Sanctuary Cove

by Rochelle Alers

  “Stop worrying, Debs. Everything is perfect.”

  She smiled up at him. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Yes, you would have. It may have taken a bit longer, but you would’ve done just fine.”

  Deborah stared at Asa’s delectable mouth inches from her own, willing him to kiss her. Kiss her and remind her that she was a woman who’d realized she still had needs—sexual needs that had to be assuaged. Her gaze did not falter as she inhaled the citrus-blended fragrance that made up Asa’s cologne and aftershave. She felt unable to move or speak as Asa came closer.

  Her breasts felt heavy, nipples tightening in arousal as her chest touched his. Deborah’s eyes closed; her heart stopped when his mouth brushed over hers. Asa’s kiss was gentle, yet persuasive and she kissed him with a hunger that belied her noticeable calm.

  “Deborah,” Asa whispered, his heavy breathing echoing in her ear.

  “Asa, I…”

  His mouth moved over hers again, swallowing her words, while devouring her softness. “Don’t talk, baby,” Asa pleaded. “Please don’t say anything.” His lips left hers, trailing feathery kisses under her ear, along the column of her neck. “You smell delicious.”

  “Thank you,” Deborah mumbled dreamily.

  Asa kissed her again. “You taste delicious.” Both were breathing heavily when the kiss ended. “That was for good luck, Debs.”

  “Thank you,” Deborah said again in a husky whisper. The breathlessness of her own voice made her blush.

  His smile was as tender as a caress. “As soon as you arrange the plants we can open the door.”

  Deborah didn’t want to believe Asa could appear so calm when her insides were quivering like gelatin. Her mouth was tingling from his kisses. Asa had stoked a fire that grew hotter every time they were together.

  Deborah set out hand-painted ceramic pots on the quilted table runner stitched with irregular shapes and various fabrics that her great-grandmother had pieced together. When her grandmother had shown Deborah her collection of quilts she had a story to tell about each of them. There were pieces that had come from a tattered apron, a worn tie, dress, work pants, shirt or jacket. The quilts were a textile history of her family and the time in which they’d lived.

  Taking a step backward, she surveyed her handiwork before glancing over at Asa. She watched as he slipped his muscular frame into the suit jacket before adjusting his shirt cuffs and tie. He looked up at her then, their gazes locking before he walked over to meet her by the counter. Her shoes added at least three inches to her slender height, putting the top of her head at his nose. Deborah’s chest fluttered at the thought of being this close to him, reminding her of the kiss they’d shared. She shook her head free of the thoughts and instinctively reached up to adjust his tie.

  Raising his left arm, Asa stared at his watch. “It’s ten.” Reaching for her hand, he tucked it into the bend of his arm. “Are you ready?”

  Deborah’s eyes moved slowly over his face. “I was born ready.”

  Throwing back his head, Asa laughed loudly. Walking to the door, he propped it open to allow for The Parlor’s first customers to come through. Deborah stood at the counter, staring out at the clear glass, while Asa opened and raised the blinds over the plate glass. The bookstore was situated on the west side of Main Street, and that meant the sun would not reach them until late morning.

  Within fifteen minutes of opening a young man from the local florist walked in carrying a large potted plant wrapped in shiny green paper tied with a bright red bow. Deborah indicated where he could set the plant, signed the receipt, and gave him a tip. She plucked off the attached card. “It’s from Lester and Mabel Kelly.”

  Asa ran a forefinger over the large green waxy leaves. “It probably will be the first of many you’ll receive today.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth when Eddie Wilkes walked in with a large vase of long-stemmed roses in hues ranging from pure white to near purple. “Congratulations, Debs. The place looks fantastic. Where should I put this?”

  Asa came over and took the vase. “I’ll take it.”

  Eddie stared up at Asa. “Mr. Monroe, isn’t it?”

  “Just Asa is fine.”

