by Jessica Berg
“Great. Now I’m a walking cliché.” She pulled herself to her feet and brushed the dust off her butt. A sound of scampering feet startled Grace. “Mrs. S., you scared me to death.” With a swift motion, she scooped up her cat and cuddled it to her chest. Mrs. Sloucombe, not one for quality time with humans, wriggled and growled in protest. “Oh, shut up, you poor excuse for a pet. The least you could do after all I’ve done for you is let me hold you.”
“I told you she wouldn’t care if you died.”
“Phoebe,” Grace edged closer and sniffed, “you smell better.”
“I’m never talking to the man again. I don’t care if he looks like a god who got into a bar fight.” Phoebe stomped her foot. Mrs. Sloucombe eyed her with disdain. “And you, cat. One more look from you, and I’ll skin you and make you into a hat.” Mrs. Sloucombe blinked and looked away. Phoebe glared at the back of its head. “That cat hates me. She has a hidden lair where she plots secret ways to kill me in my sleep.”
Grace scratched Mrs. Sloucombe’s head. “She loves you. She doesn’t know how to show it.” As if in disagreement, the cat glared at Phoebe and wrestled out of Grace’s arms and sashayed toward the pond. “She’s taking the divorce hard.” She ignored Phoebe’s snort. “I’m serious. Mrs. S. loved Kevin.”
“Birds of a feather.”
Mrs. Sloucombe ignored a mouse scurrying across the yard. “Kevin was just as lazy unless it came to chasing skirts.” She paused for a moment and listened to the sound of improvement. Miter saws whined, nail guns grunted, and sanders whirred. “It’s happening, isn’t it, Pheebs? This is finally coming together. I can’t help but think that Dad is looking down on us. He’s pretty proud.”
Phoebe opened her mouth to reply but was cut short when Dominick walked through the door. He gave a prize-winning smile. Phoebe melted in her shoes. Pushover.
“I was wondering if I could have the pleasure of your company tonight at the diner. It’s their all-you-can-eat shrimp buffet tonight. Popular with the locals. You can mingle with your new neighbors and maybe find ones you’ve met a little more appealing.”
Something told Grace to decline. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and men who could topple safety walls far away.
But before she could give a negative answer, Phoebe clapped her hands. “We’d love to go. What time?”
“It’s best to get there early. Five-thirty?”
Phoebe gave a thumbs up. “Sounds like a plan, Stan.”
Dominick blinked, returned the gesture, and walked away.
“‘Sounds like a plan, Stan?’” Grace mocked her sister. “Where did that come from?”
Phoebe blushed. “I have no idea. But he makes me have the IQ of a cucumber.” She eyed Grace. “What’s the huffing and puffing all about? Don’t you like shrimp.”
“It’s not that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s the company I’ll be in.”
“What’s wrong with Dominick?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem.” Grace kicked at the porch railings. “I’m not ready for … these feelings.”
“I can go tell him I forgot I hated shrimp or something and say we can’t go.”
“No, thanks, though. I’ll suck it up and not let him get to me. That’s all. I mean, how hard can it be?”
“I wouldn’t count on it being easy.” Phoebe bounced. “Oh, my gosh! I forgot to tell you about my little drive with Noah.”
Grace sat on the bottom step. “Tell all.”
“Well. Oh, gosh. My heart might explode.” Phoebe fanned herself. “We’re driving, and he starts asking about me and where I grew up and what I do. Just cursory things, but he was interested in what I said. No one is interested in what I have to say.”
“And then what happened?”
Phoebe toyed with the edge of her shorts. “He offered to punch Dominick’s lights out for me.”
“How romantic.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
Grace frowned. “You just met him. Be careful and take it easy.”
Phoebe pouted and sat next to Grace. “I do know him. He’s thirty, a teacher, and a volunteer firefighter. He’s the fire inspector for the county, and he likes rhubarb.” Phoebe hung her head. “Doesn’t matter anyway. He probably thinks I’m a dork.”
“But, sweetie, you are a dork.” Grace drew her arm across Phoebe’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “That’s what makes you Phoebe.”
“I am unique.”
“You can say that again.”
