Up to Me (Shore Secrets)

by Christi Barth

  Damn it. Why did he have to be so right? “Really? Don’t they revoke your guy card for saying things like that?”

  Gray laughed. “I’m willing to take that risk. I meant what I said this afternoon. I want to learn about you.”

  Good to know that her attraction wasn’t one-sided. And he did have a point. Some getting-to-know-you conversation was definitely in order before any more melting make-out rounds. Ella stood.

  “How about we have breakfast together tomorrow? Or, well, today, I guess,” she stammered. “Once the sun comes up.”

  A long arm reached out to pick up his glass, then Gray rose. “Sounds great. I don’t want to wait long to see you again.”

  Wow. The man said all the right things every single time. What were the odds? Should she be suspicious? Nobody could be that perfect, right? She’d have to put it to the group. Better yet, write her question in the lakeshore journal. Let the whole town weigh in, like usual. Which immediately decided where they’d go for breakfast.

  “I’ll take you to my favorite place. Want to meet in the lobby at nine?”

  He flashed a grin, gave her hand a quick squeeze. “If you’re there, I’ll be there. Well, as long as coffee’s there, too.”

  Slick. Verging on too slick. Or was it just middle-of-the-night madness? Perhaps paranoid caution kicking in? Guess she’d find out tomorrow when they met again in the reasoned light of day. For now, she’d take their encounter at face value.

  “Think you can sleep now, Ella?”

  Hardly. Not after the way he’d revved her up. But she’d have a much better time lying awake, replaying everything that had just occurred. “We’ll see. I agree that kissing you is better medicine than wine, at any rate.”

  “Good.” Gray backed out of her doorway. “Sweet dreams. No, wait, I take it back. Dream of me—and I hope it’s anything but sweet.” A wicked wiggle of his eyebrows and he was gone, padding soundlessly down the hallway’s thick Oriental rugs.

  Ella shut the door, then braced her palms on it, resting her forehead. This had been one wild night. Especially for a girl with semi-bedhead and no lipstick. Gray turned her head in the very best of ways. All the more reason not to trust her judgment, though. It was definitely past time to get feedback from everyone else, the same way she’d handled every major decision for the past three years. Except, for once, she was tempted to keep all this wonderfulness to herself.

  Chapter Four

  “Did you spike my wine last night? With some bizarre, time-travel drug?” Gray stared at the row of brick and stone buildings that would look right at home with aqua tailfin cars stuffed with bobbysoxers. The building in front of him sported a deep green awning. Above it, white painted letters spelled out Cosgrove General Store. Wooden benches sat in front of almost every business, shaded by either awnings or the row of leafy trees lining the sidewalk. “Cause I’m pretty sure you brought me to 1954 for breakfast.”

  “Well, you did say you’d go anywhere as long as there was coffee,” Ella teased.

  Her sweet sassiness made him smile. Gray had wondered if she’d regret their late night kisses once her alarm went off. After all, they’d gone about the whole thing backwards. Accidentally went straight to end-of-date frolicking without bothering to have an actual date first. Without bothering to learn much at all about each other.

  As he thought about it, Gray held back a wince. Well, to be more accurate, Ella knew next to nothing about him. Gray, on the other hand, now knew that she owned the very freaking hotel he’d come to town to study and, more likely than not, that he’d recommend for immediate takeover and closure by his company.

  He’d seen the bank statements. Hell, he’d pored over every page of Ella’s mortgage on the castle, along with the outstanding debts. She was overextended and close to default. Ruffano & McIntosh could buy her mortgage from the bank, up her required payments and Mayhew Manor would be forced to close in a matter of months. Talk about complicated. A smart man, a business-savvy man, would walk away. Would turn tail and run away. Would’ve bailed on her for breakfast by inventing an excuse of some miraculously back-from-the-dead fiancée who’d contacted him overnight. Hell.

  Instead, he just said, “You’re right. My bad. I only stipulated to you and coffee. I should’ve thought that through better.” He’d ignore the guilt that burned like heartburn. After all, there was no happily ever after for them. Ella thought him a tourist, leaving in two weeks. Why he was here didn’t matter so much, just that he’d been upfront about leaving. They’d share some laughs, some kisses, and then they’d both move on. Unfortunately, that logic only eased his guilt, instead of wiping it clean away.

