Rum and Raindrops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

by Oram, Jean

  Giggling, Jen admitted, “I bought these from Mandy’s restaurant. Anyone with a few bucks can get their hands on these babies. But that still doesn’t mean they’re easy to come by. They usually sell out within half an hour of opening. Although, Mandy keeps a couple behind the counter for me if don’t come in right away.”

  Rob, brow furrowed in concentration as he gunned it up a muddy embankment in the shortcut, shook his head. “You’re going to kill me, woman.”

  “Who? Me?” Amused, Jen gave him her best look of innocence. “Why?”

  “First suggesting this horrific shortcut which, of course, is almost deadly due to the rain.”

  “Hey, I never suggested it for the way back.”

  “Then pushing me down a mountain. I swear you’re trying to knock me off.” He shot her a lopsided smile that made her heart and lungs do funny things that, if symptomatic in an elderly person, would suggest something fatal lurking around the corner.

  “Well, you know…” She tried to make her voice light and amused, but as they rolled into town her life rose up to smack her mood down. Even though she’d had a blast with Rob today, her life was still very much in his hands and reliant on what he found. Or didn’t find.

  She hunched forward in the seat, wrapping her arms around herself. Why couldn’t Rob be someone else? Anyone else? She hadn’t had this much fun doing such a crappy thing in forever. She cut a glance at him, watching the way he commanded the truck, half naked, through town. The way he was coated in mud and soot and seemed just as happy and at home as when he was fully clothed. Actually, more at home. He was in his element. Like she was.

  She noticed he slowed as they passed her favorite house in Blueberry Springs. A pretty yellow home with a huge front porch and a garage out back. She pushed aside her wishes and fantasies of making its for-sale sign turn into sold as she and Rob moved into it together. Instead, she focused on the street, eyes peeled for an aging truck like the one she’d seen on her camping trip. It had to show up eventually, didn’t it?

  “Could you pull up as close as possible?” she asked as they got close to her apartment. “I don’t think the town is quite ready for The Jen Show.”

  He parallel parked on the quiet street, lining her up beside her apartment’s street door so her dash would be as short as possible. She waited while Mary Alice and her little dog passed by, Mary Alice’s lips curving into a smile as she took in the scene. Rob without a shirt. Jen in her bathing suit. Both of them covered in filth. Jen kept her window rolled up, avoiding eye contact.

  “Look away,” she hissed at Rob. “She’s the biggest gossip in town!”

  Rob chuckled. “I think Mary Alice is wonderful.”

  “Oh, my God, you know her?” Jen felt the urge to duck under the dashboard.

  “She’s told me all sorts of things about you.” Teasing, he pretended to reach for the window button on his door. “Shall we chat with her?”

  She slapped his arm and waited until Mary Alice was half a block away before reaching for her door handle. “Thank you for taking me out there. It was an…experience.”

  “That is officially the dirtiest I’ve ever gotten in the line of work.” He lifted his dirty hat and skittered a hand through his damp, grimy hair. “It was good to see the clearing and have you identify your fire pit.” His smoky gray eyes met hers, flecks of blue shining like blue sky after a storm. “I appreciate you taking the time to do that.”

  They were so business-like again that she began to wonder if their flirting had actually taken place. If the desire she’d felt had been real.

  She ran her eyes over him. Yep. The desire had been real and was still as present as ever.

  She sighed and exited the truck. “Hopefully, you can find something helpful.”

  “Um hmmm,” he rumbled and rubbed his chin, his gaze distant.

  She gave him a wide-eyed look when he stayed seated. “What? You’re not going to walk me to the door?”

  He jerked and fingered the towel around his hips, his mind obviously torn between being a gentleman and being seen in public in nothing more than a towel. His cheeks turned crimson as he reached for his door.

  Laughing, Jen let him off the hook. “See you around, Rob.” She shot him a playful wink and shut her door.

  God, he was hot.

  Too bad he’d be disappearing right around the time she’d be able to finally pursue him.

