“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the beer,” he said, then slipped into the room and shut the door.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
Obviously, Henry Gilbert had a past. Well, who didn’t? Welcome to the club.
She didn’t have any more time to consider Henry Gilbert’s past. She had her own to explain. She put away her cleaning supplies and hurried to the house to freshen up and get her picnic ready for Paul.
An hour later they sat on a blanket on the beach behind the house, with Paul attempting to keep Nemo from trampling him and gobbling his tuna sandwich and her trying to decide how to bring up the subject of her beach adventure with Henry.
She finally concluded that the best way to tackle the problem was to dive in. “I saw you talking to some of the women at church yesterday,” she said.
“I talked to a lot of people.”
She didn’t let him sidestep the issue. “I’m not sure what they told you, but it wasn’t the whole truth.”
“I don’t listen to gossip, Celeste.”
“Don’t you want to know what happened?”
“Do I need to?”
“You need to understand that I don’t cheat on men I’m dating.”
“I never thought you did.”
Okay. Maybe she didn’t have to share all the embarrassing details. But she had to share more about herself. “You should know, though. I’ve got a past.”
“Most people do.” He frowned at Nemo, who was clambering on him in an attempt to get to his sandwich, and moved him off. “Trying to eat here.”
That made her smile. But only for a moment. “Look. I’ve slept with other men, had relationships that didn’t work out.” Several.
He blinked at that, gave up on his sandwich and let the dog wolf it down. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I suspect you’re interested in me.”
“Of course I am. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here with you.”
“Well, then. You need to know. I have baggage.”
“Like I said, most of us do.”
“Yeah, but doesn’t it bother you that...” The rest of her sentence fizzled and she fed the rest of her sandwich to Nemo, as well.
“Celeste, I didn’t have the most stellar life before I became a pastor. I was a frat boy and I had my share of sexual encounters. I did some drugs when I was in high school, stole a neighbor’s car and went joy-riding. The only thing that kept me out of juvie was that the neighbor and dad were friends and the guy didn’t press charges.”
“Whoa, you were busy.”
“You going to hold it against me?”
“Of course not. That was a long time ago.”
“Then why should I hold your past against you? When it comes to people, I’m more interested in what they’re doing in the present and what they plan for the future. I connected with God when I was a senior in college and I’m glad I did. I want the rest of my life to have meaning. If that’s the page you’re on, then we’re good.”
Celeste suddenly felt as if something heavy had slid off her shoulders. Paul Welch was truly special. And inspiring. “You are fabulous,” she said and leaned over and kissed him.
Nemo, wanting attention, too, jumped between them, spraying sand on their laps and what was left of the food and bringing back Paul’s frown.
“Do you mind?” he said irritably, pushing the dog away.
“Sorry,” Celeste said. “He’s a little rambunctious.”
“He needs to go to obedience school.”
“I take it you don’t like dogs,” she said, grabbing Nemo by the collar and hauling him to her other side. This could be a problem.
“I like dogs, but not the out-of-control kind.”
Hers certainly fit that description. He’d have to go to obedience school, no doubt about it.
Paul began brushing the sand off his pants. The frown hadn’t left.
It looked as though she’d found his one flaw. Paul Welch was not an animal lover.
“Sorry about the sand,” she said.
“We’re at the beach. Sand happens. I just don’t like it in my food.”
“Or on your pants?”
“I’ll admit I’m a neat freak.”
And she tended to let dishes pile up in the sink and never dusted. Left her clothes lying around. But that was minor stuff. Neat and sloppy could find a way to compromise. The dog thing, though. Hmm.
“So really, you and dogs...?”
“I got bitten when I was a kid. It kind of turned me off the whole man’s-best-friend idea. And they’re messy.”
Now she was the one frowning.
“But Nemo here could change my mind. If he doesn’t make a habit of getting sand in my food. Anyway, I have a feeling you two come as a set, right?”
“We do.”
“Then I think I’m going to learn to like your dog,” he said.
At that moment Henry Gilbert jogged past, sloshing his way along the edge of the water. Nemo barked excitedly and rushed off to join him, kicking up more sand.
“Nemo, no!” Celeste called. “Come here, boy!”
Nemo’s selective hearing had kicked in again. He was far too busy tail-wagging and greeting Henry, who’d stopped to rub behind his ears.
“Be right back,” she said to Paul and ran over to where Nemo and Henry were having their love fest.
“Nemo, come here,” she commanded.
Tail still wagging, the dog turned to her, a doggy smile on his face, tongue lolling.
“He’s a good boy,” said Henry, his voice softening. “Goldens are the best.” He nodded toward Paul, who was now standing up and shaking out the blanket. “Looks like you’ve got more than one good boy in tow. Boyfriend?”
“We might be headed that way.” She hoped.
Henry frowned. “He looks like a priss.”
Just because he was wearing nice shorts and a polo shirt as opposed the ratty T-shirt and torn cutoff jeans Henry was in? And didn’t like sand in his food? Nobody did.
