Love Makes the Difference (Sully Point Book 1)

by Nicole Smith

  Love Makes the Difference

  Book One of the Sully Point Series

  by

  Nicole Smith

  Copyright 2012 by Nicole Smith

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, characters, events, locations, or businesses is purely coincidental.

  To my best friend Rachelle,

  for all the years of laughter

  and many more to come.

  Chapter 1

  Anna watched him cross the street and come into the bakery--six feet tall with sun-bleached blond hair hanging over a chiseled handsome face--and thought she'd never seen such an intensely masculine, utterly compelling work of art as the one walking toward her.

  His name was Samuel Carter and he'd been living in the little town of Sully Point, Massachusetts for a few weeks. The gossip had run rampant through every little shop on Main Street and on cell phones throughout the county as people tried to discover just who he was and what he was doing in their small town. Guesses ran from entrepreneur to con man to movie producer, and still nobody had any hard information.

  She started and realized she'd been staring when she heard him call her name.

  "Excuse me, Anna? Is that your name?"

  "Yes, but how did you know?"

  With a smile he said, "Your nametag."

  "Oh, I'm sorry, how can I help you?" Mortified, she felt herself blush.

  He tilted his head and looked at her for a few seconds, then asked, "Were those rolls made today?" He pointed to the big yeast rolls in the basket behind her.

  "Yes, we make our bread items every day. Would you like some?"

  "I'd like two. They told me at the hotel this bakery had some great rolls. I figured to go to the deli and get something to make a couple of sandwiches for lunch."

  "If you go there, just tell Deb what you want on your sandwiches and give her the rolls and she'll make it up for you." Anna bagged the rolls and moved to the register. As he pulled out his wallet and fingered through large bills, she took the time to focus on his hands. They looked strong and tanned as if he'd spent time outdoors. She wondered if he'd gone out fishing on one of the rental yachts at the marina, and could just see him standing at the wheel of some big boat--

  "Miss? Anna?"

  Oh no, she'd done it again. "Sorry, sorry, Mr. Carter. I don't know where my head is at today."

  "You know my name?"

  Flustered, she waved a hand around vaguely. "Pretty much everyone in town knows your name. It's a small town and you're new here, so, of course, people are guessing what you do, why you're here, that kind of thing. It's just how small towns are."

  "Ah, I see. Well, since I know your name, you should feel free to call me Sam. And your last name--Anna what?"

  "Grainger. Anna Grainger."

  "I've heard that last name before," he said, brow crinkled in thought. "Yes, I know, the hardware store--Grainger's Hardware. Is that your father?"

  "Yes, Dad owns the hardware store and my brother Cody owns the Bait and Tackle shop at the docks."

  "And do you own the bakery?"

  "Me?" Anna laughed and shook her head, thinking how strange it was to be talking to the mystery man. "No, that would be my sister Holly. I'm just the baker. It was either this or become a candlestick maker."

  He laughed. "Do you like baking?"

  "Yes. It's fun to create something that pleases people."

  "Yeah, that's true."

  She looked into his dark brown eyes. "Do you create something that pleases people, too?"

  His eyes shifted to one side. "Just saying it makes sense to me. That you would enjoy making people happy. You seem like a person who wants to see people happy.”

  She thought he sounded a bit like he was floundering in what he was saying, like he'd misspoken and was trying to cover it up. Strange.

  "Well, thanks for the rolls. I'd better be getting my lunch. I hope I see you again, Anna Grainger." He smiled and she felt that damn blush creeping on again.

  "You're welcome, Sam Carter," she said with a tentative smile.

  He left the bakery and she stared after him. I actually spoke to him, she thought. And he smiled at me. No, no, she definitely was not going there. Anna knew well enough there was no way he could be interested in her. Once he got a good look at Holly, he wouldn't notice Anna at all. Holly was her beautiful sister, head cheerleader in high school, the prom queen, popular in college. When she'd come back to Sully Point and opened the bakery, everyone had known it would be a success because it was Holly doing it.

