Healed: Stone and Pepper (Cliffside Bay Book 7) Read online

  Healed: Stone and Pepper

  Cliffside Bay Series, Book 7

  Tess Thompson

  Contents

  Cliffside Bay, Part II

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright: Tess Thompson 2019

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the seventh installment in the Cliffside Bay Series. I’m so glad you found your way to the little beach town of my imagination. Although these books can be read as stand-alones, I think they’re even better read in order. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the continued story of the Dogs and Wolves and the women they love.

  For a complete listing of all my books, head on over to my website: https://tesswrites.com/books/

  I love to hear from you, so don’t hesitate to write me a note at [email protected]. I almost always answer unless one of my four kids or five cats distracts me.

  Happy reading. Xo

  Tess

  For all the women and men who’ve served in our armed forces. Thank you for your service.

  Cliffside Bay, Part II

  The Wolves

  Chapter 1

  Stone

  Stone Hickman knew life was as fickle as a teenage girl. One moment everything was rainbows, unicorns, and chocolate drops falling from the sky. Without warning, unicorns turned into flying monkeys, and rainbows transformed into moody clouds that rained down those slimy canned peas he’d been forced to eat as a kid surviving on subsidized school lunch.

  Today was all rainbows and unicorns. Given the number of canned-pea type days he’d had during his thirty years of life, he soaked up the unicorns and rainbows, grateful for each one.

  He smiled with contentment as he stepped out of Cliffside Bay’s only grocery store with a bag of breakfast items in his arms. Dozens of bins filled with flowers decorated the store’s entrance. He breathed in the sweet scent of lilies and roses combined with the briny breeze of the sea. October sun rose over the eastern hills and drenched the town in orange and pink light. The air snapped with crisp fall weather. Red and yellow leaves fluttered from sturdy branches of the oaks that lined the street.

  In the quiet stillness of early morning, the sound of waves hitting the shore echoed faintly in the background.

  Main Street was deserted. After Labor Day, the Northern California beach town emptied of tourists to resume its normal one-stoplight kind of existence. Residents of Cliffside Bay were not early risers on a Saturday morning. During summer months visitors flocked to town wearing beach attire, carrying umbrellas, picnic baskets, and sandy children. Their long stretch of beach had always attracted beachcombers from San Francisco, but since his brother, Kyle, had opened a luxury resort, visitors from all over the country swarmed their sleepy bedroom community. Between the resort and the newest tourist favorite, Dog’s Brewery, the vacationer numbers in Cliffside Bay had exploded. The locals grumbled about traffic and people crowding the sidewalks and shops.

  All the way to the bank.

  Yes, life was good. Especially for a guy like him. After a dozen years in the Marines, he’d returned to civilian life to fulfill his lifetime dream of becoming a licensed general contractor. He’d moved to Cliffside Bay to be near his siblings, Kyle and Autumn, and had lucked into a full-service construction partnership with four men who had quickly become his best friends. Among the five of them they had every step needed to construct or remodel residences and small businesses, from architecture to landscaping to interior design. Someday, he would build his own house on Kyle’s property outside of town, but for now he was happily settled in an apartment with the interior design partner of the business, Trey Wattson.

  He’d awakened yesterday to the news that Wolf Enterprises had won the bid to build a mansion for Autumn’s heiress friend, Sara Ness. They’d survive another fiscal quarter. Hallelujah and amen. This was indeed a blessing, since he and the other Wolves, Rafael, Trey, David, and Nico, had sunk every penny they had into the business.

  So, yes, life was good. He had bacon in his grocery bag and blueberries to add to the pancake batter Trey was whipping up in their kitchen. It was Saturday, which meant he could get a good workout in and watch a little college football. He was reading this fantastic thriller recommended to him by Mary Mullen, the local bookstore owner. The woman was like a savant when it came to finding the perfect book for every customer. She was five for five with him. Later, he and the guys might go up for a beer at The Oar. Living right in town had its benefits, including their local haunt within walking distance.

  Maybe Pepper would be there.

  He sighed, thinking of her long legs and haughty chin and those flashing smoke-gray eyes that turned almost lavender when she looked at him. Usually accompanied by a salty insult thrown his way. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and not that he was proud of it, but he was no stranger to beautiful women. He’d had a few in his days. None like Pepper Griffin, though. No woman in the history of the world could compete with her.

  He yearned to have Pepper Griffin in the crook of his arm, but that was a goal for another day. Pepper was what his brother, Kyle, called a stretch goal. Mostly because she hated him. Getting her to fall madly in love with him, adopt a puppy, have his babies, and grow old together might seem unrealistic. For some men, anyway. But he was an optimist. Always had been. One needed that skill when life so often turned to canned peas. Someday, he would win her over. He just needed to crack through her perception of him. She hated military guys. Even former military guys like him. Not that he could blame her, considering four Navy men attacked her when she was nineteen. He didn’t know the details of the assault, only that it was brutal and had caused her to distrust and dislike military men.

