“Chloe Davenport?” Samantha shot up from her stool, face glittered with excitement.
Now everyone at the table had eyes set on Chloe, who sat there, hands wrapped around her coffee cup, mouth drawn in a hard line.
“Yep”—she dipped her head—“I’m Chloe Davenport.”
Samantha jumped up and down, let out a muffled screech. “Can I—can I hug you?”
Color—a wild pink—embedded Chloe’s cheeks. “Of course, you can.”
The soft-spoken Hillary, raised her hand, wrinkled her nose. “Now, let me get this straight. You’re that fancy writer lady who sneaks into towns, spies on its unsuspecting residents, then makes a book about their lives?”
“That would be right,” Dylan replied on behalf of Chloe, who was being smothered by a giddy Samantha.
“Oh, my. Mayor Parker would absolutely die if she knew you were here in Fortune’s Bay and that this town may be the setting for your next beach read. It’s no secret she adores your novels,” chimed in Marge. “We all do, really.”
“I can’t believe you’re here and I’m actually meeting you. I have every single one of your love stories. And oh, my gosh…the last one, Lovestruck in Pine Cove, I’ve read it at least six times.”
“Seven.” Liam felt the need to correct his wife, who was obviously having a super-fan moment.
Chloe rested her hand over her chest. “I’m so flattered. But you all have got to keep this between us. My publisher and editor would freak out if they knew my cover was blown. They like to keep my whereabouts, not to mention my identity, hush-hush, careful not to give away where my next book will be set.”
“So, there will be a Lovestruck in Fortune’s Bay?” Liam grabbed Samantha’s hand, reeled her back to her own stool to give Chloe breathing space.
“I certainly hope so. You’ll get signed copies, of course.”
The offshore wind’s moans began to vibrate the boarded windows and Dylan took it as his cue to get up, to clear the table. “We’d better close up shop, head out, get the supplies we’ll need to get through the storm.”
“Where are you and our new friend planning to stay?” asked Marge. “You know anywhere on Shelter Island is off-limits, now. Gosh, Dylan…you’re not thinking your place on the beach is safe, I hope.”
“We should be fine. Reese installed those storm shutters last month.” Dylan believed the new shutters were durable enough to withstand this storm called Amelia.
Samantha stood, hands on hips. “So, you’re not staying with us?”
Located inland, far away from the surge of waves that hits beachside homes and businesses during a storm, Samantha and Liam’s home was the ideal place to hunker down.
“I didn’t want to impose. I mean if it were just me—”
“You know darn well if your uncle and aunt were still here, they wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mitch interrupted. “They’d want every one of you out of harm’s way.”
The rest of The Crew resembled a group of bobbleheads, dipping their heads down, then up in agreement, knowing their friends, whom they missed dearly, would have insisted they ride out the storm in the house they left to their beloved niece and nephew-in-law.
Samantha swallowed a sip of her coffee, flicked her long-lashed, dark browns in the direction of her favorite author. “Chloe, you’re more than welcome to bunk at our house. I mean, Liam and I’d be honored to have you.”
Chloe hesitated, tapped her now-empty coffee cup. “That’s awfully considerate, but I don’t want to put anyone out, really.”
“Put anyone out?” Marge held her belly as the laugh escaped her lips. “Don’t be silly, dear. Have you seen their house? That thing is humungous. It once belonged to friends of ours—Stan and Katie—before they left us, gone on to a better life.”
“Oh, I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
Dan, who had been quiet up until now, snorted out a chuckle. “You think they’re gone?” He paused, let out another chuckle.“No, sweetie. By gone, we mean those two decided they’d rather spend the next few years traveling the world. They picked up and set sail with Norwegian Cruise Lines, running Destiny’s Two, a coffee shop and bakery, on the ship.”
Hillary reached across the table, rubbed the back of Chloe’s hand, and added, “That’s why Dylan and Samantha took over the reins of this here coffee shop for their aunt and uncle.”
“That’s right.” Samantha smiled. “And instead of selling the house, they gave it to me and Liam as a wedding gift.”
