“Yes, I miss you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck so that her limbs had a chance at remaining upright. “But I’m worried about you, Gavin.”
He lifted his mouth from her neck and all her nerve endings screamed in protest. Resting his forehead against hers, his lips curved into a sensuous smile, laugh lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes. “Worried? About me?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Why should you worry about me?”
Because I’m beginning to feel something for you. Her brain made the realization at the same time that her heart did, and the strength of her revelation stunned Ginger. This was supposed to be a casual fling, something to pass the time while she was in Chances Inlet. Nothing more.
“Because—because you’re juggling a million things right now.” She embarrassed herself by stammering. “And I can see it’s taking a toll on you.”
Something flashed in his eyes, the emotion passing too quickly for Ginger to grasp it.
“You have the tenderest heart, Ginger Walsh. But don’t worry about me. This will all be over in nine more days,” he said before taking her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss.
Ginger’s mind began to scatter beneath the assault of his mouth, but not before she realized the internal countdown in her head had stopped weeks ago. She no longer constantly calculated the number of days remaining in Chances Inlet. Doing so would put an end date on her affair with Gavin. But the clock was ticking and she felt its beat deep within in her chest.
“I’m going to miss this,” she gasped as his mouth moved again to her neck.
She felt his smile against her skin. “What? Sneaking around?” He chuckled. “I have to admit, it does add a little spice to things.” He nipped her collarbone. “But I’ll be glad when—”
“Gavin? Are you in there?”
The sound of Audra’s voice, followed by Midas’ bark, startled them both. Gavin mumbled a few choice words before stepping back from her. Ginger’s breath froze in her chest as she realized she was most likely late for her class. He gestured at her to move away from the door. She shook her head, indicating the tent in his crotch. Gavin swore again as Ginger slipped out of the door.
“Gavin, Ginger and I were wondering if you could look at the AC in the main studio. It seems to be putting out warm air.” Audra laid it on thick as she pulled Ginger behind her in the stairwell. She tugged at the long-sleeved T-shirt that was tied around her waist and handed it to Ginger. “Put this on over your shirt, so no one sees that the man just tried to eat you for dinner,” she hissed.
“Thanks, Gavin!” Audra called loudly enough that they probably heard her as far as Pier Pressure. They made their way down the stairs and into the studio where her students—dressed as butterflies and birds—quickly circled her legs with hugs of hello. Ginger barely had time to mouth a thank-you to Audra for her diversion before her young charges were leaping around the studio, their enthusiasm distracting her from pondering Gavin’s unfinished statement.
TWENTY
Gavin walked along Main Street on Friday afternoon, headed for his loft, his cell phone glued to his ear.
“The blueprints are impressive, Gavin,” Kerry Dukakis said. “How soon can you get up here to New Jersey to meet with the contractors?”
A family of tourists stopped in their tracks on the sidewalk when they spotted him. After four weeks of being featured on the Historical Restorations show, Gavin was becoming a celebrity. It didn’t help that Cassidy was tweeting out his every movement to his more than thirty thousand followers.
“My plan is to be there on Monday.” He gave the family a polite wave as he stepped around a sidewalk placard advertising tomorrow’s Founders’ Day parade. Two more days! Gavin had a little more than forty-eight hours left before he could get back to his old life.
“Perfect,” Kerry was saying. “Let’s plan on dinner that night. I have another project in mind that I’d like to discuss with you.”
He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline he used to feel whenever the quarterback handed him the ball during his high school and college days. It was finally up to him again to control the outcome of the game. The direction of my life. After shoring up his dinner plans with Kerry, Gavin rounded the corner toward the old torpedo factory that had served as his temporary office and home for the past two years. A pang of regret swept through his gut at the thought of the McAlister family no longer owning the building. He’d poured a lot of sweat and tears into refurbishing the loft, but it would bring nice profit. Money he could use to put toward a place in New York. The rest of the profit should soften the blow to his family when he revealed his plans to them.
