Her heart gave an odd lurch at the prospect, though he gave her an abashed smile. “It seems odd to offer that—you’ve already been out there several times, but I thought…”
“Pinnacle House,” Caroline blurted out. “Perhaps—perhaps we could try the restaurant another time, if you’d like. I’d enjoy that,” she said hastily, her words sounding far too nervous to her own ears. “But if you have something simple at the inn, I’d love to see it again, and to watch the sun set on a lovely night like this.”
He started the car, and she could tell she’d made the right choice. A curious contentment unfurled in her, and she had to resist the urge to reach over and touch Simon’s arm, his leg. “I don’t want to put you out, of course, if you hadn’t expected…”
“No, the Inn…” he broke off, chuckling. “That’ll be fine. My grandparents left a few hours ago, and I’ve had a chance to straighten up a bit in the wake of Mr. Swain’s visit.”
“He seemed so nice.” Caroline smiled. “Do you think it’s possible for Pinnacle House to be approved?”
“Honestly—I don’t know.” Simon shook his head with a sigh. “Belle and Bobo were so excited, though. It seems like I should be able to figure something out for them to have guests out there again, even while I’m gone.”
The tiniest thread of dismay slipped through Caroline at his words, but she refused to honor it. Of course Simon would be leaving again at some point. He went on junkets every few years, Cindy had said. He’d recently returned from one, and there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t go again…in a few years.
And what did it matter anyway, to her? It wasn’t as if she was staying here any longer than she needed. Edeena would be getting married, her family needed her back home, and…
“We’ll take my speedboat out to the island. The ferries are done running for the day,” Simon said beside her, and all thoughts of her own responsibilities fled away. They chatted easily for the next several minutes as the sun sank ever lower in the sky. By the time they reached the marina, it was nearly setting.
Simon’s boat was of the same quality as his vehicle—not flashy, exactly, but very nice and in superb condition. “This is beautiful,” Caroline said, knowing she sounded more surprised than she should.
He laughed as if reading her thoughts. “I don’t care that much about material things, but when it comes to vehicles and boats—any sort of gear that has to work when I need it to, the way I need it to—I don’t mess around. I’ve traveled too much and been stranded too often by equipment that breaks down. There’s nothing worse than something that knocks you off course like that.”
She nodded, considering his sensible, yet oddly deflating, words. This was a man who would never be knocked off course, she thought. Not for long.
They quickly untied the boat and he helped her into a life jacket, though he left his tucked by his chair. Then he moved the boat into the open water, and her heart once again lightened.
“The sun is setting,” she said, feeling the wind lift her hair as they picked up speed.
Simon didn’t bother keeping the grin from his face as Caroline laughed beside him, her gaze darting first to the horizon, then to the darkening waters, then to the steadily approaching Pearl Island. She clutched the side of the boat, no longer sitting, but fairly bouncing on her feet. The trip to Pearl Island only took a few minutes, as always, and she was out of her life jacket before they’d reached the dock.
“From now on, I’m going to insist on speed boat transportation,” she said, a sudden blush flaring as it had in the car when she’d said they could try his favorite restaurant on another evening. Both slips indicated her willingness to see him beyond this night, and Simon’s mood had been buoyed more than he would have expected by the news.
Now he reached for her hand and helped her out of the boat. “It’s definitely faster than the ferry.”
“Faster and far more fun. And you remain in complete control.” She smiled at him almost mischievously. “I can see why you prefer it.”
They walked hand in hand up the long main street, the shops now closed down for the evening except Hilda’s. A few of the locals waved to them as they strolled, and Simon experienced a twinge of rueful awareness at their bright-eyed gazes and knowing smiles. Were they paying more attention because of the state historic preservation office visit? Had his grandparents warned them of their intentions?
He frowned, suddenly bemused. He’d need to make sure the other residents were aware, if Belle hadn’t already done so. Then again, they’d been part of the day’s show. Chances were good they understood what was going on. Three more waves and a grin later from potters, painters and a man who was so disheveled, he had to be a writer, and Simon concluded that they approved.
They reached the lane to the house faster than he expected, but as Caroline made to turn he tugged her forward. “Let’s go this way—a little longer, but takes us along the beach.”
“Oh!” her eyes widened, and she squeezed his hand. She made him feel like a hero for the most minor of things, he realized suddenly. He got the feeling she had that effect on a lot of people.
There was no denying her delight as they reached the trailhead to the beach however, the small parking lot at the end of the road deserted.
“I had no idea this was here.” She pulled her hand away and trotted down the path, which was covered with a thin, woven matting to keep the dune grass at bay and the sand in place. The path led to a small bridge that allowed passage through the higher dunes without disturbing their naturally shifting profiles, and Caroline exclaimed with delight as the pathway opened out to the beach. She kicked off her sandals and picked them up, then strode out onto the sand.
“Who maintains this?” she asked. Her hair in its long ponytail fluttered in the breeze, and she looked absolutely perfect, laughing in the last rays of the setting sun.
