The Kiss on Castle Road (A Lavender Island Novel)

by Lauren Christopher

  As Natalie turned the system off and wound up the speaker cord, Doris and Marie approached from the side, dabbing at their foreheads with embroidered hand towels.

  “Thanks, dear! I couldn’t figure out how to operate that thing,” Doris said.

  “But you sure do a mean Zumba,” Natalie said.

  Doris waved her hand as if to flutter the compliment away.

  “Were you a professional dancer, Doris?”

  “I was, dear.”

  Marie glanced adoringly at her friend. “She’s too humble. She was the founder of Madame Zora’s Studios.”

  “The national ones?” Natalie asked.

  “Yep.”

  “You were Madame Zora?”

  Doris actually blushed. “One and the same. I danced with the Boston Ballet for ten years, then started the studio when I was twenty-seven.”

  “Wow,” Natalie whispered. Twenty-seven? That was Natalie’s age. As she watched Doris nodding her thanks to all her friends, Natalie thought about what lifetimes these women and men had lived before moving here. The Boston Ballet? Then starting a studio that went national and had been on late-night commercials Natalie’s entire life? And the Colonel and his years in World War II? And their friend Trummy playing with Les Brown and His Band of Renown? They must all feel as though they’ve lived nine lives. But they’d committed to their passions early on to build rich lives for themselves.

  Doris and Marie scooped up their belongings, the speakers, and the MP3 player, then shoved half of it into Natalie’s hands.

  “We’ve got to get out of here. The poker class is next, and they need to cover the mirrors. Did you have fun last night at the art walk, dear? I thought I saw you talking to Dr. Sherman.”

  Natalie juggled the speakers in her arms. “Yes, but he was on a date.”

  Doris tsked, waving the thought off. “That didn’t seem like much of a date. That tiny Stephanie isn’t right for him at all.”

  Natalie slid her eyes over to Doris. “You don’t think?”

  “Not at all. Dr. Sherman needs someone more outgoing. Smart but a little wilder.”

  “Really? He’s so shy himself.”

  “Exactly. Opposites attract, you know. Let’s go this way. We need to bring all this stuff up to June at the lobby entrance.”

  Natalie hoisted everything in her arms and followed Doris, still thinking about the opposites comment. “But you don’t want to meet someone too opposite,” she said. “I mean, Dr. Sherman’s so shy he might not like to leave the house. And Stephanie seems sort of the same. Maybe he needs someone like her.”

  “No.” Doris shook her head fiercely. “He’s young. The younger you are, the more opposite you can handle. And the more opposite, the better. Right, Marie?”

  “That’s right,” Marie said.

  “Marrying your opposite brings you to the center,” Doris said.

  “The center?” Natalie asked.

  “Where the balance is. No one should go through life being too shy or too outgoing. Or too conservative or too liberal. Or too stingy or too much of a spendthrift. Being in the center is where it’s beautiful and where you can finally find your peace. So meeting your opposite, and learning from each other, brings you there. And the sooner you get there, the happier you’ll be.”

  “I don’t know,” Natalie said. She was young, but if she met someone who was that opposite of her, she might want to rip his head off.

  “Trust me, dear. I know these things.”

  As they neared the next corner, bells jingling, they were almost sideswiped by the Colonel coming around the corner of the hallway, heading toward the lobby desk.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said. “I was just coming to find you.”

  “What’s going on?” Marie asked.

  “I got a call from the Friends of the Sea Lion center. Apparently they’re seeing another increase of sea lion rescues this week, and they want us to come in today and start extra training.”

  Steve Stegner hustled over from the lobby counter, where he’d apparently overheard the exchange. “No, no, we have to stick to the schedule, Colonel.”

  “Schedule, schmedule,” the Colonel growled. “I’ll drive.”

  “Colonel, your doctor said you shouldn’t be driving anymore,” Steve said.

