by Drea Stein
“With what, Chef Sexy?” Caitlyn scoffed. “Happen to know he’s working tonight, so you’re free until he’s done and he sneaks into bed with you.”
“He doesn’t sneak,” Darby said.
Caitlyn laughed. “Well now I know he does. Anyway, Joan from The Garden Cottage swears he saw him scurry out of your house the other morning, doing the walk of shame.”
“Joan wouldn’t know what the walk of shame was,” Darby said, trying to retain some last vestige of dignity.
Caitlyn shook her head and looked over at Darby. “You would be surprised at what our parents’ generation knows. Joan definitely said ‘walk of shame’.”
Darby groaned. “Do you think she texted my mom?”
Caitlyn shrugged. “I don’t know, but aren’t your parents going to be home soon? You’ve been a busy little bee and you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”
Darby leaned back against the cool glass of the window and rubbed her hands over her face. “I know, I know. Soon there will be no hiding the truth.”
Caitlyn snorted. “If you think you’re hiding the truth, you’re sorely mistaken. The whole town is on to you.”
Darby looked at Caitlyn in horror. “What do you mean? Who’s been talking? I’ve kept everything about the name change a secret. Sure, the paint and the tables are there, but no one but you and Sean are supposed to know the whole thing.”
Caitlyn shrugged. “No one cares, mind you, since we all know it means you’ll be baking us cookies on a regular basis. Besides, I think everyone is waiting to enjoy your dad’s reaction. I mean, come on, he’s going to blow when he sees what you’ve done to the place.” Caitlyn gave a little laugh as if she were imagining the scene.
Darby slumped further against the glass. “Do you think Quent Tate knows? He’s been sniffing around but I haven’t told him a thing. I could see him telling my dad. It would be just like him.”
Caitlyn shrugged. “I don’t know. But in any case, they’ll be home in a few days and I bet everything will go over better if you have a nice solid business plan to show them. Let’s go work on it; it will be fun.”
Darby straightened herself up. “You know, when I decided to do this, it was so I would never have to look at boring documents again.”
Caitlyn slung her arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Au contraire my good friend, that’s where you’re wrong. Numbers never lie; so let’s go see if we can make your dreams of becoming the cookie queen of New England a reality.”
Chapter 33
Darby was locking the door of The Dory, and took a moment just to sag against the doorframe. It had been quite a day.
“Well, lassie, looks like you’ve been quite the busy little beaver.” The sound of Quentin Tate’s voice had her back up before his greeting was finished. This was the last thing she needed.
“Quent, always a pleasure to see you,” she said, lying through her teeth. All she could think about was getting home and the pleasant thought that Sean might be waiting for her.
“Oh, are you sure about that?” Quent grinned, a smiled that stopped at his lips. His eyes remained hard and curious. She saw that he was trying to peek around her, trying to get a glimpse of what she was doing.
“It’s just a paint job, Quentin, surely you can’t object to that.”
She put the key in her pocket and started to walk down the street. It will be a pleasant evening, she thought, one of those glorious wonderful nights that August kicked out at you as the summer wound itself down.
“Well, I don’t know. Your Da and I have already agreed on a price. I wouldn’t want you to think that any of your improvements will have me rethinking my offer.”
Darby shrugged, trying not to let Quentin get to her. He would smell any weakness a mile away.
“Well, I guess that’s between you and my dad, right? I just thought the place needed some new paint.”
Quentin let out a sound like a muffled snort. “And you painted the front too. Don’t think you can try and get someone in to bid against me. It’s a fair offer I’ve given your Da.”
“The Dory still belongs to the Reese family,” Darby said, hurrying her pace. She could almost see her front gate. Suddenly she found herself spun around and facing the bald, hulking form of Quentin.
“Don’t think you’ll pull any of your fancy lawyer tricks on me. I know there’s no other buyer interested in the deli, so don’t think your little redecorating scheme will get me to change the asking price.”
Darby almost let herself smile. She had rattled Quentin, which gave her no small pleasure. But even better, he was on the wrong track. He thought she was making the improvements to get another offer, not because of her own plan.
“Like I said, you can discuss it with my dad when he gets back. He’s approved all of the changes I’ve made.”
Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure about that? You know one call to him and I’d bet he’d be real interested in what’s going on. You may have everyone else snowed, but I know you’re up to something.”
They were at her gate. Her hand a little unsteady, Darby opened it and then turned and faced Quentin.
“Like I said, The Dory still belongs to the Reese family. I wouldn’t go counting your chickens before they hatch.”
Quentin just looked at her, but she decided that she’d said enough. Quickly, she walked up the pathway to her door.
Chapter 34
“I let myself in,” Sean’s voice called out, and Darby stopped at the front door. She’d texted him that she might be running late and told him to make himself at home. And he had. Over the past week, they had fallen into something of a routine, with him coming to her when he was done with work, spending the night. Then there were those few stolen moments during the day, before he started work and when she finished.
She had finally seen where he lived, in one of the larger rooms in the Osprey Arms, when she had run down to say hello. The temporary nature of it made her feel sorry for him, but he had successfully distracted her thoughts from it with a quick but very intense bout of lovemaking, somewhere in between the lunch rush and dinner prep.