Chapter 8
The aroma of fried shrimp, shrimp scampi, and shrimp Alfredo filled Reed’s Diner, and Grace took an appreciative sniff.
“Yoo-hoo!” Annie waved from a booth to their right. Dickie gave a half-hearted wave and went back to stuffing his face with fried shrimp. Grace scooted past a few waiters to the Wisel’s booth and stood in the aisle, Phoebe rocking back and forth awkwardly on her heels.
“My girls, I understand you met our son.” Annie all but cooed.
“Yes, he’s very nice.”
Annie glowed. “He makes us proud. He teaches at the high school, and he’s the only fire inspector in the county.”
“I bet you don’t get to spend much time with him beings he’s so busy.”
“With him living here, I was sure we’d see him more. But he always has a previous engagement.”
Dickie snorted, and Annie shushed him. The girls made their excuses and moved on to find an empty booth. Grace’s stomach grumbled, and her mouth watered at the steaming pans of food lined up in yummy precision, each promising a different flavor and texture.
“Phoebe, if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to chew on your arm.”
A fat man heaped shrimp scampi and mashed potatoes on his plate. She clutched Phoebe’s arm. “He’s going to eat it all.”
“Want me to tackle him?”
Grace chuckled at the visual. “No. I wouldn’t want him to get hurt.”
A warm hand wrapped around Grace’s upper arm. “Hey. We’ve got a table on the other end.” Dominick grinned at her. “You look like you could gnaw on the furniture.”
“If it tastes like shrimp, I’m game.”
“Good to know.” He led them to a booth toward the back.
A man with spiky blonde hair sat with their back to them. Phoebe squeezed Grace’s arm and whispered a plea for help.
She patted Phoebe’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“Look who I found?” Dominick slapped Noah’s shoulder.
Noah’s teeth flashed against his tanned skin. “Hey, ladies.” He scooted over toward the window and patted the seat next to him. “Phoebe, glad you aren’t too traumatized by this morning’s events.”
“Yeah, thanks to Dominick, I’ll never go near another pipe ever again.”
Noah chuckled and glanced at his friend. “Yeah, he’s known for getting his friends and associates in some sticky situations.”
“Hey now. You aren’t telling the whole story. Don’t be putting ideas into their heads. Their imaginations are creative enough.”
Grace, caught between the window and Dominick, pushed herself as far as she could to the window. The man, intent on torturing her, wore faded jeans with a slight rip at the knee and a black polo shirt stretching across his chest. He oozed sex appeal, and she didn’t want anything to do with it. She glanced at his smiling profile and shaggy brown hair. Maybe she did want a little something to do with it. Cooling her thoughts, she sipped at her ice water and gazed at the buffet.
“Hungry?” Dominick tapped the back of her hand.
“Starved.”
Dominick scooted out, and they all filed to the buffet line to pile their plates high with shrimp and sides.
“You two went to high school together?” Phoebe asked as they seated themselves again.
“Much to the dismay of many teachers.” Noah’s dimple winked at Phoebe. “I don’t take any of the bla
me, though. I was a follower. Dominick was the instigator.”
“Lies. All lies.” Dominick licked scampi juice off his fingers. “Bruce, number three of the musketeers, usually came up with all the hare-brained ideas.”
Noah wiped his mouth. “He’s getting hitched next weekend. Can’t see how his future bride will put up with him.”
“I heard she bought a cattle prod.” Dominick took a swig from his Sam Adam’s bottle. “She’ll need it.”
“You’re the pot calling the kettle black. Any woman stupid enough to marry you will need a little something more than a cattle prod.”
A blush crept over Dominick’s face. “I thought you were my friend. I see where your loyalties lie. Wave a couple of good-looking women in your face, and you turn traitor.”
“We all have a breaking point.” Noah waved a fried shrimp at Dominick and plopped it into his mouth. “Mine happens to be beautiful, mysterious ladies.”
Phoebe shot a glance at Grace. An invisible S.O.S. signal. She knew her sister well enough to guess what was going on in Phoebe’s head. The fact that Noah looked pretty fine in his khaki shorts, a yellow button-up shirt, and leather sandals, was not helping at all. She gave Phoebe a supportive smile but was only rewarded with a nervous grin.
