“Several. I have a low tolerance for alcohol, it seems, so it doesn’t take much to make me silly. And also because as a prosecutor for the past eight years, I worked closely with the local and state police. I would have been mortified if I’d ever been stopped for a suspicion of DUI and later had to face the same officer in court, not to mention any of the judges that I dealt with on a daily basis.” She toyed with her glass for a moment. “Besides, I handled several cases where driving under the influence caused serious accidents. It’s not something I’d ever do.”
“Well, tonight you’re not driving, so you have nothing to worry about. And since my tolerance is apparently a little better than yours, I think we’re good.”
They finished their entrées, passed on dessert, and wandered hand in hand to the end of the pier. The moon spread golden shadows across the water, along the marina, and onto the dock.
“It’s so pretty here and it smells so good.” Sophie took a deep breath of the night that was a curious mix of magnolia and salt air. “I keep telling myself that I need to see more of the town. There are so many streets I haven’t driven down yet, so many shops I haven’t poked into. It seems as if I travel between my house and the office and Pop’s, and that’s about all.”
“Come Tuesday you’ll have your restaurant. Or is that on the aforementioned route?”
“Not on the route, no. But I’ll still be working for Jess part time. I came here to help him out, and I’m not going to leave him in the lurch.”
“How are you going to swing that? Restaurant, law office?”
“I’ll work it out.”
“I don’t know anyone like you, Sophie.” He turned her around to face him. “I’ve never known anyone like you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It’s a wonderful thing.” He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. There was nothing tentative about this kiss. It was direct and demanding and filled with need. Sophie pressed into him and parted her lips, inviting his tongue to explore. Her heart raced and her breath quickened, and heat spread through her body as if she’d been set on fire.
“My place or yours?” she managed to ask. Before he could respond, she said, “My place.”
They walked back to his truck at a quicker pace, and as she strapped into her seat belt, Jason asked, “You sure?”
“Positive.”
She watched his beautiful hands grasp the steering wheel, imagined them caressing every inch of skin on her body, and had to bite her lip to keep from making a sound that might prove embarrassing, given the fact that they were still a few blocks from her house. He pulled the truck into her driveway and before he turned off the engine, asked again, “You’re sure you want to …”
She leaned across the console, took his face in her hands, and kissed him, her tongue teasing his, assuring him without words that she knew exactly what she was doing. His hands were at her waist, pulling her closer, and her arms wrapped around his neck. She ached for him to touch her with those hands and sighed deeply when they found their way to her breasts. She wanted out of her dress, out of everything, wanted him out of those khakis and that sweater. She pulled away and unhooked her seat belt, while his mouth found its way down the side of her throat and his hands were sliding up her thighs.
“Inside,” she gasped. “We can’t … not here … driveway. Neighbors …”
“Right. Neighbors …” Jason jumped out of the truck at the same time she did and followed her to the path that led to the front door. His hands were on her as she fumbled with the key, scrambling her brain to the point where she had to ask herself if the key turned to the right or to the left.
Finally, the door was open, and they were inside, though barely, before she was on her tiptoes to reach his mouth. She kissed him hungrily, and he responded by lifting her up to trap her body between his and the nearest wall. She eased her dress up to her hips and unhooked her belt, dropping it to the floor with a clang. He pressed his body hard against hers, and she pressed back with her hips to grind against him. His lips trailed to her neck and her collarbone, and she urged him lower, but her dress was in the way. She struggled to pull it over her head and tossed it. She slipped the straps of her bra lower, pressing his mouth to her flesh with one hand and tugging on his belt with the other. He hoisted her a little higher in his arms to take her breast in his mouth, and she gasped at the shot of heat that followed.
“My room …,” she managed the few words.
“Where?” he gasped.
She pointed down the hall to the right and he followed, his mouth and tongue still working their magic. He pushed the door open with his foot and placed her gently on the side of the bed. She inched back toward the pillows and removed her underwear while he shed his clothes, then lay back with open arms to welcome him. Her legs encircled his hips and she moved under him to guide him and to urge him closer, then lifted herself to allow him inside her. She moaned when he entered her, arching her back and giving herself to him as completely as she could. They moved together wordlessly, an occasional sigh of pleasure the only sound they made. The rhythm picked up, increasing in tempo and the need for release. When that release finally came, it shattered her body and left her mind reeling. When she finally found her voice, it was to utter one word.
“Crap,” she said softly.
“Crap?” Jason lifted his head. “Did you say ‘crap’?”
“I meant, as in ‘holy crap, that was amazing.’ ”
“Not ‘holy crap, what the hell did I just do and God please keep me from doing it again’?”
“Not on your life.” She pulled him back to her so that his head rested against her shoulder and chest.
Her arms around him, Sophie closed her eyes and tried to remember the last time she’d felt such a powerful connection. She searched her memory hard but couldn’t recall ever having felt such a hard slam of emotion, a slam that hit her on every level. Her breathing easing almost to normal, she felt him stir. His lips kissed the hollow of her throat before starting a very slow inching downward.
“Let’s see if there’s anything beyond ‘oh crap,’ ” he whispered.
