by Candace Colt
“Really? That’s interesting.”
“Don’t laugh,” he said.
“Why would I?” Her expression registered genuine surprise.
“My words. Come out w—rong. Mostly around beau—tiful women. Like you.” Beau exhaled a long breath.
Abby’s cherry-red face told him he’d done an awkward job of telling her the truth. No doubt all the coffee he was chugging meant he’d be awake all night, but it didn’t matter.
“That was a sweet compliment. But there are a lot of prettier women in town. Kristy and Luna, and my cousin, for example. Do you stutter when you talk to them?”
“They are like fam—ily. So, no.”
“Interesting.” Abby’s emerald green eyes sparkled as she tapped her fingers on her kissable pink mouth. “Let’s get back to the cat.”
Relief flowed over him. She was moving on to something else.
“A lot of people, including my cousin Theo talk to them.” She leaned forward. “And you, too?”
“Far back as I c—an re—member.” Animals never poked fun at him.
“Does Scarlett answer?” Abby asked.
He rolled his earlobe between his fingers. “She does.”
“I think my cousin neglected to tell me this, too.” Abby’s voice quaked a bit. “What have you two talked about?”
Besides the fact that Abby was available? Or how Abby had intently watched him climb the ladder? And the cat’s nudges to make his move before Abby left town?
Revealing their private cat-to-man discussion by throwing Scarlett under the bus was not a smart idea.
“Not much. Just small talk.”
Chapter Seven
Why couldn’t Abby be an ordinary reg and exist in blissful ignorance like the casual tourists who visited Cat’s Paw Cove? How simple her life would be if she had no idea what really went on in town.
But hell, no. Abby had to be a reg in the magical Blessing family. She didn’t have a dime’s worth of magical abilities unless screwing up electricity counted.
Of all ironies, the hunky guy sitting across the table eating bundt cake, who’d said she was beautiful, had just admitted he’d talked to Scarlett.
Her first opinion of Beau Grayson had been all wrong. Abby realized now that he was very nice. Why had he brought her the cake? Had he felt bad about how he’d come across yesterday?
The fact that he stumbled with his words didn’t bother her at all. His ability to converse with Scarlett was more unsettling. Abby had to guard her words.
“I should go,” Beau said.
She didn’t press him to stay longer. “Thank you again. Next one’s on me.” Abby caught herself. Next one? As in, another time with him? Not altogether a bad idea.
“Thank you for un—derstanding.” Beau started out the kitchen door, then turned.
Was he about to ask her on a date? She hadn’t brought any dressy clothes with her. He seemed to be an informal kind of guy, so she could wear jeans. How soon could she get a hair appointment? Would they ride in his electrician’s truck?
“My glove?” he asked.
“Oh. Yes. I forgot. It’s by the cash register.” The idea of a date with Beau flew with the wind. Dang. Abby should have known better than to let her mind run headlong like a rabbit.
While she walked behind him down the stairs, she checked him out again. Quite impressive.
“Did you see t—hat?” Beau asked. “The st—airway lights dimmed.”
“Uh. No.”
Why had she said that? Though entranced by his backside, yes, she most certainly had seen the lights dim. She hadn’t uttered the word, so it hadn’t been her curse acting up again.
She slapped her chest at the twinge in her—oh God—heart. Was her curse going to the next level? All she did was admire a good-looking man. She didn’t even think the word.
“I should ch—eck this,” he said. “I have some t—ime tomorrow.”
Hadn’t she seen another electrical company’s truck in town? Maybe they had an ugly electrician who could take over the job. That would fix two problems—dim lighting and this scary new attraction to Beau.
And like she didn’t know what had caused the lights to flicker, Abby nonchalantly walked to the cash register. She reached for the glove where she’d put it for safekeeping. Strange. It wasn’t there.
She bent over and rummaged through a stack of gift bags and on the bottom shelf, where Scarlett had slept on it earlier. “I know it was right here when I called you. This is so weird. Where could it be?”
