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Summer Temptation (Hot in the Hamptons Book 2)

Page 3

by Wendy S. Marcus


  “I’m sorry for both — for everything that came out of my mouth.” I stared down into her eyes. “For being the biggest jerk ever.” She stood up to me, staring straight back, silent, as if waiting for more. I gave it to her. “I live a high-stress, fast-paced life that has gotten even more stressful since the health of both of my grandparents has started to decline.”

  She looked away. “You’ll have to do better than that. In the past three months my dad had a heart attack and my grandpa had a stroke that left him incapacitated. I had to coordinate care for both of them, visit them in two different facilities, and pay their bills all while finishing up my senior year at Penn State. I still managed to graduate at the top of my class. And,” she looked up at me. “I still managed to be nice to people.”

  Obviously she was a much better person than I was. But still, if this was a competition, I’d win for sure. “For the past year I’ve been basically supporting my grandparents in addition to myself. On Friday afternoon, a few hours before I showed up at the restaurant, forty employees at my company, myself included, got unceremoniously laid off. No warning. No severance. No ‘thanks for working your ass off for the past two years.’”

  She put her soft hand on my forearm. “Wow. That stinks.”

  Yup. Sure did. I covered her small hand with my larger one, my touch gentle, but keeping her there nonetheless.

  “After cleaning out my cubicle I rushed to my apartment to dump the single, half-empty box that contained everything I had to show for two years of hard work and dedication, and rushed to catch the train out to the Hamptons, only to find my granddad and his car gone. He knows I don’t like him driving in summer traffic.”

  “He told me that.”

  “By the time I got to the restaurant I was already on the verge of losing it.”

  “Then you saw me…”

  “And I lost it. And I am really, very sorry it happened. If I could take it all back I would. But I can’t.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “So I’m forgiven?” Easy as that?

  She thought about it, then did something I hadn’t expected. Taking back her hand, she held it out to me. “We haven’t been formally introduced. My name is Leigh.”

  No last name. No problem. “Nick,” I said, shaking her hand. “Nick Kenzy. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Leigh.” A total pleasure. More so tonight than the first time.

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  I could just make out her smile in the moonlight. I smiled back, realizing I’d smiled more in the past half hour than I had in months. “So we’re good? I can report back to my granddad that I’m forgiven, and you don’t think poorly of him because of me?”

  “Yes. And please give him my regards.”

  “He had a great time with you. In fact, I can’t get him to stop talking about you.” Not that I minded.

  She turned to look out at the ocean. “If only I had the same effect on guys my own age.”

  Did she hang around a bunch of limp-dick morons? The woman was kind and well-spoken, classy and gorgeous. “I’m sure you do.”

  She shook her head. “I’m too serious, too smart, too involved with my family.”

  “Those aren’t bad things.” In fact, they were qualities I very much respected.

  She glanced over toward the party. “I should get back. My friends will wonder what happened to me.”

  After seeing how the blond kept an eye on Leigh, I was actually pretty surprised they’d given us this long to talk. With the thought of Leigh leaving, I realized I didn’t want our time together to end. I liked her, and wanted to get to know her better. Hmmm. “I know I have no right to ask. That I am totally overstepping the bounds of our tenuous, dare I call it, friendship. But would you do me a favor?”

  She looked up at me warily.

  I held up both hands. “Nothing crazy. I was just wondering if you’d be willing to come by my granddad’s place for dinner next week. I’m not a great cook, but I can barbecue a pretty good burger. Or steaks. Or I could probably do chicken or shrimp.” Anything. Just say yes.

  “I don’t know.” She took a step back.

  I wasn’t ready to give up. “Right. I get it. You don’t know me. I mean, really know me, and here I am inviting you back to my place, which is really not much different than the Big One inviting you back to his, although my intentions are totally honorable. I swear.” I put my hand over my heart for effect.

  She didn’t believe me.