She arched her back to help him find his way, leaned her head back, closed her yes, and tried to come up with a more articulate way of expressing her satisfaction.
Chapter 19
SOPHIE stretched her arms and legs, then reached over to the other side of the bed, where she felt … nothing but sheet. Opening her eyes and sitting up, she looked around the room. From the bathroom, she could hear whistling, soft and low, and recognizing the tune, she grinned from ear to ear. She lay back and listened. The guy was not only handsome, buff, smart, and cool, he was incredibly sweet.
When he came out of the bathroom, fully dressed, she felt a momentary stab of disappointment.
“Sorry. I have a meeting in ten minutes with a client.” He leaned over to kiss her. “I should have told you I’d have to leave early.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
“Not so very early,” she noted. “That song you were whistling …”
“I looked it up on the Internet, downloaded it to my iPad. You were right. Very romantic. ‘The Twelfth of Never.’ A long, long time, indeed.” He kissed her again. “Speaking of time—when is Jesse due in?”
“Sometime this afternoon. I’m supposed to meet him at the office at some point, but I have no idea when.”
“You’re going over to Ellie’s this morning, though, right?”
“Oh, the historical society thing. Yes, I was recruited.”
“You know how to get there?”
She shook her head, and he gave her directions.
“Thanks. That’s easy enough to find.” She plumped the pillow up behind her. “What’s the attire at these things?”
“Formal. Definitely. That slinky little thing you wore to the wedding would be just right.”
“You remember what I wore last weekend?” She was intrigued. Chris
topher had never really seemed to notice what she wore.
“Couldn’t take my eyes off you, babe. Could barely keep my hands to myself.”
“Good to know.”
“I’ll see you at Ellie’s.” One more tiny smooch on the tip of her nose, and he was gone.
Sophie rose onto her elbows and listened as Jason’s footsteps trailed down the hall, heard the front door open, then close. Had she even locked it last night? That could have proved embarrassing, had someone decided to break in. Smiling at the chaos that could have ensued, Hollywood-style, she plunked her head back against the pillow and sighed deeply. Contrary to whatever Gwen might have thought, that had not been rebound sex. That had been simply spectacular sex.
Christopher Lemaster, you should be so lucky.
She got out of bed, pushed the curtain aside, and watched the black pickup back out of the driveway. Humming, she headed for the shower.
Jason left his truck halfway down Bay View Road and had to walk the rest of the way to number one, Ellie’s house at the very end, where the dunes met the macadam. He surveyed the gathering crowd for Sophie, and when he couldn’t locate her, he walked to the table where the raffle tickets were being sold.
“You ready to guess what’s behind those doors?” asked Hamilton Forbes, who served as one of the directors of the historical society. “Ten dollars a guess.”
“I’ll guess twice.” Jason handed him a twenty, and he was handed two large numbered cards in return.
“Make ’em count, son,” Ham told him.
Jason scratched the back of his neck. He had no way of knowing what might be inside that building. He didn’t know the people who lived here before Ellie did. Hell, Ellie didn’t know the people who lived there, and she was related to them. He guessed a workbench on one card, and a lawn mower on the other.
“Lawn mower’s been guessed about eighteen times already,” Ham noted.
“Best I could come up with in a pinch.” Jason shrugged. “What happens if we’re all right?”
“Then you all get to split half of what we take in.” Ham snagged the next person to walk by and sold a few more tickets.
Jason waved to Grace, who was deep in conversation with a woman he didn’t recognize, and walked the perimeter of the group. He’d just reached the tree line when he saw Sophie out of the corner of his eye. He could pick her out in any crowd, he thought. He knew how she moved. He stood back and just watched her for a moment, taking pleasure in the way she smiled at people, the friendly way she touched this person’s arm or the small of that person’s back as she passed through the throng. She was so natural, her manner so easy and unaffected, and so beautiful he could barely believe that last night hadn’t been the best dream he’d ever had. Could have been, but there she was, raising a few fingers in greeting and making her way to him.
Jason couldn’t say at that moment where or how far this thing between them would go, but he was all in until the last living second.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He looped his thumbs through his waistband lest those hands reach out for her. He wasn’t sure such a PDA would be appreciated. He had to settle for one of her smiles, and just for a moment, they were back at her little rented house, alone in their own little world. “You’re on time.”
“Barely. I had a phone call.”
“Anything wrong?”
“What? Oh, no. Just a friend I worked with back in Ohio.”
“Did you buy a ticket?”
“Sure. I bought two.”
“What did you guess?”
“A lawn mower on one.”
“So did I, and apparently so did half the people here.”
“It seemed logical.”
“What about the second one?”
“I guessed a carriage.” She looked up and smiled, and his heart thumped an extra few beats. “Makes sense, right? Carriage house? Carriage?”
“Well, there go Cameron and Grant with some serious-looking tools to cut off the chain, so I guess we’ll know soon enough.”
“Looks like Grace is going to say a few words first,” Sophie noted.