No sign of it on the counters or on the shelves behind her. Had she taken it upstairs? No. She distinctly remembered leaving it by the register.
“Don’t worry a—bout it. Ten to—morrow?” Beau asked.
“By then, I’ll find it. I apologize,” Abby said.
A tiny, suggestive smile crossed Beau’s lips as he waved good-bye.
After grabbing a burger and hand-battered onion rings at Purry’s on Whisker’s Road, Beau was still keyed up. He left his truck in the diner parking lot, put on his denim jacket, and headed toward Boardwalk Park. It was after six, and most stores were closed, but there was still plenty going on.
Cat’s Paw Cove was safe even after dark. As he walked through Wilshire Park, the LED light strings draped in the tree branches cast a warm glow on the faces of couples, some with small children, who walked arm-in-arm along the sidewalk. Many of the folks he recognized from doing work for them. The town was a textbook place to raise a family, but at the same time, for Beau, it was tough always being the odd man out.
He’d tried the dating scene, but women didn’t have the patience for a guy like him. Abby Blessing had been a real surprise. Although he’d felt like a jerk when ‘beautiful’ had slipped out, it was the truth.
At the boardwalk, the stiff February breeze coming off the Atlantic Ocean knifed a chill through him. He pulled up his jacket collar and leaned against the rail. As often as he could, he came down to the Guinevere docked in the harbor. Restored, the old ship was now a museum and a popular tourist attraction.
For Beau, the night was the best time to view the boat. He loved how the floodlights shined at intervals on it and how the shadows played off the hull giving it a ghost-like presence.
That had been one of his ideas when he’d sub-contracted with the restoration company. Wiring an old vessel that had sunk in a storm over four hundred years ago had been the biggest challenge Beau had ever faced. At first, he’d installed regular indoor lighting. After consulting with Colin Wilshire, who’d been a passenger on the Guinevere when it had sunk in 1645, Beau had redesigned the interior lighting to give the option of making it flicker like candles.
The overall effect inside and out had exceeded everyone’s expectations. One of the great things about Cat’s Paw Cove was that no matter what, Beau could always find an expert in town with the first-hand experience of this, or any other time.
While working on the project, Colin had often talked to Beau about how life had been for him in 17th century England. Would Beau have been afforded a craftsman’s privilege of owning a company in the 1600s? More likely, with his speaking difficulties, Beau would have been a lower-class journeyman his entire life.
The Guinevere job, and the compliments that came as a result, had boosted his morale at a time he’d almost decided to sell the business. If he could just find a way to turn those compliments into more work.
Despite everything, Beau enjoyed life. Sure, he’d prefer to share it with someone, but if romance wasn’t in the cards, so be it. His circle of friends, human and feline, was great. Any time he felt sorry for himself, he’d come to the harbor and see the end result of his creative skills.
The Magic Potter’s wiring had him baffled. The fuses were fine. He’d repaired the lead-in wire from the street. What the heck else was going on? He hoped the flaky lighting on the stairway would be an easy fix. The building’s old wiring was way past its life expectancy, but a complete rewire could cost Theo and Etha
n a pretty penny.
It might be a simple answer. For some unknown reason, varmints loved chewing wire, and it ordinarily didn’t end well for them. He’d found plenty of barbecued rats and squirrels in attics and crawl spaces.
He glanced again at the Guinevere. If he could bring electricity to that old ship, surely, he could figure out what was going on at the pottery shop.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he checked the caller ID: The Magic Potter.
“Speak of the devil, and he doth appear,” Beau mumbled.
Chapter Eight
“You won’t believe this.” Abby’s voice warbled through the phone. “I found your glove.”
Beau took a deep breath. Center. Relax. Don’t overthink this and start stammering. Breathing helped calm his heartbeat, but not his thoughts.
“Wait till I tell you where,” she continued. “After that cake, I had quite a sugar buzz. I’m not complaining at all, mind you. But I was wired, so I decided to vacuum the living room. I moved the sofa to do a thorough job. Theo’s the artsy-fartsy magical one in the family but neat and tidy isn’t her strong suit. Some of the clutter was getting to me. So….”
