Read Online Summer Rental by Mary Kay Andrews - Free Book Online

an old high school buddy, Frank, who had gone into his father’s pest control business over in Elizabeth City. After some idle chatter about prospects for Carolina football (sorry) and the economy (way sorrier), Frank promised to head over to Ebbtide for a little bug-bombing session that afternoon. They even worked out a trade: Frank would provide pest control services for three months in return for a week’s vacation at Ebbtide.
    Ty didn’t have to tell Frank money was tight; Frank knew about the jam he’d gotten himself into. Hell, everybody on the Outer Banks knew that Ty Bazemore was in a world of hurt. The first foreclosure notice for Ebbtide had been published in the newspaper in July, and every week since, the notice had run in the paper’s legal ads, rubbing salt into his already wounded ego. Six weeks. That’s how much time he had to pull off a miracle. Until then, he needed to keep his tenants happy and, somehow, raise enough money to catch up on six months’ worth of missed house payments and back taxes.
    But it wouldn’t do to let Ellis Sullivan get the upper hand. So he fired off a missive of his own.
    To: [email protected]
    From: [email protected]
    Subject: Alleged fleas.
    Ms. Sullivan, if the house has fleas, you must have brought them with you. Likewise the ants. I’ve never had complaints before, about bugs or the mattresses. But Frank from Bug-Off Pest Control will be out today, after 2 pm. You’ll have to vacate the premises for at least two hours, unless you enjoy inhaling toxic fumes. If you don’t like my dishes, there’s a Walmart in Kitty Hawk. I’ll send somebody to take a look at the faucet. Happy?
    Through the open door, he could hear the waves rolling into shore. He could stand it no more. He got up and strolled out to the porch.
    The women of Ebbtide had pitched camp on a stretch of sand directly below. They had a jaunty striped pink-and-yellow umbrella, three lounge chairs, and a large cooler. The brunette, Ellis, and a tall, elegant blonde were playing Pro Kadima, inexpertly slapping the little rubber ball around, dashing back and forth in the sand, laughing hysterically.
    The blonde was a knockout, with long, slender bronzed legs and a bright orange bikini that left little to the imagination.
    The third woman was a petite strawberry blonde. She was stretched out in her chair, a pair of sunglasses perched on her little snub nose, reading a magazine. Even the loose-fitting sleeveless cover-up she wore over her swimsuit couldn’t disguise a body that was luscious—and that was a word Ty didn’t just throw around. Her pale, freckled skin was already turning pink, and it wasn’t yet noon.
    But it was Ellis, pain-in-the-ass Ellis, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of. She’d knotted her long hair in a goofy ponytail on top of her head, emphasizing the graceful curve of her long neck. Her modest, black one-piece bathing suit should not have been alluring, but somehow it was—the high cut legs showed off her great butt, the scoop neckline revealed a promising amount of creamy cleavage. And when she ran, as she was doing now, looking like a total klutz, the suit rode up in the back and down in the front, giving him a rewarding view.
    Ellis Sullivan was not by any means the hottest thing he’d ever seen on this stretch of beach. That honor, he thought, ironically, would have to go to Kendra, whom he’d first spotted the summer they were fifteen, as she did a slow, taunting stroll past him while he painted his grandmother’s Adirondack chairs on this same deck. He found himself scowling at the memory of that day.

    *   *   *
    Dorie had promised herself she’d go for a swim at exactly 11 A . M . She ran and dove into the waves, letting them take her out and under, again and again. The water was wonderful. She floated on her back and looked up at the clouds, trying to force herself to empty her cluttered mind and think of … absolutely nothing.
    But the worries