This memoir was promising to be an in-depth historical article on steroids. Born before the Depression, Ray had seen nearly three-quarters of the twentieth century, and before long, his generation would be gone. Firsthand accounts like Ray’s would be all the world had left of such an important time in history.
A reality that sharpened Liza’s determination to get this right.
“I asked my agent to make sure you understood that I’ve never written a memoir before. I appreciate you still giving me this opportunity.”
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my story.”
Flattering, but Liza had done nothing to deserve such faith. “There are countless other writers with experience in this genre. Why me?”
Ray slowly rose from his rocker. “Because you are bestselling author L. R. Teller.”
Liza debated whether to correct him with the truth—that she was a broke writer who’d gotten lucky with her first book and didn’t deserve one ounce of his misplaced confidence. But then she remembered how badly she needed this job and kept her mouth shut.
“I’m heading out,” said Kendall as he stepped onto the back deck. “Ray, Francine is picking you up at eight thirty for your appointment in Charleston.”
Liza was relieved to see he’d found a jacket. Even so, enough skin peeked out above the zipper to remind her how good he’d looked without it. Keeping her gaze locked on the distance, she failed to see the dog trotting her way until he landed in her lap.
An oomph escaped her lips as his weight settled on her thighs and his hot breath hit her in the face. The two men continued to chat as if she wasn’t being accosted by a furry beast.
“I’ll be ready,” the older man replied, shuffling past her chair. “I want you to show Liza around the island tomorrow.”
“What?” she said, struggling to keep her face a safe distance from the dog’s tongue. She’d tried pushing him off to no avail, and dang if he wasn’t smiling at her again. “I don’t need to be shown around.”
“Ray, I’ve got things to do,” Kendall added, clearly not liking the idea any more than she did. “Including fixing her cart so she can show herself around.”
With an impressive air of authority, her host stood firm, if slightly bent, and flashed a stern look. “Nonsense. I want her to feel comfortable here, and riding around with some simple map isn’t going to tell her anything about the island. You know Haven better than anyone, so you should give her the tour.”
Kendall’s eyes met hers in a clear plea to back him up, but she wasn’t about to argue with her employer before they’d even started working together. If nothing else, they could drive down the road and back and let Ray think they’d covered more ground.
“And don’t drive her in a circle and bring her back,” Ray said, as if reading Liza’s thoughts. “She needs to know where she can go and what parts to avoid while she’s here.”
There were parts to avoid? Liza didn’t like the sound of that.
“Come on,” Kendall pleaded. “Let Francine take her when you guys get back.”
“You’ll take her in the morning, and that’s that.” Tilting his hat back, Ray looked down at Liza. “I see at least one of them has taken a liking to you. Amos doesn’t approve of everyone, and he’s obviously a fine judge of character. Can’t say the same for his owner.”
Without another word, the older man shuffled into the house, leaving Liza alone with the beast and his dog.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling bad about the situation. Regardless of whatever seemed to be going on between them, Kendall shouldn’t be forced to spend time with her. “If you want to tell me the areas to stay away from, I’m willing to pretend I had a tour.”
He sighed in surrender. “It’s fine. I’ll be here before nine.” To her surprise, the corner of his mouth tilted up as he watched her. The hint of a grin had an odd effect on her ability to breathe. “I thought you didn’t like dogs.”
Liza followed his gaze to the pit bull in her lap. She was scratching behind his ear as his eyes rolled shut in doggy bliss. “I don’t.” The reply was in direct conflict with her actions. “But I guess he’s kind of cute.”
“Ray was right. Amos doesn’t like a lot of people.”
“Then I’ll take this forced proximity as a compliment.” The words made her realize that’s exactly what the impending tour would be—forced proximity. If the encounter in the kitchen was any indication, time alone with Kendall James would not be good for her peace of mind. Though it would likely be good for her other parts. “I’m serious about tomorrow. You don’t have to take me anywhere.”
