Sweet Tidings

by Jean C. Gordon

  Amanda tried a recovery program she hadn’t ever had to use before. She slapped the desk when that did nothing. Finally, she gave in and unloaded and reloaded the program. The reload did the trick. She checked the computer clock and saw she’d lost an hour’s work time. She worked as quickly as she could without sacrificing quality to finish. The printer cranked out the drawings at what felt like a snail’s pace. She had to get to the post office. If she wanted to clinch the job—and she did—the drawings had to be in the prospective client’s hands tomorrow morning.

  A power walk later, she left the Post Office. Drawings sent Priority Mail. Mission accomplished. She’d need to keep up that pace if she wanted to be at Mom’s by six, since she hadn’t driven to work today and had to walk to the cottage.

  Her cell phone, punctuated by a clap of thunder, interrupted her start. After this morning’s call, the private caller on the caller ID discouraged her from answering. She waited on the Post Office steps a minute for the voicemail message she’d get if the call had been anyone she knew. A minute too long. The increasingly dark clouds released a deluge.

  Great. It was a toss-up which was closer, her office or her mother’s house. Or she could wait here, back pressed to the Post Office wall, taking advantage of the slight overhang to try to keep dry and maybe wait out the rain. The sky to the east looked a little brighter already.

  A car horn honked across the street. Her mother’s car with Eric at the wheel. She took a deep breath and released it. So much for her plans to dress for their after-supper stroll. She waved. Eric did a U-turn and pulled to the curb in front of the Post Office.

  He rolled down the passenger side window. “Stay there.” He got out of the car and fiddled with something before standing upright under a pink polka dotted umbrella.

  Amanda tried, really tried not to laugh. But it was a lost cause. “Nice umbrella,” she said.

  “Is that any way to treat your rescuer?” He assumed a pout that was as incongruous as the umbrella.

  “I thank you, kind sir.” She stepped out from the wall and under the umbrella. “How did you know I was at the Post Office?”

  “I didn’t. When it started clouding up, your mother suggested I drive by your office and the city hall to check for your car, since you might have walked to work. No car either place, and the lights were out at your office. I was on my way back to your mother’s place.”

  A shot of disappointment pierced her that his mission had been her mother’s idea and not his. “You could have called.”

  He opened the car door for her, and she ducked in. “The Private Caller.” She pushed a strand of hair that had escaped her French twist back from her face. “You didn’t leave a message.”

  “My bad,” he said before jogging around to the other side of the car and climbing in. “I figured you’d see my number and call back. I forgot I had Private Caller on to make a couple calls about building materials.”

  “I guess I forgive you. A downside of dating a movie star.”

  “So, tonight’s an official date?”

  “You asked me to dinner and a stroll around town. Yep a date.”

  He flicked on the directional to pull out. “Your place or your mother’s?”

  Amanda checked the dashboard clock. It was close to 6:00, the family supper time, and her mother was a stickler for being on time. “Mom’s. I’m not really wet, except for my hair, which I can dry there,” she said as he pulled another U-turn. “Watch it, you’re going to get yourself in trouble with Indigo Bay’s finest.”

  “And the mayor?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Promises, promises. But I thought women liked bad boys.”

  She never had. Until now.

  He patted her knee and she almost jumped from the jolt. “Especially good women.”

  Good women. For whatever reason his quip the other night about not hitting on married women sounded in Amanda’s head. Her playful mood dimmed. She wasn’t as goody-goody as Eric thought. But their relationship was pretend. She glanced at his craggy profile and his pure maleness took her breath away. Except it was becoming less and less pretend. At least on her part.

  She looked out the side window at the sun returning from behind the rain clouds. She’d tell him tonight. Even if it ruined the date. Amanda blinked at the brightness of the evening sun.

  Even if it put a halt to what was growing between them.

  Amanda was unusually quiet on the drive home. He wracked his brain for something he might have inadvertently said. And came up with nothing. Her subdued manner became more pronounced after she took Lisa up on her offer to use her hairdryer and joined them at the dining room table. He was no psychologist, but he sensed that Amanda and Lisa shared a strong mother-daughter love, but there was some hidden line drawn between them.

  But he told himself that it wasn’t any of his business and went about regaling both women over the supper table with Hollywood and movie stories, along with a couple about him and Jeff as teens.

  “Anyone have room for dessert?” Lisa asked when they finished. “I have raspberry pie from Caroline’s and hand-churned vanilla ice cream.”

  “Mom, you should have said something before I had that second helping of your potato salad,” Amanda said with the most pep she’d shown since they’d arrived.

  “Tell you what. Why don’t you and Eric start your stroll with the boardwalk and beach and finish with Seaside Boulevard. Then you can come back and have dessert if you want.”

  “Great idea,” Eric said.

  Amanda agreed. “And can I borrow some better walking shoes? My sandals are comfortable but won’t be once they’re filled with sand.” She rose and began clearing the table.

  “Tennis shoes or slip-ons?” her mother asked.

  “Tennis shoes.”

  Lisa nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

  He stood and picked up his plate and flatware.

  “You don’t have to. I’ve got this, and you’re already doing so much around here.”