Standing on the curb outside the shared entrance, he glanced up to the small sign for Audra’s Tiny Dancers. He’d have to make sure that the two investors already interested in buying the building would leave the ballet studio intact. Audra had been in business in this town for more than fifteen years. Gavin remembered the day his father carved out a piece of the giant warehouse to create the space for the studio. He was convinced his father had done it to save his mother the daily drive to Wilmington and back for his sister Elle’s dance lessons. At the time, his dad had joked that he liked being a “patron of the arts.”
A flash of bright color caught his eye. Ginger hurried into the vestibule, her hair caught up in a messy knot as she patiently led her young students out onto the sidewalk. The little girls were wearing an array of costumes from butterflies, to ladybugs, to flowers. Giggling and grinning, they each held a hand on to a long rope, with Ginger at the head of the line and Cassidy at the end.
“We’re going to the stage,” one of the girls called out excitedly.
“It’s our dress rehearsal,” Hannah Preston said with a toothless grin.
His breath caught as Ginger’s face lit up with a brilliant smile when she saw him. “Hey, there,” she said, carefully repositioning the antennae on the head of the girl dressed as a bumblebee. “Sorry, but the run-through is closed to spectators. You’re going to have to wait until tomorrow to see our big performance.”
“And then we are gonna be in the parade!” the girls chorused.
“I hope Savannah Rich isn’t afraid of a little competition.” Cassidy winked at him as she went past.
Gavin shook his head with awe as he watched a blossoming Cassidy help direct the girls to the old-fashioned bandstand set up in the town center. If anyone had told him weeks ago that the rebellious teen would be helping with a ballet recital, he never would have believed it. Neither would anyone else in Chances Inlet, for that matter. If he bought into his mother’s bunk about second chances, he might think Cassidy was getting hers, with the help of a very sexy fairy godmother.
Bernice waved at him from the window, demanding he come inside. The McAlister suite had been taken over by Miles’ campaign staff, and Gavin had entered his father’s office only a few times since the day his brother declared his candidacy. He’d just assume it stay that way. Hesitating a moment longer, Gavin enjoyed the view as Ginger sashayed down the sidewalk, her little dancers in tow, singing a song about following the leader.
Midas greeted him at the door to the McAlister offices by dropping a slobbery tennis ball at Gavin’s feet. From the looks of it, the dog was the only one in the room that was happy to see him. Bernice and the mayor stood amid the hustle of Miles’ campaign workers, both women wearing twin scowls on their faces. With the arrival of the soap star only hours away, he would have thought the two would be so excited they’d be breathing into matching paper bags by now.
“Ladies, don’t you look lovely today.” When in doubt, always fish with a compliment. He could thank his father for that tip. Unfortunately, Mayor Skelley and Bernice weren’t buying what Gavin was selling.
“Where’s the declaration that Dresden House is a National Historical Landmark?” the mayor asked without so much as a hello. Bernice’s toe tapped out a staccato beat.
Ah, shit!
Gavin had been so preoccupied wi
th getting the blueprints drafted that he’d forgotten to follow up with Diesel. Not that the producer didn’t already have enough on his own plate. Once Diesel had heard his father would be coming to the wrap show, he’d been stressing like crazy over every aspect of not only the show, but the construction as well. Gavin hadn’t bothered to check with him on the landmark paperwork because he’d been avoiding the producer, as had everyone else.
I’m so close to the finish line.
“I’m sure Diesel has it.” His gut churned with the lie. “I’m headed up there now to meet with the inspectors to get the occupancy permit. I’ll take care of it.”
Both women eyed him warily and he hated the feeling that he was somehow letting them down.
“It’s going to work out,” he said to them as much to himself. “It’s Founders’ Day weekend. Go celebrate. I’ve got this.” And he really hoped that he did.