  “You see, since grandma died, granddad has let his house go. It’s a mess, newspapers and magazines and food wrappers all over the place. The sink is overflowing with dishes. I offered to hire a cleaning lady once a week, but he refused, doesn’t want some stranger in his house. Whenever I visit and try to clean we wind up getting into a huge fight.” I hated fighting with him. “He says he’ll do it. I know he won’t do it. But if I were to go home tonight and tell him I invited you for dinner, he’d have to let me clean. Hell, he’d probably help because he’d want to make a good impression. So you’d really be doing me a big favor if you’d say yes.”

  There I was, bartering my granddad to get a date. But the reason behind my suggesting the barbecue was a valid one.

  She took a little longer to think about it than I would have liked, so I added, “You can bring your friends.”

  That seemed to get her to relax a bit. Good.

  She reached inside her string backpack. “Give me your number.”

  I did. Gladly. She programmed it into her phone. “Do you have a specific day in mind?” she asked.

  “Nope. My schedule is completely open.” It’s not like I had a job to go to come Monday.

  “Let me see what my friends and I have going on next week. Then I’ll give you a call.”

  “Perfect.” And she was. Absolutely perfect.

  Leigh

  Five days later, I arrived at Murphy’s house just before six o’clock. He lived in an older neighborhood about half an hour from the beach. Small houses on small lots, some better maintained than others. With summer traffic, the trip had taken me close to an hour.

  Murphy’s house was one of the better maintained ones, which surprised me, after what Nick had said about his granddad letting things go after his wife had died.

  Murphy watched from the screened door as I exited my car. He had a big smile on his face, and I found myself very happy to see him again. “Come in.” He opened the door, stepping to the side to make room for me.

  “I brought dessert,” I said, handing him the small bakery box and a container of cut up fruit I’d picked up in town.

  “Hmmm,” Murphy said. “What’s in the box?” His eyes lit up in anticipation of my answer.

  “You’ll have to wait until after dinner to find out,” I teased.

  “As if he’d wait to peek inside,” Nick said, joining us in the entryway, looking so handsome and relaxed in a pair of tan cargo shorts and a pale orange tank that looked great against his tanned skin, his dark hair mussed, like he’d finger-combed it after his shower. “Man’s had a sweet tooth for as long as I’ve known him. Even though his doctor told him he needs to knock it off and show some restraint.”

  Murphy took the box without comment and walked away. I assumed to the kitchen, leaving Nick and me alone in awkward silence. I tried not to stare at the well-defined muscles on his arms. I’d never found a muscular man appealing before. Before? I swallowed, looking down at the dusting of hair on his equally muscled legs. Then, before I could stop myself, “Despite your busy schedule, you obviously make time for the gym,” tumbled out of my mouth.

  I felt my face heat.

  He smiled.

  Shaking my head, I told him, “I’m not good at this.” In the classroom and in all matters of business, I could articulate with confidence. With my dad’s friends and associates, I communicated with ease. I had no problems talking with senior citizens, and with my friends, meaningful, helpful and even funny words flowed effortlessly. But in social situation
s, outside of my comfort zone…? There was a reason I preferred to be home alone.

  “You’re very good at this,” Nick said, completely serious.

  I appreciated that, and started to relax, looking around the small family room, everything clean and neat. “Looks great.”

  “We’ve been working almost day and night since I told Murphy I’d invited you over, but we did it.”

  “Chocolate cake!” Murphy called out. “She brought us chocolate cake.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the excitement in his voice.

  “It’s for dessert,” Nick called back. “Put it in the refrigerator.” But he was smiling too, his affection for his grandfather evident. I liked that.

  When Murphy walked back into the room, I told him, “You have a lovely home.”

  “My Lilly liked to keep a nice house,” he said.

  “Well, she’d be proud to see you keeping it up so nicely in her absence.”

  Murphy glanced over at Nick. “Someone finally put a much needed fresh coat of paint on the front porch.

