With You: A Queensbay Small Town Romance (The Queensbay Series Book 5)

by Drea Stein

  Tory drew a deep breath in relief. Relationships were complicated, which was why she avoided them. Still, as she listened to her friends talk about wedding dresses and flowers, she had just one more thought of Colby Reynolds, with his sexy eyes, sexy butt and, yes, sexy accent. Maybe Lynn was on to something. A guy like that, one who worked with his hands and fixed cars, had to be uncomplicated, right?

  Chapter 7

  “What’s the big news I hear you have to tell me?”

  Tory looked up. She had been wading through a very thorough presentation a salesman had sent her about an inventory system he thought would be perfect for the company. The new job was going great, but she had never fully appreciated how many reports and emails Horace must have had to read just to keep up. Tory had found herself working late and getting up early just to keep up on things. Still, she got a thrill every time she looked at her new business cards. She had made it.

  “Mom!” Tory said in surprise as Linda Somers pulled out the metal and wood chair and sat down at the small corner table. It was still early, and the Golden Pear café was relatively quiet with only the owner Darby bustling in the background. Her mother’s appearance didn’t surprise Tory; her mom had always been an early riser. She’d probably come into town to stroll along the boardwalk with her friend Joan Altieri, who ran one of the local shops.

  “I had to hear it from Joan,” her mother chided her as she took a sip of coffee. It was black, Tory knew, and Linda liked hers strong.

  “Sorry, Mom, I’ve been pretty busy,” she said. So busy she’d forgotten to stock up on coffee, which was one of the reasons she was here so early. There was nothing quite like a cup of Darby’s coffee to get the morning going.

  “It’s all right, dear.” Her mother gave a theatrical sigh. “Your father and I are very proud of you. I suppose, though, that means you’re going to be staying in town?”

  Tory nodded. Her mother was possibly the only one in the world who hadn’t been happy with Tory’s decision to stay in Queensbay. All her life, Tory could remember her mom pushing her, forward, out and on to greater adventures. Her mother had told her she could go and live anywhere, Paris, London, California. But the one place her mother had never wanted her to live was Queensbay.

  “Looks like it, Mom. Luckily the company’s growing, and Chase offered me some very good terms. I would have been foolish to say no to it.”

  “Of course, dear. I just hope you’re not settling.”

  “Settling?” Tory had to fight to keep the irritation from seeping into her voice. “Mom, I’m the Chief Technology Officer at an up and coming company and I’m not even thirty. I don’t think this is what settling looks like.”

  “If you’re sure,” her mother said. “I just hope you’re not letting old loyalties keep you in one place. I thought you were thinking of maybe moving on and out of Queensbay. Some of the other job offers sounded pretty enticing.”

  Tory smiled weakly. Her mother had always been a force to be reckoned with, wielding strong Yankee disapproval like a weapon.

  “But with the higher cost of living in some of those cities, I wouldn’t be making as much money in the long run. And none of them offered me as good a title as Chase did.”

  “Still, North Coast Outfitters is a relatively small company. Wouldn’t there be many more opportunities at one of those big companies? A chance to travel? Sometimes it isn’t about the money you make; it’s about the experience you have. I just don’t want you to look around a few years from now and realize that you’ve spent a good portion of your life in a small town when you could have been out seeing the world.”

  Tory had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She knew her mother was dancing around the subject. Linda had been horrified when Tory had forgone some of her other job offers to stay here in Queensbay and work for Chase. It had been because of Stevie. Stevie’ landscaping company was growing and he couldn’t leave. And Tory had been so enamored, so in love, she couldn’t think about a long distance relationship. And so she had stayed, much to her mother’s chagrin. And the fact that her mother had been right all along had only strained their relationship.

  The silence hung between them as Tory saw that her mother was staring out the window across the street at the empty building that stood there. There was a frown of concentration on her face as if she were running a situation through her highly practical mind.

