Boardwalk Summer

by Kimberly Fisk

  “Yes, ma’am,” Nick said, and while his voice gave nothing away to Mrs. Roseburg, Hope heard the underlying tension.

  “Hmmm. Thought so. Heard your dad passed a few years back. Sorry to hear,” Mrs. Roseburg said as an afterthought.

  “I wasn’t.” Nick didn’t mince his words.

  Mrs. Roseburg pursed her lips. “Don’t s’pose you were. Pair of hell raisers, you were. Pure and simple. Did this town more harm than good. Carrying on, drinking. Fighting. And Lord a’mighty. The way you would tear through this town in anything with four wheels! Hard to believe you didn’t kill yourself or”—she shot a look at Hope—“anyone else. Don’t think they ever rebuilt that tavern you plowed into with your daddy’s truck.” She reached into the large front pocket of her apron and withdrew an embroidered handkerchief. “Not that a tavern did anyone any good.”

  “They rebuilt it.” Nick’s voice didn’t carry a hint of emotion.

  Mrs. Roseburg wiped her nose before tucking her handkerchief back into her apron pocket. “You haven’t been back since you left. I would’ve heard if you had been. So how do you know they rebuilt it?”

  “I know.”

  The definiteness in Nick’s voice told Hope all she needed to know. Somehow he had played a major role in making that happen. Undoubtedly financed its complete rebuild, if not pounded some of the boards himself.

  Mrs. Roseburg harrumphed. “Well, your daddy’s with our Savior now. Maybe He—”

  “My father was an alcoholic and a mean son of a bitch who didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone. Where he’s at there isn’t any salvation.”

  The elderly woman drew back. “I see you haven’t changed. Still as blasphemous as your father.” She abruptly turned from Nick and spoke only to Hope. “Your mother’s not home.”

  Hope had been staring at Nick. Something about the way his jaw had hardened and his posture had stiffened told her that Mrs. Roseburg’s words affected him more than he wanted to let on. Hope felt the need to reach out and comfort him, but just as quickly as the thought came, she shook it off. Comfort him about what? He was rich and successful. A celebrity. Surely his bruises from childhood had long ago faded. And then Mrs. Roseburg’s words penetrated.

  Hope whipped back around and faced her mother’s neighbor. “She’s gone? My mother’s not home?”

  “Left yesterday. Won’t be home until tomorrow.”

  * * *

  “I can’t believe she wasn’t home.” Hope said for the fifth time from the passenger seat.

  Nick chose not to answer, just like he had the other four times. Come to think of it, he hadn’t said a word since he’d shoved his cell phone number into the old woman’s hand, told her to call the minute Claire returned, and then all but dragged Hope away from that place.

  Aren’t you Jack Fortune’s boy?

  Nick’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. Jack Fortune’s boy. No matter where he went or what he achieved, some people would never see him as anything but the son of the town drunk. Not that his teenage exploits had improved their perception. The opposite, in fact.

  When Nick was ten and his mother had died, he’d tried to be perfect. Perfect son. Perfect student. He didn’t want to cause his father any more grief. But no matter how hard Nick tried in school and at home, nothing made a difference. By the time he was fourteen and his father had all but abandoned him, except when he needed a whipping post or another bottle, or a ride home from the bar he’d gotten kicked out of after they’d confiscated his keys, Nick was through being good. He erupted with as much force and fanfare as a volcano. If the town was going to paint him with the same black brush they used for his father, by God, Nick was going to make sure they applied a heavy coat on him. From that day forward, he set out to earn every one of the disapproving looks the townspeople had been throwing his way for years.

  Nick’s gaze slid to Hope. He felt his grip loosen. Only she had seen him differently. Glimpsed something in him he’d never seen himself. But what that had been, Nick had never figured out. Probably because it hadn’t existed. Didn’t exist.

  Ever since Hope had landed in his arms he’d been having fantasies he was better off not having. Oh, who was he kidding? Those fantasies had started almost from the first moment he’d seen her again.

  They came to an intersection. Nick eased up on the gas. Almost two decades had passed since he’d driven these roads, but he knew them as well as he knew his way around a racetrack. He looked right and then left, then back to the right. After a moment, he flicked on the signal and headed right. Into town.

  “Where are we going?” Obviously believing he wasn’t going to answer that question either, she immediately followed with, “Do I need to repeat that question too?”

  He eased down on the gas, got the car back up to speed. “We need to find a hotel and then grab something to eat.”

  “Hotel?” The hitch in her voice didn’t go unnoticed.

  He turned at the next intersection. “Where did you think we’d spend the night? Surely not at your mother’s.”

  “No, but I just thought . . . I mean . . .”

  “You thought what?” Her expression was hidden from him as she stared out the passenger window.

  Hope expelled a long breath. “You don’t need to do this. You don’t have to stay. Claire’s my problem and I’m sure there’s somewhere else you should be. Just drop me in town. You can take the rental car to the airport. I’ll get another car and after I see Claire, I can catch a commercial flight home.”

