Snow is Falling, Cocoa is Calling! (The Coffee Loft Series: Fall Collection)

3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

MARCUS

M arcus Stirling checked the security cameras around the Hearst property, one by one, to ensure they were all working properly.

He loved being back at this family estate and in the dense woods, working at what he did best—surveillance.

So far, two cameras had stopped recording, and three others needed new batteries. Once he’d replaced the batteries and fastened two new cameras at strategic locations, he headed for the house to check the rest.

His best friend Logan, who was like a brother, was getting married in two days, and since Logan was high profile with a historically wealthy family as part of the Hearst legend, security was of the utmost importance.

Marcus was intrigued to meet Logan’s fiancée, too. Jenna was from New Orleans, which was interesting. Logan met Jenna Thornton two years earlier when he traveled there to meet investors in a new venture.

Logan told Marcus that on a whim, he had stopped at one of the Coffee Loft shops for a drink, and he and Jenna had instantly hit it off. By the time he had spent an hour drinking his double espresso to keep him awake for an evening meeting, they were joking and laughing like long-time friends.

Logan asked her out the next night for dinner.

Marcus wished it was that easy for him to meet new women. Despite trying, he hadn’t had a date in a year, but the women he met in the Santa Barbara or Los Angeles areas were too rich and spoiled for his tastes.

They were either wanna-be actresses who would do anything for a part in a commercial or movie, or they came from money and only talked about shopping or people in the Hollywood world they knew—or D.C. politicians.

His distaste for both made him incompatible with every woman he met at a party or event.

In contrast, although considered part of the nouveau riche, Logan’s parents had bought this secluded piece of property because of its beautiful oak, pine, and walnut trees. The old British surname of Hearst meant “woods or forest,” after all.

Of course, his best friend’s family was nothing like European royalty. William Randolph Hearst had become American royalty, like the Vanderbilts and the Astors, although he was a generation later than the original railroad tycoons of the late 19 th century.

Although Marcus didn’t come from the same world as Logan, they’d been friends since childhood, running wild on the property, building forts, making guns out of sticks, yelling like a commando during a battle. Their bond strengthened as they played football in high school and even took a few college classes together.

But after college graduation, he struck out on his own, joining the Navy and training to be a SEAL. Ten years later, he retired and started his own security firm, which he loved.

He had a nose for suspicious people or events and was like a hound dog, following the scent.

Despite being able to shimmy up an electric pole to install cameras and listening devices, he wore a suit when he was part of a big event—like meetings and weddings.

Today, there was no tree climbing going on. He had to be professional and in his best suit when guests arrived. And back to being just Logan’s best friend. Not the hired security.

Marcus lifted his head after he checked the final camera and synchronized it with the receiver inside the house.

Seconds later, he halted in his tracks. His phone was notifying him of movement at the front gate. Marcus quickly pulled up the feed for the camera in that location.

A suspicious vehicle—a Nissan SUV—had stopped before the double wrought-iron gates. The car crept forward, slowed again, and then stopped.

Suddenly a young woman shoved the driver door open and climbed out.

She was loitering much too long, and the hair on Marcus’s neck prickled. This one needed deeper investigation.

The woman glanced about, spinning on her high heels while looking back over her shoulder and down the road several times. Hm. Apparently, she was lost.

Consulting her phone, she tapped on it. Probably checking Google Maps.

Rechecking the road for oncoming traffic, she frowned, then stared pointedly at the double gates of the Hearst Estate.

Walking forward, she appeared to find the keypad and proceeded to enter a few numbers.

The gates began to open slowly, squeaking in the quiet afternoon silence. Marcus made a mental note to oil them. This woman obviously had the correct code, but nobody had told Marcus there was an arrival this afternoon.

She must be part of the wedding party. But Logan and Jenna’s wedding was still two days away. Maybe she was delivering wedding trappings or paraphernalia.

Perhaps a salesclerk with Jenna’s wedding gown? A wedding gift by special delivery? Normally, those came by courier, if not FedEx delivery.

Marcus silently watched her car maneuver the winding roads through the woods. He sprinted at times to keep up with her, his feet not making a sound on the soft dirt. Skirting the tree trunks, he remained out of sight while she passed.

She pulled around the circular drive and stopped.

A moment or two later, the woman stepped out of her car and shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun.

Marcus knew there was no one at home, but this woman didn’t know that.

He stopped behind a tree and continued to watch. Now that he was closer to the driveway, he pulled out a small pair of binoculars and adjusted the lens.

Her car was loaded with stuff.

