The Day He Let Go: Hawthorne Harbor Romance, #5

CHAPTER 1

"T rent, party of two?"

Trent Baker stood, wondering if he could get out of this date before it really started. Kathy was a brunette—his only requirement for his friends, who had been setting him up on dates for a couple of months now—but she wasn’t anything like the kind of woman he wanted to spend more than five minutes with.

He knew, because they’d been waiting for a table at the steakhouse for twenty minutes and he’d stopped talking halfway through.

But he didn’t ask Kathy for a raincheck, because he’d never cash that in. And she didn’t act like she wanted to leave either. Maybe she just wanted ribs or the killer delicious rolls at Stan’s.

Trent thought at least he’d eat well tonight, but he wouldn’t be getting a second date.

Kathy carried the conversation, and Trent felt himself loosening up a little bit as drinks came, and then main dishes. He laughed with her when a couple on the dance floor started doing a professional swing and took a long drink from his soda, thinking maybe he just needed to open his mind to women he didn’t immediately click with.

Her phone went off, and she said, Do you mind?

Go ahead. He had his phone on the table too, because his six-year-old son, Porter, could need him at any moment.

Of course, his sister who watched the boy had never interrupted one of Trent’s dates yet. But Kathy didn’t know that, so Trent’s phone sat on the table, screen up.

Kathy twittered over something on her device, and she looked up and said, It’s my boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

The word echoed through Trent’s head, and he blinked at the woman across from him. Her thumbs flew across the screen and the look of joy on her face couldn’t be anything but sincere.

Boyfriend? Trent finally asked, employing his police officer voice. Maybe not the one he used on his four German shepherds while he worked on their K9 training, but close.

Very close.

Kathy looked up, surprise on her face. Yeah, Bruce?

As if Trent should know who Bruce was. Trent had been back in Hawthorne Harbor for four years, and sure, he worked for the police department. But he certainly didn’t know every citizen in town.

How long have you and Bruce been dating? Trent put his napkin on the table, ready to flee this disaster. Ready to simply be a single dad for the rest of his life. He could raise Porter. He could. He could find some way to ease the loneliness in his life. He could.

But he wasn’t going out with another woman from this town.

Oh, six or seven months. Kathy put her phone down and beamed at him.

What did you think this was? Trent waved between the two of them and leaned his elbows on the table.

She blinked, confusion racing through her eyes. Oh, no. She covered her mouth with one hand. Did you think this was a date?

Trent refrained from rolling his eyes by looking up at the waiter as he arrived. We’re ready to go, he said, already pulling out his wallet.

So no dessert?

Trent threw a few twenty-dollar bills on the table and stood. No dessert. The woman had gotten her steak and salad bar already.

Trent, she said, but he was already walking toward the front door. He had to drive her home—he wasn’t going to be rude or anything—but he didn’t have to stay in public for this conversation.

Embarrassment and frustration heated his face, and though autumn had arrived in Hawthorne Harbor, Trent felt hot from head to toe.

Thankfully, Kathy caught up to him and got in his truck without further incident.

Georgia said she had a friend who needed a friend.

Trent grunted, not sure how to respond. Friends who went out together paid for their own meals. They didn’t dress up in bright pink sundresses, wear heels, or put on as much makeup as Kathy had.

Of course, he barely knew her. Maybe she did dress like this all the time.

It’s fine, he said, practically jamming his foot to the floor in his haste to get this date over with. I don’t want to talk about it.

The drive to her house took eight minutes. Eight painfully long minutes of silence, and Trent didn’t get out to walk her to the door. After all, her boyfriend was probably waiting just inside.

Thank you for dinner, she said, and Trent nodded her right out of the truck. He watched to make sure she got inside, as darkness had fallen and the police officer in him wouldn’t let him just drive off.

But then he did pull out of her driveway and head down the highway toward the coast.

He didn’t want to go back to Eliza’s and explain anything to her, and the date had only lasted one hour and fifteen minutes, including that awkward drive.

His sister would ask a lot of questions and then start scrolling through her phone for more of her single friends. And Trent had already tried with three of them, and nothing had clicked.

Maybe nothing ever will, he said to himself and the night in front of him. Maybe Savannah was your click. The very thought of his wife made his heart pinch.

But he’d spent a year in complete mourning, barely alive, barely there for his toddler. And he wasn’t going back to that person. Savannah wouldn’t want him to anyway.

Maybe coming back to Hawthorne Harbor was a bad idea, he thought.

But his sister lived here, and his parents were just a few minutes away in Bell Hill. He’d needed their help with Porter, and their support in everything after Savannah’s death.

He’d been lucky to get a spot on the police force, and his experience from the international airport in Seattle had sealed the job for him.

Cheery, yellow light caught his attention, and he realized he’d driven all the way up to Magleby Mansion. A party was clearly in full swing, and Trent felt like he was living inside a bubble.

