by Hope Navarre
He turned off the computer, pushed back his chair. “Are you flirting with me again, Nurse Michaels?”
She rolled her eyes. Damn. She stepped over the line with that one. “Sorry. My bad.”
He laughed. When he stood and she had to lift her head to look into his eyes, she’d never felt more vulnerable for a kiss before in her life. Instead of even making the moment possible, she reached for their coffees from the table and handed Peter his. “Let’s get going. I want to show you the lighthouse.”
CHAPTER SIX
IN THE SHORT fifteen-minute ride to the lighthouse, Peter was convinced he had made the right decision in asking Cassie to show him around. And conversant? There had been no loss for conversation between them from the moment they had gotten into the Jeep. It was as if the whole world stopped and only the two of them existed. She looked hot in her jeans and tight, embroidered shirt topped with a pink hoodie that hugged her curves just right. He couldn’t help but wonder what she had on underneath it all, then chided himself. She’d specifically asked him to slow down.
The urge to kiss her hadn’t lessened since they’d both admitted to flirting and decided to start again more civilly. That handshake had been more like a dare to not flirt anymore. He saw it in her eyes when she had walked up to his house. She liked what she saw in him, and nothing encouraged him more. He’d go slowly, but the more time he spent with her, the more she intrigued him. He still saw keeper written all over her.
Now she was describing her version of the emergency room dynamics of their coworkers, putting a positive spin on potentially negative behaviors. Peter liked watching Cassie’s animation as she spoke. Her readiness to laugh or listen. Oh, yes. He wanted to know everything about her as fast as he could.
“So, what you’re saying is that Rachel’s sisterly concern for everyone is really her way of being nosy?”
Cassie looked at him as if shocked before melting into laughter. “Rachel means well. But given how Doc feels about coworkers dating, you can be sure that I won’t be telling her about the time we spend together today. She’ll read all sorts of innuendos into it.”
Amazing. She willingly spoke about the possibilities between them out loud in the way he was hoping they’d go. “Wow. I like that you think this is a date.”
“Easy does it, Peter. This is not a date. I’m showing you around the sights so you can get your bearings and see what’s so wonderful about Montauk.” She wheeled into the parking lot below the lighthouse.
He hadn’t missed her comment about Doc. That explained the raised brow when Peter first stopped in at the hospital to see Cassie. “So, Doc doesn’t like his employees to date?”
She winced. “Will you think less of me if I say he made that rule because an intern he really valued quit when we broke up?”
He laughed. “Do I need to worry about you?”
Concern filled her face. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not promiscuous or anything.”
He liked that she was backpedaling. “But our boss made a rule against dating based on you.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Not at all.”
She focused on steering the Jeep through the parking lot, a stain of a blush rising on her cheeks. “That intern was a mistake. And the only employee I ever dated. I don’t date much anymore.”
“Why not?”
She slowed down to take a turn. “It’s complicated.”
“Did somebody break your heart?”
When she didn’t respond, Peter said, “More silence. You are now a mysterious woman.”
She waved a hand. “The chemistry hasn’t been there. I shouldn’t have dated the few guys I have because I knew from the start it wouldn’t work.”
“Do you feel that way about me?”
She started to speak then hesitated.
“What, Cassie?”
“I feel chemistry here. It’s exciting but scaring the heck out of me.”
Yes! She admitted it. He had to speak his mind. “I am unbelievably attracted to you, Cassie.”
Her voice became softer. “I am not ready to get involved again.”
“How do you know I won’t be different?”
Her lips pressed together. “I don’t.”
She pulled abruptly into a parking space. Put the Jeep in Park. The air between them was charged enough to light a city. She’d spoken her mind; he’d follow suit. He couldn’t help himself.
She turned off the engine. Her gaze slid from his face to the lighthouse in the distance behind him. More than anything, he wanted her to look at him again. “Are you okay, Cassie?”
She slid on a pair of aviator sunglasses. “How about we get out and walk?”
* * *
CASSIE INSISTED ON paying for their admission tickets. He promised to buy lunch in return. As they made their way to the path, Peter was tempted to slip his hand around Cassie’s, but she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, as if she needed to regain her equilibrium. Peter knew just how she felt. He’d give her space. For now. If she felt the pull of attraction between them the way he did, instinct told him she might be skittish. He loved the idea of earning her trust enough to make her his.
She looked up at him. “So was it weird driving across the country alone?”
Small talk. Good idea. He shrugged. “Not really. Lonely mostly. My brother and I spoke a lot along the way.” He shot her a grin. “I was talking with him on the phone when I saw you on your bike.”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “What did you say about me?”
“That I had to stop talking because I couldn’t do three things at once.”
“Three things?”
He tapped a finger for each item. “Drive. Talk to him. Watch you. And not necessarily in that order.”
She laughed. “Well, given the way you drove, clearly you were distracted by something.”
“I can guarantee you it wasn’t the phone conversation.”
She blushed behind her sunglasses. He liked that.
