Island Thyme Cafe (Madrona Island Series Book 3)

by Andrea Hurst

  Peyton stood and scrutinized the café. “I just realized I’m not hungry after all.” She turned without another word and let the door slam behind her as she left.

  Heat raced through Jude’s limbs and burrowed into her racing heart. Ryan had some explaining to do. She threw open the kitchen doors and walked over to Ryan who was slumped over the stove stirring his special clam chowder in a large pot. His face was drawn and she hesitated before speaking.

  He turned off the flame and finally turned to look at her, but she recognized that faraway look he sometimes had, especially when they’d first met.

  “Just how well did you know Peyton?” Jude asked.

  “It was a long time ago,” he said. “Trust me, it’s over.”

  With that he walked over to the industrial refrigerator and began mechanically putting away food from lunch.

  Jude stood and watched him go through the mechanical motions. Trust him? She had let her guard down and begun to trust again. And here she was, precariously balancing between a man she really didn’t know and a beautiful woman who was obviously still in the picture.

  Ryan threw off his chef’s coat and hung it behind the door. It had been a few days since Peyton had made her entrance at the café and he was hoping it would be her last. Yet the actress had haunted his thoughts ever since. The pain on Jude’s face when Peyton finally left the café had killed him, and he hated himself just a little bit more for putting her through that.

  The lunch rush wouldn’t start for a few hours and he needed a break. Badly.

  “Sierra, can you take over the prep from here?”

  “Sure, Chef,” the new kitchen helper answered.

  He walked out the back door and headed toward the cove to clear his head in the fresh, early morning air. Wires were strewn everywhere as the crew busily set up lights and put props into place for the day’s shoot. Ryan waved at Marco as he passed the long line in front of his coffee cart on the sidewalk outside Books, Nooks, and Coffee. The stand was mobbed. Great idea that young man had.

  Rays of sunshine spread across his face and shoulders as he briskly walked down the wooden planks to the end of the pier. A blue heron perched on one of the pilings, still as a painting, while gulls screamed across the sky dropping mussels on the pier to crack open for lunch. Ryan leaned on the railing overlooking the water and exhaled the pent up tension he had been holding for days.

  He’d once thought, in an alcohol-and drug-induced daze, that he loved Peyton. Even now, the warmth of her body near him had stirred memories. But Ryan was no longer the up-and-coming-chef hungry for fame and fortune. Nor was he dazzled by the charms of Peyton Chandler, a creature of physical perfection so breathtaking no man was immune. Like the sirens of old whose enchanting songs led sailors astray toward their deaths, she had almost been the death of him. And now, when he was finally happy, his past was creeping up on him, like the tide below, to wash him out to sea.

  He’d heard that she was separated from Todd Chase, so what was she scheming for now? When they’d lived together in San Francisco a few years back, Ryan couldn’t believe the lying and games Peyton played with him and others. It never phased her conscience, no matter the pain her actions caused. They’d be shopping in some high-end store and she would steal stuff under his nose and then gloat gleefully when she showed him what she got away with.

  What did she want now and how did he play into her spider’s web? His stomach turned and beads of sweat broke out across his brow. He did not want to stick around for the next few weeks to find out. He’d run far to find the kind of people and life he wanted, a place he fit, and he’d finally found it on Madrona Island. He couldn’t just take off now and leave Jude with this mess. He was done running and done with that crazy life, just like Kyla had been when she’d run from New York and the modeling scene. She might have some advice for him.

  Ryan gazed out at the jagged peaks of Mount Baker towering against the backdrop of the azure sky and counted his blessings. He was grateful that he’d found this place. A lone kayaker paddled rhythmically across the still water.

  “Pretty darn nice day,” Betty said as her little dog Zinger dragged her toward Ryan.

  Ryan reached down and scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Good boy,” he said.

  Betty shook her head vigorously, her silver white hair catching in the wind. “Don’t tell him that. He’ll want a treat.”

  “Bring him by the café later. I’ll give him some scraps or a good bone.”

