She blinked at him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think so.”
She stepped away from him and he let her. Then he gave her the lopsided smile that she had grown to love and said, “We’ll see about that, sunshine.”
• • •
It could have been the singing balloon telegram he sent to the bakery the next day that chipped away at her boundaries, or perhaps the ten-pound box of chocolates, or maybe it was the limousine that arrived at her house that night to pick her up for a night on the town in Portland. Then again, it could have been the ruby earrings and necklace he gifted her with during their romantic candlelit dinner at a five-star restaurant that overlooked the water. Maybe it was one of those moments that opened the way for Carly to yield, or perhaps it was the combination of all of them, she didn’t know. She just knew that James was getting to her and she had no idea what to do about it.
The truth of it was that Carly had no real experience with dating, and she wasn’t sure she liked not having control. Sure, it was lovely to have someone put so much thought into making her happy, but it didn’t feel right. It was uncomfortable, like a shirt that was too tight.
When she frantically group texted her friends from the ladies’ room at the restaurant, they assured her that yes, this was what dating was all about. When she offered up the possibility that James was just doing this to get into her pants, ever helpful Gina pointed out that he already had, so really any maneuvers from him to that end were superfluous at best. Carly had no idea what to do with that.
Over the course of the next week, which included a candlelit dinner at home of spaghetti and meatballs, her mother’s recipe no less, where her friends ran the kitchen and served while Ike, Saul, and Hot Wheels joined James and Carly for dinner and were outfitted in matching bow ties, she determined that it wasn’t the big gestures, nice as they were, that were breaking her down.
It was the little things, like the way James always opened the door for her or pulled out her chair. He listened to her when she spoke, asking questions about her childhood, and he laughed at her ridiculous tales of the five DeCusati sisters. He asked about her new job, showing that he cared about her world and wanted to hear more. He asked what she thought she wanted to do in the future, without ever telling her what he thought she should do.
He was goofy and funny and self-deprecating in a way that charmed her silly. It was clear that he knew he had blown it but was doing everything he could to get her to give him one more chance. He never did more than kiss her swiftly on the lips at the end of their dates. He was so respectful, in fact, that Carly was beginning to wonder if he still wanted her in that way.
After a day trip to Bar Harbor, where he had behaved like the absolute most perfect boyfriend ever, he walked her to her door and kissed her once again, gently on the lips, keeping his behavior above reproach. Carly had been so frustrated, she had taken the opportunity to press herself up against him, pleased to discover that his attraction to her was self-evident. Still, he declined her invitation to come inside or to come at all. In a lust-fueled haze of want, she did not think she was overacting to think that their new relationship was reaching a tipping point.
On the morning she awoke to the sound of something that resembled a cheese grater being dragged over a rock, she glanced out the window to discover a thick frost had formed the night before, coating everything in a thin blanket of ice. And there in her driveway was James in his gray scarf and thick wool coat, scraping her car clear of the frost that had formed.
He wore a hat but his thick black hair shot out from under it, refusing to be tamed. His cheeks were ruddy, giving him a decidedly New England manly sort of look. He hummed softly while he prepped her car and when he was finished, he checked it over and then got into his own vehicle and drove away. He was looking out for her and that meant the world to Carly because no man ever had before.
Something cracked inside of her at that moment. Perhaps it was her own coating of ice, the one she’d kept her heart in for so long, she didn’t know. Either way, Carly felt something inside of her soften and settle. It was clear James had been showing her what sort of boyfriend he intended to be. He had asked her to give him a chance to prove himself and she had. It was decision time.
• • •
Ike and Saul watched her as she fluffed her hair. She turned away from her reflection and asked them, “What do you think? Can I win him over like this?”
Saul thumped his tail on the bedspread and Carly ruffled his ears. He licked her wrist in return. Ike gave her a wolf whistle and bobbed on his perch as if in agreement. Carly reached up and rubbed the back of his head just the way he liked it. He turned and pressed the top of his head into her palm. It was a gesture of total trust and Carly knew that it wasn’t just her relationship with James that needed to be decided.
It hit her then that she couldn’t imagine her life without these two guys in it. They had managed to wag and flap their way into her heart and she knew there was no going back. She was theirs, and they were hers. Her guys, her fellas, her special boys.
“All right, so I suppose I should declare it out loud so we’re all on the same page,” Carly said. “I love you, Ike and Saul, and, well, I think you’re stuck with me because I can’t bear to let you go.”
Ike stretched his back and flapped his wings as if celebrating the best news ever while Saul rolled onto his back and thrust his belly into the air.
“I take it you’re okay with staying with me?”
Saul gave a soft woof and Ike squawked, “You butthead.”
Carly laughed, not a delicate little chortle, oh, no, this was a full-on guffaw. Yeah, they were hers, all right. Maybe Mrs. Genaro really had known that Carly needed them as much as they needed her.
She glanced at the ceiling and said, “Thanks, Mrs. G.”
