by Susan Hatler
I didn’t really care if they did the jib, or not. I just wanted to get the men out of earshot so I could find out what was going on with my jittery friend. “Olivia, what’s wrong? Why don’t you want to help with the boat?”
She hugged herself. “I-I almost drowned a few years ago, and guess I’m a little afraid still.”
My mouth fell open. “Oh, Olivia. I didn’t know . . .” Guilt rolled through me. Of course I hadn’t known, because I hadn’t been around. “I never should’ve pushed you to help. I was just trying to help you feel comfortable around Hunter.”
Yeah, that plan had seriously backfired.
I came up next to her. “Why don’t we let the guys handle the sailing stuff then?”
She rubbed her sides. “Yeah, let’s do that. I’m not sure they can handle any more help from you anyway,” she joked, then winked at me. “Do you know how to make a Bloody Mary?”
“Yes, that sounds like a safe job for me.” I followed her into the little cabin, and we mixed up a pitcher of the drink. I went a little heavier on the vodka than I normally did since I had the feeling I was going to need it. “Didn’t Hunter annoy you in elementary school?”
She plunked celery into four glasses, then added ice and a slice of lemon to each one. “Yes. That Pink Panther stalking thing drove me nuts. He seems to be over that now.” She laughed. “What about you and Max? Do you still think you’ll mess your kids up that badly?”
I gave the pitcher a brisk stir. “I can’t date him, Olivia. Logically, it would never work out. But when I’m near him, I’m drawn to him in a way I can’t explain.”
“It’s the legend. You kissed him under a blue moon.”
My tummy fluttered. “You and I both know the legend isn’t real. It’s just a story. Now let’s take these drinks up on the deck.”
Her grin told me she knew I was changing the subject. But she let it go. Out on the deck, the guys had cast us adrift from the dock, and Hunter had set a steady course. They came over and we all took a seat as the wind blew through the sails, and we headed out into the lovely evening.
Max sipped his drink, looking out at the setting sun on the horizon. “Thank you for inviting me to be a part of this. I haven’t been sailing since I was in the Netherlands.”
Hunter made an approving sound. “That must have been a great sail. Where else have you sailed?”
Max took a long drink of his Bloody Mary. “I did a short sail through some fjords in Sweden last year. I travel a lot for work, but I try to fit a sail in when I can.”
Hunter turned to me. “How about you, Wendy? Do you travel a lot?”
“When I was young,” I said, a memory from my family’s time in Brazil hitting me. It was right before we’d moved to Blue Moon Bay. My parents had friends who owned a boat, and they had taken the four of us sailing. We’d laughed so much together. It had been a wonderful day.
Max slipped his arm around me. “Traveling is fun, but there’s no place like home.”
Olivia picked up a cracker with cheese. “Is this your first time in Blue Moon Bay, Max?”
He shook his head. “No, my parents brought me here when I was a kid.”
I’d been reaching for one of the crackers—a delectable-looking one with chutney and Brie—but my hand froze in mid-air. My gaze shot to his. “You’ve been here before?”
He nodded. “When I was twelve, my parents came to the coast for a party at their friends’ summer house. We stayed at the inn, along with several other families we knew.”
I realized my hand was still hanging over the plate, so I brought it back to my lap. “You stayed at our inn? I don’t remember you.”
He chuckled. “Well, there were a lot of people there that weekend, so you probably never noticed me. Your grandmother sure did though. She gave me a real good lecture after she saw me jumping from my second story balcony into the pool.”
A rush of tingles floated up my spine. No, it wasn’t possible. Max couldn’t be the boy I’d dreamed about all those years. The boy I’d thought about every time I heard the legend. I touched his hand, unable to believe what I was hearing. “That boy was you?”
“Yes . . .” He squinted, seeming to get from my expression that I’d noticed him, too. The corner of his mouth hitched up, and an electric energy coursed between us, tugging us closer together.
