Another quick tightening of his fingers. “Fiancée.” He shot her a glance. Their gazes met for only an instant but there was no missing the emptiness in his eyes—as if he’d very carefully wiped his face clean of all expression, leaving his features as blank as his tone. After returning his attention to the road, he said, “Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re shocked that some woman would agree to marry me.”
Myriad emotions rippled through her—annoyance, sympathy, but mostly shame that she’d given him the impression that she thought so little of him when that wasn’t the case. He might be a pest, but he was a likeable pest. At least some of the time.
Most of the time, her inner voice corrected.
Jamie shook her head in the hopes of dislodging that stupid voice. “That isn’t what I was going to say.”
“Maybe not in those exact words, but I’m sure that was the basic sentiment.”
She made a sound like a game show buzzer. “Wrong. I was thinking that I know how much it hurts to be cheated on and it’s not a pain I’d wish on anyone. And that I’m sorry something so hurtful happened to you.” She paused, then asked, “How long ago did this happen?”
“Two years.”
“Are you … still in love with her?”
Silence swelled between them. Jamie peeked at him from the corner of her eye and noted his stiff shoulders and the muscle ticking in his jaw. Oops—obviously she’d asked the wrong question. Which could only mean that yes, he was still in love with her.
Her heart seemed to lurch sideways, filling her chest with an ache she couldn’t name, along with something else that felt oddly like jealousy, but of course wasn’t. Probably indigestion. Yeah, that’s what was causing the discomfort. Indigestion. She definitely shouldn’t have eaten that spicy chili for lunch. She placed her hand on her stomach but experienced no relief.
“No,” he said. “I’m not still in love with her.”
Suddenly her indigestion felt exactly like … relief? Weird! “You sure? It took you like five hours to come up with that answer.”
“I’m sure. And I knew the answer immediately. I just had to decide how much of it to say.”
“How many parts of ‘no’ are there?”
“She cheated on me, but she didn’t break my heart. Because she never really owned it. I never really loved her. Not the way you’re supposed to love the person you’re going to marry.”
“Then why did you ask her to marry you?”
“Looking back, I think I must have suffered a blow to the head. There were all kinds of red flags that should have warned me that she didn’t love me for me, but just like you with your boyfriend, I either ignored them or chose to believe her. We’d lived together for a year. Everyone expected us to marry, including her …” He shrugged. “I caved to the pressure. I reasoned that it was normal to question my feelings. Figured there’s no way to ever really be sure, completely sure, that you’re choosing the right person.”
“How’d you find out?”
Again he paused, then said, “Three weeks before the wedding I saw pictures of her kissing another guy at a party—and I don’t mean a peck on the cheek. When I confronted her, she confessed.”
Jamie winced. “Yikes. Well, better you found out three weeks before than three weeks after.”
“Amen to that. After that, I really started reassessing my life, thinking about what I was doing and why, deciding what would make me happy—and realizing I wasn’t doing it. When I turned thirty, I decided it was time to stop thinking and start taking action. I began planning for my future, and basically for my … I guess escape is the best word. I sold or donated everything that reminded me of my former life, moved to Seaside Cove, and haven’t looked back. Don’t intend to. I’m exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to do.”
He stopped at a traffic light and looked at her. She felt the intensity of his gaze right down to her toes. “I know you were pissed at me for calling you a puppet, for saying you allow people to take advantage of you and pull your strings, but I look at you and I see myself ten, five, even two years ago. Sometimes it takes an outsider, someone who’s not a family member or close friend, to give us a different perspective. Or that kick in the ass we sometimes need.”
“I think you just like the thought of kicking my ass.”
“Kicking it isn’t exactly the right word.” His gaze skimmed over her, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. When his eyes met hers once again, her breath caught at the unmistakable heat burning in the green depths. “It’s a really great ass, by the way.”
To her alarm she felt flattered instead of annoyed at his comment, which surely she should find sexist. Even worse, she couldn’t dredge up any indignation for him once again using the word “puppet” in relation to her actions. And worser—was that even a word?—she didn’t understand why.