  Anna sighed. Holly was a kind and generous sister. When Anna left college after only three semesters, Holly had been the one in the family to offer a job without any recriminations. Holly wanted to move on to bigger things and the bakery was a good, stable job for Anna. Knowing Anna's lifelong passion was her art, Holly didn't care if she kept a sketchpad at the bakery.

  The thing about Holly was that nobody could ever resent her because of her good nature. Comparing yourself to her was a pointless exercise. Sam Carter could never be interested in Anna, she knew. She was the plainer, quirky sister. No, if Sam met Holly it wouldn't be at all surprising if he was interested in her.

  The timer went off and Anna walked back to the kitchen ovens to take out trays of chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies. Time to ice the special birthday cake for little Ellie Travis. Mrs. Travis had asked Anna to do something special. One of the benefits of having an artist as the local baker was that it showed up in amazing cakes. When Anna began working in the bakery she did research to learn how to use cake decorating as a way to 'paint' cakes. She always liked it when customers gave her free rein in the decorating. She was already picturing a field of grass and flowers with a pony--Ellie's favorite animal.

  * * * *

  Sam Carter sat on a park bench munching on a delicious roast beef sandwich with horseradish sauce. He looked around the pretty tree-filled park located inside the square of downtown. Most small towns he'd been in had the local courthouse inside the square, but this one kept Town Hall and the courts on one side of the park, with businesses and shops on the other sides of the square's park.

  The weather was gorgeous. It was an unexpectedly warm, late April day, but with a refreshing breeze coming off the water. Sam glanced down at his sandwich. Great bread, and an interesting woman at that bakery. He was curious about his reaction to her. She wasn't anything like the women he was normally attracted to, nothing like the tall, lanky and beautiful Patrice who he'd broken up with a few months ago. No, Anna Grainger was...different. Yet, he felt drawn to her.

  Patrice had been a social butterfly, seen at every opening and party in her designer dresses. It had taken a while for him to realize there was no substance underneath the beauty. When he'd caught her going through his private files on his computer, he'd known he had to end it right away. She hadn't taken it well, to say the least. In her world, she was never dumped, but instead was the one doing the dumping. After a huge fight, she'd stormed out, spewing threats as she left. No, she was nothing like the young woman he'd met today, he could already tell that.

  There was something about Anna, some depth in her eyes, that had made him want to stay and talk with her. Those eyes were intriguing. They seemed a dark forest green and then later more brown. He supposed they would be called hazel. At any rate, he couldn't get the direct gaze of those eyes out of his mind. Something about them, about her--she ignited an interest within him, a hunger to see her again. Which was completely inappropriate at this point in time. She was just a baker in a small town. He knew hi
mself well enough to know he was often drawn to the exotic and exciting. Anna seemed calm and normal, not quite plain, but not beautiful. Maybe if she did something with her hair and make-up--her hair was a lovely shade of deep auburn, he thought--then stopped in surprise. Why am I thinking about her?

  He shook his head at himself and finished off his sandwich and iced tea. It was almost time to get back to work on the house. He'd set a schedule when he bought the dilapidated old beach house here in Sully Point. The plan was to finish fixing it up within six weeks, then settle down to his real work.

  * * * *

  Frank Grainger nodded to the stranger as he came into the hardware store. Although, he thought, you couldn't really call him a stranger now that he'd been coming in here regularly for weeks. Frank had heard all the gossip around town about the newcomer. He walked over to the man, who was headed for the back where the larger items were kept.

  "And what can I do to help you today?" he asked.

  Sam turned back to look at him. "I think I need a ladder. I don't want to need a ladder, but I think--no, I know, I've got to buy one. I've got to get up on the roof."

  "You've been coming in here long enough I think I should know your name. I'm Frank Grainger, and you are--?"

  Sam stuck out his hand. "Sam Carter. But you must be Anna's father, right?"