  Her mother looked good, she realized, even if she wasn’t smiling. Her hair, pulled back in a ponytail, was suspiciously shiny and blonde, as if it had some professional help, and her exercise clothes were new. If Tory recognized the logo correctly, they were from the new high-priced athletic store in the mall. And the manicure. That was definitely a professional job. Tory was surprised. Her mom had always dismissed the idea of a professional manicure, saying it was a waste of money.

  “What?” Her mother’s focus snapped back toward her.

  “Nothing,” Tory said. “Well, I mean, you look good.” Her mother’s skin was glowing. “Did you go shopping? Get a haircut, a manicure?”

  Her mother blushed and overlapped her hands around the coffee cup. “I won something. A makeover, really—it’s silly. You know, in one of those raffles for the Garden Club? I had to go, and I just bought a few tickets. Twenty years I’ve been attending these silly things, and I’ve never won a thing, so I guess it was finally my turn.”

  “That’s great, and you look great,” Tory said, and she meant it. Her mother seldom treated herself. “Dad must love it.”

  Her mother shrugged. “You know, it’s the middle of his busy season, so he’s barely looked at me twice.”

  Tory frowned at the edge in her mother’s voice. Her father was an accountant, and this time of year was very busy for him, but it was a fact of life, something that been a constant for as long as her parents had been married. It had never seemed to bother her mother before, but lately she had noticed her mother making more and more comments like that and with the same tone of resignation, if not outright hostility. Just another reason to steer clear of long term relationships, Tory thought. No one stayed happy forever.

  To her mother she said. “I’m sure he will. He’s just busy.”

  Linda frowned and looked away for a moment before checking her watch and briskly saying, “I’m sure you have to go to work. Let’s go out to dinner next week to celebrate, ok?”

  Tory nodded, knowing that they would probably head to the diner out of town, one of her father’s favorite places for its big portions and reasonable prices, for the celebration. “Sounds good,” she told her mom.

  Chapter 8

  Tory walked into the building that housed North Coast Outfitters with a cup of coffee and a box of chocolate chip cookies from the Golden Pear. She planned on doling those out to the staff who had stayed up late taking care of a database issue. Things hadn’t slowed down since her first day on the job, but she had been happy to delegate the staying up late part to some junior staff members. Most of the staff was moved over now, and the place was bustling, with its open floor plan and bright, white walls. Art still needed to go up, but everyone was enjoying the new space, and she could feel the creative energy humming.

  She went into her new office and took a deep breath. She’d had only a little time to decorate it, but it was starting to feel just a bit homey and just a bit like hers. Her phone beeped, and she read the email. It was from the insurance company. An adjuster had been out to look at her Mini and confirmed the damage was covered. All she needed to do was find a place to take it.

  Technically she wasn’t supposed to drive it with the mirror bent, so finding a place to get it fixed was high on her list of priorities for the day.

  She sighed. There was a note on her desk, from Chase. He wanted to see her right away. So much for the hope that she would get a brief respite this morning. She had already run three miles today and sparred with her mother, but it seemed like she was destined to keep going all day long. She got up and went down the hall to where
Chase had his office. She pulled up short.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Colby Reynolds, the man from the parking lot, dressed in dark jeans, a V-neck sweater, leather jacket and cowboy boots, with nary a whiff of engine grease about him, was sitting in Chase’s office.

  “I might ask you the same thing,” Colby said. Without a cap on, she saw that he had brown hair, thick, slightly curly, and that his eyes really were the bluest blue she had ever seen—and that, yes, his shoulders, even under the weight of the leather jacket, were just as broad as she remembered.

  Telling herself not to gape, she closed her mouth and took on her favorite defensive stance, arms crossed against her chest, one shoulder leaning against the door jamb. It mattered not at all that he was sitting there, she decided, looking even hotter than she remembered, because things like that did not matter to her. Especially not because he was wearing a leather jacket and had a pair of aviator glasses snugged into the V of his sweater.

