Lost without You: A Single Dad Small Town Romance (Annapolis Harbor Book 2) Read online

  Lost without You

  Copyright © 2020 by Lea Meyer

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is greatly appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Editing by My Brother’s Editor

  Proofreading by Virginia Carey

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  Cover Design by Okay Creations

  Photography by Sara Eirew

  Table of Contents

  Books by Lea Coll

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Books by Lea Coll

  About the Author

  Books by Lea Coll

  All I Want Series

  Choose Me

  Be with Me

  Burn for Me

  Trust in Me

  Stay with Me

  Take a Chance on Me

  Annapolis Harbor Series

  Only with You

  Lost without You

  Perfect for You

  Crazy for You

  Boudreaux Universe Novel

  Easy Moves

  With Me in Seattle Universe Novella

  Lucky Catch

  Download a free novella, Swept Away, when you sign up for her newsletter.

  To learn more about her books, please visit her website.

  “Women belong in all places where decisions are being made.” Ruth Bader Ginsburg

  Chapter One

  Avery

  “I need to talk to someone about the investigation into my brother’s life insurance claim.”

  That voice came from the reception area. Deep, rumbly, it vibrated through my chest as I sat at my desk, sending tingly sensations through my body. Where had I heard that voice before?

  “I’m Dylan Gannon. I can help you.”

  My partner was manning the reception desk as we hadn’t hired anyone yet. From my office, I strained to hear her voice drifting down the hall from the reception area.

  “I want to see Avery Arrington.” His voice was louder and clearer this time.

  My heart skipped a beat that this man wanted to speak to me. His voice was familiar.

  “Of course. Do you know Avery?” Dylan asked.

  “I own this building.”

  Oh my God. The man I’d been going back and forth with for months about our lease was here, in my office. He was supposed to be living in California. We’d never met him. He’d sent a proxy, realtor Juliana Breslin, to handle the lease documents originally, and he’d been angry when there was a mistake in the lease with lower rent than he’d wanted. It set off a tsunami of phone calls between me as the managing attorney and him. When I dug in, citing it was a valid contract, he switched gears, wanting us gone when our lease was up.

  Why would he come to us for any kind of help? What was he doing in town? Was this some kind of trick?

  “Oh. You’re the landlord.” I couldn’t tell from Dylan’s reaction if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Was he more or less intimidating in person? On the phone, he spoke like a man used to getting his own way.

  “Have a seat. I’ll see if Avery is in.”

  Dylan knew I was in, but she was giving me an out. The question was, should I take it, or should I give into the desire to see the man behind the voice? The one that seemed to haunt me in my dreams.

  “I’ll wait here.” His voice was firm.

  Of course he’d insist on standing in a certain place, demanding a particular attorney. He may be used to getting what he wanted, but I wouldn’t give in to him.

  When we’d talked on the phone, my heart pounded while I tried to sound like the educated, confident attorney I was, but in my dreams, that same voice said other things to me, like you’re so beautiful, your skin is so soft, I want you on your knees, against the wall, any way I can have you. I wanted to give that voice anything and everything he wanted.

  I drew in a shaky breath. I couldn’t think of that sexy voice and my dreams when the man was in my office wanting to talk to me.

  Dylan stood in a navy suit in my doorway, her long blonde hair pulled into a low bun, an uncertain look on her face. She lowered her voice. “Griffin Locke is here. You know, our landlord.”

  “I heard. What does he want?” I kept my voice low, worried he’d hear our conversation.

  She stepped farther into my office, shutting the door almost all the way. “He said he has a life insurance claim that’s being investigated.”

  I gestured around my small office. “Why would he come here for help?”

  Dylan chuckled. “I have no idea.”

  “Dylan. Griffin Locke is here in our office. He’s going to see our new sign, the paint, the shelves, the new carpet.” My voice was rising in my panic. We’d renovated without his approval. He wanted us gone, not making improvements to stay longer. We needed to upgrade the space to look professional. I was fairly certain that excuse would hold up in a court of law. We hadn’t caused damage or made things worse, but as angry as he’d been about the lease, he certainly wasn’t going to appreciate the walls being changed to taupe without his consent. He’d have no problem telling me that.

  Whether I’d be able to stand strong against Griff and his voice was another matter altogether.

  “You should have gotten his permission,” Dylan hissed.

  My eyes narrowed on her, annoyed she’d pointed out something I already knew. “You should have handled Griffin from the beginning. Out of all of us, you’re the people person. You could have charmed him.”

