Mistletoe Bay

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Mistletoe Bay Page 17

by Marcia Evanick


  The next free moment she had, she was doing some major shopping and buying a lock for her bedroom door. She didn’t know who was worse, the boys spilling her one and only bottle of perfume tonight before she’d had a chance to put any on, or the animals. At least the boys didn’t chew her shoes, but her bedroom now reeked like a whorehouse.

  She had been left in the awkward situation of asking her mother-in-law if she could use some of her perfume. Although Dorothy had excellent taste in perfume, it wasn’t hers, but it beat Felicity’s odd assortment.

  “You don’t have to go straight home, do you?” Coop started to drive. “I wanted to show you something.”

  “Now that’s a loaded question if I ever heard one.” She chuckled at some of her thoughts.

  “Don’t tease, Jenni,” Coop groaned. “I’m trying to be on my best behavior tonight.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why, but she already knew the answer. Cooper Armstrong was trying to impress her, and she thought that was sweet. Of course, he didn’t need to make a good impression on her; she was already impressed. She had been in awe of him since he’d rescued Tucker off the porch roof and captured the iguana underneath the dinner table. “So what did you want to show me?”

  “Sunset Cove.” Coop drove out of the restaurant’s parking lot and headed out of town. “It’s the best place to go sledding for the boys, once we get a good pack of snow.”

  “That’s where Suicide Hill is, isn’t it?” She’d take the boys sledding, but there was no way she was tobogganing down that hill. “How come I’ve never heard of it before?”

  “It’s a town secret.” Coop clicked the heater on, now that the car was warmed up. “We don’t advertise it because of the tourists. It’s nice for the locals to have a place of their own. During the summer months it’s great for swimming and just bobbing around in a rowboat pretending to fish.”

  “Sounds nice.” Mistletoe Bay was far enough out of town that most of the tourists didn’t bother with it. “Doesn’t anyone live there?”

  “Sure, there’s a few houses, but there’s also a lot of open spaces. Teenagers use it as a hangout area, and the sheriff knows to patrol it regularly.”

  “So what you are telling me is that my sister-in-law and Sam have probably been there. Now there’s a thought that would give Dorothy more gray hair.”

  “Felicity seems to have her head on straight.” Coop chuckled as he made a left turn. “I think you should worry more about Eli taking Dorothy there.”

  “Eli does seem to enjoy flirting with her, doesn’t he?” She remembered the banter going on in the kitchen between the two when she and Coop had left for dinner. “He’s quite a few years younger, though.”

  “In case you didn’t notice, Jenni, Eli didn’t seem to care. I would say the man is smitten.”

  “Smitten.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “Now the question is, what’s he smitten about—Dorothy or her cooking? The man does like to eat.”

  “All men like to eat, Jenni.” Coop turned off the street and onto a gravel road. “I still can’t believe you hadn’t eaten at the Catch of the Day before tonight.”

  “I never had the opportunity before tonight. It’s not the kind of place one would take Tucker for a meal.” She glanced around as the cove came into view. The crisp, cold night air was clear and bright, allowing the nearly full moon to reflect off the still water of the cove. “This is beautiful.”

  At her house you couldn’t see the water of the bay from any first-floor window. A couple of the windows on the second floor allowed a few glimpses between the trees. It was Chase’s third-floor window that had a clear view. One of these days, when she had some extra money, she was going to hire a landscaper to thin out a lot of the branches to open up the view from the second floor, and possibly remove a few trees and bushes so they could all enjoy the view from the back family room.

  Coop stopped the SUV and turned off the headlights. “This is where everyone has picnics and swims in the summer. There’s a small sandy beach right at the water’s edge, and little kids can wade out pretty far before it drops off.”

  She could picture what it must look like during the summer months when the trees had leaves and the occasional flower dotted the underbrush. “I bet the water is still cold.”