Now she just needed to figure out what to do about James. She had a plan. She was wearing her unstoppable little black dress and her super-high heels. Her hair was done in tousled curls that fell around her shoulders and her makeup was light but she’d gotten some pointers on how to do the smoky eye from Lola and Emily; yes, she’d called James’s family to let them know what she planned. Thankfully, they were all in.
It was dance party night at The Grind, and the Maine crew was meeting up to kick off their night there. Carly planned her arrival so she’d be the last to show. She wanted to sneak in and get the lay of the land before she made her move.
She parked her car in the lot in back and ducked into the coffeehouse, using the rear door. The staff knew she was Gina’s sister and they called out a greeting as she slipped through the kitchen to the front using the Employees Only door.
Carly perched herself on a stool by the wall where she could watch the room. The crew was in a booth by the window while James was out on the floor dancing with Mac’s aunts, Sarah and Charlotte. The three of them were doing some crazy hip-hop moves to “Can’t Feel My Face” by The Weeknd. When James clapped his hands to his face and swiveled his hips in a seriously seductive way, Carly choked on the espresso Gina had just handed her.
“Nice,” Gina said. She grabbed a rag and cleaned up Carly’s mess. “Very ladylike.”
The Grind was Bluff Point’s only coffee shop and it thrived by hosting loads of entertainment, including a nightly DJ or band, as well as poetry slams, art shows, and board game and trivia nights, essentially whatever seemed interesting and fun. Carly looked at her sister and noticed for the first time how in control she was of this place of business.
She jerked her thumb at the dance floor and asked, “Was this your idea?”
Gina shrugged. “I’ve been known to have a few.”
“I’m impressed,” Carly said.
Gina blushed and looked away and Carly realized she liked her baby sister, really liked her.
“I probably should have noticed how cool you’ve become a lot sooner,” she sai
d.
Gina’s eyes shot up to hers and Carly smiled. Gina beamed back at her and said, “Thanks.”
They both glanced back at the dance floor and Gina leaned close and asked, “So, how long are you going to torture the poor boy?”
Carly looked at her as if she had no idea what Gina was talking about. Gina raised one eyebrow and shook her head at Carly.
“Don’t even,” she said. “It’s so obvious that he is crazy in love with you. If you don’t feel the same way, it’s time to cut him loose.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Gina said. “You’re better than that.”
A customer signaled for Gina’s attention and she left, leaving Carly to watch James dance with the aunts. When he glanced up at her and caught her watching him, his lopsided grin made her heart somersault in her chest. When she considered cutting him loose, she felt the exact same wrenching pain she’d felt when she thought about letting go of Ike and Saul. This was it then. Decision time.
James delivered the aunts back to their table and joined Carly by the counter. The crew at the booth had busted out a Scrabble board. Things looked to be getting heated as they bickered over whether the word “muggle” from Harry Potter was considered legit.
“Sick dance moves, James,” she said.
“Thanks.”
Carly turned to face him as they were tucked in the shadows of the shop, with the counter beside them and the wall behind her.
“I meant sick as in stomach issues and have to use the bathroom not sick as in cool,” she clarified.
“Ouch! Harsh,” he said. He laughed and added, “It was the gyrating hips, right? Too much?”
“Yes, you are too much,” she said.
He tipped his head to the side as if he could tell there was a double meaning there, but he didn’t want to interrupt her by asking what she meant—just one more of the many things she loved about him. He was really good at being still and listening.
Carly leaned back so she could meet his gaze and then she sighed. Her hands were shaking, and she thought she might throw up. She was scared shitless right now, but she knew Gina was right, and it was now or never because she didn’t know if she’d ever get the nerve up to talk to him like this again.
“I was fine, totally fine with my life . . . and then you showed up and changed everything,” she said.
James went completely still. Did he remember saying those exact words to her? He looked at her as if he did, which made her feel safe enough to keep talking.
“And you messed up everything,” she said.
He nodded as if he was familiar with the feeling and she had to check the urge to give up talking and hug him tight.
“Why are you wooing me?” she asked. “Why didn’t you walk away? Leave? Find someone else?”
He reached out and cupped her chin with his hand. Carly was relieved to see he was shaking as badly as she was.
“Because I can’t let you go,” he said.
His voice was so soft she had to strain to hear him and just like that Carly felt the last of her resolve melt.
She huffed a breath and met his gaze and asked, “You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” he asked. He looked confused and a little wary.
“That I’m in love with you,” she said.
He stared at her for a full three seconds as if it took that long for her words to fully register and the next thing Carly knew her back was to the wall and James’s mouth was on hers as he clutched her close with one hand on her hip and one buried in her hair.
The kiss was like liquid fire, scorching Carly from the inside out as his mouth took possession of hers, making her cling to him as she met his hunger in equal measure.
Then James wrenched his lips from hers and said, “Did you really just say that? Say it again.”
“I love you,” she said. His eyes were bright blue and glittered with relief and happiness as they moved over her face as if he was reassuring himself that she had really just said it.
