WindSwept Narrows: #3 Emily Temple

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “So…it’s actually sitting under the tarp hiding from the cops, huh?”

  “That’s a little harsh, but the thought did occur to me that it might be a good idea,” she murmured with a shrug. “The shop has a nice, sedate van for me to use. Mostly I just walk to the market or grocery down the street. I use the van when I go to the fabric store to browse for new stuff for costumes.”

  “This has cruise control, Emily…you can set it and not exceed the speed limit,” Jack mentioned casually.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Emily straightened up, taking in the large expanse of the restaurant ahead of them. “It’s gorgeous…it looks like it should be sitting on a beach somewhere.”

  “The food is good, too,” Jack parked the sports car, aware of the attention it was drawing. He went around and closed the door behind Emily, chirping the alarms and taking her palm in his. “Let’s go explore.”

  Emily held tightly to his palm but her gaze was all over the place. “It smells tropical,” she breathed, smiling at the waitress that greeted them.

  “Two for lunch…”

  “Could we get the patio, please?” Emily asked hopefully.

  “Of course…follow me,” she gestured forward, two large menus in her hands as she wove her way among the tables to the large outdoor covered patio. A bamboo railing edged the bamboo flooring, unlit candles and tiki torches framed the patio around them. Gently moving ceiling fans circulated the warm air around them, the menus placed on a table in the far corner of the patio.

  They listened politely to the specials. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Raspberry lemonade,” Emily said immediately, opening the menu to read and look at the various choices.

  “I’ll have one of the Aruba Red Ales, please,” Jack set the menu aside and leaned back in the comfortable rattan chair. He watched her set the menu down and just look around, dappled sunlight streamed through the openings to shine off the intricate braid that wove its way down her back.

  Chapter Ten

  “Have you been here before?” Emily felt the heat in her cheeks when she realized he was staring at her.

  “A couple times. It fits the shirt,” he teased with a grin. “I like the dress.”

  “I don’t know what you told Grace, but she came in from lunch and pulled it out of the island collection….even shoes,” she whispered playfully.

  “I noticed…hardly recognized your feet…” Jack waited while the drinks were set. “I think we’re ready to order…I’ll have the Calypso Shrimp Linguine…”

  “I want this one…tropical fruit and grilled chicken on mixed greens, please,” Emily folded the menu and handed it back, carefully shifting in the chair, her legs crossed and palms on the edges of the chair’s arms. “It’s nice here…” She closed her eyes. “You can almost close your eyes and envision nothing but blue green water and white sand on the other side of the railing.”

  “And you in a bikini?” Jack said hopefully.

  “Hmm…I could say I have a shark bite…” She said, eyes wide and laughing with him.

  “I think it might be a little too smooth for that, but…I’m sure someone would buy into that theory,” Jack told her with a chuckle.

  “Elizabeth?” The soft, feminine voice came from their side, a woman about thirty with long blond hair, her carefully made up features surprised. “Everyone’s been so worried about you! Where have you been? We heard the wedding was postponed but no one knew where you’d gone…”

  “I’m sorry…” Emily blinked rapidly, her head shaking slightly. “You’ve made a mistake…”

  Jack moved his chair slightly closer, his hand on hers. “It’s Emily Garrett…and Jack Garrett.”

  “I…Emily…Garrett,” the woman repeated slowly, her eyes leaving Emily’s face only long enough to notice the wedding band on her finger. “I…you look exactly like someone I know…Elizabeth Temple. I’m sorry for bothering you,” she said, still uncertain as she turned and went back inside.

  Jack tightened his hand around hers, lifting it and tugging. “Come back to me, Emily…” There was a blankness inside her eyes that worried him. “The other addresses on your identification…you’ve never gone to explore what and where they are?”

  “No…no…” she pulled her palm free and reached for her water. She drained half the glass before coming up for air. “We talked about instincts. Something about them…it just feels wrong and those addresses make me uncomfortable.”

  “So you haven’t really left the area because of it,” Jack guessed quietly, taking a drink of the ale and moving his hands off the table top for the arrival of their food.