  “I promise there’s a space-age espresso machine inside.” The stiff morning breeze off the lake whipped the ends of her hair against her cheek. It tempted Gray to chase those strands, rub his knuckles down the sharp jut of her cheekbone, down to the supple line of her neck. “We know the quaint look appeals to tourists, but all the services are up-to-date. Wi-Fi, ATM machine inside, and ten flavors of coffee to choose from. My favorite’s the cherries jubilee.”

  Gray had resisted the coffee service in the hotel lobby. Denied his aching body’s screaming need for caffeine, not realizing that Ella planned to drive him an endless, uncaffeinated fifteen minutes along the lakeshore to get to their destination. “That’s why we came all the way down here? For coffee that tastes like dessert?”

  “Dresden’s more or less halfway between Geneva at the north end of the lake, and Watkins Glen at the south. Having the general store here makes it convenient for people to stock up without having to drive all thirty-eight miles from top to bottom.” Her face flushed pink in an adorable clash with her red-and-white-striped hoodie. “And I promise that ends the geography lesson for the day.”

  “That ends everything until you pour some coffee down my throat.” Gray opened the big, wooden door of the store and ushered her inside. A huge kayak hung from the ceiling’s pine rafters. Wide plank stairs cut through the center of the building beneath a hand-painted sign of an arrow, a fishing pole, and a tent. Shelves of typical tourist kitsch lined the walls. Most importantly, the dark, rich scent of coffee swirled throughout the large room.

  “So you’re one of those people.” Ella wrapped her hands around his arm and led him to the back of the store. A scattering of high tables with stools surrounded a long display counter in front of a chalked menu board. “The ones who can barely tie their shoes once the clock ticks over to a.m. without copious amounts of caffeine.”

  “Which makes you one of those annoying, perky morning people who judges desperate people like me?” Relationships had ended over lesser evils. Maybe this was Fate intervening before Gray grew any more entranced by Ella.

  “Yep.” Then she surprised him by popping up to her red-sneakered tiptoes to kiss him on the nose. “Don’t worry, sleepyhead. I’ll take care of you.”

  No such luck. Apparently Fate was a whimsical bastard, sucking him deeper under her adorable spell. Ella leaned across the wide counter to grab a mug roughly the size of a hollowed-out bowling ball. “Fill this up, and I guarantee you’ll feel like a new man in no time.” She pointed to the row of stainless steel carafes against the wall.

  Gray looked around the quiet room. Despite the open door and lights, it bore an empty, early morning hush that made him feel like an intruder. “Shouldn’t we wait for someone official to help us?”

  Ella shoved the mug into his hands and gave a little push. “I’m not just a regular. I’m a lifer. Special privileges include serving myself, along with helping to name the new sandwich every January.”

  The wet phffft of a loud raspberry sounded. “A privilege that should be revoked.”

  Gray barely spared a glance over his shoulder at the blonde woman who hollered from the front door. He was too busy pumping his mug full.

  “Casey, don’t start
again,” said Ella. “Neither of our sandwich names were chosen this year. It’s pointless to keep carping about it four months after the fact.”

  “Time hasn’t diluted how much it still annoys me. You’ve made stupid suggestions for three years running. Nobody wants to eat a sandwich called Delights of the Earth. Sounds like you’re trying to cram worms and mud down their throat.”

  “It was a roasted portabello sandwich. You dig mushrooms up from the earth. And they’re delightful. You get it, don’t you?” Ella asked Gray as she cozied up next to him with her own mug.

  “Strangers don’t get a vote. Not even when they’ve got a nice ass.”

  Gray turned to face the woman with a rasp to her voice that made him think of cigar smoke floating across a shot of bourbon. She wore khaki green shorts that almost matched her mossy eyes, and a tan shirt with a Park Service patch on the arm. A long, blond braid lay just to the side of the badge on her chest.

  “Well, introduce yourself and he won’t be a stranger anymore.” Ella sounded exasperated.

