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The Queensbay Series: Books 1-4: The Queensbay Box Set

Page 65

by Drea Stein


  “You mean the newest version of Augie’s?”

  Lynn nodded and Tory laughed. “That place changes menus and cuisines every six months.”

  Lynn laughed too, since Tory was right. Augie’s, located a bit off the main street and therefore out the way of the casual stroller by, struggled with an identity crisis. Greek, Italian, French cuisines, had all been tried—the one constant a killer margarita recipe. Finally, the owner, Augusta, had given in and gone for a Tex-Mex theme. Unfortunately, the margaritas were still the best thing on the menu.

  “That’s the one.”

  “I hope the margarita went down smoothly.”

  “It sure made listening to his stories about his Civil War figurines and his job a lot more interesting. He’s an accountant. My mom thought he was in computers, but apparently that’s his older brother.”

  “So?” Tory said. “My dad’s an accountant and a cool guy. Too old for you but still, he’s cool.”

  “His hobbies include memorizing vice presidential candidates. Did you know that John Quincy Adams used to swim naked every day in the river?”

  “Ok, umm gross,” Tory said as Quent slid two frothy pitchers of beer toward her, with a stack of glasses. “I guess there won’t be a second date?”

  Lynn shook her head. “Let’s just say, the date with Nate was the icing on the cake of a very bad day.” Nate didn’t have anything wrong with him. He was good looking and he paid for dinner, calculating the tip in his head to exactly eighteen and a half percent. And most of his vice presidential trivia had been interesting. It was just that he didn’t do anything for her. Lynn took a deep breath and twirled her wineglass in her fingers. She really didn’t need it, had just wanted to be with some company in a familiar setting.

  “How could it be any worse?” Tory asked as she gathered the pitchers and cups to her.

  “Well, the clinic’s closing,” Lynn said.

  “Closing? For real this time?” Tory’s caramel-colored eyes were wide with concern.

  “Yes, and it’s all because your boss’s brother has decided that a medical spa is more important than a clinic to the people of Queensbay.”

  “My boss’s brother…Who? Oh, you mean Jackson Sanders? What does he have to do with it? Last I heard he was Dubai or New York, or something like that.

  “Well, apparently he’s here, all six foot two of him, and he’s bought the building from Duane Petersen.”

  “Hmm,” Tory said thoughtfully. “So the international playboy has gotten tired of the traveling lifestyle and come home to roost. I guess traveling the world worked out well for him. I wouldn’t have thought he’d come here and buy a building. Especially that one. It looks like it’s about to fall down. Wonder if he knew that.”

  “Well, he did buy it and apparently he’s a rich enough jerk that he thinks he can do anything he wants, and that includes having a better class of tenants. Why does everything have to get gentrified? I mean a medical spa? Do they call it that just because the people who work there wear white coats? It’s an oxymoron, that’s what it is. I mean, Jackson Sanders can take his snooty attitude and five thousand dollar-suits and go jump in the harbor for all I care.”

  “You sound pretty worked up, but it sounds like Jackson. He’s not exactly in touch with his soft side.” Tory trailed off and Lynn looked at her sharply.

  “Do you know Jackson?”

  An awkward half smile flitted across Tory’s face. “Not exactly. I mean, it’s more like I know of him.”

  “Why, does his ice prince reputation precede him?” Lynn couldn’t help asking, knowing that she was dipping into the gossip arena. She had been dwelling on her encounter with Jackson all afternoon and evening, even while eating dinner. Nate had brown eyes, while Jackson had blue ones. Nate’s nose was slightly bulbous, while Jackson’s had been sharp and perfectly straight. All she could think about was the way his light blue eyes had regarded her coolly, as if she were no more than an unwelcome distraction, distracting her from Nate and his facts about the vice presidents

  As a doctor, Lynn was used to being viewed in a variety of ways, from an angel of mercy to the harbinger of bad news. But never had she felt so inconsequential. It had gnawed away at her all day.