Because you’re glad he likes your ass, Stupid Inner Voice informed her. And because you know damn well, as much as you don’t want to admit it, that there’s a grain of truth in his assessment.
Before she could find her voice, the light turned green and he returned his attention to driving. At the next corner, he turned right, then said, “We’re almost there.”
Jamie shoved aside her unsettling thoughts to examine later, and asked, “Does Kevin know you’re bringing a guest?”
“Yes. I called him. But even if I hadn’t, it would be fine. Things are very casual and down-to-earth at his place.”
Seconds later he pulled into the driveway of a modest brick ranch. The front lawn was small but meticulously groomed, as were the flowerbeds, which bloomed in a profusion of cheery purple, pink, and white. Jamie followed Nick and Godiva up the flagstone walkway, noting the wooden ramp that had been built over the several steps leading to the porch. Nick gave a single knock to the screened front door, then opened it. Godiva nosed her way past them and dashed into the house. Nick walked in and held the door for Jamie, who followed him inside.
They stood in a small ceramic-tiled foyer that opened to the right into a living area furnished with a comfy-looking navy blue sectional and an entertainment unit complete with a large flat-screen TV and an obviously at-home Godiva, who lay sprawled in the corner, chewing a rawhide knot. Straight ahead was a dining area that Jamie could see led to the kitchen. A hallway led off the dining area, presumably to bedrooms.
“We’re here. Where’s the welcoming committee?”
The words were barely out of his mouth when an exceptionally pretty blonde with huge China blue eyes entered the room. She broke into a huge smile at the sight of Nick and rushed forward to give him a hug. After she stepped back, she said, “I know you just escaped us, but we’re so glad you’re back.”
“Happy to be here.” He grabbed Jamie’s hand and tugged her forward. “Liz, this is my neighbor, Jamie Newman. Jamie, meet Liz Sheridan, my buddy Kevin’s wife.”
“Great to meet you, Jamie,” Liz said, extending her hand with a warm, engaging smile. She jerked her head toward Nick. “Hope this one isn’t giving you too much trouble.”
Jamie returned Liz’s smile. “He’s trying, but I’m not letting him.”
“Excellent. Just watch that grin of his—when he flashes it, it means trouble with a capital T.”
“So I’ve learned. Sunglasses help block the dazzle. So does keeping food in his mouth.”
“Uh, I’m standing right here,” Nick said, waving his hand. “And speaking of food, what’s for dinner?” He sniffed the air. “I don’t smell anything.”
Liz rolled her eyes. “That’s because I haven’t started cooking yet.”
“Well, get to it, woman. I’m already hungry and I haven’t even started working yet.”
“Does he eat constantly at his own house?” Liz asked Jamie.
“Don’t know, but based on the couple meals I’ve shared with him, he can put away enough food to sink a battleship.”
Liz nodded. “Kevin’s the same way. And he never gains an ounce. So unfair.”
> “Ridiculously unfair,” Jamie agreed. “Meanwhile, it takes me seven months to work off three bites of brownie.”
“Did someone mention brownies?” came a male voice from the hallway. Seconds later a wheelchair entered the living area, propelled by a handsome man with ebony hair and matching eyes, whose right leg was encased in a cast from his toes to his hip. He smiled at Nick. “Glad you’re here, man—even gladder if your presence has resulted in brownies.”
“Kevin, this is Nick’s neighbor, Jamie Newman,” said Liz. She then turned to Jamie. “My husband, Kevin—who loves brownies above all else.”
“Not all else,” Kevin protested. “I kinda like you, too.”
Jamie smiled. “Nice to meet you, Kevin. If I’d known you liked brownies so much, I would have baked you some.”
“Hey—you never offered to bake me brownies,” Nick said.
Jamie shrugged. “I didn’t know you liked them.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “C’mon. Everyone likes brownies.”
“Not everyone.”
“Have you ever met anyone who didn’t? Especially a guy?”
Jamie considered. “You have a point.”
