Trapped in Tourist Town

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Trapped in Tourist Town Page 5

by Jennifer DeCuir


  But she didn’t get to deliver it.

  Burke suddenly leaned in, his sweet, warm mouth covering hers. The kiss was tentative, as if he expected her to push him away or slap him.

  The hell with that.

  Cady grabbed him by the shirtfront and nearly hauled him into the passenger seat with her. The taste of beer still on his lips, the woodsy scent of his heated skin, was driving her crazy. It was a damn good thing the good folks of Scallop Shores were snoozing in their beds at this hour. Because any onlookers would be getting quite a show.

  She sucked on his bottom lip, and his hand started searching out bare skin beneath her shirt when a sudden caterwauling from the Dumpster a few feet away had them jumping apart. Damned cats!

  Burke blinked at her, looking dazed, and she was selfishly glad he seemed as rocked by their kiss as she felt. For a second, she wished she were the type of girl to invite a man she barely knew back up to her apartment. But she wasn’t. She’d have to settle for getting to know him much better—and then inviting him upstairs. Because after experiencing the way that man kissed, Cady could only imagine what he could do in a bed.

  • • •

  Eight hours later and Burke still could not get the taste of her off his tongue. Nor did he want to. Which is why he’d abandoned his fruitless attempt at sleep and had joined the birds and the scampering chipmunks at oh-my-God o’clock, lugging his laptop out to the back deck to settle in and watch the sunrise. Snatching up an insulated travel mug from the wide arm of his Adirondack chair, Burke took a big sip. His eyes watered when the scalding liquid blazed a path down his throat. Wow. There was more than one way for coffee to wake a body up. He rested his head against the back of his seat and took another tentative swallow. Much better.

  He opened his laptop, slipping in the memory card from his camera, and uploading the photos he’d taken on their outing yesterday. Cady on the suspension bridge, the sunlight pulling out all different shades of blonde in her playful braids. A group shot of Cady with a bunch of gruff lobstermen. Her eyes had danced with merriment as she made bunny ears behind their heads. Cady holding up a wriggling, mottled lobster, stacks of lobster traps piled behind her.

  The women he knew in New York would be horrified to get anywhere near a live lobster, much less actually hold one in their hands. Cady lifted hers like a prize trophy, her grin nearly as large as the crustacean she gripped proudly. Burke had nearly squealed like a girl when she tried to hand it off to him. Okay, so he was more like the women in the city than the men in Scallop Shores. He needed to work on that.

  Balancing the laptop on his knees, Burke flipped open a steno and tried to come up with a comprehensive series. What would his readers like to learn about this hidden gem of a town? He chuckled to himself. Where had that come from, “hidden gem”? He was supposed to be here under duress. He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying himself.

  He’d actually found himself disappointed when Cady’s car had crapped out on them, dumping them on a curvy, narrow lane, just minutes from the famed lighthouse. He’d seen tons of photos but the idea of seeing it in person suddenly held an odd appeal. Maybe he would take her back there today, in his much more reliable car.

  But first on the agenda today, he’d let himself be talked into clothes shopping. God, there was another thing he couldn’t believe he was looking forward to. When Cady had learned that he’d never owned a pair of jeans, she’d made it her mission to outfit him, the better to keep from standing out in town. He shouldn’t care what people thought. Let them stare. Only he found himself wanting to blend in, to be accepted.

  Besides, denim was soft and comfortable. Everyone looked good in it. Especially bubbly little blondes. Burke shifted in the Adirondack, trying to focus on the task at hand. Cady in the photos. Cady in his brain. If it wouldn’t complicate things all to hell, he’d just take her to bed and be done with it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex. That was all this was. A raging case of blue balls.

  Maybe he could talk her into a quickie in the changing room, wherever they ended up shopping? A frown slowly pulled Burke’s face into a dark scowl. Cady was a good girl. She had principles. She wasn’t the type a guy took advantage of just because he was horny.

