Kenneth retrieved the hot toast, stacking it on a plate. Addison was flirting outrageously and it was beginning to p.i.s.s Tessa off. Good. "I'll keep the thought in mind. If things don't work out here, it might be worth considering."

Tessa immediately put the kibosh on the idea. "Back off! I've got a to-do list at least three miles long. The man's got plenty to handle around here."

Kenneth liked the sound of that. It seemed like Tessa wasn't going to give him a boot to the a.s.s and send him packing. In the back of his mind he hoped he'd be handling more than tools and spatulas.

Eggs done, he added the bacon and toast. He delivered three heaping plates of food to the table. "With a list like that, I'd better eat up." Pouring everyone a second cup of fresh coffee, he took his own place at the table. "Dig in, ladies."

The sound of silverware going into serious action filled the kitchen.

Addison pointed toward the last pancake. "Anyone going to eat that?"

"Not me," Tessa said between bites. "I've got enough."

"Feel free," Kenneth added.

Addison stretched out an arm, snagging the pancake with her fork. "Thanks."

Kenneth eyed her bare arm. Addison was dressed much like her sister, except her T-shirt had an EMT's emblem on it, and was emblazoned with SEARCH AND RESCUE in big red letters across the back.

"Nice tats."

"Thanks," Addison said between bites. "I like 'em."

"Yours match Tessa's."

Addison shrugged and forked in a mouthful of eggs. "We each chose the same designs."

"Tribal, right?"

The two women exchanged a quick glance. Blank stares and silence followed, as if he'd lifted his leg and stuck a foot in his mouth.

"So let's drop the bulls.h.i.t," Addison finally said. "I know you saw Tess wearing her tail, so you know the tats are part of our scale pattern." She gave him the stink eye as if daring him to make a big deal of the issue. "What do you think of that?"

Keeping his face neutral, Kenneth sipped his coffee. "Well, truth be told, I think it's pretty awesome."

Addison speared her b.u.t.ter knife his way. "I know you're the dude Tess hauled out of the water last year."

He nodded. "I guess I'm not going to live that one down."

"You're lucky you did live. Tessa told me about your wife, so I won't ask you to explain the reason why you did that."

Tessa glanced at her little sister sharply. "That's enough," she warned. "Shut the h.e.l.l up."

Kenneth shrugged. "It's okay. I was just having a moment."

"Just don't have another one." Addison made a face. "I hate hauling dead bodies out of the water."

He nodded again. The girl was certainly blunt. "I'm good and done with my nervous breakdown."

Tessa gave her sister another verbal poke. "Change the subject or shut up, Addie."

Kenneth smiled to himself. Ah, Tessa. p.r.i.c.kly as a cactus. Reach out and touch and you'd get a nasty jab.

Sitting at the table with two pretty women, he realized how much he'd missed the simplicity of sharing a meal with other people. Because of her busy schedule, Jen had never done more than grab a cup of coffee and a piece of fruit before heading out to work at the hospital. They rarely met for lunch and dinner was catch as can.

He'd known when he married her that Jen's career was important. She was an up-and-coming young neurosurgeon. Her parents had freaked when she'd agreed to marry him, a mechanic and junkman. After Jen's murder, they'd cut him cold. He knew why, too. In their eyes he wasn't good enough. Not highly educated, just a plain workingman. He didn't fit in with their country-club lifestyle.

Glancing around the kitchen with its faded wallpaper and peeling linoleum, it vaguely occurred to him why he felt so comfortable sitting down to the table with its scratched surface and creaky chairs. It reminded him of the place he'd grown up, one of the tract houses across the railroad tracks that separated the good side of town from the poorer side. When he was a kid, his mother had encouraged him to work hard and do better. He'd married up, to the manor born.

But he'd never been comfortable.

Sc.r.a.ping her plate with the last of her toast, Addison popped the final bite in her mouth. "My G.o.d, I'm stuffed." She patted her stomach. "This is the best breakfast I've ever eaten."

Having wiped out his own food with the speed of light, Kenneth sipped his coffee. "Glad you enjoyed it." He glanced at Tessa. Though she hadn't cleaned her plate, she'd eaten a good portion. "Edible?"

She gave one of her slight, fleeting smiles. "I think I just gained ten pounds," she allowed. "All that greasy food is going to go straight to my hips."

He smiled. "I can do healthy."

"I thought you were a mechanic. Where'd you learn to cook?"

Her probe for information wasn't graceful or subtle.

