by Lori Power
Reaching into her arm-band holder, she cranked the music louder. Mother would certainly frown if she heard me listening to racy dance music. That would never do. She would only think, yet again, that I am a child who is unwilling to grow up and act my age. I tried to be conservative like her and tried to be what her society expected of me. But I’m not that person and never will be. I want to be wild and run free, barefoot even, and be who I am on the inside. Time for an identity readjustment—a phrase for the thirty-something, unmarried women who weren’t quite sure of their path.
Winded, Vivian slowed her pace to a walk, changing course from the track she had been following to a trail leading to the rocky beach. Music still played strong in her ears as she walked along the uneven ground. She admired the lapping water and the houses in the distance that looked like a painted picture on a Monet across the harbour. The wharf was up ahead and small cottages that reflected their own private get away.
Finding a large, flat rock to sit on, she tilted her face toward the last rays of the evening sun. Enjoying the sun’s warmth on her skin, she bopped her head, singing along with the music as sweat poured down her face and neck.
On her stride back to the lodging, she would switch to an audio book. Listening to a good book on tape was part of her cool down method, but for just a few minutes more she would continue to enjoy the heavy base rock and pop tunes—body moving music she wanted to lose herself into.
****
Tuck stepped on the back porch of his parent’s home, fitting his sun glasses over his eyes when he heard something. He paused to listen closer. Someone was singing down on the beach. He followed the sound of the female voice.
The identity of the singer couldn’t be anyone he knew. Surly no one from town would perch below his parent’s house to sing pop music off key. Curious, he strode to the end of the lawn and glanced over the edge, where grass turned to a rocky ledge leading to the beach. He did a double-take at the vision of the woman from the airport. That was her, no doubt about it.
There was no mistaking that long neck and the inky-black hair even more spiky than earlier today. Lowering his glasses down his nose, Tuck watched as she stretched her legs in front of her, crossing her feet at the ankles. What lovely long legs she had. She leaned back as the sun kissed her smooth skin. His fingers ached, watching her weave her fingers through her cropped hair and rubbing the sweat soaked layers from her skin. Supporting her position with one hand behind her back, she continued to lounge on the rock, as if the beach was her living room. Her head bobbed as she sang. Her feet swayed across the sand.
Tuck looked right and left. She’s tonight’s main attraction and she doesn’t even know it. She obviously didn’t realize how close the houses were to the beach, and that there was no such thing as privacy in a small town.
He recognized the song as she continued to sing, slightly off key, and he wondered if she’d give voice to the explicit parts of the song as well.
He smiled, nodding his head, completely amused. There was no doubt in his mind now, this had to be the elusive Vivian. Vivacious Vivian. The name absolutely suited her.
Her sudden move to sit up straight and view her iPod caused him to jump. The song she was listening to, along with the spell he had been under, were both over. Confident he couldn’t be seen standing on the higher embankment, and shrouded by trees, Tuck returned to spying on the beautiful lady at the water’s edge.
Vivian fiddled with her iPod and stretched her legs—those long legs extending and reaching in such flexible ways to set a man’s imagination running wild. She saw the wooden stairs leading to the path back to the roadway. She then walked with purpose across the rocky beach toward the stairs, completely oblivious to anyone watching her. The residents along the beach knew how to be invisible to strangers during tourist season.
Tuck was amused by the minor transgression of trespassing across the lawn as Vivian scrambled up the neighbour’s bank and started toward the road, ignoring the stairs down the beach for such a purpose. A bit of a wild child she was.
Young Marston walked around the edge of his house bordering Tuck’s parent’s property, as though he happened to be going that way. Tuck knew better. The young hound dog. The randy twenty-something kid, who considered himself a man, had probably been watching Vivian the whole time.
Tuck continued to watch from behind a large oak, shielded by the foliage of the trees. He saw Marston wind himself to approach the lovely tourist. “Hey ya,” Marston said as she made to walk past.
