Books by Nora Roberts
Page 219
Mia slid her arm around Lulu’s waist, rested her cheek on the older woman’s hair. “Let’s sit down a minute and have a good cry.”
“Yeah.” Lulu dragged the tissue back out. “Good idea.”
Nothing, Mia was determined, was going to smear this window of joy. Not a three-hundred-year curse, not the inconvenience and confusion brought on by the early stages of expansion. And most certainly not her own prickles of envy.
Whatever had to be done, Nell would have these thrilling days of happiness and discovery.
Because of the hammering and the blocked view from what had been the café windows, the lunch crowd had dwindled down to the adventurous ones and the diehards. To Mia’s way of thinking, the timing couldn’t have been better. The smaller crowds allowed Nell a few more hours off a week and the luxury of being distracted.
By the solstice, the bulk of the job would be done. And if the café wasn’t yet picture perfect, her customers would be able to dine alfresco on her new little terrace.
From the sidewalk outside the bookstore, Mia measured the progress. The cantilevered overhang would, when all was said and done, blend well with the rest of her building. She intended to hang baskets of flowers from either end. She’d already ordered the curving ironwork for the banister and had selected the slate for the terrace floor.
She could visualize it completed, decked with café tables, pots of summer flowers. And paying customers.
“Coming right along.” Zack stopped beside her.
“Better than I could have hoped. We’ll try it out during solstice week and be a hundred percent by the July Fourth holiday.” She let out a deep, satisfied breath. “How are you, Sheriff Daddy?”
“Couldn’t be better. It’s been the best year of my life.”
“You’ll be a good father.”
“I’m going to work hard to be.”
“You will,” she agreed. “But the core of it will just be there. Do you remember when we were kids and I used to come to your house?”
“Sure, if you weren’t there with Rip, she was up at your place.”
“I always loved coming there, watching your family. Sometimes I’d pretend they were mine.” She leaned into him when he stroked her hair. “Just wondering what it would be like to have that kind of focus, I suppose, from my parents. That interest and amusement and pride. All those things that were so much a part of your house.”
“I guess they were.”
“Oh, Zack, sometimes I’d see your mother look over at you, or Ripley, and just grin. I could hear her thinking, just look at those kids. Aren’t they great? And they’re mine. Your parents didn’t just tend you, didn’t just love you. They enjoyed you.”
“We were lucky. We enjoyed them right back.”
“I know. Lulu gave me that, so much of that. So did my grandmother when she was alive. So I understood what it was. And because I did, my parents’ innate disinterest in me was such a puzzle. In some ways it still is.”
“Well.” Because he thought she needed it, he pressed a kiss to her hair. “There were times growing up when I’d think you were lucky because you could get away with more than I could. You just had Lu running herd on you, and I had two people.”
“She did the work of two people,” Mia said dryly. “Two sneaky people. She would always let me run right to the end of the tether, then, when I thought I’d get away with it, she’d yank me right back.”
“She’s still running herd on you.”
“Don’t I know it. Anyway, to circle back to where we were before this ramble turned around to be about me, I wanted to say you’re going to be a terrific father. You come by it naturally.”
“There’s nothing I won’t do to protect Nell and the baby. I need to ask you straight out if anything the three of you plan to do can hurt the baby.”
“No.” She framed his face with her hands. “No, I promise you. And I’ll give you my word, my vow, that I’ll protect her child, your child, as I would my own.”
“Okay, then. Now I’m going to ask you one more thing. You trust me.”
“Zack, I already do.”
“No.” He curled his fingers around her wrists, surprising her with the sudden intensity. “You trust me to do my job, and that job is to protect the people on my island. You trust me to care about you, to stand for you the same way I would my sister. You trust me to help you when it comes time to finish this. You trust me enough for that.”
“For all of that,” she told him. “And more. I love you.”
Sam stepped onto the curb in time to hear her say it. And hearing it, he felt a twinge in his gut. Not in jealousy—he knew better—but in envy that another man could draw such absolute trust and warmth from her. That another man could hear that quiet and heartfelt declaration, even as a friend.
It took all his willpower to work up a sneer. “Greedy son of a bitch.” Sam punched Zack lightly on the shoulder. “Haven’t you already got a woman?”
“Seems I do.” Still, Zack leaned down, kissed Mia on the mouth. “In fact, I think I’ll go on up and see what she’s up to. Nice kissing you, Ms. Devlin.”
“Nice kissing you, Sheriff Todd.”
“Looks like I have to do better than nice.” To work off some of the frustration, Sam spun her around, caught her up, and gave her a long, sizzling kiss that had a trio of women across the street breaking out in applause.
“Well.” Mia caught her breath and tried to uncurl her toes. “I suppose that was a few levels above nice. But then, you always were competitive.”
“Take an hour off with me and I’ll show you some competition.”
“That’s such an interesting offer. But—” She put a hand on his chest and eased back. “We’re just a little pressed with the remodeling. I’ve already used up my break kissing the sheriff.”
“Why don’t you serve me lunch? I thought I’d scope out your menu.”
