The Way the Story Goes Read online

  All the way home and even while she carried all the bags into the house—thanks to the built-in elevator—her smile was firmly in place. And when she opened the sliding glass doors along the back of the house and heard nothing but the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, she almost wept with gratitude.

  “Finally,” she murmured. “Maybe I’ll be able to enjoy a glass of wine out on the deck with a little peace tonight.”

  As soon as the thought took hold, Mia raced to her bedroom and changed into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, tossed her long hair up into a ponytail, and grabbed a hoodie before making her way back to the kitchen. She paused at the open doorway to listen once again to make sure no power tools or obnoxious singing had started up. When it seemed like the coast was still clear, she giddily made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of merlot.

  “I deserve this.” The sun was still shining brightly, so she scooped up her sunglasses and walked out onto the deck. Lifting her glass to the beach, she said, “Glorious.”

  Five minutes later, when it was still quiet, she decided to walk down onto the sand and really enjoy the time. Slowly, she walked down the steps from her deck and once her bare feet hit the cool sand, any lingering tension left her body.

  She walked close to the water and cautiously tested it—but it was freezing—and then quickly skirted away from where it was crashing on the shore. There was no rush to get back to the house. She had no one to worry about but herself, and as she strolled up and down the beach, she wished every day could be like this.

  If the sound of the ocean was the only sound she heard, she’d be the happiest person alive.

  If she could take breaks from writing and walk in the sand, it would be the best form of therapy.

  If she could…

  Loud music broke her concentration and killed her inner peace. Tonight’s selection was some sort of hard rock—Aerosmith, maybe? Either way, it was far too loud and far too inconsiderate for Mia to ignore any longer. As much as she hated confrontation, she hated this guy and his bad manners even more.

  Stomping up the sand with her glass of wine still half full, she mentally prepared what she was going to say to him. In her mind, she calmly but firmly told him what a bad neighbor he was and how much he was ruining her stay in Magnolia Sound. He, of course, would scoff at her at first, but then apologize. That’s the way civilized people did things.

  Then she thought of her character in the book she was writing. There, Colton Maxwell would simply laugh in her face and tell her she was just a silly little woman and to go on her merry way because he didn’t give a damn about being a good neighbor. He’d use colorful—and offensive—language the entire time before throwing something against the wall and kicking her out.

  But this was reality, not fiction, and at the foot of the stairs leading up to his deck, she paused and prayed he wasn’t really like the character she created.

  Suddenly, she didn’t feel very brave or confrontational. She thought of what Sydney had said earlier and decided maybe it would be best to wait. Her friend was way more confident than Mia ever was, and if Sydney came over here and talked to this guy, Mia was sure he’d listen.

  With a weary sigh, she took one step back and then another and was about to turn when a large object came flying off the deck along with a growl from somewhere up on it.

  Screaming, her wine splashed all over her as she dove to get out of the way. And with a mouthful of sand, she silently prayed something heavy wasn’t about to land on her.

  “Son of a bitch!” Austin heard the scream and couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to throw the sink off the deck without making sure no one was walking nearby.

  Although, in his defense, he hadn’t seen anyone out on the beach all day, so…

  Not the point, dumbass! Obviously someone’s out there now!

  Rushing down the stairs, he saw a woman curled up on the sand.

  “Holy shit!” Rushing to her side, he dropped to his knees and gently rolled her over. He saw a large bright red stain on her shirt and thought for certain he’d killed her. “No,” he muttered. “No, no, no, no!” Carefully, he examined her and was feeling around for her pulse when one small hand reached up and smacked him away.

  “Stop touching me!” she cried as she carefully sat up. “What in the world is the matter with you? Are you seriously trying to kill someone?”

  She was pretty feisty and she was also clearly bleeding from somewhere, but when he looked around, he noticed the sink was about six feet away. Without thinking, he reached out to touch her shirt only to get his hand smacked again.

  “What is wrong with you? I just said don’t touch me!” This time, she jumped to her feet and started to walk away when he heard something crunch and then she screamed again.

  Like a full-on horror movie scream.

  Looking down, he saw she’d stepped on some glass and immediately put two and two together—the red stain was wine and that was her wine glass.

  Shit.

  Scooping her up in his arms, he side-stepped the glass and quickly carried her up the stairs toward the house. He had a first-aid kit up there and knew they needed to clean up her foot fast.

  “Put me down!” she cried and then really started to cry from the pain. “Where are we going? I need to go to the emergency room!”

  And while Austin didn’t doubt that, he knew it was better for them to get it cleaned up first.

  Storming into the house, he ignored all the construction debris and sprinted up the stairs two at a time because the master bathroom here on the main floor was completely gutted. Plus, the entire downstairs was a dusty mess and not the best place to try to clean an open wound. She clung to him as she continued to sob, but at least she wasn’t yelling at him or swatting him away.

  Kicking the bathroom door open, he gently placed her down on the vanity countertop and immediately turned on the water in the sink. Glancing down at his hands, he saw they were filthy, so he quickly washed them before directing her to put her foot in the sink.

