgive him for the thought.
    Jake grabbed a soda out of the fridge and went out to his woodworking shop to sweat for a few hours of hard labor, stripping the ornate antique French mantel he’d scored at an estate sale.
    If restored properly, it would be worth ten times what he paid for it, but it would take an appreciative buyer with deep pockets. It seemed Jake was always in need of money, and he would never look askance at a bit of appreciation.
    Which brought his mind right back to Grace Holcombe. And the way she looked in that little robe thing. Had she been that shocked to see him? Embarrassed? Or just annoyed? It was hard to tell with Grace. She played her cards close to her chest. Which made him think of that robe again. And he decided then and there that he was going to stop being an ass and ask the woman on a date.
    He’d call her and just ask. Tonight. Or maybe tomorrow, or . . .
    E VEN A TTICUS F INCH couldn’t keep Grace’s mind from curving