Vivian stopped—eyes wide, as if slightly startled at being caught. Marston’s eyes were fixated on her breasts. She kept her composure, popping one ear bud from her ear in a fluid, graceful motion. Vivian turned to say a polite hello to Marston. Though Tuck couldn’t tell for sure, but he was almost certain the boy’s eyes were exploding from their sockets, seeing Vivian’s nipples pushing through the thin fabric of her damp tank top.
She had a nice body Tuck would love to see right next to his. Her breasts were ripe and full, screaming to be touched. And those nipples, Tuck wanted to run his thumb over them and watch them bud, then suckle them…
What am I thinking! Tuck shook his head. His mother would smack the side of his head if she caught him peeking at a woman from behind a tree as though he were a school boy. His mother would admonish him that Vivian was a guest in their house, a client, and by all accounts under their protection while in MacIntosh. A woman not to be ogled by sex-craved males.
“Whatcha listening to?” The younger boy’s eyes were roaming uncontrollably. “Something good, I’d imagine.”
“No, nothing special.” Vivian appeared completely unaware of the audience she had drawn. “I like audio books. You know the books on tape where the narrator reads the story to you. I find them relaxing.”
“You don’t say.” Marston grinned like an innocent child caught doing something wrong. “I’ll have to download one of those and see if it works on me.”
“Yeah, okay.” Vivian started to walk away.
“You’re not from around here.” Marston attempted to halt her escape. “I can tell.”
“No, I’m just visiting for a couple of weeks.” Vivian glanced over her shoulder, still moving along, albeit slowly.
Good going girl. Tuck peered between the branches. Don’t give that boy any more attention then he deserves.
“I’m going to learn to sail, as weird as that may sound. Well, probably not weird to you, because you live here. But, I’m going to try anyway.”
“Oh, ya.” Marston followed Vivian down the path. “With the MacLean’s? Daniel, Nate, or Randy?”
She paused, her teeth showing briefly as she bit her bottom lip. Tuck liked those lips. Pink, not too full, but wide and full of promise. Lips that Tuck would welcome a kiss from.
“I don’t know. I have only been talking with Mrs. MacLean so far.”
“Oh, ya.” Marston continued to follow her toward the road.
Tuck could sense Vivian’s nervousness as she glanced around her surroundings and her fingers curled to fists. She was looking for an escape.
Time to save her from the village idiot. Tuck strode, with what he hoped was a casual gait, toward her.
She raised her clear green eyes to his. “Hello.” Her voice whispered relief.
“Ms. Mitchell?” Tuck extended his hand. He nodded at Marston, receiving a dirty look in return. “I’m Tuck MacLean. I missed you at the airport.” He strived to appear smooth, tucking his thumbs loosely in the front pockets of his pants. “Dad got mixed up on the plaque card and I thought I was looking for a Margaret, not a Vivian.”
“Oh.” She shook his outstretched hand.
For as much as Vivian’s pointed buds deserved attention, unlike Marston—junior leach that he was, Tuck kept his eyes levelled on hers. Holding her hand, he studied her face to see if she recognized him from the airport. His heart sank unexpectedly as he registered her frown in confirmation of his identity. Shit, she probably remembered my l
ame-ass remark about her height.
She released his hand to twine hers together in front of her. Her lovely eyes went cool and her face scrunched. “Yes, I recall bumping into you.”
Though Tuck’s father made a mistake on the plaque card, Tuck’s mother insisted they make up for the error by ensuring Vivian was treated extra special when she arrived for her first lesson. Tuck had been on his way to the flower shop and then the Mariner’s Roost, prior to being side-tracked by her singing on the beach. The general plan was to ply her with flowers and uncompromising maritime hospitality. His ma thought the flowers would be a nice touch.
Unperturbed by her cold gaze, Tuck forced his best smile. “My mother has no patience for blunders. Our clients are top priority. Ma likes everything perfectly arranged and the organization to run smoothly. Unfortunately, we live by the sea with a business dependent on the whims of Mother Nature, so business for us seldom runs without a setback. We apologize for the mistake at the airport and hope to make it up to you.”
****
Vivian forced a smile. “Your mother sounds lovely. I am looking forward to meeting her tomorrow.”