  “Isn’t that going to sting?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe? Doesn’t matter, we’ve got to clean it and see what we’re dealing with.” Once she did as she was told and he heard her hiss, he knew there was more to do. “Wait here. I’m going to get my first-aid kit.”

  “Where am I going to go?” she mumbled under her breath and he fought the urge to smile.

  Yeah, she was definitely feisty.

  As he ran down the stairs, Austin prayed she wasn’t going to need stitches. Even though the glass was hers and technically not his fault, he was still partially responsible. If he hadn’t thrown the sink and scared her, she wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.

  Grabbing the kit, he muttered a curse and raced back up the stairs. She was exactly where he’d left her, and she glared at him when he walked back into the room.

  It was the first time he was actually looking at her face and…wow. His heart kicked hard in his chest and for a second it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

  She was beautiful.

  Dark eyes, dark hair, full pink lips, and Austin swore that even though she was glaring at him, he’d give anything to kiss her and see if those lips were as soft as they looked.

  “Uh…here,” he said softly. “Let’s take a look at your foot and see what we’re dealing with.” When she nodded, he carefully lifted her foot from the sink and examined it.

  It was small. Delicate. And her toes were painted a pale shade of pink. She had tiny ankles and his hands looked almost comically large holding her foot. When he examined the bottom of it, however, he saw one cut and not much else.

  “Okay,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. “I’m going to have to sort of…poke around and see if I feel any glass. Right now, there’s only one slice I can see, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t small slivers of glass embedded in there.”

  “Oh, God…” she groane
d. She closed her eyes and her head fell back and Austin did his best to just focus on the task at hand and not on the way her breasts were straining against her shirt or how he could see her pulse beating rapidly along the slender column of her throat.

  “First, I’m going to use the tweezer to pull out this one that’s in the cut and then I’ll check the rest. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  Austin always had a steady hand, but he saw a slight tremor as he removed the piece of glass from the ball of her foot. Once it was out, he glanced up at her. “You okay?”

  Another nod.

  His thumb slowly caressed the sole of her foot from her heel to her toes and back again several times. When it seemed it was still only the one gash, he put her foot back down and grabbed a towel for her. “I have a magnifying glass down in my toolbox. Let me go grab it and make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

  “Was there a lot in there?”

  “Honestly, it looks like just the one spot and I didn’t feel any more glass in it. After I look at it with the magnifier, we’ll pour some peroxide in it and clean it out and I think you can avoid getting stitches.”

  She sagged with relief and Austin raced from the room again. When he came back, he found her examining her foot and she was definitely calmer. Looking up at him, she said, “I think you’re right. It stings, but I can’t feel anything in there.”

  “Did you step all the way down on the glass?”

  “No. Once I realized what I’d done, I jerked my foot away. At least…that’s what I think I did.”

  Nodding, he offered her another tentative smile. “May I?” he asked, motioning to her foot. When she nodded, he picked it up again and examined it with the magnifier for several minutes because he didn’t want to risk missing anything. When he was satisfied there wasn’t any other glass embedded anywhere, he guided her foot back to the sink and grabbed the peroxide from under the vanity. It was something he always kept on hand because he knew cuts were bound to happen on a daily basis on a job site and he was thankful he had it right now.

  She hissed again when he liberally poured it on the cut and saw her bite her lip while they waited for it to do its thing.

  Within minutes, he had her bandaged up and was putting the kit away. When she hopped off the vanity and went to walk out of the bathroom, he stopped her. “You can’t walk down there.”

  Her dark ponytail swung around like a whip when she turned back to him. “Why not? I’m leaving,” she stated, frowning at him like he was an idiot.

  “It’s filthy down there,” he retorted, using the same tone and look she was giving him.

  “So…what? I’m supposed to stay up here until you’re done renovating? No thank you. I’ll be going now.”

  She went all of one step before she cried out in pain. Austin automatically swung her up in his arms again and carried her down the stairs while she let out a long breath and rolled her eyes. “You know, I’m getting a little tired of you manhandling me.”

  “Yeah, well, believe it or not, I don’t care.”

  He swore she mumbled something under her breath, but he didn’t catch it. Once they were outside and down on the sand, he contemplated his next move. Her foot was bandaged but obviously it still hurt. “Um…where’s your shoes? Are they down by the water or out by your car?”

  “They’re in my house.” Wiggling in his arms, she said, “Seriously, can you just put me down?”

  “Where’s your house? Because you can’t walk in the sand with your foot like that. You barely made it one step without crying. Plus, there’s a chance of sand getting under the bandage and into the cut…”

  “I did not cry,” she said defensively, pushing at his shoulder. “Just…this is ridiculous. I can make it home by myself. I don’t need any more help from you.”

  Okay, that wasn’t feisty—that was just bitchy—and he took offense to it. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically. “Did my carrying you and cleaning your foot and making sure you didn’t need stitches and then bandaging you up bother you, Princess?”

  “Ugh…you really are the worst. I knew you would be.”

