The One Real Thing (Hart's Boardwalk)

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The One Real Thing (Hart's Boardwalk) Page 6

by Samantha Young


  “As for my great-great-grandfather,” she continued, “he made a few bad investments and lost a lot of his wealth. People believed the Hartwells were being punished for what happened to Eliza.”

  “So you guys are big on fate here, huh?”

  “Fate. Magic.” She shrugged with a grin.

  “It sounds to me like a lot of drama. I’m not too big on drama.”

  “That probably means you need some in your life.” She winked at me playfully.

  I decided to explore the boardwalk after my interesting breakfast with Bailey.

  Despite the dark clouds above, the weather outside was mild with only a gentle breeze whispering up from the water. I strolled along the wooden planks. A mammoth sign above the porch door of the building next to the inn proclaimed in feminine script Hart’s Gift Shop.

  The gift shop was currently closed. I hoped it was on off-season hours and would be open sometime during my vacation. I wanted to buy something for Perry and there were beautiful dolls and jewelry in the windows.

  After the gift shop were a candy store and arcade, and from there the boards ran along the main thoroughfare. A large bandstand sat at the top of Main Street. The street was wide enough for cars to park in the middle of it, and along either side were commercial buildings. Trees lined the street, where restaurants, gift shops, clothes stores, fast-food joints, spas, coffeehouses, pubs, and markets were neighbors in a well-groomed tourist environment.

  I decided to explore Main Street later and kept heading along the boards. I passed a small ice cream shack, a surf shop, an Italian restaurant with a neon sign proclaiming Antonio’s, and then the largest building on the boardwalk—it seemed to rise up among all the others like a giant of contemporary architecture. Whitewashed walls and lots of glass. There was no gaudy neon sign for this building. Huge gold metal letters three stories up spelled out Paradise Sands Hotel and smaller gold letters subtitled underneath it, And Conference Center.

  I stared up at the mammoth place, wondering how it could contrast so sharply with everything else on the boardwalk and yet somehow add a quality to the place that I personally thought benefited it rather than detracted from it. I took a step back and turned toward the ocean. There were only a few people walking along the beach today because of the complete lack of sun. Even without the sun turning the sand what I assumed would be a spectacular gold, the beach was lovely. The sand was soft, rockless, and inviting. I couldn’t wait for some sunshine so I could lie on a lounge chair out there.

  But there was no sunshine and I could do with another coffee. On that thought, I continued my journey down the boardwalk, when the heavens suddenly opened.

  My eyes darted for the closest available shelter and I dashed toward it—a closed bar that had an awning. Soaked within seconds, blinded by rain, and irritated by the icky feeling of my clothes sticking to my skin, I wasn’t really paying much attention to anything else but getting to the awning. That was why I ran smack into a hard, masculine body.

  If the man’s arms hadn’t reached out to catch me I would have bounced right onto my ass.

  I pushed my soaked hair out of my eyes and looked up in apology at the person I had so rudely collided with.

  Warm blue eyes met mine. Blue, blue eyes. Like the Aegean Sea that surrounded Santorini. I’d vacationed there a few years back and the water there was the bluest I’d ever seen.

  Once I was able to drag my gaze from the startling color of those eyes, I took in the face they were set upon. Rugged, masculine.

  My eyes drifted over his broad shoulders and my head tipped back to take in his face because the guy was well over six feet tall. The hands that were still on my biceps, steadying me, were big, long fingered, and callused against my bare skin.

  Despite the cold, I felt my body flush with the heat of awareness and I stepped out of the stranger’s hold.

  “Sorry,” I said, slicking my wet hair back, grinning apologetically. “That rain came out of nowhere.”

  Cooper

  All Cooper could see at first were the stranger’s gorgeous eyes. Big. Brown—no. Hazel. They were brown with flecks of light green and yellow in them. Thick lashes framed them.

  Right now those gorgeous eyes held a mix of apology and amusement. The mascara streaks running down her cheeks didn’t detract from how pretty those eyes were.

  Warm eyes that moved from his face to travel over his body. His shirt was soaked through and clung to him, showing off the results of his early-morning workout and run along the beach. He gave a brief nod as he pushed his wet hair back from his forehead.

  The stranger’s eyes widened a little and Cooper didn’t miss the feminine appreciation in them.

  She wasn’t short, standing at about five seven, but he was tall so she was tilting her head back to look up at him. That was when he realized how close they were standing.

  Cooper felt what was almost like a warning tingle on the back of his neck. And it wasn’t the cold.

  He’d felt that tingle when he was walking home from school minutes before he got home to find out his dad had taken off. He’d felt the tingle the day his mom’s brother died, leaving the bar to her, only for his mom to turn around and give the bar straight to him. He’d felt the tingle the first day he stepped into the bar as the owner. He’d felt the tingle the day his mom died of cancer. And he’d felt that tingle driving to the bar one day. That tingle made him drive home to check on Dana. He had found her fucking his best friend.

  Standing in front of this bedraggled stranger with the prettiest goddamn eyes he’d ever seen, Cooper had to wonder whether the tingle was a good thing or a bad thing in this case.