He slid his hands into the jacket’s pockets. “Don’t worry. So long as I keep my shirt on, we should be okay. Come on, Amos.”
The dog leaped off her lap to obediently follow his master, while Liza stared at the empty doorway. Was he implying that she might jump his bones if he went shirtless again? That what had happened in the kitchen had been one-sided, and he’d merely been an innocent, shirtless victim? Bull. Crap. He’d been just as aroused as she’d been, and Liza hadn’t been the one traipsing around half-naked.
The only thing bigger than this man’s muscles was his ego, and by the end of their tour, she’d make it very clear that his delicate virtue was in no danger from her.
Chapter 4
Kendall pulled up to Ray’s place at eight forty-five to find Liza waiting on the front stairs. He was relieved to see that her gauzy dress reached her ankles, so there would be no thigh sightings to distract him.
He’d taken a long cold shower before bed and gotten little sleep before the sun penetrated his bedroom windows. Dragging ass, he’d hiked down to the beach for his daily run before showering again, feeding Amos, and then heading to the garage with his coffee to work on Liza’s cart. After less than an hour of getting nowhere, he knew the battery was the problem. He put in a call to a parts shop in Mount Pleasant and sent a text to Francine with the pickup information, and then Kendall found himself with nothing to do.
Idle hands meant plenty of time to mull over the new thorn in his side. Liza Teller was as smart as she was beautiful, with eyes like sapphires and a mouth that could put him in his place one minute and make him want to taste it the next. Spending a couple of hours with her pressed against his side would be a true test, but Kendall didn’t see any way around it. Ray wanted her to see the island, so she’d see it. But as soon as his tour-guide duties ended, she was all Ray’s.
“You’re ready early,” he said, turning in his seat to rub Amos’s head.
“You said before nine.” She rose to her feet and brushed off her dress. “That wasn’t exactly specific.” The navy-colored dress, covered in pink-and-blue flowers, wrapped around her long legs as she removed a wide-brimmed hat from her head. “Are you going to put the dog up front?”
“I can’t tell you about the island if you’re in the back seat.” This excursion would take forever if he had to spend the whole time yelling over his shoulder. “I’ll take it slow.”
Liza looked doubtful but tugged the simple white sweater tight across her chest and silently climbed aboard. Her stark-white tennis shoes looked tiny next to his dirty old boots. Then again, all of her looked tiny next to his bulky frame. Hat secured in her lap, she nodded like a bull rider ready to leave the chute. “Okay, I’m in. Let’s get this over with.”
Kendall fought the urge to shove her high-and-mighty ass right back out. He was the one doing her a favor here. Not the other way around.
“I’ll keep it short and sweet.”
“I appreciate that.”
Jaw clenched, he circled around and headed up the driveway, making a right onto the main path back toward the ferry dock. He kept his speed down as they came through the trees into a clearing.
“You might see a white-tailed deer or a raccoon,” he said to start the tour, “but otter sightings are rare.”
She nodded, taking in the scenery.
“If you hear howling at night, that’s the co
yotes. They don’t bother people much, but folks need to keep a close eye on their dogs when they’re outside.”
That got her attention. “Coyotes?”
“Like I said, you’ll hear them, but you aren’t likely to see one.” Kendall pointed to their right. “This is the impoundment. You might call it a reservoir. Popular with the bird-watchers.” They passed a couple of canoes sitting on the bank of the water. “You’re welcome to try out a canoe—just wear a life jacket. Ray has some in the storage space under his stairs.”
“I’m not much of a canoe girl,” she said, checking out the small dock that was big enough for a bench and not much else. As they passed, she read the warning sign and instantly turned his way. “‘Dock closed when alligator present’? Is that a joke?”
“No, ma’am. Last count we had about thirty-five, but mostly babies.”
“You don’t get babies without the full-grown variety.”
“Pay attention to the warning signs, and you should be safe.” There hadn’t been an incident in at least three years. And they’d been able to save the tourist’s foot, so it had turned out fine. “I’ll show you where you can refill the water jug in your fridge up here at the Welcome Center.”