She was glad that tonight was another one of his nights off, and already there were delectable smells wafting from the kitchen. He had put something on the stereo—his own mix, as it was something she didn’t recognize.
She took a moment to just melt into the doorframe, suddenly spent. It had been a tough day. Until now, her plans for the Golden Pear had been going along smoothly, but today, things had slowly started to unravel and then had continued to do so with a vengeance. And that was before her run-in with Quent.
Jake had had an emergency at another job and hadn’t been able to make it in today. She had decided to formalize herself as a business entity and had set up a business account at the bank and was also looking into a line of credit. And then she had found out that she needed more permits. So she had spent the day arguing, cajoling, and even moving furniture around. But she was close, close enough to feel it. The Golden Pear would have its grand opening in the next day or so—and none too soon, as her parents were due home any day now.
“You look beat.” Sean appeared to fill the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.
“I am,” she said, even as she felt the jolt of electricity seeing him always elicited. He was wearing a light gray t-shirt that hugged his arm muscles, a pair of flips flops and . . . . “Is that a bathing suit?” she asked incredulously.
“Yeah,” Sean said sheepishly. “Chase insisted he take me sailing.”
She let a smile flicker on her face. There had been a strong breeze today, the water outside the harbor flecked with white caps. “What did he you take you out on?” she asked, knowing that Sean, landlubber that he was, didn’t quite appreciate boats yet.
“It had a sail.” Sean shrugged. “Don’t forget, I’m from Indiana—the land-locked part of it. There aren’t many boats that you don’t have to paddle around there.”
“Big
or small?” Without realizing it, she had drawn closer to him. He smelled of wind and water and the barest hint of spice. His hair was wind-ruffled, and it looked as if he had gotten a sunburn on his nose.
“Smallish. It tipped over a lot. And it had two of those whatchamacallits—”
“Hulls,” Darby guessed.
“Yeah,” he said, as she moved closer to him. His eyes widened, and she heard his intake of breath. Gently, she touched his nose.
“Ouch.”
“You got some sun. It’s a catamaran. That’s what he took you out on.”
Swallowing hard, he nodded at her.
“I have something for your sunburn. It’s actually in the kitchen.” She brushed past him, relishing the contact.
“I picked up some fresh fish from some guy at the dock. And then I got some tomatoes, vegetables; I thought we’d just throw it all on the grill.”
She smiled at the question in his voice. “Sounds reckless. No recipe. No fancy ingredients?”
“Well, I did bring some stuffed clams from the deep freeze at the restaurant. They’re baking in the oven.
“Sounds great,” she said, as she plunked herself down on one of the stools.
“Have a glass of wine,” he said, pouring a glass of white from a chilled bottle and pushing it toward her.
She took a healthy sip, letting the crisp coolness run down her throat, already feeling some of the weight of the day lift from her.
“Tough day?” he asked as he took up a vegetable peeler and started in on some zucchini.
“Yes,” she said, and hesitated.
“Want to tell me about it?”
She hesitated, and then felt it all tumbling out. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.”
He looked at her, uncertainty in his eyes. “About what? Us?”
“No,” she said, hearing the panic in his voice. “Not us.” That was the one thing she was sure about.
“Oh, you mean your grand plan about sneaking your father’s restaurant from under him and signing a lease on a new location.”
“How did you find out about that?” she asked.
“I didn’t. You just told me,” he said.
Darby shook her head. “I can’t believe I fell for that trick.”
“I saw the ad circled in the paper, so I guessed you were already thinking big.”
“Big.” Darby heaved herself onto one of the stools that stood at the counter. “I think I’m going at light speed.”
“Just because it’s fast doesn’t mean it’s bad. I’ve seen your plan. I’ve seen your work. I’ve heard your customers talking. I don’t think you’re moving too fast. I think you’ve seen a market opportunity, and luckily you have the resources to capitalize on it.”
Darby took a deep breath, feeling the tension sink out of her. She hadn’t realized how much it meant to her to have Sean believe in her.
“So do you think I can pull this off?”
Sean came to her, took her chin in her hand, and looked her in the eye. “You make it sound like you’re pulling some sort of hat trick. Does it really feel that way to you? Doesn’t it feel like it’s finally all come together and you’re going in the right direction?”
She stared into his eyes, almost lost in them, before she nodded. “Thank you. I needed that.” And she knew that she did. That she needed him too. They hadn’t touched on the future, but she knew that she couldn’t imagine one without him. But she put that thought far away, willing herself to enjoy the moment as he shot her that quick, happy grin, his caramel-colored eyes twinkling.
“Any time. Pep talks are free.”
“I thought there was no such thing as a free lunch,” she answered him.
“You’re right, because dinner is going to cost you,” he said, pulling her close to him. “I was hoping we could pick up where we left off?”
“From when? The time . . . ,” she began, lowering her voice to whisper as she described a particularly naughty encounter on the porch. “Or the time when . . . .”
She heard his sharp intake of breath and felt the rasp of his stubbled chin against her neck.