Beau was grateful Abby had a pleasant voice. Otherwise, the endless recounting of the state of affairs in Theo’s apartment was a lot like scraping his teeth on a wooden Popsicle stick.
“You won’t believe what else I found,” Abby continued. “I took a picture. Want me to send it?”
“Not nec—cessary.” His stammer was starting up again. Damn.
“One flip-flop. A giant scallop shell. Refrigerator magnets from every business—even yours—in town. A golf ball. A pearl necklace. A magazine. A drink menu from The Galley.” Abby clicked down the list.
“A Lancaster High School baseball jersey.” She took a second to catch her breath. “And that’s just for starters.”
Baseball jersey? The aftermath of a long day and a big meal were beginning to hit. He was bushed. Abby needed to speed this up.
“And?” he asked again.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“Tell me…?”
“Right on top? Your glove,” she said.
Beau stifled a yawn.
“But that’s not why I’m calling,” she added.
Was this for real? “Then, why?”
“Scarlett.”
“And?” Beau repeated.
“After I discovered the stash, I heard the pet door and a clanking noise in the kitchen. I hid in the hallway and caught Scarlett in the act of dragging in her latest prize. She was about to add it to her collection when I confronted her. You know what it was? An expensive pair of hair dresser’s scissors!”
“You sure they aren’t Theo’s?”
“I just told you; Scarlett dragged them through the pet door,” Abby said in an ‘aren’t you listening’ tone.
In light of the world’s calamities, the discovery that Scarlett was a klepto-kitty struck Beau as hilarious. But Abby meant every word. He held the phone to his butt, so she wouldn’t hear him laugh.
“Beau?” Her voice was muffled through his jeans. “Are you still there?”
Thank goodness the call wasn’t on video chat. He brought the phone up to his ear again. “Yeah.”
“What should I do?” Abby sounded frantic.
“I’ll talk to Scar—lett.” Crap. All his thinking about Abby had started him stammering again. He’d been doing so well.
“Oh, thank goodness.”
After ending the call, Beau wondered how the heck he’d pull off his heart-to-heart with the feline. He sincerely doubted he would find any advice online. What would he search for?
‘How to talk to a kitten?’ ‘How to hold an intervention with a kitty burglar?’ ‘Five ways to teach a baby cat right from wrong?’
He checked the calendar. Thank God no full moon for two more weeks. And Mercury wasn’t in full retrograde. More in his favor.
He and Scarlett were off the hook for the night, although that cat was likely guilty as heck. Beau doubted Abby would call 9-1-1, but the hilarious image of a paw-cuffed cat carted off in the back of the Sheriff’s squad car would make quite an internet meme.
Beau needed to go home, chill, and watch an Avengers movie on demand. He could sure use a tutorial on super-human skills to survive tomorrow.
Abby sat in the recliner and turned Beau’s work glove over in her hand. Scarlett’s pile in the middle of the room was a sight. Too bad she hadn’t stolen a storage bin. Maybe she’d tried and hadn’t been able to pull it through the pet door.
Each item had some piece or part that Scarlett’s tiny teeth could latch onto and drag from who knew where. Whoever owned the scissors had tied a ribbon to the handle, unknowingly creating a handy chomping aid.
How many weeks had it taken to accumulate this stuff? Scarlett was only sixteen weeks old, but she had been one busy feline. How had Theo and Ethan missed this? They must have been distracted by their wedding plans.
What was Abby supposed to do with the stolen belongings? Throw them all out? Have a garage sale? Take out a lost and found ad in the Cat’s Paw Cove Courier? By now, the owners of the items had no doubt moved on with their lives.
Abby closed the blinds and flipped on the lights. After sidestepping the heap, she went to the kitchen to fix a sandwich. As soon as the refrigerator door opened, Scarlett bounded into the room and, sliding to a halt, bumped into Abby’s ankle.
