Wicked: Whispering Cove, Book 3 by Nikki Duncan Read Free Book Online Page A

risk an inquisition. That left the Seaside Pub where someone would be up for a beer or game of pool. Anything to keep him from thinking of the delectable doc.
    On the way to reclaim his clothes, Braydon paused by a hallway table with a stack of the magazines he wrote for. They each looked as if they’d been read and re-read several times, and damn if pride and pleasure didn’t swell inside. Smiling, he detoured to look at the family photos with Danica. Maybe it was a result of knowing the present day Danica, but in every picture of an awkward girl, he saw her beauty. Her spirit.
    He wished he’d gotten to know her long ago.
    He was halfway back up the stairs before he stopped himself. Snuggling up to Danica wasn’t safe. She wasn’t his style, or rather her permanence wasn’t, so he shook off the sentimentality and turned back downstairs.
    Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the Seaside Pub. With its back wall of shutter doors open and offering an unobstructed view of the bay, the dark wood floors and teak bar with the brass foot rail before the backless wooden stools, the place was masculine.
    Softer touches were added in the buttercream-colored paint—which reminded Braydon of the icing Grandma Ruth used to put on his birthday cakes—covering the top half of the paneled walls and muted lighting to set a romantic mood. If romance could be found in a beer-scented place with scarred tables and red-and-green dome lights dangling over the pool tables.
    Apparently it could after the noise died down. A few couples snuggled in cozy corners wrapped in the solitude of companionship. He’d been cozy in Danica’s bed. Could still be.
    “Well hell!” Hauk Michaelsen tossed a rag in the bar sink and grinned. “If it isn’t Sail-away Mitchell. Wondered if you’d show your face here.”
    Hauk’d never been to Norway for more than brief visits to his grandparents, aunts and uncles, but the dialect of the cities lived rich in his voice.
    “Well, if it isn’t Landlocked Michaelsen.” Grateful for a new train of thought, Braydon crossed to the bar and clasped Hauk’s hand. “How’ve you been?”
    “Same old routine.” His grin hadn’t changed since high school. Broad and warm, showing off the chipped tooth he’d gotten from an out-of-bounds ball and a wayward elbow during a junior varsity game. They’d both gotten better at football.
    “Don’t you get tired of the same thing day in and day out?” Braydon slipped onto the nearest stool.
    Hauk poured him a beer and leaned on the counter. “Don’t you get tired of being alone on that boat of yours?”
    “Who said I was alone?”
    “The entire town. Well, at least those not talking about you and the lovely Dr. Dani.”
    What could people be saying? They’d only been in public for the lunch with Granddad. Everything else had been private. Well, mostly everything. He had been ready to strip her above deck on the boat.
    “There’s nothing between us.” Braydon worked the angered lie from his tone. “She’s Granddad’s doctor.”
    Hauk leaned closer and gave an exaggerated bloodhound sniff around Braydon. “Try that bullshit when you don’t smell like her.”
    The appreciation and familiarity slurring Hauk’s voice drilled through Braydon and had his fists clenching. “You don’t know shit. She’s Granddad’s doctor.”
    He repeated the last bit slowly, hoping it would penetrate the layer of beer foam clouding Hauk’s brain. Still, questions nagged.
    How did Hauk know Danica’s scent so well? How familiar were they? And damn it, why should he care?
    “She may be your granddad’s doc, but that doesn’t make men blind to her any more than you can claim women don’t pursue you because of your no-roots life.”
    Braydon shrugged. “I like my life. Have no interest in being stuck in a go-nowhere town with no ambition and kids to support.”
    Hauk’s eyes narrowed to sharp pricks. Defensiveness hardened his jaw and would no doubt snap in his tone.