  “No,” Tory said. Lynn waited.

  “No…so what happened? Did his puppy get run over when he was a little kid and that’s his excuse for his bad behavior today?”

  Tory shrugged, clearly not comfortable with the topic. “Something like that, but worse.”

  Slightly taken aback and shamed at her own flippancy, she stammered out a “Sorry…I didn’t…What could be worse?

  “No, it’s cool. Look, it was a while ago but his fiancée died. Like right before the wedding and well, she was from around here and they were kind of the hometown couple, and after it happened, Jackson just kind of left town and that was it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Jackson’s not like Chase at all. He was always pretty cocky, kind of a jerk, in fact. But I guess you know, his fiancée dying, that really hit him hard, so he left. He kept in touch with his family of course, but from what I gathered, he was working and traveling all over the world, trying to forget her and what happened.”

  “Wow, heavy stuff,” Lynn said digesting it all, trying to put together the picture of Jackson and his business-like demeanor with that of a grief-stricken fiancé.

  “Yup,” Tory agreed.

  There was a silence, and from behind them they heard a shout, then some laughter. The pub was beginning to liven up and she saw Tory glance back at the table of thirsty softball players she’d left behind.

  “You should join us. Just one beer?”

  “I do have tomorrow off,” Lynn said. Suddenly, sitting at a table full of people her own age sounded like a very good idea. After learning about Jackson’s past, she felt even more like she needed a distraction to put the thought of him, and his baggage train, out of her mind.

  “And,” Tory said, with a smile, “someone else is buying.”

  Chapter 9

  The moon was up and almost full, casting a silvery trail along the calm surface of the harbor. It was getting late but Lynn still felt drawn to the water and decided a quick detour down to the boardwalk along the edge of Queensbay Harbor was in order. She’d grown up out west, among the plains and the mountains and had never thought she was a water girl until she came to Queensbay.

  She’d left the bar and the softball players after another beer, ok, maybe two beers, but she felt fine, knowing the walk home along the quaint streets of Queensbay would help clear her head. She gazed down at the water into the ripples of silvered moonlight. She shivered, wishing she had thought to bring a coat. The heat of the day evaporated quickly now and the nights were markedly chillier, but the view was still breathtaking.

  It had been fun to hang out with people near to her own age. Everyone had been friendly and the talk had been about normal things. No Civil War strategy rehashes or politics—historical or otherwise. She might even have agreed to join one of the teams, but of that she wasn’t quite certain.

  Cold now, she headed for her building and started the climb up the stairs, tottering a bit in her high heeled boots. She knew she should think about getting to bed, but in truth she wasn’t tired. Her long nights as a resident, plus her own natural temperament had made sleep a luxury for so long she just didn’t need as much as other people. Instead, she was restless, unsettled.

  Maybe it was the full moon. After all, there was a known correlation between a full moon and a spike in emergency room visits. For whatever reason, people seemed just a little bit crazier when the moon was at full strength.

  She didn’t feel crazy exactly, maybe a bit morose. After all, she’d just had a lousy date and was about to lose her job. That was a blow, but she was more worried about what would happen with her Healthy Kids Now program. She had made so much progress with it in the past few months, really started to help a lot of kids, that she didn’t want to see it all end.

  She g
ot to the top and was surprised to see the light was out on the landing, and because of the way the building was situated it was dark on the balcony that ran in front of the apartments. She wasn’t afraid, but the light of the moon was a dim gray wash here and it was hard to see.

  She fumbled in her purse for her keys and dropped them, of course. With a sigh, she bent down to retrieve them, her eyes trying to grow accustomed to the darkness. One of her high heels caught in the groove between the long deck boards and she wobbled, trying to catch herself when she crashed into something behind her. Her head hit something hard and before she could help herself, a curse slipped out, as if that could lessen the pain.

  Fighting the impulse to just lay back and rest, she started to struggle to her feet when the world gave way behind her.