Abby wagged her finger. “So, young lady. You have some mighty big explaining to do when Beau gets here tomorrow. I have a mind to text Theo.”
Scarlett stood on her back legs and waved her front paws wildly. “Merowwowww. Eeorowowow.” The young thing’s very grown-up howl echoed off the walls.
“I’ll take that as, please don’t.” Abby took her sandwich to the table.
Scarlett jumped up and rubbed her nose on Abby’s hand. Abby tore off a small piece of ham and offered it to the kitten.
“I guess I know what you’re up to all day.”
Abby scratched under Scarlett’s chin, activating the cat’s purr button. “You win, Miss Tortitude. I won’t tell Theo just yet. Not until I see how it goes with Beau.”
Scarlett’s motor shut off. Her eyes popped open, as big and round as bottle caps.
“Umm. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d say you were hiding more than trinkets.”
Chapter Nine
“How’s Mr. Sparky today?” Kristy Wilshire asked as she sat across from Beau at the Boardwalk Café.
“Top of the morning to you, too,” Beau said through tightly drawn lips.
They went back a long way together in Cat’s Paw Cove, and she was the only person on earth that he’d tolerate calling him Mr. Sparky.
“May I join you?” Kristy asked.
Beau gave her a warm smile. “Since you already have, would it matter if I said no?” Like he could stop her.
Kristy winked at him as the server came by with coffee and then took her order.
Beau couldn’t remember a time when Kristy hadn’t been in his life. She and Beau’s older sister had been best friends all through school. And as nice looking as Kristy was, she’d never caused Beau to stammer.
“What’s up for you today?” Kristy asked.
Some jobs had canceled when he’d got behind, and he feared they’d hired that new company. “Just The Magic Potter.”
“Did you meet Theo’s cousin Abby yet?”
He rolled his eyes as he lifted his cup. “Yes.”
“Did you notice anything about her?”
His hand holding the cup stalled midway to his mouth. “Like what?” He set it his untouched coffee back down.
“Men.” Kristy huffed and pointed in an air-circle around her face.
Beau thought a moment and reared his head back.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” he said under his breath.
“Weird, right? Even down to the freckles.”
The women could be body doubles.
/> “She came to the pub, and we talked a while. She’s nice. Pretty, too.” Kristy narrowed her gaze. “You did see that, right?”
Damn right, he had. “I guess.”
“Beau Grayson,” Kristy said in a voice a bit too loud. “You’re blushing.”
Beau tucked his chin and shoveled a forkful of home fries into his mouth.
“I have an idea,” Kristy said.
Beau waved a slice of crisp bacon at her. “Oh no, you don’t.”
Kristy’s ideas had always involved setting him up with available women. And had always resulted in epic fails.
“The Valentine’s Day Ball is coming up. According to a good local authority, Abby’s unattached.” Kristy’s eyes were full of too much delight. “Why not ask her to go with you?” Beau’s gut clenched. He waved off the server’s offer for a coffee refill and shoved his empty plate to the side. The whole set-up had Scarlett’s paw prints all over it.
“Not interested,” he said. “Besides, I’d just make a fool of myself and embarrass both of us with my stammering again.”
“Again? Ah-ha! You have spent time with her.” Kristy’s order arrived. “Pass the hot sauce, please. And you agree she’s attractive, don’t you?”
Beau handed her the bottle and checked the time. “Gotta go. Let’s just say you could be twins.” He chuckled. “Scary thought that there are two of you in this world.”
“Flattery gets you nowhere, buddy,” she chided. “You could do worse than a red-head, though we can be somewhat fiery at times.”
Beau’s smile cut ear to ear. “No. Really?”
“I wish you’d think about asking her. You deserve to be with a great lady.”
“Ah. Don’t start that again.”
“And don’t you start your BS again. I’ve said all along, you’ve got to stop lugging that stupid idea that you aren’t worthy of a woman’s love. If you want to go through the next thirty years of your life living like a hermit, so be it. But you’re missing out on a lot and denying a good woman out of the opportunity to be with you.”