They reached the base of the hill where the white lighthouse with the brown strip stood behind a two-story colonial house. A smaller building and a radio tower completed the compound.
Cassie said, “Did you know that the Montauk lighthouse was the first one built in America? It was commissioned by the second congress when George Washington was president in 1796.”
“I know I’ve said it before, but you make a wonderful tour guide.”
“I really should have brought you here at dawn.” She smiled. “People come from all over Long Island to make the sunrise pilgrimage.”
“Then we have an excuse for another excursion.”
She dipped her head and looked at him shyly. “I can honestly say I like that idea.”
She’d pulled her hands from her hoodie when they started the trek up to the lighthouse, and Peter took the opportunity to grab her right hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, if only briefly. “I just want to say I’d love to date you, but I’m happy simply spending time with you.”
She squeezed his hand before releasing it. “Thank you. I appreciate that more than you know.”
He pointed to a sculpture that came into view behind the lighthouse. “What’s that?”
Cassie glanced in the direction he pointed. Did the color just drain from her face? Her voice grew quiet. “That’s the Fisherman’s Memorial.”
She swiped loosened tendrils of hair from her cheek, then shoved her hands back into the pockets of her hoodie. It was subtle, but he definitely felt a shift of emotions in her from warm to cool.
She said, “Let’s go to the top of the lighthouse. Shall we?”
He let her lead him up the steps to the colonial. “Sounds perfect. I’ll follow you anywhere.”
* * *
CASSIE SUDDENLY HAD trouble catching a breath walking next to Peter. The cool breeze off the ocean sent a chill down her back. At first, she had loved when he had scooped up her hand, but the moment he asked about the monument, she’d felt like someone had hit her with a brick. What had she been thinking? She had made the worst mistake bringing Peter here. Caught up in the mindset of showing a visitor the local points of interest, she’d totally overlooked the emotional wallop she felt every time she saw the memorial. The lighthouse had been there forever, the memorial only recently. One glance at that fisherman and her blood ran cold. It was like flirting with a new boyfriend on her fiancé’s grave. With the heat of their discussion still ripe in her mind, this was the wrong place to be. She couldn’t just turn on her heels and demand they leave, though. Peter wouldn’t understand, and she wasn’t ready to explain. Climbing the one hundred and ten feet to the top of the lighthouse wouldn’t be far enough away from the memorial.
She handed their tickets to the woman inside the door. As they headed for the stairs, she said, “We’ll go up, then I’ll take you to Ditch Plains. I’m sure you’d like to see one of the surfing hot spots.”
An hour later, she steered her Jeep up the small street leading to the dunes. If Peter knew how uncomfortable she’d become, he didn’t show it. Now that they’d left the lighthouse, her calm had returned. When he reached for her hand as they walked to the beach, she let him. His solid grip felt warm, good. Right now she needed that. Being haunted by memories of the dead left her cold.
On this Saturday in spring, the beach that was usually packed in the summer months was empty except for a few surfers and beach walkers. Boulders and rocks littered the sand and the surf. Low tide was the worst for walking the beach. The tide was high at the moment, so waves washed pristine sand. The bluffs along the shore stretched as far as the eye could see. She zipped up her hoodie against the freshening breeze and pulled the hood on her head.
Peter wore a gray fleece hoodie of his own. She squeezed his hand in hers. “It’s cooler than I thought for a walk. You warm enough?” she asked him.
His eyes were nearly invisible beneath his sunglasses. His hair lifted in the drafts as he scanned the beach and the surf. His profile was simply beautiful. While beautiful wasn’t quite the right word choice to describe a man, it was the word that jumped into her head. Like a Michelangelo marble sculpture, his features seemed perfect. He smiled, and her knees trembled. “I’m so warm, I’m great,” he said.
She grinned in return. “I know.”
He raised a brow as if processing the meaning of her answer. He released her hand. “I’ll keep you warm, if you’re chilled.”
The part of her that wanted to let go of those pained memories and take a chance again on love wanted to say yes. The other half knew better. “It’s okay. We don’t have to walk. I wanted to show you this beach so you’d know how to get here.”
He stood beside her, elbow-to-elbow, amicably admiring the beautiful view. They watched the surf in silence, and her breath caught in her throat. She had to force herself to pull the freshening air into her lungs in slow even breaths. Here she stood on one of her most favorite spots in the entire world, next to a virtual stranger, and nothing felt more right. She’d taken her sandals off to walk the beach, and she dug her toes into the cool sand as if to root in the moment. Peter Chapman was as solid and real as a guy could get. It had been too long since a man had made her feel so comfortable, and she was grateful for these new emotions.
Peter said, “Those waves look awesome.”
“The surf is like this most of the time.”
He whistled softly. “They were good at Hither Hills, too. I’m going to love it here.”
His enthusiasm made her smile. “I’m sure Brian will take you around to a few secret spots, as well.”
“Excellent.” He turned her to face him. “Thanks for showing me the beach. How about some lunch?”