  Assuming she could actually make that kind of fantasy to reality leap. And that he’d like to make it with her.

  Hoping he wasn’t watching her butt, Jen scurried across the damp sidewalk.

  “Hey, Jen?”

  Jen turned back to the truck.

  “I’ll bring back your towel next time I’m in town, if that’s okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Trey, who worked in the hardware store next door, joined Jen on the sidewalk.

  She tried to hurry through her door, but Trey stopped her.

  “Went out to the site, huh?” He took in Jen in a way that told her she’d be the object of yet more rumors tomorrow. “Looks like you got caught in that rain.”

  Jen nodded politely and opened her door.

  “Got to watch out for this one,” Trey called to Rob. “She’s a real spitfire.” He blanched, turning back to Rob in a panic. “I mean, not a spitfire. Not like a pyromaniac. Just perky, you know?” He glanced at her chest. “I mean, not perky—”

  “Shut up, Trey,” Jen muttered through gritted teeth, casting an arm over her chest.

  Jen caught a flash of uncertainty in Rob’s eyes. So big and bright, she could see it from her spot at the door. She shook her head at Trey. Why didn’t he tell Rob she’d priced out jerry cans and lighter fluid while stocking up on matches last month? Which she hadn’t.

  She shook her head as Rob drove off, feeling as though, once again, she’d been wrong footed just when things were going well.

  “Where did you go swimming?” Trey asked in confusion, his eyes glued to her bare legs.

  CHAPTER 4

  The next morning, Jen slathered skin lotion on her dried-out, sooty-no-more skin and rubbed a kink out of her neck from sleeping on the couch. Last night after a long, hot bath that made the soot swirl off her legs like evil spells, Moe, Mandy, Frankie, Amber, and Russell—who’d just sold his book to a big publisher and was ready to celebrate—had come over to distract her from what they’d heard was a ‘hike into hell and back.’ She’d tried to convince them it wasn’t all that bad, but evidently Trey had whipped up a pretty good story. It probably didn’t help that Rob had driven off with uncertainty and doubt lining his features.

  Thank goodness the drinks had miraculously replenished themselves well into the morning hours because it was an image that kept replaying over and over in her mind. That and how she’d played the flirt card wrongly. He must have thought she’d flirted as a way to draft his attention away from the case—and away from her as a suspect. And not because of the fact that she liked him, his sense of humor, and the way he took things in stride.

  Why had she allowed herself to go down the road of thinking that maybe he liked her, too? That maybe she was someone he could love? Why had she let herself have that hope? She’d become caught up in it, and scared him off.

  And there was still the canoe trip to deal with. At least she had another chance to prove to him that she could be professional and capable. He’d see her build a fire. Put it out. She’d show him she was a woman of her word and that he could trust her. No ulterior motives. She was trustworthy, competent, and she could go out into the woods without a GPS and not get lost.

  Grabbing a yogurt to eat while she opened up Wally’s, she left a note for Moe, who had crashed on her bed, to remind him to lock her apartment when he left. Heading out her apartment’s outer door, she froze. Getting out a nice red truck in front of her place was Rob.

  “Um, hi.”

  Oh, poop. She’d forgotten to brush her teeth. Her mouth was a furry mess from the hurricanes Moe
kept whipping up last night. He made them beautifully, complete with a slice of orange over the rim of the glass of rum, passion fruit, and orange juice. He made them with just the right amount of lime, syrup, and grenadine. In fact, she was surprised she wasn’t nursing a hangover this morning. His drinks had been irresistible.

  “Good morning.” Rob took in her bare ankles. “I see you got clean.”

  “Um, yeah. Eventually. And you?” A vision of Rob scrubbing every inch of his toned body made her nerve endings tighten in response. She bit back a sigh and tried to remember to breathe. Normally.

  “The tub is a bit worse for wear. I pity the cleaning lady.”

  “You have a cleaning lady?”

  “I stayed at the Overnighter Inn last night over in Derby.”

  “Derbyshire,” she corrected.

  “I have an apartment a ways from here, but sometimes by the time I’m done with work it’s too far to go.”

