When Love Strikes (Love On The North Shore Book 6)
When Love Strikes
Love On The North Shore
Christina Tetreault
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Other Books By Christina Tetreault
Welcome Letter
Prologue
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
About Christina
When Love Strikes, ©2019 by Christina Tetreault
Published by Christina Tetreault
Cover Designer: Amanda Walker
Editing: Hot Tree Editing
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—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. For more information on the author and her works, please see www.christinatetreault.com
Digital ISBN: 978-1-7329429-2-9
Other Books By Christina Tetreault
*Loving The Billionaire, a novella
*The Teacher’s Billionaire
*The Billionaire Playboy
*The Billionaire Princess
*The Billionaire’s Best Friend
*Redeeming The Billionaire
*More Than A Billionaire
*Protecting The Billionaire
*Bidding On The Billionaire
*Falling For The Billionaire
*The Billionaire Next Door
*The Billionaire’s Homecoming
*The Billionaire’s Heart
+The Courage To Love
+Hometown Love
+The Playboy Next Door
+In His Kiss
+A Promise To Keep
+When Love Strikes
^Born To Protect
*The Sherbrookes of Newport Series
+Love On The North Shore Series
^Elite Force Security Series
Dear Reader,
Welcome to North Salem, Massachusetts, the setting for this series. Some of you may have visited before, but if not please let me tell you a little about it.
Located forty minutes outside of Boston, it is in a part of the state referred to as the North Shore. North Salem is a close-knit New England town that few people leave. While such camaraderie can be wonderful, especially in times of need, it also means everyone knows each other’s business, and squabbles that pop up in high school sometimes continue for years.
Despite the occasional gossip and minor squabbles, North Salem is a wonderful place. I hope you come to love the town and its citizens as much as I do.
Happy Reading,
Christina
Prologue
Not long after moving to town the previous year, Dakota had mapped out four different routes for his weekly runs. Although they all covered three miles, he found varying his runs helped make this particular form of exercise less monotonous. Today’s route took him past the town schools and several of the local businesses in North Salem. As he turned onto Grove Street, his mind wasn’t on the music coming through his earbuds but the swim he intended to take once he got home. Unfortunately, it’d have to be a quick swim. He wanted to put the second coat of paint on the upstairs bedroom so he could move on to something else.
Dakota waved at Aidan Thomas, a North Salem police officer who was outside mowing his lawn, when he passed by but didn’t stop to talk. When a sedan pulled into the driveway of a house farther down the street with a For Sale sign out front, he slowed down. From here he could only see her profile, but the passenger in the car looked like his friend’s wife. Sean and Mia had a gorgeous Queen Anne-style home in town, one Sean had spent countless hours renovating. It made little sense for Mia to be looking at another house.
Dakota reached the driveway as both of the car’s occupants exited. The moment the passenger turned, he realized his mistake. The woman in the car wasn’t Mia but her younger sister, Angie. One afternoon in April, while Sean helped him install the new molding around the windows in a bedroom, he’d mentioned Angie was looking to buy a house in town. If Angie and a real estate agent were here, this must be one she was considering.
“Dakota, hi.” She waved and smiled as he approached the car. “How have you been?”
He’d last seen her in early May. He’d gone over to shoot pool with Sean and Tony, and she’d been there. Whenever Angie visited, she stayed with her sister and brother-in-law. And since Mia and Sean’s wedding the previous fall, her visits had become more and more frequent. According to Sean, she’d decided it would be better if she had a place of her own in North Salem so she didn’t need to intrude on them.
In his opinion, buying a house so she had a place to stay when she visited was extravagant. There was a bed-and-breakfast in town, not to mention plenty of hotels within a half-hour drive of North Salem. If either Sean or his wife shared his opinion, neither ever said.
“Good. You?” She looked amazing. Then again, she did every time he saw her. More importantly, she was always friendly despite her celebrity status.
“Busy, but good. We’ve been looking at houses all morning, and we have a few more after this one.”
If it had been in his budget when he’d been looking at homes, he would’ve added this one to his list even though it was much larger than he needed. Even the house he owned was bigger than a single guy needed.
“Will you be in town much longer?” They knew each other well enough to talk like they were now, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better. If she stayed in North Salem until Mia had the baby, he might be able to do that.
Angie frowned as she shook her head. “I wish I could be. I’d love to be here when Mia has the baby. But I’m flying out to Italy on Monday, and I’ll be there for about a month finishing up a movie.”