Minding his speed, Kendall made the left into the gravel parking area and backed the cart into an open space. After engaging the emergency brake, he stepped out. Amos leaped out behind him and trotted toward the building. Halfway to the stairs, Kendall noticed Liza wasn’t with him and turned to find her still sitting in the golf cart.
“You coming?”
She crossed her arms and glared in silence. Marching back to the pouting woman, Kendall heard Ray’s voice in his head saying, Be nice.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, his effort to speak in a friendly tone failing miserably.
“That’s the third time you’ve lumbered off, expecting me to follow you like that dog of yours.”
Kendall ignored the lumber part. “I just said I’d show you where the water is. Seems like the follow-me part is a given after that.”
“A lot of things seem to be a given with you,” she mumbled, finally getting to her feet. “From now on, if you want me to go somewhere, say so.”
She could go somewhere, all right. “Fine. Follow me.”
Her royal pain in the ass plopped the hat on her head and sauntered off toward the stairs where Amos waited. Gritting his teeth, Kendall followed behind. If he survived this tour without throwing himself off the pier, he’d consider the day a success.
Liza didn’t enjoy conflict, but she’d learned long ago the importance of defending herself. When the bullies had made her a target in third grade, Mom had assured her that handling them on her own was the best approach, despite Liza’s plea for parental intervention.
When her classmates weren’t picking on her nose, it was her curly hair. Or her practical shoes and sagging knee socks. Reaching her limit, Liza chose a cool day in mid-October to stand her ground, and to her surprise, the teasing stopped. Mom had been right. The bullies weren’t brave and confident. They were scared little kids, many with older siblings who tortured them mercilessly at home.
By picking on someone their own size, they could make up for constantly feeling powerless. Of course, with a nose like Liza’s, she’d been a target many more times over the years, but that day in third grade had provided a lesson she never forgot. More times than not, setting boundaries early had served her well.
Using the long-practiced tactic with Kendall James had been second nature, though she hadn’t expected such satisfactory results. The moment he joined her at the base of the Welcome Center stairs, he’d been almost cordial.
“Access to the water is under the building, over this way.” He reached a set of screen doors behind the stairs and held one open. “After you.”
Liza hesitated, surprised by the sudden change in both tone and demeanor, but manners took over, and she stepped through the opening into a dirt-floor area lit by scattered beams of sunlight. To her left was what looked like a storage room. She could see empty shelves, stacks of boxes, and a collection of broom handles through the wooden slats that ran horizontal from floor to ceiling.
Kendall flipped a switch, and a bare bulb illuminated the area. “The tap water on the island is safe but doesn’t taste great. The water that comes from this spigot is filtered, so most people prefer to use it, at least for drinking.” Flipping off the light, he said, “Upstairs is the closest thing to a store we have. Souvenirs and stuff for the tourists. You want to go up?”
“Sure,” she replied, shocked to be asked instead of ordered about. “I’d like to see it.”
“Okay, come on.”
Once again, he held the door for her to pass, and then followed her up the stairs. Amos waited at the top landing, tongue hanging out as usual.
“Does he always stay where he’s supposed to?” Liza had assumed that a dog off leash would run away.
“Pretty much.” A bell jingled as Kendall opened a solid glass door. “Watch your step.”
“Thank you.” She lifted the hem of her dress to make the small step up into the building and found herself staring into a squat, square tank of water. Perched atop a dark rock sat a small turtle, which dove headfirst into the murky depths when Liza took a step closer. “Sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Don’t mind Gus. He’s afraid of his own shell.” A curvy brunette smiled from behind a tiny brown desk. “Welcome to Haven Island, darling. We’re happy to have you. My name’s Doreen, and if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to holler.”
Liza nodded, charmed by the woman’s ready smile and pretty green eyes.
“Hey there, sugar,” Doreen purred as Kendall stepped in next. “Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays. Where you been hiding yourself?”