  “You sound like a regular nomad.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it feels that way sometimes.”

  Rob gave her a shy look, and Jen gestured to the store. “Did you come to check out lifejackets? You mentioned you were in the market for a new one. I could help you choose one.”

  “Oh. Sure. No time like the present. But actually…” He held out a hand to stop her from leaving and turned to his truck. He reached into the cab. “Here.”

  He held up a still-wet, stained hiking shoe.

  “Oh, thanks.” She took the formerly favorite shoe gingerly between her fingers, opened the door to her apartment stairs and flung it inside.

  “I thought you might need it.”

  “Thanks.” Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she’d ever miss it other than to be sure she’d tossed both of them out.

  “You can get the soot out using warm water and washing soda—sodium carbonate. Works every time. Don’t rub the soot though.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Martha.”

  He straightened. “Did you just refer to me as Martha Stewart?”

  “I may have.” Her corners lit into a smile and she sighed, knowing her vow to leave him alone and to not flirt was shot as soon as he’d shown up with yesterday’s uncertainty gone from his eyes.

  Jen backed to the store, not willing to let Rob out of her sight.

  He suddenly backed up. “I should go.”

  Disappointment crashed into her gut. “Didn’t you want to look at lifejackets?”

  He quickly climbed into his truck, popping his head out the window as he backed up. “I forgot I have an appointment with the forestry lawyer.”

  Wow. Her breath must be really bad. Or, he remembered that she was the primary suspect and couldn’t be trusted. One of the two. She sighed, the smile falling off her face as she gave him a small wave.

  Rob peeled out and headed down the street. Stupid real world. Yes, okay, so they weren’t in the bush flirting any longer. They were in the real world where he had to investigate her actions and report to authorities. But it was hard. Hard because she’d felt something—something a lot like being alive—when she was around him.

  And he’d flirted back because he was a man. That was all. Nothing more.

  She turned back to her apartment to go brush her teeth, kicking herself for thinking he and this situation were somehow different. Moe, yawning and stretching, stood on the threshold to her place, bare-chested and bed-headed.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked quietly.

  He shrugged. “A bit.”

  She stormed over to Moe and, placing her hands flat on his chest, shoved him as hard as she could. “Thanks a lot. Now Rob probably thinks I’m a big fat liar as well as someone who’s flirting as a way to manipulate him. He’s not going to believe a word I said about the fire. Or there being another truck.” She gave Moe another shove. “Or that you’re only a friend. I want to be friends with Rob.”

  Tears in her eyes, she shoved past Moe and into her apartment, wishing it were a portal to another world, and wishing that what she’d said about wanting Rob in her life didn’t feel like such a pressing need.

  * * *

  “I’m still mad at you,” Jen said as she sat herself at the Brew Babies bar in front of Moe after work. She propped her chin on her hand as though it weighed a ton and her neck could no longer support it.

  He gave a small shrug and a frown. “If Rob can’t trust what you tell him, then he’s got issues, Jen. It might be best to steer clear.”

  “Of course he can’t trust me! I’m a prime suspect. I’ve been asked not to leave town.” Her voice had crept louder, her underlying panic pushing it into a higher pitch, and she forced herself to calm down. She cast a quick look around the bar. The last thing she needed was a reporter eavesdropping—and there had been one popping up here and there all day until, the last she’d seen of him, Liz had gone ranting after him, pushing into his personal space. Jen supposed that Liz figured she should chase off the competition until Jen was ready to talk to the press—namely, Liz.

  Moe did the quiet bartender thing and wiped out a glass while listening, encouraging her to keep talking.

  “How did I become someone who wasn’t trustworthy?” She sighed. And when had she become someone who was so scared to get hurt? To allow herself to get smitten? This whole mess was making her brain go crazy.

  “Jen, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “I’ve got to make a change in my life.” Jen let out a long breath. “Wally was right. Damn the timing. Go live. It’s just…I’m not ready. And the guy I’d like to try things with, well, the timing really isn’t right for that.”