  Eddie nodded. “Asa it is.” Shifting his attention, he took a step closer to Deborah. “You did good, girl.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head at the last possible moment, his mouth connecting with her jaw. “If I’d known twenty years ago that you were going to look like this I never would’ve let you go.”

  “Shame on you, Eddie,” she chided. “You’re lucky Asa doesn’t know your wife, or he would be forced to repeat gossip. And you should know how fast gossip spreads in the Cove.”

  “Kitty knows all about you.”

  “She knows what, Eddie?” Deborah asked. They’d gone out twice. The first time was their senior prom and the second time it was to hang out on the beach with a group of kids in their graduating class.

  “That we’re old friends.”

  She smiled. “You’re right. But I don’t want your wife to get the wrong idea and come after me with something. I heard through the rumor mill that not only is she jealous, but has a hair-trigger temper.”

  A rush of color darkened Eddie’s face. “She does go off every once in a while. I just came to drop off the flowers,” he continued without taking a breath. “I have to get back because I have an interview with your son. The boy has a lot of talent, Debs. It’s not often I meet someone whose writing is equal to their verbal ability. Kudos to you and Louis for producing a fine young man.”

  Deborah forced a smile she didn’t feel. Every time someone mentioned Louis’s name she felt as if she’d been stabbed. She didn’t want to play the grieving widow, but she also didn’t want to be reminded that she’d lost her husband whenever someone offered their condolence. What she wanted was to heal and move on. Her sole focus was to take care of her children and to make certain her business remained solvent.

  “Thank you, Eddie.”

  “I’ll see you later when I cover the grand opening ceremonies.”

  Seconds later, Asa, who’d overheard the conversation, placed a gentle hand on Deborah’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She started to move away from his touch, but he squeezed her softly.

  “How long were you married?”

  A beat passed. “Eighteen years.”

  “I have to assume that you went to bed and woke up with your husband for most of those years.”

  “The only time we were separated was when he had to attend a conference or if I took my kids on vacation without him.”

  “The most difficult thing to adjust to now that he’s gone is sleeping alone, right?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “You get into bed expecting him to be there, but he’s not.” Asa removed his hand and chuckled. “Lucky for you, your old friend Eddie seems more than willing to warm your bed. Not that I’d let a man like that near you…”

  “So, what are you going to do, Asa? Become my protector?” Deborah rolled her eyes at Asa’s macho talk, but she had to admit his protectiveness was flattering.

  He grinned. “I will if I have to.”

  “There are quite a few single men on the island you may have to fight off,” she teased.

  “Don’t worry, Debs. I’m up for the task.”

  Deborah sobered quickly. “I’m honored and appreciate your willingness to protect me, but at this time in my life I’m not interested in hooking up with a man. I don’t care who or what he is. My first priority is my children.”

  Before Asa could respond, the door opened and two women walked in. One zeroed in on him like a heat-seeking missile. “Mr. Monroe. Fancy meeting you here,” she crooned, “and how nice you look.”

  Deborah lowered her arms. She estimated both women were between forty and fifty, and it was obvious they were sisters. Both had the same platinum blond hair color, sea-green eyes, and coloring as translucent a
s fine bone china. They wore white camp shirts, and black cropped pants and black-and-white striped espadrilles. They were tall and much too thin.

  “Welcome, ladies. I’m Deborah and Asa is the bookstore’s manager.” She extended her hand, smiling as each one shook it.

  “I’m Dora Levin and this is my twin sister Cora Varney.”

  Deborah angled her head. “Do I detect a New England accent?”

  “We’re from Massachusetts,” Dora confirmed. “We plan to stay in Sanctuary Cove until mid-April. We’ve been at the boardinghouse,” she finished, sliding her gaze back to Asa.

  “You have a very good ear,” Cora crooned.

  “I spent four years at Bennington College.” Deborah added.

  Dora’s eyes brightened like spotlights. “We went there, too. But, of course we’re a little older than you. Did you like it?”