“Your patronage is appreciated. The violet-and-herb salad is getting raves today.” She walked to the door and opened it.
“I’m not eating flowers.”
“I’m sure Nell has something suitably manly to offer you. Like a raw, meaty bone.”
“Phone’s for you,” Lulu called out as Mia started up the stairs.
“I’ll take it in my office.” She glanced back at Sam. “You know the way to the café.”
He did indeed. He settled on the Cajun chicken sandwich and an iced coffee. And watched the workmen.
It had been to his benefit as much as Mia’s for him to spring the crew for a few weeks. His season was underway, and the guest rooms already rehabbed were fully occupied. After the Fourth, he intended to put the workers on half days so as not to disturb his guests during the early-morning or early-evening hours.
That would take them into September. And by September, he thought, he’d know what to do with the rest of his life.
She wasn’t letting him get any closer. She welcomed him into her bed—but wouldn’t sleep in his. She would talk about work, about the island, about magic. But she’d made it clear that an entire decade of their lives was off-limits.
Once or twice he’d tried to bring up his time in New York, but she’d simply closed down, or walked away.
Though they were both aware that everyone on the island knew they were lovers, she wouldn’t go out with him. She hadn’t had dinner with him in public since that first business meeting. His suggestions that they take an evening on the mainland and have dinner or go to the theater had been brushed away.
The underlying message came through clear enough. She was telling him she would sleep with him, enjoy him, but they weren’t a couple.
Brooding over his sandwich, he wondered how many men would celebrate finding themselves in his position. He had an extraordinarily beautiful woman who was willing to share sex with him and expected—indeed permitted—little else. No strings, no expectations, no promises.
And he wanted more. That, he admitted, had been the root of the problem from the beg
inning. He’d wanted more, but he’d been too young, too stupid, too stubborn to see that the more was all Mia.
When she sat down across from him, he found his heart was in his throat and ready to spill out. “Mia—”
“I got Caroline Trump.” She snatched his iced coffee, drank deep. “I just got off the phone with her publicist. I have her for the second Saturday in July. You should’ve heard how cool and professional I was on the phone. She’d never have guessed I was turning cartwheels.”
“In that dress?”
“Ha ha. Sam.” She reached over to take his hands. “I know your influence is largely responsible for this. I’m grateful. I want you to know how much I appreciate you putting in a good word for the store.”
“That part was easy. Now don’t screw up.”
“I won’t. I already designed the ad, in anticipation. I have to talk to Nell about food.” She started to spring up, then hesitated. “So, do you have any plans for the solstice?”
He met her gaze, kept his voice as casual as hers. Though they both knew she was offering to take another step. One that was, for her, a big one.
“No, no formal plans.”
“You do now.”
Twelve
Mia closed and locked the door behind the last straggle of customers. Then leaned back against it and looked at Lulu. “Long day.”
“I thought that last group was going to make camp in here.” Lulu shut down the cash register for the night, then zipped the cash bag. “You want to take this moola home, or should I make a night deposit?”
“How much moola?”
Because they both enjoyed it, Lulu unzipped the bag, pulled out the stack of bills, and flipped her thumb over the ends. “Lots of cash customers today.”
“God bless them every one. I’ll do the deposit. Credit card receipts?”
“Right here.”
Rolling her shoulders, Mia crossed over, scanned the stack. “Business is good.”
“Solstice week, sucks them right in. I had two teenagers in here today, summer girls. Wanted to know if they could see the witch and get some love potion.”
Amused, Mia leaned on the counter. “And what did you tell them?”
“I told them sure, and how well the beauty potion worked for me. That sent them scurrying.”
“Well, they have to learn not to look for life cures in a pretty bottle of potion.”
“You put out some fancy jars full of colored water during solstice week, and customers would trip over themselves to buy them. Mia’s Magic Mix, for love, beauty, and prosperity.”
“Terrifying thought.” Mia angled her head. “In all these years, Lu, you’ve never once asked me for a spell or a charm. For luck, love, fast money. Why is that?”
“I get on well enough on my own.” Lulu hauled her enormous purse from behind the counter. “Besides, don’t think I don’t know you look out for me anyway. Better start looking out for yourself.”
“What an odd thing to say. I always look out for myself.”
“Sure, you’ve got your house, and you live well. Live the way you see fit to live. You’ve got your looks, and you’re healthy. Got more shoes than a Vegas chorus line.”
“Shoes separate us from the lower mammals.”
“Yeah, yeah. You just like having men look at your legs.”
Mia trailed a hand through her hair. “Well, naturally.”
“Anyway.” Lulu focused in. She knew her girl, and she knew when that girl was trying to distract her. “You run things pretty much as you want to. Got good friends. And you’ve made this place into something you can be proud of.”
“We made it,” Mia corrected.
“Well, I didn’t sit on my hands, but this is your place.” Lulu gave a decisive nod that took in the entire store. “And it shines.”
“Lu.” Touched, Mia brushed Lulu’s arm as she came around the counter. “It means a lot to me that you’d think that, say that.”