  Emily lifted her fork and dug into the colorful medley laid out on the plate, the fork pointing now and then as she spoke.

  “There really wasn’t any point, Jack.”

  “Curiosity?” He said after chewing a forkful of the spicy pasta.

  “I was…curious, I mean…until the nightmares started,” Emily ate thoughtfully. “This is really good…” She smiled and scooped some onto her fork, her other palm beneath it as she carried it to his mouth. There was something special, something simple and personal about sharing your food with another person, she decided with a sigh.

  “Hmm…it is good…and looks simple enough to make at home,” Jack commented. “And after the nightmares?”

  “I spent lots of hours just sitting and staring at the ocean, trying to decide what to do,” Emily told him. “It would be easy enough…I have the information…just go there. Hey, remember me…but the more I thought, the more I accepted that self-preservation must have erected the wall for a reason. I told you…I’m a coward.”

  “I don’t believe that…I’ve seen you in action,” he tilted his head to catch her eye since she was busy studying some pineapple. He got a grin, so he was satisfied.

  “Abby sent me a recipe to try…” Emily began, shifting their topic. “It’s using something called brining…and it looks really easy…I just have to figure out what all the stuff that she talks about is. I got the internet…should be easy enough…better, I got you,” she declared with a broad grin.

  “What’s in the brine?” Jack didn’t mind the topic shift. He wasn’t sure where he could go with it that didn’t hurt her.

  “Half a cup of brown sugar, half a cup lime juice and three quarters cup cider vinegar. You heat it only until the sugar dissolves. Then add just enough cold water to cover a thawed, whole chicken. She said you do that in the morning, and then about five, pop it in the oven at three fifty for ninety minutes on a baking rack and poof…lime chicken,” Emily recited what she had read with a slight nod. “And she sent one for oven baked cubed potatoes mixed with olive oil and minced garlic. Easy stuff…”

  “We’ll try them this weekend…lots of farmers markets out tomorrow and Sunday,” Jack told her. “We can do some shopping for the week.”

  “You can just take off?”

  “I have a Saturday person…and I know you have Josie…and we’re both closed on Sunday,” Jack finished off the ale and offered a bite of the pasta to her, as she had done. She leaned forward, accepting it and chewing and swallowing, following it with a large gulp of water. “Too spicy for you?”

  “Umm…yeah…yes…” Emily sat back, lifting one of the final pieces of chicken from her plate. “But this was a wonderful lunch…”

  Jack had to agree, signaling for the check at the same time an older woman approached them from the side. He knew her intent. She had been watching them for the last ten minutes.

  “Elizabeth? Marlie told me she came over to talk to you…”

  “My name is Emily Garrett,” Emily stood up and took Jack’s palm after he laid money out for the waitress. “I’m sorry, but you’ve made a mistake.”

  “I’ve phoned your mother, Elizabeth. She’s very concerned about you. You vanished. The wedding was being…”

  “I am sorry,” Emily repeated softly. “But you’ve made a mistake. Excuse us,” she said w
ith a half-smile.

  “Elizabeth, I am your mother’s best friend. Don’t you recognize me? I’ve known you since you were born!” The woman moved to stand in front of Emily. “I know you are Elizabeth Temple,” she declared resolutely.

  “Excuse us,” Emily repeated, stepping around her and leading Jack from the restaurant, her head high.

  “Emily?” Jack saw her lip quiver before she tugged it between her teeth.

  “I’m good…” Her head bobbed slightly, slowing her stride. She knew she was breathing too quickly.

  “You’re cutting off the circulation to my hand, honey…loosen up a little,” Jack teased, the keys in his hand as they approached the car. Another, deeper voice came from behind them. Both turned to see an older man with graying temples running lightly toward them.

  “Excuse me! Could I speak with you a minute?” He slowed as he got closer, his gaze sweeping the pair of them.

  Emily leaned on the front fender of the car, mostly because she wasn’t trusting her knees at the moment.

