Holiday by the Sea

by Traci Hall

  “To help with the mattress.” She smiled, happy. Just because he was around. Good thing I’m leaving town.

  “How many orders you said? We can take those on the way.”

  “Ten. I’ve got the cookies all baked, well, one last batch of sugar needs to be done for an assortment, but the ones that need to go out early are finished.” She pulled the papers from her apron pocket. “I think.” She read the list.

  “You’re frowning. What’s wrong?” He got to his feet.

  “I can’t read my own writing.” Was that an n, or an h?

  He took the paper from her and started to laugh as he sat back down. “Nobody could read this.”

  “Hey!”

  “There’s frosting on it.”

  “So?”

  “I thought you were a mess, working on the fly for Christmas. But is this really how you do it? Like, always?”

  “Yeah...” She tapped her foot impatiently and held out her hand. “I’ll take that back, thanks.”

  “I can make it more efficient.”

  “My list making?”

  “Your work station. Let me see it. You could have real notebook paper to take notes on instead of the back of an insurance ad or sticky note.”

  “I don’t know.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to open herself up to him again, even for something as seemingly trivial as her organizational skills.

  “Let me show you. If you don’t like it, go back to your regular ways. I guarantee you will find it much easier to work, though.”

  “Fine. You poke around with the desk while I get that last batch done.” There, now he’d have something to do while she finished up and she’d successfully steered him away from discussing last night’s vlog.

  She gave herself points for thinking on her feet.

  The ball ended up back in his court when he didn’t make a big fuss at the mess on the office desk, as she’d expected. “Okay,” he said, sitting down and cracking his knuckles. “Show me what you use most.”

  Dragging her feet, Teagan joined him by the office chair.

  “This isn’t going to hurt.” Riley’s smile played across his face before settling into a serious expression.

  How could he be so sure? “I turn on the computer, and check the company emails. Orders, thank yous, the rare complaint. I write down the orders,” she patted her pocket and her notes. “Prioritize what recipe needs to be made first. I write down the addresses and print out the cards.”

  Like a maestro conducting an orchestra, Riley flexed his fingers and got to work. “Go bake,” he said. “I’ll be right here. It won’t take that long.”

  She decided not to make a big deal about it. “Fine. But you don’t get to have your feelings hurt if we don’t keep it. Artistic minds, you know.”

  “Hey, I’m artistic.”

  “You’re repressed.”

  He whirled around in the chair. “I am not.”

  “I disagree. When was the last time you did something that was out of your comfort zone?”

  “I asked you out for coffee.”

  “And see how that’s turned out?” She bit her lower lip, wishing he’d chosen a different answer. “You’ve been having a blast.”

  His brows lifted to peek above his dark frames.

  “I am an artist. I compose music. Play the guitar. Artists don’t have to be crazy.”

  What was he saying? “Listen, how about we talk over this later? I’ve got cookies to bake and you’ve got a miracle to perform.” She gestured toward the desk.

  “You’ll see,” he said, turning back to the computer.

  *****

  Riley heard her walk away and kept his smart ass comment to himself. She thought he was repressed?

  What the hell?

  Just because he had a job and dental insurance didn’t mean he wasn’t an artist. Hell, he wrote lyrics too. Music composition was another language all its own. He put his ego aside, looking at the old Becker’s Bakery website and deciding how best to combine what they had with something streamlined.

  Two hours later, the smell of sugar cookies teased him. Baking was art, and according to Teagan, her family was creative with it. Baskets, gingerbread houses. He hoped his new system would help.

  “Hey, Teagan. Come see.”

  She brought him three golden cookies with spun sugar topping. “Holy shit. I never knew the desk was white.”

  “You have a lot of space.” He gestured to the printer, in its own cubby, the printer paper beneath it. Replacement ink was stacked beside it.

  “I keep buying ink. I didn’t realize there was already some here.”

  “It was buried beneath a pair of mittens.”

  “Mittens? In Florida?” She shook her head. “Don’t tell me. The pencils look nice. That’s Mom’s favorite coffee mug, but the handle broke.”

  “I figured it was important since it wasn’t tossed. So, have a seat.”

  She did, setting the napkin with the cookies on the desk. “What?”

  “I’ve redesigned your website.”

  “What the heck? Riley!” She peered at the screen in surprise. “It looks great. Much easier to navigate. How much is this going to cost?”

  “Nothing. Free website design. I kept your logo and images, and chose something simple but efficient for cookie orders and delivery. I used a florist shop model.”

  He almost brushed his knuckles against his shirt, but didn’t want to seem overbearing. He loved the dazed expression on Teagan’s face as she took it all in.

  She turned around, stood up and hugged him. “Thank you! Really.”

  Her breasts were soft and her body was warm and her breath smelled sweet. He wanted to just keep hugging her and never let go. “You’re welcome.”

  Pulling back, she smiled. “You’ve got to have other things to do.”

  “My plan was to spend my holiday break enjoying what South Florida has to offer. I have.” Her.

  “When do you go back to work?”

  “Next Monday.” Funny, how he hadn’t missed going in to teach. When he’d been in Kansas for the holiday he’d counted down the hours.