  Betty stood beside him and muffled a cough. “You look deep in thought, young man.”

  “What do you do when your past catches up to you?” he said meeting Betty’s eyes.

  She cocked her head. “Depends what kind of man you are.”

  What kind of man was he? The kind that thrived on blinding flashbulbs and reporters swarming? The kind that was blinded by the instant fame as the boy-toy-chef of a famous actress? The fast-track life of drinking and drugging, of Peyton’s lying and cheating, all led him down the road to that last night. She’d gone too far and he had walked out with total disgust for himself and her, shutting the door on that life forever.

  One eyebrow arched, Betty looked at him waiting for an answer.

  “I know the man I want to be,” Ryan said.

  “Then be it!” Betty said, patting him on the back. She gave the dog’s leash at tug. “Come on Zinger, let’s hit the road.”

  Ryan watched her scurry along the pier trying to keep pace with the curly-haired red dog. In her late seventies and she could still run circles around most people. That woman was a marvel. What you saw was what you got. He wished he could be that transparent.

  Maybe he could put his past behind him and finally be happy.

  Peyton always found a way to get what she wanted. But not this time.

  Chapter Six

  Jude wiped down the counter of the old oak bar that had seen many a year. She turned around and emptied glasses left by customers into the sink, and then placed them in the dishwasher bin. The volume of tourists coming in for lunch, on top of the movie crew, was keeping them busy beyond their comfort zone. It was almost 4:00 p.m. and she and Ryan had to leave to meet the shuttle for her daughter Lindsey in a few hours. She was half ready to lock the doors and put a sign out saying they were closed for dinner when the front door burst open. Jude looked over with dread.

  “It’s me again, I’m afraid,” Grandpa John said.

  Jude smiled. “C’mon in. You’re always welcome.” He was looking pretty exhausted and probably needed a good meal after being an extra all day on the film. And she always loved his company.

  Betty, dressed in work clothes, scooted in behind him. “Got room for one more?”

  Jude waved them over to the bar, but not before putting the closed sign in the window. If anyone complained, she would remind them they operated on island time here.

  “Why don’t you two sit at the bar, and I will wait on you personally.”

  Betty climbed up on a stool and sighed. “This extra work takes a lot out of me. All that sitting around and waiting for them to finally film the scene about drove me crazy today.”

  Grandpa John winked at Jude. “I kind of like being paid for doing nothing. Lots of ‘hurry up and wait’.” He opened the menu Jude had put before him. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in for an early dinner. I hate to bother Lily, with the baby and all. Plus the Inn is full and those cast members seem to always need something.”

  “You’re right about that,” Betty said. “Shirley encourages them to come by our house and ask questions anytime.”

  “Questions?” Jude asked.

  “You know, about where to eat, drink, fish, that kind of thing. Mostly it’s the crew. The cast doesn’t bother with us locals much. And that Peyton, it’s like ‘the Queen Herself’ arriving when she appears on set.”

  Jude placed an i
ced tea with a sprig of lemon and thyme in front of both of them. “On the house,” she said. “I heard they are using the 100 foot yacht for filming out off the pier tomorrow.”

  Grandpa John sipped his tea. “Murder and mayhem,” he said flashing a smile. “From what I overheard, the leading man, a magician, and his wife sail into the small seaport when the magician becomes mysteriously ill. Joe tells me the local ambulance has been repainted for the scene where they rush the guy to the hospital.”

  “Peyton, of course, is cast as a murderess, I presume?” Jude said.

  “Oh yeah,” Betty said. “And after someone tips off the magician, he escapes by night in a sailboat and the chase begins.”

  Ryan came out from the kitchen, wearing his black chef coat. Jude noticed his face looked drawn and he did not make eye contact with her.

  “I thought I heard voices out here.” Ryan walked over and shook Grandpa John’s hand. “How’s it going?”

  “Just fine with me, but Betty’s all tuckered out.”