  “AT NIGHT. My doctor said no driving at night. I can drive during the day.” The Colonel looked back at Natalie. “He’s just jealous because my cart’s souped up to go faster than his.”

  “How will you get back, Colonel?” Steve asked from behind them. “It’ll be dark.”

  The Colonel stretched to his full height, and his face took on a fierceness that looked like something that would have made soldiers shiver in their boots.

  But Natalie put her hand between them. “I’ll drive. My own cart. I’m off in fifteen minutes, and I have to take my niece there this afternoon anyway, so I’ll take as many as will fit.”

  Steve opened his mouth, but Natalie guessed his argument. “And I’ll drive them back,” she added.

  Steve closed his mouth and barely hid his glare toward the Colonel. Then he finally shrugged. “If you’re sure it’s okay.”

  “All systems go!” the Colonel said, turning and pointing over his head toward the entrance. At the rate they were moving, Natalie would probably beat them to the parking lot.

  But she wondered about Elliott and Jim and the sea lion influx.

  This should be another interesting afternoon . . .

  Elliott followed Jim around and listened to all his instructions for how to handle an influx: put extra towels down in the incoming room, make sure formula was being made, call for reserve volunteers. They’d risen from four incoming sea lions per day, four times a week—already a high number—to five incoming sea lions per day, five times a week. And Jim was looking nervous.

  “Any ideas yet on what this is?” he asked Elliott as they moved eight baby sea lions from one room to another. They didn’t have enough crates or gurneys to go around, or enough volunteers, so the two of them were simply lifting the animals in their gloved arms and hauling them from one room to the next.

  Elliott wiped a line of sweat from his hairline and blinked against his salty contacts. A crew of newer volunteers had already been promoted to rescue team, and they’d been out almost all day, responding to calls all over the island. A smaller crew was inside, handling intake and feeding. In this room, Jim and Elliott were lifting each pup onto a table to have a symbol shaved onto its belly so the crew could identify the pups while they were in the center. The whole team was exhausted. They’d been doing this all morning.

  “These four were all found near Fruit Hill, so let’s call this one Bananas, and those ones Apple, Pear, and Peachy.” Elliott pointed them out to the young vet-in-training who was doing the shaving. She wrote each name in her ledger, next to the Greek symbol she’d shave on their sides to correlate with their names. Elliott held Bananas’s flippers aside so the vet could do her work. Normally Jim did this part, but Jim had headed for the front room, busy on the phones trying to get additional loads of sardines and anchovies brought in, plus trying to find a night crew who could blend the fish into formula for the dehydrated pups. Jim was smart to plan ahead and get all the right people in place this early in the season.

  “Dr. Sherman! What are you doing in the intake room?” Doris tottered to where Elliott was still holding onto Bananas and reached for her own pair of gloves, presumably to take over flipper duty. Behind her trailed the Colonel, George, and—much to Elliott’s surprise—Natalie Grant and her little niece.

  “I brought a whole crew for you,” the Colonel growled from the back. “Where do you want us?”

  “I see.” Elliott had a hard time tearing his eyes away from Natalie. She had on her cargo capris, with a strappy pair of sandals, and still wore her Casas del Sur T-shirt, which hu
gged her in all the right places. A sporty ball cap sat on her head; her long braid escaped from underneath and fell heavily down her right breast. She gave him an intimate smile, and his whole soul seemed to settle.

  “I, uh . . .” He tried to remember what question he was answering. “I think Jim has plans for all of you. I think he needs help on the phones today.” He nodded to Doris, who was good there. “And he might need help here, doing intake.” He glanced at George.

  Elliott hoped Jim would put Natalie with him, wherever that was. He’d love to have her assist him in anything he did today. Although . . . Come back to reality, man, he chastised himself. Natalie’s niece probably just wanted to see her three intakes.

  “Are you here to see Larry, Curly, and Moe?” he asked the little girl.

  She was so cute—she had little braids, just like her aunt, and thick-lensed glasses like he’d always had.