Nick’s brows shot upward. “You’re agreeing with me?”
She raised her brows right back at him. “It would seem so.”
“Jesus. Where are my ice skates? I think hell just froze over.”
He turned to Liz and Kevin, who, Jamie suddenly noticed, were observing her and Nick with very interested expressions. “Jamie’s an excellent cook—which I know firsthand. I hear she’s an excellent baker—but as I’ve never tasted any sort of dessert she’s prepared, I can’t comment.”
Jamie barely resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him. Instead she smiled at Kevin. “Some people deserve brownies.”
“Like guys with broken legs?” he asked with a hopeful expression.
“Exactly.” She shot Nick a pointed glare. “And some people do not.”
Nick shrugged and adopted a bored expression. “I’m saying you’re all talk and no action, and couldn’t bake a decent brownie if your life depended on it.”
“Whoa,” said Kevin, looking up at Liz from his chair. “Did you hear that gauntlet being thrown to the floor?”
“Sure did.” Liz looked at Jamie. “You going to let him get away with that trash talk?”
“Oh, no. I intend to pick up his gauntlet.” She favored Nick with an overly sweet smile. “And smack him with it. I just haven’t decided yet how hard to hit him.”
When Kevin snickered, Nick shot him a frown. “Whose side are you on?”
“Will you really bake me brownies?” Kevin asked Jamie.
“Yes.”
Kevin turned back to Nick. “Sorry, bro—my allegiance is with the one who bakes the brownies.”
“Traitor.”
“You’d do the same and you know it. You ready to get to work?”
“Depends,” said Nick. “You gonna share your brownies with me?”
“Depends.” Kevin cut his gaze to Jamie. “Will you bake an extra-large batch?”
Jamie’s lips twitched. “Done.”
Kevin turned back to Nick. “Yes. I’ll share. One.”
“Fine.” He nodded toward Kevin’s cast. “How’s the leg feeling today?”
“Better than yesterday, not as good as tomorrow. It’s actually my ass that hurts—from all this sitting around. I can’t wait ’til next Wednesday.” He looked at Jamie. “That’s when the cast comes off. And the physical therapy begins.”
“What happened?” Jamie asked.
“Fell off a ladder on the job.” Kevin shook his head. “Broke my leg in two places. Required surgery. Now I have a plate and more screws than I care to think about holding me together in there and I’ve been in this cast for six weeks. Next up is several months of physical therapy.”
Liz reached for Kevin’s hand. “We’re lucky only his leg was broken. When I think about what could have happened …” She closed her eyes and a shudder shook her.
Kevin brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “It didn’t happen so don’t think about it. I’ll be up chasing you and Emily around in no time.”
“Speaking of Emily,” broke in Nick, “where is the love of my life?”
“Taking her afternoon nap,” said Liz. “She’ll be waking up soon.”
“Emily’s our baby,” Kevin explained to Jamie.
“And she’s also my goddaughter,” said Nick. “And The Cutest Little Girl in the World.”
“I have to agree with that,” Kevin said.
“And you’re totally unbiased,” Jamie said with a laugh.
Kevin grinned. “Totally.”
As if on cue, Jamie heard a baby voice say, “Mama, Mama, Mama.”
“I’m being paged via the baby monitor,” Liz said, pointing at a device that looked something like a handheld phone on the end table.
“I’ll get her,” Nick said. He scooted around Jamie and turned down the hallway.
“I’m planning to grill steaks for dinner, Jamie,” Liz said. “Does that sound okay?”
“Sounds great. I’m happy to help.”
“Thanks—with Emily now awake, an extra pair of hands is always appreciated. She may be the cutest little girl ever, but she’s also very curious and into everything.”
“How old is she’?”
“Eighteen months.”
“I remember when my niece was that age. So busy, so cute.”
Just then Nick’s voice floated through the monitor. “Hey there, sweetie. How’s my favorite girl?”
His question was answered by a happy baby giggle and the words, “Uncoo Nic. Up.”
