PAR FOR CINDERELLA

by MCCARTY, PETIE

  “Arrest?”

  Byford nodded. “Louie said he’d testify, and he will.”

  “I’m grateful,” Aidan said.

  “I wish more of us had seen it. We’d all help too.”

  “I appreciate that.” Aidan got a warm feeling from these hardworking men wanting to help him, but he suspected it was more of a payback for Bartow. “The mayor is making life tough for the shrimpers, I take it.”

  Byford picked up his draft again, drained half of it. “The Gulf is doing that. Bartow is trying to feed off the leftovers.”

  “Offering loans for a part-share of your boat?” Aidan guessed.

  Shock widened Byford’s eyes, then suspicion chilled them. Aidan put his palms up. “I just want to help.”

  The suspicion in the shrimper’s eyes dissipated, and something close to despair filled the gaps. Byford slumped and exhaled hard, then chugged the last bit of beer.

  “I got to get home,” he said gruffly and clapped Aidan on the back. “Thanks for the beer.” A little of his former gaiety gleamed in his eyes. “And the laugh.” He chuckled as he headed for the door.

  Byford hadn’t confessed, but Aidan would bet one of his own holding companies that Bartow had made his loan play for the shrimp boats just like Neal’s business. But why, if the year was bad and the shrimp weren’t running? Then it hit him. Properly outfitted and maintained, shrimp boats could travel long distances for the shrimp. It just meant longer periods away from home.

  Before the thought had time to depress him, someone plopped down on the bar stool next to him. A very, beautiful someone. The night was looking up. Dark-haired, sloe-eyed, and a figure to make a man weep, the woman turned a sultry smile on him even before she had made herself comfortable on her bar stool.

  Aidan smiled back. He liked women. No, he loved women. He loved their beauty, their scent, their desire to please. Therein lay the problem with women. The desire to please, to get their hands on his money. He played along, enjoyed himself, and protected his assets. In more ways than one. That’s why he’d felt a spark for Lily Foster. She hadn’t given a flip for his money.

  Casey Stuart liked him without any money. Wasn’t that the same thing? He groaned. Ever since his auspicious arrival in Cypress Key, when Aidan saw a pretty woman, Casey’s face would materialize, like it just did.

  What is wrong with me?

  “New in town?” Her voice came off as throaty and sultry as her smile.

  Had she actually purred?

  He’d known other women who could purr, but this was . . . better.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” he said and purposely gave her his most charming smile.

  Take that, Casey Stuart.

  “Thought so. Hadn’t seen you before.”

  She leaned toward him, right hand on the bar for balance, and Aidan suspected the angle was meant to give him visual access to her ample—more than ample—cleavage. The maneuver, no doubt, practiced.

  She held out a hand. “Deedee Bartow.”

  My luck? I should have known.

  Had she meant to aim her hand toward his groin? He shook the proffered appendage.

  “Aidan Crosse,” he replied, then quickly added, “with an e.”

  Didn’t need to have her Google him for damn sure. The little temptress didn’t let go his hand after two gentle shakes, so he gave her his what-are-you-up-to? stare.

  She chuckled, low in her throat. Damn, she was good. Probably learned from her stepmother, which reminded him this girl may have been hunting for him. Two could play that game. Little Miss Sultry should have plenty of dirt on her father. Dirt that Aidan might need.

  Since she wouldn’t release his hand, he lifted hers to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Oooh,” she exhaled breathlessly. “The pleasure is definitely all mine. My stepmother promised you would turn my little ole head.”

  Deedee slithered forward—before he could decipher or prepare for her assault—and slammed her lips against his, practically inhaling him on contact. Surprise slowed his reaction quotient, and she used her advantage to force his lips apart with her tongue, giving new meaning to the term alpha female. He had to palm her shoulders and press her back before she choked him with her tongue.

  Holy hell.

  He resisted the urge to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth—never one to hurt a woman’s feelings—as he righted her on her bar stool.