  She shoved the glasses higher on her nose and nodded enthusiastically, bouncing her knees against a small plastic case that looked like a toy doctor’s kit.

  Elliott came to his senses and realized he should probably get her out of this particular room, where the incoming sea lions hadn’t even been tested yet.

  “Let me take you to see them.” He hoisted the pup Bananas into his arms and inclined his head in the direction they needed to go. “Follow me,” he said, glancing down at Natalie’s niece.

  He sure hoped her aunt would follow.

  Natalie tucked Lily into her side and trailed behind Elliott into the next room, where she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from him. He carefully lowered the baby sea lion he was holding like a sack of potatoes, his biceps straining all the way to the ground.

  “We had to start a new room because our usual rooms are full,” he said, surveying the surroundings. “These guys will get bottle-fed next, and then we’ll draw a little blood so I can study it.”

  He turned toward Natalie, but he seemed to remember that Lily was in the room. “But your three rescues are doing great,” he told her. “You got them to us just in time. Let me take you to see them.”

  Elliott didn’t have his lab coat on today and instead wore cargo shorts, flip-flops, and a T-shirt, as if he’d just come off the beach. Large yellow rubber gloves stretched up along his muscled forearms. Having not seen him in so few clothes before, Natalie hadn’t been aware of what upper-body strength he had.

  “They’re in here.” He opened a large windowed door for them at the end of the hallway and ushered them both inside.

  The room held a small aboveground pool on one side, surrounded by wet concrete and a fence, where seven small pups lounged in a dapple of sunshine that came through a west-facing window.

  “That’s Larry, that’s Moe, and that’s Curly there, over on the side. These other pups have been here longer, but Larry, Curly, and Moe have almost caught up already.” He squatted down on his haunches beside Lily next to the fence. “They’re still recovering and still a little weak, so they’re not as active as you might be expecting, but they’re definitely doing better.”

  They did look fuller than Natalie remembered finding them, and not as gray. Their coats were turning a healthy brown.

  “They do look better,” Natalie said.

  Lily frowned and took her stethoscope out of her doctor’s case. “Can I check them?”

  “Oh—no, they’re wild animals,” Elliott said. “I know they look cute, but we like to keep them wild, and we try to minimize their involvement with humans. That’s why we wear these.” He held his gloves up. “If we get them too used to human touch, or human care, they won’t be able to take care of themselves in the ocean, and that would be bad for them.” He made a cute sad face to Lily, but she was having none of it. Her sad face was for real.

  Natalie stepped closer and ran Lily’s braids through her hands. “They have to learn how to live with other sea lions, hon.”

  Lily looked as if she was going to burst into tears.

  “But you can still help,” Elliott added. “Do you want to make their formula?”

  Her face cleared, and she bobbed her head energetically, looking at Natalie once for approval.

  “Sure. You can do that,” Natalie told her.

  “I have to warn you—the formula’s made of fish. It doesn’t smell very good. But you get to wear an official volunteer apron.”

  Lily nodded again with enthusiasm.

  “Follow me.”

  Elliott set Lily up with a volunteer who outfitted her in an apron and gloves, and Lily looked as though she was going to lose her mind with joy.

  Natalie watched them both, not sure which one she found most amusing. But she definitely knew which one she found most alluring: Elliott’s confident movements, his backward grins toward Natalie, his patient explanations to Lily, and the way his arms were flexing were suddenly making her heart quicken.

  She finally had to look away.

  “She’s quite a little helper,” he said, coming toward the back counter where Natalie stood. They both leaned against the stainless-steel top.

  “She wants to be an emergency volunteer of some kind.”

  He nodded.

  “Are you ready for your date tonight?” she blurted out. She didn’t know what made her say that, but a tiny thread of jealousy was winding its way around her heart.

  Her question was enough to sever the small connection he’d seemed to be trying to make. His smile became distant and forced. “I suppose,” he said.