  Jude looked closely at Betty. The dark circles under her eyes and the pale translucence of her skin looked like more than just fatigue.

  “I’m fine. I could run circles around any of you,” Betty said.

  A dry cough followed Betty’s words and it lingered just a bit too long for Jude’s liking. She doubted Betty had set foot in a doctor’s office for a long time.

  Grandpa John laid his menu down on the counter and looked over at Ryan. “Any chef’s specials tonight?”

  “For you two,” Ryan said, “The skies the limit. How about a plate of my freshly made lemon thyme chicken over linguini?”

  Betty tossed her menu down. “Sold.”

  Grandpa John nodded his affirmation.

  Ryan turned and headed back to the kitchen. Later, in the car, perhaps. Maybe he would open up to her about what was on his mind when they were alone.

  “Glass of wine? A beer with dinner?” Jude asked.

  “Not tonight,” Grandpa John said. “I’m not sure I could stay awake to drive us both home. I bet you’re ready to call it a day yourself.”

  Jude took a seat beside them and kicked off her shoes. “The movie people can be hard to please at times.”

  Grandpa John sipped his water. “I see Peyton popping in and out of here a lot. She must like the food.”

  “It’s not the food she’s interested in,” Jude said. “It’s Ryan.”

  Grandpa John placed his hand over Jude’s. “Try not to let it bother you too much. It’s obvious Ryan is only interested in you, and they’ll all be gone in a few weeks.”

  Jude hoped he was right, but the knot in her gut said otherwise.

  Ryan was glad he had offered to drive Jude to get Lindsey at the airport shuttle. Jude twisted her hands in her lap and stared out the window. He’d never seen her this nervous.

  “How long has it been since Lindsey’s been to the island?” he asked.

  Jude turned her head toward him. “If you mean for longer than a day, it’s been a long time.”

  He listened quietly as she told him how heartbreaking it had been when her fifteen-year-old daughter had decided to go live with her rich father and his new young wife. Ryan could only imagine how devastated Jude had been. He could understand a teenager being bored on this small island, but he could not understand the betrayal and callousness Lindsey showed when she left her mother behind.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through this,” he said.

  Her brave smile was one of the things he liked about Jude. She worked to overcome her obstacles and find happiness wherever she was.

  They pulled the car into the parking lot just as the shuttle arrived. Jude fidgeted in her seat.

  He’d not brought the topic of Peyton into the conversation, because it would just add more stress in to an already tense situation.

  Ryan walked around the car and opened the door for her. He forced a smile. “Surely the two of us can handle one little teenager.”

  Jude took his hand and stepped out on the gravel pavement. “Don’t count on it,” she said.

  People exited the shuttle slowly, but there was no teenage girl in sight. Ryan looked straight ahead, willing her to appear. Taking her own sweet time, a young woman in cut-off denim shorts, a flimsy t-shirt hanging off one shoulder, and wearing strappy sandals slowly made her way down the stairs. She carried a pink backpack with the word MOM in black letters printed on it. Maybe there was hope after all. As she sauntered closer, Ryan realized the backpack displayed the brand, MCM. Lindsey made no eye contact as she stood by the back of the shuttle texting on her phone. Her entrance did not bode well with him, nor could he imagine with Jude.

  Lindsey pushed her long blonde hair out of her eyes and finally looked up. Ryan could see the resemblance to her mother. She nodded toward them as if she was ready for them to retrieve her luggage. Jude walked toward her and Ryan followed slowly behind to let them have a little a moment alone.

  Jude reached over to hug Lindsey and she leaned her head to the side to let her. “How was your trip?” Jude asked.

  Lindsey pulled her long hair off her neck. “Hot and long.”

  The driver placed Lindsey’s suitcase down next to them and Ryan scooted in to retrieve it.

  “Who’s this?” Lindsey asked.

  “This is Ryan,” Jude said. “He’s the chef at the café and a friend.”

  He put out his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

  Lindsey eyed him suspiciously and then managed a weak handshake. She looked over at her mom. “You look different,” she said.

