Kim (Beach Brides Book 8)

by Magdalena Scott

  Travis’s brows raised. “What? No way. I’d obsess ten times as much if I wasn’t with you. This way, you get a little vacation, see some sights. Or you can lie around the hotel room or the pool all day if you want.”

  Suzanne grinned, her cheeks turning a bit pink when she saw Jon watching her. He wondered if she would be bored stiff the whole time he and Travis were at the conference.

  What the couple didn’t talk about was the two miscarriages they’d suffered. Travis only told Jon about them when they were preparing to sign up for the conference. He didn’t want to leave Suzanne at home, her doctor advised against flying, and the road trip began to evolve.

  Jon didn’t know much about pregnancy, thank goodness, but for his friends’ sake wanted to do everything possible to keep Suzanne well and comfortable.

  Travis laughed suddenly, jerking Jon out of his reverie. “Hey, Jonny-boy, tell Suzanne the fishing trip story. You know, when you caught every bit of trash in ten square miles of ocean? I’ve told her, but I know it’ll be a lot funnier if you do your version.”

  Jon groaned silently. He would never live down that story but, at least, if he told the tale, it wouldn’t be as grossly overstated as he knew was currently circulating. Making the miles go past more quickly was an incentive, and by the time they reached David’s house, he’d be done with the story.

  “Okay, if I must. Suzanne, you know the way your husband and our other so-called friends like to pick on each other? Well, that fishing trip, it seemed to be my turn to be the butt of all jokes.” He paused, remembering as if it were yesterday and deciding how to tell it, while omitting what he didn’t want to share.

  ****

  Jon pulled with all his might on the industrial-strength fishing pole. Finally, this would be something worth keeping. His buddies had all reeled in a big fish. Some had been photographed and thrown back, but they would be grilling Ryan’s catch at their rented condo tonight. Maybe Jon could provide tomorrow’s lunch. So far he had only provided laughs for his friends with the array of ocean-garbage he’d snagged his line on.

  A few minutes later, Travis, leaning over the rail, started to laugh. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Jonny-boy.”

  He wanted to cut the line right then, knowing there was no fish. Again.

  The guys all took out their phones and photographed him while he pulled each item out of the seaweed-entangled remains of an old net. A deflated Mylar balloon, the rings from a pack of aluminum cans, some plastic shopping bags, and a large rubber boot.

  Dustin held up the boot with a thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know, Jon. Maybe you should keep this boot and try again. With your amazing luck, you might pull in its mate.” He handed the slimy boot to Jon, and the phone cameras went off again.

  Jon noticed the boot wasn’t empty. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see what it contained, but curiosity took over. He held it as far from his face as he could to avoid being overwhelmed by the stench and still see what was in it. He pulled out a wine bottle, and the guys started laughing again.

  Ryan slapped him on the back. “Hey, Jon, is that a priceless vintage that fell overboard a couple hundred years ago? That would be almost better than a decent-sized fish.”

  No, it wasn’t a priceless vintage. The label of a middle-grade winery was mostly gone, and the bottle was stoppered but empty.

  Or was it?

  Travis grabbed the bottle from Jon and held it aloft. “Oh, wow, check this out. Message in a bottle. Could be your dream girl, Jonny-boy.” Brows raised above his laughing eyes, he handed the bottle back and clasped his hands in mock anticipation. “Okay, we’re waiting.”

  Jon felt the heat on his neck. The ribbing was typical, but for some reason, discovering the message in a bottle was something he didn’t feel like being jabbed about. “Yeah? Waiting for what?”

  Dustin’s eyes rolled. “Open it, idiot. Let’s see what it says.”

  Just to shut them up, he worked at the stopper until it finally released. A note, tightly bound with a red hair bungee, slid out. He read it quickly, expecting it to be something ridiculous. But instead, the simple, heartfelt note tugged at his jaded heart. Here was a woman who thought little of herself and didn’t expect to find love it seemed, by message in a bottle or any other means. Maybe he was reading between the lines too much. He had a tendency to do that—Andrea told him so plenty of times.