Dylan returned to the table and plopped back down next to Chloe, who was staring down at her coffee cup, a wide smile plastered across her face. “We’ll go back home, pack up some clothing, stop at the store for a few groceries, then head to Sam and Liam’s.”
The Crew let out a sigh of relief and rose from their stools, making their way to the door to leave.
Liam and Samantha followed The Crew. “Excellent plan, brother-in-law. Sam and I will see you two there later.”
With a playful nudge, Dylan leaned in closer to Chloe and asked, “Does all that sound okay with you?” Then melted when her cheeks dimpled and the corners of her sapphire eyes crinkled…
“Dylan Hawke, it sounds like all sorts of wonderful.”
Chapter 17
It was hours later when Chloe and Dylan arrived at Samantha’s and Liam’s house—a charming two-story Victorian the color of the once-blue sky. By now, fog-grey clouds filled the atmosphere, and the mild gusts of wind morphed into ruthless gales, sending swirls of debris down the streets. On the drive over, Chloe had taken calls from her mom, dad, even a neighbor back home in San Francisco, assuring each one she’d be out of harm’s way. It was trust in the man she was growing attracted to by the minute that gave her confidence she’d made the right decision, staying in Fortune’s Bay.
“We’ll help you with your bags.” Liam and Samantha rushed to the trunk of Chloe’s rental to help Dylan unload the suitcases, bags of groceries, and—
“Your camera?” Samantha smiled up at her brother. It had been months since he’d brought what used to be his beloved camera out anywhere. He’d admitted that much to Chloe when he shoved it in the trunk of the car, back at his house.
“Yeah, I’m gonna try and capture some post-storm pics.”
Inside, Samantha showed Chloe to an upstairs bedroom, its walls painted a light tint of lilac, equipped with a full-size bed, a television, and a quaint wooden desk that sat beside a rectangular window. “As you can see, there’s a desk right here so you can write, and I thought you’d like to be in a room next door to Dylan.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “I think he likes you.”
Only that whisper was apparently loud enough to be heard by Liam, who popped in the room. “Now, Samantha, my love, don’t be like one of those pesky secondary characters in Chloe’s novels. No one likes a meddler.” His playful remark made them all let out a breezy laugh. “Dylan’s downstairs in the kitchen, preparing us all some dinner. I’m headed to the den to grade papers.” He kissed Samantha on the forehead before he disappeared down the hallway.
It was moving to watch the tender, frolicsome, mostly flirty exchange between them, making it obvious to Chloe, the two were positively in love.
Samantha leaned up against one of the walls and surveyed Chloe with a set of wondering eyes. “Would you care for a quick tour of the house before you get settled?”
“Sure, I’d love that.”
Chloe walked alongside Dylan’s sister, down the narrow hallway, glancing at what appeared to be family photos on the walls. “How long have you lived in Fortune’s Bay?”
“Just about my entire life, off and on.”
The statement left an inquisitive Chloe feeling curious. “Oh?”
Samantha simpered. “Growing up, I didn’t enjoy Boston as much as Dylan did. Don’t get me wrong, it had nothing at all to do with Mom and Dad. Yet, for some reason, I didn’t like the big-city life. So, when I was seven or eight, I began spending my spring breaks, s
ummers, and parts of my winter breaks, here with Uncle Stan and Aunt Katie. They didn’t have any kids of their own and welcomed me with open arms. Spoiled me rotten, too.” She palmed a door open, showed Chloe it was a bathroom, then closed it and continued the tour. “It’s how I met Liam, actually. Literally the cute-looking guy next door. Hated his guts at first. Then again, at that age, most girls hate boys, right?” She looked at Chloe who offered a warm smile in agreement. “You met his parents, Marge and Mitch, at the shop. You may have noticed him hugging them earlier?”
It all made more sense to Chloe now; how they all seemed to have this endearing connection with the Early Brew Crew. “Yes, I did notice that.”
Samantha showed her three more bedrooms, the den Liam sat in, grading papers, then downstairs to a family room, living room, dining room, laundry room, and the kitchen where Dylan was busy cooking up a feast.
“Come on, let’s head back upstairs, give you time to get settled before dinner.”