  “Joe Chester,” he said, offering his palm to Jack.

  “Jack Garrett. What’s the problem?”

  “No problem…my wife is Alicia and daughter Marlie…they said they tried to speak to Elizabeth…”

  “I told them they made a mistake,” Emily said firmly.

  “And that’s what I told them…lots of people look alike…until we saw you come to this car,” he said quietly, aware of the approach of the rest of his family.

  “I…the car?” Emily stood up, watching the two women and a young man approach them.

  “Elizabeth received it as a gift from her grandparents for her birthday last year…along with the vanity plate on it,” he nodded simply to the front where Emily was moving. “EET-32…Elizabeth Emily Temple and her age. So you see…”

  Jack saw several things going wrong at the same time. Emily moved to look at the plate, her eyes closed for a long minute as the younger man came up behind her and hugged her, tightly. Emily’s groan was loud and pain-filled, her slender body doubling over at the same time Jack made it to her side, catching her before she hit the pavement.

  “I…what’d I do? I just…” The younger man anxiously dropped to his heels. “Elizabeth…it’s me…Eric?”

  “What happened? What’s wrong with her?” Joe Chester demanded, holding his wife close to him.

  “There was a robbery attempt a couple days ago,” Jack said quietly, lifting Emily against him. “Emily got caught with a knife to the side….right where you hugged.” He stood up, aimed the alarm and released the door, nodding gratefully when Eric hurriedly moved to pull it wide open for him. “Thanks. Emily…stay with me…”

  “Jack…it hurts…I’m good…”

  “Do you want me to take you to the ER?”

  “No…no…I want…I want to go home,” she whispered, pleading with wide eyes filled with tears. “Please…can we just go home?”

  “You got it,” Jack promised, buckling the belt and standing up, closing the door carefully. “Look…” His palm ran over his neck, his head shaking. “Just let it go, okay? For her own reasons, Emily doesn’t want anything to do with her past right now. I’m sorry.”

  He moved to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting the car. It turned to his commands, easily and quietly heading them along the road to the shops.

  “Oh god…it throbs like crazy…” Emily groaned softly, pushing her feet against the floor and straightening up steadily, her head pushed back into the seat. “Now we know…don’t hug too tight…”

  “When we get back to your shop, get out of that dress…”

  “This is your seductive technique? Needs work,” she teased through a long breath.

  “And let me check to see if anything was damaged,” Jack continued, though he did grin and shake his head. His girl was tough, he mused. “Then put the vest and skirt thing back on…”

  “Yes, sir,” Emily put her hand over his. “Thank you…it was a wonderful lunch,” she paused for a quiet minute. “I have a vanity plate.”

  “I noticed. So you were right…a fairy grandmother gave you the car,” Jack commented mildly, watching the single tear roll over her cheek. “You’re feeling guilty.”

  “I am feeling so much right now,” she agreed, sighing heavily. “I don’t want to think. I want to…to create and sew…dig in glitter and sequins and tomorrow, I want to wander through markets and cook with you all weekend.”

  “I can give you that, Emily,” he promised, carrying her hand to his lips as he parked the sports car. Emily stepped out and walked carefully into the back of the shop, applying a smile he knew she’d keep there. She was in a place she felt happy and at peace. Jack pulled the tarp from inside the SUV and hurriedly covered the sports car, locking everything down before going into the shop behind her.

  Emily stood behind the dressing screen, leaning on the desk while Grace took the zipper down. “I’ll take care of the dress, Emily…I have the cookies and little muffins out for Art Walk Night and Josie should be here anytime.”

  “Josie has arrived,” Called out a chipper short haired young blonde, her pack dropping behind one of the desks and interested eyes watching the three people. “Hi…you’re new…”

  “Josie…this is Jack Garrett…the shop next door?” Emily stepped out of the dress and kept her back to them, dropping her skirt over her head. “Thanks, Grace…you can head out then. We’ll manage this…have a great weekend!”