  “I do?”

  Lindsey shrugged.

  “How about we take off?” Ryan said. He walked over and put the suitcase in the trunk. He waited for everyone to get in and buckle up before driving back toward Jude’s water view apartment above the café. He had the small single apartment next to hers that faced the street, so it was an easy drive home.

  “Anyone hungry?” he asked.

  “Sort of,” Lindsey said. “What’s good here?”

  Jude flashed a hopeful look at Ryan.

  Ryan laughed. “The best food on the island is at Island Thyme Café, if I do say so myself.”

  “You would say that,” Lindsey said.

  “I’ll let you be the judge. I hear you like fine dining and cook a bit yourself.”

  Lindsey glared at him in the rearview mirror then pulled out her phone and started typing away. She was not going to make things any easier in their lives, but he was not going to let her get away with making things worse.

  “You’ll be working in the kitchen with Ryan this summer,” Jude said.

  “Dad gave me his credit card,” Lindsey mumbled, eyes engrossed in her phone. “I don’t need the money.”

  “I wasn’t planning on paying you,” Jude said. “It will be good for you to get involved, learn about cooking and be a part of things here.”

  Lindsey bolted, suddenly paying full attention. “What? I have to spend the summer here, deal with being dumped by my boyfriend, and now I have to work too?”

  “That’s how it goes,” Ryan said.

  Quiet permeated the car as Ryan pulled into the driveway to park. Jude was nervously biting her bottom lip and Ryan wanted to kiss it and make it better. He didn’t dare look in the rearview mirror.

  “Fine,” Lindsey finally said. She flung open her door and got out. With a huff, she walked up the stairs to Jude’s apartment.

  Ryan carried her oversized suitcases and put them in Lindsey’s room before returning to the living room. He sat down on the couch next to Jude and rested his arm gently around her shoulders.

  Lindsey was curled up in the overstuffed chair across from them. “Awfully friendly for an employee,” she said. “You two dating or something?”

  Jude smiled. “We are. For a little while now.”<
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  Lindsey shrugged. “No wonder you look different.” Her phone chimed and Lindsey pulled it out and started texting again. They no longer existed to her.

  Ryan winked at Jude and got to his feet. “Let me know if you need anything. I guess I’ll be going now. Let you settle in. Nice to meet you, Lindsey. I’ll see you in the kitchen at 6:00 a.m. for prep tomorrow. We have a film crew coming in at 8:00 sharp.”

  “You have to be kidding,” Lindsey said, jumping out of her seat. “I just got here and need some sleep.”

  Ryan stood firm. “When it comes to work, I don’t kid.”

  Lindsey looked to her mother.

  “He’s the boss when it comes to the kitchen,” Jude said.

  “Some welcome home,” Lindsey said. “Any other surprises?”

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get much time to talk after you sent your email,” Jude said. “Perhaps tomorrow we can do some catching up?”

  “Fine, whatever.” Lindsey turned and headed to her room.

  Ryan kissed Jude on the cheek. “Get some sleep. I’ll let myself out.”

  This was one night he was glad he was sleeping in his own place.

  Chapter Seven

  Jude woke to the sound of Lindsey slamming things around in the guest bathroom. She propped up in bed and took a deep breath. It meant everything to her to try to rebuild her relationship with Lindsey this summer, but since living with her father the girl’s attitude had changed, and not for the better. She remembered the sweet, curly blonde-haired daughter she’d pushed on the swings in Grandview Park. The little girl who loved to bake cookies with her mommy and be read the nighttime fairy book at bedtime. They’d always been so close until Mitchell decided he wanted to be back in the picture. He’d so totally abandoned them when Lindsey was little that Jude had almost forgotten about him. But not Lindsey. She wanted to know her father. Jude couldn’t blame her and had purposely said nothing negative about her dad, just that he was a very busy man. It was a perfect storm the year Lindsey had turned fifteen and Mitchell remarried. None the less, Jude was determined to find a way to bond with her daughter this summer.