She had the longest, silkiest mahogany brown hair he’d ever seen. It swayed in the mild afternoon breeze. She wore a dress and heels and carried a large handbag.

Was she a friend of Jenna’s? Since Jenna was in town that afternoon with Logan, Marcus assumed this woman had arrived unannounced.

Which meant he needed to keep an eye on her.

An unannounced guest not on the daily “list” was a person of interest. To watch, study, and intercept if necessary.

Slowly, Marcus moved forward, staying behind the trees but never taking his eyes off her.

The woman quirked her chin to the left—toward him—and her facial features came into view. He was startled to see how perfectly interesting she was: a perfect, straight nose, a generous mouth with ruby-red lips, and wispy bangs that drifted across startling cornflower blue eyes.

These new binoculars were terrific, with up-close and personal details .

Marcus sucked in a breath. She was absolutely beautiful. Not in a flashy “look, I’m a model” way, but with a natural, fresh beauty he normally didn’t see in Southern California, where women dressed to the nines and wore an inch of makeup, especially in Beverly Hills or downtown Santa Barbara.

Marcus let out a breath that turned into a low whistle. This woman had great legs and an hourglass figure. A tingling sensation ran down his neck, spreading throughout his limbs.

The young woman slowly turned in a circle to take in the estate, holding a hand over her eyes from the sun’s glare while she called out—twice.

She bit at those remarkable lips of hers and suddenly froze.

Marcus froze, too.

Without thinking, he’d stepped out from behind the tree where he’d been hiding. He was in full view of her now. He’d foolishly dropped his incognito self.

She gave a start, staggering backward while staring daggers at him.

He stared back, his limbs melting.

Hopefully, she couldn’t determine what he was doing in the woods.

From the expression on her face, he’d freaked her out. Hurriedly, she climbed into her vehicle and drove to the back of the house.

He’d not just startled her, he’d frightened her. He was a stranger, after all. Lurking in the woods while the entire Hearst family was in the village running errands.

Unfortunately, he’d updated the cameras on the estate too late. Logan had asked him a week ago since he wanted no trouble during the week of his wedding, and Marcus had only just now completed the task.

There had been prowlers on the video feed the previous month. The images appeared to be kids. He had yet to figure out how they got over a 12-foot wall or the gate. That was his next step. Find any breaches in the wall perimeter or any loose boards in the rear fence line behind the garages.

In the videos, the boys darted behind trees and climbed some of the older ones with low-hanging limbs. Perhaps they were playing hide-and-seek.

The Hearst Woods were the perfect spot. He and Logan had spent a lot of time enjoying adventures in their childhood days and even into their teens.

The rear grounds of the estate were just as good. The perfect place to get lost—mentally and hide out from the parents—until dinner time when their stomachs were growling so loud, they were convinced they would starve to death.

Logan would hold his stomach and moan, “I’m starving. ”

“ No , I’m starving!” Marcus would challenge. “What’s for dinner? Is Gus cooking tonight?”

“The grownups are having quiche Lorraine, red wine, and a healthy salad. That’s an exact quote from Gus to my mother. ”

“Yuck, do we have to eat the salad, too?” Marcus groaned.

“ We’re having hamburgers. Chips and sodas. At least, that was the order I put in for us. We’ll see if Mum gives in.” Then a sly grin would cross Logan’s face “She usually does when you’re visiting. Mum likes you.”

“She has to like me. I’m like her adopted son.”

Of course, that wasn’t true. Even though there was no relation, it often felt like they were brothers, and Marcus was at home here, as if he belonged.

Being careful not to be seen again, Marcus skirted the circular drive and moved carefully down the perimeter wall.

He’d been having an internal debate about whether he should approach the beautiful woman and talk to her, but finally decided to stay put so he didn’t blow his cover of being security as well as a guest.

Oops. There she was again. Out of the car, trying the back doorbell, but Marcus knew nobody was home at the moment. Even if Gus was on site, he never answered the door while prepping dinner.

Where was Logan and his fiancée, Jenna? They had been gone a long time. Obviously, they were expecting this new woman today. Her Nissan was practically leaking wedding stuff.

Now she was on her phone, talking to someone. Most likely Jenna, he deduced.

Pressing her lips together in frustration, the woman jumped up from the garden bench where she had been sitting for a few minutes and jumped into her car again, peeling around the property heading back up the long drive to the front gates on the paved mountain road.

Marcus could see her on the cameras.

Once she got to the top of the road, the woman pressed the buttons on the keypad, and the gates opened.

After driving through, her SUV disappeared back down the mountainside. Toward the village. Because that was the only thing at the edge of this forest.