  Still, there was a distinctive scent of soap and spicy aftershave making her heart race just a little. All of a sudden, the office felt very small. Ok, so maybe it all added up to a very attractive package. She understood attraction; she could handle that. Maybe even act on it if there was mutual interest. No reason to be anything other than calm and collected.

  “I work here,” Tory said, trying to find her cool. What was Colby the mechanic doing in Chase’s office? Maybe Chase’s Porsche was acting up? Through she had to admit, Colby didn’t look quite as rough around the edges today.

  “Tory, you’re here, thank goodness,” Chase Sanders said as he walked into the office, looking trim and ready for the outdoors in his khaki pants and pressed polo shirt with the North Coast Outfitters logo on it.

  “Colby, great, you’re here, too. Tory, meet Colby Reynolds; Colby, meet Tory Somers, our resident computer whiz and newly appointed Chief Technology Officer.”

  Colby stood up and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Colby Reynolds.” His voice was slow and brought to mind honey dripped onto flaky biscuits warm from the oven. There was just the hint of faint amusement in his eyes, as if he were having too much fun to let Chase know that they had already met.

  She took his hand with just the slightest hesitation. As they connected, it felt as if a spark, the barest jolt of electricity, jumped between the two of them.

  “Tory Somers.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” he said, keeping her hand in his just a bit too long. His piercing blue eyes held her, and she felt a spread of heat through her as she stood rooted to the spot. Her whole body felt charged, tingling as if she had been shocked, yet there was no reason for it. She’d heard about instantaneous attraction, seen it in the movies, but had never believed it to be true. It just didn’t add up; still, she couldn’t deny it. There was something about Colby that was getting her body worked up, a feeling she hadn’t had—well, not quite like this—in forever.

  She pulled her hand away and held it close to her side as if that would be the only way to keep her safe.

  “Ok, you two,” Chase said, “am I missing something?” He swiveled between the two of them, looking at them curiously.

  Colby turned. “We actually met the other day, but weren’t formally introduced.”

  Chase nodded, as if that explained everything, and then his mind was on to other things. “Colby is loaning us a car for our shoot.”

  “A what for our what?” Tory couldn’t hide the confusion in her voice.

  Chase looked at her strangely. She knew it wasn’t like her to forget things, but the presence of Colby standing there was definitely distracting. His blue eyes were regarding her with more than just a bit of amusement as she fumbled to get a hold of herself.

  “The photo shoot for the fall catalog? It’s scheduled for the next two days. We’re borrowing Caitlyn and Noah Randall’s yard, and Colby is providing two cars for us. A Jaguar and a Rolls-Royce. Remember, your reports all showed that the British-inspired look sold boatloads last year, so this year, we’re going all in. The marketing team is setting the place up to look like a picnic at an English country house.”

  “Right, of course.” Since Tory’s job was in technology, she hadn’t had much involvement in the photo shoot. Still, she had sat in on some of the planning sessions, and she had marked it on her calendar, since about half of the company was going to be there.

  She turned to Colby, “But that doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

  “My company, Classic Autosports, specializes in finding, restoring and selling classic cars. We also rent them for things like photo shoots and movies,” he said smoothly.

  Tory decided she had underestimated Colby, realizing she had seen ads for his company in the high-end magazine she read at the hair salon, where she paid a small fortune every couple of months for the blonde streaks that lightened her hair.

  Then Chase, his voice brisk and businesslike, claimed her attention.

  “Colby, I’ll have the marketing team come in and prep you, but Tory, Isobel is out, stomach bug or something like that, so I want you to go along with the team, keep an eye on things, make sure those stylists don’t go too wild. Last shoot, half the pictures looked like they were part of the Tokyo emo scene. Not quite the demographic I’m going for.”

  “Me?” Tory said, shocked. “I’m not a stylist. Or the marketing director.” She had things to do, like review database security protocols, analyze shopping cart abandonment rates and help formulate some sales projections.

  Chase turned to her, his face pleading. “Please, I know, but seriously you’ve got a great sense of style, and Phoebe will be there, too. I just need you to babysit—after all, we’re borrowing some pretty high-priced vehicles, and I’m responsible if they have a scratch on them.”