  Furtively shifting his stool backward while he regained his own seat, he managed a smile. “You pack a powerful welcome.”

  She started to shift forward again, and he threw up a hand. “One was enough.”

  She frowned.

  “Um, for now.” He still needed information.

  She brightened considerably.

  He doubted many men could control her foray or would even try.

  “So . . . you’re the mayor’s daughter.”

  Her smile turned downright devious. “I am. And it’s always a good idea to be friends with the mayor.” She flicked out her pink serpentine tongue and licked across her plump and no doubt well-and-often-kissed lips. “And the mayor’s family.”

  “I’m sure it is. I’m new in town. Maybe you can advise me on what I need to know about Cypress Key.”

  She eased forward again, and a male hand latched onto her arm before she could reach Aidan.

  “She’s not doing any advising for the likes of you,” PJ Bartow snarled. “Time to go, Sis.”

  “No, and let me go.” She jerked her arm free. “This is Aidan. He’s new here.”

  “Not for long. He’s nothing but a caddy over at Frank Stuart’s rundown golf course.”

  “You are?” Deedee’s eyes went wide, but not with the disappointment Aidan had expected. Hard to read, but the glimmer looked more like appraisal.

  “Should’ve known you’d be a caddy. Par for the course for a lowlife like you.” PJ glared his disapproval.

  No way would Aidan bother to disabuse him of his foolish notion. “I helped Ernest Delby. I could even help someone like you,” he needled.

  Deedee snickered. Bless her throat-tickling soul.

  PJ jerked his sister right off her bar stool and had to steady her when she stutter-stepped. “I’m the best golfer in Cypress Key. Hell, the whole county,” he boasted, loud enough for anyone who might have overheard Aidan’s remark. “Ask anyone.”

  He started for the door, dragging Deedee in his wake.

  “I’ll see you around,” she called back to Aidan.

  “No, you won’t,” PJ growled, but saved his glower for Aidan.

  Deedee looked back and winked.

  ~ ~ ~

  Aidan had worried about his turn at cooking breakfast the following morning until he’d noticed Talley’s Bakery on his drive home from the Sand Dollar Tavern the evening before. He rose at dawn—took the Jeep since he still had the keys—and headed for the bakery. He spotted another Cypress Key Seafood Festival poster in the window on his way inside. Must be a big deal for the town.

  He bought a dozen donuts, all flavors, from a nice lady named Grace and laid them out on a platter in Frank’s kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee in the coffeemaker. He felt pretty good about his effort until Frank and Casey appeared in the kitchen at seven. Frank had grunted, “Donuts,” and Casey had claimed omelets to be a healthier breakfast that would actually stay with them until lunch.

  As if I could make an omelet.

  Aidan didn’t agree with her complaint because the donut in his jacket pocket would stay with him most of the way to lunch. He and Frank grabbed a second cup of coffee to go and headed for the marina for an early nine o’clock tour Casey had scheduled. She wandered back to her bedroom presumably to get ready for her doctor�
��s appointment. Mamie would come by to take her.

  Aidan found he missed Casey’s chatter on the drive to the tour boat. Frank sat silent in the Jeep’s passenger seat, lost in his own thoughts, and didn’t seem to notice when Aidan got out at the mini-mart for ice. He figured now wasn’t the time to mention his suspicion that Bartow had made a play for some or most of the shrimp trawlers. Plenty of time for that conversation later.

  Once on the tour boat, he didn’t wait for instructions from Frank. He busied himself with the same tasks Casey had assigned him the day before, while Frank gave the motor a once-over and checked the gas and oil levels. Aidan glanced up when Frank loomed over him. The older man frowned as Aidan lined up the snack bags by variety.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Frank asked and reseated his ball cap.

  “Lining up the snacks by variety.”

  Frank’s eyebrows went to his hairline. “Why? Are you OCD?”

  “No. Casey claims the guests prefer them that way.”

  Frank laughed so hard he doubled over. “Boy, you really pissed Casey off, didn’t you?”