  The woman thrust her hand out at Gray. “Acacia Hobbes. My friends call me Casey.”

  “What should a guy with a nice ass call you?”

  She flashed him a quick grin. “Anything he wants.”

  “Graydon Locke.” They shook.

  Ella stepped toward them, wielding a can of whipped cream like a gun. “Hands off, Casey. I saw him first.”

  “Ohhh.” She drew out the word, long and slow. “This is who Brooke texted us about yesterday?” Casey circled Gray, looking him up and down. “For once, she didn’t exaggerate. I’m glad I voted yes in the poll.”

  Gray’s first sip of coffee exploded on his tongue with the life-giving force of a vampire’s fangs sinking into a vein. Rationally, he knew the effects would take another ten sips and just as many minutes to hit. But he already felt more awake. “Voted on what?”

  “Whether or not Ella should ask you out.”

  Glad he hadn’t gone in for that second sip yet. Gray’s hand froze with the mug halfway back to his mouth. “Excuse me?”

  Ella glared daggers, but Casey was busy filling her own mug and didn’t seem to notice. “As soon as Brooke noticed you two flirting at the spa yesterday, she texted a bunch of us to get a majority vote to convince Ella to ask you out.” She turned around, looked from Gray to Ella and back again. “I guess it worked.”

  He’d never been the subject of a poll before. As a man trying to lay low and blend in, Gray didn’t like the idea of people voting on anything to do with him. And as just a man, he really didn’t like the idea of anyone influencing a woman on whether or not to go out with him. It should be her decision. And his. Period. It came down to chemistry and attraction and sparks, not a pro/con list and a committee vote.

  “No.” Gray refused to accept that possibility. He had his pride, after all. “Ella did not bring me to breakfast because you all told her to. No freaking way.”

  “Um, yeah. That’s right.” Ella wouldn’t look at either of them. Instead, she hustled behind the counter and filled a platter with donuts and oversized muffins encrusted with sugar. “We’re having breakfast together...well, because Gray kissed me. With remarkable levels of both talent and enthusiasm.”

  Casey snatched a chocolate glazed from the top of the pile, then bumped him companionably with her elbow. “Well done.”

  Gray had absolutely no idea how to respond. This breakfast date was getting more surreal by the minute. Just how much of her personal life did Ella share with her friends? He had a sudden, nightmarish vision of them in a semi-circle, flashing scorecards the next time he and Ella made out.

  The front door slammed. Heels clattered against the pine flooring. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me last night with details. Who is he? Where’s he from? How hot is he? Did you ask him out?” The flurry of questions came from a tall woman in a top just a few shades darker than her red hair. Different length gold chains hung from her neck, and the matching bangles on her wrist tinkled with each step. She looked dressed for work, not for a casual Saturday morning.

  Shoulders hunched, Ella shot him a look of apology. Gray knew it wasn’t her fault. Still, it took a lot for him not to turn and walk out the door, rather than stay and be discussed like a prized hog up for auction.

  Casey laughed as she hitched herself up onto a stool. “Dial the inquisition back a few notches, Piper. He’s standing right here.”

  The redhead skidded to a stop. The frantic excitement on her delicate features smoothed away. She smiled and gave him a cool nod. “I’m Piper Morrissey. And you are?”

  “Graydon Locke.” He felt like he should pop a biceps or something. Maybe flex his pecs. Except that he was so sore after last night’s brawl that he’d whimpered just toweling off after his shower. Gray decided that trying to impress Ella’s friends wasn’t worth the pain. He settled for a self-conscious tug at the bottom of his long-sleeved blue polo. “Hopefully hot enough to pass inspection.”

  “You definitely get my vote.” Piper, too, helped herself to a mug and filled it. “Ella, now that I’ve seen him, you’re definitely in trouble for not calling to fill me in last night.”

  “She couldn’t.” Casey took a giant bite of a buttermilk donut. “Ella’s mouth was otherwise occupied last night...on Gray’s.” She snickered and inhaled, almost choking. A coughing fit ensued.