Considering she was off to Italy, a place he’d love to visit again, she didn’t sound very excited. Of course, she was going for work not pleasure. Twice he’d traveled to Hawaii and Puerto Rico, once for work and once on a vacation. Somehow being there for work had diminished his enjoyment of the areas despite the beautiful locations.
The real estate agent cleared her throat, a sign she was eager to get going.
“Have a safe trip. I’ll see you later.”
Angie watched Dakota until he turned the corner. If she didn’t have several more houses to look at after this one, she would’ve asked him to meet her for a coffee later. She’d noticed him at her sister’s wedding. Thanks to his incredible smile and something she couldn’t put her finger on, Dakota stood out in a crowd. Between the short interactions she’d had with him and what her sister told her about him, he came across as a nice man, and it’d been a long time since she had a nice guy in her life. Unfortunately, she couldn’t pursue a relationship with Dakota or anyone else in town right now. Next week the studio expected her on the set in Rome, and she’d be there u
ntil well into the summer.
No longer able to admire Dakota’s retreating form, she turned toward Olivia. She’d reached out to the local real estate agent in early April after deciding it was time to get a place near her sister. Over the past couple months, she’d looked at several homes and even talked to a local contractor about building one in the new development located off Blueberry Court. Except for one, each had been beautiful, and any of them would’ve sufficed. But none had felt right. She couldn’t explain it, and she’d certainly tried. Deep down, she knew when she found the right house, she’d know.
“As you can see, the house was built in 1820, and it is listed with the National Register of Historic Places.” Olivia pointed toward the plaque on the front of the house. “The property has been on the market for almost a year, and the owners are eager to sell. They’ve already purchased a place in Florida.”
Olivia unlocked the front door and preceded her inside. “On this level, there are five rooms and a half bath. Upstairs you will find four bedrooms. The master has its own bathroom while the other three share one. There are also two small rooms in the attic and another small bathroom.”
She’d read over the information regarding the house last night and checked out the pictures included in the listing, so she had a good idea of what to expect when she walked inside. What she wasn’t expecting was the little voice in her head telling her this was the one before she even stepped in a single room.
The pictures on the internet didn’t do the place justice. They didn’t pick up the tiny details throughout the home, the type of details that rarely showed up in houses built today. The only two drawbacks she found as she walked through were the lack of showers and the dreadful kitchen, but an interior designer could correct both areas and a few other little things she’d like to see changed.
Angie followed the real estate agent back down the stairs leading up to the attic. The rooms up there were not even half the size of the other bedrooms, and she couldn’t imagine using one as a bedroom herself. Forget about the bathroom. A person could sit on the toilet and brush their teeth at the same time, the room was so small. “I think this might be the one.”
“Do you still want to look at the other houses on the list?”
“It doesn’t hurt to look.” They had the time, so they might as well. However, she didn’t expect any of them would feel as right as this one.
Chapter One
Six Weeks Later
The closer Dakota Smith got to town, the more at ease he became. No matter the type of day he’d had at work, this happened every time he returned home at night. It was the main reason he’d moved to North Salem after living just outside of Boston for two years. Tonight, more than any other night in recent months, he needed the peace being in town always brought him.
He’d been an FBI agent for almost seven years, first in Albany and now in Boston, and he’d seen a lot of things—things most people didn’t even want to witness in their nightmares. Regardless, some people and situations still kicked him in the ass. The combined search and arrest warrant he’d helped execute today had done just that. Even now as he headed down Main Street, he wished he could scrub away the memories of what he’d seen, the same way he’d washed away the smell of cigarette smoke from his body when he got back to the office.
After turning onto Fender Drive, Dakota took a right into the parking lot for Peggy Sue’s Café. He’d been up since three this morning, and the adrenaline rush he always experienced before and during an arrest had long since evaporated. If he had any hope of making it past seven tonight, he needed a double espresso. Any other night he wouldn’t care about staying awake. He lived alone. No one cared what time he called it a night or got up in the morning. Unfortunately, hitting the hay the moment he walked into the house tonight wasn’t an option.
Long before he’d known about today’s big arrest, he’d agreed to host this month’s poker game. He’d attended several games since his move to town, but this evening’s would be the first time he’d hosted one. Even if it weren’t the first time, the game was at his house; he wouldn’t want to cancel on everyone at the last minute.
The scent of coffee and fresh baked goods hit Dakota the moment he walked inside the popular coffee shop. Regardless of the time, Peggy Sue’s was rarely empty. Tonight was no different. Although approaching dinnertime, most of the tables inside were occupied, and a short line of customers stood at the counter waiting to place their orders.
“Dakota, I haven’t seen you in weeks. How are you?” Mrs. Mitchell inquired as he approached her table.