  “Hold still, Emily,” Jack ordered, his hands on her waist as he lowered the skirt to her hips and peeled back a corner of the lengthy gauze and tape. “It’s a little on the red side…but no bleeding…you’re in the clear.”

  “You were gonna try and haul me back to the ER, weren’t you?” She asked, hastily picking up her vest and putting it on, turning to find Josie staring between the pair and Jack turning to head out the back door. Those damn green eyes meeting hers without faltering.

  “There would have been no try about it, Emily,” Jack told her with his typical self-assurance, disappearing around the corner.

  Emily made a growling face at him and went to find her water bottle, taking a long, deep swallow.

  “Alrighty…I was here last Saturday…” Josie commented, going around the shop and straightening things up and watching Emily pull the mannequin she was working before her desk.

  “Yeah, well…let’s say we’re past the ‘go ahead, Em, ask him out to lunch’ stage,’ Emily told her slowly, letting her get to what she was working on before talking again. She could hear Jack and Chet next door and she had seen the scowl on Jack’s face when he remembered Art Walk Night in the small seaside town.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jack walked through the front door as Josie was lifting her pack and headed out with a wave, the lock sliding into place behind her. He looked at the outfit draped over the curving mannequin and shoved his hands in his pockets, just staring. He wasn’t sure how the thing stayed together. It had one inch metal rings forming the sides of the hips and connecting to scarves of a pale, shimmering copper.

  “Isn’t it gorgeous?” Emily asked, looking up with a couple pins in her mouth. “Anya found the picture of it on the cover of a dance CD and we’re adapting it.”

  “To wear?” He knew the words came out a hell of a lot higher than were meant to. “In public?”

  “Yes, in public and yes, to wear. It’s for belly dancing.”

  Jack swallowed and felt his body react when he imagined Emily in the shimmering scarves. The top began at a metal band around the throat, scarves attached and draping down over the breasts, circling the back and falling in a gentle ripple between the breasts. Emily was attaching small bells to the band beneath the breasts. Jack took a closer step, leaning slightly over to peer behind the mannequin, the globes of her behind barely covered.

  “And it stays in place when she dances?”

  “Jack…please…it’s all about illusion,” Emily set the pins down and stood up sl
owly, admiring her work. “I have more scarves to add…but it’ll be good. We’re putting names in a hat to see who gets to wear it first.”

  “We? In public?” Jack scowled, his eyes going from her to the mannequin.

  “Yes, Jack…the belly dancing club does events like Sea-Fair? And yes, I am part of that and yes…I want a shot at it,” she said gleefully, striding to her desk and getting her keys and small purse. “All done. Ready?”

  “I’m still working on the you in that in front of an audience part,” but he followed her to the door, watching her set the alarms and locks.

  “How is that different from a bikini on the beach?” Emily guessed they were headed to his apartment since he gripped her palm and pulled her along.

  “When I come up with a decent…shareable answer to that one, I’ll let you know,” Jack told her, shoving his key into the lock and pushing the door wide. He latched the security screen in place to allow more air flow and went around opening windows and the patio door.

  “I’ve seen pictures of some of the outfits real belly dancers wore,” Emily laid her bag down and perched on one of the kitchen stools. “We’ve been researching online and come up with some really nice ideas…”

  Jack knew that image was seared into his brain at the moment. He crossed the room and took her face in both his hands, his mouth down hard and hungry upon hers. He knew his lady was strong, easily strong enough for the passion he felt welling within him and she didn’t deny him, nor did she shy from it. Her palms slid over his shirt to grip the sides tightly, her lips parting and tongue matching his stroke for stroke, building a hot fire that burned them both.

  Emily pressed her palms over his chest, the sudden need to feel him sending her fingers to the buttons down the front, opening them and shoving the sides apart. She felt him shudder when her hands touched him, flattened out and caressing along his shoulders and down his sides, back up the center of his chest before winding around his neck. She eagerly returned each kiss, savoring the sensations he was arousing within her. Emily felt his arms begin to tighten around her, only to have him immediately loosen them, his palms beginning their own exploration over her back and lower.