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But he’d just finished the platform when a knock sounded on the shed door and he could smell the expensive cologne wafting on the air, announcing the man’s presence. Glancing up, he saw Sebastian, scanning the exterior of the shed. He ran a hand along the wooden door frame and Oliver had to resist an irrational urge to tell the guy not to touch anything.
Notanything.
“Hey,” he said, setting his hammer down and wiping his dusty hands on the front of his jeans. “Can I help you with something?”
“Told you I’d stop by,” Sebastian said, entering and still scanning. His suit looked a little too tight, stretched across his muscular upper body, and the pants were slim-fit and too short, in Oliver’s opinion, exposing bare ankles above his leather shoes.
Maybe that was the style these days. He wouldn’t know, not having worn a suit since...the funeral.
He hadn’t expected the visit so soon, but may as well give the dude his abbreviated tour and send him on his way. “Let me show you around,” he said, leading the way outside.
Sebastian followed close behind as they walked across the overgrown grassy field toward the lighthouse. “Actually, could we start with the house?”
Oliver’s gut twisted as he turned to face him. What the hell did the guy want to see the house for? “Most people prefer the lighthouse tower.” His home was off-limits, and obviously, this newcomer hadn’t been briefed.
Sebastian nodded. “I’d like to see that too, but if you’d indulge me, there is a reason for my interest.”
His chest tightened. “Which is?”
“All in good time,” the man said good-naturedly, tapping him on the chest.
Oliver’s fist clenched at his side, but he nodded and forced himself to relax. Technically, the house was under the town’s ownership as a historical property. His family had always lived there rent-free, but they’d never owned the building or the land it was sitting on.
The fragility of his situation had never hit him before that moment.
He changed direction and headed toward the living quarters attached to the lighthouse through a small garage. The four-thousand-square-foot interior was three stories high and its design was just as impressive as the octagon-shaped tower, with its rounded bay windows and upper loft. He opened the door and stood back to let Sebastian enter.
“This place is quite something. A lot better maintained than I was expecting,” Sebastian said as he walked through the open-concept living area.
Oliver’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t like the way this newcomer to town was assessing something that had stood there for generations. That had been in his family for years. The man had an air of arrogance that didn’t fit Port Serenity’s profile. It was no surprise he’d been second choice. “My family has always kept her in good shape,” he said.
“All new appliances?” he asked, glancing into the kitchen.
“A few years old,” Oliver said tightly. In addition to his salary from the Coast Guard Aids to Navigation program, the town provided a budget for any upgrades the house or the tower required, but Oliver had purchased the higher-end appliances himself. He liked to cook and Tess liked to bake—the kitchen was the heart of the home.
Sebastian scanned up the stairs. “Six bedrooms, right?”
The guy had obviously done his research. “That’s right.”
“And it’s just you and your daughter currently living here?”
Oliver’s gut twisted again as he nodded. He didn’t like that this man knew so much about the lighthouse. About him. It wasn’t difficult to find articles online about the history of this place or about Oliver himself; it was one of the reasons it was hard to move on with his life. His past was forever a simple Google search away. There was no escaping or forgetting.
“How many bathrooms?”
“Three,” Oliver said tightly. “Care to tell me what’s happening right now?” It felt as though the house were being appraised by a real-estate agent for potential sale.
Sebastian nodded. “Of course. Truth is, one of the things I was successful in implementing in the last community where I worked was turning their lighthouse into a successful B and B.”
“A B and B?” This was his home. Sure, he’d been wondering how much longer he might stay there...but he didn’t like the idea of turning his home into a vacation rental. The lighthouse was a town landmark, not some tourist trap. This guy should know that the town would never go for that.
“The mayor thought it might be a great idea,” Sebastian said confidently. He lowered his voice as he added, “He also thought that maybe you’d appreciate the opportunity to move on.”
Just how much did this guy know? Orthinkhe knew? Unfortunately, probably a lot. His wife and daughter’s disappearance had been a source of local mystery and intrigue for months. The press had been all over Alaska, interested in reporting the story, and there had been investigators as far as Anchorage who were looking into the case.
Looking intohimand his potential involvement.
He’d had to deal with whispers and rumors circulating through the small town for months, the most harrowing of Oliver’s life as he grieved the loss, bombarded with suspicion and questioning that had nearly broken him.