  She knew he would be? What the…?

  “Just tell me which direction your house is so we can get this over with,” he snapped because the sooner he got rid of this chick, the better. It didn’t matter how attractive she was—her attitude ruined it.

  “That way,” she said, pointing over her shoulder.

  Silently, he stomped along the sand and they hadn’t gone more than twenty steps when she told him to stop.

  “Why?”

  “Because this is my house.”

  Shit.

  They were neighbors.

  Awesome.

  Knowing he still couldn’t just put her down, he carried her up the steps to the deck and then into the house.

  And hoped there wasn’t an angry husband ready to punch him in the face for carrying her through the door.

  Once they were inside, he put her down on the sofa and looked around. The house was gorgeous—all high-end furnishings and looked like it had been recently renovated. He had no idea what Ryder had in mind for decorating, but he’d love to know who did the work here so he could refer them.

  “Um…you going to be okay?” he asked. “Do you need anything?”

  It looked like she had a lot she wanted to say but seemed to reconsider. “No. Thank you for getting me home.” She paused. “And for helping me with my foot.”

  With a curt nod, Austin wondered if there was anything else he should do when he realized one very important thing. “By the way, I’m Austin Coleman,” he said gruffly, holding out his hand in introduction.

  Her eyes narrowed for just a second before she put her hand in his. “Mia Kingsley.”

  Her hand was as small and delicate as her foot was—which was a weird thing to be thinking about and comparing—and once again, he felt a little awkward. Straightening, he released her hand and took a step back. “So, um…I guess we’re neighbors.” Another step back. “If there’s anything you need…”

  “Did you say your last name is Coleman?”

  He nodded and held his breath. Austin didn’t recognize her or her name so he didn’t think they knew each other in any way, but…maybe his reputation—or his family’s—preceded him.

  Especially if Mia was a local.

  “Why does that name sound familiar?” she asked, but more to herself. Then her eyes seemed to spark with recognition.

  Shit.

  “As in Coleman Construction? Is that you?”

  Wait…what?

  “Uh…no. I mean, it’s a family business—my family, kind of—but not me.”

  “But you’re obviously doing construction,” she said, frowning with confusion.

  This so wasn’t a topic he wanted to get into with a stranger, but he figured he’d give her the Reader’s Digest version and leave.

  “My great-grandfather started the business many, many years ago. When he died, he passed it on to my cousin Mallory’s husband, Jake. I’m an architect and I do construction and home renovations from time to time, but…not with the family business.”

  “Well that just seems stupid,” she said. “But then again…” She let the statement drop, and for some reason, it irked the crap out of him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” It didn’t seem possible for this tiny woman to be such a huge annoyance, and yet…she was.

  Letting out a long breath, Mia studied him. “Which part were you referring to exactly? The stupid part or the other?”

  “The other,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “You’re very rude,” she blurted out, and before Austin could ask for clarification, she was sitting up straighter and already spouting more. “Why do you have to run power tools twelve hours a day? Don’t you have any consideration for your neighbors? Has it ever occurred to you that some people enjoy peace and quiet or that they need it so they can work or simply hear themselves think? I mean, how hard
is it to be considerate? And the music? It’s no longer the eighties, for crying out loud! And maybe your hearing is damaged from all the loud power tools and you can’t hear yourself, but you can’t sing either! Why do my ears have to be assaulted by that screeching every night after listening to the constant screaming of tools all day?” She clearly must have exhausted herself because she collapsed back against the sofa cushions and flung her arm over her eyes.

  “Um…”

  “Just go,” she murmured. “This whole thing is just…” Rather than finish, she groaned and waved him off.

  It would have been easy to just walk out, but now he felt bad. Apparently while he’d been in his own little world, he really hadn’t given much thought to anyone else.

  Like that’s anything new?

  He worked within the town’s noise ordinance and at this time of year, he really didn’t think many people were living at the beach full-time. Sure, Magnolia Sound wasn’t exactly a vacation hot spot, but most of the big houses on the beach weren’t lived in year-round.

  Lesson learned.

  Carefully, Austin sat down beside her and waited for Mia to acknowledge him.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  He cleared his throat and that did the trick because at least she turned her head toward him.

  “I’m sorry the noise is bothering you,” he said, his own voice low and apologetic. “I didn’t think anyone was living here in the off-season and I should have checked, so…again, I’m sorry.”

  She nodded.

  Maybe after her little outburst she was out of things to say, he thought.

  “What hours do you work?” he asked, hoping they could come to some sort of agreement so he could do what he had to do without disrupting her too much. “I can try to keep the power tool time to when you’re away at the office or…wherever you work.”

  “I work here,” she said after a moment.

  “Oh. Uh…do you have set hours or something?”

  “No.”

  Man, she wasn’t going to give an inch, was she?

  Raking a hand through his hair, Austin hissed out a breath as he began to lose his patience. Standing, he paced away from her. “You saw the inside of the house. It’s not like I can’t use tools, so…if you’re not going to be reasonable…”