  Good or bad, it was worth listening to, he thought as he opened the door to the bar. He’d only stepped out for a few minutes to drop off mail that should have been delivered to Emery’s next door. It was enough time to get soaked to the skin.

  The woman now stood with her back to him, staring out at the rain. Her shoulders were hunched a little as if trying to protect herself from the dampness of her wet clothes. Cooper’s eyes dragged down her body. She had a tiny back, narrow shoulders, and a narrow waist, but that waist swept out into a curvy ass Cooper appreciated greatly. Especially since that ass was attached to long, slim legs. She wore skinny jeans that showed off those fantastic legs of hers. The jeans were tucked into high-heeled boots.

  Casual but sexy, he thought. It worked. At least it did for him.

  He suddenly wasn’t so cold.

  And he was going to listen to that tingle. “You can wait out there if you want. Or not.”

  She swung around, staring at him with those big eyes. With her wet hair slicked back he got to see all of her.

  All of it was good.

  She wasn’t a striking beauty like his ex, but there was coldness to Dana’s beauty. There always had been. It used to intrigue him. Now he knew better.

  Other than the wet clothes on her body, there wasn’t a hint of coldness in this stranger.

  She did, however, look uncertain. She peered past him at the empty bar. “Are you sure it’s alright?”

  He nodded.

  The woman hesitated, obviously unsure about entering an empty bar with a strange man. She was definitely a tourist. And right now she looked like a teenager deciding whether or not to do the smart thing while oh so tempted by the stupid thing.

  Amusement filled him.

  As she nodded and strode past him, her perfume wafted over him. It was light, kind of flowery, nothing musky about it. She turned around, gazing at his bar in curiosity, and he took in the rest of her. Her black shirt clung to her, straining over full breasts. More than a handful. Fuck, but she had a body on her.

  Then Cooper noticed that body was shivering.

  Asshole. He needed to stop checking her out and get her warm.

  “Tea? Coffee? Hot cocoa?” he called out, heading to
ward the kitchen.

  “Hot cocoa,” she called back.

  He went to the linen closet in the hall first, where he kept dish towels and towels for the staff bathroom. He grabbed one and took it out to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, staring up at him, looking almost confused for some reason.

  He nodded and got back into the kitchen to make them a warm drink as fast as possible.

  When he returned to her with her mug of cocoa he noticed her hair was a little drier. There was a lot of it.

  The mascara smears around her eyes were gone, too.

  He glanced at the white towel he’d given her and grinned when he saw the black on it.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the mug of hot cocoa and whipped cream from him.

  She was soft-spoken and, for whatever reason, his lower belly reacted with a tugging sensation to the sound of her voice.

  Cooper took the seat across from her and sipped at his coffee, enjoying the chance to study her as she studied him. There was an air of easy confidence around her that he appreciated. That kind of confidence usually belonged to women who knew and liked themselves.

  “Do you work here?” she said after a few minutes of comfortable silence had passed between them.

  Cooper nodded.

  “You’re a bartender here?”

  “I own the place.”

  He watched her study his bar, and he had to wonder what she thought of it. She had little diamonds in her ears and was wearing a nice watch, plus those sexy boots weren’t cheap, as far as he could tell, and he’d lived with Dana long enough to know a designer purse when he saw it. If he’d had to guess, he would have thought the tourist a cocktails-at-a-trendy-bar kind of woman. But just as he’d caught her appreciation of his body earlier, he saw a different kind in her eyes as she looked around at his place.

  He felt a spike of pride. It used to be a dowdy little pub. Now it was a successful one. It was all him in that bar and it was nice that she liked what she saw.

  “Nice place,” she said, confirming her appreciation. “What’s the bar called?”

  “Cooper’s.”

  She narrowed her big eyes on him. “Are you Cooper?”

  “Are you a detective?” he teased.

  “A doctor, actually.”

  Well, he hadn’t been expecting that. “Smart lady.”

  “I’d hope so.” She grinned at him.

  Silence fell between them again and Cooper found that he liked that she could sit quietly with him without growing uncomfortable. He liked the quiet. He liked that she wasn’t rushing to fill it with meaningless chitchat like most people did.

  In the little time he’d spent with her he knew she was sexy, cute, smart, and nice to spend time with. All that meant Cooper wanted to know more. “You’re not from Hartwell.”

  “No, I’m not.” She sidestepped his unspoken question.

  Cooper almost laughed at her taciturnity. “What brings you to Hart’s Boardwalk, Doc?”

  “At the moment the rain brought me here,” she said. “I’m kind of glad it did.”

  Yeah, he was glad, too. He reached across the table, offering her his hand. “Cooper Lawson.”

  She smiled at him and took his hand, hers small and soft in his. “Jessica Huntington.”

  That tingle sprang to life down his neck again.

  He tensed, his eyes sharp on Jessica Huntington. “Nice to meet you, Doc.”

  “You, too. Thanks again for the cocoa.”

  “You’re welcome.” He sat back, watching her sip the drink he’d made for her. A bit of cream stuck to the top lip of her pretty mouth. He eyed it, trying not to think about how much he wanted to lick the cream off her. Forcing his eyes from her mouth to her eyes, he said, “What brings you to Hartwell?”