  “Only because someone finally let me put a much needed fresh coat of paint on the front porch.”

  I looked back and forth between them, unable to contain my smile. “You two are like an old married couple.”

  Murphy leaned in, cupped his hand at the side of his mouth, and, in a loud whisper, said, “My Lilly was much prettier than he is.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, looking Nick up and down. “He looks very pretty to me.” What? I fought the urge to slap my hand over my mouth to keep anything else embarrassing from coming out. He wasn’t pretty. He was handsome and confident and sexy. Enticing. And there I stood, looking him over…again. What the heck was wrong with me?

  Hormones.

  No! Not hormones. Definitely not hormones. Simple sexual attraction. That was all.

  “Luckily, I’m secure enough in my manhood to take that as a compliment,” Nick said with a smile. “So thank you.” He looked me up and down in return. “I think you’re very pretty, too.”

  That made me happy. I’d worked very hard to look pretty tonight, trying on at least six outfits before Storme picked out this simple navy blue and white maxi dress with thick stripes, spaghetti straps, and a tie at the waist that gave me a nice shape – according to Storme.

  “Come out on the deck,” Nick said, guiding me in that direction with his hand at the small of my back. I loved it when men did that.

  “I made fresh iced tea and lemonade,” Murphy said.

  “Or there’s beer or wine,” Nick added.

  “You boys went all out,” I noted. “Thank you.” I looked toward Murphy. “A glass of lemonade would be perfect.”

  The deck was shaded by tall trees and overlooked a lovely backyard lined with flowers and a white wooden fence. What really caught my attention, though, was the patterned china plates set on the glass patio table.

  Nick noticed me looking, and said, “I told granddad paper plates would be fine, but he insisted on going all out.”

  Murphy returned with two tall glasses of lemonade. “Lilly would have wanted me to set a nice table for our special guest.”

  So sweet. “Well, the table looks lovely, and I’m honored. Thank you.”

  Murphy shot a look at Nick that seemed to say, “See? I told you so.”

  “Would you grab me a beer?” Nick asked Murphy.

  When he was gone, Nick whispered, “I still haven’t told him I lost my job. He thinks I’m home on a two week vacation… Please don’t mention it.”

  “Of course. And the house really does look great.”

  “Because of you,” he said with appreciation.

  “Because of you,” I countered. “You did all the hard work.”

  Dinner was nice, the hamburgers delicious, the conversation smooth and enjoyable, and the atmosphere calm and friendly. All too soon Murphy glanced at his watch, said, “Time for Jeopardy,” and got up from the table, leaving Nick and me alone.

  “Yes,” Nick said. “We live our lives according to the television schedule around here.” He smiled so at ease. I envied that.

  “Maybe I should…” I pushed back my chair, planning to clear my dishes.

  “Sit,” Nick said. “Relax. Let’s enjoy this beautiful night.”

  Beautiful indeed, the air warm but with a refreshing breeze. “It’s so peaceful here.” It reminded me of the back porch at my dad’s house.

  “I love this area. I grew up in the next town over.”

  That surprised me. “Then how’d you wind up in New York City?”

  He smiled. “I love the city, too.” His smiled died. “When I didn’t have money there were so many things I wanted to do but couldn’t. When I finally had the money, I didn’t have the time or energy. And now…” He looked into the backyard.

  I put my hand over his. “You’ll find something.”

  He turned back. “I know.” He glanced down at our hands. “But how long will it take? Will I make enough to keep my apartment and keep granddad living here?”

  I liked his concern for his grandfather. Despite my initial impression, Nick Kenzy was a good guy.

  “Will I have to work the same insane schedule?” he went on. “While life passes me by, only to be unceremoniously fired, again, when my new company fails to meet projected earnings? Or when there’s a downturn in the market? Or when the CEO wants a raise and there’s not enough money in the budget to give him one?”