  Andrea. Yeah, Jon didn’t need to swoon over a note in a bottle. He was engaged to a blond bombshell.

  He rolled up the note, secured it with the bungee, slid it back down the throat of the bottle, and replaced the stopper. Then he tossed the bottle aside. It landed with a thud on the pile of garbage he had pulled in during the expensive fishing trip. “Satellite TV ad. Let’s go below and get a beer.”

  The guys were always relentless in picking on each other, and today his poor luck at fishing meant it was his turn to be on the receiving end. It was all part of their typical interplay, and he knew the best defense was to ignore them and divert their attention. Beer was sometimes quite useful for this. A game on TV was another winner, but the fishing boat for tourists off the coast of Florida didn’t provide TV. Evidently, they expected the participants to be satisfied with a day on the ocean, camaraderie, food, and drink.

  Go figure.

  At the highly polished bar below deck, Jon bought a round for everyone and settled into one of the chairs, joining in the conversation about the Cubs’ chances of winning the World Series this year. That was much better than thinking about the stupidly romantic idea of a message in a bottle.

  In spite of himself, his mind wouldn’t let go of the bottle with the piece of paper scrolled inside.

  The rest of the fishing excursion was uneventful. Jon didn’t try again, opting to cheer his buddies on, leaning against the rail, inhaling the salty air, and being generally awed by the never-ending expanse of the ocean that met the bowl of an intense blue sky. In spite of his lack of fishing luck, today was perfect. Great weather, plenty of good-natured ribbing at his expense, decent food and drink.

  He and the guys had done trips together every year for a while now. At the airport when he was waiting for his flight to meet the others, he had fallen into conversation with an elderly gentleman who was on his way to spend a week with his friends. The old man’s face was a lined map of his life, and when he spoke of the friends he was going to meet, his eyes sparkled. He had clapped Jon on the shoulder. “The boys and I have been doing this trip every year for forty years, young man. I hope you and your friends will reach that milestone. I’ll tell you, it’s worth trying.”

  Jon had muttered something in agreement, in awe of the man and his friends and forty years of making their relationship a priority. How great was that?

  Jon would love to achieve such a record, but he didn’t know about some of the others. Three of them were married now; one was a dad, and another would be in a few months. Already they had to avoid the birthdays of wives and one child when comparing calendars to schedule their trip. Soon there’d be the complication of even more kids’ birthdays and, before long, their sports events. Jon knew the guys wouldn’t intentionally let their friendships fade into the background, but that was part of what women did.

  Yeah, Jon knew all about how women could change your life. Being in a relationship started out seeming like a good idea, then a great idea. Andrea was gorgeous; he was lucky she was interested in him. But he wasn’t sure how they’d ended up engaged.

  Was he ready for that commitment? From one day to the next, he didn’t know what to expect of her.

  Travis punched his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. “What are you dreaming about, Jonny-boy?”

  He stood up straight, preparing his rebuff and feeling a slow smile appear. “Just wondered if we could lower you with a rope around your feet and use you as bait for some real fish.”

  Travis laughed. “Unless somebody else is manning the poles, there’s no use in even trying that, Jon. You better be happy
with your bottle in a boot and leave the fishing to the real men.”

  Jon laughed with him. Fishing wasn’t the point of the trip. Spending time with his buddies was the point.

  When Travis turned back toward the rail, Jon looked at the pile of garbage again. The boot was there, but he couldn’t see the bottle. Must have gotten hidden under something else. He’d find a quiet moment later and retrieve the note.

  But even after he bought another round of beers downstairs and excused himself to use the “head” then slipped up on deck, he couldn’t locate the bottle. Had it somehow been discarded overboard again? Had someone else opened it, read the note, and laughed at it? He shrugged, trying not to care. Trying not to feel he’d just missed the chance of a lifetime. He remembered part of the note, but not the email address. What he knew he’d never forget was the way the woman’s words had affected him.

  Andrea’s face jumped into his head. Jon was engaged to an exciting, beautiful woman. His future was on course. At this point in his life, he didn’t need to start obsessing over possibilities.