Chloe trailed behind her up the stairs, taken by her hospitality. “Thanks again for having me here, especially on such short notice.”
“Don’t mention it. We’re honored to have you with us.” She paused at Chloe’s bedroom door. “I wasn’t kidding when I said my brother likes you. I think you like him too…am I right?”
A deep shade of guilty embarrassment stained Chloe’s cheekbones. Was it that obvious she had the hots for Dylan Hawke? “I’ll admit he’s growing on me.”
“Well, you'll probably have to make the first move. He’s as stubborn as they come, not to mention, super guarded after what’s-her-face did him wrong. He hasn’t been out on one single date since their demise.”
“Something for me to consider, that’s for sure.” Chloe thought making the first move would be too much of a risk for her to take. Then again, wasn’t she trying to loosen up, become that risk taker?
Just after what would have been sundown—if the yellow ball in the sky wasn’t obscured by a veil of storm clouds—Chloe joined Dylan, Samantha, and Liam downstairs for dinner: hearty, warm-your-soul, bowls of creamy chicken-noodle soup.
The four sat around the round oak table in the kitchen, eating, talking, as untamed winds howled, and the pitter-patter of rain could be heard dribbling along the pavement outside.
“News says the storm will hit hardest around midnight.” Dylan slurped a spoonful of soup.
“I don’t think the rain and wind will be too bad. Did you see the group text message from Dad?” Samantha too, slurped up soup.
“Yeah. Then I called both Mom and Dad, let them know I’m staying here with you two until the storm passes.”
Being their only two children, Dylan’s parents probably still worried about him and his twin, maybe even more now than when they were younger.
“So, Chloe…is this your first tropical storm?” Liam took a sip of white wine after he asked her.
“As a matter of fact, it is.” Sitting, speaking with them came to Chloe with ease, as if she’d known them for months, years even. “It’s kind of exciting, though. An experience I will, without a doubt, include in my novel.”
“And, how is it coming along? Your novel?” It was easy to tell by Samantha’s goggled eyes, how much she admired Chloe’s work.
Chloe grimaced slightly, to herself. The fact she was still stuck in a slump would be a hard admission. “I’m at a standstill at the moment.” She sipped some wine, twisted her earring, raised a brow. “Actually, Samantha, maybe you can help me with something.”
“Sure. I’ll try my best.”
Chloe went on to explain about the demands of her editor and publisher, hoping that hearing from a real reader would make a difference. “So, with that said, do you feel the characters in my books need to, you know…”
“Have a midnight jockey ride?” Liam laughed out loud at his own words.
They all did, really.
“I’ve honestly never heard it called that before, man.” Dylan hung is head down, laughed some more.
Samantha, freckled cheeks the color of pink roses, punched her unruly husband in the shoulder before she offered Chloe insight. “I may be the wrong person to ask. I mean, I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a prude when it comes to midnight jockey rides in books. Personally, I don’t need the details. But you’re talking to someone who blushes when people kiss in movies. Plus”—she glanced at Liam—“since I’ve only had one guy to go on a jockey ride with, I don’t want to read how others please their ladies.”
“Wait,” Liam began, wide-eyed. “You’ve never had anyone else explore your territory? Not even when we took a break your first year in college?”
Samantha cupped Liam’s jaw, pulled him close, rubbed his nose with hers. “No babe. This territory is and will forever be, all yours.”
Chloe took a mental note of their playful interaction as she held her hand over her mouth, trying hard to stifle giggles. That territory dialogue would definitely make its way into one of her novels. “Thanks so much for your feedback, Samantha. It means a lot for me to know what a reader truly wants.”
“My pleasure, happy to help.” Samantha exchanged a series of frisky looks with her seemingly bedazzled hubby.
“I”—Liam paused, ran his fingers through his mop of hair, starry eyes stuck to his wifey—“I’m feeling kinda turned on right now, knowing no one but me has…”
Samantha shot up from her seat, dragged Liam along with her. “You two mind if we head upstairs for the rest of the evening?”
Chloe’s face turned a beet red.