The inspectors weren’t due to arrive for another half hour, but Gavin made his way up to Dresden House anyway, Midas riding shotgun. He didn’t care how stressed Diesel was right now; he needed that declaration. The mansion was still buzzing with decorators and caterers, getting ready for the wrap party being held after the final episode was filmed tomorrow afternoon. Bucky planned to include footage from Founders’ Day in the last show, so the actual filming that had to be done the next day worked out to be about fifteen minutes, meaning the majority of the production crew was in shut-down mode.
He found Diesel in the production trailer, his feet resting on one of the consoles as his fingers danced over the soundboard.
“One more to go,” Gavin said as he slipped into the seat next to him.
“Believe it or not, I really liked this gig.”
Gavin was pretty sure Diesel’s enjoyment had a lot to do with the voluptuous stained glass artist he’d been sleeping with for the past two months, but he didn’t bother to comment.
“Please tell me you got Dresden House designated a national historical landmark.”
Diesel reached into a backpack on the floor beside him and pulled out a large envelope etched with a gold seal. Gavin blew out the breath he was holding.
“The last piece of the puzzle,” he muttered.
Diesel chuckled. “I thought the escrow check was the final piece.”
The money from the sale of Dresden House would be released to Gavin on Monday. He’d be turning it right over to the bank holding the balloon payment on the Tide Me Over Inn. The contract had been signed months ago, so that step was only a technicality. But Diesel was correct. It was the final piece.
“For someone who’s finally getting everything he wants, you look like hell, man,” Diesel said.
“Right back at you.”
Diesel scrubbed a hand down his face. “If I know my father, I still have a few more coals to walk through barefoot before I get my reward.”
They were both quiet for a moment. Gavin recalled Ginger’s words about Marvin Goldman hating his son. It was a scenario he could scarcely imagine. Sure, there was some sort of feud that had gone on between his brother Ryan and their dad before his death; but Gavin—and Ryan, he was sure—knew their father loved him no matter what. It was difficult imagining growing up in an environment where that bond wasn’t unconditional.
“She didn’t mean any harm,” Gavin finally said, feeling the need to help make amends between Ginger and her friend.
Diesel leaned back in his chair, pondering the ceiling tiles. “I know. She leads with her heart. She always has.”
“She thinks you hate her for this.”
“I could never hate her. I love her.”
The chair squeaked as Gavin’s body tensed involuntarily. He knew the two were close, but he wasn’t all that comfortable with Diesel’s declaration of love.
Diesel’s chuckle spoke volumes. “Your reaction is quite telling, McAlister. Don’t worry. Any affection I have for Ginger is strictly brotherly.” He sat up in his own chair, his gaze piercing Gavin. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t make you miserable if you break her heart.”
The charged silence stretched between them as Gavin held Diesel’s stare. The producer’s words caught him by surprise. Not the part about Diesel protecting Ginger; he’d already proven himself on that score. But Gavin wasn’t sure Ginger’s heart was his to break. Intense as their relationship was, up until this point, it was purely physical. Most of their encounters took place in her suite at the inn, leaving little time for anything more than pillow talk. He had no freaking idea whether her heart was engaged, and the thought bothered him more than he’d like it to.
He’d blindly assumed they’d continue their relationship in New York, minus the stealth. The goal was to get his career back. Having Ginger there along for the ride just made the achievement that much sweeter. Their relationship was here and now; she’d made up that rule that first day in the music room of Dresden House. And there was no reason they couldn’t keep it that way once they got to New York.
Still, his mind wandered back to earlier when he’d watched her guide her class of adorable mini-ballerinas down Main Street wearing a rapturous smile on her face. She’d make an amazing mother. Where the hell had that thought come from? Gavin leaned back against the chair, his palms beginning to sweat. He’d already proved he wasn’t husband material when he’d screwed things up with Amanda. And Ginger was one of the few people who knew how badly he’d done so. She was a smart woman who moved where life took her. No way was she looking for anything more from him.