  There was somewhere else Nick should be. Somewhere where a lot of people were expecting him—counting on him. He’d never let down his crew before; the complete opposite, in fact. But even as he entertained the idea that he should leave, fly out to the race, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You have it all worked out, I see.” Anger simmered through him.

  Her gaze was still fixated out the window, studiously avoiding him. Well, what he had to say was too important for her to ignore.

  He pulled the car off the road and onto the shoulder, then shoved it into park. The car lurched forward, then settled. Startled, she faced him.

  “Joshua is my son too,” he said with a simple finality. “Whether you like it or not, I’m staying. We’re getting a hotel room for the night and then we’re going to get something to eat.”

  “Oh, God.” Fear flared across her features.

  “Not the usual response when I invite a lady out to dinner.”

  For a brief moment her look of distress was replaced by one of annoyance before returning to one of worry. Obviously she didn’t like his reference to other women.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head, then repeated herself more forcibly. “No, that’s not it. Today is Friday. Tomorrow Saturday.”

  “Your point being?”

  She pursed her lips and sent him an exasperated look. “The doctor’s office is open today. A weekday. Even if my mother returns tomorrow, that’s Saturday. The office will be closed and won’t reopen until Monday. I can’t be away from the kids that long. I can’t—”

  “Whenever Claire returns, weekend or weekday, middle of the day or middle of the night, the doctor will see us.”

  “But how?”

  “Having a face and name people recognize can be a real pain in the ass but there are times it can be a benefit, too. You don’t need to worry; the doctor will see us whenever I call.”

  The tension around her eyes lessened and she sank against the seat. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say but thank you.”

  Nick felt his temper rise once more. “Stop thanking me.”

  Hope didn’t seem to hear him. “But really, what I said earlier still goes. You don’t need to stay. Who knows when Claire will return. Like I said, you can leave and I’ll—”

  Nick shoved the car
back into drive and burned rubber as he pulled back out onto the road, effectively shutting her up. She was never going to accept that he was Susan and Joshua’s father. That being here was just as important to him as it was to her. Well too damn bad.

  But as they got closer to town he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he should have taken the easy way out. Maybe he should leave. And then maybe, maybe he would stop thinking about the long night ahead. With just the two of them. In a hotel.

  Thirteen

  HOPE stared down at the unopened suitcase on the hotel bed, unsure of how it had even gotten here. Unsure of how she’d gotten here. Before she’d even had time to react to Nick’s assertion that he was staying until they saw Claire, he’d found a hotel, checked them in, and then ushered her to this room with a parting statement that he’d be back in an hour to take her to dinner. Hope didn’t know what she found most infuriating—Claire not being home, Nick’s highhandedness in believing she’d do whatever he said, or the fact that she’d been worried he’d get only one room and not two.

  She looked around her room—her single room. Obviously that was one worry she didn’t need to have.

  This afternoon when she’d fallen into his arms and felt the breath go out of her—not from the fall, but from being so near to him—she’d thought he’d been as affected as she’d been. But that in a nutshell summed up their whole existence all those years ago. When she’d been so young, too young, and so much in love. More in love with him that he’d ever been with her. Once again she silently cursed herself, wondering when her weakness for Nick Fortune would ever go away.

  She slumped down onto the bed, reached for her phone, and saw she’d missed two calls from Ben. She felt guilty; she hadn’t returned his call from the other night. But there was more to her sense of guilt, and that she didn’t want to examine too closely. They’d only been on a dozen dates or so and Hope wouldn’t even call all of them dates. Half of them had been just to grab coffee. Ben had never even met the twins. But still she felt like she had been disloyal. Before she could think twice, she called his number.

  “I was hoping I’d hear from you,” Ben said after answering. “How’s Joshua?”

  “He’s good. The same. I’m sorry I haven’t called you back sooner. Life has been . . .”

  “I get it,” he said. “I mean, I don’t have children so I can’t understand everything you’re going through, but I can try.”

  Hope scraped her hair away from her face, let it fall down her back. “You really are a great guy,” she said in all sincerity.

  “Why do I feel a but coming on?”

  Hope didn’t say anything for several moments. Was there a but? She hadn’t thought so when she’d called him, but now . . . She looked to the room’s far wall, to the door that connected her room to Nick’s. “Life has become complicated,” she said, trying to find her way through a conversation she hadn’t planned on having.

  “Would this have something to do with the twins’ father?”

  Hope sucked in a breath. “How—Why would you ask that?”

  Ben gave a short chuckle but it held no mirth. “I might not be the sharpest tack in the pack, but the minute you told me you were contacting him, I worried something like this might happen.”

  “Nothing has happened,” Hope said quickly. “Nothing will happen. It’s not that. It’s just that my life right now is . . .”

  “Complicated,” he said, parroting her word. He let out a long sigh. “Hope, if I thought I had a snowball’s chance, I’d put up a hell of a fight for you.”

  “Ben, it’s not like that.”

  “Take care, Hope. And know that I’m pulling for Joshua. For all of you.”

  What was happening? How had a simple phone call turned into this?

  “Ben, wait.”

  “Good-bye, Hope.”

  The line went dead.