  Great. He’d just spent a sleepless night replaying their kiss over and over. Now he was trying to figure out the best place for a clandestine rendezvous. She was a small-town girl, an innocent looking for fun and excitement in the city. He was a jaded jerk, who was used to getting whatever he wanted—and discarding it when he got bored. Money did that to a person. He was a shark. Cady would do well to steer clear of him.

  The sharp trill of his cell phone sounded from his pants pocket. Who the hell would call at, what time was it? Six a.m. Who called people at six a.m.? Checking the screen, he snorted. His mother. He’d lay odds she was in Europe again and hadn’t even bothered to take the time difference into account. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he let it go to voicemail. No, thank you.

  Burke closed the laptop and concentrated on the small amount of coffee he had left. It was profoundly quiet out here. Just a few days ago, this would have sent him into a panic attack. He needed chaos, cacophony—or at least, he thought he did. Now, staring off into a row of thick pines, he was stunned to find that the lack of hustle and bustle on his current assignment was actually relaxing. His eyes widened as he spied a small brown bunny nibbling at a clump of clover just feet from where he was sitting. Okay, so make that relaxed and charmed.

  Gathering his things as slowly as possible so as not to disturb his new little woodland friend, Burke headed in to take a shower. An undisciplined writer was an out-of-work writer and he had a series of articles to shape. It was time to get focused.

  The cottage’s shower could barely manage tepid water at the best of times, so today’s chilly dribble was not altogether unexpected. And it worked to chase the fuzziness from his brain and tamp down the hormones raging through his body.

  Re-energized, he settled at his desk, glanced longingly at the ocean view from his window and flipped up the screen on his laptop to get to work. He checked his email first, to see if there was anything from Meredith, his editor. This assignment being her baby, she was a lot more involved in the day-to-day than he was used to.

  Just an email from his mother. God, the woman didn’t quit! Ah, crap. The subject line read “Your father.” Had something happened and she called to let him know? And he’d just blown her off. Way to go, jerk! Burke tapped the mouse to open the missive.

  “I know very well you were awake, just now, when I called. Must we play these games, Burke? Honestly, sometimes you still act like a small child.”

  Really? Something was wrong with his father and she was taking the time to scold him? If he could flip off the computer screen with any hope of the gesture reaching his mother’s shocked face, he would. Well, okay, he wouldn’t, but he’d want to.

  “As you are aware, we have been most indulgent of your little writing hobby. You have had yourself numerous adventures all over the world. Hurrah for you, darling. However, you are nearly thirty years old and it is time for you to become a responsible adult. Enough of this globetrotting nonsense. It is time for you to take your position as head of the company.”

  Burke felt his stomach fall, down, down, hurtling into a chasm with no bottom.

  “Your father has announced to the board that he will retire, effective this September. We need you to come back immediately, so that he can sit down with you and explain your duties.”

  Aw, hell no!

  “I am certain whatever assignment you are working on can be passed along to the next available writer. If there are any exceptionally ruffled feathers, let your father or I know and we can send a check. Money talks, dearest, especially when your little publication is far from being Condé Nast.”

  Burke pried his fingers from the mouse he couldn’t do without, even with a laptop, before he accidentally crushed it. Little publication, indeed!

/>   “Your father will be expecting you within the week. Unfortunately, I will not see you until the week after, or possibly later. Make us proud, son.”

  And it ended just like that. No “I love you,” or “Miss you lots.” Not from Evangeline Sanders, wife of Prescott Sanders, CEO and owner of one of the largest luxury hotel chains in the world. They thought he’d just drop what he was doing and go home like a good little boy? Burke’s parents were about to become very disappointed.

  Chapter 6

  It was just a minor setback. If you want something badly enough, you have to be willing to accept that sometimes you have to take a few steps back when you’re eager to move forward. Blah blah blah. Platitudes were not going to turn Cady’s mood around. She’d had to say goodbye to Lucille this morning, boxing up her personal effects and leaving her precious car in a scrap yard.

