Time After Time (Sweetbriar Cove #14) - Melody Grace Page 0,16

to figure out his next move in life, and he wasn’t sure how Sweetbriar Cove’s three nautical gift shops or seven antique stores were going to help with that.

But at least he knew, he couldn’t screw things up more here.

“How did you find out I was in town, anyway?” Aidan asked, as they heaved open the garage doors. The place was packed full of old tools and junk, piled high around the old boat that loomed in the middle of the cluttered room.

“Alice heard it from Griffin, who saw Stella the other night,” Jackson explained. “Apparently, she’s doing some work at your place?”

“Oh.” Aidan paused at the mention, remembering their awkward scene the other night. “I didn’t realize they were friends.”

Jackson smirked. “They’re all friends here. Just try not to piss Stella off,” he added, warning. “She’s the only decent plumber in town.”

“Why would I annoy her?” Aidan asked.

“Because I know you, and you do have a habit of being… a little cool with people.” Jackson said.

“I’m professional.” Aidan frowned.

“Uh huh. If that’s what you want to call it. Just make sure your professionalism doesn’t leave you with a blocked sewer line and nobody to fix it.”

But that wasn’t the problem with Stella. No, it was the opposite. Aidan was trying so hard to play it cool around her, he could barely get his words out the other day. Because panting after Stella Hartley was a recipe for disaster – as any teenage boy on the Cape could have told him, fifteen years ago. And now that he knew exactly how good her kisses tasted…

Well, it turned out Aidan was older, but not one scrap wiser.

“I’m guessing this wasn’t what you had in mind for you big, relaxing vacation,” Jackson joked, as they began dragging things out of the garage. It was so jam packed full of stuff, Aidan would bet his grandpa hadn’t cleared it out in years.

Sure enough, when he checked a newspaper that was stacked on the floor, he saw the date of the last time anyone had ventured in. “May sixteenth, nineteen-eighty-two!”

Jackson snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we found a couple of bodies back here, too.”

Aidan smiled. “County inspectors who interfered in his business?”

“Or an unlucky door-to-door salesman.” Jackson agreed, rolling up his sleeves. “Come on, let’s get this damn boat out. I promised Alice I’d help set up for the festival at noon.”

Thirty minutes of lifting, stacking, and hauling later, Aidan was breaking a sweat, but they’d cleared enough space for the boat to get hooked to the back of his car and wheeled out into the open air.

Jackson let out a whistle. “Damn, she’s a beauty.”

Aidan blinked. Were they looking at the same thing? The wooden hull was almost twenty feet long and rotting clean away in places, the mast had long since snapped off, and the whole thing was coated in a thick layer of dust and grime. “Why are we keeping this thing around?” he asked. “I should tow it straight to the nearest junkyard, and beg them to take it off our hands.”

“Are you kidding?” Earl joined them in time to hear Aidan’s comments. “That thing was my father’s, he built it himself, the summer of ‘62. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”

“Rotting, with termites and rats?” Aidan asked, dubious, but his grandpa just smiled.

“It just needs some fixing up, that’s all. You should give it a try,” he added. “Keep those hands busy during your break.”

“Sure.” Aidan replied, dead-pan. “I’ll just roll up my sleeves and get to it.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how long I can keep it at my place,” he warned. “I’m not sure when I’m heading back to the city.”

“Always in such a hurry,” Earl said, patting his shoulder. “It’ll do you good to slow things down.”

Aidan went to check the tow connection. “We should have used Luke’s truck,” he said, locking it in place. Between the heavy lifting and the warm weather, he was sweating through his button-down shirt.

“He’s off on a job,” Earl replied cheerfully. “You’re the only one at a loose end.”

Aidan didn’t need reminding.

“I better get back then,” he lied, not wanting another inquisition about the state of his life.

“Wait a sec, I have something for you.” His grandpa headed back into the house, and then reappeared with an envelope.

Aidan took it, and looked at the contents. It was a dozen of the checks he’d sent – uncashed. “Grandpa—” he began to protest. He’d been sending money