  If she’d soften toward him just a bit, he could show her his heart, and he might have a chance. Unrealistic? Maybe. However, he’d lived through three tours in Afghanistan. His Marine buddies said he was like a cat with nine lives, considering the scrapes from which he’d escaped. Surely, given his propensity for landing on his cat feet, feisty, sexy, sassy Pepper Griffin could be his someday.

  From the first moment he met her a little over a year ago and every time since, he’d had this tingle up the back of his spine, like a message from God. They were meant to be together. Like him, she was broken. Together they would heal. Not that he would tell anyone his theory, especially not the guys, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. They were meant to be. So at night, on his knees, as he’d done all his life, he prayed. Please, God, make me worthy. Show me the way to her heart.

  The answer was always the same. Not yet. Be patient. All in good time.

  So instead of brooding over it, he lived his life and strove to be a better man with each passing minute. Once she finally loved him, he would be ready and worthy.

  “Stone Hickman?”

  He stopped mid-stride. Had he heard his name, or was it the rustling of the fall leaves in the oak above his head?

  “Stone Hickman.” The voice was
that of a crackling, raspy longtime smoker.

  He squinted into the bright sun to locate the origin of the voice. He had forgotten his sunglasses, and his blue eyes were sensitive to the light.

  “Stone?” The voice again. He turned to the right. There, under the shade of a tall oak, a shadow moved. He drew closer. A shriveled gray woman stood with her hands clasped together. She wore faded jeans and a sweatshirt with a pumpkin on the front over her skinny frame.

  She seemed vaguely familiar to him, like the first notes of a well-known song he couldn’t quite place. “May I help you?”

  “Stone Hickman?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

  “No, no, you don’t. Not anymore.” Narrow dark eyes peered out from under a fringe of white bangs. Her weathered face reminded him of the skin of an elephant. She stepped toward him until they were only feet apart. “Your eyes are the same. I’d recognize them anywhere.”

  His chest hollowed and his legs went numb. Could it be? No. Ghosts didn’t exist.

  “I’m your mother.” She smiled, and he knew her then. Her front right tooth had a triangle-shaped chip.

  He recoiled and stepped backward. His mother. He’d been six years old when she left with the stranger in a black car. A man. Her boyfriend, his father had told them that night as he slumped on the floor with a bottle of whiskey between his legs.

  “I assumed you were dead.” That was the story he’d told himself. She’d died soon after she left them. Why else would a mother not return to her children?

  “Not yet.” She smiled again, and this time he saw his brother, Kyle.

  He stared at her hard, trying to see the woman she once was. The pretty young mother of his memory was no longer evident. When he was a child, she’d had long, shiny chestnut hair. He had few memories of her. One was of her sitting in the chair by the window as she brushed the long strands, letting them dry in the warm pool of sunlight. He shook aside the vision.

  “How did you find me?” he asked.

  “Social media makes it so no one can hide.” She raised a shaky hand to her hair and smoothed it as if she were a fifties beauty queen. “Even your brother with his changed name was easy to find once I found you and Autumn.”

  “We weren’t hiding.” Her tone made him defensive. She was the one who left, not them.

  “It wouldn’t have mattered if you were. A mother’s instincts always find a way.”

  “After twenty-three years?” he asked, unable to keep the bitter sarcasm out of his voice. Two minutes in and her presence had changed him. Chocolate drops out. Canned peas in.

  “I know I have no right to see you,” she said.

  “It’s been so long.” He wasn’t sure Autumn had any memory of her whatsoever. She’d been only four when their mother left. Kyle had been eight. He remembered a lot. Occasionally, if he’d had a few scotches, he’d tell them a story about her. Even now, after all these years, Kyle mourned her. That loss, that abandonment had shaped so much of who he was—a great father and husband. A great man. But in those unguarded moments when he talked about her, Stone saw the deep hurt that still swam through his veins. Was there anything she could say or do to repair the hole she’d left in their hearts?

  “I just want to talk to you. Once is all I ask.”

  “Autumn doesn’t even remember you.” He wanted to hurt her. That surprised him. He hadn’t thought he cared any longer. “Kyle had to become an adult and care for us when he was only eight years old. Did you think about that when you left us?”

  “I left you with your father.” She jutted her chin forward and fixed her gaze on him, her eyes like the dull plastic of a cheap button.

  A bitter laugh erupted from his gut. “Dad? He was a drunk, and you knew it. You made the choice to leave three little kids alone with a man who couldn’t even take care of himself.”

  “I know it was wrong. I had to go. I couldn’t stay one more minute in that house with him.”

  Then kick him out. Or take us with you.

  “I don’t know what you thought you’d gain by coming here,” he said. “It’s been too long. The damage is long past repair.”

  Her shoulders slouched forward. Defeated so easily. A quitter. A leaver.

