Page 28 of Holding Ground

I shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“She shouldn’t be harassing the guests. She knows that.”

I look over as he takes a pull from his beer. There’s enough of a moon tonight that I track the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. I’m quick to look away because the sight of it stirs something in me I don’t want to feel toward this man.

“Whatever you prefer.”

I really don’t mind helping Baylor with her hair. Though I don’t know the details, I’m pretty sure at this point that Baylor doesn’t have a mother in her life. Though my situation was different—when I was sent to live with my dad, he had Molly, which meant I had a new mom—my heart goes out to the little girl.

We’re both quiet again, so I take a sip of my wine, enjoying the sensation of the sharp edges of my thoughts becoming a little duller.

I finally met Elliott’s uncle, who rented me the bunkie, in town this week. I don’t really know the dynamic between them, but I gather that Roy must be a kind of father figure to Elliott for one reason or another. He was a nice man—warm, conversational, not quick to judge. It makes me question how the two of them can possibly be related.

“I used to think it didn’t matter that much that Baylor doesn’t have a mother in her life, but her starting school seems to have put a spotlight on the gaps that were hiding in the shadows. My inability to do her hair being just one of them.”

He offers no explanation as to why Baylor’s mother isn’t around, and I don’t ask. It’s none of my business.

“I told her most guys can’t do hair because of their big hands, so your reputation as number one dad is still intact.”

His low chuckle echoes across the lake, and I turn my head in his direction. He’s already looking at me. I can’t make out his deep-blue eyes in the darkness, but the intensity of his gaze tells me he’s thinking about something really hard right now.

“I wasn’t trying to get one over on you with my question about the verbiage in your proposal last night.”

Is this a guilt confession? From the Elliott Mercer?

“Okay.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay.”

He blows out a breath and takes another pull from his beer. “Look at it from my perspective. You roll into town with all these great promises of how this development is going to boost our community. Do you think other small towns like ours haven’t heard the same before, only to be completely taken over by developers who decide it’s the next up-and-coming hot spot? Either for people who want to escape the city on the weekends or to build a new sleeper community? Inevitably, what ends up happening is the original residents get mostly pushed out, and it becomes a cookie-cutter version of every other small town that’s been bulldozed.”

“Like I said at the meeting, my firm has no interest in doing anything like that.” I bring my knees up to my chest, securing the blanket tighter.

“Development firms generally have an interest in making money.”

I put up my hand. “Look, I understand why you’re wary, but just know that I would never stand up in front of an entire town and lie to them. You have my word.”

His eyes remain on me for a beat until I fidget with my wineglass. “Is your word worth something?”

Somehow, I hold back my irritation. “It’s worth everything.”

Elliott nods reluctantly. “Guess we’ll see.”

“Guess so.”

I pull the blanket off my lap and stand, having had enough. He says nothing as I make my way back down the dock. When I reach the bottom, I turn around. “Elliott, send Baylor anytime to get her hair done. I really don’t mind.”

He leans over the side of the lounger to look at me, presses his lips together, and nods.

That’s as good as I’m going to get out of him, so I turn and make my way back to the bunkie.

Once I’m inside, I sit on the bed with my laptop and pull up a search engine, then start typing.

Tanya Eaton.

I stare at my biological mother’s name, cursor flashing beside the last letter like a warning. If you do this, there is no turning back.