by Jill Jaynes
“Hey, you.” The publisher of the Moonlight Cove Gazette had a column going about helicopter noise. Noise resulted from the Bikini Babes filming.
“So, Maggie.” Lily’s curiosity had gone way past the need-to-know stage. “Who authorized the helipad?”
Maggie let out a slow breath. “The FAA agreed to use a field twenty years ago.”
“For the fire, correct?”
“That’s right. For natural disasters we need one, but we didn’t plan on jackhammer-racket.” Noise from twin-engine helicopters rattled windows and knocked pictures off walls.
“Bummer!” declared a loud male voice. Dan White directed Bikini Babes and everybody else in town. “Don’t get your panties in a tangle, gals.”
Once again, Lily thought, How fitting. The last time Lily had the ear-numbing pleasure of this guy’s company was when he’d raged with a UPS guy who’d parked in front of Hamasaki Quality Pens. The UPS guy happened to be David Lewys, a struggling artist who made deliveries part-time. That day, White had his crew filming the babes as they picked out supplies to send cards to fans.
White seemed to argue with everyone in Moonlight Cove. Wait, correction. It didn’t seem that way. It was that way.
He said, “We’re getting new choppers. You’ll notice a change. With a lower subsonic frequency, they’ll sound like electric fans.”
“Liar,” Maggie said, unfazed.
Lily’s phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID. “Hey, Lupe,” she said to her head waitress. “What’s up?”
“A truck is parked near the garbage cans in the back. The marine layer is dense. I don’t recognize it.” Lupe’s voice carried, and Maggie cringed.
Maggie latched her hands on her hips. “A truck parked behind the motel just before it was sprayed with paint. A private investigator told me about it. I’ll call him.”
“Wouldn’t hurt, thanks,” Lily said and sped down the hill.
* * *
Creed thought it something of a coincidence when he saw Lily dash across Port Drive. She’d just appeared in his mind. Out for a stroll with Fritz, his dog tugged at the leash. As soon as Creed unlatched it, Fritz tore into the dense fog, and Creed raced to keep up.
A bark came from behind the bistro.
Creed spotted Lily standing beside the trash bins. Fritz growled a warning of a hostile target.
It was then Creed recognized Dick Sloan on the ground. “What did you do to him, Fritz?” He peered down into a pair of closed eyes. Only a throbbing pulse on the side of the loan shark’s neck gave any indication of life.
“How badly are you hurt?” Creed asked, not thinking of anything else to say.
“Bloody hell, your dog knocked the wind out of me and ruined my back,” Sloan gasped between clenched teeth.
Lily screamed, “Creed. Are you okay?” Other things she said didn’t make sense. A string of words about Scarlett and Dick were only remotely connected to what was happening until he saw Scarlett.
She held a spray can of red paint. Behind her, scrawled on the bistro wall were the words, You’re dead.
An outside observer stood by. Private Investigator William Bradford commented on the play-by-play. “Scarlett Royale and Dick Sloan, you will face charges for vandalism.”
“Drat, my ratings will sink,” Scarlett said, her face filled with anguish.
Lily stepped forward. “Scarlett, I won’t press charges if you do two things for me.”
“Anything,” she muttered. “What’s the first?”
“Every Kwik Kash loanee gets a new rate of five percent.”
Scarlett looked at Dick, now up from the ground.
Dick bore the agony radiating from his back. “Vinnie. He’s the only one, and yes.”
A whisper of wind rustled Lily’s yellow dress. Fog lifted a bit, and she smiled at him. “Are you ready to hear the second thing, Scarlett?”
“Go ahead with it.”
“Let Creed go. You’re with Dick.” Lily turned to Creed. “I want a crack at the new second grade teacher in town.”
Creed looked into her eyes, and they sparkled like stars.
“No problem, our engagement is off.” Scarlett walked away, followed by Dick.
“Hold on, you two,” P.I. William Bradford called after them. “First we make a stop at Vinnie’s.”
“Well done.” The excitement within Creed was more than he could contain.
Lily, with her head high and glorious aloofness engraved on her pretty face, said, “I’ve got paint.”
“I can paint,” Creed said.
“Let’s get started. Your class field trip is tomorrow. I don’t want the kids to see that graffiti.”
Chapter 3
Ten o’clock, Monday morning, marked the beginning of the field trip. He’d invited his parents along, and they filed in with the kids. Last night, after learning Scarlett was marrying Dick Sloan, their world flipped on its axis and rotated the other way. He figured out the best way to right it was to give them chaperone jobs.
Spotting Lily, he said, “Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Lily Holmes.”
Lily shook his mom’s hand, and then his dad’s. “Thank you for helping out, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.
Creed handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “For expenses, Lily.”
“It’s not—”
“—it is, please take it.” Lily was one independent woman, Creed thought. Guess she had to be, living upstairs and running the bistro. It seemed to kill her when he’d handed her money.
Lily pushed back the hair escaping from a rubber band over her ear. “Welcome, second graders!” She beamed as his thirty students lined-up. “Thank you for not touching anything.”
“No harm looking,” Creed said, “but why will we use the ‘no touching’ rule?” He saw Katie’s hand shoot up. “Katie?”