Tuck glanced over his shoulder. “She’s already anticipating meeting you.”
Vivian followed his stare to a blue wood-sided house with three gables. “Is this your house?”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “This is home base. Ma runs the business outta here. My father operates the actual tours on the family dock.” Tuck laughed. “I keep expecting her to come marching around the corner at any moment.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t be walking across the lawn.” Feeling out of her comfort zone, Vivian squeezed her hands tight. Damn, this was not the first impression I had hoped to portray.
“Hey, we’re a small town.” He waved his hand to dismiss her concern. “The ground is for walking, and the sea is for sailing. That’s why you’re here, right?”
“Yes.” She kicked a rock back into the landscaping before lifting her gaze to Tuck, liking that she had to look up to meet his eyes. “To be honest though, I don’t remember seeing you at the airport…outside of bumping into you at the phone booth.” She didn’t voice that if she had she seen his face in a crowd, she would have remembered it. That square jaw, slightly ruddy cheeks, with just a mist of five o’clock shadow, and those eyes—wow. Even wearing glasses, as he was now, she could still make out their stormy depths that sent a shiver straight down her backbone. Yes, I would definitely notice him in a crowd.
So much for the eighteen-year old she imagined getting reprimanded by Lynette. This was no kid standing in front of her. This solid mass of rugged hardness was all man. She could barely maintain a conversation when her breath seemed lost just by making contact with those stormy eyes.
“You may not have noticed me with the sign in front of my nose.” His smile revealed a full deck of pearly whites. “But you’re here now. So all’s well that ends well. Can I walk you back to the Roost?”
“Thanks, but no. I’m fine. I think I’ll pick up the pace again.” With his nearness making her jittery, she was eager to escape. “I told Ethel, she the owner of the Mariner’s Roost…” His grinned caused a flush of warmth over her cheeks. “But of course, you probably already know that.” She paused again to catch her suddenly missing breath. “I told her I would only be an hour and she’s holding dinner.”
As she turned to go, his hand touched her arm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Vivian.”
Vivian glanced from his face to his hand on her arm before returning to meet his eyes. His feathered touched caressed her skin. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” Quelling her melting insides at just beholding this handsome rouge of a man, she held her hand out in a departure shake. Was it her imagination or did he hold her hand a fraction too long?
“Firm grip.” Tuck smiled, letting go of her hand.
This man sure knows how to douse a good mood. “Tall with a firm grip. Don’t get many of us in these parts do you?” She raised a brow before turning away, placing the ear buds back in place.
“None, like you.” Marston, for whom she had forgotten was there, stepped forward to hold out his hand. “Marston Miles, nice to meet you.”
Vivian shook his hand, and then quickly waved at them both as she turned to leave. She wanted to look over her shoulder for one last glance at the handsome Tuck, but knew that would be too obvious.
****
Marston stood beside Tuck, watching Vivian run. “Hoo, ahh.” He showed Tuck a thumbs-up. “Just the sight of that curved and luscious roundness tips me into over-drive. What a piece!”
“Go home, you little punk.” Tuck shook his head, no remorse for the younger man. He despised Marston since he was a wee lad, climbing up the family tree to piss on a cat. To Tuck, Marston’s actions were worse than being sprayed by a skunk—for the cat and him too, since he had to wash the cat. “Ever try to bathe a cat?”
“Hey, when ya gonna get over that? I was a kid for Christ’s sake.”
Tuck didn’t bother responding. He turned on his heel and headed for his SUV, thinking of Vivian and wondering why she seemed to be stuck in his thoughts.
****
Vivian second guessed everything from coming here to what would have happened if she hadn’t came as she soaked in the claw-foot tub that evening in her, oh-so-beautiful room. Staring at the dormer window, now shuttered for the evening, her emotions were like a yo-yo since setting foot on the plane this morning. One moment as high as a kite, flying with happiness and freedom that she was doing something on her own—to plummeting back to Earth, convinced she was the biggest looser for having no one to share her life with.
