Almost Home

by Macomber, Debbie; Duarte, Judy; Lamb, Cathy; Mary Carter

  “What do you say we leave these lovebirds alone?” Andy said, ignoring Amanda and walking toward Kate. Amanda’s head swiveled around like a demonic bobblehead doll.

  “Kate can’t go anywhere with you,” Amanda shouted. “She’s going sailing.”

  “I didn’t know you sailed,” Andy said to Kate.

  “She’s fabulous,” Amanda said. “And she’s late.”

  “Who are you sailing with?” Andy asked, apparently unfazed by Amanda’s demeanor.

  “Uh—owner of the bookstore—Tony?” Kate said. Andy’s smile evaporated, and before her eyes Andy turned back into the brooding man she’d met in his bedroom. Kate wondered if it had anything to do with the photography book Andy had been working on. Once again, she got the feeling that something had gone sour with the deal. Kate was dying to know what.

  “Oh,” Andy said. “Well, good for you.”

  “It’s not a date,” Kate said quickly. “It’s—uh—a group thing.” Kate said. That didn’t sound good either, Kate thought, wishing she could take back her words.

  “And you’re late,” Amanda piped in.

  “I’m going to the marina myself,” Andy said. “I can give you a ride.”

  “Great,” Kate said before Amanda could protest. “Let’s go.”

  “Do you think they’ll kiss and make up by the time we get back?” Andy asked as he walked Kate to his Jeep.

  “I hope so,” Kate said. “Although I’ll have to find another place to stay.”

  “There’s room in the tent.”

  “Lovely.”

  Andy laughed at Kate’s reply. It was a deep laugh with a hint of badness in it, and coupled with the cramped quarters of his Jeep, Kate was very aware of the proximity of his body to hers. He smelled good, too, but she stopped short of asking him the name of his cologne. And now she couldn’t stop picturing herself in the tent with him. Kate complained about Amanda while Andy drove. She knew she was talking fast and loose about nothing, but besides trying to get her mind off her palpable attraction to the man, she was still extremely nervous whenever she was in a car, and she was trying not to grab the side of her door, or “air” brake. People tended not to like it when you did things like that.

  Kate made sure to get back in a car shortly after the accident—otherwise she probably would have stayed away from them forever. But then “it” would have won, whatever “it” was. A nameless, faceless enemy called Fate. Still, she couldn’t say she enjoyed riding in a car, and she was relieved when Andy pulled into the marina.

  They took their time walking to the boats, neither in any hurry to leave the other. While Kate tried to shove lurid thoughts of the brooding artist out of her mind, Andy removed a deck of cards from his pocket and flipped them up in the air one-handed. They spurted up and folded under like a pop-up book of the Gateway Arch. What was he, some kind of shark? Kate wondered if that was how he made his money. Maybe Amanda was right. Maybe he was a player, a con artist.

  “You play poker?” Andy asked. His tone was casual. Was this how he roped in his victims? Invited them to a friendly game and then sucked them dry? When she caught Andy’s friendly gaze, she felt guilty. She was becoming as cynical as Amanda. Why was she being so hard on him? She knew the answer: it was because she’d been so attracted to him, she couldn’t help but size him up as a possible mate. But he wasn’t. He was just some guy on a summer vacation. She’d had true love once in her life; that was all she was ever going to get. That was the sad but obvious truth.

  “I know how to play,” Kate said. “But I’m not a shark or anything.” Now why did she say that? Was she testing him? Andy laughed again. He had a sense of humor, she’d give him that.

  “Me neither,” he said, sending the cards into the air again. “I’ve just got a little game going a few evenings a week on the She-Devil.”

  “she-devil?”

  “Oh, it’s just a boat.”

  “Ah.”

  “That’s why I offered to walk you—I was going the same way anyway.”

  “I see.” Did he have to go out of his way to let her know he didn’t really want to be with her? She was back to being suspicious and cynical; she couldn’t help it. He had a cottage and a boat? It was probably just a little sailboat, but still. The thought rolled around her head and then, to Kate’s surprise, rolled right out of her mouth as well.