  He hated her—wanted to lash out at her and hurt her as she’d hurt them. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here.”

  Her voice quivered. “I have something I need to tell you, and then I’ll leave. I promise.” She pulled a scrap of paper from her jeans and handed it to him. “Here’s the number where I’m staying. I have a motel room up north. I’ll be there for a while. If you change your mind, I’d like a chance to see you. All three of you. Will you ask them for me?”

  “Why me? Why’d you approach me and not Kyle or Autumn?” That question was out of his mouth before he could evaluate why he wanted to know.

  “Kyle was all brain, but you were all heart. You used to spend all day in the forest and come home with a special rock, or wildflowers or some other treasure, and present it to me. ‘Don’t be sad, Mama. I brought you a present.’ I never understood how a little boy knew his mama was sad. I figured you’d be the most likely to agree to ask the others. Please, ask them to meet me for coffee. I won’t bother you again.”

  “I’ll ask them. No promises.” He had no recollection of gifts from his forest adventures. Mostly, he remembered cutting down trees for firewood so they wouldn’t freeze in the long winters.

  “Thank you.”

  With that, she turned away and headed down the sidewalk. Her legs were like twigs. A long white ponytail swung back and forth behind her head, as if it didn’t get the memo that it belonged to an old lady. He watched as she slid into the driver’s seat of a beat-up Honda and pulled into the street. His gaze followed the car until it disappeared around the corner toward the highway. He realized he’d been clutching the bag of groceries to his chest so hard that he’d ripped a hole in the side where the carton of milk had dampened the paper.

  Their mother. Here in Cliffside Bay.

  She wanted money. It had to be money, or why would she have suddenly shown up in town? She’d probably read about Kyle’s vast wealth, accumulated from years in the commercial real estate business. As the Mullen brothers liked to say, Kyle owned half of the strip malls in California. Women like Valerie Hickman didn’t appear because they wanted to mend relationships with their children. She was desperate. No longer pretty, she could not attract a man to take care of her. Maybe she was sick. She looked ill—skinny and with that gray tinge to her skin.

  All these thoughts floated through his mind in tandem with his heart softening with compassion for the woman who’d given birth to him.

  Dazed, he ambled, bleary and unseeing, to the crosswalk in front of the grocery store. Directly across the street, Cliffside Bay Bookstore was dark, as was The Oar. No cars coming either direction. He stepped off the curb.

  A great force yanked him backward just as a black SUV seemed to come from nowhere.

  He toppled backward and fell hard onto the person draped around his waist and neck. The bag of groceries flew from his arms. The SUV raced off toward the highway, nothing but a flash of taillights. Slender legs in black leggings wrapped around his middle. She’d pulled him away from danger by jumping on his back, which meant she’d fallen with him. He shook his head and swallowed the taste of metal in his mouth.

  A woman had yanked him away from danger. A small woman who smelled like spring flowers. He scrambled onto his knees and whipped around to meet the frightened, smoky gray eyes of Pepper Griffin. “Oh my God, are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

  “What do you think? A giant man just knocked me on my butt. Onto a very hard sidewalk, I might add.” Pepper sat with her long dancer legs spread out in front of her. All one hundred and ten furious pounds of her trembled as if she’d love to murder him despite having just saved his life. Black curls tumbled over her forehead, and red lipstick stained her pouty mouth. She winced and pressed both of her ha
nds into the dent above her tailbone. “I’m going to have a bruise on my butt the size of your big head.”

  He knelt next to her and gently wrapped his hands around her upper arms, examining her from head to toe. “Did you hit your head? Did I break you?”

  Her expression softened slightly. “No, you didn’t break me.” They locked gazes. The world around him faded. All thoughts of his mother and the truck disappeared as he let himself fall into the stormy pools of her eyes.

  “You could have smacked your head.” The thought of hurting this precious woman made his head ache. “Head injuries are very serious.”

  She laughed. “Calm down, Boy Scout. I’m not a delicate little princess. Dancers are tougher than most.”

  “Are you sure?” He resisted the urge to run his hands over her body to make sure nothing was broken. In the Marines he’d been trained in first aid. However, he knew his touch would not be welcomed.

  “I’m fine, other than I’ll be stiff tomorrow. I basically leaped onto your shoulders to pull you backward. I’ve taken a million tumbling classes and hours of stage combat. My mom always said I was like a monkey. And you’re a tree, so there you have it.”

  A beautiful, graceful monkey. She could climb up his tree anytime. Shut up, gutter mind. Keep it classy.

  She slid her gaze to his hands still wrapped around her arms. “You can loosen your hold on me now. I’m just fine.” Her eyes glittered as she raised her head to look at him. He wasn’t sure if she was amused or about to launch into one of her attacks on his caveman ways. Last time it was because he called her a girl instead of a woman. Her sharp tongue had nearly slashed him into a million pieces. It had taken great control to hide how her anger hurt him.