If for Any Reason (Nantucket Love Story #1) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,103

if he knew the man. There was a familiarity in the way he said his name.

“What are you even doing here?” Eliza asked.

“Alan wanted me to come, Eliza,” he said.

“That’s a lie.”

Hollis leaned in closer. He’d been suspicious of Jack from the start, but he’d only been thinking of the man’s intentions toward Emily. What kind of connection did Jack Walker have to her grandfather?

Hollis leaned into the doorway until he caught sight of Jack, facing off against Eliza the way only the bravest of men would do. He had to give the guy credit for that.

“We don’t have to be enemies,” Jack said.

“Well, we certainly aren’t friends.”

“But maybe we could be. Don’t you think she would’ve wanted it that way?” Jack reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out something that looked like a photograph folded in half.

Eliza stiffened. “What’s this?”

“Just look at it.”

She glared at him. Whatever the relationship was between the two of them, it wasn’t a good one. Slowly Emily’s grandmother unfolded the photo. One look at it, and her face went pale. “Where did you get this?”

He took the photo from her and stuck it back in his pocket. “I found it upstairs.”

Was that what he was looking at the day Hollis caught him in there snooping around?

“You had no right.”

“Maybe not, but Emily does.” Jack stood his ground.

“You can’t show this to her. Think about what that would do to her.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Eliza, I have work to do.”

Hollis felt his shoulders slump. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he had the gnawing feeling that Emily was about to have her heart broken all over again.

Just when he’d started to sort of accept Jack might not be as bad a guy as he’d originally feared.

Jack stormed out of the living room—thankfully not in his direction—leaving Eliza, dumbfounded, with a concerned expression on her face.

The front door opened and Emily appeared, holding a box of Wicked Island Bakery donuts and four to-go cups of coffee.

“Hollis?”

He glanced over and saw Eliza’s eyes snap toward him. Caught.

“Hey, Emily,” he said.

“What are you doing?”

He forced a smile. “Waiting for you.”

Eliza moved to the entryway, looking none too pleased.

“Good morning, Grandma,” Emily said.

“Good morning,” Eliza said. Her face was pulled tight as she looked at Hollis. “Mr. McGuire. Apparently we no longer knock before entering someone else’s house.”

Hollis’s gaze fell to the floor.

“I got you coffee, Grandma.” Emily held up the tray of drinks. “Your name is on that one there.” She motioned with her head.

“I already had my coffee,” her grandma said. “But thank you. Mr. McGuire, could I have a word with you in the kitchen please? Or what used to be the kitchen.”

Emily regarded her grandmother for a long moment. “Why do you need to have a word with Hollis?”

“Don’t be nosy, dear.” Eliza walked toward the kitchen, leaving Hollis standing there, under Emily’s watchful gaze.

“What’s this about?” Emily whispered.

“No idea,” Hollis said. “But I better go.”

Emily widened her eyes. “I’ll take this stuff to Jack and come back to save you.”

He smiled. He’d have a million conversations with Eliza Ackerman if it meant being saved by her granddaughter.

Eliza stood at the sliding door, staring out across the backyard. She held her shoulders straight, arms crossed over her chest, and she didn’t turn to acknowledge him.

“It’s not polite to listen in on other people’s conversations,” she said.

“I’d just come in, Mrs. Ackerman.” Was it a lie? The conversation had been fast-paced, and he really had only been standing there for a minute.

“How much did you hear?”

“Not much—”

“Jack threatening me?”

“I don’t trust him, ma’am.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” She turned to him now as if she’d found an ally, and a sickening feeling washed over him. “Of all the people Emily could’ve hired for this job,” she muttered.

“How do you know him?” Hollis asked.

She regarded him for a moment, then flicked her hand in the air as if deciding to keep her ally at arm’s length. “He used to hang around here years ago. He and Alan had a sort of altercation at the golf club one summer. Alan got him fired—but rightfully so. You don’t mouth off to members when you’re just a caddie.”

“Seems like water under the bridge,” Hollis said, knowing by what he’d overheard that it absolutely was not. He wanted to ask about the photo. He wanted to ask why it would be upsetting to Emily and why Eliza didn’t want her to see it. But doing that