If you like small-town romance laced with suspense, danger, found-family, and a sunny happily ever after, you’ll love Island Protector.
About the book:
The biggest mistake of her life led to true happiness… until her past came calling.
Single-mom Molly Trumble has all she needs: a healthy little boy, a great job, and a wonderful community. She might even start dating the handsome sailing instructor who has shown an interest.
But a startling custody challenge sends her reeling–and running straight to the Guardian Agency for help.
Miles Kearney is more than a sailor, he’s a protector to his core.
He’s quick to leap into the fray, willing to help first and ask questions later. With Molly and her son, two people he cares about, caught in the crosshairs…
Consider him dialed in.
The more time he spends with Molly, the more questions Miles has. Nothing about her crisis makes sense, leading him to wonder if it’s his past or hers threatening all she holds dear and the future he longs to build with her.
Sneak Peek!
Chapter 1
Miles Kearney wandered out of his office at the sailing school he owned and hooked his hands on the doorway that separated the office from the storefront. He stretched there until his back and shoulders popped, releasing the tension of deskwork.
Glancing at the clock on the wall near the front door, he smiled to himself and stepped outside for some fresh air. Spotting his favorite student, Bryce, he headed that way for what was sure to be a lively and unpredictable conversation.
Student was a stretch. The little guy had just turned five, but Miles had never met a kid more infatuated with boats and sailing. He asked dozens of questions every time he came by and, as far as Miles could tell, he retained most of the information. The kid was a sponge, soaking up every detail about boats and watercraft and tides that Miles could feed him.
Once he was old enough, assuming the boy’s mom ever approved of sailing lessons, Miles was sure he’d be the best student ever.
The boy and his aunt were sitting together, away from the dock on this breezy day. His aunt, the usual partner on these visits, smiled as she listened to what appeared to be non-stop chatter. On the days she picked Bryce up from school, she brought him down here as a reward for good behavior.
Based on the daily visits these past couple of weeks, the kid was an angel in school lately.
The single-minded fascination with the water was curious. Miles hadn’t even known he wanted to sail—or that he’d be great at it—until he was a teenager. It was an accidental discovery during school when he was with a foster family who had time to support the interest.
He pulled his head away from those memories. Best to leave the past where it belonged—buried deep.
Thanks to the small-town grapevine, Miles had learned the boy didn’t come from generations of fishermen or water experts. No, young Bryce Trumble was the only child of Molly, the manager at Island Bloomers on Central Avenue. The grapevine further informed Miles that Molly and Bryce lived with her aunt Sharon, a well-known artist, who had been an island resident for many years before Molly had arrived—alone and pregnant.
At least Molly had committed to motherhood, rather than smother any good choices with drugs.
Miles found it strange that no one spoke of Bryce’s father or Molly’s life before Brookwell. That kind of avoidance was typically a red flag. When Miles allowed himself to wonder over what situation might have driven her here, that red flag bothered him tremendously.
One of these days he’d shake off the need to intervene, to jump in when people asked rather than pausing to think things through. It was kind of pathetic that he still hadn’t learned that lesson. Being curious and willing to help had changed his career and dumped him right back in South Carolina and the stew of old, uncomfortable memories.
He’d worked his ass off to break free of Charleston. Once he got to college, he had zero reason to return to the Lowcountry. Unlike many of the locals in this island town, he didn’t have warm, fond feelings about the area.
But this was the place where his real employer, Patrick Gamble of the Guardian Agency, felt he would be safest. Here in a small town where everyone knew everyone else, he could go by his real name and, in theory, spot an enemy from a mile away.
So far no enemies. Just a brush with an old acquaintance. Well that wasn’t fair, he amended, thinking of Harper Ellington. She really had been one of his few friends back when he was an awkward, nerdy, poor-kid charity case.
When he looked in the mirror, he still saw the nerdy guy. Though people seemed to consider his introverted, brainiac tendencies as a plus these days. Still a geek, just mature with it.
He actually fit into his body now. Those gangly teenager angles were gone, smoothed out by years of fitness training. And poor was something he would never let himself be again. Since being parked in Brookwell, he’d become the angel investor in start-ups, made anonymous donations to charities that mattered to him, and lived one of his passions by teaching others to love sailing.
Not that he advertised any of that.
He’d grown up surrounded by plenty of old money Southerners. Some of them snobs. They just couldn’t help themselves. And those folks gave scholarships and handouts to poor kids like him so they could feel better about themselves.
Maybe he should send out updated thank-you notes. Explain all of the opportunities he’d capitalized on since receiving those generous scholarships.
“Mr. Miles! Mr. Miles!”
Bryce’s voice pulled him out of his funk and dropped to one knee to greet his most exuberant fan. “Hey Bryce.” He lifted his hand for a high five. “How was school today?”
Over Bryce’s head, Sharon gave him a look, silently asking if she should redirect her nephew. She never wanted to intrude.
He grinned and stood up. “Do you have a minute to walk with me?”
Bryce looked to his aunt. “Do we?”
“Of course we do.” Somehow she managed to indulge the little guy without spoiling him. “Can I tag along?”
“Yes, please.” Miles grinned.
Bryce bounced on his toes and put his small hand into Miles’s palm. “School was fun.” Bryce launched into a familiar rundown of his day.
The little guy liked school but certain aspects bothered him. Probably because the kid was whip smart and being in a classroom with certain expectations about what had to be done and when wasn’t always the most entertaining.