  She wanted to kick herself.

  “Are you excited about it?” she asked anyway. She’d become a glutton for punishment.

  He watched Lily for a few seconds, then glanced at her with half-lidded eyes. “Are you still offering tips?”

  The jealousy quickly faded into the background as a sexual jolt sent a shiver down her arms. Damn, what temporary lunacy had ever propelled her to offer such a thing? One should definitely not offer to help a man whose biceps one was starting to notice.

  “Sure,” she squeaked. “What do you want to know?”

  “The pressure’s on about my appearance now. Nell says Becky’s really sophisticated and knows fashion. I have a feeling I’m doomed on this one.” His smile let her know that he wasn’t that worried about it.

  “Becky is into fashion, yes.” Natalie wondered if she should also mention Becky’s tendency toward low-cut necklines and the exaggerated Southern drawl that she pulled out for sex appeal, but she decided against it.

  “The Colonel says no ‘dungarees.’ I’ve got that.” They both laughed. “Nell says wear contacts and leave my Star Trek watch at home. And—”

  “You have a Star Trek watch?”

  “It’s a nice watch—I mean, it’s not plastic or anything. I—”

  “Is it one of the collectibles?”

  “It is, as a matter of fact.”

  “It’s not the TAG Heuer one, is it?”

  He smiled. “It is. I won a his-and-hers set on a game show.”

  “You were on a game show?”

  “Twenty-Nine Questions. All my dirty laundry is coming out now.”

  “Oh my God, that’s great.”

  She watched the ruddiness take over his neck again and stared at the cute smile he had when he was embarrassed. Becky was a lucky woman.

  “I think you should wear what you want to wear, Elliott. And forget about the contacts. If these women can’t accept you for who you are, or have an appreciation for a collectible Star Trek TAG Heuer, then they’re not worth your time.”

  He nodded. “I like the way you think, Natalie Grant.”

  The cool air from the sea lion pools warmed up just a little as Natalie let the coziness of that comment settle within her.

  “Would you like me to give you my cell number in case something goes wrong and you want to call me for tips?” she asked. It
wasn’t the best reason to give a guy your phone number, but it would do. She wanted to lengthen their new connection in any way she could.

  He gave her another of those sexy sidelong glances. “I don’t expect to be calling you for advice from my date, Natalie.”

  She nodded. Of course.

  “But I’ll take your number.” He pulled his cell phone out and punched in the new number she dictated.

  It felt like a bridge was crossed—she and Elliott were now officially friends.

  When she and Lily left a bit later, she tried to keep her eyes off the forearm muscles she was noticing too much and focus again on their new trust.

  “Good luck tonight,” she said at the door.

  “Thanks.” He stared down at her curiously with a strange smile on his lips.

  She grabbed Lily’s hand and headed down the brick walkway, trying to ignore all the duplicitous feelings ricocheting around her heart.

  She really liked him. But she couldn’t date him. And she wanted him to be happy. And he very well might be happy with Becky. But she couldn’t help feeling stabs of jealousy . . .

  Clearly, she still had a ways to go on this selfless-female-friend thing.

  But she knew she could do this.

  CHAPTER 11

  Elliott approached the tiki-style restaurant at fifteen minutes till eight and made his way through the crowd that was spilling out onto the sidewalk, looking around briefly for a single woman who looked as though she was on a blind date. But she probably wasn’t there yet.

  He was surprised he was so early, given the fact he’d stalled as long as possible to have Natalie around. After enjoying every minute of showing her and Lily the center, while still handling two more intakes, he’d rushed home and showered, changed into his date clothes, irrigated his eyes with some lens cleaner, and flew to the Wanderer.

  Now he slid through the crowd sideways to get to the reservation desk.

  “Reservations for two?” he said. “Elliott Sherman.”

  The receptionist looked at her tablet. “You’re early. Would you like to wait at the bar?”