She was accustom to small towns, living in rural farm country like she did, but she soon learned the definite difference between small town and rural. Her little cottage sat on a small parcel of land completely surrounded by homesteads, and people tended to keep their distance unless they knew you, and even then your space was your own. After only a few hours in this town, she could tell it was similar to what her authors wrote about—people wanting to know you and get to know you. They were bold and friendly, which made her shy and apprehensive to their forward ways, yet she hope she they wouldn’t make the wrong assumption. She didn’t want to give off the wrong impression. Anxiety swirled in Vivian’s stomach as she soaked in the tub.
Vivian wrapped a large, fluffy towel around her and pulled out her nightdress from the luggage bag. She then called Marcy to let her know she had arrived. “Well, take it for what it is,” Marcy said. “It’s all part of the adventure.”
“I suppose. Yeah, I guess, you’re right. Vivian knew she had to open up to the experience. While believing she should live the way others thought to be right, she lost herself in the process. Something as essential as to who she is—who she needs to be.
Marcy laughed. “Of course I’m right. I am a mom of two boys.”
She said goodbye to her friend before crawling between the Egyptian cotton sheets, so crisp and clean. Heavenly.
Chapter Five
The smell of bacon wafted under the closed door, announcing breakfast the next morning. Ethel greeted Vivian with a plate piled high with the fluffiest scrambled eggs she had ever laid eyes upon, or taste buds, with a side of homemade hash browns. Thick-cut toast in wedges diamonded the platter. The scent of Lilac mixed with the aroma of breakfast, lured Vivian’s eyes to a large bouquet of flowers. The beautiful native flowers were full of color and fragrance.
Vivian smiled at the lovely set table. “Oh, they’re beautiful.” With both hands hovering at the end of the bouquet, she thrust her face into the blooms to inhale their perfume.
“The MacLean’s sent them,” Ethel said, pausing to lift a hand to pat her perfect bun at the base junction of her neck and spine. “Apparently Lynette feels bad about the mix-up yesterday. Seems you and Tucker missed one another at the airport. Anyway, Billy brought them around this morning.”
Touched by the gesture, Vivian buri
ed her nose back in the flowers. “Tucker? Billy?”
Ethel’s hands returned to her side, brushing the flour from her skirt. “Tucker, he likes to be called Tuck, he’s Lynette’s son, and Billy, is one of Daniel’s boys, Randy’s brother.”
Vivian reluctantly left the bouquet to take a seat at the table, wondering if Ethel would join her or continue to hover.
“You know Lynette?” Ethel’s brow rose.
Vivian nodded as Ethel gave her the scoop on the MacLean’s. “Lynette is married to Randy MacLean. Tucker and Nathaniel are their boys. Tucker ran off to be some big shot, while Nathaniel stayed and married that pretty Emily from down the harbor. They have two kids now. Lynette quite likes being a grandmother.”
As Ethel paused in thought, though her face did not change expression and her eyes never wavered, Vivian scooped a heaping helping of eggs on her fork, and savored the flavor. Delicious.
“Maria and Matthew, those are the names of the kids. Almost escaped me for a moment or two. They’re named after Lynette’s folks. Daniel is Randy’s brother and he has four children, Billy being the youngest. All except Tucker, they all work one way or another in the family business, but now the big shot is back. Taken down a notch or two he is, if you ask me and rightly so. His folks have him working in the business, seems there’s always a spot for one more.”
Ethel wiped her hands on the dish cloth and then tossed it on the sink’s ledge. Vivian pulled a chair out for Ethel to begin her breakfast, but she wasn’t done her story.
“They say Tuck has some talent. He did make me some brochures and put the Inn on that spider’s web. You know that computer place.”
About to correct the older woman who seemed out of touch with the modern age, Vivian changed her mind. Trying to educate the matron on the World Wide Web would be a lost cause. Interested though she may be in the information she gleaned from Ethel, Vivian was eager to meet Lynette and didn’t want to be jaded in a first impression. Taking a different tact, she changed the subject. “Do you have any other guests staying with you?”