My Kind of Crazy

Inc.

My Kind of Crazy

by

Katie O’Sullivan

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

My Kind of Crazy

COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Katie O’Sullivan

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2014

Print ISBN 978-1-62830-360-5

Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-361-2

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

For my husband,

who thought surprising me with

a Saint Bernard puppy was a good idea.

Turns out that it was.

Chapter One

Kendall Roarke! Good to see you out and about, girl.

The flamboyant Maddie Flynn smiled from behind the counter. She’d owned The Cuppa Coffee on Main Street in Harwich Port for as long as anyone could remember, but somehow still held onto her Southern drawl and her flaming red hair. Kendall figured both were fake at this point in Maddie’s life, but somehow the older woman made it all work.

Standing between two of the empty swivel stools, Kendall tried to remember the last time she’d stopped in for one of her favorite scones. It’d been too long. Months, even.

The owner leaned over the counter and plucked something from amidst Kendall’s curls, taking a closer look before dropping it on the counter. Is this wallpaper hiding in that mop of blonde? And what’s that smudge on your cheek? She squinted at Kendall and frowned. Is that inn of yours falling down around you? I knew I should’ve sent a search party over there.

Kendall removed the sunglasses she’d pushed to the top of her head and ran a hand self-consciously over her face and through her hair. Trying to keep a few steps ahead so that doesn’t happen. Been busy getting ready for the coming season, and there’s still a bunch left to do.

Well, if you need help, lemme know. Maddie wiped a damp rag across the already sparkling counter. There’re lots of guys looking for handyman work this spring, what with the slow economy and all. I could pass the word around, if you like.

Kendall shook her head. Thanks anyway, but I can’t afford to hire anyone right now. I’m a little pinched until more event deposits arrive.

She sighed, thinking how ironic it was that her future was tied so tightly with the three big weddings booked at the inn for the coming summer, not to mention the four other brides scheduled to check out the inn in the next month or so, looking for the perfect spot for their fall events. September on Cape Cod was one of the most beautiful times of the year, especially for weddings.

She was gambling everything on these upcoming events being successful and keeping her solvent, which seemed like a stretch when her own marriage had turned into such an utter disaster.

Maddie grabbed the coffeepot and a large cardboard cup, pouring as she spoke. Honey, you jus’ let me know if you need help. With anything.

Thanks.

In the corner of the café, voices raised in welcome. Kendall glanced over and saw a couple embracing before they both sat back down at the table. The woman was smiling at her companion with such love and happiness on her face. Kendall wondered if she’d feel that way about a man ever again.

She turned back to Maddie. Hey, speaking of help, I recognize that woman over there, in the corner with her husband. I can’t remember her name for the life of me, or even why I know her.

Placing the pot back on the warming burner, Maddie leaned her elbows on the counter, her eyes sliding to the side to check out the couple in question. That’s Marilyn Berkshire. She’s run the children’s room at the library forever, so I’m sure you’ve seen her there, she stage-whispered. She patted her brassy red hair with one hand as she looked back at Kendall and arched one overly-manicured brow. Never seen the guy before. He sure ain’t her husband, though. Joe’s a bald old coot with an uncanny resemblance to the Buddha, if you know what I mean. Hey, d’ya think Marilyn’s stepping out on ol’ Joe? Not that I blame her…

Kendall straightened quickly, feeling her face grow hot even as her insides froze. People had probably done the same kind of whispering about her flailing marriage. She hated the thought of people talking behind her back, or anyone else’s, for that matter. Small towns might thrive on gossip, but Kendall no longer wanted to participate. It’s none of our business, Maddie.

The older woman’s blue eyes widened with understanding. Now, honey… Maddie laid a gentle hand over Kendall’s. You know I don’t gossip ’bout the people I love.

Some of the ice inside Kendall melted. She managed a smile. Good to know. Not to change the subject, but do I smell cinnamon? I’m going to need baked goods for my guests this summer.

Didn’t you go to culinary school yourself?

Kendall laughed. For the business aspects only. Trust me, all I can make in the kitchen is a mess.

The older woman shook her head. I’m sure we can work something out. The new kid don’t listen to me worth beans, but he sure knows how to cook. Goes to Cape Cod Tech, in the hospitality program. He’ll be here full-time starting in June.

You mean he’s still in high school? Kendall narrowed her eyes, already feeling skeptical about placing an order to go with her coffee, let alone to feed to her summer guests. At the thought of leaving empty-handed, her stomach growled in protest.

Don’t worry. Maddie gave a reassuring wave of a hand. I’m sure we’ll be able to work somethin’ to keep them tourists of yours happy.

What do you have left today? Kendall crossed her fingers. Cinnamon smelled the best, but cranberry anything had always been her favorite, the mix of the tart with the sweet an irresistible combination.