  “Dammit, she played me,” Aidan muttered.

  “She sure did. You’re lucky she didn’t have you lining up the sodas too.”

  When Aidan didn’t react, Frank lifted the lid on the cooler and started laughing all over again.

  “She’s a sneaky one,” Frank said, and wiped the tears from his eyes. “You got to stay one jump ahead of her, or she’ll run right over you.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Thankfully, the first guests arrived, and Frank couldn’t torment him further. The tour went off without a hitch though Frank’s spiel was noticeably shorter than Casey’s had been. The guests didn’t seem to notice and tipped the men as well as the previous day’s group.

  Frank had called Casey to see how her appointment with Dr. Davis had gone once they set their guests loose for the walking tour of Cypress Key island. The guy released a visible sigh of relief when given the news she had received a clean bill of health and was headed over to the golf course.

  Aidan breathed his own deep sigh of relief at the news but kept his hidden from Casey’s nosey uncle. He didn’t need to explain his immense relief when he didn’t understand it himself. He never worried about women he dated. He let them take care of themselves. Until this one. Now he had an inexplicable need to be sure Casey was safe and okay.

  Frank hung on to his cheerful mood when they reached shore, and like Casey, tried to hand Aidan the tip money. Like the day before, Aidan told him to put the cash toward his bail, which started Frank chortling all over again.

  Stuart wasn’t laughing, however, when they arrived at his golf course near noon and spied a giant light-brown X crisscrossing the ninth and the eighteenth greens.

  Frank stared at his greens in disbelief. “What the hell happened?”

  “Maybe your mower has a hydraulic leak,” Aidan suggested as they disembarked.

  Casey had sprinted out of the pro shop and reached Frank’s truck in time to hear Aidan.

  “In an X design? Get real!” she cried. “Besides, this happened last night, and hydraulic fluid wouldn’t turn the grass brown yet.” She turned to Frank. “Herbicide did this, and the backpack sprayer in the maintenance shed is empty. I filled it yesterday myself.”

  Frank frowned. “I locked the shed before I left last night.”

  “The shed was open when I went down to check.” She glared at Aidan. “Where were you last night?”

  “Why do you care?” he snapped back.

  “Because we have eighteen greens ruined by herbicide, and you knew where we kept the sprayer and where we kept the keys to the shed.”

  Aidan eyed her incredulously. “You think I burned your greens?”

  Hell, he would never intentionally hurt any golf course.

  “No!” Frank intervened. “Just hold on, Casey.”

  “No, I won’t hold on,” she retorted. “He doesn’t like taking orders or working for us, and he was mad because I made him caddy for Ernest.” She waved her arm at the injured turf on the ninth green. “Looks like payback to me.”

  “Why you little brat!” Aidan barked. “I happen to like working for Frank, and I ought to take you over my knee for accusing me and give you the spanking you deserve.”

  Casey gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Oh, wouldn’t I?”

  “Now hold on, both of you,” Frank thundered. “Calm the hell down!”

  Aidan matched Casey’s glare with one of his own. He knew his was loaded with anger, resentment, and . . . yes, hurt.

  “Just tell us where you were,” Frank said, much calmer now.

  Aidan’s glower shifted to Casey’s uncle. “You too?”

  Frank’s palms came up. “Hell no, but Casey won’t shut up about this until you say.”

  Casey and Aidan both scowled back at him.

  “I was at the Sand Dollar listening to Byford Traynor tell me how Bartow wants to get his hands on Byford’s shrimp trawler. And getting seduced by Deedee Bartow.”

  His response made Frank growl and Casey gasp.

  Good! Serves the little hellion right.

  “You say all eighteen greens are burned?” Frank asked Casey.

  She nodded. “Every last one.”

  “Come on, Aidan. We’ll get some lunch upstairs, and then you can help me paint the burn marks. After that, I’ll show how to run the golf ball picker.”

  “No, I need him today.” Casey’s chin came up.