Other people had fun. Great first dates. Boyfriends and girlfriends. But he just had his K9 dogs, his son, and his monotonous day-after-day job.

He wanted more than that, but at the same time, he was comfortable with the life he had.

Maybe that was why dating stung so much. It reminded him of how far out of his comfort zone he had to get in order to start and maintain a relationship.

He turned into the circular lane to turn around, a truck with a construction rack on it catching his attention.

Michaels Construction, he read to himself. He eased on the brake and stopped, snapping a quick picture of the side of the truck so he could call and get a quote on what it would take in terms of time and money to build a deck off the back of his house.

If there was anything he loved more than his son and his K9 dogs, it was his backyard. All it was missing at this point, after four years of Trent’s hard work, was a deck.

But he wasn’t going to call Michael on Friday night. He didn’t need to add insult to injury.

He called the construction company on Monday morning and got a Lauren who scheduled a time for the general contractor to come out to Trent’s house to take measurements, talk dimensions, and get the information he needed to provide a quote.

Trent had the whole day off, and with his son in school, he found himself out in the yard with all four German shepherds under his care.

He threw them a ball for about thirty minutes before all of them found the shade from the three giant Washington hawthorn trees he cultivated along the side of his backyard.

All four dogs panted, their huge tongues lolling out of their mouths while Trent pruned and weeded, hopefully for the last time before winter set in.

Hello? a woman called, and Trent startled away from the rose bushes. Wilson stood, and Trent held out his hand for the dog to stay.

In the back, he said, moving toward the fence to unlatch it.

He rounded the corner of the house and came face-to-face with the prettiest woman he’d seen in years. And years.

She had long, dark hair she’d pulled into a ponytail which draped over her shoulder, and she looked at him with sparkly, dark eyes that made his breath catch somewhere behind his lungs.

I’m Lauren Michaels, she said, extending her hand for him to shake over the chest-high chainlink.

Trent fumbled the latch, his heart also tossing around inside his chest.

Lauren Michaels, he said, understanding dawning on him as he finally got the fence open. I’m Trent Baker. He shook her hand, enjoying the zing as their skin met. He had so many questions for her, and none of them were about the deck.

The biggest one—and one he’d really need to know before this woman left his property—was, Do you have a boyfriend?

CHAPTER 2

"H ow do you feel about dogs?" he asked, keeping himself between her and the rest of the yard.

I love dogs, Lauren said, trying not to admire this man quite so much. But he clearly spent time in a gym—and the yard, if the work gloves were any indication—and he had beautiful brown hair and a pair of eyes to match.

He wore a T-shirt that strained across his chest and biceps, and while Lauren had known who Trent was the moment he’d called, it was clear he didn’t know who she was.

Or even that she was a she. It was a common mistake, what with her last name being a common first name for men. Still, it had an S on it, but somehow people overlooked that a lot.

Her cousin Cat would love hearing this story, but Lauren determined she wouldn’t text her to tell it. She could keep her humiliation a secret just this one time, even if it would make Cat laugh.

So I have four German shepherds back here, he said as he finally started walking into the yard. They’re police dogs, and they only respond to me. They shouldn’t even approach you. And you can’t approach them until I say. He cast her a quick glance that held kindness and apprehension, along with the power and authority in his voice. Okay?

Sounds great, Lauren said, following him and wondering if she could ask him out again. Did she really want to get her heart sliced again by this man?

He doesn’t remember, she told herself, but she honestly wasn’t sure if that was better or not. Before, his wife had just passed away, and Lauren hadn’t known that. No wonder Trent Baker had no recollection of her first, flubbed attempt to get a date with him.

She waited near the back door, which had a few steps leading down to the yard and he definitely needed more for this stunning space. From the dwarf apple trees to the lavender growing along the house, to the grape vines to the stunning hawthorns on the far side of the yard—where the dogs waited—Trent definitely needed a deck to enjoy all of his hard work.

Trent kept walking and he spoke to the dogs in low tones so that Lauren couldn’t tell what he was saying. He finally turned and gestured for her to come on over. She did, glad when only one of the shepherds came with him as he approached her. She liked dogs, sure, but maybe not four sixty-pounders at the same time.

This is Wilson, Trent said, and he yipped at the dog before it came trotting forward to greet Lauren.

Wilson sniffed and she crouched down to give the dog a healthy pat around his jowls and ears. Oh, you’re just a big softie, aren’t you? I bet your dad lets you sleep on the bed and everything. She grinned up at Trent, stunned again by his good looks.

So maybe she’d been glad she hadn’t run into him in three years, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try again. Did it? He was single, she knew that. Not really into dating, from what she’d heard.

But she wasn’t in the gossip circles much and could only rely on what she heard from Gillian, her best friend, and Brooklynn, her cousin. And Gillian had a long-time boyfriend and didn’t know as much as she used to. Other than her, Lauren spent all of her time with men, and they certainly didn’t know the last time Trent had gone out with someone.