  ****

  When Jon finished telling the tale, carefully omitting the content of the note and how it made him feel, he looked to the backseat for Suzanne’s reaction. Her eyes were closed, and her head tipped to one side.

  “Good job, Jonny boy,” Travis said softly. “Lulled her right to sleep with your riveting remembrances. She needs the rest, so maybe you can tell the story again later.”

  Jon chuckled. Fine by him that Suzanne hadn’t heard the whole thing. It was an embarrassment to his manhood. But more than that, each time he thought of the fishing expedition, he wondered what happened to the bottle and note. What if he had stuck the note in his pocket, and emailed the woman? He was surprised, after what he’d been through with Andrea, that he was even a tiny bit romantic.

  As the only one of the college friends still single, he had the image of bachelor-for-life. The guys and their wives had been working on him in the last couple of years, trying to set him up. If he went to visit their homes, they’d have a dinner party planned, with an extra woman, single, smart, and beautiful. Without exception, he enjoyed their company, and just as universally, he’d been glad to say good-bye when they parted ways.

  Two women, for wildly different reasons, had helped Jon realize he was a bad risk when it came to relationships—his ex-fiancée Andrea and Emily Standish’s friend Kim.

  Chapter Three

  Kim’s suitcase stood inside the door of David and Emily’s house. Emily had insisted on picking her up, so Kim’s car could be in the garage of her duplex out of the weather while she was gone. Emily would check on Handsome, Kim’s cat, every day and even said she didn’t mind cleaning out the litter pan. Emily was a true friend in every possible way.

  Kim sat on the couch, reading a picture book to Isabel. Kim was trying to do voices for the characters, and when she hit on a good one, Isabel giggled.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to help in the kitchen, Emily?”

  “You are helping, my dear. And doing a lovely job with the rabbits’ voices. David should be here any minute. He’d better be, or Travis, Suzanne...” She turned away, toward the stove. “They may get here before he’s back. I hope not.”

  “Hmm. I’m getting a diaper-change vibe, Emily. Want me to take care of it?”

  Emily stopped what she was doing. “That’s okay. I will.” She came around the end of the bar and picked up her daughter. “So, maybe you could make sure nothing burns?” She and Isabel made their way to the bedroom and the changing table.

  Chuckling, Kim stood and stretched and went into the galley kitchen. She checked the pots, peeked into the oven. Everything looked and smelled delicious. Having a big brunch felt like she was truly on vacation.

  Emily’s phone, sitting on the bar between kitchen and living area, sounded an alert. Without thinking, Kim automatically looked at it. It was a text from David. He always had some task to do on the family Christmas tree farm when he was home on weekends from his working travels.

  tsj- ten mins. ill be there

  Well, that was a bit cryptic. Since the food was fine, Kim decided to set the table. Emily had laid out the plates, glasses, and cloth napkins on the countertop. Kim picked them up, went to the table, and started to lay the places. Her hands stopped when she realized there were six of each, plus plastic ones for Isabel.

  Her stomach sank. She thought back to David’s hurried text. T was Travis, and S was Suzanne. Who is J? She was afraid she knew. And if she was right, she would be back home with her suitcase very soon. No way would she let herself get stuck in a car with Jon Whitfield.

  No wonder Emily had offered to take care of Kim’s neurotic cat, and said she didn’t mind cleaning out the litter box. Kim was being set up.

  ****

  The sedan crested the last emerald-green hill and laid below them was the little town of Serendipity. The castle-like limestone courthouse, majestically located in the center of the town square, could be seen even from here, a couple of miles away.

  Travis slowed to the posted speed limit of forty, then thirty miles an hour, and when they approached the square, traffic was at a crawl.

