Page 25 of Love Like Ours

Chapter Eight

The day after he was sick, he jumped back into his work schedule full force, trying to catch up on the missed work. By the time he parked at his cabin that evening, his body was sore and his stomach growled loudly.

He knew that Loki would want his walk before food and, even though he ached everywhere, he strolled slowly down the beach in the light rain as the dog ran everywhere collecting sticks.

When they returned home, he heated up a frozen dinner and sat on the sofa and watched the news.

After he’d showered and crawled into bed, he realized just how lonely he and Loki were. Why hadn’t he felt it before now? Was this really how he’d spent the last few years of his life? Alone?

How had he managed? Why?

Sure, he’d gone out on a few dates over the years. None had ever ended up going anywhere.

It was strange. He’d been exhausted most of the day, but now, lying in bed with Loki snoring beside him, he was wide awake and thinking about Sophia. How he wished he could call her and talk to her, if only to hear her voice and to find out how it had gone the day before at the lighthouse.

He glanced at the late hour and groaned. She was most likely fast asleep at this time.

He rolled over and punched his pillow. Loki glanced up at him before groaning loudly and lying back down.

“Sorry, buddy.” He forced his eyes closed at the same time his phone chimed.

He rolled back over and smiled at his brother’s message.

“I forgot to tell you. You’ve been requested to visit the Pride lighthouse tomorrow first thing. Client requested you by name. Way to go, little brother!”

The next morning, the air was thick with mist as he navigated his truck up the winding road towards the lighthouse. The fog clung to the rocky cliffs to his left, and the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a rhythmic backdrop. He parked his truck and grabbed a brown paper bag holding freshly baked scones and the steaming cups of coffee that he’d picked up from the bakery on his way over.

He could just make out the silhouette of the lighthouse in the thick fog. The light was circling around, warning approaching ships of the cliffs. Palmer was in awe of the sheer size of the place as he approached the house part of the building.

Max stood, leaning casually against the doorway, his sharp silver eyes sizing Palmer up as he moved towards him.

Palmer cleared his throat as he approached, holding up the bag and coffee like a peace offering. “Morning,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet of the morning.

Max’s expression was unreadable at first, but a flicker of amusement crossed his face when he saw the offering.

“Palmer Clark, the handyman who also delivers coffee and baked goods,” he joked.

Palmer grinned, handing over one of the cups of coffee. “Figured it was the least I could do.” He shifted his weight awkwardly.

Max took the coffee and scone, studying Palmer with a measured gaze. “For what? Stealing Sophia out from under me?”

Palmer winced and nodded, but deep inside he was thankful that Sophia had obviously told the man about them. “Something like that.”

Max chuckled, the sound low and dry. “Relax. Sophia was never really mine to lose. And if I’m being honest, I think you two make sense. Even if it’s a little annoying.” He sighed as he looked through the fog towards the lighthouse.

Palmer raised an eyebrow. “Annoying?” Palmer laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Max took a sip of the coffee and nodded in approval. “This is good. Almost makes up for the fact that I’m standing out here in the freezing fog. Almost.”

Palmer took a sip of his own coffee, the two of them staring out at the obscured view. “So, what do you have in mind for this place?”

Max’s smirk returned. “A lot.”

“Why don’t we have a look around and you can tell me. I’ll work out a budget and, if need be, draw up some plans.”

“Sounds good.” Max nodded. “First things first. I want to restore and preserve as much as I can.”

Palmer considered this, his gaze shifting to the weathered structure behind them. “Hope you have a big bank account. From what I remember the last time I looked at her, without the fog,” he added quickly, “she’s in desperate need of a lot of work. They covered her with paint, but her bones are very old.”