  “You have a cottage and a boat?” she heard herself say.

  “I’m lucky,” Andy answered. “I’ve made some good investments over the years.”

  “Oh,” Kate said, thinking of his photographs. Were those part of his “investments”? If so, why was he hiding them away? She didn’t ask him to clarify, and he didn’t do it voluntarily. “If I had that place, I’d be here all the time,” Kate said of the cottage.

  They had reached the docks. Sailboats and yachts bobbed at anchor, and they could hear voices filtering through the dusk. People were out on their decks with food and drinks, waiting to toast the sunset. Several dogs romped about, all shapes and sizes, groomed to the hilt as if they’d just come from a dog show. Their bejeweled collars glittered in the dregs of the sun. The sky was a jaw-dropping shade of pink with a streak of dark red filtering through, topped off by a faint purple line. The tangy smell of barbeque mixed with the scent of the ocean, and waves lapped rhythmically against the side of boats large and small. It was the large yacht front and center that made Kate stop dead. It loomed over the other yachts like a lifeguard on the beach. “She-Devil” was painted on the side. Just a boat her ass.

  “Darling!” a woman on the dock yelled. “Come back to Mommy.” Andy laughed at the look on Kate’s face.

  “I think she’s talking to him,” he said, pointing at the Standard white poodle running by.

  “Oh,” Kate said, wondering if Andy was going to make any apologies or explanations for his monster of a boat.

  “You’re going to the sailboat over there,” Andy said, pointing down the dock. “The Bookworm,” he added, his breath brushing against her ear. Kate felt a stab of disappointment. He wasn’t going to be her summer fling after all. He would think she was after him for his money, which, apparently, he had loads of. She’d never been a gold digger, not remotely, and she wasn’t going to be thought of as one, either. It was ironic, probably the first time Andy Beck had ever been turned down because of his money. Too bad she couldn’t share this little tidbit with him.

  “Thanks,” she said, heading off in the direction of the Bookworm.

  “Hey,” he said. “Why don’t you come to the She-Devil when you’re done? I’ll give you the tour, and maybe even let you in on the game.”

  “No, thanks,” Kate said without even turning back to look at him. “I don’t play your type of games.”

  “Hey,” he said. She stopped but barely turned around, and when she did, she was looking everywhere but directly at him. “Seriously. Come by when you’re done. I don’t think it’s safe to walk home alone.”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  “I meant me.”

  “You drove here.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll be all liquored up and probably losing my shirt in there. And I don’t drive drunk, so I’ll have to walk home. I’ll need your protection and company for the sojourn back to my little tent.” Kate turned and walked away again, but she’d at least broken into a little smile. She couldn’t help it. She was definitely hoping he would lose his shirt.

  Chapter Six

  Andy knocked on the table, and the dealer dealt the flop. He normally loved these nights playing Texas hold ’em with the guys. But tonight he was definitely off his game. I don’t play your type of games. What did she mean by that? Obviously it was a dig, so what type of “games” was she referring to? She’d turned cold since she’d spotted the She-Devil. Although she’d given him a smile in the end. Would she stop by when she was done with the sail? He really didn’t want her walking home alone. He had binoculars somewhere; he was going to have to see if he could sneak out on dec
k with them and keep an eye on her. What was her sudden problem with him anyway?

  Yes, he was angry with her when they’d first met, but as far as he could tell, she’d kept her word and hadn’t said a thing about his photographs to anyone. Andy was sure Pete would have mentioned it if he’d heard about them. So, giving her the benefit of the doubt, she’d kept quiet. Which meant she had integrity. Some men were breast men, others leg men, but Andy’s aphrodisiac was a girl who could keep her word. Now, that was sexy. Not that she didn’t have the other aforementioned attributes as well—along with gorgeous eyes—but he wouldn’t have looked at her twice if she were a gossip. But of course now that he was willing to give her a chance, she was the one who seemed to be cooling off.