  “I have things to do,” she said, her voice laced with meaning. After all, he was the one who had promoted her and knew she had an entire department to deal with. Besides the desire to spend time with Colby was tempting, so tempting that she knew she needed to find a way out of it.

  “Please, Tory, I know you have a lot on your plate, but multi-tasking is the sign of a successful executive. Consider this part of your expanded duties. I would do it myself, but I have meetings in New York. It’s just a day or two, and then you can be back, full-time, in your new role. You know we’re a small company and no one is too proud to roll up their sleeves and get their hands dirty.”

  Tory straightened. It was hard to resist Chase when he was begging. Plus, it helped that she had seen him do that very thing, after a bad storm had cracked a window and made a mess of the retail location down at the dock. Chase had been right in there, with a hammer and nails, boarding up the window, then sweeping up the debris. Chase would never ask someone to do something he wouldn’t do himself.

  “Fine, I’ll do it.”

  “Tory, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, a wide grin breaking across his face.

  “You say that to everyone.”

  “What can I say? I’m a sailor. I need lots of lifesavers.” It was one of his trademark lines, but she laughed anyway, despite the jumpiness she was feeling at the thought of seeing more of Colby Reynolds.

  Chapter 9

  Colby followed Tory down the hallway. She had said she needed a few things from her office and a chance to gather the troops before they all headed over to the location of the shoot.

  “Do you need a ride?” he asked. She turned and looked at him, as if surprised to find him following her.

  “I don’t suppose your car has been fixed, so I was just wondering if you needed a ride to the shoot. I have some room in my car.” He tried to keep his voice casual, but he knew he was very interested in the answer.

  “Yes, I guess I could use one,” she answered, slowing her pace so they could walk down the hallway together. He was aware of her, the inches of air between them feeling warm and alive. He glanced at her face. Her caramel-colored hair was pulled up in a neat, low ponyt
ail, and she wore a light covering of makeup. Her eyes were caramel-colored, too, and when they glanced in his direction, they were filled with intelligence and just a hint of wariness. She was wearing a wrap dress in a geometric print that nipped at the waist and clung a bit to her long, slim legs. Her rich black leather riding boots ended just below her knee, and he could see that she was slim, but strong. Definitely a runner’s body, he thought, and had a brief fantasy of wondering how her long, lean muscles would feel under his touch.

  He decided, as he trailed just a bit behind her, that seeing Tory Somers in a dress, from behind, was a nice bonus to hand-delivering the cars. Then he tamped down on the thought, knowing that it was unprofessional.

  He’d been handed a perfect opportunity, and he could barely keep himself from grinning, let alone doing a little jig of happiness. He’d found himself constantly thinking of her since he’d left her in the parking lot, quick flashes of caramel-colored hair and deep brown eyes coming to him at the oddest times. He’d figured she’d worked here, since there weren’t that many tenants in the building, and he’d had some vague idea of finding out more about her when he’d decided to meet with Chase personally to go over the paperwork for the photo shoot. He just hadn’t expected to run into her first thing. That, he thought, smiling to himself, was fortune smiling down on him.

  He was glad that he’d had a second chance to meet her, this time when he wasn’t in his work clothes. He wasn’t embarrassed that he worked on cars and sometimes he had a bit of grease underneath his fingernails. His mechanical ability had given him his start, and he would always be fascinated by the way an engine worked. But it couldn’t hurt that she got to see him in a different light.

  “Let me get my things together, and then I’ll round up the marketing staff.” Her voice was brisk and businesslike, and he followed her just inside her office, leaning against the door frame and taking an interested look around. She had the standard issue office desk, but a high-end ergonomic chair, one she slid fluidly into. Not one, or two, but three flat screen computer monitors were on her desk, and she pulled out a keyboard and typed something in. He saw the screens flash to life, and she leaned in, peering at them closely, her face scrunched up in a look of intense concentration.