  “Nicely chilled, but on hot summer days, it hits the spot.” Coop pointed off to the right. “Over there is a rope tied to that big tree leaning over the water. It’s the perfect Tarzan rope, and the water beneath it is deep enough that you don’t have to worry about banging your head on anything. Every spring the volunteer fire company holds a clean-up day out here. It’s more like a party, but they always put up a new rope for the kids and wade into the cove to remove anything hazardous they can find.” Coop turned back on the headlights and drove back out the gravel road back to the paved street. “It’s sorta like Misty Harbor’s unofficial park.”

  “Where’s the sledding?” She hadn’t see any hilly area that looked cleared enough to sled down.

  “I’ll show you. It’s at the farthest end of the cove.” Coop passed a couple of homes that backed right up to the water. “Everyone in town knows to drop off extra firewood, branches, and logs out at the hill. During the winter months they feed the fifty-five-gallon drums that keep everyone warm. A few of the local residents along here even keep the gas-powered generator filled. There’s a donation box up there to help cover the cost.”

  “Why do you need a generator?” She leaned forward and stared out into the darkness. The only thing she could see was the occasional house, and trees. The actual water of the cove was nowhere to be seen.

  “Someone strung a line of lightbulbs up there so you can see the course at night.”

  “Sounds nice.” She could tell they were heading up a hill. “Does the cove freeze during the winter? I haven’t been ice skating in years.”

  “No, but there’s Sarah’s Pond for that.” Coop glanced over at her. “Don’t tell me, you don’t know where that is either?”

  She shook her head. She would laugh, if it wasn’t so pathetic. Here she could have been taking the boys to Sunset Cove last summer, but she hadn’t even known it existed. Instead they had waded in the bay on those hot summer days. “I’m a lousy mother.”

  “You are not.” Coop pulled the SUV onto another gravel road that wound its way into the woods. “Why do you think that?”

  “I should have gone out exploring the town more. This is our home now.”

  “You never would have found the swimming beach or Suicide Hill by exploring, Jenni. They are pretty well hidden, as you can see.” Coop pulled to a stop in what seemed to be a big, clear parking lot filled with gravel and ruts. “We can’t get out and see everything with those”—he nodded to her high heels—“shoes on. You’ll break an ankle.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize hiking would be required.” She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned forward so she could see out the windshield better. “So this is Suicide Hill?” In the beam of the headlights she could see a clear area that went all the way down to the edge of the cove. The run didn’t look dangerous or steep, but having water at the end of the run didn’t seem like a smart idea to her. Tucker would take the frigid water as a challenge. “It doesn’t look bad, except for the stopping.”

  Coop chuckled as he unbuckled his seat belt. “There will be piles of hay bales and a snowbank so thick and high around the shoreline that no one would go into the water. It’s perfectly safe.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, I will go down Suicide Hill with you.” She’d sledded steeper runs by the time she was Chase’s age. At the edge of the light she could make out a couple of those fifty-five gallon drums Coop had told her about. They were well away from trees, and there were quite a few piles of wood laying around waiting for the first snowstorm.

  “You will?” Coop’s voice held laughter.

  “Sure.” She’d never figured Coop to be such a wuss when it came to tobogganing.

&
nbsp; “I’ll hold you to that.” Coop leaned forward and gave her a quick, teasing kiss. He pointed over her shoulder and out the passenger side window. “Suicide Hill starts up there”—his finger indicated the top of the small mountain next to them—“and ends down there.” His finger moved until it was pointing at an area of the cove that was far to the right of them.

  She frowned out the window. In the shadowy moonlight, all she could see were trees. “Where’s the run?”

  “On the other side of the trees. The run starts at the very top, and there’s at least two hairpin turns in it. Most beginners never make it past the first one.”

  “What stops them, the trees?” No wonder they called it Suicide Hill.

  “Sometimes, but usually fortified snow banks prevent any major injury.” Coop leaned in closer. “You don’t have to worry, though. I’d mastered the run by the time I was fifteen. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Coop’s voice held nothing but teasing and laughter.