  Was she against yachts? If she’d allowed him to give her the tour, she would see the She-Devil was made out of recycled materials and used energy-saving lightbulbs. Not to mention she wasn’t really his boat, just like the cottage wasn’t really his, but that was another story. One he was never going to get into with Kate Williams. Not that he was ashamed of being a starving artist. His happiest moments had been behind the lens of a camera. The things he captured were the things money couldn’t buy. Sunsets. The ocean. The silhouette of a beautiful woman. That was another thing. Why was Kate always wearing long sleeves? For some reason, it made him want to see her arms even more. He chuckled to himself; he’d never imagined a scenario where, if he had a choice, he’d rather see a girl pull up her sleeves than anything else. What was this woman doing to him?

  “Earth to Andy,” one of the guys said. “Are you in or what?” Andy glanced at the cards on the table and increased his bet. What games was she talking about? And if she didn’t like him now, what were the chances she was ever going to look at him again after spending time with Tony and his son, Mark? Tony was a good guy, but Mark was a complete jerk. He would probably be all over Kate, too. Hell, he was probably the one who invited her “sailing.” In the old days he would have grilled Pete about Kate. He couldn’t get the image of her sprawled out on his bed out of his mind. But he hadn’t said a word to Pete about Kate; he didn’t want anyone to know he was even thinking about her that way. His last romance had been way too public, way too dramatic.

  What was he thinking? He couldn’t get involved again. But there was one thing he knew for sure as he threw his cards down and watched the fallen faces of his friends as they took in his straight; he was definitely going to see what she was hiding behind those long sleeves. It was that obsessive thought and too many drinks that made him start talking about Kate out loud, which led to him doing something really stupid, something he regretted the minute he accepted it. People should not only hedge their bets, they should know when to turn them down as well.

  Chapter Seven

  “Kate. Great to see you again. Look at you! You look great.” Tony grabbed her in a bear hug. “This is my son, Mark,” he said when he finally let her go.

  “Hello,” Kate said, extending her hand to Mark. Mark smiled, revealing teeth that were large and slightly protruding but a perfect fit for his moon-shaped face. He had spiky blond hair of the sort typically found on a teenage boy, but the beer belly of an old-timer. Based on the lines on his face, Kate pegged him to be in his early forties, but it could just be that his Coke-bottle glasses were throwing her off, making him appear older than he actually was. The way he was staring at her without speaking made her feel like a very small bug in a very large jar.

  “Who was that you were with?” Tony boomed. They were standing on the deck of a tiny sailboat. It couldn’t have been more than a fourteen footer; even the twenty-four footer next to it dwarfed the vessel. Kate ignored the question and looked around to see who else had been invited, fearing just one more person would sink them. But nobody else was in sight.

  “Am I too early?” Kate asked. Mark looked at his watch and appeared to be taking the question very seriously.

  “Not at all,” Tony said. “Punctuality is an admirable quality in a woman. Right, Mark?” Mark stared at Kate again.

  “I think it is,” he said. “I think it is.” From their tone, it was as if the two men were discussing a much more sinister topic.

  Do you think she could be a danger to herself and others?

  I think she could. I think she could.

  Where were the others?

  “How many people are coming?” Kate asked, once again wondering how much weight the little sailboat could hold. She was happy she’d eaten a light lunch.

  “We’re all here,” Tony said with a wink. Kate did her best to manufacture a smile, all the while feeling as if she’d been ordered to walk the plank.

  “Oh?” she said. “Just the three of us.” You said party! This is not a party. This is a setup. I’m being set up. Am I going to take this? Run. Run now. Tell them you’re sick. Amanda’s sick. She just texted you. You thought you saw a shark.

  “Yep,” Tony said. “Just us sea chickens!”

  “Why?” Mark asked. “Did you want to invite your boyfriend? Andy Beck?” He punctured Andy’s name like a fencer lunging forward for a final thrust of his sword. He looked at his dad and winked.

  “Mark,” Tony said.