  “I loved it,” Deborah replied. “My first winter I felt as if I’d never get warm, but by the time I was a sophomore you wouldn’t have known I was born in the South if I didn’t open my mouth to speak. You’re welcome to browse, and hopefully you find something you’d like to read. I also want to let you know that we’re having a ribbon-cutting ceremony at one. This will be followed by an open house with refreshments.”

  Cora, the less dominant twin, spoke up. “We must get together and reminisce. I wonder if the same professors we had were still there when you attended.”

  “But, of course,” Deborah agreed, smiling. “If you’re going to be here until April, then I think you might be interested in several activities we are hosting here at the store.” She raised her brow, a playful smirk crossing her lips. “I’m certain Mr. Monroe will be more than happy to tell you about them.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Asa cut his eyes at Deborah. He wanted to tell her that the sisters weren’t as benign as they appeared. One was widowed and the other had never married and both were barracudas. No man, married or single, was exempt when they decided to target one. Dora had even attempted to compromise Jake Walker, who’d pretended he was hard of hearing.

  You owe me, he mouthed to Deborah as he led the sisters to the seating area. She responded by blowing him a kiss.

  It had to be word of mouth that brought a steady stream of people into the bookstore. Those who’d come to browse claimed seats when Asa sat down at the piano and began to play a medley of show tunes and movie soundtracks.

  Mabel arrived, pushing a trolley with covered trays of cookies and tarts, as well as a sheet cake. Her husband carried in a large coffee urn, while Deborah set up another one filled with hot water for tea. The Kellys provided sugar, sweeteners, milk, cream, fresh lemon slices, plates, forks, and spoons.

  There was another delivery, this one from Jack’s Fish House. Otis set out platters of catfish fritters, shrimp with dipping sauces, and a seafood salad. He kissed Deborah, wishing her the best, stating he had to get back to the restaurant because he had to cater a party later that evening.

  She was pleasantly surprised when a clerk from the local wine and liquor store walked in with a case of assorted wines and packages of colorful plastic cups. “I didn’t order wine.”

  He smiled. “Mr. Monroe did.” Reaching into the pocket of her slacks, she took out a bill, but he backed away. “I can’t take that, Mrs. Robinson. Mr. Monroe took care of the tip. Good luck with the bookstore.”

  “Thank you.” Walking over to the piano, Deborah rested a hand on Asa’s back and put her mouth to his ear. “You’re going to have to set up the bar.”

  Smiling, he continued to play. “Where?”

  “Where I have the plants. You can put them on the floor under the table.”

  Glancing up at her over his shoulder, Asa met her eyes. They were dancing with excitement. “As soon as you turn on the music I’ll stop playing.”

  Murmurs and groans went up when Asa slipped off the bench, while Deborah called the mayor’s office, asking if he could stop by earlier than one for his photo-op. Ten minutes later Spencer White strolled in with his official photographer and members of the town council, amid a smattering of applause. Crystal and Whitney came in behind them. Deborah hugged and kissed her children, and the photographer captured the tender moment. Crystal’s friend Darius couldn’t attend because he’d had an appointment with his orthodontist.

  “Oh, Mom, everything looks so beautiful,” Crystal whispered.

  “Thank you, baby.” Deborah thought her daughter looked very pretty with a long-sleeved black tee, short, flaring pink-and-black striped skirt, pink leggings, and black ballet-type flats. “You look so cute.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Deborah looped her arm through her son’s. “How was the interview?”

  The dimple in Whitney’s right cheek winked attractively when he smiled. “I got the job. My first assignment is to cover your grand opening.”

  “But isn’t that a conflict of interest?” Deborah whispered.

  “No it’s not, Mom. It’s a test to see if I can be an impartial journalist.”

  Deborah was filled with an overwhelming surge of pride when she stared at her son. “Do you want to interview me now, or later?”

  Whitney pulled a small handheld tape recorder from the pocket of his jeans. “Let’s see how much we can get in before Mayor White gets started.”