Maddie pointed at the white board behind the counter. Still got it all. Our signature meltaway pastries, and blueberry, orange walnut and cranberry for the scones, plus a bunch o’ muffins. Been a slow morning. I told him it was too early in the season to bake so much, even on a Saturday, but he don’t listen.

Kendall placed her order for a sampling of the scones, promising herself just a taste of each one. Except maybe the cranberry.

Maddie filled the bakery box and Kendall’s mouth started to water, but her mind drifted back to the pair at the corner table. Was the librarian really cheating on her husband? Do librarians even do that kind of thing? When Maddie went out back to find a fresh roll of string to tie up the box, Kendall turned to check out the librarian’s new guy.

His back was to her now, so she couldn’t see his face to decide if he looked familiar. If he was from Harwich or one of the surrounding towns, chances were she’d know him. Although the population swelled in July and August with the influx of tourists, the whole mid-Cape area was very much like a small town where everyone knew everyone else. Especially in Harwich.

White polo shirt, khaki pants, docksiders…the cleancut stranger looked to be about average height, maybe a little taller than her own five foot seven. His dark brown hair was still damp and sported just the teensiest dash of silver near the temple, leading Kendall to guess he might be in his early to mid-thirties, younger than she’d originally assumed. Way too young to be having an affair with a sixty-something librarian.

Marilyn must have made a joke, because just then he sat back and laughed, a deep, full-bodied sound that made Kendall’s eyes widen and her nerves tingle. As if sensing her stare, the stranger turned slightly and caught her eye, giving a full view of strong cheekbones, an angular jaw, and sparkling green eyes. Then he smiled. It was the kind of heart-stopping, full-dimpled smile that made her stomach do an Olympic-sized backflip. Kendall quickly turned away, feeling her cheeks flame as she tried to catch her breath.

The nerve of some men! How could the guy carry on with a married woman—a librarian, even!—and be flirting with Kendall at the same time?

Luckily, Maddie returned at that moment with Kendall’s box of breakfast treats, tied with string and ready to go. I squeezed in one of the meltaways, too. My treat.

The delicious scent of cinnamon wafted from the box. Kendall paid and thanked Maddie, hoping the pastries tasted half as good as they smelled. She promised to return later in the week to talk about summer ordering.

The bells tinkled over the door as it swung closed behind her. Squinting in the bright May sunshine, Kendall wished she’d remembered to bring sunglasses. Before she could get more than a few steps from the shop, she felt a light touch on her shoulder.

Excuse me?

She turned to find the stranger from the corner table on the sidewalk next to her. He was much taller than she’d guessed, maybe six feet or a little more, with long legs and wide shoulders. You left these on the counter. He held out her sunglasses. I thought you might need them.

She looked from the glasses up into his smiling face, and felt her knees go a bit weak. Up close, his eyes were the most brilliant shade of green Kendall had ever seen. Her stomach tightened into a knot and the air around her seemed to disappear, making it hard to breathe. Laugh lines radiated from his eyes and the small creases of dimples in his cheeks as he smiled.

Kendall exhaled, and reminded herself that it didn’t matter how breathtakingly cute he was. The guy was having an affair with a married woman.

Umm, thanks, I guess. Her voice sounded as awkward as she felt. She reached to take her glasses, and realized that both hands were full with the coffee cup and bakery box. She juggled to balance the large box on top of the cup’s plastic lid to free up a hand.

Here, let me help. He stepped in even closer. Instead of taking either the box or the cup out of her hands, he slipped the sunglasses on her head, sliding them through her long curls and into place over her ears. This close, the clean scents of soap and citrusy shampoo wafted from his still-damp hair. Major sparks tingled throughout her entire body, his hands lingering for a moment in her hair before he seemed to catch himself and take a step back. My name’s Jon, by the way. And you are?

She stared at him, feeling like she was falling over a cliff, getting lost in the depths of those unbelievably green eyes. After what seemed like far too long a moment, she blinked. You know she’s married, right? Kendall blurted, unable to censor her thoughts. She bit her tongue, mentally kicking herself for making any kind of a scene on the sidewalk.

He laughed, that deep-throated laugh sending shivers running down her spine again. Marilyn? Yes, I’m well aware, he said, dimples showing as his smile widened. Hey, you want to come back inside? I’ll buy you some eggs to go with that coffee. He gestured to the cardboard cup in her hand.

Pressing her lips firmly together, Kendall turned from the impudent stranger and marched in the opposite direction.

Wait! Come back!

She kept walking.