“It’s fact. And there’s another fact, one that worries me some nights. You’re not happy.”
“Of course I am.”
“No, you’re not. And worse, you don’t think you’re ever going to be. Not deep-down-in-the-gut happy. You want to give me a spell, you fix that. That’s all I have to say. Now I’m going to go put my feet up and watch my video of Die Hard. I like seeing Bruce Willis kick ass.”
With no comeback, Mia simply stood there while Lulu strode through the store and out the back. Unsettled now, she took the cash and receipts and wandered through the store. It did shine, she thought. She had put a great deal of energy and imagination to use here. Financial resources and intellect, long, hard hours and eclectic taste.
And nearly seven years of her life.
It made her happy, she insisted as she walked up the stairs. It challenged and fulfilled her. That was enough. She’d made it be enough. Maybe she had once assumed she would have a different kind of life. A life that included a man who loved her and the children they made together.
But that had been a young girl’s fantasy, and she had put away such dreams.
Just because she didn’t have those things didn’t mean they were missing, she thought as she went into her office to fill out the deposit slips. It only meant she’d taken another path, ended up at a different destination.
In-the-gut happy, she mused, and sighed. How many people were, when it came right down to it? Wasn’t it just as important to be satisfied, fulfilled, successful? And wasn’t it essential to any level of happiness to feel in control of your life?
She heard, as clearly as fingernails scraping against glass, the dark pressing against her windows. She looked outside. The sky was still glowing with the light of a summer evening. But the dark was there, just at the edges, trying to find a crack, a chink in her will.
“You won’t use me to destroy.” She said it clearly, so her voice carried through the empty store. “Whatever else I do in my life, I won’t be used. You are not welcome here.”
And there at her desk, with the day’s receipts and paperwork neatly stacked, she spread her arms, palms up, and called the light. It shimmered in her hands like gilded pools, then flowed out in golden rivers. As it spilled from her, the dark slithered back.
Pleased, she gathered what she needed to make the deposits.
Before she left the store, she detoured to her new terrace. The doorwalls had been installed that day, and she unlocked the glass, slid it open. Stepped out into the evening.
The ironwork railing was exactly as she’d wanted. Fussy and female. She laid her hands on it, gave it a quick, testing shake, and was satisfied at its unyielding strength. Beauty, she thought, never had to be weak.
From her vantage point she could see the curve of beach, the roll of the sea. And the first sword of white from her lighthouse as dusk faded toward night. The dark that crept in now was benign, full of hope.
Below her, High Street was still busy. Tourists were out for strolls, wandering into the ice cream parlor for a treat. The air was so clear she could hear bits of conversation and the shouts and squeals of young people on the beach.
As the first stars glimmered to life, she felt her throat go tight with a longing that she refused to recognize, and couldn’t resolve.
“If you had a trellis, I’d climb up.”
She looked down and there he was. Dark and handsome, and just a little dangerous. Was it any wonder the girl she’d been had fallen so pathetically in love with Sam Logan?
“Climbing up into business establishments after hours is discouraged on the island.”
“I’ve got pull with the local authorities, so I’d risk it. But why don’t you come down? Come out and play, Mia. It’s a hell of a night.”
There had been a time when she would have run to him. Because she remembered just how easy it had been for her to forget everything and anything but him, she simply leaned out over the railing. “I have an errand to do and another long day tomorrow. I’m going by the bank, then home.”
“Why don’t you give the guy a break?” one of the men called to her, only to be elbowed aside by one of his companions.
“The hell with him. Give me a break.” He laid a hand dramatically on his heart. “I think I’m in love. Hey, Red.”
“Hey, yourself.”
“Let’s us get married and move to Trinidad.”
“Where’s the ring?” she demanded. “I don’t move to Trinidad unless I have a big fat diamond on my finger.”
“Hey.” The man jabbed one of his friends. “Lend me ten thousand dollars so I can buy a big fat diamond and move to Trinidad with Red.”
“If I had ten K, I’d move to Trinidad with her.”
“Now see what you’ve done.” Sam chuckled. “Destroying friendships, inciting riots. You’d better come down here and go with me before my new pals and I have to beat the crap out of each other.”
Amused, she laughed, stepped back, and shut the doors.
He waited for her. When he’d seen her standing on the terrace, he’d been staggered. She’d looked so enchanting, and so sad. Heartbreaking. He’d have done anything in his power to lift that quiet sorrow. And anything, nearly anything, to reach past that thin shield she kept between them. He wanted to see what was in her mind. In her heart.
Maybe the key, at least for one precious evening, was to keep things simple.
He stood on the sidewalk when she came out and locked the front door behind her. She wore a slim dress that flowed around her ankles and was scattered with tiny yellow rosebuds. Her shoes were a series of slender crisscrossing straps and a high wedged platform. He found the thin chain of gold around her left ankle ridiculously sexy.
She turned, hitched the strap of her bag onto her shoulder, then scanned the sidewalk. “Where did your friends go?”