  Deborah answered all of Whitney’s questions, outlining the details for the book club discussions and afternoon tea, while Spencer strutted around the store pressing the flesh like a candidate on the campaign trail. She noticed the number of women crowding around Asa, grinning and touching his arm to get his attention.

  “Who is the man in the suit?” Whitney asked when he saw the direction of his mother’s gaze.

  “Asa Monroe. I hired him to manage the store. If it hadn’t been for him I doubt whether I would’ve opened today.”

  “I’m glad you decided to reopen the bookstore. And, it’s good that you found someone to help you run it.”

  “Yes it is.”

  Glancing around, Deborah attempted to count the number of people who’d come to The Parlor and lost count at twenty-seven. Most were eating and drinking, but there were a few who’d taken books off the shelves and were either sitting or standing around reading.

  Dora and Cora had their arms full of paperback novels. Deborah excused herself and went over to help them. “Please, let me take your books to the front and I’ll put them aside for you.” She had to get Asa to bring down a carton with reinforced paper shopping bags stamped with The Parlor Bookstore logo and website.

  Deborah had placed the twins’ books in a large sweet-grass basket under the writing table when Rose Dukes-Walker, the woman who had woven the basket, entered with her husband Jake. Rose was the local artisan and Rachel’s sister. Many of Rose’s sweet-grass baskets and quilts were in private collections throughout the country. She’d begun giving private lessons to those who wanted to learn the craft, which had come to the American South with enslaved Africans.

  Rose handed Deborah a large hat box. “There’s a little something in here for your bookstore.”

  Leaning down, she kissed the petite woman’s silken cheek. “Thank you so much, Miss Rose. Whatever it is I know I will treasure it.”

  Rose patted Deborah’s arm. “I’m just glad you decided to come home. You’re going to have to excuse me, but I’m going to rescue my husband from these hungry women. I don’t know what it is about these women who come to the Cove. They think every man, whether single or married, is fair game. Rachel told me they were all over Mr. Monroe like white on rice. It’s a crying shame that the poor man had to move out to get away from them.”

  Deborah didn’t tell Rose that Asa had moved in over the store. It was only a matter of time before everyone would know. There were very few secrets in Sanctuary Cove. There was a running joke that if you wanted to keep a secret, then never tell it.

  She caught Spencer’s attention, and he motioned for her to join him outside. It took an interminable amount
of time for the photographer to position everyone so he could get them in the photo. Deborah stood next to Spencer. Three of the four members of the town council flanked his left, while Whitney, Crystal, and Asa stood on Deborah’s right. Asa and the head of transportation held the length of wide red ribbon while the mayor gave Deborah an oversized pair of scissors. At the exact moment she cut the ribbon several flashbulbs went off, followed by applause. The Parlor Bookstore was officially open for business.

  Deborah flopped down on the loveseat, kicked off her heels, and rested her head on the arm. She was exhausted. When she’d opened the Charleston store it had been without fanfare. However, on the Cove it was as if everyone had turned out to browse, buy, and eat and drink their fill. Unfortunately Barbara had called to say she couldn’t make it because of a multiple-vehicle accident on the interstate; many of the patients were taken to her hospital and as an on-call nurse she had to report for duty.

  The last customer had filed out minutes before six, and she and Asa closed and locked doors and pulled the blinds. Large plastic bags filled with the remnants of uneaten food and trash were deposited in a Dumpster in a corner of the parking lot.

  Now, a smile parted her lips when she felt the heat from Asa’s body as he leaned over her. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

  She smiled up at him. “I was just resting my eyes.” He’d dimmed the track lights but hadn’t turned off the ceiling fans. She saw that he’d taken off his suit jacket and tie and had undone several buttons on his shirt.

  Cupping her ankles, Asa lifted her legs, sat down, and rested her bare feet on his thigh.

  He stared at the slender groomed feet with the red polish on toes that were much lighter-skinned than her face. “You need a little sun on your feet.”

  “My feet are always pale.”