  Frank's looked more intently at the other man. "Anna? How do you know Anna?"

  "I was in the bakery earlier. If those rolls are any indication, she's a terrific baker. She mentioned you owned the hardware store."

  "Ah, I see. Yes, Anna's one of mine. You should stop back by there to get the freshly baked cookies. Everyone in town knows she takes a batch out of the oven right after lunch."

  "Maybe I'll do that," Sam said. He pointed to the ladders. "Any one in particular that you recommend?"

  Frank considered for a moment, then gave Sam two choices, very different in price from each other. Sam bought the most expensive one. At the cash register in the center of the store, Frank asked, "So what is it you're doing? You've been coming in here for supplies for weeks now. It's made me curious."

  Sam gave him a rueful grin. "Fixing up my new house on the beach. I bought the one the agent called 'old Wally's place,' although I'm surprised you haven't heard yet that I bought it. I figured in a small town like this the news of my purchase would have spread all over."

  Frank chuckled. "Linda Firestone is about the only person in town who isn't a gossip. Anyone buys a house from her, she keeps mum about it. Here, let me help you get this out to your car--you tying it down to your roof or do you have a pickup?"

  Sam grimaced. "I don't have either one. I need a different car, or better yet a pickup. Know anybody selling a decent one?"

  "What, you mean, right now?"

  "No time like the present. I can pay cash if that would speed it up."

  "Well, I honestly don't know who has one for sale. Tell you what, I'll talk to my son, Cody, tonight when he comes over for dinner. He probably knows if anyone is selling a pickup. Right now I can have Bobby run this out to your place. Leave me your phone number and I'll call you when I have some news. But--I have to ask, what kind of car are you driving that you can't put a big ladder on top?"

  Sam smiled. "It's a 2003 Aston-Martin Roadster, which currently has no top for a ladder."

  "Where're you parked? That sounds like a car I want to see."

  Sam laughed. "I'll drive by here on my way out to the beach house. You're sure it's not a problem to have the ladder delivered? I can pay--"

  "No charge for deliveries for new friends. Bobby's not doing much today, anyway, might as well keep him busy. During summer vacation he works for me, but for now he has half days until the school year ends. I swear he would spend the whole day texting his friends if I didn't confiscate his phone." Frank handed the receipt over to Sam. "You go on over and grab some of those cookies, and I'll send Bobby out to your place in about an hour. How's that sound?"

  "Sounds great--the delivery time and the cookies. Thanks Frank, I do appreciate this."

  Frank watched him walk away and out the door, considering him thoughtfully. He would bet that an Aston Martin had to cost over one hundred grand. Dinner tonight ought to be interesting. Discussing the newcomer was common conversational fodder. Still no clue, though, about what the man did for a living. Frank felt that you couldn't really trust someone who kept secrets. Why should his job be a secret? Yet nobody in town knew what Sam Carter did when he wasn't fixing up old Wally's place.

  * * * *

  Anna was in the kitchen working on Ellie's cake when she heard the bell on the front door clang. "Hang on, just a sec. I'll be right there," she called out.

  After putting a finishing touch on the side of the cake, she hurried out to the front of the bakery only to stop dead in surprise. Sam was back. "What are you doing here?"

  She'd thought about him ever since he'd left earlier, and it felt strange to see him so soon.

  "I thought I'd buy some cookies. Your father recommended them," he said with one brow raised as he looked at her quizzically.

  "Oh gosh, I'm sorry about how that sounded. I just didn't expect to see you here again today..." Her voice trailed off into an uncomfortable silence. She felt her cheeks reddening.

  Sam smiled easily at her. "Not a problem. Now how about a few oatmeal and a few of whatever else you think is good?"

  She nodded jerkily and quickly took cookies out of the display case. "I think the chocolate chip cookies are especially good today so I'll give you some of those."

