Page 10 of Holding Ground

I open my car door, slide inside, and slam the door shut. Glancing at the clock, I have some time to kill before I’m due to show up at the rental and get the keys from the owner. I figure I’ll drive around Echo Lake and get the lay of the land. I watch Elliott stalk down the sidewalk and pull something out of the cab of a beat-up old pickup truck as I pull away from the curb.

God, what a jerk. How does he just assume that I’m here trying to pull one over on people? He knows nothing about me or the kind of person I am. It’s expected that there will be some opposition to a developer coming into town, but to outright accuse me of being what? A grifter, a liar, not having sound business ethics? Who the hell does he think he is?

If I never see that man again, it’ll be too soon.

CHAPTER

FOUR

Elliott

Ipack the ground beef into hamburger patties, the sound of my hands slapping against the meat echoing louder than usual through the kitchen.

When the Thermos Crew mentioned that a developer was coming to town, I pictured some millennial in a suit. That or some overeager guy in his twenties, dressed to impress and trying to make a name for himself. Not someone like Emelia—gorgeous and obviously able to give as good as she gets.

The truth is that if I’d encountered her anywhere else, I would’ve had a wholly different reaction. She’s gorgeous with her long dark hair and green eyes with a burst of hazel in the middle. But the pull I felt died knowing she’s here to upend our small town and try to turn it into something it’s not.

I set the last of the patties on the plate and wash my hands, then pop my head into Baylor’s room to make sure she’s okay. She’s quietly coloring on the floor of her bedroom, and she doesn’t notice me, so I back away from the door and head out onto the back deck to start the grill.

When I step back into the house, there’s a knock at the door.

Baylor will be thrilled Roy changed his mind and decided to join us for dinner.

I swing the door open with a smile, ready to greet him, but it dies on my lips.

It’s her.

“What are you doing here?”

Her shoulders slump, and she tilts her head toward the sky. “Seriously?”

I cross my arms. “If you’re here to try to convince me that whatever you’re peddling is a good idea⁠—”

Emelia shoves a piece of paper into my chest. “Believe me, I’d hoped never to cross paths again. I’m here because of this.” She nods at the paper her hand has plastered to my chest.

With a frown, I snatch it up and hold it out to read. It’s an email confirmation sent to an Emelia Greene for the bunkie on the back of my lot. Roy must’ve sent it to her after they spoke.

“No way.” I hold the paper back out to her.

“Yes way. We have an agreement.” Her voice is perfectly level, but her jaw is so clenched, her teeth must be aching.

Neither of us wants this.

“I didn’t agree to anything.”

She rips the paper from my hand and points at it. “Well, who is Roy?”

I press my lips together before I answer. “My uncle.”

“Does he have the authority to arrange the rentals for you?” She pins me with a stare I imagine she’s used a lot over the years of doing her job. It’s designed to make you wither, but I don’t wilt.

Unfortunately, I also refuse to lie. My jaw sets before I bite out, “Yes.”

“Great. You can show me to where I’m staying then.”

I push a hand through my hair. “I’m sure you’re as eager to stay here as I am to have you. Why don’t you call the Stillwater Inn and see if they have a room for you?”

“I already tried that before I booked here. There’s no room. And certainly not for three months in duration.”