“Noah, I see your parents are here tonight.”
“Yup. Good ole’ mom and dad.” Noah tugged on his ear. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my parents, but they are possibly the weirdest people on the face of the earth.”
“Maybe you’re a by-product of the milkman.” Dominick eased out of the booth. He held out his hand to Grace. “Did you want some more?”
“Maybe a tad bit more.”
She followed Dominick to the buffet line and piled her plate full of food. He grinned as she breezed past the salad section without a glance.
“Not big on veggies?”
“Not when there’s fried food around. I might eat a carrot or two to keep up my 20/20 vision, but other than that, raw veggies are for the birds.”
“Rabbits,” Dominick corrected.
“Whatever.” With a plate piled high with food, she made her way back to the booth. “What have you two been talking about?”
“I was telling him the story about our first week at our new school.” Phoebe twirled her finger around a stray piece of hair. “It’s a classic”
Grace grimaced. “Yeah, if you’re into tragedy.”
“What happened?” Dominick scooted in after Grace, his shoulder brushing hers.
Phoebe giggled. “We were the new girls during my freshman and Grace’s sophomore year. Grace’s bubbly personality and hare-brained schemes awarded her a lot of friends. A good thing because I was the shy one. One day during lunch, she convinced us girls it would be a great idea to moon the school superintendent, a man who was a little grumpy because his head was as smooth as a baby’s butt.” She giggled at the memory and sipped at her water. “Sorry. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Us girls lined up in a row and waited for Superintendent Wick to come out of the school. At his approach, we bent over and dropped our pants.”
Grace snorted a laugh at the memory. “Oh, my gosh. We were total dweebs, weren’t we?” She patted the corner of her eyes. “It was all Phoebe’s fault I got caught too.”
“My fault?” Phoebe exclaimed. “Who can’t run and pull up their pants at the same time? Huh?”
“Details, details,” Grace mumbled into her drink. “You fell into me first, pulling up your Strawberry Shortcake underwear.”
Phoebe sucked in a mortified breath. “We pinky swore you’d never tell another living soul about those underwear.” She shot an embarrassed glance at Noah, who sat red-faced from trying to contain a laugh. “Go ahead. Laugh. Phoebe wears Strawberry Shortcake underwear.”
“Wears?” Grace asked.
Phoebe blushed and ducked her head, muttering, “They’re cute.”
They burst out laughing. Phoebe stuck out her chin. “It’s not that bad. They’re thongs.”
The laughing escalated to howling.
She crossed her arms and huffed. “All right, guys. It wasn’t that funny. Besides, Grace still wears —”
“Don’t you dare,” Grace exclaimed. “I wasn’t the one who spilled the beans about your current character of choice on your underwear. You can’t tell.”
“No. No.” Dominick wiped his eyes and grinned. “Please, Phoebe, continue. I’m strangely intrigued.”
Grace speared her sister with a glare, daring her to tattle. A smirk spread across Phoebe’s face. She crooked her finger at the guys, and they leaned forward. She whispered something in their ears. They roared with laughter, and their eyes immediately darted toward Grace.
Dominick’s chocolate brown eyes locked with Grace’s. “The information I just received is strangely hot.” He choked on a laugh. “Could you please tell me what day of the week it is?”
She stuck her tongue out at her three companions. “Hardy har har! Next time you need a calendar, you’ll be wishing you had me around.”
Dominick’s eyes searched hers. “I already do.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught. Unable to reply, she sipped her water and cleared her throat. “Noah, beings mystery man over here won’t tell me about his life, maybe you can fill me in.”
“Well, my pal spent some time in the military. In fact, he was a—”
“The ladies don’t want to be told boring stories about me. Besides, it’s getting a little late.”
Noah’s gaze flicked from his friend to his empty plate and back again. “Dominick’s a little shy. Risky past and all.”
His shoulder no longer touched hers. His knee, which had been petting hers all night, quit its flirtations as well. Confused, she scooted over toward the window again. No sense in pining for a man who clearly didn’t want her. At her attempt to grab the bill, Dominick snatched it.