“I’m so pleased to see so many of you here this morning.” Grace spoke from the back porch, where she leaned against the top rail. “As you know, we pick one building to renovate as best we can with the funds we raise, and this year, we’ve chosen the Ryder-Cavanaugh carriage house. Ellie hasn’t been able to get the lock off, so today, we’re bringing out the big guns. Cam has some cutter thing that he thinks might be able to work through the chain, so we’ll see.”
“If he can’t get it open or if the place is empty, do we get our raffle money back?” someone from the crowd called.
“Sorry, but no. As you can see, Ham Forbes is holding all the cash, and we all know he’s never voluntarily given up a dime he didn’t have to.” She smiled. “We knew what we were doing when we put him in charge of the raffle.”
Ham laughed good-naturedly along with the crowd.
“Now, I think most of us know that the original house on this property was built by the keeper of the lighthouse that was just beyond those trees.” Grace pointed off to her left. “If you know your local history, you’ll recall that that house actually stood where the carriage house stands now, the house that was burned by the pirates that used to terrorize St. Dennis, but that’s another story. It’s said that the foundation of the original house can be seen inside the carriage house, but I don’t know anyone who’s actually seen it, so we all might be in on a big discovery today. The lighthouse, of course, has been gone for many years now, though the base is still standing.”
“So if I guessed that we’d find the foundation in there, and it’s there, I win, right?” a woman in the front of the crowd asked.
“Sadly, no, since that’s common knowledge.” Grace glanced toward the carriage house. “Cameron, you and Grant ready to begin?”
“We are.” Cam held up a bolt cutter. The handles were three feet long, and the cutting end looked deadly.
“Go for it,” Ellie urged him.
Grant held the thick, rusted links in his hands, and Cam proceeded to cut away. When the chain finally fell to the ground, releasing the lock, Cam pushed open the high, wide double doors and the crowd cheered.
“I guess I could have done that months ago,” Cam acknowledged.
“But look at all the fun we’d have missed.” Grace came down from the porch. “Not to mention the fact that the historical society will benefit.” She turned and gestured to Ham, as president of the organization, to follow her inside. “Here we go, people.”
With Grace and Ham leading the way, the crowd pressed forward. The air inside was stale and musty, and cobwebs hung from the ceilings. The windows of the old structure had been painted black at some point in the past, so those with flashlights turned them on. There was some light chatter, then silence. “Would you look at that!”
“I’m looking, but I don’t know what I’m looking at!”
“What do you suppose that is?”
Fifty-two pairs of eyes stared at the great glass object in the middle of the floor.
“It’s the lamp and the lens from the old lighthouse,” an awed Grace told them.
“It’s a Fresnel lens.” Jason knelt down to inspect the glass.
“How would you know that?” Sophie asked.
“I did some work on the grounds at a lighthouse in Florida that was being restored. The engineers showed me how the whole thing worked. The lens surrounds the lamp sort of the way a lamp shade surrounds a lightbulb. This one was probably fixed, showed a steady stream of light. There was also a revolving lens that made a flashing light.”
“Cool,” someone in the back said.
“Very cool,” agreed Cam. He looked over his shoulder at Ellie. “Any idea what you might want to do with it?”
She shook her head. “None whatsoever. I mean, what does one do with a giant glass lamp shade?”
“Sell it to a lighthouse somewhere?” s
omeone suggested.
“This one’s cracked—see there?” He pointed to deep within the lens. “Besides, I don’t think any of these are still operational,” Jason told them. “Most modern lighthouses use aerobeacons, some have gone to LED. I don’t think there’s a market for Fresnel lenses. I could be wrong, but it’s doubtful. I guess maybe the Coast Guard might know.”
“Maybe we should move it to the historical society’s building,” Ellie said.
“The building’s too small.” Grace appeared thoughtful. “Maybe we could put it on display somewhere, though, if Ellie agreed.”
“My lens is your lens.” Ellie shrugged. “If you want to move it, be my guest.”
“I suppose for now, this is as good a place for it as any, until someone comes up with a plan for it.” Cam stood, his hands on his hips, still staring at their find.
“Anyone have ‘lens for the old lighthouse’ on their raffle card?” Grace glanced around. No hands shot up.
“Then I thank you all for your donations to the organization. Now, let’s put those flashlights to work and see if we can locate the foundation of the old house that’s supposed to be in here.”
Several dozen flashlights sent beams of light around the darkened structure. Finally, Cameron called out from the left side of the building.
“I think this is it.” He knelt down and moved some dirt away from a line of random stones. “Looks like it started here and went across the back of the building.”
“I believe you’re right.” Grace came closer to inspect the rubble. “It’s always gratifying when reality proves a legend to be true.”
She whipped out her camera and began to take pictures. “Story and photos in Thursday’s edition of the St. Dennis Gazette,” she told everyone. “This is an exciting day. Ellie, thank you for allowing us to break into your carriage house.”
“Thank you for suggesting it,” Ellie said. “I’ve been wondering what was in this place for months. I just found my great-aunt’s croquet set in the corner, and I’m not sure what all else we might find.”
“I found some empty paint cans.” Grant held one up. “There are a few old tires, some garden tools, and a rusty bicycle along the back wall.”
At the River’s Edge Page 24