  “I’m on vacation.”

  “Why Hart’s?”

  “I didn’t want to stray too far from work. I work in Wilmington.”

  Wilmington. It wasn’t too far. A couple hours’ drive at most. “At one of the hospitals?”

  “No, actually; at a women’s prison.”

  Again, not what he expected. Being a doctor wasn’t exactly easy. Being a doctor in a prison was just adding challenge on top of challenge. Had to take a certain kind of person to want that kind of job. He just wasn’t sure what kind of person that made Jessica. “That’s different.”

  She gave a huff of laughter. “I suppose it is.”

  “So what makes someone want to work in a women’s prison?”

  “What makes someone want to own a bar?” the doc countered.

  It was his. It was his vision. His hard work. And the locals were his family. Not many people got to have a business they loved like he did. “This place is home.”

  The doc tilted her head to the side, a lively humor in her hazel eyes. “Well, I can’t say the same.”

  “So why a women’s prison?” he persisted. It had been a long time since he’d been this curious about someone.

  She considered his question for a moment and when she spoke her voice got even softer. “Even people who make mistakes need someone watching over them. When I became a doctor I took the Hippocratic oath. I said I would help people and do no harm. That means helping someone no matter who they are or what they’ve done. I take that oath seriously.”

  A flash of sadness, something deeply rooted . . . something personal . . . crossed her eyes and Cooper knew there was more to it than that. “There’s taking that oath seriously and then there’s working in a prison.”

  “I believe everyone deserves compassion,” she said. “When I got offered the job I was concerned that if I didn’t take it then some other doctor might take it out of necessity rather than interest. There’s no guarantee such a doctor would have the right bedside manner for these women. I took the job because I can guarantee they feel safe coming to me for treatment.”

  Cooper stilled at her words.

  Was she for real?

  He knew kindness existed. After his dad left, he’d grown up in a house full of it. But unfortunately, he’d also seen a lot of selfishness lately. A complete and total lack of compassion, too.

  There was something about that compassion on a woman like Jessica Huntington that more than intrigued him. She was tallying up a list of positives that were hard to ignore.

  “Is that a bartending trick?” she said suddenly, her cute little nose all wrinkled up in annoyance. “Getting people to talk to you?”

  Cooper grinned, liking the idea that the doc didn’t usually share so much. Maybe she was feeling it, too . . . some kind of connection between them. “I’m just easy to talk to.”

  Jessica grinned back and he felt that hard tug of attraction deep in his gut. “Maybe so.”

  The door opened and Cooper’s cook, Crosby, strolled in, distracting him from the ever-increasing tightness in his jeans.

  Crosby saw Jessica but didn’t acknowledge her. “Morning, boss.”

  “Morning,” Cooper said as his cook disappeared into the kitchen. Crosby wasn’t really the social type anymore. “My cook,” he explained when he saw Jess staring after his employee with curiosity in her big, gorgeous eyes.

  Those eyes swung back to his and she suddenly stood up. “Well, I better let you get on. Thanks again for the shelter and the hot drink.”

  He felt disappointment flood him and if it wasn’t for the fact that he had a bar to open in an hour he would have convinced the doc to stick around.

  “Do you know of any bookstores nearby?” she said as she grabbed up her purse.

  “Emery’s next door.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  He stood up, too. He needed to know he was going to see her again. “You staying at the Paradise?”

  She hesitated, as though she wasn’t sure she should tell him. Cooper didn’t like
that so much. When she finally answered, “Hart’s Inn,” he smiled. Not only because he liked that she’d chosen Bailey’s homey place over the luxury of Vaughn’s hotel, but because he liked that she’d told him where she was staying.

  Cooper hoped that meant she was single and looking to get to know him a bit better while she was visiting. “Nice choice. Bailey’s a good woman.”

  “Yes, I’m getting that,” Jess said and walked around the table to him to hold out her hand. “It was nice talking to you.”

  It was more than nice talking to her. His grip tightened on hers and he stepped in close, so she knew for sure he wanted to see her again. “You, too, Doc. You staying here long?”

  “A few weeks.”

  That was plenty of time. “Then I’ll be seeing you.”

  Her cheeks flushed a little and her eyes grew round with surprise at the obvious intention behind his words. She tugged on her hand, making him laugh.

  So damn cute.

  “I guess so,” she said in that soft way of hers.

  Cooper watched her leave, hoping that hint of vulnerability he saw behind her confidence didn’t mean he’d have to track her down to spend more time with her.

  He wanted her to come to him.

  He’d done a lot of chasing around, especially after Dana, and look where that had gotten him. Just as he’d been trying to tell Aydan in as diplomatic a way as possible, there hadn’t been anyone serious or special since Dana. The women he messed around with always came to him. Cooper liked it like that. He wasn’t putting himself out there, chasing another woman around, only to get burned.

  But as he stared at his now empty bar, he thought, Fuck, more than a little worried.

  He knew that if Jessica didn’t come to him he wasn’t going to be able to sit on it. The doc was someone worth getting to know. He felt it in that damn tingle.

 

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