As a general rule, Kenneth didn't care to share his childhood. Along with the memories came the fear he'd end up as bitter and alone as his mother had. She'd tolerated people, but never allowed them to get close. In the end, she'd pushed everyone away, including her own children.

But since Tessa was a woman who also eyed all men with suspicion, he supposed it would be best to open up and be honest. He really had nothing to hide. But what he had to share wasn't pleasant, or encouraging.

"My mother was a single parent. I guess you could say I kind of grew up having to look out for myself. Mom worked two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, so she didn't have a lot of time to cook or clean. Since I was the oldest, I tried to help out."

Pushing her empty plate away, Addison propped her elbows on the table. "You have brothers and sisters?"

"A brother. Jason. Three years younger than me."

Addison waggled her brows. "Maybe you could introduce us sometime?"

Tessa smacked her younger sister's shoulder. "Stop it, Addie. He gets that you're on the make."

Addison eyed her sister. "Keep your hands to yourself, or I may be hitting back." She raised a mock fist. "I got one that'll send you to the moon, babe."

Kenneth couldn't help but laugh. It was clear when these two got going, they'd entertain for hours. He wished he'd had that kind of connection with his own sibling.

Regret p.r.i.c.kled along his nerves. "As much as I would like to see him with a girl like you," he said, "that's not possible. Jason got into drugs really deep when he was a teenager. Even though he was in and out of jail, he never could shake the habit. Rehab didn't work either. Last I heard, he was a carnie traveling with some fly-by-night circus. You know, the kind that blows into town, sets up for a week or so, then blows back out." He shook his head regretfully. "No keeping up with those kinds of people. I lost track of him a few years ago. I don't know if he's dead or alive."

Tessa's grip visibly tightened on her cup. Her expression grew somber. "I'm sorry to hear that. What about your dad?"

Kenneth fiddled with his own empty cup. This was a part of his story he'd like to skip. "Dad walked out when Jason was three and I was six. I spent most of my life after that listening to Mom rant about what a b.a.s.t.a.r.d our father was. She blamed him for everything that went wrong, for everything we didn't have. Poverty wasn't just a word, it was a way of life."

Tessa's hand slipped over his arm. "I'm sorry. That must have been tough."

Heart tripping in his chest, Kenneth glanced down in surprise. Tessa reaching out to him was something he definitely hadn't expected. By sharing a bit about his life he'd unwittingly set up a thaw, cracking through her icy wall of self-protection.

Swallowing hard, he shrugged. "The rest is pretty simple. I grew up and moved on."

As if she recognized the implications behind her touch, Tessa got up and began to clear the table. She obviously needed to put some distance between them. She piled the dishes in the sink.

Kenneth watched her work. As he'd gotten older, he'd tried to help his mother out. But nothing he did to please her was ever good enough. In her eyes, all men were pigs. Swine. Out for nothing but a good time and a quick lay.

It was exactly how Tessa seemed to view men. She'd lumped him into the category occupied by cheats, losers, and liars.

That wasn't true, though. He wasn't a man who used women.

Kenneth had decided at an early age that he wasn't going to grow up and be like his father. He'd work hard, be responsible, and take care of the woman he married.

He inwardly flinched. Jen, however, didn't need much taking care of.

Maybe that's why they'd begun to flounder . . .

Unwilling to let Tessa look like the heroine for taking over kitchen duty, Addison immediately b.u.t.ted in. "I can handle those dishes."

Soppy washrag in hand, Tessa raised a brow. "Don't you have someplace to be? Like work?"

"I've done my four twelves; now I have three beautiful days off." Addison reached for a dry towel. "You wash, I'll put away."

Pushing away from the table, Kenneth headed toward the coffeepot. There was just enough for one more cup; then he supposed he'd have to quit lollygagging and find something useful to do. Tessa had pointed out a work shed where the tools were kept yesterday. He supposed he'd better sort through them and see what he had to work with. If he needed anything, he could send the list back to the mainland with Addison.

Not that it looked like Addison was going to leave anytime soon. She seemed determined to park herself at the house and rag away on Tessa. It was worth it, though, if it helped keep her older sister in a good mood.

"I'll be glad to cook more often, as long as I get to watch two pretty ladies clean up the mess," he offered.

Putting away the last of the dishes, Addison flipped the damp dish towel over her shoulder. By the look on her face, she was about to say something totally inappropriate when a newcomer arrived. Without warning, the back door flew open.

