Certain things annoy Ian Flynn to no end - kids, dogs, old women, and a woman with an agenda. Now he's landed smack in the middle of them all. And to make matters worse, Lucy Mitchell's agenda is to rid Butternut Creek of him. Not that it matters, she isn't going to get her way. But just as he is preparing to allow her to flex her powers of persuasion, a tragedy turns his world upside down.
Moonlight Bay Camp for Kids is Lucy's safe haven. Now, the camp is being threatened and she isn't about to stand still for it. But what can a small town girl do against big city money and a big city ego? Turns out, quite a bit.
Let the games begin!
Tess Morrison weaves her stories from her northern Wisconsin home surrounded by gardens and forest on an antique table she found in the back of her barn. When not writing she can be found in the garden or cooking in the kitchen, dancing to the classic rock channel, or wandering around her beautiful state.
Ian is beginning to understand just what it is he's come up against when he messed with Lucy Mitchell's world.
“You, again. Well, you’ve won, you know. For now.” Lucy’s foul mood just sank a few degrees further toward the abyss of pure, unadulterated self-pity. She was still reeling from her meeting with Lida. Poor Lida. And now this. Seeing him standing there by the side of the road sent her blood to boil. She was sad and angry and needed someone to blame. Lo and behold, someone appeared in the form of Ian Flynn, and blame him, she did.
“Hello, Miss Mitchell. Good to see you again.” Mr. Flynn flashed his perfect teeth her way and her temper soared to the surface. She had no doubt that he understood completely how upsetting the sale of the camp was to her. He was the very embodiment of that threat and he had the nerve to stand there smiling at her, hands on his hips, tall, confident, arrogant. In other circumstances she might find him quite appealing, sexy even. But not now, not today. She stopped before him, at a complete loss for words, civil words.
He looked at her quizzically. “I won? Well, it’s about time you admit that. Looking for something?”
She wasn’t buying the innocent mask on his chiseled face. How she wanted to slap that smug look into the next county.
Lucy targeted him with her eyes. “If I was, I wouldn’t need your help, that is if you’re offering. You’ve done plenty around here as it is.”
“Me? Why, I haven’t even gotten started.”
Lucy pointed a finger at his chin. “Is that a threat, Mr. Flynn? Because if it is, you’ll be sorry you came up against me, against all of Butternut Creek for that matter. I’ll make your name mud in this town. You can count on it.”
Before she could retreat, he engulfed her hand in his own. The massive size of his hand swallowed hers, only allowing the tip of the accusatory finger to stick out the opposite side. The amused expression upon his face angered and oddly thrilled her at the same time. Their eyes locked and an electrical jolt sizzled up her arm. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing quickened. She pulled once, then again, but he refused to free her hand.
“Now, now Ms. Mitchell, you don’t worry me in the least.” His voice was smooth, condescending. “There’s nothing you can do to stop what’s going to happen here. If you want a fight on your hands, you’ve got one, and I’ll win because, like it or not, I have the resources to win. Namely, Lida Duncan. So maybe it’s time you butt out, continue on whatever quest you’re on at the moment, and go play with the children. They need you, I don’t.”
“You can go straight to hell.” She yanked her captive hand once again but he held her fast, her fingers feeling the crush now.