  “I recently read about a CEO who took a cut in pay to give all of the employees in his company a raise.” I tried to lighten the mood.

  Nick let out an unhappy laugh. “Trust me, honey. A CEO willing to do that is the rarity, not the norm.”

  He looked tired and worn out. I started to stand again, wanting to give him time alone to rest.

  He stopped me again, this time with a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry.” He finished off his second bottle of beer. “Here you are fresh out of college, all wide-eyed and ready to take on the world. And here I sit, two years out of college, unemployed, cynical, beat up and spit out by Wall Street.”

  What could I possibly say that would make him feel better? Nothing came to mind, so I said nothing.

  After a minute or two, Nick looked over at me and said, “You’re not like the majority of women I know.”

  “That’s a problem?” Of course it was.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Far from it, actually. I like that you’re comfortable with silence, that you don’t feel the need to fill it with idle chit chat and ‘look on the bright’ side bullshit.”

  “Not every situation has a bright side,” I said, knowing that from experience.

  “Very pragmatic of you.”

  “It’s a character flaw.”

  He smiled. “No it’s not.” He stood. “Come with me.” He walked behind my chair and eased it back as I stood. Such a gentleman. “I want to show you my grandmother’s pride and joy.”

  “Beside you, you mean?”

  He smiled again. “Yes, besides me.”

  I followed him down the deck stairs to the yard below. In the far corner were dozens of rose bushes in full bloom, vibrant pinks, yellows, peaches and reds. “They’re…” lovely didn’t do them justice, so I decided on, “…exquisite.”

  “Like you,” he said.

  I felt myself blush, only he didn’t see it because he’d turned his back on me and was walking to a small red shed. A moment later he returned with some type of clipper, cut one of the peach roses and handed it to me.

  When he went to cut another one, I reached for his hands. “Don’t.”

  He clipped a second long stem, with a pink bud this time. “My grandmother would have wanted me to share her treasured roses with the person responsible for bringing happiness back to her husband’s life.” Then he handed me a perfect yellow bloom.

  “Wow.” I smiled. “You never say or do the wrong thing around women, do you?”

  He turned to me all serious. “When we first
met I called you a prostitute.”

  Yes, he had, but I was over that. “You did?” I brought the fragrant flowers up to my nose. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

  “Thank you.” Then he stood there, watching me.

  “What?” Did I have ketchup on my face? Something in my nose?

  “I like you, Leigh.”

  Uh… “I like you, too, Nick.” I really did.

  “Would you go out to dinner with me? Just the two of us?”

  The words, Oh yes, I’d love to, balanced on the tip of my tongue, ready to fly out of my mouth, only things were a little complicated for me right now. I couldn’t, in good conscience, move forward without…

  “Nick…” I hesitated, trying to figure out how much to tell him and where to start.

  “You have a boyfriend.”

  “No.”

  “You—”

  “Might be pregnant,” came out of my mouth. Based on the shocked look on Nick’s face, those were the absolute last words he’d expected to hear.

  Leigh

  “It’s a bit of a shocker for me, too,” I told Nick as I studied the roses, avoiding eye contact, regretting my brutally honest words. Why couldn’t I have simply said, “Yes,” when he’d asked me if I had a boyfriend? Why couldn’t I have come up with any explanation that didn’t include the word ‘pregnant?’

  Because I really liked him, damn it, and if we were going to be spending time together, he deserved to know. Because I’d been feeling so alone and in need of someone to talk to, and Nick was so easy to talk to. Because maybe it wouldn’t…maybe he…maybe we could…

  “Might be pregnant?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I turned to face him. “Might be.”

  “I’m no expert, but isn’t there a test you can take to find out for sure?”

  I nodded. “But if I am, I’d rather not know just yet.” I went on to tell him about Storme’s wedding at the end of the summer, and how Kelsey, Storme and I had planned to have a fun summer to remember before we began our responsible adult lives – or I began life as a single parent.

 

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