“We do—Pinnacle House,” he said. “Though the beach is open to the public, it’s technically part of our land. We made the agreement a long time ago to maintain the strip of beach here. The public beach doesn’t get a lot of traffic, and we’re here, so it made the most sense. I spend some time each year researching erosion-reduction techniques, dune conservation, learning the latest methods to ensure we keep it lasting, and so far we’ve been lucky with storms avoiding us.”
“Lucky indeed,” Caroline said, so quietly he almost didn’t catch the words. He moved alongside her, their hands once more naturally finding each other’s as they walked down to the shoreline. Terns and a few gulls scattered in their wake, only to come back again to the water and sand, searching for their own dinners. The breeze swirled around them, an eddying ripple not strong enough to carry the sand but simply to whisk the insects away. Caroline sighed beside him, stopping to stare out to the far horizon. “It’s perfect,” she murmured.
“It is now, yes.” Simon smiled as she turned startled eyes to him, then he leaned down to touch his lips to hers.
Beneath him, Caroline stood absolutely motionless for one heartbeat, then two, then her sigh deepened. He cupped her face with his hands and she lifted her arms, her own hands clasping around his neck. Their bodies swayed together, the chatter of birds and the spill of water blending together beneath the pounding of Simon’s own heart. He wasn’t very good at love, he wasn’t good at connection. He wasn’t good at people, he heard his mind insisting over and over again in a low murmur.
But he wanted to be good at this.
He pulled Caroline more tightly to him, and she complied easily, a soft moan escaping her lips as he drew his hand down her back to rest on her waist. She arched away from him, and her gaze met his, a soft, wondering smile wreathing her face.
“Did you order up this sunset from the same catalog you get your shirts and beach supplies?” she asked.
He grinned down at her, absurdly happy simply to be in the moment with her—here, on this beach, as if they’d already walked it hundreds of times before. “Do you approve?”
/> She looked over, remaining in the circle of his arms, to watch as the sun sank a little more deeply on the far horizon. It lit the clouds in plumes of red, orange and pink, and it truly was glorious. He’d long since given up trying to decide which of the sunsets was the prettiest on Pearl Island—each of them was distinct, some brilliant, some muddied, some soft, some all-but hidden.
But tonight’s sunset was one he would not soon forget.
“I think it’s about the most perfect sunset I’ve ever seen,” Caroline said. She moved away and he let her go, instantly gratified when her hand slipped once more into his.
They walked the rest of the way up the beach without speaking, though the air seemed almost crowded between them with the force of his emotions. Caroline appeared comfortable with the silence, and for that he was grateful. He’d worried all afternoon about what would happen if she opted to come to Pearl Island this evening…and then he’d worried about what it meant if she didn’t. But now that she was here, it seemed as if it was the most obvious choice for her to make, as if she couldn’t have chosen anything else.
Even when she lifted her head and saw Pinnacle House cresting over the distant dunes, her frown of confusion seemed exactly as if he’d planned it—or at least, as he’d hoped it would be.
“Are there lights on in the tower room?” She glanced at him in surprise, her brow furrowing as he nodded. “Did you leave them on all day?”
“They’re on a timer,” he said.
“To warn off ships in the night?” Her smile was teasing, but she couldn’t really know how close she was to the truth…how close and yet not quite right.
“I prefer to think of it as a light to guide travelers home,” he said, surprising himself with how rough his voice sounded.
Beside him, Caroline drew in a sharp breath, and when he looked at her, there was something new in her eyes, an expression that sent a wash of warm, welcome heat flooding through him. Not the sizzle of desire, though that was certainly there. But this was different, he thought. This was…almost strange.
“Why Dr. Blake, I believe that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard anyone say,” Caroline said, emulating his southern drawl. “And if you tell me you’re about to feed me, too, you might just win my heart.”
He laughed, feeling lighter than he had any reason to. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter Eighteen
Caroline could have been walking on clouds, as easily as she and Simon glided up the beach walk to Pinnacle House. By now the sun had set in earnest, and the only lights visible from the house were those shining down from the observation tower. This close, she realized the lights weren’t coming from within the room, but from large light fixtures positioned under the eaves.
And she hadn’t been joking in what she’d said to Simon on the beach. His romanticism had startled her. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but now she realized that he seemed to become a different person out at Pinnacle House, the reticence and prickliness she’d witnessed in the lecture hall and in his voice when he spoke to his colleagues on the phone falling away with the light breeze.
As they approached the house, motion sensor lamps switched on. She and Simon mounted the stairs to the back deck, and Simon fished a set of keys out of his pocket, then let them into the kitchen. With a quick glance, Caroline took in the sparkling room.
“I was only kidding about food,” she said quickly. “I’d hate to see you clutter these pristine counters.”
He studied her, his brows lifting. “You’re not hungry?”
Truth was, she was starving. She hadn’t been able to eat, what with her unnatural jitters about her date, and her stomach chose that moment to growl.
Simon chuckled, opening the fridge. “I’ll assume that means you’ll be interested in at least a summer dinner of salads and cheese.”
“Oh.” Caroline’s eyes widened as he removed a large platter from the oversized unit, wrapped over with plastic. “Can I get anything?”