  “Are you sure you want to spend the rest of the day with me? Not only getting a mattress but deliveries. I’ll pay you.”

  “We’re not going there.”

  “But…” She held his hand and squeezed. “Thanks. I’ll go change and we can go.”

  Teagan left and Riley sank down in the chair, picking up a delicate cookie. He’d thought long and hard last night about coming over today.

  He’d run until his chest hurt and still didn’t have any answers. Slept like shit, wanting to be here, with Teagan, and knowing he was asking for hurt. Tried writing. The lyrics were stuck.

  Yet here he was.

  Helping out, cleaning up, being in her orbit.

  He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

  He bit into the cookie, sugar bursting over his tongue.

  Sweet and delicious, but not as sweet as Teagan’s kiss.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Teagan drove while Riley hopped out to do the deliveries. She’d offered to take turns, but he didn’t mind.

  “We need to get batteries for the garage door opener,” she told Riley when he climbed in again. “I wrote it down somewhere, but I keep forgetting where.”

  “You know you can do voice to text and send yourself a message.” He added a five dollar bill to the tip pile on the console. “I do that all the time.”

  “Yeah?” She nodded. “You’re just full of good ideas. Arranging the deliveries so that we didn’t have to backtrack on our way to the mattress store was probably my favorite.”

  He had plenty of other ideas, though she wasn’t open to any of his sexual suggestions. His goal was to keep at it until she melted into a puddle of want at his feet.

  She pulled into the street, ignorant of his master plan. “So, deliveries are done. Everybody’s happy. Let me know when you need fed again, okay?”

  “I’m not a pet
,” he countered. “Or a kid. Although we have enough tip money to get Chinese.”

  “Spoken like a man after my own heart.”

  She parked at a strip mall with a hardware store next to the mattress place, backing in like a pro.

  “We should get paint too,” he said.

  “Really?” She looked at him over the top of her sunglasses. “I was going to do it myself.”

  “I offered to help.”

  “That was before,” she shrugged, her cheeks tinged with pink. “You know.”

  “I got into your pants?”

  “Smooth. Very smooth, Riley.” She reached over and gripped his upper thigh, teasingly close to the goods. “And I got into yours.”

  “What color?” he squeaked.

  “I can’t tell if what’s on the walls right now is beige, or just old white. The desk totally took me by surprise.”

  “We can check out some samples.” He got out of the van and met her on the sidewalk. “Hardware first?”

  Her arm brushed his. Riley rarely noticed what people wore, but he was all about Teagan’s clothes. How much of her was covered, and what assets were allowed to shine. Today she had on a black tank top with thicker straps, covered with shiny beads. A holiday sweater without the sleeves, making it perfect for South Florida. Black and red plaid shorts and black sneakers.

  He matched, sort of, in a black t-shirt and jeans. Chuck Taylors. His out of school uniform was simple.

  Riley opened the door for her and they walked into the store side by side. He liked the way that felt. They were in luck, and the paint section was right there. He picked up a blood red sample card. “What do you think?”

  “My mother would scream. This is about making her happy.”

  “Right. Oh my God, there are a hundred shades of white!”

  She laughed and joined him, studying the display before choosing two that looked identical. “One for the base, the other for the trim?”

  “Maybe something with more contrast?” Riley spied a set of browns. “Here, you guys have a lot of brown in your house. She’ll love it.”

  Teagan stopped herself mid-eye-roll. “Maybe.” She held them together and then gave a nod. “All right. Batteries?”

  They passed by a scratch and dent section that had a sink in it. “Isn’t this about the size of what’s in your bathroom?”

  “Ours already has a scratch.”

  “Funny.” Riley looked it over and found a small divot in the back. “This is only fifty bucks. I can totally switch out your bathroom sink. I know how much you hate it. It made five of your vlogs.”

  “Then what will I have to complain about?” Teagan had one hand on her hip.

  He wisely kept his mouth shut.

  She found the batteries and added some lightbulbs. “I think this will do it.”

  They brought the stuff to the van and then got the mattress. “Your parents will never suspect this.”

  Working together, they loaded the mattress into the van. Riley showed off his MacGyver skills by bungie-cording the back to fit.

  “I’ll have to go five miles an hour,” Teagan observed, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head.

  “So fast?” Riley questioned. “I suppose now wouldn’t be the time to suggest lunch.” His stomach rumbled. “Crispy prawns.”

  “You are evil.” She got in as her phone rang. Teagan stuck it on the dash phone holder. “Hellloo.”

  “Hello. This is Officer Johnson. May I speak with Teagan Becker?”

  “Colin? It’s me.” She kept her keys in her lap and glanced at Riley.

  There was something about talking to the police that made you feel as if you’d done something wrong even when you hadn’t. He touched her shoulder.

  She relaxed.

  “Hi, Teagan. We have some items we’d like you to identify, if possible.”

  “Great!” She nodded at Riley, her eyes bright. “When?”

  “Within the hour, if possible. If not, it’ll have to wait until Monday.”

  She shook her head. “We can be there right now.”

  Riley shrugged. So what if they looked like they were moving out? The last place they’d have to worry about someone stealing their mattress should be the police station.