One by one, each dog came over and got some love from Lauren, and she caught Trent looking at her with a strange glint in his eye. She couldn’t interpret it before she cleared her throat and got back to business.

So, tell me about this deck. She turned to survey the open area at the back of the house. How big are you thinking? She pulled her tape measure from her tool belt and flicked it out.

She was the best general contractor in town, but she didn’t work nearly as much as some of the other companies. She didn’t want to think it was because of her gender, but she couldn't think of any other reason.

Trent detailed the kind of paradise he wanted, and Lauren could see it come to life in her mind.

She used her tablet and the expensive construction software she’d bought to draw up some quick plans as he took the dogs inside to get them a fresh bowl of water.

Twenty minutes later, Lauren felt confident she could tap generate and her tablet would give her a timeline as well as a quote for this dreamy man she really wanted to work with.

She didn’t need to ask him out today if she could land this job. And the truth was, she needed another big project once she finished up the wing at Magleby Mansion.

So where are we at? he asked, coming down the steps and exhaling heavily. My son will be done with school soon, and I have to go pick him up.

Lauren’s chest squeezed on the word son, but she didn’t let it show. I can email this to you. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question.

He joined her at her side, the scent of his skin hitting her like a heavenly punch of cologne and sweat. She kept the swoon under control, but his voice rumbled through her when he said, I have time. Let me see it. He peered at her tablet, and Lauren reminded herself to get the job done.

Okay. She cleared her throat, wishing he didn’t make her so nervous. Maybe if she’d gone out with anyone whose name she could remember in the past three years, her heart wouldn’t be hammering quite so hard right now.

She detailed the project, the hawthorn wood she’d use to mirror the trees, the swing, the benches, the place for the permanent umbrella to be secured so the bay winds wouldn’t disrupt his backyard barbecues.

And what does this cost? he asked, taking a step back. It’s beautiful. Exactly what I want. I just… He gave a chuckle that sounded nervous. I’m on a budget.

Of course, Lauren said. We can do three payments. One-third up front. One in the middle. And one at the end once you’re one-hundred-percent satisfied with my work.

Their eyes met, and Lauren wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating or not, but she felt a quick spark of attraction between them. Fine, it was more like a lightning bolt.

Could he feel it too?

The seconds stretched, and she finally shook herself out of the depths of his eyes. Here’s the price and timeline. She tapped the button and the drawings changed to the quote. She handed him the tablet and stepped back. I have to finish my great-aunt’s place first, so I’m not available until probably the end of October.

And then she had the Festival of Trees after that. She opened her mouth to say she couldn’t start until the new year when Trent said, This looks great, and handed back her tablet. You’re hired.

Happiness flowed through Lauren, and not just because she’d gotten another job to keep her in business for another few months. She’d learned to take things day by day, month by month. Doing that, she’d kept Michaels Construction in business for six years.

Is your great-aunt Mabel Magleby?

That’s right. Lauren tapped a few more buttons and added, I’ll get this printed. Do you want to stop by my place to sign it? Or I can bring it over here at your convenience. She was so professional, and while she might want to take Trent to lunch, she also wanted him to recommend her to all of his friends who might need something done, whether it be a bathroom remodel or a new addition to their house.

I can come to you. He smiled, and honestly, such an action on such a handsome face should be illegal.

Great. Lauren stood there, though she had no reason to stay for another second. And Trent needed to go get his son, but he didn’t move either. Perhaps the lightning had struck him too.

What’s Mabel doing up there? he asked.

A complete renovation of the west wing, Lauren said, seizing onto an opportunity and hoping she didn’t mess it up. She’s having a big party for the reopening. You should come. She added a smile to her face, thinking her invitation could be interpreted as friendly. Like, Hey, the whole town is invited, so you should come too.

She started for the corner of the house and the fence, but he said, Lauren?

Lauren turned back to him. Yeah?

Have we met before? He tilted his head, those eyes harboring so much intelligence.

Lauren wanted to deny it, but she also really wanted a second chance with him. So she let herself emit a light laugh—not a giggle. A businesswoman such as herself did not giggle—and toss her ponytail over her shoulder.

I asked you out once, she said with a quick one-shoulder shrug. I didn’t think you remembered that.

Trent looked like she’d thrown a glass of ice water in his face. I don’t remember that. When was it?

Oh, I don’t know. Three or four years ago.

Something dark crossed his face, and Lauren took it as her cue to leave. It was no big deal. She rounded the corner and had her hand on the latch when he practically yelled her name.

He came around the corner, almost colliding with her. She blinked at him, all the shadows gone from his eyes. She really hoped her invitation to dinner four years ago wouldn’t jeopardize this deck now. She not only needed the job, she really wanted to work on