Crowned and Moldering

Version_1

Contents

Praise

Other Books You May Enjoy

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Excerpt from Books of A Feather

For my father, James Carlisle Beaver Jr., contractor, storyteller, life of the party.

Chapter One

I gazed up at the neglected beauty and tingled with excitement. I was so ready to turn this old eyesore into the grand masterpiece it had once been.

The venerable lighthouse mansion was situated on a large tract of land surrounded by a once-lovely green lawn that had become overgrown and scruffy with crabgrass and brown weeds. A fine layer of sand covered the entire expanse, having been carried by the wind from the dunes that bordered the beach nearby.

The lighthouse tower stood a few yards away to the north of the house. To the west, the rough, rocky breakwater speared into the sea. Waves crashed and a fine mist of salt water was spewed in every direction.

“I love my job,” I murmured as I grabbed the thick roll of blueprints from the narrow backseat of my truck. I slammed the door shut and marched across the sprawling lawn.

The rough March wind gusting off the ocean lifted my mop of wavy red hair and blew it around until I couldn’t see straight. I finally had to stop at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the front porch or risk tripping on the steps. I set down the tool chest I was carrying and shoved the hair back off my face. And that’s when I beheld the wondrous sight before me at the top of the stairway.

MacKintyre Sullivan, world-famous, bestselling thriller writer and former Navy SEAL, stood with his arms crossed as he leaned against one of the smooth Doric columns that braced the roof covering the wide porch. The man looked for all the world like some handsome, dashingly entitled lord of the manor—if the lord of the manor happened to be an unrepentant pirate with a wicked smile and a gleam in his dark blue eyes.

Mac had moved to Lighthouse Cove, California, a few months ago and almost immediately looked into buying the famous mansion by the lighthouse. The purchase had to be approved by both the town Pla

“Those are the new blueprints?” Mac asked, pointing at the thick roll of papers in my hands. “So this is it? No more delays?”

“No more delays—I promise you.” I picked up my tool chest and made my way up the eight steps and onto the sturdy wooden porch. Flashing him a determined smile, I added, “And no more red tape from the Pla

He laughed, and I couldn’t blame him. It was still a source of deep embarrassment to me that a few weeks ago, I had spotted the little-bitty rodent skittering across the kitchen floor. With a shriek, I had dashed out of Mac’s kitchen and hadn’t stopped until I’d made it all the way across the wide lawn to my truck.

What can I say? Rats creep me out.

“Then we’re finally ready to get started.” He pushed away from the column and strolled toward me. “I’ve cleared my schedule for the next two weeks.”

“Perfect.” Because, to be honest, Mac’s busy schedule had also produced a number of holdups lately. Flying off to New York, meeting with editors, dining with agents, going on book tours. Deadlines. The world-famous writer was a busy man.

I recalled one more unhappy distraction that had occurred recently and prayed there would be no more funerals, please. We didn’t need anyone else dying in Lighthouse Cove. Besides being unbearably sad, the recent suspicious death of a dear friend had indeed thrown a shocking wrench into the schedule, causing yet more delays to Mac’s plans to start the renovation of his new home.

Another gust of wind rushed up from the ocean, but before it could whip my hair into a greater tangle of curls, I turned toward the wind and lifted my face to catch the mist.

“Man, I love it out here,” Mac said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his Windbreaker.

“It’s a good day.” Cold, windy, with dark clouds forming out on the horizon; there would be rain within a few hours. Still, it was wonderful to be here, ready to begin the job of rehabbing the most iconic house in Lighthouse Cove for the hunky Mac Sullivan.

I checked my watch, eager to begin. Once my guys and I finished going through the house with Mac, I would work out a schedule and make up a list of supplies and equipment we would need. And within a few days, my crew and I would start restoring this wonderful old Victorian to its former glory.

That was why Mac had hired me, after all. My name is Sha

“Wade and the guys should be here any minute,” I said, referring to my foreman, Wade Chambers, and two of my most reliable crew members, Sean Brogan and Joh

“In that case,” Mac said, “I’ll get this out of the way.” And with that, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

I didn’t protest. I should’ve, but instead I sighed and wrapped my arms around his neck, reveling in the warmth of his touch. This really was not a good idea. And I would put a stop to it any minute now.

A truck horn sounded out on the highway and I jolted and took a quick step backward. It took me a moment to catch my breath. “Uh, that must be the guys.”

Mac was smiling broadly as he let go of me. “Must be.”

I coughed softly, knowing the guys’ truck wouldn’t actually show up in front of Mac’s house for another minute or two. I just needed to give myself a few more seconds to recover from the unexpected kiss. “Hmm.”

He laughed and stroked my hair. “I’m crazy about you, Irish.”

I was kind of crazy about him, too. But since I was afraid of setting myself up for a fall, I gave him a weak smile and said nothing.

Mac and I had grown close over the past few months, since he’d moved to Lighthouse Cove. It helped that he’d rented the guest apartment over my garage and lived only a few yards away from me. We’d had a few late-night adventures while chasing down a killer and, yes, there had been a few kisses. I had hoped that maybe we’d grow closer and, well . . . Anyway, things got complicated the morning I saw him escorting a gorgeous blond supermodel out of his apartment. Ever since then I’d been rethinking the idea of getting involved with one of the most sought-after bachelor millionaires in the world.