  “You tricked me.” She nodded to the safe little hill in front of them. “So what’s that?”

  “The kiddie run.” Coop was still laughing when he kissed her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Coop started to unload the cart stacked with boxes. He might not be able to drive his truck to the door of Jenni’s shop, but he could push a dolly over the rough dirt path. He didn’t mind the extra work, and besides, he got to see Jenni. By next week, if they got the snow that was being forecast, he wouldn’t be able to use the dolly.

  Jennifer Wright was turning his world upside down. Three months ago he would have told anyone who would listen that that particular feat was impossible. One little five-foot-four-inch woman with the most delectable mouth had not only proven him wrong, but she had dropped him to his knees and he was about to cry “Uncle.”

  “Thanks, Coop. I appreciate the extra effort.” Jenni took the last box and sat it by the door. “One day when I become rich, I’ll have that driveway paved.”

  “How thankful?” Coop backed her up against the closed door and stared at her mouth. He couldn’t care less about the condition of her driveway. He had to rush through his morning deliveries and had cut his lunch short to make sure he made Mistletoe Bay Company’s stop before Felicity got home from school. As it was, he had about ten minutes alone with Jenni before they would be interrupted.

  Jenni’s smile was pure wickedness. “Gee, you want a tip or something?”

  He stepped closer without taking his gaze from her lips. “Or something.” He didn’t even want to think about how many company rules he was breaking right about now. He didn’t care about anything but kissing Jenni. His dreams last night had been hot, erotic, and entirely unsatisfactory. He wanted the real thing. He wanted Jenni.

  The tip of Jenni’s tongue slipped out from between her lips. With a slow and deliberate movement, she slowly ran it across her upper lip.

  A groan rumbled up his throat. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

  Jenni’s smile grew. “Of course.” Her thin arms wrapped around his neck as she stood on her tippy toes. “You’re too tall.”

  “You’re too short.” He brushed the side of her mouth as his hands spanned her waist. A woman with three children shouldn’t be this hot, be this desirable, or smell this tempting. Jenni smelled like sugar cookies warm from the oven. The fragrance alone was making his mouth water.

  “Five-four isn’t short.” Jenni’s moist lower lip pouted playfully as her fingertips teased the back of his neck and wove their way into his hair.

  He lightly nipped that lip. “Six-two isn’t tall.” Jenni’s fingers felt hot against his chilled neck.

  “Coop?” Jenni pressed herself against his chest, trying to get closer.

  “Hmmm . . . ?” He skimmed her jaw with tiny nibbles. Jenni Wright was like a fine wine; she needed to be savored, not gulped.

  Jenni turned her head and tried to capture his mouth. “Kiss me.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He finally did what he had been dying to do since saying goodnight to her last night. He kissed her.

  There was nothing sweet or slow about their kiss. They were beyond that point, but nowhere near where his body was craving to be. He wanted Jennifer Wright in his bed, naked and smiling. They were both too old to be playing this frustrating game of sneaking kisses when no one was looking. The Wright household had more eyes than a optometrists convention.

  Jenni lightly bit his lip and moaned.

  The woman was playing with fire, and she knew it. Before he slipped over the edge, and his smoldering campfire turned into an inferno, he slowly broke the kiss and reached for the last tattered threads of his self-control. “Jenni”—he brushed one last kiss over her moist lips while trying to catch his breath—“Felicity will be here any moment.” The last thing he wanted to do was give an impressionable teenage girl a sex education 101 class.

  Jenni looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Jenni slowly lowered her arms, and he stepped back.

  He smiled gently. At least he knew whatever he was feeling, Jenni was too. This fierce heat was between them, but there was something else, something powerful and so new to him that he couldn’t put a name to it. Desire, lust, and just plain old horniness, he understood. Whatever was happening between him and Jenni was different and it was starting to scare him.