  Frank swung around to face her. “No, you don’t. When you learn to get along with Aidan and not play tricks, like making him line up sodas in the cooler, then maybe I’ll let you supervise him. For now—” He thumb-poked his chest. “—I need him.”

  “But the charity tournament starts at one-thirty,” she reminded him.

  Frank had mentioned the tournament the night he posted Aidan’s bail. Something about a benefit to help the Cypress Key Animal Shelter. How big could that tournament be in a town this small? Just one more thing his new resort could help with in the future. Bring in some heavy hitters. Aidan’s golf resorts were built like small villages with enough third-party food, entertainment, and retail venues for guests to be happy without ever leaving the complex.

  “You and Rory can check the players in and load the carts just fine,” Frank informed her. “Besides, the benefit sponsors will be here to assign foursomes and help collect money. Rory did show up, right?”

  “Yeah. Late again. Said he had to work on the restaurant books.”

  Frank exhaled hard. “Have a talk with the kid. Aidan and I are grabbing a quick sandwich and then getting my green turf paint to cover up the burned grass before everyone arrives. We’ll be ready by the shotgun start at one-thirty.”

  Frank locked the Jeep and headed for the stairs, his steps heavy. Aidan felt bad for the guy but didn’t follow right away. “You know damn well I didn’t burn those greens,” he growled at Casey, knowing he should’ve let it go and gone with Frank, but the accusation had stuck in his craw.

  “Why? Because you said you were out with the town floozy?”

  Her flashing green eyes had gone dark as emeralds, and anger flushed her cheeks. He suffered an overwhelming urge to kiss that scowl right off her face. Knew he could do it too. Not arrogance, but the truth. Based on the way she’d melted in his arms every time he had kissed her so far.

  Her hands fisted at her hips, and her chin came back up. “Don’t even think about bringing Deedee to your room in my house some night. I’ll throw you out on your ear.”

  What the hell is wrong with me? This girl needs a spanking not kissing.

  “Jealousy doesn’t become you,” he snapped and jogged after Frank, enjoying the echo of her gasp
of outrage. He caught Stuart at the stairs.

  The older man’s brows raised. “That didn’t take long.”

  “If I’d stayed a second longer, I’d’ve spanked her or strangled her,” Aidan groused, not caring what Frank thought of his comment. He’d had just about enough of this job.

  Frank actually chuckled. “I’ve had a few of those days myself while raising her. Let’s eat and then paint turf. Hell of a time for this to happen.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I know, son, and I’m pretty sure I know who did.”

  “Bartow?”

  “One of them, anyway.”

  The two wolfed down Mamie’s roast beef sandwiches, split up the can of green turf paint, and covered the burned marks on all eighteen greens in time to help roust out the remaining carts for tournament late arrivals.

  The shot-gun start went off at one-forty-five, and Frank took Aidan to their maintenance shed to show him the nuances of driving the ancient garden tractor to which they hitched the motorized trailer that scooped golf balls off the driving range.

  “She’s a little fussy,” Frank said of the tractor, as if she were a persnickety female. “If she sputters on a turn, goose her so she doesn’t die. We might never get her started again.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Aidan promised, “and thanks for rescuing me today.”

  “I really did need you. Though you do seem to bring out the worst in my niece.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Frank allowed. “She tends to shove away guys she’s interested in before they have a chance to hurt her. Every guy she has ever cared about has run off on her, except me.” He sighed deeply. “Even her dad.”

  “But I thought he died.”

  “He did, but that’s a long story for another time.” Frank exhaled hard. “Casey just had a knee-jerk reaction today in anger. Plus, you had to go and mention Deedee Bartow. That little hellcat tried to poach every friend or boyfriend Casey every had. All I’m asking is for you to be patient with her. She loves this golf course like I do. That’s why she won’t go to work for one of the big golf resorts in Clearwater or Tampa. She’s afraid to leave me, afraid I’ll lose the course if she’s not here to help me and watch out for me.”