I stared into those beautiful blue eyes, but I was stunned speechless.
Olivia spoke first, “Do you know there have been signs all over the inn, ever since that incident, warning guests that jumping off the balconies is strictly prohibited? Every year, Wendy claimed she wanted to try it, but she was too scared her grandma would freak out if she did. We heard she really gave it to you after that stunt.”
Max snatched a few grapes off the platter. “Did she ever. It only took her about three seconds to realize my folks were too busy to bother with me, and she took me under her wing, so to speak. She made me trim the hedges, and said the lesson would do me good.”
I nibbled on a cracker. “Why would you take orders from an innkeeper when your parents were paying a premium to stay there?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I was trying to impress this girl, who lived at the inn. She seemed to adore her grandma, so I tried to take my punishment like a champ.”
Tingles shot through me from every direction. The boy at the inn—Max—had noticed me, too? My heart thumped against my ribcage. This was incredible.
Olivia turned to me, smiling. “Are you impressed yet, Wendy?”
Hunter laughed. “Wow. I thought singing under Olivia’s window, until her neighbors threatened to call the cops was romantic.”
We all laughed, but I was still processing what Max had revealed. When he laced his fingers through mine, I didn’t pull away.
I looked at Hunter. “You sang under Olivia’s windows? I didn’t hear about that.”
Hunter finished off his drink, and set the empty glass down. “Well, I tried to, but she lived on the ground floor, and one of her neighbors tossed a pot of water onto my head.” He stood and held out his hand. “Olivia, would you like to help me? I want to start tacking to the west.”
She bit her lip, and took a long breath. I made a frantic little flapping motion with one hand, and she laughed. “Yes, of course,” she said, as Hunter helped her out of the chair and they headed toward the boom.
I turned to Max. He sat sprawled out in the chair next to me, his bare knee touching mine, sending a rush of heat through my skin. “I can’t believe that was you at our inn. I was impressed when you jumped off that balcony. You had this zest for life, which I envied. And you were incredibly cute.” My gaze traveled over his handsome face. He was even more handsome now. “Your parents were furious when they found out what my grandma had made you do.”
“Yes, they were. She was the first person who had ever talked to me about responsibility, though. My parents had raised me to think we were above the rules, because we had money. Most people were too afraid of making my parents mad, or losing their business, to treat me like a kid. It was a refreshing change, and your grandma taught me a lesson I never forgot.”
I studied my hands a moment, before lifting my lashes, and a piece of hair fell against my cheek. “Were you really trying to impress me, Max?”
He tucked the piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m still trying to impress you. I think your grandma would be proud of the work I’ve done on the inn. Don’t you think?”
“She would’ve loved you,” I whispered, then leaned across the little distance between us, until our mouths met. As we glided along the water, my eyes drifted closed. His warm, soft lips parted, and his tongue met mine in a long and slow kiss that seared my senses. He tasted of cheese and drink, each stroke of his tongue sending ripples through my belly.
I never wanted this moment to end.
The boy I’d always dreamed about had become the man I’d tried to stay away from, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. There was no more denying I’d fallen
hard for Max, though. Since that day when we were twelve, he’d stolen my heart. I didn’t know what to do about that, so I continued to kiss him, while the wind whipped all around us.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of the waves pounding against the shore outside my window. I cracked open one eye, glanced at my clock, and my eyes bulged. It was past ten in the morning already. I wanted to crawl under my pillow and keep dreaming of Max, but I rolled out of bed, and put my feet on the floor. I stood and stretched, trying to get some blood flowing into my muscles.
We had stayed out way too late last night, but the evening had been absolutely amazing: the long smooth sail along the shore, reconnecting with Olivia, and kissing Max—that had been really good. So good that we’d returned to the inn, soaked in the hot tub, and kissed some more. My lips were actually swollen from all of our kisses, but once I’d started, I couldn’t stop myself. His kisses were addictive, and delicious—just like how I felt about him.