“You’re getting so big, I can barely lift you.” Nick made exaggerated groaning sounds, as if he were lifting a boulder, followed by kissy noises and baby squeals of delight. “What’s the big idea of napping when I’m around? That’s not allowed.”
A few seconds later Nick entered the room holding an adorable toddler with her father’s ebony hair surrounding her cherubic face in soft ringlets and her mother’s amazing blue eyes. She had one chubby arm wrapped around Nick’s neck and two fingers of her other hand in her mouth.
She blinked at Jamie, clearly wondering, Who the heck are you? Jamie smiled, waggled her fingers, and said, “Hi there, Emily. You sure are a cutie.” Emily pulled her fingers from her mouth and grinned, showing her tiny baby teeth. Then she saw Kevin and Liz, and her smile deepened, showing off a pair of deep dimples.
“Dada,” she said, and reached for Kevin.
“Oh, my gosh, she’s absolutely adorable,” Jamie said.
“That’s because she looks just like her mom,” Kevin said, settling his daughter on his good leg. He wrinkled his nose. “She may look really cute, but whew, she smells really bad.”
“I’m on it,” Liz said, plucking Emily up like a daisy, lifting her high and blowing on her tummy, an act that brought out a delicious baby squeal of delight. She turned to Jamie. “I’m not sure I have all the ingredients to make brownies from scratch. Would you be interested in checking the pantry while I change her?”
“As long as you don’t mind me rooting around in your pantry.”
“I’ll show her where it is,” Nick offered, then he laid a hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “I’ll meet you in the back room in a few.”
Kevin and Liz headed down the hallway and Jamie followed Nick into the kitchen. Bright golden sunlight streamed through a window that offered a view of a neatly landscaped, fenced-in backyard complete with a child’s playhouse, a sandbox that looked like a giant turtle, and a swing set. As was her habit with every first-time visit to any kitchen, Jamie turned in a slow circle, absorbing the details of the space—pale oak cabinets, gleaming coffee-colored granite countertops, tiled backsplash, center island, and stainless appliances.
“Lovely,” she said. “Everything’s up to date, and so beautifully done. And obviously new.”
Nick nodded. “Ke
vin finished it not long before his accident.”
“Did you help him?”
“Helped him finish. He was well into the project when I moved to Seaside Cove.”
“And I’m guessing you built the ramp outside to accommodate his wheelchair?”
“The trip down the stairs would have been pretty bumpy without it. The last thing he needs is for his leg to be jarred.”
Even though she’d suspected ever since he’d kissed her that he wasn’t going off on drinking binges, it was now all perfectly clear. “This is where you’ve been when you’re off on your ‘benders.’ ” She made air quotes around the last word.
“Guilty.”
“You’re not out drinking, you’re here working. Helping your friend.”
“Hey, we toss back a few brews at the end of the work day.”
Her memory kicked in and she frowned, and said slowly, “When we talked about the speculation as to where you went … you suggested you were helping a crippled friend … and you really are.”
“Well, he’s only temporarily crippled, but yeah.”
“You told me the truth and I didn’t even know it.”
“I told you—I don’t lie.”
Something seemed to crack inside Jamie, then crumble to dust. That would be your preconceived notions about this guy, her inner voice whispered.
“How did the rumor get started that you go off on benders?”
Nick shrugged. “The first few times I came here, I stopped at Crabby’s for a drink before crossing the bridge to go home. I guess I was pretty tired, bleary-eyed, and scruffy looking after a few days of much work and little sleep. Someone must have thought I was drunk, word got around, and boom—rumor started.”
“Why didn’t you try to correct the misconception?”
“By the time I heard the rumors, they were pretty firmly in place, and quite frankly, I didn’t really care. Newcomers are always prone to gossip in small towns, so I figured actions speak louder than words and the longer I lived there, people would eventually figure it out. And as strange as it may sound, I found the situation kind of funny. I’ve always been regarded as something of a straight arrow, so I can’t deny it amused me to discover this perception of me as a mysterious bad boy who went off on benders.”
Summer at Seaside Cove Page 19