  Okay, so it wasn’t like she was emotionally attached to her car. It got her from point A to point B, or at least it had until it bit the dust on the way up to the lighthouse. The car hadn’t provided her with any truly memorable experiences. She had run over a skunk (already dead) on her inaugural drive. Every time it rained over the following year, Lucille had reeked with the smell of skunk. Cady had lost her muffler flying over potholes out on Bartlett Road. You couldn’t really catch air on those potholes unless you were breaking the speed limit by at least twenty miles per hour. This memory finally put a grin on her face.

  In need of transportation, her dad had taken her to pick out a used car from Sergeant Gerry, Chase’s boss, who bought and sold vehicles impounded by the town. They’d both tried to talk her into something compact and girly. But Cady had spotted a gray beater pick-up and she knew it had to be hers. Her dad had groused that it wouldn’t be fair if she got a truck before he did. Pulling him aside, she promised to take him to McCloskey’s field after the next good rain and they could take turns doing doughnuts. He’d promptly told the Sergeant that Cady was buying the truck.

  After dropping her dad off at home, Cady drove next door to Chase’s and Amanda’s house. Sitting in the truck for a minute, she looked to her right. Her parents’ white raised ranch was just visible through a stand of birch trees. On the same plot of land, Chase had designed a log home for Amanda, based on pictures she had kept in a scrapbook. It really was stunning. To Cady’s left was an acre of forest just waiting for the day she and her future husband would break ground on their dream home. Or at least, that was the plan according to her parents, back when they had bought enough land to share with their children.

  Cady felt a twinge of guilt, like she was breaking up a matched set. Oh, that was ridiculous! She shoved open the door of her new-to-her truck then slammed it for good measure.

  “Hey, anyone home?”

  A mouthwatering aroma led Cady straight into the kitchen, where she found Amanda stirring a giant stockpot on the stove. She took the offered spoon and sampled the beef stew. Closing her eyes, Cady savored the flavor of the thick broth, softened vegetables, and melt-in-your-mouth beef. The bitter tang of turnip tasted so much better in this mixture than it did when her mom mashed it up for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

  “Doesn’t that just hit the spot? It looked like it was going to rain this morning, so I thought it would be the perfect time to make one last batch of beef stew.”

  “Only you’ve made enough for an army, Amanda.”

  “What we don’t eat today, and you’re invited for dinner, by the way, I’ll freeze in a few containers. Then when the baby comes we’ll have something easy to heat up and eat.”

  “Yeah, I suppose even Chase couldn’t screw that up.” Cady winked.

  She helped herself to a bowl from the cupboard beside the sink and spooned a serving of stew into it. With any luck, she’d be out with Burke at dinnertime, so she’d have to snag some right now. Amanda was right. It may be spring, but Mother Nature hadn’t made New Englanders tough for nothing. It was downright chilly out today. Cady tucked into the warm meal.

  “Can I help you with anything today?” she asked between bites.

  “I thought you were supposed to be helping out Burke with his magazine articles.”

  “He’s writing right now. We’ll meet up later.” Somehow the fact that they weren’t meeting up to work on the travel articles, but to shop for jeans, felt too private to share. Even with her best friend.

  She hadn’t seen him since he’d dropped her off after that kiss. Cady’s eyes drifted closed as she remembered the heat of it, and the most embarrassing groan rumbled out of her throat.

  She coughed, scraping the last bite of stew from her bowl and swallowing quickly. She took the bowl to the sink, rinsing it out and placing it inside the dishwasher.

  “I’ve got a couple of hours to kill. I could do some heavy lifting, or scrub some floors. What do you say?”

  When Amanda didn’t respond, Cady turned around. Her best friend stood in the middle of the kitchen. She wore an apron stretched taut across her growing belly and she pulled up a corner of the fabric, twisting it tightly. A single tear rolled slowly down her cheek. She looked scared to death.

  “Sweetheart, what’s the matter? Are you in pain? Should I call Chase? Come sit down.”