“It could be hot or sharp.” Her red hair could use combing, and she wore the same t-shirt as yesterday.
Lily’s quizzical eyes shifted around the room. “Is anyone lactose intolerant?”
Billy Bradford raised his hand.
“Good to know,” she said. “Who wants a tuna and who wants a grilled cheese?”
“Mom and Dad,” Creed said, “would you please get head counts?”
Within minutes Lily, wearing a crisp white apron with a lily pad motif, had two food stations set up. “Who can help me name ingredients?” She waited while the kids called out answers.
The class gathered around the counter in admiration of the restaurant-size tuna cans, gigantic jar of mayonnaise, and big bowl of chopped cucumber, parsley and lettuce. Leaving space between stations, she set out slices of American cheese and thin slices of tomato. “Both sandwiches are made with this flax and sunflower bread.” She held up a whole loaf. “I buy bread from a local baker.”
“Notice, class,” Creed said. “The loaf is not sliced. Sliced bread goes stale faster than loaves left unsliced.”
“Correct, Mr. Taylor.” She dropped the loaf into a commercial slicer and spoke above the whirring grind. “I slice a loaf at a time.”
A man in a chef hat sauntered in. “Who loves a great sandwich?”
“We do.” Creed answered for the class.
“Please meet Chef Moreno, everybody. He will make sandwiches for us.” Lily said. “Follow me to the smoothie machine.” She waved them over. She placed bananas, blueberries, honey, and orange juice into the gigantic blender and then dropped in ice cubes. “Scrumptious smoothies coming up! Hold your ears.” The blender roared, and after she pushed stop, she said, “A smoothie is like a magic potion. It makes you feel great.”
She’s engaged, interested. Not all about herself. Ever since he’d met her, Creed felt as if he were spinning in a seasick blender, filled with salty roaring sea air, wave noise, and an oddly claustrophobic sensation of his upcoming engagement. Now he was free.
Lily’s eyes twinkled. “We’re lining up to wash our hands, Mr. Taylor.” As she squirted dish soap in their hands, little bubbles rose in th
e air.
Creed said, “Class, let’s sing Hippo in my Tub while you wash up.” Creed sang with them while he gazed around. The bare wooden floor hadn’t been refinished for ages. The incongruous lace curtains hung for privacy from the street. The room had a claw-foot table in the corner for eating. Surfaces were spotless.
One by one, Lily and Chef Moreno passed out sandwiches and smoothies.
An older waitress introduced herself as Lupe. “Follow me. We’ll eat here.” She gestured to the shady side-yard.
“Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, we have a table set up for you. It’s right next to the lily pond.”
His parents were all smiles and thanked her for the best seats in the house. Lupe served them sandwiches.
Lily said, “Class, you can sit on the ledge. If you look closely, you might see a koi fish.” Turning to Creed, she grinned. “Here are two extra sandwiches. Pick the one you want.”
“I’d like to try half of each. Thank you, Lily,” he said.
“As hard as you worked painting yesterday, you deserve three halves.” She took a half grilled cheese for herself and then moved to nestle between kids on the ledge.
Lily was just what he needed. She made him happy and made him laugh. Creed turned his attention to the class. “What’s that noise? Anybody?” No one answered. “Can you help us out, Miss Lily Holmes?”
“Flipping tail-fins,” she said. “The fish swim fast when nibbling on my lily pads.”
He’d like to nibble on her. “How can you prevent the fish from eating all your lily pads?”
His parents stood to look.
“I sink the pots holding the plants deep,” she said. “There’s some nibbling, but the larger pads survive better underwater.”
“I learned something today,” his dad said.
Creed had a sixth sense when I came to danger. “Katie, careful you don’t fall in,” he warned before her face smacked the surface. Water splashed over the ledge.
His mom was the closest and darted over. Her arms came around Katie’s shoulders, and she pulled her close.
“Good save, Mrs. Taylor,” Lily said. “I have t-shirts for all of you. Katie needs hers now.” She glanced at Creed. “Go ahead and let the class feed the fish. Everybody can give them a tiny bite of crust.” She took Katie’s hand. “We’ll be right back.”
In her absence, he and the two chaperones organized the fish feeding party. A few minutes passed before Lily appeared with thirty t-shirts and Katie with hair in two pony tails.
Lily was like coming home, and his heart skipped at that smile of hers. “Put those on my tab.”
“The hundred-dollar bill more than covers it.”
“It’s time for us to head back to school. Mom and Dad, thanks for helping out.”
“Super fun,” his dad said.
“It was just great, Lily.” His mother looked like there was no place she’d rather be. Mom looked nice in a summer red dress that gave society women a run for their money. She cuddled in close with Dad as they waved goodbye.
Creed had so much to tell Lily. They’d make time for that.
“Thank you for coming.” Lily glided around, high-fiving the kids as they filed out.
He gave her a high-five as well but wanted to give her a hug. “Can I drag you to dinner tonight?” He watched her hazel eyes rove over the beach. There was a light mist hanging over the water.
“It touches me deeply, you asking me out. What time?”
“Seven. Can we meet at Vinnie’s?” A productive first step, he thought.