I took a quick shower, put on a pants suit, and headed downstairs, wishing I’d bought a new espresso machine already. I was mentally preparing myself for the drive into town as I walked into the lobby, but Brian met me and handed me a tall cup that had the delicious aroma of freshly roasted brew rising from it.
“You are so my favorite person right now,” I said, taking the cup, and drinking the hot, delicious liquid. I’d never been so tired in my life. Or, so happy.
Brian chuckled. “I thought you might want to skip the trip into town this morning since you got in so late. That must have been some date.”
“Mmhmm.” I pried off the lid and blew on the steaming dark liquid, so I could down enough to wake myself up.
Brian watched me with interest. “So, how did it go?”
“We sailed along the shore. It was gorgeous.”
He tapped his foot, and crossed his arms. “Not the boat. I meant the forbidden date with the inn guest, you know, with Max.”
I knew exactly what he meant, but I didn’t want to talk about it. The evening had been wonderful, like something out of a fairytale—or a coastal legend, as the case may be—but that didn’t change the fact that there was no chance of us working out. But I didn’t want to think about that right now. So I walked over to the table against the wall, and began flipping through the old-fashioned guest book, searching for the signatures from when I was twelve. The pages had gilt on the edges and the smell of the book stirred up good memories, making me smile.
Brian nudged my ribs. “If you don’t want to talk about the date, then it must have been phenomenal.”
“Hmm,” I said, being non-committal. I tried hard to ignore my brother, but ignoring Brian was like ignoring a tsunami. Sadly, the guest book ended ten years ago. “Do you know where Grandma keeps the old guest books?”
“Not sure.” Brian grinned at me, leaning onto the table. “Come on, sis. Spill it. Give me all the details.”
I opened my mouth to answer, just as the door to the inn opened, and a couple marched in. I turned toward the pair, happy to be saved from my brother’s nosy questioning. The man and the woman wore clothes that screamed money. The tall blonde woman had impeccably groomed nails and hair, and gave me a winning smile as they crossed the lobby together.
Brian stepped forward. “Are you checking in?”
She shook her head. “We’re looking for the owner.”
“I’m Wendy Watts, the owner.” I extended a hand, purposefully not introducing Brian as an owner since she must be selling something, and I could handle her myself.
She took my hand, and gave it a hard pump. “Hello, Ms. Watts. I’m Louise Totsky and this is my husband Leon. We would love to take a tour of your inn.”
“Are you interested in booking a room?” Brian asked.
“No.” She shook her head, reached into her designer purse, and handed me a business card. “We heard the inn is going up for sale, and we’re entertaining the possibility of purchasing it.”
Adrenaline coursed through me. Could they really be serious buyers? My mind immediately raced with the possibilities. If they purchased immediately, and we had a short escrow, then I might be able to purchase my townhouse! Inside I was reeling, but I kept my face blank. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you both.” I straightened, holding my head high, incredibly glad I’d put on a suit this morning. “As you can see, the whole place is undergoing renovations. All cosmetic, a fresh facelift if you will.”
“Wonderful.” Her smile widened. “That would be less work for us.”
Suddenly, I had a crazy hallucination. I pictured myself slamming the guestbook shut and flapping my hands at them, shouting, “The inn’s not for sale! Move along, please! Move along, now!”
I blinked a few times, then took a quick peek at the book. To my relief it was still open, and Louise was still smiling. Weird. I blamed the Bloody Marys from the night before, but the feeling I had wouldn’t go away. Something inside me didn’t want to sell the inn to them. But that made no sense. I knew when a buyer was serious, that was part of being a good Realtor, and these two seemed serious. They could be the answer to all of my problems. So what was wrong with me? Ignoring my gut reaction, I said, “I’d be happy to give you a tour right now if you’d like.”
“Thank you so much.” Louise removed a camera from her purse and handed it to Leon, who began snapping pictures.