  Cady wrapped the young woman in her arms, guiding her through the kitchen and into the living room. She helped her friend to the couch and positioned the ottoman to support her feet. By the time she had her comfortable, the poor pregnant woman was sobbing.

  “Damned hormones,” Amanda sniveled.

  Looking around desperately, Cady snatched a box of tissues from a side table and shoved it in Amanda’s lap. She waited for the tears to subside, still unsure whether she should be worried or not. She debated calling Chase to let him know his wife was having a meltdown. She wasn’t used to being around pregnant women and didn’t know when to raise the alarm. Eventually Amanda’s sobbing dwindled to nose-blowing and quiet sniffling.

  “Has the crisis passed?” Her voice was gentle, her expression concerned.

  “I’m so sorry. I hate acting so foolishly in front of you, Cady. This is so embarrassing.”

  “Hey, it’s me, remember? I’m here for you, honey.”

  “But that’s just it. You’re leaving. I’m going through one of the biggest moments of my life. I am completely freaking out about what to expect ... and you’re going to leave me.” Amanda shook her head like she was disgusted with herself.

  “Sweetie, you are going to have that baby long before I leave. You know I’ll be right by your side the minute you go into labor, Chase and I both.” Her words didn’t seem to have the calming effect she’d intended.

  “What about after? What happens when the baby is sick and I get worried? What about when I start talking baby babble and no sane adult can understand me anymore? Who’s going to remind me to put on my makeup and comb my hair? How are we going to have our girls’ nights?”

  Amanda gripped both of Cady’s hands tightly in hers.

  “I’m scared. You are my anchor, my link to everything that came before motherhood. When you leave, I worry that I’m going to drown. I need you here, Cady. As horribly immature and selfish as that sounds, I need you here.”

  Once again, Amanda dissolved into tears, turning to bury her face against the couch cushion. Cady rubbed her friend’s back, trying to keep from crying herself. They had talked about this since they were kids. Amanda knew she wanted to leave.

  This was emotional blackmail! The whole town represented a support network that would be more than happy to help the new mom. Cady was only one person. Surely her presence wasn’t that important. She bit her tongue, telling herself that pregnancy did strange things to a woman’s emotions.

  Chase had complained to her just last month, that his wife had totally flipped out when he brought home the wrong flavor of ice cream. He wouldn’t have minded the tirade, except that it had been the right flavor, and his reason for running to the store just a short twenty minutes before. At the time, Cady had found the story amus
ing. She’d reminded her brother that it took two people to make a baby and that his part was infinitely easier.

  Realizing that this was one of those moments when she would have to set her own feelings aside, Cady rose to make them both some tea. By the time she brought the mugs into the living room, Amanda’s hysterics were through. She waited quietly on the couch, massaging the bump in her belly, as Cady added sugar and cream to one mug and then handed it to her friend. They sat in silence for a few moments.

  “It just never seemed as real before as it does now—you moving to the city, that is.”

  “What makes now different than any other time?” Cady settled cross-legged in a corner of the couch and sipped her tea.

  “I’m not sure. It’s something in your eyes, in your face. It’s like this powerful determination, like nothing is going to get in your way.”

  Except having to shell out 5k of my hard-earned Get Out Of Dodge savings on a new-ish pickup truck, Cady thought.

  Cady wished that her best friend, her confidante since kindergarten, could understand the excitement she felt when contemplating a new life in the city. The thrill of a fresh start. The new experiences that would start the very second she drove over the town line.

  Burke would understand. He’d been there. She needed to see him. Their kiss, that delicious kiss, had been interrupted by a couple of stray cats fighting for dominance over the Dumpster. It had made a lovely evening a tad awkward. He’d had enough writing time. He’d earned a break. Maybe she’d drop by.

  Heat spread up her neck and across her cheeks as she thought of the brief time she’d spent in Burke’s rented cottage, the big cozy bed taking up most of the bedroom. Yeah, it was probably best that she stick to a phone call. It was becoming difficult to remember theirs was a working relationship.

 

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