“I’ve been around. How are you doing, Dor?” Crossing the short distance to the desk, Kendall hiked his hip onto the wooden surface and smiled down at the woman, who was watching him like a hawk about to swoop in for her prey. “Tourists keeping you busy?”
“Not too bad, but I’ve always got time for you, handsome. You know that.” Leaning forward, Doreen showed off the ample breasts God had granted her. Liza glanced down to her own nonexistent cleavage and tried not to feel inferior. “I just got a new case of wine last week. Why don’t you come over and help me drink a bottle or two? We haven’t done that in far too long.”
Starting to feel like a third wheel, Liza wandered around the room, pretending to examine the various mugs, key chains, and T-shirts available for sale.
“I’ll see if I can find the time.”
She bet he would. Liza sized up the flirtatious woman through a postcard display stand. Early fifties was her best guess, but with the allure of a woman half her age. The coral-colored blouse gleamed against Doreen’s tanned skin, and purple-tipped toes encased in sparkling silver sandals peeked out from beneath the desk.
Distracted by the couple across the room, Liza nearly toppled the display.
“You all right over there, honey?” Doreen asked.
Liza waved the set of duck-themed cards she’d managed to catch before they hit the floor. “I’m fine,” she answered, voice much too chipper. “Just looking at the cards.”
“They’re ten dollars per pack, and all designed by one of our former resident artists, Preston Piccadilly. He was crazy as the day is long but a genius with a paintbrush.”
Placing the cards back in the rack, Liza smiled and moved on to the bin of drink koozies.
“I’ll be taking my lunch around eleven thirty,” Doreen said to Kendall. “We could break into a bottle and enjoy the breeze in the gazebo.”
The woman clearly wanted to enjoy more than the breeze.
“Afraid I can’t.” Kendall shifted off the desk. “I’m giving Liza a tour of the island.”
“Liza?”
“Yeah,” he said, pointing toward the koozies. “This is Liza Teller.”
“Oh.” Ri
sing to her feet, Doreen stepped around the desk, revealing long, slender legs sheathed tightly in white linen capri pants. “I thought y’all just happened to come in at the same time. So you’re together?”
“Only for the tour,” Liza answered before Kendall could speak. Unhappy with the unexpected wave of jealousy flooding her brain, annoyance crept into her next statement. “After that, he’s all yours.” Jaw tight, she addressed her tour guide. “I’ll wait outside while you finish in here.”
Without waiting for a reply, she exited the building, hoping the fresh salt air would restore her wayward sanity. Removing the hat, she used it as a fan as she dropped into an Adirondack chair to the left of the entrance. Amos plopped his big head on her knee.
“I don’t know what you see in him,” she said to the dog. “He’s moody, taciturn, and far too arrogant.”
Amos’s brows shifted up and down as if he understood every word. Liza took the gesture as a sign of agreement.
“You have my sympathies for having to live with him. I certainly couldn’t do it.” Remembering the scene in the kitchen, she added, “Granted, he is nice to look at, but personality matters much more than looks. I need to remember that from now on.”
The dog nudged her hand, as if to say, “Forget about him. What about me?”
“I guess you aren’t so bad.” Liza rubbed his soft head, and the dog’s expression softened. “Not that I want to live with you, either, but if I had to make a choice, you’d be it, buddy.”
With a sigh of contentment, Amos leaned his weight against her leg and closed his eyes.
Trying to follow the many moods of Liza Teller was going to drive Kendall to drink. He’d gone out of his way to play nice. He’d even opened the door for her. Twice. Yet thirty seconds later, she was pissy all over again.
“If I didn’t know better,” Doreen said, “I’d say that woman has taken a liking to you.”
A statement that proved all women were out of their minds. “If that’s a liking, I’d hate to see how she treats people she can’t stand.” Crossing to the exit, he spotted her sitting outside the door with Amos all but sleeping in her lap. At least she’d learned to tolerate one of them. Kendall glanced back at Doreen. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in taking over tour-guide duties?”
Ask me to Stay Page 4