If he had to guess, he’d say the friendly widow was in her early nineties. Despite her advanced age, she still lived alone. Actually, her house was only down the street from him. And when she wasn’t spending time at the senior center doing yoga or reading to young children at the library, she was keeping up to date on all the town news and gossip. If a person wanted to know what was going on, all they needed to do was talk to Mrs. Mitchell.
He didn’t have a lot of time to waste, but not stopping to talk with the older woman was impossible. Something about her grandmotherly personality made even the grumpiest person in town stop and chat with her, no matter how much of a rush they were in.
“You haven’t been sick, have you? My friend’s grandchildren were both diagnosed with bronchitis last week. I couldn’t believe it when she told me. Apparently, several children at their summer camp have it,” she continued, making it impossible for him to answer her previous question.
“I’m fine, just busy. How are you?”
Inquiring into Mrs. Mitchell’s well-being could be a dangerous endeavor, a fact he’d learned the hard way during an encounter while grocery shopping. Instead of getting a short two- or three-sentence answer, he’d ended up standing in the bread aisle with her for close to half an hour. Hopefully, today she’d give him the condensed version of whatever was on her mind so he could get going.
“Wonderful. My granddaughter is moving in with me in about another week. She accepted a new position in Boston and is going to live with me for the foreseeable future. Even with the increase in salary, she hasn’t been able to find anything affordable closer to the city.”
He understood that well. Although not the most expensive city in the country, the housing costs in and around Boston were high. When he’d transferred from the office in Albany to the one in Boston three years ago, he’d lived in a one-bedroom apartment, and his rent each month equaled what he was now paying for a mortgage on a three-bedroom home with half an acre of land. Not to mention his monthly rent hadn’t included the fee he’d paid to park his car and motorcycle.
“You must be looking forward to having the company.” Between work and friends, he didn’t spend a lot of time alone. Despite the fact that Mrs. Mitchell kept herself busy during the day, he imagined she got lonely at night. And as far as he’d seen, she rarely went out in the evening. At least every time he drove by her home, her car was in the driveway and the lights were on inside.
Mrs. Mitchell nodded and reached for her purse hanging over the back of her chair. “When Trisha gets settled, you’ll have to stop by and meet her. She’s around your age.” After searching around in her purse, she pulled out her cell phone. “This is us on Memorial Day.”
She held the phone toward Dakota, leaving him no other option than to accept the device.
He glanced at the picture of the smiling women. Despite the age difference between Mrs. Mitchell and her granddaughter, there was no missing the family resemblance.
Before he replied, he considered his words. Telling the woman her granddaughter was pretty wouldn’t be a lie, because she was. At the same time, Mrs. Mitchell’s previous comments gave him the impression she was thinking about setting him up with her granddaughter. Although not opposed to having a special woman in his life, he didn’t want someone fixing him up. He’d let his mom do it once, and it had turned into a major headache.
Dakota handed back the device. “It
’s a great picture of the two of you.”
“I had it made into an eight-by-ten so I could frame it.” She deposited the cell phone back into her purse.
He stayed and chatted with the woman for a few more minutes before joining the line at the counter and getting the double espresso he desperately needed.
An hour and a half later, Dakota was in the process of paying the delivery guy for the pizzas when Mack and his wife pulled into his driveway. Since they lived just up the street from him, across from St. Mark’s Church, Mack usually walked over when he visited. And he’d spent plenty of time at the house helping with renovations. If it hadn’t been for Mack and the other friends he’d made since moving to town, the house would still be the wreck he’d walked into almost a year ago, having made the mistake of buying a foreclosed home without seeing the inside—a mistake Dakota would never make again. Tonight it made sense that Mack and Jessie drove over despite the short distance between their homes. Jessie was pregnant with twins, and while he didn’t remember her exact due date, he knew it was in about another three weeks.
“Thanks for hosting tonight,” Jessie said, entering the house.
It’d been about a week and a half since he’d last seen her, but his friend’s wife looked like she’d doubled in size since then.
“Grace and I made double chocolate chip brownies this afternoon.” She held up a plastic container. “She insisted we make two batches so she could take some to her sleepover tonight at her cousin’s and we could bring some here.”
Anyone who’d ever seen Grace and Jessie together would assume they were mother and daughter. Jessie treated Grace as if she was her biological child rather than her stepdaughter. And Grace gave no indication that she thought of Jessie as anything other than another mom. He’d never seen Grace interact with her birth mother, but according to Mack, Grace and Jessie bond’s was far stronger than the one the young girl had with his ex-wife.