  “Hey, I’d be doing it if I were at Jeff and Sonja’s.” He followed her into the kitchen.

  Lisa was back when they returned to the dining room. “I’ll take care of the rest.” She handed her shoes to Amanda. “You two get off on your date.”

  Amanda stiffened. Or it looked to him like she had. But the stroll technically was a date, even if it was a pretend date. His cell phone buzzed. He pulled it out and glanced at it. “I should take this.” He left the women alone and stepped into the living room.

  Both were smiling when he stepped back into the dining room, and he had news that should keep that smile on Amanda’s face. “That was my PR manager. She got us an interview with the Charleston paper.”

  Amanda jumped up, eyes bright. “Yes!”

  Eric’s heart warmed. He knew the excitement was for the interview and what it could do for the animal shelter benefit, but he and his people could take credit for making it happen.

  “When?”

  “Thursday for the Wednesday before the gala. It’s the best she could do. The paper is having a holiday-doings feature page that day. And we’ll have to do it at the newspaper office.”

  “That’s not perfect. But still may attract some people to the gala and, definitely, people to the shelter tours.” She pulled out her cell phone. “I have to tell …”

  He stepped to her side and put his hand over hers on the phone. “Work is over.”

  She tensed again. This time he felt it in her hand and in his stomach.

  “You’re right.” She slipped her hand from under his and put her phone away. “We’re supposed to be viewing the holiday decorations around town.”

  Despite her words, he couldn’t say that she was any more relaxed or that she wasn’t looking at their stroll as part of her job.

  “Ready,” she asked after she had the tennis shoes tied.

  Physically, yes, after all the food he’d eaten. Emotionally, he had no idea. “Let’s go.”

  Once ou
tside, he took her hand, and she didn’t object. She didn’t say anything.

  “Did I say or do something in the car?” he blurted when they reached the corner of Seaside Boulevard to cross over to the boardwalk and the beach. “You’re so quiet.”

  “I’m enjoying the quiet. Being with you.”

  He’d take that as a positive.

  “You did say something. In the car.”

  Supper churned in his stomach as he tried to second guess what he might have said that bothered her.

  She stopped when they hit the boardwalk and looked up at him under the holly-wrapped streetlight. He was so tempted to dip down and kiss her before she could speak.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Too late. He straightened. “Anything.”

  “It’s none of my business, but did you cheat on your wives?”

  Eric started. That came out of nowhere. “I did not. Nor do I date married, or otherwise taken women.”

  Stricken was the only word for Amanda’s expression. “No, please don’t tell me you’re secretly engaged,” he pleaded with exaggerated humor. He knew she wasn’t. Jeff or Sonja would have warned him off. Unless… he choked for breath. Unless it was truly secret.

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “I didn’t think so.” His assurance didn’t bring any color back to her face.

  “But I was once.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Secretly engaged to a married man.”

  “The bad relationship when you were in grad school.” He pulled her into his arms. “I don’t need to know.”

  “Yes, you do,” her muffled voice said against his chest. “What I’m beginning to feel toward you is more than friendly.”

  Eric pulled her tight to him, needing time to gather his skyrocketing emotions. “Me, too. But I still don’t need to know.”

  She wrapped her arms as tightly around him. “What if I need to tell you before we can go on. So you know the whole me?”

  “Then I need to know.” Her hair tickled his nose, and he buried his face in its softness. He thought he already had a good idea of the whole Amanda. And he liked what he knew.

  She pulled away just enough to look up at him. “I loved him. My college instructor.”

  “I would expect that. Or you wouldn’t have accepted his proposal,” Eric said to cover the discomfort her saying loved had caused him. The only alternative was to kiss her senseless, so she’d forget the past and think only of him. He might be clumsy understanding women and feelings, but even he knew that wasn’t the right action, as compelling as it was.

  “I loved him until I popped into his office and saw him holding his wife, his pregnant wife, in his arms. His betrayal, the reality of his other life devastated me.” She cleared her throat. “I’d never felt so much for a man before, and I haven’t since. But I’m beginning to feel that way about you.”

  Eric lost all ability to breathe. “I …” He struggled to finally drag air into his lungs. “I have a confession, too. I don’t know if I’ve ever truly loved a woman or had one truly love me, plain old Eric Slade, not Eric Slade star, or for what I could do for, give to, them.”

  Amanda’s lips parted as if to speak.

  He placed his finger on them, giving himself a nanosecond to feel their softness. “Let me finish. My first wife, Chris’s mother, I thought I loved her and her me. But when everything fell apart, I wondered if it might have simply been teenage hormones between us. After that, all my romantic relationships were more of a game, where we both knew the rules.” He rested his forehead against hers. There. That didn’t paint him in a good light. But it was the truth, and Amanda needed to know it.

  “And what are we?” Her voice was a whisper on the ocean breeze.

  “Not a game,” he said truthfully. “But if we were a game, I’d be losing.”

  Their confessions made, they walked a couple more steps. “Good to the ‘not a game’,” Amanda said. “Because I won’t be a game, unless I know I am, so I can put my defenses up and play the game.”

  “No need. I can think of better things for you to use your energy for.”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead, filling her mind with some of those better things.