“Well, he’s not,” Celeste insisted. “He’s a really good man. And noble.”
Henry gave a snort. “What is he, some kind of philanthropist?”
“No. He’s a pastor.”
Henry grunted.
“You don’t approve of pastors?”
“I didn’t say that. Never would’ve taken you for the pastor type is all.”
She frowned at him. “What type would you take me for?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Nothing comes to mind? You’re not very creative for a writer,” she taunted, falling back into their pre-rescue rhythm.
“I save my creativity for killing people. Better get back to your pastor. He looks like he might be thinking bad things about you,” Henry said as a parting shot, then took off down the beach.
Celeste grabbed Nemo’s collar before he could run after Henry. “Yes, I know. You want to be friends. But we’re not going to start anything with him. We’ve already started something with someone else.”
They returned to Paul, and the rest of their picnic passed pleasantly. He was easy to talk to. Comfortable.
Comfortable was good. Celeste said as much to her sister later that evening as they sat sprawled in front of the TV. Who needed to be like a teenager anymore, crazy for the guy, wanting his hands all over you, hardly able to breathe when you saw him?
She thought of Sabrina, lingering at the front door with her boyfriend earlier in the evening, squeezing in as many kisses as she could before Jenna put an end to the fun. He would be leaving for college at the beginning of September and Sabrina was already agonizing over their upcoming separation.
Meanwhile Jenna watched them like a mother hawk and worried that they’d do something rash. Jenna was a born worrier. Celeste, on the other ha
nd, understood how her niece felt. She’d felt the same about Emerson.
And about every man she’d dated, for that matter. Her friend Vanita was right. She was, indeed, a pushover for a great body and a nice smile.
She was done being a pushover now. She was going to be smart.
“Except do I only want to be comfortable?” she mused.
“So Paul doesn’t do it for you? Is that what you’re saying?” Jenna asked.
“No, he does. I really like him. It’s just that, well, it feels different than it did with Emerson.”
“I’d think you’d be grateful for that,” Jenna said.
Celeste let out a sigh. “Yeah. With Emerson it was all sex and adrenaline highs.”
“You can’t live your whole life like that. You’d die of exhaustion.”
“But I’d die with a smile on my face,” Celeste cracked, then couldn’t help wondering, Would a pastor’s wife say something like that? Of course, she decided. Pastors’ wives had sex, too.
“I remember what it was like with Damien and me,” Jenna said. “He was so cool, so sexy, so everything I wanted. But not what I needed. He turned out to be shallow and selfish. I wish when I was dating I’d thought about the long haul. It can’t just be about attraction. You want someone who’ll be there to listen when you’ve got a problem, someone who’s willing to pull his share in a relationship. Someone who gets the concept of commitment.”
That was Paul. He was smart. And good-looking. And yes, she was attracted to him.
But not the way she’d been to Emerson. “I just feel there should be more...sparks.”
“Has he kissed you yet?”
“No,” Celeste replied. “I kissed him.”
“Well?” Jenna prompted.
“That doesn’t count ’cause it was a quick thank-you kiss.”
“Thank you for what?”
“For being so understanding.” She sighed. “He is such a sweet man. But am I falling in love with him?”
“You want to see him again?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’d take that as a sign that you are. Or at least falling in like, and that’s a good beginning.”
“I’m ready for a good beginning,” Celeste said. “And a good ending.”
Which was exactly what she’d get with Paul, so bring it on.
Chapter Twelve
It was late afternoon on the third of July, and Jenna had just taken a reservation when the office door opened and Lisa Whitaker made a grand entrance, arms extended. “We’re here,” she declared as her sister Karen walked in behind her.
The sisters had stayed at the Driftwood Inn over the holidays and shared many a storm adventure with Jenna, and she’d been looking forward to having them and their husbands back at the Driftwood as much as they’d been looking forward to coming. She hurried around the reception desk to give them both hugs.
“It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to be back,” Karen said.
“When the sun is shining,” her sister added with a wink as their husbands joined them in the lobby.
“Aunt Edie’s been baking up a storm and has big plans for a beach fire on the night of the Fourth,” Jenna told them all. “I hope you’ll be there.”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” said Lisa.
“I hear it’s crazy down here on the Fourth,” her husband put in.
“Nothing can rival the fireworks show you get on Moonlight Beach. Thousands of people all come to set off their fireworks. You have to see it to believe it.”
“I hope you have your fire department on standby,” said Karen’s husband, Doug.
“Oh, yes,” Jenna assured him.
“So what rooms are we in now?” Lisa asked. “I hope you were able to put Dean and me in the one Karen and I had last time.”
“Absolutely. And Karen, you and Doug are right next door,” Jenna said. “Let’s get you checked in.”
That didn’t take long, and the four of them left, each with a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie in hand, Aunt Edie’s offering for the day.
“It looks like the sisters are here,” Courtney said when she showed up for her turn at the desk.