Diesel’s cell phone vibrated across the console.
“Looks like our inspectors are here. Let’s get this over with so we can both collect that last puzzle piece,” Diesel said, leading the way out of the trailer.
Following him out, Gavin had an uneasy feeling that Diesel had just scrambled the puzzle pieces a bit.
* * *
“So, is she everything you hoped she’d be?” Lamar’s question was spoken softly at her back while Patricia carried a tray of appetizer plates into the inn’s kitchen as Lamar tagged along behind her. Normally, the inn served only breakfast and afternoon tea, but tonight Patricia had pulled out all the stops: Lori’s delicious hors d’oeuvres paired with elegant wine flights and a cupcake chaser. It wasn’t every day she had a network television president as a guest, and she aimed to make the most of it. A good word from Marvin Goldman could boost the reputation of the Tide Me Over Inn to new heights.
“She’s exactly like the character she plays on the show,” Patricia said. “Which leads me to believe she’s as fake as the ten-thousand-dollar bill Jolene has hanging behind the bar at Pier Pressure.”
Lamar leaned a hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that disappointment I hear, Tricia?” He chuckled as she scowled at him.
“It’s just easier to detect her falseness after having had Ginger around all these weeks,” she said. “She’s pretty much as honest as it gets.”
One of Lamar’s eyebrows arched up.
“Okay, okay. But I don’t deserve to be lumped in with the rest of this town. My original hesitation about Ginger had nothing to do with the character she played on that soap opera. I just didn’t want her breaking Gavin’s heart.” She refilled the platter of cupcakes. “Obviously, there was nothing I could do to prevent that.”
“Come again?” Lamar asked.
She patted him on the chest. “Don’t play dumb with me, Sheriff. Even if I hadn’t seen him sneaking in and out of here these past few weeks, one look at him mooning over her in the next room would tell you everything you need to know. I have no idea what he’s been doing in Wilmington, but I’m sure that it does not involve a woman. One thing I know about my boys is that they are monogamous.”
“You’re not upset about their relationship?”
Patricia breathed a melancholy sigh as she pulled dessert plates out of the dishwasher and stacked them on another tray. “I’m sad that he’ll be left behind once again. But he knew that going in, didn’t he? As
much as I overreacted when Ginger first arrived, they’re both adults and can make decisions for themselves. If I want that same respect from my children, I have to give it, don’t I?”
“Come here,” Lamar growled.
Stretching up on her toes, she kissed him. The familiar surge of delight she felt whenever she was in his arms never ceased to amaze her. “Besides,” she whispered against his lips. “New York isn’t that far away. They can work it out if they want to. They don’t call this the town of second chances for nothing.”
Lamar’s warm gaze held hers. His hand worked its way up and down her back, brushing the silky fabric of her dress along her skin. “I wish this party was over,” he said, his voice thick and arousing.
Deputy Lovell’s voice in her ear made her jump back. “Boss, what’s your twenty?”
Lamar pressed a button on the communications microphone he wore on his shirtfront. “I’m at the inn.”
“Can you take a pass around the town square? I’ve got to head up toward the highway and Pettijohn is cruising down by the wharf area.”
“Ten-four,” Lamar said.
“You have everyone out on patrol tonight?” There was little chance of any major crime happening in their small town, but Patricia still worried every time Lamar was alone in his cruiser.
“It’s a busy weekend. Lots of folks are in town for Founders’ Day and the shindig at Dresden House. I just want to make sure there aren’t any incidents.” He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “I’ll probably be late tonight. Would you rather I stay at my place?”
“No, I would not.” She kissed him again. “I’ll see you later.”
Miles let out an exasperated sigh from the hallway, alerting them to his presence. Lamar didn’t flinch beneath her son’s frosty gaze. With a nod, he headed out the back door toward his cruiser. Ignoring Miles, Patricia piled the platter of cupcakes and the dessert dishes onto a tray.
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