I set my coffee cup on the table, holding my hands wide. “This is the main lobby, of course. The crown molding is original, and that window is being replaced. The floors are all hardwood, and we’re refinishing them next week. The views are some of the most incredible in Blue Moon Bay, and are visible from all of the many windows throughout the buildings. Upstairs is the section with the bedrooms we keep for our personal use. Are you planning to live at the inn?” I asked, a knot forming in my stomach.
“Yes.” She smiled tightly, glancing at her husband. “This seems like the perfect opportunity for us. We come from the city, but we’re ready to have a slower paced life now.”
“Have you been to Blue Moon Bay before?” I asked, as we walked through the hall, toward the attached buildings.
Louise shook her head. “No. We just came down a few days ago to visit a friend and we fell in love with the town. We’re selling our business in San Francisco to get out of the city, and we’re looking for a new adventure.”
We approached the next building, and my brain went into overdrive. Maybe they didn’t have the money right now. Maybe the purchase of the inn would depend on the sale of their business. I cleared my throat. “Are you planning to have a contingency on any potential offer? In regards to the sale of your current business?”
Her mouth curved into a smile. “No, any offer would be all cash.”
My heart sank. I had no idea why. For some reason, part of me had been hoping she wouldn’t say no, which made no sense. I’d taken a ring of keys from the desk and I used one to open an empty guest room.
Louise sailed in ahead of us. “Look at the lovely bay view. Just magnificent.”
“Indescribable,” Leon said, enthusiastically. “I like the whole idea of running the inn, living here, and seeing that view every morning and night. It’s a perfect slice of heaven.”
I bit my lip. “Do you have a timetable for when you would want to take the inn over, if you decided to purchase?”
“Since the sale of our current business will be handled by our lawyer, we could take over as soon as escrow closed,” Louise said, without taking her gaze away from the ocean view. She gestured to her husband, who started snapping photos of the bay.
I bit my lip, irritated at their fascination with the view, and feeling like they were intruding on my private property. “We’re looking for a buyer who plans to run the inn long-term.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Louise gazed up and down the shore, before she turned back to me with a smile. “That’s exactly what we plan to do.”
“Perfect,” I said, wondering about
the gaping hole I felt in my chest. They did sound like the ideal buyers, so I should’ve been jumping for joy. Only I wasn’t. Not even close.
I finished showing them the property, then we circled back to the lobby. I gave them my business card. They promised to be in touch soon, then they left the same way they came in, at full march. I sagged against the desk, staring after them. It might happen. They might buy our beloved inn. If things happened fast, I could make a contingency offer on the townhouse I wanted, too. I closed my eyes, seeing the automatic blinds, the sweeping balcony, the granite countertops, and hard-wood floors. Everything was falling into place.
“What did they say?” Brian asked, his voice gruff.
My eyes snapped open. He stood near the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a petulant expression on his face. I inhaled deeply. “They’re interested buyers. I think they’ll make an offer. I gave them a high asking price, and they didn’t even flinch. She said any offer will be all cash, and they would want a short escrow. We’ll make sure escrow closes after the will’s thirty-day requirement ends, of course.”
He scowled at me. “Then I’ll have to leave my home.”
I sighed and picked up my coffee, drinking a long gulp of it to soothe my throat and nerves. It didn’t work, so I set it back down, and flicked my gaze to my brother. “This has always been the plan. The will says we have to sell the inn.”
“Then you’ll leave again, too.”
My chest tightened. “I have to get back to my business. It’s hard to manage it over the phone, and there’s a townhome I’m going to make an offer on.”
“So that’s it?” He threw his hands up and stormed out.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the San Francisco area code. “This is Wendy Watts.”
“Hello, Wendy. This is Louise Totsky. I wanted to let you know my husband and I were pleased with the inn. We’ll be submitting an offer shortly, and I hope you’ll find it acceptable.”