  Gray leaned over to thwack her between the shoulder blades. He didn’t have any female friends or sisters, so he couldn’t tell if this blatant oversharing was normal, or indigenous to the Finger Lakes. Might as well give in and get a T-shirt made that announced I Kissed Ella in big letters across the front.

  Ella bustled forward with plates, napkins and the platter of baked goods. She plunked everything on the table and beckoned for Gray to sit down next to her. Yet she still wouldn’t look him in the eye. Maybe she felt bad about springing the group date on him. Admittedly, Gray was surprised, but he could roll with it.

  “You said you wanted to learn about me.” Ella passed around napkins to everyone, including an empty seat that must indicate a yet-to-appear member of the peanut gallery. “Meeting my friends should tell you a lot.”

  So far, it told him only that the women were beautiful, had a good sense of humor, and were way too wrapped up in each other’s lives. Whereas Gray had simply wanted to find out if Ella liked U2 or Coldplay? Horror flicks or action thrillers? Tacos or pasta? Wanting to get back to the actual date part of breakfast, Gray grabbed Ella’s hand under the table and laced his fingers with hers.

  “We’ve been a tight group since high school. Saturday breakfast here is a sacred tradition for us.” Casey drilled her index finger into Piper’s arm. “All of us. No matter what.”

  Piper’s long-suffering sigh paired with an eye roll told Gray there was an interesting backstory here. Of course, anything that pushed him—and his debatable level of hotness—off the conversation plate would be interesting.

  “I know. I’ll behave. Stop poking me.” That professional mask settled back across her face as she turned to Gray. “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry I can’t stay very long, but there’s a big tour group due in this morning at my winery.”

  Now he really was intrigued. Cool jobs evidently abounded in this section of the state. “You own a winery? Funny, I met a guy last night who owns a distillery.”

  Her blue eyes frosted over. “Did you? Seneca Lake only has one of those. Unfortunately, he’s my neighbor.”

  Unfortunately? Gray and Ward had hung out the rest of the night. Seemed to be a stand-up guy. Low key, but with a dry wit and good taste in beer. Add in the fact that he was a Knicks fan, and Gray liked him. So he wondered what Ward had done to piss off Piper. Had to be business or sex. Every problem in life boiled down to that. Well, or family. Gray knew that to be true better than anyone.

  The front d
oor slammed again. “Speak of the devil,” she hissed, without even looking. In fact, Piper got up and topped off the coffee she had yet to taste, turning her back to the new arrival.

  Heavy boots thudded towards them. Ward looked much the same as last night, in a fresh flannel shirt over a tee and jeans, but with a fat lip and a bloom of purple bruising around his eye. “Sorry I’m late. Had a hard time rolling out of bed this morning.” He threw one leg over a stool. Ella squeezed Gray’s hand, then got up wordlessly to fill a mug for Ward.

  “You look like you got rolled,” commented Casey, with a worried pat to his cheek.

  Piper sauntered back to the table, a slight flare of her eyelids the only betrayal of her alarm at his appearance. “Classy as ever, Cantrell. Did you get in a bar fight?”

  “Yeah, actually.”

  “Figures,” she sniffed.

  Gray wanted to jump to his defense. Of course, he’d done that last night, and look what it had netted him; aching ribs and a shoe-shaped bruise on his thigh. So if Ward didn’t want to explain the situation, Gray would keep his mouth shut, too. But he did nod. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” said Ward with a corresponding nod.

  Finally. Someone who didn’t give a shit if, when, or how he kissed Ella. What a difference a little testosterone made. Guys didn’t care. Guys rolled with the flow. Didn’t ask a million questions.

  Ella slid a cup in front of Ward, then sat back down. Gray immediately grabbed her hand again. If they weren’t going to get the opportunity to talk, he’d damn well take the opportunity to touch her.

  “I had to drive into Corning yesterday afternoon to pick up a part for my labeler.” Ward sucked down about half his mug in one long gulp. “Forgot my phone at home. Didn’t see Brooke’s text until about midnight. Sorry I didn’t vote on the hot guy. I say go for it.” He fished in his back pocket. Pulled out a familiar, shiny foil packet. And shoved it across the table at Ella. “Here. I brought you a condom. Safety first.”