  Chapter 10

  “What are you doing?”

  There was an angry voice and all of sudden she was blinded by a bright light. It took a moment for things to make sense, and when they did, she realized that Jackson Sanders was looming above her, and that the top half of her had somehow managed to find its way inside the door, while her legs, her boots, and keys were very much stuck outside in the cold dark moonlight.

  In vain, she struggled to get up, using her arms and her thigh muscles in an attempt to propel herself forward. She almost had it when she felt, rather than saw, something swoop down. Within a moment she had been hauled upright, Jackson Sander’s arm holding her steady. It was warm against her bare skin, a lick of fire in the cold night air.

  His blond hair was slightly less combed than before, and his dress shirt was untucked and hanging out over his suit trousers. He was barefoot and she judged, after bringing her eyes back up to his face, seriously pissed.

  “What am I doing? What are you doing?” Lynn managed to stammer, taking a step back. The high heel of her boot however, was still caught, and she would have stumbled but for his arm, which kept her standing. Drawing a deep breath, she put a hand up on the doorjamb and bent down, and pulled on her heel, releasing her foot. At least now she wasn’t stuck, but even in her heels she was still much shorter than he was, and she was now at the disadvantage of looking up into Jackson’s smug smile.

  “I asked first,” he said, his voice so dangerously low it sent a shiver up her back. She remembered what Tory had told her, about Jackson’s past, and she wondered what if the icy façade really did hide a grieving man or if enough time had passed that this had become his true nature.

  “I live here,” she managed to stammer. She had a quick look around, making sure she really did recognize her door.

  A not very nice smile came over Jackson’s face as his eyes, full of insolence, traveling up and down her, taking in the black leather boots, her tight jeans and the filmy silk blouse that had slid proactively, and with unfortunate timing, off one of her shoulders, baring it to the cool night air. She saw his eyes drawn to the low cut V above her breasts just before they slid up to her face.

  He stopped there, one eyebrow raised, a faintly amused expression playing on his lips. She felt her cheeks start to flame. The outfit had seemed like a good idea when she had gone out with Nate. In fact, he could hardly keep her eyes off of her, but his gaze was nothing like Jackson’s cool appraisal and the effect it was having on her body.

  “Live here? Is that really the best you can come up with?” He leaned against his doorjamb now, arms crossed over his chest. Dimly, behind her, Lynn was aware of some shouts and calls from the street below. It was probably some of the softball team on their way home after their final round of drinks at Quent’s.

  “What do you mean?” Lynn sputtered, anger rapidly taking over her embarrassment. His blue eyes were like ice chips in that face. A face with beautiful, well-chiseled cheekbones. A mouth with wide, somewhat, full lips. If she’d been feeling romantic and Jackson was being less surly, she might have called it generous. But then she remembered there was nothing generous about him.

  “I mean, if you wanted to see me again, you could have called me, made an appointment. I would have been happy to fit you into my schedule during normal business hours. I assure you, you won’t get very far trying out your tricks on me.”

  “My tricks?” Lynn felt as if her head was going to explode, not quite able to piece together what Jackson was saying to her. And then it all came together.

  “You think I’m here to what…” Lynn fumbled for the words, “seduce you, proposition you? Because you want to close the clinic?”

  Any sympathy she might have felt for him, because of what Tory had told her about his fiancée, evaporated.

  The pompous look faded slightly from Jackson’s face.

  Lynn’s anger launched her forward, so that the toe of her booted toe was touching Jackson’s bare one.

  “Well, I…” Jackson now seemed to be having trouble speaking.

  “I’ve heard about you. Do you think that just because you’re some sort of international playboy you can come into this town and throw your money and looks around and just have everyone bow down to you?”

  Jackson’s eyes widened in surprise and he held his hands up, as if only just now realizing his mistake.

  But Lynn wasn’t done, not by a long shot. “Listen, mister. I pay your brother good money to rent the apartment...” Lynn leaned back to check, “next to this one. I am sorry that I disturbed you, but the light is out on the porch and I dropped my keys. I had no idea you were staying here, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t have bumped into your door.”