Gwen sailed in. Sungla.s.ses perched on top of her head, she was dressed in one of the fashionable business suits he'd come to recognize as her human uniform. The long sleeves of her blazer and her slacks hid the markings she seemed determined to keep from the world. For all intents and purposes, Gwen Lonike lived as a human being. Like Tessa, Addison made no attempt to hide hers. The younger woman's punk persona and c.o.c.ky att.i.tude suited the idea that she was a tattooed bada.s.s.

Sniffing the still fragrant air, Gwen looked around. The kitchen had been thoroughly cleaned, everything put back in its place. She groaned. "Why do I miss the good stuff?"

"Maybe 'cause you don't live here anymore," Addison ventured sensibly. "But, man, do I have some juicy gossip for you."

Tessa shot Addison a glare hot enough to scald. "Don't say a frickin' word if you want to live." A double-hot look landed on Kenneth. "Same goes for you."

Kenneth raised his hands. "I know nothing," he mumbled, taking on a comic accent. "I'm just the handyman." He really didn't want Tessa to follow through with her earlier threat to toss him back in the bay. He doubted he'd come up a second time.

Lightening her glare to a look of annoyance, Tessa looked to Gwen. "What are you even doing here anyway? I don't see you two for months, and now the place is Grand Central Station at noon."

Gwen waved a distracted hand. "I wanted to be the first to tell you."

Tessa stiffened. "Tell me what? If it's about the taxes, I've already written the check."

"No, it's not about that. It's something bigger."

Tessa snorted inelegantly and shook her head. "We're not selling our home, either."

Gwen frowned, tipping her chin to a pugnacious angle. "Shut up for a minute, would you? You're not listening to a thing I'm saying."

Gaze growing wary, Tessa crossed her arms. "You haven't said anything worth listening to."

"I'm about to." Gwen took a breath. "It's Jake. He's back in town and he wants to see us. All of us."

Chapter 8.

Two hours later, all four of them were standing on the dock like bystanders waiting for the parade to start. Lucky's skiff was puttering toward the island, and on board was the last man Tessa wanted to see in the world.

"Why did you tell him he could come here?" she grumbled to Gwen. She really didn't want to lay eyes on the man again. She hadn't seen him since the day he'd dumped her, which had probably been for the best. It had made the break cleaner, though no easier to deal with. "Considering how he tried to exploit us, you should have told him to take a flying leap."

Eyes shielded behind an impenetrable pair of sungla.s.ses, Gwen kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. "I did consider that. But it's actually because of you that I told him to come over."

Tessa felt her stomach drop to the ground. "Me? If you think having him say I'm sorry now is going to make things all better, you're wrong."

"It's not Jake I'm thinking about, Tess," Gwen told her. "It's what he says he has I'm interested in. I think you will be, too."

Tessa sniffed. "He's got nothing I want."

Addison leaned over, b.u.mping Gwen's shoulder with her own. "What's he got?"

"A few days ago he sent an e- mail telling me he was about to break his theory wide-open. He says he's found indisputable proof in some artifacts brought up from a recent recovery."

"Artifacts, my a.s.s." Tessa rolled her eyes. "We've heard that one before. And h.e.l.l would freeze over before I'd help him prove them true."

As an archaeologist, Jake Ma.s.sey had centered his studies on lost civilizations and their rediscovery. In academia that was perfectly acceptable, as many of his colleagues also searched for the same elusive destinations throughout the world.

After he'd ended their relationship, Jake had begun to present a series of lectures about lost sea-based civilizations like Atlantis and Ishaldi, claiming in his course program that such places had actually existed.

On paper his thesis sounded plausible, and was actually published in Archaeology Today, a bimonthly magazine for professionals in the field. He'd based his research on the accounts of several excerpts reputedly penned by the Greek philosopher and mathematician Hypatia of Alexandria.

The rediscovery of Hypatia's work-which had been previously considered forever lost-occurred in the earlier part of the eighteenth century. At first archaeologists of the time had been immensely excited by her account of a sea- born people. Unfortunately, her work was later judged to be pale imitations of others such as Plato, and her account of the vanished isle of Ishaldi was believed to be no more than a romanticized version of Plato's account of the sinking of Atlantis.

Judging her version to be utterly authentic, Jake had taken his theory a step further, adding that lost civilization had actually been founded by an intelligent nonhuman species.

A species he claimed survived to this very day.

Addison leaned in close. "You know he ended up getting bounced out of U Maine a few years ago because of his support of the"-she raised her hands and made quote marks with her fingers-" *intelligent nonhuman species' he says exists. I heard he lost his sea grants shortly after for lack of hard evidence. The scientific community blasted his theories as no more than junk science."