After sharing an update on sight-words, he announced, “We read the best book today.”
“All by yourself? Wow.”
Bryce’s nose wrinkled, a small reflection of his mom’s expression. “No. I don’t read that good, yet. But the teacher does.” He barely paused for a breath. “She read to us about what happens when you give a mouse a cookie.”
Miles laughed. “That is a good one.”
Bryce looked up at him with those big blue eyes, also just like Molly’s. “You know that book?”
“Isn’t that the one where if you give a mouse a cookie he wants to go fishing?”
Bryce’s mouth fell open and then he just doubled over with giggles. “No, that’s not the same story at all.”
“You’re kidding? I was sure that was it. You’d better fill me in.”
Bryce did as Miles asked, giving a rendition of the story that was probably word for word. Or damn close anyway. The kid had a memory Miles wouldn’t want to challenge. And by the time he finished they were down on the dock, in front of the little sunfish that Bryce wanted to sail so badly.
Aunt Sharon trailed along behind them, adding to the conversation here and there. She seemed tense today, which was unusual. Miles rarely met a person more at ease with the world than Sharon. Her paintings were renowned in the Carolinas, the entire eastern seaboard, really. He’d heard she had big gallery showings as far south as Key West, Florida and up north in Portland, Maine and everywhere in between. There were rumors that one of her Chesapeake Bay paintings had sold for six-figures.
He believed it. He’d paid a couple grand for the small canvas he owned, currently displayed in his kitchen. And he had his eye on a larger piece as well, but buying it outright would draw too much attention, so he was currently negotiating through a broker.
He wondered if he should just commission her directly. Around town she was a local celebrity per the Brookwell definition, meaning she was very down to earth. Her discretion about Molly’s past proved she could be trusted with a secret.
“Look, Aunt Sharon. It’s the sunfish.”
“I see it, honey.”
“Miles will teach me how to sail by myself.” He looked up again, squinting against the afternoon sun. “Won’t you?”
“As soon as you’re ready,” Miles promised. “Where’s your mom today?” Sometimes she came down to join them if things were slow at the flower shop.
Miles had been thinking quite a bit about parenting lately. About dreams that may or may not ever come to pass for him.
Bryce was at the heart of those thoughts. He liked Molly a great deal, but he didn’t want to push her. He certainly didn’t want to take a risk that she’d feel too uncomfortable around the marina. This seemed to be Bryce’s favorite place on the island. The kid would happily talk about boats twenty-four-seven if he didn’t have to sleep.
Miles suspected that Bryce’s perfect storybook would involve giving a mouse a cookie on a sailboat.
Having survived a rotation of foster-moms sporting various skill and interest levels, Miles had strong opinions on the subject. He counted Molly as one of the best mothers he’d seen. Sharon too, though she expertly mothered her niece and great-nephew.
Somehow, despite what must’ve been tough circumstances, Molly and Sharon had found a healthy and happy solution to raise Bryce. Miles was glad the two of them had each other. And really happy that Bryce had the two kind, strong women to anchor him.
Miles had never summoned the courage to ask Molly about her life before Brookwell. It didn’t seem right when he couldn’t share many details of his years away. When they did talk, it was about Bryce’s interests or various community events.
He really wanted to find a way to crack that barrier and ask her out. As a woman, not just the mother of a small sailing fanatic. The closest he’d come was during the Halloween festival. The three of them had spent a fun evening at the event, trick-or-treating, enjoying the various games and food. He’d shown off his newest acquisition—a sailboat he was refurbishing for himself—only to learn Molly was afraid of the ocean. She hid those fears and pretended to be brave about it for her son.
“How’s your mom doing?” Miles couldn’t help himself.
“She’s sad,” Bryce declared.
“How come?” He glanced up at Sharon, who stared down in shock at her nephew.
“Oh, she’s fine, sweetie,” Sharon assured him.
Bryce shook his head, determined. His pale eyebrows snapped together as he frowned at her. “She isn’t fine. I saw her hands shaking. And her mouth was all frowny. She was sad.” He turned to Miles, tears gathering in his eyes. “I don’t know why.”
Sharon crouched down. “You’re right, honey. But she’ll be okay. She got a letter that she didn’t like. The information in the letter is her business,” she added firmly, but gently.
His little chin bobbed in agreement and he sniffled. “Okay.”
“You let the grown-ups worry about the mail. Whatever has made her sad won’t affect you,” she promised. She poked his belly and tickled him.
When he grabbed her hand and giggled, she scooped him up and gave him a kiss and then set him on his feet before he protested about being babied. “What do you think Miles will teach us about sailing today?”
The little guy’s expression cleared and he eagerly sat down on the dock next to Miles, listening to every detail about lines, knots, bumpers, and cleats. They had another review about life jackets and water safety rules before Sharon insisted on heading home.
Leaving Miles to wonder about Molly, the letter, and her subsequent sadness.
Not his business, and yet…
She was such a genuinely happy person. He’d only ever seen her upset when it involved Bryce. She had never mentioned Bryce’s father and Miles had the impression that was on purpose. There had never been any talk of Bryce spending a weekend away or a custody arrangement of any kind.
Not. His. Business.
But he couldn’t help himself. Returning to his office, he picked up his phone. Despite the illusion that he was a small business owner in a quiet town, he had connections.
Serious connections he was willing to lean on if it meant helping Molly.
Ready to dive into Island Protector? Preorder your copy today at Amazon