  She stared at the phone, still not exactly sure what had happened. She had no thoughts of breaking up with Ben when she’d called him, but she hadn’t been the one to break up. He had. Shouldn’t she feel devastated or sad and not relieved? It had been a struggle to find the time to see him. Every time he asked her out, she had felt guilty having to turn him down once again. But dating Ben—dating anyone—right now was not something she desired. She should have been honest with him weeks ago. Why hadn’t she been? Because he was a great guy and she hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings.

  There was only one thing to do after breaking up with your kinda-not-exactly boyfriend.

  Dana answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Hey you.”

  “Hey you.” Dana’s voice spiked in pleased recognition as she repeated their standard greeting.

  “I spoke with Josh earlier and he said you had stopped by. Thank you. I hate the thought of him being in that room all day with only doctors and nurses for company.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. You know that.”

  “I know, but thanks anyway.” Hope brushed the hair off her forehead. “And Susan? She didn’t answer her cell when I called.”

  “She and Chelsey headed to the mall this afternoon.”

  Had it really only been this morning that Hope had left? In those few hours, she felt as if she’d lived a week. Today had been a roller coaster of emotion. Worry over Joshua. Her mother. Ben. Nick.

  Nick.

  How had their lives become so intertwined in such a short amount of time? But it wasn’t a short amount of time. Whether Nick was a physical presence or merely a memory, he had always been a part of her.

  “I’m glad the girls are having fun,” Hope told Dana. “And you? Everything okay at home?”

  “Everything’s fine. Stop worrying.”

  “As if.”

  They both laughed softly but without any real humor.

  “Did you remember to feed Fonz?”

  “You’re asking about a turtle? Something’s going on. Spill.”

  Hope expelled a deep breath. She never could hide anything from Dana.

  Hope was spending the night in a town she didn’t want to be in, near a man she was afraid she was once again falling for. But those were the last things Hope wanted to talk about, so instead she said, “Ben broke up with me.”

  “Good.”

  “Good? That’s all you have to say? You who’ve been none too silent on your feelings toward him?”

  “He wasn’t right for you and you know it. You never even introduced him to the kids, and don’t tell me it was because Josh is sick—you started dating Ben a couple months before. And I won’t even talk about the lack of spark between you two. You were like brother and sister. You need someone with heat. Someone with passion. Someone with speed!”

  Speed. Didn’t take a genius to see where Dana’s mind was headed. “Knock it off. I’m here to see my mother. The woman who can’t leave her house except for God and groceries has decided to take a trip and is gone until tomorrow.”

  Dana was silent for a moment. “I’m so sorry. I know how anxious you are to talk to her. How important it is.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Stay until I see her. As long as you’re okay and can manage another day.”

  “Don’t worry about anything on this end. I’ve got it covered. I’m even remembering to charge my phone.”

  Hope smiled. “But are you remembering to keep it with you?”

  “Yes!” Dana said with mock indignation. Then she said, “So let’s talk about what you’re avoiding and what I’m dying to know. Where are you sleeping tonight, and, more importantly, who’s staying with you?”

  Leave it to Dana to cut to the chase.

  “I’m staying at Ten Lakes Motel,” Hope said, answering the easier of the two questions.

  “And?” Dana asked with just a little too much enthusiasm.r />
  Hope twirled a loose thread on the hotel comforter around her finger. “And nothing.”

  “And nothing, my big toe. Don’t think you can fly out of here with that man and not fill me in.”

  Hope knew it was pointless to try to evade Dana’s questions. “Yes, Nick’s staying here.” She pulled the thread, tugging at it until it broke.

  “One room or two?”

  “Two,” she said quickly, then added, “as if that was ever a question.”

  “I can hope, can’t I? If I was trapped overnight. In. A. Hotel. With Nick Fortune—”

  “Stop saying his name like that.”

  “Like what? Like he’s a god? Um. He kinda is. Have you looked at him? H. O. T. Hot! The man has action figures modeled after him, for crying out loud. Tell me the rooms are connecting, at least.”

  Hope looked toward the interior door that led to Nick’s room. “Not adjoining,” she lied, and then added to the fib. “He’s not even on the same floor. There’s a . . . a convention in town and the place is all but booked solid.”

  “Hmmm.” Dana didn’t sound convinced. “You know you can’t avoid him forever. He is Joshua’s father.”

  Like she could forget. “I’m not avoiding him.”

  “If I know you, you’re going to sit in that hotel room by yourself, without eating or sleeping, until you’re able to see Claire tomorrow.”

  “I’ll sleep.”

  Another lie, but this time they both knew it.

  “What about dinner? You have to eat.”

  “Actually”—Hope plucked at another loose string—“I’m going to dinner with Nick.” Why had she gone and said that? There was no way she was going to have dinner with Nick. No way at all.

  “Well, good for you. You two need to talk. Now listen, before you go out, look in your suitcase. I packed a couple of extra things just in case something like this came up. And before you yell at me, remember, a man is more amiable when staring across the table at a beautiful woman dressed in a killer little black number.”

  Hope caught her reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. “You’re my best friend, so you have to be blind not only to my faults but my physical appearance. And God bless you for that. But only you think I’m beautiful.”