  Jenni worming her way into his heart, he could handle. Chase and Corey made his blood drop a few degrees. Tucker, on the other hand, made it freeze. The five-year-old had used his grandmother’s toothbrush on Bojangles’s teeth and hadn’t bothered to tell her about it until two days ago. Dorothy was currently working her way through her third bottle of mouthwash.

  “How’s the remodeling coming along?” All week long Pete Van de Camp’s beat-up old pickup had been parked in front of the house. It was a record for Pete.

  Coop had made a habit of stopping by just about every night on the pretense of checking Pete’s work. In truth his visits were for Dorothy’s cooking and Jenni’s kisses.

  “Pete seems to be holding it together, and for some strange reason, I think he’s bonding with Tucker.”

  “Tucker? Your Tucker?” If Tucker had been left out in the woods, wolves wouldn’t even raise him.

  “Yes, my Tucker.” Jenni grinned. “It’s kinda cute. Pete let him chip away at the tile in Dorothy’s old bathroom the other day when he got home from school.”

  “He gave Tucker tools?” Coop glanced out the window next to the door. He could make out the section of the second story that was Dorothy’s bathroom. “It’s still standing.” He would have placed money on at least one gaping hole, if not scorch marks damaging the wooden siding.

  Jenni whacked him on the arm. “Tucker’s not that bad.” Jenni chuckled at herself. “Most of the time.”

  “If you say so.” He would be the last to admit that he kind of liked Tucker. The boy had what John Wayne referred to as “grit.” “Hasn’t Tucker tried to electrocute, glue, or decapitate Pete yet?” Maybe the boy was going soft in his old age. Or maybe Pete was working drunk out of his skull.

  What did he know about kids? Absolutely nothing. He was an only child. Jenni was the first woman he’d ever dated who had a child, let alone three.

  “There was the one incident with the pliers, but that didn’t count. Tucker was only trying to imitate Felicity and pluck the cat’s eyebrows.” Jenni opened up the first box and pulled out a packing slip.

  “Felicity plucks the cat’s eyebrows?” He had lived with his ex-girlfriend for seven years. When Candace wasn’t plucking her brows, she was getting them waxed, shaped, and sometimes dyed. Then she would spend two days pouting because he never seemed to notice. A woman’s eyebrows weren’t high up on his pay-attention-to list. As long as Candace hadn’t been sporting a unibrow, he couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

  Jenni glanced up, glared at him, and then rolled her eyes. “Just be thankful you didn’t hear Dumber’s scream.” Coop was pulling her leg again, so
she pulled his back. Thankfully Pete had caught Tucker before he could get the cat’s head steady.

  Coop shuddered. “I thought you said Pete and Tucker were bonding?”

  “They are. Pete promised not to pluck Tucker’s eyebrows with a monkey wrench if Tucker promised not to try that number again.” She sliced through the tape on the next box—more empty jars. “Tucker will hold to his promise not to, because he never does the same thing twice.” Her son had more creativity than that.

  “So Pete’s working out okay? No problems?” Coop lifted up the next boxes onto the work table for her.

  “He’s doing a great job in Dorothy’s bathroom. The only problem is, she and Felicity now have to share my and the boys’ bathroom, and it’s getting crowded real fast.” She didn’t want to think about the athletic abilities she now needed just to take a shower. Between boats, toys, six bottles of shampoo and just as many of conditioner, not to mention bars of soap, bottles of body wash, buffs, puffs, and Lord knew what all else, there was barely any room to stand, let alone move.

  Last night she had showered with Buster the turtle floating on an orange plastic Frisbee with a few chew marks around the edges. Buster was fascinated by bubbles.

  Coop was polite enough to try to hide his laughter. “How much longer will it take before Dorothy’s bathroom is operational?”

  “Pete got the tub into place this morning. He’s putting up the wallboards or whatever it is that he needs before tiling.” Dorothy was having a ball picking out the tile and fixtures, even though she would never admit it. Dorothy had fought her on which room of the house should be done first. For the first time in their relationship, Jenni had pulled rank on her mother-in-law. After all, it was Jenni’s house.

 

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