  “What? You’re renting here? Chase said nothing was rented.” Jackson seemed to have regained some of his composure and the smooth mask slid back onto his features as his arms closed, folded over themselves.

  “You think I’m selling you a story? Seeing as how I’m friends with Phoebe, he let me in early. So there.”

  Lynn could have kicked herself. Seriously, she was spending way too much time with kids, if that was the best parting shot she could come with. She might as well have called him a booger nose and be done with it.

  With as much dignity as she could muster, she turned on her heel and this time, it would have been a graceful exit, except she still didn’t have her keys. She looked around and saw them, shining brightly in the light spilling from Jackson’s door, resting in the soil of a potted plant. She scooped them up, remembering to bend from the knees so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her ass in the air.

  She didn’t, couldn’t turn around to see if Jackson was still watching, but as there was still a puddle of light spilling from his doorway she had to assume he had watched every moment of her miserable performance. Trying to keep her hands from shaking, she managed to insert the key into the lock of her door, twisted it quickly and thrust herself into the safety of the dark space.

  After a moment, she thought she heard the sound of a door closing shut and she saw, through the small crack at the bottom of the door, the puddle of light disappear.

  Chapter 11

  Jackson went back to the couch where he had his papers spread out, his laptop open, and a beer he didn’t need growing warm. He had been running the numbers on his business plan one more time. He looked at the computer but everything merged together. He threw down his pencil and leaned back, running his hands through his hair.

  He had officially made a mess of that, he thought. Looking back, he supposed that Chase had mentioned that one of the other apartments in the Annex was rented. The porch light was out, something he had noticed himself, had even made a note to tell the maintenance staff about it; and with it out, it might even be possible to mix the doors up, since no one had gotten around to putting numbers on them yet.

  But, honestly, what was he supposed to have thought? There was the girl, the woman, he supposed, that he’d seen earlier in the day, dressed in dirty scrubs. And then all of a sudden she had shown up, with her rich, silky hair piled high on her head, with some stray locks falling down, framing those dark, chocolate brown eyes and the round, slightly freckled face. An
d then there had been those long, tall boots with heels so high that she maybe, almost might have reached his shoulder. And the jeans, which had molded to her body so that he nothing was left to his imagination. And then her shirt had slipped, giving him a glimpse of one, gorgeously tanned shoulder.

  She didn’t seem like the type who went for sexy lingerie, but at that moment he would have given quite a bit to find out, just one little peek. Despite his resolve, despite reminding himself that he had sworn off women, especially ones who seemed to want something from him, the thought of Lynn Masters in nothing but her bra and underwear, with her dark hair piled sexily around her shoulders, flashed through his head and had his heart pumping.

  Just as abruptly, he shut the thought down and took a sip of his lukewarm beer. Jackson got up and wandered to the window. Chase had kept this apartment specifically for friends and family. It was decorated in a sleek, spare style that fitted a place that was meant to be for transients. The couch was comfortable but not too inviting. The kitchen counter boasted a toaster and a one-cup coffee maker. Throughout, everything was done in shades of neutral with an occasional nautical shade of blue as contrast.

  It was efficient and effective, and Jackson didn’t really need any more than that now. The work on his house was almost done, and he was eager to move in, to be in a real home. This apartment, as nice as it was, reminded him of all the temporary housing he’d lived in overseas and across the country. Just inviting enough to lull one into thinking it was homelike, but always lacking anything resembling warmth.

  Jackson wandered over to the refrigerator, opened it, then closed it, knowing he wasn’t really hungry, since he and Jake had sat together talking over steaks at the Osprey. He was just restless.

  Was he crazy thinking maybe she’d come to talk to him? Pleading hadn’t worked this afternoon, so maybe she thought that a more overt method of persuasion would tip the scales in her favor? What kind of man did she think he was?

 

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