Searose Cove 1 - Never Say Love

Never Say Love Eve Kasey Copyright © 2023 by Eve Kasey All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, companies, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book contains explicit sexual content and language that is intended for mature, adult audiences only. To the people who chose the library over the playground or never felt like they fit in. I hope you know that you are—and always have been—magic. Author’s Note While this book is a romantic comedy and adventure story as well as a reimagining of a beloved 1980s film, the book also touches on some heavier themes. If any of the topics below will have a negative impact on your mental health, please consider setting the book aside. Take care of yourself. Content warnings: Strong language, on-page sexual activity, divorce, the murder of George Floyd, racial tension, Chinese Exclusion. Prologue The Past The acrid smell of wood in flames coated his tongue. He could barely breathe, but he couldn’t stop. The shouts were growing closer. Soon they’d realize he’d gotten away. Soon he’d be found. There was no true escape. The man knew that. He hurried through his task, fingers bleeding, mangled by rusted metal and rough wood as he desperately attempted to cover up what they’d done. Fear pumped through his veins, pounding so hard in his eardrums that the screams seemed more distant than they were. A brief whiff of the sea steeled his nerves. There was no one left to finish this task. He was alone, but not for long. Tears tracked down his sooty cheeks as he shoved the last of it in place. He could only pray to the gods that the treasure would stay safe after he was found. He’d done what he could. They all had. There was no time—no point—to dwell on the pain or the injustice of it all. His tools dropped from shaking hands. Looking around through stinging eyes, the man sought something—anything—that would allow him to pass on this secret. Someone must know. Someone must right the wrongs. The alternative could not even be considered. There wasn’t much around, precisely why the man had chosen the desolate spot. But through the dark, his gaze settled on an item that just might work. Yes. That would do. Resignation settled in his heart. His main task was complete, and the next was at hand. He had to leave a trail, and then he had to leave this place so he could hide the clue. Give himself up. Otherwise, the secret would die with him. With aching fingers, the man picked up the materials and began to write. Chapter 1 The Present Having a crush was the weirdest thing. Most days, she was badass Bea Taylor, owner of Searose Cove’s best brewery, as voted by residents and visitors and one beer blog in nearby Portland. Creating staff schedules, organizing the board game shelf, washing dishes, overseeing distribution, tweaking recipes. No task was beneath her, no job too difficult. Unless Montgomery Poe was in the building. Then she was a klutzy mess who dropped glasses and over-pulled pints and ran into columns that had been there since the 1800s. The thick timber posts, scarred with age and use, had been one of her favorite features when she’d first walked through the old warehouse a decade ago. Now they were a death trap. Bea couldn’t afford more shattered glassware or broken toes. She had bigger problems than how she felt about hot historians with old-fashioned names. From behind the bar, she threw a glance at the man, alone as usual in his favored high back chair, book open in his lap. Poe had claimed that cozy corner when he’d arrived in town three months ago as the new director of Searose Cove’s history museum. Heat broke out on her cheeks when she noticed that his pint glass was nearly empty. She could bring him another Fratelli IPA, but then she’d be at risk of embarrassing herself again. Or worse. Her toes flexed in her sneakers. The door to Copperpot Brewing blew open and stuck, caught in the wind. “Son of a bitch!” Nuan Zhang appeared, her giant purse sliding off her shoulder as she struggled to close the stubborn door behind her. Bea watched, amused. “I give up,” the tiny woman growled. She snatched her purse from the ground and stomped toward the bar. Truffle, Bea’s chocolate lab, who’d been snoozing near her feet, jumped up with a happy yip at their friend’s voice. He took off around the bar, winding himself around Nuan’s legs. “How’s my Truffle?” she cooed, crouching down to scratch his ears. Digging into her Mary Poppins bag, she unearthed a pig’s ear, of all things, and handed it to the dog. “There you go. Have a field day.” The lab trotted back to Bea, who gave him a brief back rub. Nuan sat down at the bar with a blustery sigh, plopping her giant bag on the counter. Without being asked, Bea poured her a taster size of Pinchers of Peril Lager, the lightest beer on the menu. “How was the meeting?” Bea asked, stomach taking its familiar dive. Nuan sipped her beer, lips pressed thin. “Same old. It was just missing the ‘Sponsored by Estrada Development’ banner. The woman brought cupcakes to a public meeting, for God’s sake. You’d think the town council could see through the bribery, but they were, like, giddy.” “What kind of cupcakes?” Bea asked. Nuan scowled. “Are you serious?” “What?” she defended. “Red velvet, you hopeless sugar fiend.” Bea’s mouth watered. “Red