Carly decided to help him out and said, “I love you. I’m in love with you. I, Carly DeCusati, am completely, wildly, madly, exasperatingly, head over heels in love with . . .” She lowered her voice, making it seductive, and said, “James, oh, James.”
That was as far as she got before he kissed her again. It was long and thorough, cementing the new status of their relationship, and Carly found she was okay with that, more than okay. She was giddy. She had a boyfriend again.
When they came up for air, he cupped her face with his hands and said, “I’m in love with you, too. Crazy in love with you, so much so that I have to ask you this right now before another second passes.” He took a deep breath as if he were bracing himself for a dive into deep, dark water, and asked, “Carly, will you marry me?”
Just when she thought the man could not surprise her any more, he took her out at the knees.
“You don’t have to answer ri—”
“Yes,” she said. Then she giggled. She clapped a hand over her mouth. Carly never giggled. Then she giggled again, and said, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
James kissed her, a swift and possessive meeting of their lips, then he whipped around toward the booth with their friends, and shouted, “Did you hear that? She said she’s going to marry me!”
There was a moment of stunned silence and then a whoop, from Zach, sounded and the crew poured out of the booth to come over and congratulate the happy couple.
Gina brought a bottle of champagne out from the back, bubbly was poured, toasts to the happy couple were made, and all the while, James never took his hands off Carly. It was as if he needed to be touching her at all times to reassure himself that this was real, they were real, and that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Carly wasn’t, not ever. She was going to marry this man. She felt her heart clutch in her chest. She had never known this sort of happiness was possible. She glanced at her friends, Emma and Brad, and Mac and Gavin, and she got it now. This was true love, the I-can’t-live-without-you love that the songwriters gooped on about, and it was hers. Still, she had made a promise to Pops.
Slyly, she slipped out of James’s hold. She gestured that she needed to use the bathroom and he reluctantly let her go, kissing her before he released her. But instead of going to the bathroom, she ghosted through the front door, standing just outside the shop where she could see him through the window, then she texted him.
Catch me if you can.
She watched him get the text. He looked up from his phone and glanced around the coffee shop and then saw her through the window. The lopsided grin he sent her was blinding and then with a singleness of purpose that left her breathless, he was striding toward her.
Carly laughed as she turned and began to jog down the street. She planned to let him catch her at the corner, but just this time, because they had a whole lifetime to spend chasing each other and she couldn’t wait for it to start.
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Every Dog Has His Day
THE NEXT BLUFF POINT ROMANCE FROM JENN McKINLAY, COMING SOON FROM JOVE
“Yeoooow!”
Ugh. Zachary Caine was pretty sure that earsplitting caterwauling could reanimate the dead, of which he was one.
He was lying on his overstuffed blue leather recliner couch affectionately known as Big Bertha watching Sunday playoff football on mute because the unexpected houseguests he had were still asleep upstairs in all three of his bedrooms.
In what had seemed like a singular act of good manners at the time, he had insisted his company take the beds while he took the couch. Now, having spent a sleepless night because Big Bertha, whom he’d had since his college days, had a dip in the middle the size of the Grand Canyon, he was sure his spine had been reconfigured into a serpentine S curve of pain. Clearly, chivalry was overrated.
General
ly a cheerful, happy-go-lucky sort, Zach was feeling a tad surly. He glared at his couch mate Rufus, the cinnamon standard poodle he was dog sitting for a friend, who looked at him from beneath the pouf of curly hair on his head as if trying to determine whether Zach wanted him to bark or not. Zach met his gaze and watched as Rufus rolled onto his back and fell back to sleep.
“Really?” Zach asked the dog, who ignored him. “Isn’t it your job to investigate strange noises or at the very least bark at them?”
Rufus yawned and Zach watched as his eyes rolled back into his head.
“Yeoooow!”
Crap! What was making such a racket? Zach rolled onto his side, flinching through the back pain, and pulled a pillow over his head.
“Yeoooow!”
Argh! The wailing cut right through the fluffy pillow and now he could hear the sound of voices outside his front door, too. No, no, no! Go away! Seriously, if it was a door-to-door salesman, he might punch the guy in the throat on principle. His doorbell rang.
That did it! Zach threw the pillow across the room and pushed himself up to his feet. His back muscles protested by clenching into a hot ball of pain. He huffed out a breath and forced himself to shuffle to the door.
It was Sunday. Wasn’t it supposed to be a day of rest? Why were people forcing him to be upright? And moving? It was just so wrong!
He unlocked the door and yanked it open. He opened his mouth to bark at the rude people on his porch, but the words never left his lips. Standing in front of him were two little cherubs with pink cheeks and tousled curls poking out from under their woolen hats, looking up at him with big, imploring eyes. Crap!
“Hey, mister,” the little one said. “We need your help.”
Zach squinted at her. If this was a Girl Scout cookie dealer, he was all in. Those little round yummies were his crack.
“Yeooooooow!”
Barking Up the Wrong Tree Page 33