Dylan’s did, too. “You go right ahead. I’m sure Chloe and I can clean up down here, put the leftovers in the fridge.”
Immediately after his sister and brother-in-law were out of earshot, Dylan looked over to Chloe, who at this point, was feeling highly entertained. “I’m so sorry about their behavior. They usually control themselves when they’re around other people.”
It made her laugh, the way Dylan seemed to feel it necessary to apologize for them, in between his bout of laughter. “It’s quite alright. They’re actually inspiring. Makes me have faith love is in the air, here in Fortune’s Bay.”
Raindrops began to sound like rocks slamming against the ground, as hail began to fall. Dylan came up from his seat, then rushed to the window above the kitchen sink to peek out. “Looks as though it’s getting rough out there. We should hear thunder, see lightning strikes soon.”
Chloe joined him, stood close, catching a peep out the window, her curious side taking full control of her actions. “Oh, look at the size of those. Drops of hail that big don’t fall from the sky back home in San Francisco.”
Balancing on tiptoes to get a better look, Chloe’s shoulder grazed his. The exchange brought her a sudden jolt, made her feel tipsy. Was this a make-the-first-move, opportunity? Pivot to face him, look into his eyes, bring her lips to his?
She’d planned to be the one to go for it, get up the courage, and make the first move, like Samantha suggested. Go on, Chloe. Take the risk. Her conscience was cheering her on, fuzzy pompoms and all. But Chloe froze, stood there, still balancing on tiptoes, watching the avalanche of hail fall from the sky. Dropping. Plummeting.
Just like her courage.
Chapter 18
Kiss her.
There was only one thing that stopped Dylan from doing so then, and during all the previous opportunities that had slipped away, stolen by pure apprehension.
It was the fear of rejection. Not to mention the fear he’d be diving into something too soon after having his heart broken by bimbo Cynthia. Then, add the inability to trust a so-called thing he used to know as, love—the idea of it now painfully tainted.
Chloe is different. He reasoned with himself every single time he backed off from acting on his desire, the boom, boom of his heart racing that much faster each time his eyes got a glimpse of her smile, or when he inhaled a whiff of that entrancing perfume, or any moment he inadvertently came in physical contact with her.
She�
�s just so carefree, so captivating, so—
“Kiss me.”
Dylan took a double-take at Chloe who stood facing him, hands on hips, eyes closed, lips full-on puckered.
“W-what?” A snicker busted free, not because he was laughing at her. No, his snicker was more shock-induced.
“Oh, great,” Chloe gave a scoffing eye-roll, flung her hands in the air. “I ask for a kiss, and get a laugh. Not exactly the reaction I was aiming for.” She whirled around, headed full speed for the table, then began stacking and balancing bowls, spoons, wineglasses in her arms like a skilled waitress at Wilde Pirate.
Dumbfounded, Dylan shook his head, a partial grin forming on the corners of his mouth as he walked toward her. “You want me to kiss you?”
“Nope. Not anymore. That ship has sailed so far off into the ocean.” Chloe brushed past him, set the dishes in the sink. “In fact, it’s pretty much lost at sea.”
He adored this side of her: the feisty, snarky, mouthy side he found irresistible. Refusing to blow another chance to claim her lips with his, Dylan took two steps—well, if we’re being totally accurate, he skillfully leaped—over to the kitchen sink, spun her about, his arm around her waist, drawing her closer, closer, until their lips touched.
Soft.
Sweet.
The making of a slow, sensual, make-them-both-melt-inside, flesh-tingling kind of kiss.
Okay, it could have been. If the earth-shattering clap of thunder hadn’t pulled their lips apart.
“Thunder.” Dylan’s ingenious, one-worded testimony was spoken through a breathless murmur.
“Right,” Chloe replied, seemingly more breathless.
Dylan didn’t move, remained there, arms still bracketing her waist, gazes locked. Being this close, made a surge of heat course through his veins, as if her lips fed him a healthy, much-needed dose of lustful energy. Finish that kiss. “Perhaps we should finish…cleaning.” Dude, what? Dylan mentally sucker-punched himself for being such an idiot.
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