  “Andy’s not my boyfriend,” Kate said. Now why did I say that? That was my chance!

  “Did you hear that, Mark?” Tony said. “He’s not her boyfriend.” They were reciting lines like soap-opera actors dumbing down the plot for a long-lost audience.

  “Man friend?” Mark asked. “At our age, we should probably say ‘man’ friend. Don’t you think, Kate?”

  Sometimes I don’t think at all. Like right now my mind is a horrified blank.

  Mark stuck his hands in his pockets and tucked his chin to his chest. His glasses slid down his nose. “Let’s get her out on the water before it gets too dark,” Tony said.

  “You should stay away from Andy Beck,” Mark said. Kate didn’t respond. “He’s a shyster,” Mark continued. “We’d like to kill him.” It was the first time Mark had raised his voice above a whisper; he was practically yelling.

  “Mark,” Tony admonished, looking down the dock. “People’s dogs are sleeping.”

  “But we do hate him,” Mark said.

  Tony held up his index finger and thumb in the form of a pinch. “Just a smidge,” he admitted.

  Kate tried to stare through the line of boats and catch a glimpse of the She-Devil. She thought she could even hear Andy laughing. She knew absolutely nothing about him. Rich man? Troubled photographer? Playboy? Now “shyster.” The thought of meeting up with him tonight was consuming her. Would she? She tried to push the question away as the little boat pushed out from the dock, gently rocking from side to side.

  The boat may have been small, but she could really sail. Father and son handled her effortlessly, and despite Mark hovering around like an alien craft, Kate was enjoying herself. There was a gentle wind, but strong enough to pick up the sails of the little boat and glide them across the water. Kate realized as she took in the magnitude of the ocean, and the beauty of the sleepy little community now disappearing into the distance, how lucky she was to be spending a month on the island. And she wouldn’t let anyone take that away from her. She was in control of her happiness. She would do her best-friend duty when it came to Amanda, but the rest of the time here she would spend going for long walks on the beach, reading good books, and drinking wine on the dock.

  Thoughts of spending time on the island brought Andy’s photographs to mind. The woman had been stunningly beautiful, and the way they were shot made her look almost spectral, with her white dress billowing in the wind, her hair blowing around her face. She was so sexy. Was he madly in love with her? What a stupid question. Of course he was.

  “What are you thinking about?” Mark asked as Tony disappeared into what Kate could only assume was a tiny hole for a cabin. Kate laughed, embarrassed Mark had caught her thinking such silly thoughts. So what if Andy had been in love with her? That was probably what made the pictur
es so outstanding. Why had he never published the book? Romance be damned; if Kate did nothing else with her month on the island, she was going to get to the bottom of that question. Maybe she should broach the subject of Andy with Mark. She decided to warm up to it by chatting with him about his work first.

  “So what do you do, Mark?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Kate looked out the side of the boat, half expecting a giant camera crew to pop up through the waves and end her misery by announcing she was on Candid Camera. “I’m sorry,” Mark said. “Everyone on the island knows what I do.”

  “Well, I’m not a native, you see,” Kate said. Mark removed an object from his pocket and threw it at her. Kate automatically reached for it, but the flashlight hit her in the stomach as she grabbed it.

  “Shine it on me,” Mark said. Kate accidentally aimed it directly at Mark’s eyes. “Ow, ow,” he said, shielding them with his hand.

  “Whoops,” Kate said, bringing the flashlight down a tad and smiling in the safety of the dark. Mark unzipped his coat and held the flaps open. It took Kate a few minutes of finagling with the flashlight to see his T-shirt. On it a giant cockroach was being strangled by a mouse who was in turn being choked by a human hand. The word CROAK! was splashed across the top in large red letters.

  “I’m the island exterminator,” Mark announced proudly. “My motto? ‘We can’t kill just one.’”

  “Oh,” Kate said.

  “You know. Like potato chips—you can’t eat just one.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And you know for every cockroach you see, there are at least a thousand more in hiding.”