  "Sounds great," Sam said as he glanced around the bakery. There were three small tables with chairs set by the front window where customers could have pastry and a cup of coffee. He turned back to Anna as she rang up the register. After he paid, he pulled a cookie out of the white paper bag and took a big bite. "Wow! These are fantastic," he muttered around the cookie. He swallowed and waved the cookie in the air. "You should be selling these."

  Anna laughed. "I am selling them--to you at the moment."

  He shook his head. "No, I mean like a brand across the country."

  "I don't think so," she replied. "I'm fine with baking them for the community here, but I don't think I'd like a bigger production."

  "I guess. Really wonderful, though. So you don't ever think about making it big in the cookie world?"

  She laughed. "There's a cookie world?"

  "And a cupcake world and a donut world. In my reality, anyway." He laughed with her.

  Anna liked his laugh. It was rich and engaging.

  "So tell me," he said after eating half of another cookie. "What does the town think about me, about why I'm here?"

  "Ah, you want to know the gossip. Let's see...that you're from Hollywood making a movie. That's a favorite idea. Or that you're an international spy. Although, nobody yet has explained to me why an international spy would end up here in Sully Point."

  He chuckled. "Yes, after all, there are so many people with secret lives hiding out here."

  Anna looked down. "You might be surprised."

  "I don't know, Sully Point seems pretty above-board to me. A nice little tourist town with a talented bakery artist."

  She looked up at him, startled. He was looking away from her, into the bag of cookies. He couldn't know anything about her being an artist...could he? Nobody in town knew about her painting life, so how could he? She was being silly, she decided, but it was time to change the topic.

  "Where are you from, Sam?"

  "I've lived all over. Most recently in New York. It's a relief to be out of the city. And the beach house will be perfect. Quiet with great views of the ocean. Oh." He stopped and glanced at his watch. "I'd better hurry, don't know how time got away from me. Your dad is sending a ladder out to my place soon so I should be there. See you later." He grinned at her. "Thanks for the talk and the cookies."

  Anna walked out from behind the counter to watch him through the front window. She saw him get into a fancy-look
ing sports car. That encounter hadn't gone too badly, she decided. She found him interesting and funny. A body a sculptor would love, eyes of rich chocolatey-brown that seemed to see her innermost thoughts, lips that curved into a knowing smile full of secrets and passion and hands that--of course, none of that mattered. Impressing gorgeous men was not something she ever had on the agenda.

  It wasn't like she'd given up on men--not quite yet. But she was twenty-three years old and had only ever had one serious relationship, when she was a senior in high school. She'd thought Matt loved her as much as she loved him. Then two weeks after they'd finally made love, he'd dropped her and moved on to another girl.

  That episode had made a big impact on her, she knew. Probably more than it should have. From then on, she hadn't focused on getting dates, but instead she'd thrown herself into community and family life, and most of all her life as an artist. Immersing herself in her art gave her a sense of belonging and rightness that she couldn't find anywhere else. She spent as much time as possible in a world filled with art, never more comfortable than with a paintbrush in her hand.

  Whether Sam was fun to talk to or not had no bearing on anything. He was way out of her league.

  * * * *

  Sam enjoyed the drive along the oceanside. The roadster was a dream to drive, but he stayed within the legal speed limit. He'd already gotten one ticket for speeding since he'd moved to Sully Point.

  He glanced at the white paper bakery bag on the seat next to him. Cookies. The girl could make phenomenal cookies. Actually, he thought, she wasn't a girl but a woman. Even her pastel green and white polyester uniform couldn't totally disguise that curvy figure. But something about her projected a kind of innocence--yet there was also an intriguing depth there, in her eyes, you could see it in her eyes.

  "You're nuts!" he yelled to himself into the wind as he drove. Why are you even thinking about her in that way? Get back to work, finish the house, and settle in. That's the plan and it doesn't call for any romantic interference. He contemplated those thoughts for a moment and then wondered how soon would be too soon to return to the bakery.