****

Jonathan Reynolds stood on the sidewalk and watched the woman walk away. He didn’t try to stop her, but damned if he wasn’t going to stay and admire the view. The woman sure knew how to swing her hips when she was pissed off. Such nice hips, too—full and round in a way that made him think all kinds of inappropriate things. Certainly not the stick-figure skinny type so popular back in San Francisco. And those blonde curls…They might look like a tangled mess, but they’d felt so silky between his fingers when he’d slipped her sunglasses into place, the coconut scent wafting from her hair making him think of a tropical island getaway. He suddenly wondered what she’d look like in a bikini, strolling along some sun-drenched beach.

He rubbed a hand along his jaw, enjoying the mental image. What did I do to offend? He’d barely gotten out a full sentence or two. He’d even returned her shades—that had to count for something, didn’t it? Like his mom always told him, a little charm could go a long, long way.

But apparently not with this particular blonde.

The only thing he could think of working against him was that he was a stranger in a small town. Maybe she was one of those types who didn’t like the tourists who flocked to Cape Cod in the spring and summer.

Perhaps once she realized he wasn’t a tourist, she’d lighten up. What did she mean about Marilyn being married? Why did that matter in the least?

Women, he muttered, and turned back toward the coffee shop. He thought moving to the east coast would make his life easier. Less complicated. The women who liked to complicate his life were still safely in San Francisco. His ex-wife. Her new lover. His mother. Her latest love interest…

I don’t need any new complications, just a little fun, he lectured himself, as he swung open the café door, making the bells tinkle merrily. Marilyn glanced up from her coffee mug and waved to him, as if to remind him where their table was. He smiled at her as he made his way back, trying to put the voluptuous blonde with the mop of crazy curls out of his mind. And failing miserably.

Chapter Two

It’s only for a month. Six weeks, tops. He has nowhere else to go, the poor guy.

Kendall bit her bottom lip, the phone pressed against her ear as she gripped the wallpaper scraper with the other hand. Her first instinct was to say no. She didn’t need any distractions right now. Her mind flitted to the dark-haired stranger she’d met at the coffee shop earlier. She’d been picturing those emerald eyes on and off all morning. Well, maybe sometime in the future she’d be ready for a green-eyed distraction.

Just not yet.

But somehow, she couldn’t tell her friend no. It was a measly two-letter word and yet she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She stared at the faded wallpaper, clinging onto the wall in scraggly strips. Nothing was ever as easy as she thought it would be.

Kendall? Are you still there?

She exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Yes, Dorothy, I’m still here. I guess I can help. She paused, closing her eyes to shut out the mess surrounding her. But only for a little while. He needs to be gone before the tourists arrive on the Cape for the Fourth of July. And you’re going to owe me. I’m short a waitress for that first wedding I’ve already booked. If I do this favor for you, I’m adding your name to my list right now.

You won’t regret it, Dorothy assured her, but Kendall was already having second thoughts. As her friend rattled on about the details, Kendall glanced through the doorway to the inn’s living room. The ceiling in there could use a fresh coat of white paint. She could probably do that at the same time as the hallway ceiling. Except those walls needed paint, too. And the couches looked a tad threadbare…maybe slipcovers? She couldn’t afford new furniture right now.

There was already too much work to do this spring. Why was she agreeing to do even more?

She and her ex bought the old sea captain’s mansion two years before, and the future seemed so bright. She’d fallen in love with this old house when she was barely ten years old. As a teen, she’d dreamed of buying it and fixing it up to run it as a bed and breakfast, and was thankful her parents had agreed to invest in the success of the inn.

Now everything looked faded, including the upholstery.

As part of the divorce, Kendall bought out Chris’s share of the business. The lawyers hammered out a two-year payment schedule for the balance. Two years of a rotten marriage, two years of payments to finally end it. Kendall liked the symmetry of it, and looked forward to the day she wouldn’t have to think about her ex ever again. But tackling these recent renovations on her own had made for a busy off-season.

The end was finally in sight, but there was still plenty to do. The outdated wallpaper she’d spent all morning scraping from the hallway walls was just the beginning of this weekend’s to-do list. The rest of the old wallpaper paste would need to be thoroughly scrubbed before the painting could begin. And then on to the ballroom…

When they’d first bought the inn, there were more pressing issues than repainting. Like upgrading the septic system and renovating the 1950’s era kitchen to restaurant quality. She’d almost choked when the electrician handed in the bill for upgrading the electricity from glass fuses to circuit breakers, but it had to be done.

Now it was time for all the little details her ex hadn’t thought were important. It took most of winter to update the bathroom fixtures, and repaint the upstairs hallways and the four guest rooms on the third floor. She’d also invested a big chunk of time, effort and money last month hiring landscapers to reseed the large fenced-in yard. Now that the grass was growing, she needed to finish by planting flowers around the edges and the back porch.

How to get everything done before her June deadline?