“Either one would serve,” he said, “but how about I show you?”
His mouth clamped over hers, and she felt herself melt into him. Whatever nagging thoughts she had about his intentions dissolved as her body took over her mind, as his hands roamed over her, as she let herself be engulfed by him.
Together, they moved as if in a dance through the house, clothes dissolving around them. She led them up the stairs where, in one fluid moment, he swept her up off her feet and carried her into the bedroom, laying her gently down on the bed. For a moment, he did nothing but stand there, looking down at her, and she could see the look of reverence in his eyes. It swept over him quickly, clouded over by what she recognized as desire.
Slowly, gently, torturously, he lowered himself over her, his eyes searching her face as if looking for an answer. The tension and desire began to build in her until she could stand it no longer. She reached for him, her arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer, but he stopped her.
“Just let me look at you,” he breathed, a hand tracing down the front of her neck, tracing a line down to her breasts. A thumb flicked over her breast, and her nipples tightened in response, her belly clenching with desire.
“Touch me,” she whispered, not sure she could be patient. She wanted him, wanted him now, his hands on her, him filling her. His hands cupped her breasts, and she arched up to meet him, a small moan escaping her lips. She saw his smile, the way his eyes lazily traveled up and down. Somewhere along the way, she had lost her shirt, and now, with a quick motion, he removed her bra, her breasts springing free.
He brought his mouth down to one, then to the other, his tongue driving her mad. Slowly she felt his hand travel down the length of her stomach to skim the top of her shorts, and then with another efficient flick, he opened the button on her shorts, and his hand slid down between her legs. She was already damp, ready for him, but his hand just hovered, slowly, patiently caressing her through the thin fabric of her underwear.
She raised her hips and pushed down her shorts. Accepting her invitation, he slid them off and then her panties until she was naked beneath him. He watched her with an intense, dark look as his hands ruthlessly worked her, driving her toward the edge. Her hips pumped up to meet him, and she felt the climax slowly build. She was almost there, but just before she reached it, his hand came away and his mouth traveled down the length of her body.
She heard rather than saw him take off the rest of his clothes, felt his weight suspended over her as her hands clenched the bedspread.
“Please, now, I need you, Sean,” she practically sobbed as he slid into her, taking his time, going in deep until she was filled with him. Slowly, he moved, and she moved with him, her own needs forcing her to match him and move against him quickly.
“No, slowly, like this,” he breathed, moving with deep thrusts that speared her. She could feel the wave building in her and knew she hadn’t much longer. She sobbed his name, and in his answer she could hear that he was ready as well. Together, they rode the wave until they both crested, spent, satisfied.
“Wow, I should make dinner for you more often.” He rolled over on his side, his arm snuggling her close. Darby let herself relax, feeling the aches and pains unravel within her as she settled into him.
“I don’t think we ever got around to eating dinner.” Again.
“There’s still time,” he said, his lips brushing her neck.
#
Sean woke to an empty bed and sunlight filtering in through the open window. Sunshine, birds signing, even the sound of a boat horn. All he knew was that he was content. Happy—well, not entirely, since the bed next to him was empty. He wanted—no, he needed Darby. The realization hit him last night as he had made love to her, slowly, reverently. She didn’t have a clue how beautiful she was, how amazing she was to him.
It occurred to him t
hat, all of a sudden, he was thinking about a future. And not one that just included the next dinner he was going to cook, the next restaurant he was going to work in, or the next step in his career. Sure, he’d always thought that one day he would settle down, find the one, and have kids. But that had been in some distant far-off future. And since he’d come to Queensbay, he’d only been thinking about leaving. But that had changed even before he met Darby—the second time.
Here she was, taking the biggest leap of her life by starting her own business, and she wanted to share it with him. She came home and told him about her day, and he told her about his, and he couldn’t imagine it any other way. He sat up, throwing off sleep. He wasn’t certain just when he’d fallen in love with Darby Reese. Not, perhaps, from the moment he saw her, since that had gone badly, but perhaps from the moment he had stolen her mushrooms. But he knew for certain that he didn’t want to have a life that didn’t include her.
He found his shorts and checked the clock. With any luck, she would still be here, before she had to start her day.
#
“You’re still here.” Sean stood there, his hair standing on end. He was wearing only his shorts, and she could see, even in the dim light, the play of his perfect six-pack on his stomach.
“It’s early; you should go back to bed,” she said to him.
“It’s empty,” he said and came to sit at the counter. “Are you making coffee?”
“Yes,” she answered, turning her back, feeling suddenly shy. She found the glass coffee carafe, then her canister with her beans. Today, there were still a million things that needed to be done at the café—not that she could remember any of them as he sat there, in her kitchen, shirtless, his beautifully defined abs inviting her to feel them, distracting her.
Suddenly, he was there, standing behind her, his arms circling her, and she was slowly turning to face him. He had a light wash of blonde stubble on his face, and his eyes, which had blurred from sleep, were alight now with hunger.
Slowly, he started to kiss her neck, and then he trailed his lips up her cheek to her forehead and back down again.