* * *
CASSIE SAT ACROSS from Peter in the seafood shack she’d chosen despite the urge she felt to take the seat directly next to him. What was it about Peter that had her thinking she’d like to be closer?
The only concession Peter made to their discussion about the possible chemistry between them was that he now smiled at her as if they shared a secret. Given the fact that she didn’t want to set any tongues wagging, she was glad a table filled the distance between them because she was beginning to like him more and more. And more.
“I’m embarrassed I mentioned the chemistry thing to you in one breath while telling you to back off in another,” she blurted.
His gaze shot to hers. “I’m not. Please do me the honor of ceasing such foolish thoughts. You didn’t tell me to leave you alone now, did you?”
She looked incredulous. “Ceasing?”
He grinned. “I think Shakespeare said that once.”
She laughed out loud as the waitress approached to take their orders. This guy was priceless.
A million questions circled her mind, and they were all about him. She was glad when their food arrived to distract her. Already impressed with him as a nurse, she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was an honest and trustworthy man, and from the few hints he’d given, she was curious as to what type of life he had left behind.
She popped a fried bay scallop into her mouth. “So, I told you that my mom is a nurse. My dad is a third-generation fisherman.”
Peter wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Did your mom work with Doc before you did?”
“Yes. She works in the community now. Troubled kids. Home-bound seniors.”
“She sounds like a caring woman.”
Cassie nodded. “She’s the one who taught me that helping others is its own reward.”
She didn’t want to say this to Peter, but despite her mother’s generous nature, Cassie suspected that her mother learned to find emotional satisfaction from people around her instead of relying on Dad. Her dad was gone at sea too much.
As if reading her thoughts, Peter broke the silence that had fallen between them. “Your dad must know the ocean pretty well.”
Like his father and his father before him, Bobby Michaels made his living from the surrounding waters and the canyon seventy miles offshore. “That’s an understatement. Dad is one of those men who can’t resist the sea. He’ll run the Lady Beth until he’s too old to climb over the transom. Salt water is in his blood.”
“He’s away a lot?”
“Oh, yeah. They venture out pretty far. Keeps them at sea for weeks sometimes.”
“How do you and your mother handle that?”
She shrugged. “We’re pretty self-reliant. We have great friends for support. My dad’s parents. My aunt and uncle, whom you met at the pancake house, live next door.” She smiled. “This is a fishing community. We work together to help each other out.”
“That’s terrific. My brother and I pretty much relied on each other our entire lives.”
While just the two of them sounded like a really small orbit to Cassie, if Peter knew nothing different, then he wasn’t missing anything. “That’s not bad. I’ll bet you two are close.” She tilted her head to get a good gauge on his next answer. “So, who did you leave behind in L.A.?”
He took a swallow of his cola. “Like a girlfriend?”
He’d already said he wasn’t dating. This morning, he’d mentioned his mother. So he was dodging her question. “You mentioned your brother. You have a mother. A father?”
He toyed with his glass. “Both parents are alive. They divorced when I was in sixth grade.”
“Ouch. Divorce is hard on everyone, especially kids.”
Peter met her gaze, his woodsy scent wafting across the table. She inhaled deeply, already intoxicated by his unique essence, and curious to know much more about him. The fact that
she had rescued him from an accident, was struck by his appearance without even hearing him first speak, then helped in caring for his wounds afforded her an intimacy with him of which Peter was pretty much unaware. Yet, as a nurse, he probably understood how her ministrations had increased her comfort level with him.
She’d seen his excellent abilities as a nurse, admired his bedside manner. But other than the few tidbits he’d shared, she knew he possessed a truck, three surfboards and a really hot body. His personal life was still a mystery. The pensive look on his face as he thought about his parents betrayed that he didn’t take issues lightly.
When he spoke, his voice was low. “My mother is mentally unstable, Cassie. I had to have her committed before I left Los Angeles.”
Holy smokes. “To a psychiatric institution?”
“Hard to say, but yes.”
She reached for her iced tea, needing to wash down the bit of French fry she suddenly had trouble swallowing. Her hand went to her throat. “Oh, my.”
Would she have the strength to commit a loved one? Folks rode out the storms of life in her town, doing what they had to do with family. Peter’s mother must have been pretty bad for him to take legal action. “That must have been terrible for you.”
He nodded. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” When his gaze met hers, guilt pooled in those dark eyes.
“Why did you have to commit her? What about your father?”
“My father hasn’t been in the picture at all, except for some monetary support. My mom’s brother is an attorney. He helped me get the job done.”
“Was she always unstable?”
He looked embarrassed. “Yes.”
“So, who took care of you and Gil after the divorce?”
He glanced at her as if surprised. “I did. My uncle was around when we needed him, but most of the daily responsibilities fell on me.”
She tried to swallow the knot rising in her throat again. Her life had been so normal. Granted, Dad was gone for weeks at a time, but the network of support she and her mother had woven was flawless. Friends and family supplied all of their emotional, and sometimes material, support throughout the years. She could not imagine a twelve-year-old boy fending for himself, let alone another sibling.