“No girl pays when she’s on a date with me.”
Date? She played with the word in her head. This wasn’t a date. Or it wasn’t any longer. “You must have a pretty loose interpretation of the word date.”
“Date? Oh, yeah. It’s a figure of speech. I wouldn’t get your Friday panties all bunched in a knot.”
She gaped at him. “You’re an incorrigible man. And besides, figures of speech are metaphors and similes.”
He plunked a credit card over the bill. “Don’t tell me you’re an English teacher.”
“Would that be a problem?”
Noah barked out a laugh. “Yeah, every time he’d look at you, he’d see Ms. Thorpe, a witchy bat whose knee-high nylons never stayed above her knees.”
Grace stuck out her chest and slightly tilted her chin. “I went to school to become a librarian.”
He blinked in surprise. “Where’s the tight bun, glasses, and tweed suit? Aren’t those a prerequisite to being a librarian?”
“You don’t exactly exude the carpenter vibe,” she retorted.
A dimple flashed in his cheek. “Tell me, Ms. Sherlock, what exactly do I ‘exude?’”
Grace tapped a finger to her lip, her gaze flicking from his slightly crooked nose to his scar. A five o’clock shadow gave his rugged face a dangerous appeal. And those eyes, haughty yet haunted. Her insides went mushy. She cleared her throat and jokingly suggested, “Mercenary.”
“Mercenary? You do have an active imagination, don’t you?” His smile didn’t make his eyes crinkle. Unreadable and dark, they gazed into hers. Her heartbeat quickened, and she tore her eyes away, making excuses why she and Phoebe needed to return to the hotel. Dominick remained quiet and didn’t persuade her otherwise.
The night humidity hung in the air and soaked through her clothes as she left the diner. Her lungs struggled to expand, her mind raced, trying to figure out the encrypted information received. She glanced behind her. Phoebe pointed at the advertisement for the Puggles. She must have mentioned Grace’s name because both Dominick and Noah glanced at her. Noah grinned widely at her, but Dominick, st
ill serious, studied her through the glass doors.
She broke eye contact and glanced up in time to catch a falling star cascade to the horizon. She made a wish and watched the night sky blink and flash in its splendor. Her father had taught her most of the constellations. Time had done its thing, however, and she struggled to name all but the simple ones. When did I forget to look up?
The jingling doorbells ripped her from her reverie. She wiped at her eyes. “It’s about time.”
“We were looking at the ad for the Puggles,” Phoebe explained. “The guys think they look funny, but they’d make a great little pet. It’s a Beagle and a Pug combined into one cute package. Who wouldn’t want one?”
“Yeah. I guess … if you like small dogs. Um, it’s getting late. I gotta get home. I’ll see you all later.” Dominick smiled at Phoebe, punched Noah in the arm, and walked to his truck, ignoring Grace.
Grace fumbled in her purse for her keys and pretended his slight didn’t cut. Her eyes stung. She bit the inside of her cheek, said goodbye to Noah, and firmly grasped Phoebe’s arm, dragging her toward the car.
Phoebe hummed in the passenger seat. “That was fun. We need to do that again.”
Grace grunted a response and pulled into the hotel parking lot. The lighted Super 8 sign glowed in the thick darkness. The lady at the front desk nodded a greeting, and Grace followed a skipping Phoebe down the carpeted hallway.
“Is something the matter?” Phoebe asked as Grace unlocked the room door.
Grace flipped on the light switch and threw her purse in the corner. “No.”
Phoebe bit her lip and locked the door behind them. Giving Grace a wide berth, Phoebe readied herself for bed.
“Do you have to hum?” Grace demanded.
Phoebe stopped brushing her teeth. “Just because you’re not happy, doesn’t mean I can’t be. Whatever happened to put you in a bad mood, don’t take it out on me.”
Grace flopped face-first on the bed. “Sorry, Pheebs. I’m a hot mess right now.” She played with the hem of the pillow. “Did you ever get a present thinking it would be a certain thing, but when you opened it, it was something totally different?”
Phoebe spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. “Yeah. Why?”