  *****

  Teagan’s stomach did a few loop di loos. How would she know if there were any pieces missing? She’d have to talk to her dad, and ask if he’d told Mom about the theft. Then she could send them images to verify.

  She adjusted her sunglasses and headed toward the station, the mattress secure but like a fishtail in the back of the van. “Do you mind coming along?”

  “Not at all,” Riley said. “I hope everything is there.”

  “Me too. I was never a big fan of Mom’s jewelry, though there were a couple of pieces I liked in high school. Kind of medieval, gothic looking.”

  “Hey, you never confessed to writing angsty poetry.”

  “Why would I? I burned that shit. No evidence.” She glanced at him and tossed her hair back. “I took my drama to You Tube.” She turned down Commercial toward the beach and then went left to town center.

  “I’m not as hot as you.”

  She grinned. “You’re pretty cute.”

  “In a nerdy music teacher way, I know.”

  “That was what I thought then. Now I know about the abs and tight ass under those dry-cleaned slacks you wore.”

  “Yeah?” He patted his flat stomach. “This can all be yours, if you play your cards right.”

  Teagan’s giggle escaped her before she could stop it. “Lucky me.” She parked in a longer space so that the mattress wouldn’t get clipped. “Gotta say that I prefer your butt in those jeans.”

  Riley actually blushed. “Should I wait in the car?” he asked. “With the stuff?”

  “No. Who’s going to want a sink or a mattress?”

  “We have paint, too,” he added. “White and brown.”

  “It’ll be fine.” She got out and headed toward the police building. “Come on!”

  “Hello? Ms. Becker?” Teagan turned toward a high-pitched voice coming from the building opposite the station.

  Janey, the office manager for the town, waved at her as she hurried down the steps.

  “Hi,” she answered. The woman probably never got mad and cursed no matter how angry her boss made her.

  “I wanted to say thank you, again, for those delicious cookies. Did you want your basket back?”

  “No, no. You keep it.” Teagan smiled, edging toward the police building. Riley walked toward her. Thanks to him, muscle guys were a thing of the past.

  “It’ll be perfect for our magazines. I was wondering if you had any sort of cookie special for New Year’s Eve? I’d like to send something over to the county.” Janey looked away from Teagan and pointed to the mattress poking out of the van. “Are you moving?”

  “No.” Teagan stuck the keys in her purse. “Our house was broken into, so I’m replacing what was ruined. I’m here to identify what was taken, I hope.”

  “The burglars were caught?” Janey’s hand went to her throat.

  “Yes. Right away, actually.”

  “That’s wonderful. I hate it when crime happens in our little town by the sea.”

  “I grew up here. I know.” It felt odd to claim her home town when she’d spent so much time distancing herself from it.

  “A local? Me too. We’re a rare breed. And your boyfriend?”

  Janey gestured to Riley, who grinned and joined the conversation. “Hi. I’m from Kansas.”

  It was his own fault that Janey thought they were dating. He was so damn cute, and looked about eighteen in his Converse sneakers. A teen idol in the making.

  “Kansas. That’s flat, if I remember my geography correctly.”

  “Very,” Riley agreed.

  “What do you do?” Janey asked.

  “He’s a musician,” Teagan said on impulse. It was time for him to remember his dreams. Claim them.

 
“Oh? We just had our guy quit for New Year’s Eve. Not the big band, thank heaven, but the solo artist for the inside stage at the Grille.”

  Riley turned to her and shook his head. Teagan smiled wide. Ha! Serves him right, after she spent all night making amends that he step out of his self-made box. “What kind of music?”

  “At this point I’d take nursery rhymes and a bongo set.” Janey’s mouth thinned and she narrowed her eyes at Riley.

  “He’s better than that.” She elbowed Riley with a grin. “Pop stuff, classic? He’s got some original material too.”

  “New Year’s Eve?” Riley stammered. “Don’t we have plans?”

  “Oh honey,” she said, scooping her arm through his and squeezing. “It would be fun. I’ve always been your biggest fan.” She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. His red cheek. “I think you should help Janey out.”

  “If you do,” Janey said, her eyes pleading, “I can get you two tickets to midnight dinner on the beach. What better place to watch the ball drop? Outdoor television sipping pina coladas while it’s snowing in New York.” She shivered in the seventy-five degree heat.

  “Riley, that sounds great. I really, really think you should do it.” She gave Janey a conspiratorial wink. “He’s only been here a short while. It would be great to get a foot in the door. I know the crowd will love him.”

  “Great.” Janey clapped her hands together. “You don’t know what a weight that is off my shoulders. Listen, go see if you can identify your things and then come in and fill out some paperwork. In addition to the tickets, it’s two hundred bucks for three hours.”

  “That should keep us in champagne.” She nodded at Janey and started to pull Riley toward the police building.

  When they were out of earshot and Janey was back inside, Riley gritted out, “What are you thinking? I haven’t played for an audience since I graduated high school.”

  “You played for me. Sounded great.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “You have to do it. Step outside your comfort zone. You made me look at everything about my life. Called me out. I manned up. It’s your turn to wear the big girl panties.” She said this as they neared the stairs to the police station.