  “What kind of things did you want to try?” Moe had a humorous glint in his eyes as he poured her a Coke and slid it down the bar.

  She caught it and groaned. “Shut up, Moe. I don’t mean you.”

  He clutched his chest as though she’d stabbed him, his attention moving to Amy, a nurse who’d turned bartender, and a certain someone Jen suspected had a thing for Moe.

  “Go ask Amy out,” she whispered.

  Moe whirled, his eyes large. “What?”

  “She likes you. Go for it.”

  He placed a hand on her forehead. “Are you feeling all right?”

  She laughed. “I know, I know. I chased you for years.” She didn’t need to tell him she would have freaked out if he’d ever actually taken her up on her playful chasing.

  A crew of smoke jumpers entered the bar, their loud carousing in contrast to the quietness of the bar. She watched them head to the jukebox and, ignoring the Out of Order sign, began plunking money into the machine.

  She took a big swig of her Coke, sending fizz up her nose, making her eyes water. Moe leaned closer. “Aw, come on. You’ll find someone.”

  “I’m not crying! It’s the Coke.”

  He quickly mixed up a Cuba Libre, then with a glance to the door which was still opening and shutting with all the action, letting light in in slow strobes, he shook his head with a small, worried frown.

  Moe carefully wiped the counter around her drink, and leaned close, resting on one elbow. He said, “I locked up on my way out this morning.”

  “What? I left after you. I went back in to brush my teeth.”

  “I mean, when I, uh, borrowed some of your juice.” He glanced over her shoulder again. What the hell was up with him today?

  Jen laid her hands flat on the wet bar. “Did you drink all my mango punch again? Moe, I swear—”

  Moe trapped her face and squished her lips up against his before letting go, giving her a wink. “Can’t mingle, Jennie. Busy bar tonight.” Addressing someone behind her, he asked, “What can I get you?”

  A shrink. She really needed a shrink. What the hell was that? And why, if she had been dreaming of Moe kissing her for years, had that lacked pretty much everything she’d ever wanted in a kiss? He was acting as though they were a couple. Why would he do that?

  She glanced over at the man Moe was serving, her senses hinting at familiarity. She lurche
d backward, just about falling off her stool. “Jesus!”

  Rob watched her from the corner of his eye, leaning away from her, guard up.

  Great. She was so welcoming.

  “Sorry,” she said slowly. She glanced down the bar to where Moe was watching them out of the corner of his eye, ignoring a customer, a strange look on his face. Was he jealous of Rob? He couldn’t be. There was no reason why he should be jealous of the man sent to investigate her.

  She returned her attention to Rob. “I wasn’t expecting you. I’m just…” She paused. She couldn’t tell him she was at a crossroads in her life. She had to act cool. Like everything was wonderful and normal in her life.

  She had to make friends with the monsters under her bed. That’s what Wally had said. And she trusted Wally. He’d been awesome through all of this. Not a crack about how only she could prevent forest fires or anything like that.

  Rob could be her friend. She could let him in so he could add to her life.

  No. No, he couldn’t be her friend.

  That wouldn’t be cool. That would be a conflict of interest, and he could get pulled off the case. She was pretty sure guys didn’t go for girls who got them taken off their job—in other words, fired.

  “Looks like you are wrestling a tentacled monkey in your mind,” Rob said, taking a sip of his beer.

  Jen raised her eyebrows at Rob. “A tentacled monkey?”

  “Well, what else could be harder to get a grip on?” The corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile and Jen felt a warmth spread in the pit of her stomach.

  She turned away to face the mirrors behind Moe’s space, bottles of amber and clear liquids blocking a full view of the man beside her. That feeling in her stomach was a dangerous one. One best left ignored. Stamped upon if necessary.

  And definitely connected to babies. Clocks that ticked rather rapidly. Hormones on red alert.

  Shit.

  She rubbed her face. Rob seriously messed with her body. And she was going to find herself moving forward, crossing lines, blurring them, even if the consequences were plain old ugly.