So, stop by the shelter any time after three, Dorothy was saying. I’ll have the dog and the paperwork ready for you to fill out. But be here before four because we close early on Saturdays.

Kendall frowned. Paperwork? Why do I need to sign anything? It’s just a temporary arrangement.

Dorothy laughed. It’s no big deal, Ken. Just routine.

After assuring Dorothy that she’d be in Brewster sometime around three, Kendall clicked off the cell phone. She pushed the unruly curls from her face and surveyed her progress.

She’d finished most of the scraping before Dorothy called, interrupting her momentum. Now her shoulder muscles ached and the last remaining section loomed, looking huge and daunting. The cranberry scone had been such a disappointment, too. Doughy and heavy, the scone tasted more of salt than cranberries. With a heavy sigh, she decided she’d have to find out soon if the new kid’s muffins tasted any better than the scones. If not, she’d definitely need to come up with a Plan B for her summer guests.

Kendall took another deep breath and closed her eyes. This will all work out. I will make this all work out, she told herself, trying to visualize success.

The new strategy of focusing on weddings would work. She’d be able to stand on her own feet, by herself, for the first time ever. Just the thought of impending independence was inspiring.

She opened her eyes and continued scraping the last of the wallpaper. There was certainly no time to waste with daydreams about tall, dark-haired men with eyes shaded in the wild greens of a tropical rainforest...

Focus, Ken. Keep your eyes on the prize, and not on another stupid guy, even if he does have beautiful eyes.

Chapter Three

Pulling into the parking lot at the Brewster Animal Rescue Shelter, Kendall ran through the list of errands in her head, mentally ticking off the items left on the to-do list and wishing she had a scrap of paper to write it all down so she wouldn’t forget anything. Lists were her best friends these days.

She’d finished scraping and scrubbing the walls, the run-in with the stranger outside the coffee shop giving that extra boost of fire she needed to get the job done. A little tingle ran through her body at the thought of how his hands had lingered in her hair. How dare he flirt like that, with Marilyn-the-cheating-librarian sitting right there by the window!

Kendall set her mouth into a firm line, trying to dismiss his dimpled smile from her thoughts once and for all. She needed to focus on the tasks still on that list.

Dimples weren’t on her to-do list for today. If ever.

She’d just spent over an hour at the paint store agonizing over color choices for the hallway and the old ballroom, finally settling on a shade of eggshell white for the hallway and a periwinkle blue for the larger function room. She bought enough bright white ceiling paint for the whole first floor.

In her mind, Kendall pictured crisp tablecloths with arrangements of hydrangeas nestled in the centers, against the backdrop of periwinkle walls with bright white trim. A perfect Cape Cod wedding tableau.

Which reminded her that she needed to stop by the Town Offices first thing on Monday morning to renew the liquor license for the season. Much easier to cater the perfect wedding if you serve champagne.

As she pushed the door open, a cacophony of barking assaulted her ears. The outdoor runs at the back of the shelter were totally occupied with dogs large and small, all of whom seemed desperate to make themselves heard. No wonder Dorothy needed to find temporary homes for some of the animals.

May I help you? asked the woman behind the desk as Kendall entered the small front office. She had thick-framed glasses and wore her dark hair in a loose bun, the librarian look that seemed to be all the rage lately, and which made Kendall think of Marilyn, the cougar of librarians. Which made her think of a certain pair of emerald eyes…

She smiled at the woman. Uh, yes. She took off her sunglasses, dropping them into her bag so she wouldn’t misplace them again. I’m here to see Dorothy Eldredge. About fostering a dog?

The woman returned her smile. Are you the one here for Midget?

You must be joking. Is that really the dog’s name? She pictured a teacup poodle sitting atop a pillow, a diminutive animal to go with the silly name. Fostering a dog that small wouldn’t be hard at all.

The other woman laughed. An unfortunate name for sure. Her face turned serious. He was surrendered yesterday by his family. Their note said the house was foreclosed on, and they’re leaving the Cape to move in with relatives who don’t have room for a dog. It’s so sad when that happens, but it’s become more common.

They couldn’t find room for a dog named Midget? Kendall choked up at the thought of children having to say goodbye to their pet. Well, I’m sure someone will adopt him soon.

He’s really quite a cutie, so that’s obviously what we’re hoping. But there’s a waiting period on surrenders, just in case the people figure out a way to come back for him. The shelter is pretty full right now, and we all think he’ll be happier in a quieter spot. She smiled again. Why don’t you fill out this foster care agreement while I get Mrs. Eldredge?

Sounds good. Kendall took the form and sat in the plastic chair next to the desk. The other woman disappeared through a door marked Authorized Personnel Only.

Moments later, Dorothy emerged. "Ken! Right on