* * *
Creed checked his watch at a table for two at Vinnie’s. He straightened his tie with one hand and smoothed his hair with the other. Scowling, he took a sip of his scotch. If she didn’t show up in a few minutes, he’d go looking for her. The past twenty-four hours nearly killed him. To have been so close to Lily while painting, but not touching her because delivery people arrived, and then the dinner crowd nearly killed him.
He knew the moment she entered the restaurant. He felt the nearly magnetic charge in the air. His gaze locked on her, and when she smiled, everything inside him tightened. Tonight she wore a lilac dress with skinny straps that snaked across her shoulders. The black pumps she wore had three-inch heels. Her legs looked amazing.
She took his breath away.
He made his way to her and pulled her in for a kiss. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You make me feel beautiful.” She lifted one hand to her lips and said, “I like the kiss you left there.”
Oh, yeah. He couldn’t imagine how he’d kept from touching her for so long. His heart filled, his mind raced, and he said, “I had the idiotic idea to go slowly with you. All I want to do is snatch you up and never let you go.”
“Creed, Lily.” Vinnie hurried up to them. “Bradford told me.”
“It worked out?” Lily asked.
“Sure did.” Vinnie shoved a hand through his thinning hair. “The interest rate went way down. Bradford said you both had a hand in that.”
Lily smiled. “We stick up for each other around here.”
“Let me get you some wine,” Vinnie continued, and his voice softened. “Dinner is on the house.”
“Serving gnocchi with prosciutto?” Creed asked. “I’ve been looking forward to that all day.”
“That does sound good,” Lily said.
“Coming right up,” Vinnie said and was off and running.
Creed looked at her, and she said, “God, you look good.”
“I’ve been thinking about us.” He took a deep breath and held it. “I’m going to get it right this time.”
“We’re already connected.” A smile hovered at her mouth, and she took his hand and squeezed. “I’m good at plans and don’t mind if we rush things.”
“I don’t want to take my time either. I’m going to tell you how it’s going to be between us.” He laid both hands on her shoulders. “I love you. I always will.”
“Creed—”
“Let me finish.” His heart was beating so fast it was a wonder she didn’t hear it. “I’m not a minimalist anymore.”
“No?”
“There’s a house for sale on a cliff overlooking the cove. The view is stupendous and leads down a moonlight path. If you want kids, we’ll have plenty of room. Want to take a look tomorrow?”
“Of course I do.”
He yanked her in close, so close he could feel her heart thundering as fast and furiously as his own. “I want you with me always.”
“We need each other.” She held him tight. “I’m going to love you… so hard.” She smoothed her hand down his hip, and it stopped over his pocket. “What’s in there, besides you?”
Drat. These were the pants he wore when he asked for the engagement ring back. “A ring. Scarlett—”
“—returned it? If you bought it, I’d love to have it.” Lily extended her delicate hand.
Creed pulled it out, slipped it onto her fourth finger, and said, “Will you marry me?”
“Ask me louder.”
“Will you marry me, Lily Holmes?” he shouted. “Is that loud enough?” He pulled her in for a deep kiss.
She opened her mouth just a little for a tongue tangle. “Marrying you is precisely what I want. Wake up every morning with you in my bed.”
He kissed her again and then took a breath. “I’m supposed to get down on a knee and ask you.”
“No need for that, Creed Taylor.” She reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm.
He turned his face into her palm and kissed it.
Soon everyone in the bar surrounded them.
Mr. Valentine was the first to offer his good wishes. “It’s good to see you two are reveling in the promise of love.” Following him, Nick and Maggie, Thomas and Chloe, David and Leonie, and Jackson and Patrice stepped up. Row apologized for her one-and-only being stuck at the Honey Bee.
Creed thanked them for their sentiments.
Lily smiled up at him and turned to their fr
iends, “This is more than I could have ever dreamed of. Creed, let me get my purse.”
--- # # # ---
Book Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with a sizzling love story sure to melt their hearts. Some are sweet: Lily’s Pad and the Intervenus Series: A Brand New Address and Betrayal at Crater’s Edge. Her Under the Wire Series is ultra-hot. Deadly Alliance and her work-in-progress, Unholy Alliance, are contracted with Tirgearr Publishing. Other romantic suspense books are available.
Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels. She grew up in Iowa, where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji. Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California.
Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband in their 1970’s poolside retreat in Southern California, where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors. While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write. If you’d enjoy news, sign up for Kathleen’s newsletter at www.KathleenRowland.com.
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Valentine’s Vacation (epilog)
by A.G. Reid
Chapter Five
Valentine entered the hotel, followed by Marcella, with Sahayak riding inside Valentine’s jacket pocket. Valentine stopped to brush the raindrops from his clothing just inside the entrance.
The lobby floor was a polished brown red tile that gleamed in the soft white lights overhead. Large arches defined where the lobby ended and various areas of the hotel began. Dark oak tables held large vases of flowers and greenery at the juncture where the arches met.
“Do you think Erica and Brett are here?” Marcella asked.
“No, the storm hit first further north. They’ll need to return this way from where the road washed out to find the hotel.” Valentine walked toward the front desk.