  Dylan placed her hands on her hips, continuing to whisper fight, “You’re the managing attorney. It’s your job to handle the landlord.”

  “I know. I guess I should see what he wants.” Resigned, my statement sounded more like a question. I wiped my sweaty hands on my skirt.

  I wanted to match the voice with a face so badly I’d risk almost anything to meet him.

  She turned to leave. “I’ll send him in.”

  I stood. “No. Send him to the conference room.”

  I didn’t want him in my personal space, looking at my pictures, analyzing me, finding me lacking.

  “Good luck.” She emphasized each word, tempering it with a smile, before leaving.

  I
took a few seconds to get myself together, grabbing a legal pad and pen before heading to our only conference room.

  Through the glass door, I could see Griffin Locke seated, his broad back facing me. I took one more deep breath before pulling it open to walk inside.

  He stood to his full height, his shoulders back, chest out, chin high as he turned to face me. His sharp blue eyes scanning me from head to toe, his legs wide, his arms held loosely at his sides. Whatever he saw caused his lip to curl. “Avery Arrington?”

  “That’s me.” The me squeaked out. I was usually socially awkward, finding it difficult to say the right thing, but whenever I’d spoken on the phone with him, he brought something out in me. Where was that sass when he was standing in front of me, his voice an exact match to his handsome face and body?

  He was sexy. Dark hair, assessing blue eyes, his lifted chin lined with delicious scruff. His body took up all the space in the room, making it difficult to draw in a deep breath.

  I held my hand out to him, hoping it wasn’t shaking. “Avery Arrington, and you’re Griffin Locke. The one I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with on the phone.”

  He didn’t respond verbally, wrapping my hand in a firm grip. It wasn’t crushing like he was overcompensating for something, more like he was sure of himself. Confident. I liked it. It made him more attractive.

  “Have a seat.” I turned away from him to sit at the head of the table, carefully placing the legal pad and pen in front of me. “Dylan said you wanted to see me.”

  He swallowed, the first sign of discomfort I’d noticed from him. It made him more than a voice over the phone, it made him human.

  “My brother—” He paused as if drawing strength, a vulnerability passing so quickly over his features before he masked it, I thought I’d imagined it. “My brother, Julian, died six months ago. It was an accident, an unfortunate accident. I was supposed to—The facts are that he was alone on his boat. It was windy and he drowned. The insurance company is investigating it as a possible suicide.”

  Something about his vulnerability in that moment softened my heart toward him. “I’m so sorry about your brother.”

  “Thank you,” he said stiffly.

  “May I?” I gestured at the paperwork he gripped.

  He handed the pile to me. I could do this. I could focus on the legal aspects of the case and ignore the way his strong hands rested on the table between us. I reviewed them quickly, the facts of the accident, the beneficiary, a minor named Declan Locke, and the custodian for the minor, Griffin Locke. “Are you caring for your nephew?”

  Griffin was silent until I glanced up from the paperwork.

  “I am. Yes.” His lips were pressed together in a slight grimace.

  Was he struggling to come to terms with the sudden acquisition of a child? He didn’t seem like a man who took unexpected developments in stride. “This document indicates you’re the custodian for his life insurance. Were you named his financial guardian in the will?”

  “I was.”

  “Were you named his physical guardian?”

  “Yes.” He shifted in his chair, his gaze sliding from mine to the wall behind me.

  His body language was conflicted. I’d only known him for a few minutes, but I knew he was out of his element. “You don’t want to be his guardian?”

  “I can handle the financial matters, but I can’t be the one—” His eyes were filled with anguish.

  In the scenarios I dreamed of meeting Griffin Locke, this wasn’t it. One where he needed me. One where he was at a loss.

  My heart sunk a little when he’d admitted he couldn’t care for his nephew. Why had he come to me? Surely he had attorneys on speed dial with the way he handled business transactions. When we’d researched, we discovered he was a successful business owner of a software start-up company.

  “Declan’s in my care, but I’m exploring every option. His mother, Erin Whesker, left when he was a baby. As far as I know, she hasn’t contacted him since. He has grandparents who may be able to care for him. They don’t live nearby but they’re a better choice.”

  Any respect I had for him diminished. Was he reluctant to take in his nephew because he didn’t like children or because he was too busy to care for him? “Yet your brother chose you. He didn’t discuss his designation with you when he wrote the will?”