“Sweet tea all right?” At her nod, he smiled. “Pitcher’s right in there. I thought we’d eat upstairs, if that works for you.”
“Up…” she frowned. “In the observation room?”
His smile was almost boyish. “It’s my favorite place in the house, I believe I mentioned. Give me five minutes or so to make sure it’s habitable, then come up behind me.”
He carried the enormous platter out of the kitchen, and Caroline fetched the tea pitcher, plus two tumblers from one of the cabinets. It took her longer to find a tray that wasn’t too big or unwieldy, but she finally did. By the time she’d crossed the circular grand foyer and climbed the stairs to the second floor, however, Simon had already lowered the stairs to the hidden cubby above. He emerged as she approached, and took the pitcher and glasses from her.
“I was worried about carrying those up,” Caroline admitted. The light was strange in the room at the top of the pull-down stairs, but Simon’s body nearly blocked it.
“Years of practice,” he grinned. “Come on up behind me.”
She waited until he cleared the stairs, then stepped quickly up after him. As she poked her head into observation room, however, she stopped—and gasped.
Dozens of tiny tea light candles were set up throughout the space—in glasses, on platters, singly and in small groups, on every available ledge and shelf, transforming the circular room into a sparkling, flickering wonderland. In the center of the room the couches and chairs had been moved away to make room for a small table, covered with a linen tablecloth and flanked by two chairs.
On the center of the table sat a squat vase filled with short-stemmed roses, their plates of cool sandwiches and cheeses and fruits set to either side. Simon stood behind the table, the pitcher in his hand, but he wasn’t pouring out tea. He was watching her.
“Oh—Simon,” Caroline breathed, somehow managing to climb the final steps and emerge fully into the room. “It’s beautiful. But—how—?”
“I knew I at least had a shot that you’d be willing to come here tonight, and I thought if you were, well—I could surprise you. And if you didn’t, it wouldn’t take me long to set everything to rights.” He shrugged. “It’s not like Belle and Bobo come up here anymore, and the housekeepers only poke their heads in once a month. I wouldn’t have been caught out.”
He finished pouring the tea and set the pitcher to the side, pulling out a chair. “Your dinner, ma’am?” he drawled.
Mutely, Caroline took her seat, then accepted the linen napkin he handed her. Simon settled in opposite her, and for the next few minutes the only thing she could focus on was the food—which was surprisingly delicious, everything tasting sharper, sweeter, or spicier by turns. Even the sweet tea had a pungent tang she wasn’t expecting, and she savored it as if she’d never had tea before.
“You like?” Simon was watching her so closely, she suddenly knew he’d made most of this meal himself—the salad, the tea. He could have told her he’d grown the grapes and pineapple in the middle of the forest and she probably would have believed him.
“Very much,” she said, and the moment between them seemed to hold its breath, encouraging her to regard him steadily over her glass. “How long have you been taking your meals in the observation tower, Dr. Blake? I’m surprised there’s not rumors in the village about you keeping someone locked up here in the attic.”
He grinned, playing along. “There were rumors, once. But we burned down the villager’s house, and that proved the end to that.”
“And rightly so,” Caroline nodded. She opened her mouth to speak again, but to her surprise, Simon kept talking, his gaze having drifted to the windows again. Many of the candles were already starting to gutter, throwing the exterior landscape into sharper relief, illuminated by the bright white lights.
“My parents began bringing me to Pinnacle House to spend the summers when I was—perhaps four years old? Four or five. They’d stay for a week, then leave me with Belle and Bobo.”
&nb
sp; “Leave you!” Caroline exclaimed. She hadn’t realized he’d been so young. “As a five year old?”
“As you can imagine, I didn’t appreciate that decision, especially not that first year,” he said ruefully. “But my parents were both academics, and much enamored of trips around the world on their studies. Both of them highly respected in their fields, needing to keep up with the endless round of publications.”
“I can’t imagine a child was a very useful tagalong for that kind of travel,” Caroline said neutrally, but she felt hollow inside as she spoke, imagining him as a lonely little boy.
“Exactly. Which makes perfect sense now, but then…not so much.” He chuckled, rolling his tea glass in his large hand. “My grandparents tried everything to make things better for me—days at the beach, trips into town, every manner of activity they could think of. But it was on the fourth or fifth day that I came out of my bedroom…only to find this hidden stairway dangling down, my grandfather disappearing up it. I stood rooted to the spot for a full minute, I think, then clambered up after him, amazed at the ‘secret room.’ There were no guests at the hotel that day—the room isn’t open to the public, never has been—and it was piled high with linens, extra dishes, cushions that needed repairing—all manner of stuff. It was like a pirate’s treasure to me, and Belle and Bobo were so happy that I’d found something to make me smile, they gave me full dominion over it. From that day on, this became my bedroom, playroom, and hideout. That much hasn’t changed.”
A note of bittersweet nostalgia had crept into his voice, and Caroline didn’t know what to say at first. “I can see you, up here, as a pirate king, surveying your domain,” she finally managed, as lightly as possible. “Plotting dastardly excursions on the high seas.”
Charmed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 6 Page 16