  Jon saw it all happen in slow motion, which it almost was. Travis stopped to let someone pull out of a diagonal parking space in front of one of the shops on the square. There was nothing he could do about it, but in his side mirror Jon watched the pickup truck run right into the rear of Travis’s car. They were jolted, and the crunch of steel on steel set his teeth on edge

  People from the sidewalk were at the car immediately. David’s sister, Carla, who had a shop right there, talked to Suzanne, called Emily, then 911. An ambulance came. Soon Suzanne and Travis were on their way to Serendipity Hospital, and Carla drove Jon to join them. The whole thing was surreal. An eternity later, everyone was pronounced fine, though the ER doctor cautioned Suzanne to find a quiet place to get extra rest. Not the hospital, thank goodness. None of them wanted that.

  ****

  Seven people sat at David and Emily’s table with what would have been a beautiful meal if not for the wreck. The overcooked food and Kim Rose’s sullen expression didn’t help Jon’s appetite. Little Isabel chattered almost constantly, as if trying to make up for the adults’ mood.

  Jon speared a sausage link. “The truck driver was looking down, and so was the girl with him. I saw it; they were probably texting. The police said they would check on that. It’s the same in Tennessee. I’ve seen drivers with their phones in hand, speeding down the interstate.”

  Travis looked miserable. He seemed to blame himself. “The question is, now what? The meal is great, Emily, and we meant to hang out for a while and visit you guys, but we’re behind schedule what with the accident and the trip to the hospital. I’m thankful the ER doc put my mind at ease about Suzanne.” His wife was sitting next to him, and he slid an arm around her shoulders. “But we need to get going if we’re still going to make the whole conference. From here we have at least an eleven-hour drive. Probably should have built an extra day in, but we didn’t.”

  Emily stood and refilled everyone’s coffee mugs. “Suzanne could stay here. Isabel and I would be glad to have her.”

  Suzanne held up a hand. “You’re so sweet, Emily. But I feel fine, and I’ve been looking forward to this trip ever since Travis mentioned it. Plus, Kim is a nurse, so if I have any problems, she’ll be right there. She and I have plans for when the guys are busy. Right, Kim?”

  Kim’s smile was halfhearted. She sagged into her chair, shot a brief glare at Jon.

  Suzanne continued, hand on her tummy, “Travis and I are looking so forward to welcoming little Elliott into the world. But we’re realistic; life will be forever changed once he’s born. So I’m racking up lots of memories of life before kids.”

  Emily cleared her throat. “Kim, you’ve met Jon before, right? I’m sorry. In all the craziness that happened today, it just occurred to me that I didn’t make introductions.”<
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  Kim nodded, looking directly into Jon’s eyes for the first time. “Yes, we’ve met. You and your fiancée were here for the wedding.”

  “Ex-fiancée.” He didn’t expound on that. The state of his love-life was none of her business, and he’d told his friends what had happened with Andrea.

  Jon could tell that Kim had been as unaware of his being on this trip as he had about her planning to come along to hang out with Suzanne. No wonder Travis and his wife had let some sentences trail off while finalizing plans and on the drive up. They’d probably been about to mention the fourth member of their traveling circus.

  They knew if they had mentioned Kim, Jon would have reneged. Not because they had any idea of how she had behaved toward him, but because they knew that, post-Andrea, Jon was now relationship-resistant.

  Jon and Travis could have flown, met at the conference, and avoided all this. If they had, Suzanne would be safe at home and Kim would be nowhere near him. But he had to deal with the current situation. He would not bail on his friends. If Suzanne was determined to make the trip, having a nurse along was a plus, no matter how awkward it was for him. He cleared his throat. “We’ll need a rental car.”

  David shook his head, rose from the table, went to the door that led to the garage, and took a set of keys off a hook. He returned and handed them to Jon. “Take the Suburban.”

  Emily groaned softly.

  David kissed the top of her head before reclaiming his seat. “Okay. Warning. It’s a mess inside. But the oil was changed last week, and it’s a good ride. Plenty of room for your stuff in the back, and space for everyone to be comfortable.”

  “That’s so kind, David,” Suzanne said. “But we could rent a car or a small SUV.”

  David, Emily, and Kim all shook their heads.

  “Afraid not,” David said. “We haven’t had a car rental lot in town for a few years now. Please take the Suburban. Of course, you’ll be out some money feeding my beloved gas hog.” He took out his wallet and produced a gas card.