  She cleared and lifted her head. “I need to ask two things of you.”

  The expression that flickered across Eric’s face verged on terror. She pressed her lips together not to smile. “No subterfuge in our relationship, and what we’re doing for each other for the pretend-relationship agreement stays out of the real one. To be blunt, don’t try to buy my affections.”

  Seriousness replaced the terror on his face. “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all a woman can expect.”

  He tipped her chin back with his finger. “Shall we seal that with a kiss.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  As he dipped closer, the brilliant oranges and reds of the sun setting on the ocean silhouetted Eric’s features. Then his lips touched hers and she closed her eyes and let her emotions and his obvious skill take over.

  Finally, the squawk of a seagull brought her back to the beach.

  He lifted his head and blinked. Several times. “I don’t know about you,” he said in a gravelly tone. “But that rocked.”

  She shot him a smug look. “Thank you.” She stepped back beside him and slipped her hand in his.

  He tilted his head. “That’s it. Nothing for me?”

  “Nope.” Even though she would have sunk into the sand if he hadn’t had his strong arms tightly around her. “Your ego is big enough as it is.”

  “Okay, I’ll take that as it rocked you, too.”

  She laughed. “Exactly what I mean. Now, we’d better get back to work.”

  “Work?”

  “Yes, the important work of making sure the Indigo Bay holiday decorations are up to snuff.”

  “What do we do if we find an undecorated cottage or house? Hand out a citation?”

  “Of course not. I just like to see all the houses and business bright and sparkly. Look.” She pointed down the beach at a row of decorated cottages. “Dallas has all his cottages decorated, even the unrented ones.”

  Eric looked at her, rather than where she was pointing. “Dallas? The guy at Caroline’s.”

  “Yeah, Caroline’s son.”

  “You weren’t, uh …”

  She smiled at him. “Involved?” The womanly power that sluiced through her beat what she’d felt when she’d been declared the winner in the mayoral election. “I do declare. You aren’t going all jealous on me, are you?”

  “Me. Eric Slade?” He met her tease. “Never.”

  She squeezed his hand. She had no doubt the actor didn’t feel that emotion, unless required to in his role. The man, on the other hand, she was learning that he was a whole other story.

  They walked the beach listening to the sounds of the night. Eric dropped her hand and scooped up a soccer ball that blew across their path. The cottage they were in front of had a kid’s bike and other toys on the deck.

  He tossed the ball back and forth between his hands. “Shall we do your mayoral duty and return this property to the owner?” Eric grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the cottage, which didn’t have any decorations or outside lights on.

  “Okay. We can put it up by the stairs. I don’t want to disturb them.”

  When they reached the steps, an attractive woman around her age stepped out. Amanda didn’t know her. She had to be new to town or a holiday vacationer.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Before Amanda could introduce herself, a boy who looked to be about ten darted around the woman and onto the deck.

  “Mom! Do you know who that guy is? It’s Eric Slade. Remember the sign? It said he was here.”

  “I’m sure it’s … The woman turned on the flood light. “Eric Slade,” she said almost reverently.

  “In the flesh,” he said.

  “I’ve seen all yo
ur movies,” she gushed.

  Amanda clenched her teeth. If the woman had, she was picturing the same shirtless Eric in-the-flesh picture she was.

  “We found this soccer ball on the beach,” Eric said. “Yours?”

  The boy glanced around the deck. “Yeah. If I go get a magic marker, will you sign it?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself,” Amanda said into the lull in conversation the boy’s departure left. “Amanda Strickland, Indigo Bay’s mayor.”

  “Kassie Martin,” she said more to Eric than to Amanda. “Eric Slade. I still can’t believe it.”

  “Yeah. Amanda and I were checking out the holiday decorations.”

  While she appreciated him bringing her into the conversation, this would have been a perfect time for him to put his arm around her. Foster the appearance that they were a couple.

  Kassie pushed her long flowing blond hair back from her face. “We just moved in. I’ll be teaching at the high school after the holiday break. And haven’t had a chance to put up the decorations, Dallas, the landlord gave us.” She looked up at the roof peek, similar to Amanda’s cottage. “I’m not sure if Jaden and I could handle it by ourselves.”

  Amanda prided herself on not snorting. She’d decorated her cottage by herself several Christmas seasons.

  “I could come over one morning and help,” Eric said. “Amanda and I did her cottage in an afternoon.”

  “Would you, really? I didn’t know who to ask.”

  “You could have asked Dallas. He’s single and free,” Amanda mumbled under her breath, glad that Jaden’s tromping down the stair negated any chance of Eric hearing her.

  Jaden handed the marker to Eric, who signed the ball with a flourish. “There you go.”

  “Thanks.” Jaden took the ball and raced up the stairs past his mother with an “I’m going to text the guys.”

  “His friends at his old school,” Kassie said. “How does tomorrow morning sound for the decorations?”

  “Should be fine. About 10:00?” Eric called up to her.

  Amanda rubbed the toe of her mother’s tennis shoe in the sand. Ah. So she wasn’t invited. He knew she’d be working then. She had mayoral office hours and her other work. Not that Kassie had asked for her help.