CHAPTER1
Gina Gallagher couldn’t believe that her future happiness hinged solely on tracking down her cheating, embezzling louse of a husband.
Not that she wanted to see him, far from it. What shedidwant was her portion of their life savings, which he’d stolen after emptying out their personal and business bank accounts and taking off to parts unknown with his assistant.
If it wasn’t for the money, she wouldn’t have cared if she ever saw his smug face again. Her life was much better without him and his controlling, demeaning ways. It was embarrassing, actually, that she’d let herself be treated that way by him. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Even though his betrayal had put an end to the upscale lifestyle they’d led as real estate developers, she didn’t miss it one bit. She loved her new, simpler life running the Beachcomber Motel on the coast of Maine and the promise of a new career, baking pies like the cranberry-apple one she was now retrieving from the windowsill in the kitchen, where she’d left it to cool.
The pie had come out nearly perfect. The fluted crust was golden brown, and the little maple leaves she’d cut out of dough for the top were perfectly formed. It was hard to believe that just a month ago, she couldn’t even mix a dough that would stick together. She leaned over and took a deep breath, inhaling the sugary scent of apples and cinnamon.
Cooling a pie in the window, where the fresh sea air could wash over it, was the best way, according to the notes she’d found in her grandmother’s recipes, and the kitchen window at the motel had a very wide sill that fit a pie plate perfectly. Maybe her grandmother had even used this window herself, to cool her own pies.
Movement out in the parking lot of the motel caught her eye, and she glanced out, smiling at the colorfully painted motel-room doors and all the cars parked in front of them. She’d been afraid the tourist traffic would dry up after the last big town event, but it hadn’t, and the motel was almost full.
A rental car had pulled up in front of Room Eight, and a woman with shoulder-length blond curls was struggling to get a large suitcase out of the trunk. The woman looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties—about Gina’s age—and her face seemed familiar. She must have been Deena Walters’ daughter, Samantha. They’d given Deena a discount coupon so that her daughter could come and visit.
As she watched, the door to Room Nine opened, and a tall man with short-cropped hair stepped out. He was kind of cute, not that Gina was looking, with a square jaw and friendly smile. Her cousin, Jules, must have checked him in, as Gina had no idea who he was. As she watched, he helped the woman heft her suitcase out of the trunk, and then they stood there chatting. Were they flirting? Maybe there would be a little romance at the Beachcomber Motel this summer.
“That must be Samantha Walters. She checked in online.” Jules had come to stand beside her. Her gaze drifted from the flirting couple to the pie. “Wow, that pie looks amazing.”
“Thanks!” Gina’s heart swelled with pride at her cousin’s compliment. It was hard to believe that she’d gone years without speaking to her cousins before they’d inherited the motel and been forced to work together. Now, they were closer than sisters which was another reason that Gina loved her new life in Shell Cove. She had family here. She belonged. “So, the new system is working good, then?”
The old motel used to have regular metal keys on large orange plastic cards to open the rooms. Jules had recently implemented digital locks on a few of the rooms so that people could check in online and get access to their rooms without having to stop by the motel lobby for the key.
Jules nodded. “So far, so good. These are the first two guests.”
“Who’s the guy?” Gina asked.
“That’s Chuck Sullivan’s son, Cole.”
Gina’s eyes widened, and she stared at her cousin. “You put them next to each other?”
Deena Walters and Chuck Sullivan were in their late sixties, a widow and widower who had found love later in life. Unfortunately, their adult children didn’t approve. Deena and Chuck had invited their kids for a visit, hoping to show them that they truly were made for each other and win over their approval, but Gina had no idea they were coming at the same time.
“Why wouldn’t I put them next to each other? Those are the two rooms that I’m testing the new system on.”
“Yeah, but they each don’t approve of the other’s parent. That sort of puts them in enemy camps. Things could get dicey.”
Jules looked back out at the couple, who were now laughing together as if one of them had just come up with the most hilarious joke.
Looks like they’re getting along fine to me.” She turned and picked the clipboard up off the counter. “I have some last-minute paperwork for Sam to fill out. I’m going to run out and catch her before she settles in. Don’t forget we’re meeting Maddie at noon to celebrate Gram’s birthday lunch at The Boathouse.”
Jules headed out into the parking lot, her chocolate curls bouncing as she made her way toward Sam. She’d recently cut her long hair so that it just brushed her shoulders, and it suited her. Gina fiddled with the ponytail that sprouted from the top of her head. She hadn’t done anything to her own mousy-brown hair since coming to Shell Cove, and it was a rat’s nest. But then, her hair never came out nice like Jules’s or her other cousin, Maddie’s, who had gorgeous silky blond locks. Better to just stuff it in a ponytail. Gina wasn’t too concerned over how she looked.
Mention of their grandmother brought on a pang of sadness. If it wasn’t for Gram, she never would have found this idyllic new life. Gram had left the motel to her, Jules, and Maddie. At first, Gina hadn’t planned on staying. The last thing she’d wanted was to run a motel in a small seaside town, especially since it involved working with her cousins. Her plan had been to get out as quickly as possible, but the place had grown on her.
On her deathbed, Gram had made her promise to enjoy the simple things in life. Gina hadn’t realized what that meant at the time, but after rediscovering her passion for baking and then finding her grandmother’s pie recipes, she came to understand why Gram had made her promise. The simple things really were better, and now, more than anything, she wanted to stay in Shell Cove and pursue her passion.
But she wouldn’t be able to do that if she didn’t find Hugh. She put the pie on the counter, pulled out her phone, and texted the local private investigator who was trying to help her find him. Her office was on the way to The Boathouse restaurant, and Gina was hoping she could stop in and get an update on the case before meeting her cousins for lunch.
* * *
Sam slid her sunglasses down on her nose and peered out over the top to check out the backside of the guy in Room Nine as he walked off toward his car. It had been a while since she’d flirted with anyone, and he was kind of cute. But flirting was as far as it would go.
As a divorce attorney, she knew painfully well that most relationships didn’t work out. After ten years of witnessing how people who had once vowed to stick together until “death did them part” could screw each other over, she had to admit she’d become a bit jaded.
Maybe she should have gone into the family chocolate business like her mother had wanted. It would be a lot less stress. And now that she was back in Shell Cove, she was reminded of how gorgeous the ocean town was. Moving back and working at Saltwater Sweets had once been something she would never have considered, but now she had to admit the idea held a certain appeal.