  His expression was pensive. “No. I was unaware of his decision or the contents of his will.”

  I advised clients to get permission before naming guardians for this very reason. Not everyone was willing and able to care for children.

  He cleared his throat. “Julian took out this insurance policy to protect Declan. I want to make sure he gets what my brother wanted for him.”

  “Okay. We’ll focus on that. Can you tell me what happened?” It was my job to ask questions, to pry, but it didn’t make it any easier. This would be difficult for him.

  Griffin leaned his elbows on the table, shifting closer to me, but his gaze was on the wall across from him. “I was supposed to go out with him that day. Something came up and I couldn’t be there. He shouldn’t have gone out by himself.”

  My pen hovered over my legal pad but I couldn’t take my gaze from him. “Had he gone out by himself on other occasions?”

  “A few times. I always told him not to, but he wanted to go out on the water more than I was able to join him. Sometimes he went out with friends.”

  “Would you say he was an experienced sailor?”

  “He went out frequently. He knew his way around a boat.”

  I’d need to determine what kind of boat he owned, if he’d taken sailing lessons, safety courses, the weather conditions that day, any craft warnings. “Okay. I’ll need to research the conditions on the bay that day.”

  “A small craft advisory came up while he was out. He should have known that. There’s a radio on the boat.” Griffin’s jaw clenched.

  It sounded like he disapproved of Julian’s actions that day. If Griffin was experienced with boating, he might have some insight as to protocol. It’s what the insurance company would be investigating. “If you were with him and a small craft advisory came up, what would you have done?”

  “I would have made every effort to return to dock, drop sails, motor back, as would he.”

  “Was there a police investigation?” I struggled to keep things professional, not allow feelings of sympathy to overwhelm me.

  “There was a police report.” He pulled the report out of a folder, pushing it across the table toward me.

  I reviewed it quickly to make sure there was no new information included. Satisfied there wasn’t, I took a deep breath, preparing myself to ask the tougher question. “Would you say your brother was suicidal? Did he have any mental health issues?”

  Griffin rested his elbows on the table, shaking his head. “No. None at all. He worked as a financial advisor at a firm in Baltimore. He kept his boat at a marina in Middle River. He cared for his son when Declan’s mother left. It must have been tough but he never said he couldn’t handle it. He wouldn’t leave his son.”

  Griffin was adamant Julian hadn’t taken his own life, but he lived in California. If Julian had mental health issues, he might not have known. I hoped Griffin was right. I wanted Declan to get whatever his father wanted for him. “The payout hasn’t officially been denied. They’re conducting an investigation into his death. I can contact the adjuster if you’d like me to handle this for you.”

  He sighed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” There wasn’t much for me to do except take this one task off his hands. I’d be the conduit between him and the insurance company.

  Griffin’s face was open, not how I’d ever imagined him. In my dreams, he was strong, dark, and broody. He didn’t ask for help. He demanded it. The evidence that he could be vulnerable felt like a tiny pinprick in my heart.

  He stood, heading for the door.

  I wasn’t ready for him to leave. I wanted to understand his
motives when we’d been adversaries from the beginning. “Griffin. Why did you ask me for help?”

  He faced me with a pained expression. “I moved to Maryland before Julian died.”

  “Okay.” Had he sold his business in California? Why had he moved back?

  “I live in the upstairs apartment. Since Julian died, I’m living in his house to keep Declan’s routine. I came this morning to get my mail. I saw the insurance letter and needed to talk to someone, your firm was here.”

  “You live upstairs?” Griffin Locke had lived in the same building for months. We’d thought the apartment was empty. It was always quiet. The stairs to the apartment were in the back of the building, so we wouldn’t necessarily have noticed if someone moved in.

  “Yes.”

  “I hadn’t realized.”

  “I only lived there a month before he died. I have a child to care for and now this.” He ran his fingers through his hair, gesturing at the paperwork resting on the table.

  “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” I never thought I’d be the one comforting Griffin. I’d worried if he ever showed up in the office, he’d have a problem with the improvements we’d made but he didn’t seem to notice his surroundings.

  “Thank you.”

  “You might have other needs as well, the handling of the estate, guardianship, financial issues, property. If you need help with anything else, please let me know.”

  “I will.” His jaw was tight.

  The way he described things, he’d opened the mail, got upset, and needed help. Without thinking things through, he ended up at my office asking for me. I was convenient. Possibly the only local attorney he’d had contact with.