“Yep. We have two late check-ins, and then we’re full for the Fourth.”
“No vacancies. All right!” Courtney said and they bumped fists.
“Yep, it’s going to be a fun time. Oh, and speaking of, Aunt Edie’s planning a beach fire for tomorrow night. Hope you can come.”
“Gee, let me check my social calendar,” Courtney joked. “Yeah, I’m free. Who all’s gonna be there?”
“The sisters, of course, and the Marshes. All the other usual suspects—Nora and her husband, Tyrella...”
“Any singletons coming?”
“Brody for sure,” Jenna said.
Courtney rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s taken. And Seth? I assume you’ve invited him?”
“Haven’t seen him much lately, but yes, he’s on the list.”
“Alas, he’s also a Jenna fan.” She sighed. “If only the police and fire department weren’t going to be busy.”
“If you’re wanting to see Victor or Jonas, I guess we can always set your hair on fire,” Jenna teased.
“I may get desperate enough to do that at some point.”
“Meanwhile, come party with us.”
“You know I will.”
With Courtney ably handling the evening shift, Jenna left the office, headed for the house. She saw Seth’s truck in the parking lot and decided to detour past his room and invite him to come enjoy the fireworks with them the following night.
Fireworks on the Fourth? Seeing him answer the door in jeans and shirtless was enough to set off sparklers in her chest right then. She could hear the shower running in the bathroom and he had the musky smell of a man who’d been working outside all day.
“Hang on,” he said and went to turn off the shower. Seth Waters had a gift for filling out a pair of jeans, she thought, watching him walk away.
“So what’s up?” he asked once he returned.
Besides her libido? “A party on the beach. Aunt Edie wants us all to watch the fireworks together.”
He nodded. “Who’s coming?”
“The usual gang,” she said evasively.
“Yeah? Who?”
She started naming names, not mentioning the one she knew would be a deal-breaker.
“How about the house peddler?”
“Well, he is one of our friends,” she had to say.
“Sorry, I’ve got plans.”
Seth Waters could be so irritating. Jenna tried another tack. “Aunt Edie will be disappointed.”
“Just Aunt Edie?”
“You know I will be, too.”
He leaned against the doorjamb.
A shirtless man leaning in a doorway—all those lovely muscles on display. Jenna’s mouth went dry.
“You don’t need me. You’ve got Green.”
“Why are you always bringing him up?” she demanded.
“You can’t tell me there’s nothing between you two.”
No, she couldn’t. But she wanted there to be something between her and Seth, too, more than this animal magnetism dance they’d gotten so skilled at. Poor, confused her.
“You’re together all the time.”
“We have chamber business. And he wants me to run for city council.”
Seth nodded, taking that in. “You’re becoming a real mover and shaker. Green’s a good match for you.”
“Maybe he is,” Jenna snapped.
“So you really don’t need me there.”
“Maybe I don’t. A woman can only wait so long.”
His easy expression faded. “I know about waiting, Jenna. I waited a long time to get out of prison. B
ut I’m not...” He stopped and shook his head.
“Honestly, Seth, you make me crazy.”
“Not half as crazy as I make myself sometimes. Answer me this. How do you become a winner?”
“By risking everything.” Even your heart.
He shook his head. “By going with the sure thing. Enjoy the fireworks,” he said, then, with a rueful smile, he slowly shut the door.
She should’ve pushed it open, rushed him, grabbed him by the ears and kissed him. But she didn’t. What would be the point? Seth wasn’t ready for commitment, at least not to her, no matter how many sparks flew back and forth between them.
“Fine,” she muttered as she walked across the parking lot. “You aren’t the only man in town who knows how to stir up a woman’s hormones.”
Halfway to the house, she met her sister and Nemo, who were about to take a beach walk. “You look like you’re ready to murder somebody,” Celeste said.
“I am. Seth Waters.”
“Okay, spill. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. And nothing ever will be. I’m not waiting for him to get his emotional act together any longer. It’s Brody all the way.”
“Brody’s great.”
From her sister’s tone of voice, Jenna knew there was more. “But?”
“But are you sure?”
“Yes. I am officially no longer interested in that man.”
“Then why are you so pissed that he’s not coming to the beach fire?”
“Because he irritates me.”
Celeste grinned. “Irritation. Definitely a sign of love.”
* * *
Hmm. And how did that apply to her and the terror of room twelve? Celeste asked herself.
Henry Gilbert could, indeed, be irritating, but it wasn’t the kind of irritation that turned into love like in books and movies, she decided. He was simply irritating.
Still, he had his good points. For one thing, he liked dogs. That was easy enough to see when she and Nemo met him on the beach. He’d been running and his ragged T-shirt was dotted with sweat. For a man who sat around writing all day, Henry Gilbert was certainly in shape.
“I’d better be careful,” she said as Nemo flopped on his back for a belly rub. “My dog might leave me for you.”
The Summer Retreat Page 13